The Last Dragonlord

Chapter Three: Horses

It took two wrong turns and the directions of several guards before Harry escaped the twisting corridors of the castle and got down to the stables. The whole complex was a group of wooden buildings between the main part of the castle and the town. Harry's nose wrinkled at the strong smell of horse dung coming from it.

"Hello?" he called out tentatively as he stepped into one of the larger barns. It was full to the brim of horses that were tied up to various poles. Hay was strewn all over the ground and horse dung in the middle of all that.

"Whaddya wan' boy?" a grisly voice asked out of nowhere.

Harry jumped and turned around to see an older man with a bushy brown beard and rheumy brown eyes. The cruel snarl on the man's face made his stomach twist. "Er, I'm looking for a job," he said. "I was told you were looking for someone."

"I migh'," the man said, spitting and looking him over. "Are yeh good wi' horses boy? Because yeh look like a noble tha's never work'd in 'is life, t' me."

Harry burned with embarrassment. "I've had jobs but I've never really worked with horses before," he admitted. At the annoyance and irritation on the man's face, Harry hastily added, "but I'm a quick learner and I'll take any work you have!" The teenager's heart sank when the man's expression didn't change. "Please," Harry said. "I really need this job!"

The man stroked his beard before grudgingly saying, "Well alright the', bu' ye on'y be gettin' half th' pay, understand? I'm no' trainin' yeh fer free. An' if I don't like wha' I see, yeh're ou' on yer arse, boy. Yeh hear? I ain't takin' on no nancy boy..."

"Yes sir," Harry said fervently. "Thank you."

The man scowled. "Well, ye can start with muckin' out the stables. Pitchfork is o'er there and wagon is 'round back. All th' dung goes in the mound on the west side of th' last barn. Ask one o' me boys if ye get confused," he said, shooting Harry a derisive look at the last bit that said he was really an idiot if he couldn't find the shit pile.

Harry ignored the look and politely nodded. Rolling up his sleeves, the teenager darted around the building and found a small wheelbarrow with an unsteady wheel propped up against the barn. He knelt down and tried to tighten the screws but they hardly moved. The wheel was roughly hewn and not totally round, which made pushing the wheelbarrow a challenge. With a sigh, Harry got to work.

Even though he'd never cleaned out a barn before, it wasn't that difficult if he used common sense. He had to use the pitchfork to scoop out the piles of horse poop and dump them in the wagon. If he did it right and shook the pitchfork, Harry avoided scooping up too much hay, which kept the barrow from filling up too quickly.

The one problem was working around the horses. They were obviously used to being around humans, as they weren't skittish; in fact, they were positively bossy! Harry kept trying to get around them but they would deliberately move to stand on top of the dung and refused to move when he tried to prod them gingerly on their sides. Harry eventually got so fed up that he told one particularly stubborn horse where he could shove his own shit if he wasn't going to let Harry do his job. The horse didn't even flick an ear at him.

Of course, after he'd filled the wheelbarrow, the wizard found that too much weight made the wheelbarrow tilt to its side, meaning that all the dung he'd collected fell onto the floor. Needless to say, it was a very long afternoon of transporting excrement.

Feeling grimy and stinky, Harry hung up his pitchfork at last and stretched his aching shoulders and back. He turned to see the old man that hired him looking around with a contemplative sneer on his face.

"D'yeh have a place t' sleep?" he asked in his gruff tone. Harry shook his head. "The' yeh ca' stay i' th' firs' barn wi' some o' th' other boys. Yeh'll ge' less pay, bu' it's cheaper tha' stayin' i' th' inn."

"Thanks," Harry said with a nod. That was one less thing to worry about.

"An' here," the man said, putting some coins into his grubby hand. "Ye ge' five coppers fer one day's work. Ye ge' yer pay from me every evenin'. The name's Simon. Now ge' goin'."

Harry nodded and shot one last thanks to the man before hurrying out the door. He was starving and wanted to get to the market before it closed. He also wanted to find a place to wash up, since his skin itched from a thick layer of dirt and sweat. Harry felt like he hadn't showered in a week. Quickly smelling his clothes, he nearly gagged and decided that a week was probably about right.

The market was in full swing, with servants and artisans flooding in from the castle and upper town. Harry eyed the food and ended up selecting some bread, cheese and an apple from a seller. The whole meal cost him two coppers, so Harry tucked the rest away for his breakfast. Nibbling on the dry bread and strong cheese, the teenager thought wistfully of Hogwarts feasts. I'll never take house elves for granted again, he thought ruefully as he polished off his apple.

He entered the barn he was to sleep in and found some other boys hanging about. Harry went up to one, a sandy-haired teenager that looked to be about seventeen.

"Excuse me," he said. "Sorry, I'm new and was wondering if you could help me. I'm Harry."

"Duncan," the other boy said with a nod. He was busy saddling a handsome horse and had his hands full with the saddle. "Wha' d'you need?"

"Do you know a place where I can wash? It's just, I had to muck out the stables and—" Harry said, his face turning red.

"What're ye, a noble?" Duncan laughed. "Yeh'll soon ge' used t' it. Th' smell, I mean. Bu' there's a stream jus' ou'side o' th' city tha' mos' o' us use. Yeh coul' go t' th' bathhouses i' th' upper town, bu' they cost almost five coppers fo' a good soak," he said. "Jus' follow th' main road ou' o' th' lower town and then follow th' dirt path o' th' righ' fo' about five minutes. Yeh can't miss it."

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully.

"No proble'," Duncan said. "An' if yeh're back a' dusk, come 'n join us at th' fire near stable two!"

Harry agreed and hurried off to get washed. It wasn't a shower or anything, but getting some of the stink off had to be better than nothing.

Despite the enormous lack of modern conveniences, Harry found himself adapting quickly to life in Camelot. He certainly did get used to the smell of horses over time, although the smell of the privy had yet to endear itself to him. He regularly washed at the stream, despite the distinct lack of hygiene on the part of the other boys. Most of the commoners he met washed once every four weeks at minimum and washed their clothes only slightly more regularly.

Food was expensive and took up most of his wages, but Harry was eventually able to scrounge up enough to buy a worn shirt and pair of trousers to replace his robes, which were not holding up well to all the manual labour.

As he spent more time in Camelot, he began to get to know familiar faces and found that the townsfolk were friendlier when they didn't see him as a stranger. The older stable hands willingly took him in hand to teach him 'the ways of the hostler'. Harry thought it all a tad pretentious until he realised how much he had to learn about the animals.

Harry spent most of his first four weeks cleaning up horse shit, sweeping the floor and polishing the riding equipment. Then Simon moved him up to feeding the horses and cleaning the water troughs, a nasty, backbreaking job made worse by the lack of hosepipes and proper drainage systems.

It wasn't until they had determined that he wasn't a complete moron, nearly three months after he had arrived in the past, that they let him actually work with the horses. They were actually quite nice animals once you got to know them and they got to know you. The beasts were stubborn and often acted contrary to what he wanted them to do, but Harry soon learned that they were just a bunch of cowards that hid behind bravado. The stable hands showed him that he just had to show the horses who was the boss and they would fall in line quickly enough.

So it was with growing sureness that Harry started grooming and caring for the large animals. As he worked, he was frequently reminded of Hagrid and his big friend's fondness for animals. Harry could see how he felt if working with animals everyday was as enjoyable as this.

The teenager just wished that he could share his new life with Hagrid, Hermione and Ron. Harry was incredibly lonely and wished for nothing more than to go back to Hogwarts. His wand was still locked up in the citadel and he had no way of getting it out, not for lack of trying.

He'd tried to sneak in almost three times in the last few months, but never got farther than the second round of guards. It was relatively easy to blend in with all the other staff and commoners as he snuck into the citadel, but it was nearly impossible to get past the guards without magic. If only he had his Invisibility Cloak, he would have gotten it in no time.

On the other hand, Harry wasn't even sure how he'd get home, even if he had his wand. On rare evenings off, he'd tried to look in the library for something with a clue as to how he could get home, but none of the books were helpful at all. The only mentions they made to magic were regarding the 'Great Purge' King Uther started over twenty years ago. The books said that magic had attacked the kingdom, committing great acts of evil, and as a result was banned. Uther Pendragon then rooted out all magic users and executed them for their crimes.

It sounded like mass genocide to the young wizard and it made him very wary of mentioning his magical powers to anyone else. Harry was determined to keep his head down and ride out this massively long and very realistic dream, at least until he found a way home.

The only solution he came to was that he was going to have to find a Great Dragon. While the Pendragons had apparently wiped out all of the dragons, if Yraaahhgill was right, then maybe not all had disappeared. It would then stand to reason that at least one had to be around right now and maybe one of them would know how to get him home.

The only problem was finding one when he couldn't exactly ask random folk if they'd seen a dragon flying around and if they could please point where it was headed. Yeah, that would get him locked up faster than Harry could say 'sorcerer'.

Harry wanted to ask Merlin, the one magic-user he knew about, but was wary of spooking him and had no idea how to find him. He obviously knew the court physician and Prince Arthur, but asking either of those men could gain him more attention than he was comfortable with. Despite its looks, Camelot was a pretty large city and it wasn't easy finding one man when you spent most of your days cleaning up after horses.

Or, at least it wasn't until the day that Simon had him muck out the King's stable.

"Me?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. It was rare that anyone besides the royal family's personal servants or Simon entered that barn, as the king's prized stallions were worth a small fortune each and were way too valuable for an average hostler to handle.

"Is there an'one else 'ere?" Simon barked with a scowl. "Git on with yeh bef're I take it outta yer hide!"

Harry grabbed his pitchfork and hurried to the stable. The latch was easily undone and stepping inside, he found the flanks of prize horseflesh milling about. He shut the door and walked in, surveying the building. The ground needed a good mucking and sweeping, after which the horses would have to be fed and groomed. Certainly a full afternoon if he ever saw one.

With a sigh, he started to work. The horses were as stubborn as ever, but after working with the beasts every day for several months, Harry moved confidently in the space. Some prodding, shoving and a couple curses later, the floor was clean and swept. Feeding wasn't too difficult, as the horses were eager to munch on their dry grass, and the grooming went much quicker when they were occupied with eating.

Just as Harry was brushing down the last horse, the door squeaked and a dark-haired man entered.

"Hello?" the man said suspiciously, eyeing Harry carefully. "What're you doing in here?"

He swiped the brush down the horse's flank. "Simon told me to clean up in here." Harry absently ran his fingers through the brush's bristles to free any stray clumps of hair. He absently glanced at the figure and then froze, recognizing him. "It's you," Harry said. It was Merlin. He almost blurted out the curious question on his lips, but at the man's bewildered look, he dropped it. "Sorry. Erm, you can ask Simon if you want."

Merlin grinned. "It's alright, I believe you," he said. "It's just not that often that someone else does my job for me."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Your job?" he echoed blankly. Then it clicked. "You're the personal servant of Prince Arthur!"

"Yeah," Merlin said with a confused grin, "and I have been for the last few years, mate." At the other boy's dumbfounded expression, he added, "Surely someone's mentioned me before? I'm always tending to Arthur's horses."

"Well, yeah, but I didn't think..." Harry's voice trailed off as he realised that he hadn't made the connection. After all, how could Merlin spend so much time with the future king if no one knew about his magic?

Merlin's face broke out into a grin and he laughed. "It's okay," he said. "Don't worry about it."

Harry grinned back weakly, putting his favourite currycomb aside. "I'm Harry," he said, holding out his hand. "Harry Potter."

"Merlin," the older man returned, shaking the hand. "Haven't we met before? You look familiar—" His eyes widened. "You're the boy we found in the Forest of Asitir!"

"Yeah," Harry winced in embarrassment, remembering their last meeting. "That's me."

"I was wondering where you disappeared off to," Merlin said, putting his hands in his pockets. "Gwen told me that you stayed with her that night and then went off looking for a job in the kitchens. I checked there but couldn't find you. Obviously."

Harry was disarmed by the other man's easy grin and relaxed himself. "I didn't know anyone was looking," he said with a shrug. "The job in the kitchen was already gone when I got there. Someone there told me that Simon was looking for help, so I came down and he hired me. Been here ever since."

"And you didn't try to go home?" Merlin crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "I imagine your family's quite worried about you."

"I doubt it," Harry said automatically, thinking of the Dursleys. "My relatives aren't exactly fond of me," he elaborated at Merlin's look. "And anyway, I'm not sure how to get home at all."

Merlin raised an eyebrow, his deeply set eyes growing darker with concern. "What do you mean? Is it because of the distance?"

Harry bit his lip. "In a way," he hedged, glancing round nervously. He took a deep breath. "I think magic brought me here," he blurted out at last.

The other wizard's dumbstruck look was actually quite hilarious. "What?!"

"I'm a wizard," Harry said recklessly. "I go to a school called Hogwarts where I study magic. I was on the grounds by the lake and the next thing I knew I was in the forest where you found me. Magic must have sent me here, somehow, but now I have no way of getting home. I don't even have my wand, even if I knew a spell that could send me back, and there aren't any books that could help me—I've already checked the library—and I'm really hoping that you'll help me because it really is going to take the greatest wizard in the world to get me home."

Merlin blinked. All the colour had drained out of his face and he swallowed roughly a few times. "A school of magic?" he repeated faintly. "Wizards?" A wary look crossed his face. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're Merlin," the teen stressed. "You're the only one who can help me." He eyed the closed door. "I know you have magic too," he whispered, dropping his voice.

Merlin's face went white. "How?!" he hissed suspiciously.

Harry winced. "Did I mention I'm from over a thousand years in the future?" he added weakly. His eyes widened when a thump resounded in the barn.

Merlin—the greatest magical being and the founder of the Wizarding world—had fainted.

A/N: Hi all! Thank you everyone for your reviews on this story! I know many of you probably despaired at ever seeing an update ever again, but luckily for you, I had some extra time this weekend to spend on finishing up this chapter.

If you have the chance, please go back to Chapters One and Two and read them over again. I made some small revisions and a couple bigger ones (mainly in Chapter Two). When I first started writing this fic, I was just writing whatever, so I didn't bother to really think about how my placement of this crossover in the Merlin universe would impact the plans I had for the story. Hence, the change to make Uther alive again and Arthur the prince. Harry arrives during the gap between season three and season four, when Uther is alive but unable to manage the kingdom, so Arthur is effectively king.

I can't promise I will update soon or even within the next couple of years, though I can say that my muse for this fic isn't gone for good. I have other muses that demand my time, plus the day jobs and other things that I have to do. I can say that if the muse strikes again and I do add to this, I will gladly post another chapter as soon as I can.

Please let me know what you think of this chapter! I really do enjoy hearing from all readers. Thanks and have a great January!