AN: I know, I know. Everyone was about to light torches and break out the pitchforks. No need. I'm back.

Merlin stumbled a bit as his foot sank into a hole. He was able to keep himself from falling but was upset that he'd been slowed down. Running for his life wasn't what he planned on doing this early Saturday morning.

Perhaps 'running for his life' was an exaggeration, but that was certainly how he felt. When he'd asked his father to teach him how to fight, his expectation resembled Dueling Club. Balinor insisted that fighting the enemy was much more than just wand waving.

"It's just as much physical as it is magical," Balinor had said. It was in that moment that Merlin realized he'd made a mistake in asking his father for help. For the past few weeks, they worked on stamina and coordination. As Merlin had a habit of being clumsy, this proved to be quite the task. Fortunately, there had been improvement and Merlin had managed not to trip and fall…as often.

When Balinor woke Merlin up early in the morning, he was not prepared to run through the unfamiliar forests of Romania's Dragon Sanctuary. There were plenty of holes to fall into and logs to trip over. Only one of the three wizards that had been sent after him had caught up so far. Merlin didn't know the boy's name, but still felt guilty for hitting him with a Leg-Locking Curse. The boy went down with an 'umph' and hadn't been seen since.

That was a while ago and Merlin was getting tired. He slowed his run to a brisk walk, taking in his surroundings. A twig snapped behind him, and Merlin immediately drew his wand. The wizard who had drawn his attention looked down at the twig in irritation but grinned at Merlin.

"Should have kept running," he said, pulling back the hood of his jacket to reveal flaming red hair. "I don't think we would have been able to keep up with you for much longer."

"Speak for yourself, Charlie," the other wizard said. "I was just catching my stride."

Merlin watched as the two circled him, trading barbs as they moved.

"Seriously Gwaine? Stride?" Charlie laughed. "He had you beat the moment he took off."

Merlin's eyes kept shifting to Gwaine.

"It's all about pacing yourself," Gwaine replied as he grinned at Merlin. "Tired little Ambrose?"

Merlin didn't answer and tightly gripped his wand in his hand. He's going to strike first, he thought to himself. Gwaine's body language screamed his attack and Merlin was ready.

"Stupify!"

"Protego!" Merlin spun and pointed his wand at Charlie and shouted, "Evante statum!" Charlie flew backwards several feet.

Gwaine threw a yellow curse in Merlin's direction, but it was dodged.

"Expelliarmus!" Merlin shouted.

Gwaine's wand flew from his hand and for a moment, Merlin thought he'd bested the older wizard. He was not expecting Gwaine to charge at him. Merlin dove out of the way and watched Gwaine reclaim his wand.

"Nice one little Ambrose!" Gwaine seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Fumos," Merlin muttered, creating a smokescreen. It didn't last long, as Charlie had created a whirlwind. Merlin scrambled to his feet but was immediately knocked back down, the spell coming from Gwaine's direction.

"Did you see him disarm me?" Gwaine asked.

Charlie nodded. "He's pretty quick for a fourth year."

"Of course he is." A man in black hooded robes stepped into the clearing. Everyone lowered their wands as he approached Merlin. He pulled the hood off his head to reveal a jagged yellow smile. "He's an Ambrose."

The walk back to the House of Ambrosius didn't take very long. They ran into Merlin's third attacker, Brutus, who couldn't find his wand. Charlie offered to stay behind to help him find it as Merlin, Gwaine and the man in black robes continued on their way through the forest.

They approached the house to find Balinor and Hunith sitting on the porch. A grin crossed Balinor's face as he stood to his feet to greet them.

"Your son doesn't recognize me," the man said in greeting. "Understandably, I was much younger back then, and so was he."

"And far more handsome," Balinor added with a laugh. "The ministry hasn't been kind to you, old man." He pulled the man into a friendly hug, which the man returned.

"Stress," he admitted, running his hand through his graying hair. "Who knew looking after dragons would be easier than hunting dark wizards."

"I did," Hunith said, looking quite pleased with herself as she descended the stairs. "I'm not going to say 'I told you so' but…well…"

The man laughed and pulled Hunith into a hug. "Hunith, you're still as beautiful as the last time I saw you. Are you still happy with this one?" he asked, gesturing to Balinor. "If not, you and I could always-"

Hunith promptly slapped his arm. "Don't flirt with me in front of my son."

"Yes, your son." The man looked at Merlin thoroughly. "I can't remember the last time I saw you. How old are you now? Thirteen? Fourteen?"

"Fourteen, sir," Merlin answered politely.

"Goddess," he whispered. "Has it been that long?"

Balinor clapped a hand on the man's shoulder. "Son, this is Xander Aredian. He's one of my oldest friends and he used to be a respectable Dragon Keeper until the ministry got their hands on him."

"There was a need for them during the last war," Aredian defended.

"I'm sure there was," Balinor said sarcastically. "So what's brought you this way? Checking up on me for the Ministry?"

Aredian cleared his throat and took a professional tone. "As you well know, Balinor, under aged magic is-"

"Stupid."

"Against the law," Aredian finished. "Rufus knows we're friendly, so yes, I'm checking up on you for the Ministry." He reached inside his robes and produced an envelope. "I was also asked to bring you this. Courtesy of Bagman."

"Ah," Balinor took the envelope. "That is the most elusive man I have ever met. Why couldn't he bring this to me himself?"

"To put it quite bluntly, old friend, most witches and wizards are afraid of you," Aredian answered easily. "Imagine: a crazed man living in the forests of Romania with an army of dragons at his command. Tell me that doesn't sound intimidating."

Balinor frowned. "I'm not crazy."

"That's debatable," Hunith quipped. Merlin bit back a smile.

Balinor scowled at Hunith and turned to Gwaine. "How'd he do?"

"Took down Brutus with no problem," Gwaine reported. "Knocked Charlie off his feet and took my wand. We were, uh…interrupted…before anything else happened."

"Yes, it was all very impressive," Aredian said. "But what's this all about?"

"Voldemort's return," Balinor answered. "My son will be prepared for the worst."

"You expect him to fight?"

Balinor looked at Merlin, who stood a bit straighter. "That's his decision to make, but he will be prepared either way. Let's see a proper duel, son. You and Gwaine."

Aredian sighed as the two wizards took their dueling stances. "There's no way to dissuade you from doing this, is there?"

Balinor smiled. "Nope."

"I see." Aredian sat on the porch steps next to Hunith. "As a ministry official, I should at least stay and supervise."

"Is that a fancy way of inviting yourself to dinner?" Hunith asked.

Aredian smiled as Balinor began to count the boys down. "On the count of three, boys. One…"

"Watch your footing," Gwaine advised.

Merlin frowned. "What?"

"Two…"

"Watch your footing, and don't hold back." Gwaine smiled mischievously. "Because I won't."

"…three."

Merlin's hair was still wet from washing up as he plopped down in his seat at the kitchen table. "Everything hurts," he announced.

Both Balinor and Aredian laughed at him.

"Well, sweetheart," Hunith said sweetly, patting his back, "duck next time."

"Sound advice," Aredian chuckled.

Merlin glared at him, and rested his head on the table.

"I'm still trying to find out how they talked you into this old friend," Aredian said to Balinor. "You've never cooperated with the ministry before."

Merlin frowned in confusion. Clearly he missed the main part of their conversation. He looked to his mother for an explanation, but she shook her head at him.

"Bagman didn't tell you what you were giving me?" Balinor asked.

Aredian shook his head, causing Balinor to smirk. He took the envelope from his pocket and handed it to Merlin. "Open it."

Frowning slightly, Merlin took the envelope and opened it slowly. The gold and curly lettering glittered on the paper as Merlin read, "Admit one…422nd Quidditch World Cup…" Merlin's mouth fell open as he tried to process what he'd just read. "But…but you said I couldn't go."

Balinor shook his head. "I said you couldn't stay the summer with your friend, not that you couldn't go to the match."

Merlin read the ticket over and over again, his grin growing wider as he did.

"There should be three tickets in there," Balinor added. "And mum said she doesn't want to go."

Merlin thought about it for a moment. Morgana and Mordred were already going and Anthony was out of the country until school started again. "Can I invite Neville?"

Balinor nodded. "You'd better write him now. The match is in a few days."

Without any more prompting, Merlin got up from the table and went to his room. Quickly, he scribbled an invitation to Neville and commissioned his father's owl to deliver it. "Stick around until he replies," Merlin instructed. The owl hooted and took flight out the open window as Merlin watched on, excited about the rest of his summer.