Title: were you lost, I would be

Fandom: Harry Potter/Merlin (BBC)/Arthurian legend

Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Dickinson.

Warnings: AU for Harry Potter; future! and reincarnation!fic for Merlin; has not been picked through for Americanisms

Pairings: Emrys' mom/Emrys' dad; Arthur's mom/Arthur's dad, totally preslash for Merlin/Arthur

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 1920

Point of view: third

Because it was easier for wizards to go to muggles than for muggles to go to wizards, Emrys and Arthur had planned to meet at Emrys' house. He had mentioned the visit as an afterthought to his parents three days after the start of the summer holiday and then proceeded to get more and more excited as the week passed.

"Hello," the tall blond man next to Arthur said. "I'm Victor Cornwallis."

"Wonderful to meet you," Emrys' dad said. "I'm William Donahue; this is my wife, Anna." The oven beeped so Dad said, "Excuse me," and hurried to the kitchen.

"Please, come in," Mum said, backing out of the way.

"Thank you for having us," Mr. Cornwallis said, ushering Arthur in. "Arthur has been bouncing off the walls in excitement since we picked him up from the station."

"Dad!" Arthur yelped, horrified, looking at Emrys and flushing.

"I know what you mean," Mum laughed.

Emrys flushed now, but Mr. Cornwallis merely smiled.

Dad walked back in. "Emrys," he said, "didn't you have something in mind? Mum and I can keep our guest entertained."

Emrys nodded fervently. "C'mon," he said, hurrying for the stairs.

He'd never had a friend over before and wasn't sure what to do, but he'd muddle through.

Arthur's attention was caught by the photos on the wall beside the stairs. "They don't move," he remarked. "Mum had said, but – " He reached out to poke the glass covering Emrys in Mum's arms, three months old. "How odd," Arthur murmured, glancing up at Emrys. "Sorry," he said, flushing again. "I've never been in a muggle home before."

"I wouldn't really call it muggle," Emrys said. "My magic used to act up, before I learned – well, to cage it, I suppose."

"Cage it?" Arthur asked, finally climbing up the rest of the staircase. Emrys showed him the way to his room and Arthur looked around with clearly restrained excitement.

Emrys' room was always neat; he'd learned, amongst other things, that if he gave his magic a task, his magic kept to it. Every day, his magic would put things where they belonged. If his father didn't find washing the dishes soothing, Emrys would have long since had his magic doing that chore, too. Emrys' room had soft blue walls accented in gold and green; his bedclothes were dark green. His magic permeated everything in his room.

Arthur sighed. "It feels safe," he murmured, so quietly Emrys was sure he wasn't meant to have heard. "So warm."

After a moment of silence, Arthur shook himself and turned to face Emrys. "Your father said something about plans?"

"Yes." Emrys nodded, edging around Arthur. "I made a list of the things you say are impossible. I thought – " He paused in the act of reaching into his bedside table's drawer, looking back at Arthur hesitantly. "Would you rather – that is – " He floundered, totally at a loss. How had he even managed to keep Arthur for so long? He was – was a freak in both worlds, unnatural. Impossible.

Little lord? Aithusan asked.

Emrys shut the connection, ignoring her distant roar. The entire thing had been a horrible idea – inviting Arthur to his house, pursuing a friendship, connecting with people.

"Emrys!" Arthur said sharply. Emrys jerked his head up, dropping the paper and falling back onto the bed. "Emrys, what is the matter?"

"I… do you want to explore the neighborhood?" Emrys asked, trying for deep, even breaths.

Arthur's sharp blue eyes studied him for a long moment, his face indecisive and worried before smoothing out. "Yes," he said.

.

That first visit, Arthur and his father stayed for half the day. The second visit, Arthur spent the night. The third, Emrys went to Arthur's house.

It wasn't until the fifth (at Arthur's), that Emrys worked up the nerve to bring out his list and nervously ask Arthur about his own magic. He couldn't look up at Arthur as he read off each thing on the list – wandless magic, mega-powerful, iimpossible/i.

Bloody hell, he'd set free every dragon in the world.

Arthur waited until the end to say, "I don't know, Emrys. No one can do what you do. Mum told me the most powerful wizard alive is Dumbledore." Arthur hesitated, so Emrys glanced up. "But not even Dumbledore could do those things." He nodded to the paper crumpled in Emrys' hands. "No one can, Emrys."

Emrys licked his lips. "Would I be in trouble if someone found out?" he whispered.

"I don't know," Arthur said. "But I – I don't know."

.

For the rest of the summer holiday, in between studying for the upcoming year, Arthur taught Emrys how to be normal. Emrys had never cared about blending in, but he wanted to stay. Didn't want any attention good or bad. Maybe it was his mother's love for sci-fi movies and how humans treated things that were different – whatever it was, now that he had something of his own, he wanted to keep it, and if that meant hiding, so be it.

But he did, towards the end of August, ask Arthur, "Do you want to see The Isle?"

Arthur blinked. "Of course!" he shouted, bouncing off his bed. "Are you serious?"

Emrys had been on his own a handful of times, just to see where the dragons had gone and to visit. The last time he'd noticed a few other species present – unicorns, griffins, krakens, and what Aithusan told him were crumple-horned snorkacks. When he asked how all of them had arrived, Aithusan said, "Magic, of course." She also explained that The Isle was a sanctuary for every magical being except man, and that since dragons had opened the way, all the rest would come in their own time.

"And it won't get too full?" he'd asked. "Or too small?"

"No, little lord," she had said, rolling over and snapping out her wings, stretching towards the sun. "The last dragonlord poured so much magic into this place… it will grow with our need. So long as there is magic in the world, we will be safe here."

Emrys took a deep breath and put his hand on Arthur's shoulder. He told his magic, Take us home.

Looking around, Arthur gasped in wonder. "Emrys," he murmured, "this is amazing."

Emrys smiled, waving to Aithusan as she flew over. "C'mon," he told Arthur. "There's so much I have to show you."

.

Arthur's mother was a no-nonsense woman who questioned Emrys very intently about his intentions about his friendship with Arthur. She also had questions about his status as a muggleborn but he seemed to pass muster and she didn't mind him hanging about after that. Arthur told Emrys she treated everyone like that, but it didn't bother Emrys overmuch.

A few times during the summer, though, Emrys felt her eyes on him, assessing. She was an Unspeakable, which meant she was smart – so she more than likely knew that Arthur's hypothetical queries weren't all that hypothetical.

Emrys didn't want to be found out, and he'd grown up on muggle fiction about the unusual leading to torture and experimentation.

But Emrys also knew it didn't matter what anyone tried. The magical community forced a tiny bolt of magic down a stick. They were puddles of water and Emrys was the deep, dark of the ocean.

Oh, my little lord, Aithusan whispered when he told her that. Do not worry, Lord Emrys. You will have us, no matter what the future brings. We of The Isle are yours – and we are more every day.

Thank you, he murmured, comforted and pleased.

.

On September 1, Emrys' parents brought him to King's Cross. He hugged them both goodbye and strengthened his protection on them.

(Something was stirring in the world, something malevolent. Emrys figured it was Voldemort, magical Britain's He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the boogeyman of the wizards.

Not Emrys' problem unless he went after what was Emrys'.)

"Emrys!" Arthur called, about to board the train.

"Arthur!" Emrys shouted back, hurrying to him, dragging his trunk behind him. He'd magically lightened it, of course.

"C'mon," Arthur said. "Let's find a compartment."

"You can handle your bags?" Mrs. Cornwallis asked as Emrys scurried up the ladder to stand beside Arthur. Mr. Cornwallis was on the platform with Emrys' parents, and he waved when Emrys caught his eye.

"Yes, Mum," Arthur assured her, taking the trunk from her.

"Well, if you're sure." She leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Be good, dear."

"I will," he promised, straining to hold his trunk. Emrys sent a touch of magic to help with the weight, but then Mrs. Cornwallis murmured a feather-light charm and sent it to both their trunks.

"You, too, Emrys," she said, turning away from the train. "Be good."

"I will," he promised as well, then followed Arthur into the train.

Last year, he sat alone and read magical history texts, and he was content. This year, he was on Arthur's heels, smiling as Arthur poked his head into each compartment and muttered, "No, no, no – ah, yes, Emrys', this'll do."

The compartment Arthur finally settled on had only a blonde girl a couple years older than them. "Emrys," Arthur said, "this is Luna Lovegood. Her father writes the most fascinating books and runs The Quibbler. Luna, this is my best friend, Emrys Donahue."

"Lovegood?" Emrys asked while she peered at him over her upside down magazine (The Quibbler, it said). "Xenophilius Lovegood is your dad?"

Luna nodded.

Emrys grinned at her. "His books were the most entertaining of my background reading before Hogwarts."

"That's good to hear," Luna said. "Many people don't appreciate his work."

An older boy poked his head into the compartment and immediately left. Emrys asked Luna, "What do you know about crumple-horned snorkacks?"

She lit up, dropping the magazine. Arthur grabbed it and started reading while Luna and Emrys discussed magical creatures all the way to Hogwarts.

Maybe one day, Emrys mused, he could take Luna to The Isle.

.

Emrys didn't want to sit with his house for the Welcoming Feast but figured he should. He focused on his food and didn't look up until the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor began droning on. As he listened, he started frowning because her speech sounded ominous – especially the 'pruning practices that ought to be prohibited' part. One of the newly appointed prefects, holding court a few seats down from Emrys, said quietly, "Interesting."

"I agree, Draco," a dark-skinned boy replied.

Emrys looked at the new professor, a squat little woman all in pink. Whatever her intentions were, he'd give her the same chance he gave everyone: don't hurt what is Emrys' and Emrys will let you be.

The headmaster dismissed the students to their dorms; Arthur waved to Emrys as the Hufflepuffs headed in the opposite direction from the Slytherins.

"For the first years," Professor Snape drawled after everyone was in the common room, "welcome to Hogwarts. And to returning students, welcome back."

Emrys listened to everything Professor Snape said and it boiled down to: keep your heads down, pay attention, and think before acting. Very interesting, indeed.

Professor Snape ended his start-of-term instructions by handing out schedules and sending them all to bed. Emrys showered, brushed his teeth, and settled into his bed with a book of magical history that Aithusan said was found in a cave in The Isle; it was written in Draconian, a language that predated the wizarding world, and Emrys was enthralled.

Hogwarts was humming in satisfaction as he fell asleep.