A huge thank you to J.H.W., koala789, sweetprincessmano, and MagicInTheStars for your consistent reviews and dedication in reading this fic. You guys really kept me going when there were times I wanted to give up on this story. Thank you to everyone else who has favorited, left the occasional review, and followed this work. You also added to my determination to see this story reach its end. I couldn't have done it without you all. :)

*SPOILER WARNING: MENTIONS OF HARRY POTTER AND THE CURSED CHILD APPEAR IN THIS CHAPTER*

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter

Chapter 17

One of Hogwarts' humble owls had successfully captured its victim within its talons when the forest surrounding it was disturbed by an explosion of raw magical power. The owl screeched. Releasing the mouse and taking to the air, it flapped its wings as hard as it could towards the castle, dinner entirely forgotten.

Harry immediately dropped Mordred onto the forest floor and looked around, his eyes adjusting to the shadowy forest illuminated by a pitiful amount of sunlight above their heads. He raised his hand.

"Lumos."

Nothing happened. Trying to ignore the immense disappointment shriveling his wayward heart, he stared forlornly at Ron and Hermione. The two sent him a pitiful smile.

"I can't feel it anymore either, if that's what you're wondering," Hermione lamented.

"It's sad," Ron murmured. "Part of me wants to cry."

"I know. I wonder if Merlin can still feel it," Harry sighed as he removed his wand from his right boot.

Hermione reached down and lifted her skirt a bit to pull hers out of a secret pocket she'd sewn into the inner lining. For the first time she looked at the thin piece of wood with a disappointed frown.

"I never thought I'd be so sad to hold my own wand," she whispered.

Ron wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "At least we can still use magic, right?"

"Yes but your wand was destroyed, Ron," Hermione pointed out.

The redhead shrugged. "I'll get a new one; won't be the first time. Say, wait 'til Ollivander hears how I broke this one!"

The three shared a pleasant laugh before deciding to head back up to the castle; with how many times they'd tromped around the Forbidden Forest, they knew exactly where they were. Checking to make sure Mordred was still unconscious, Harry threw him over his shoulder again before following Ron and Hermione down the small animal trail leading to Hogwarts. They emerged from the forest about twenty minutes later, the familiar spires and towers of Hogwarts castle clearly visible in the sunlight of a clear autumn morning. The trio took a moment to take everything in.

"I know we only saw the place for a week but I can see Camelot behind all the additions," Harry commented.

"Yeah," Ron muttered. "It's way different but the heart of the place is still the same."

"I think we're starting to get an idea of how Merlin feels," Hermione sighed as they strolled up the lawn towards the great oak doors. "He's always telling us that the castle and surrounding land are not as grand as they used to be."

"Well, the lack of magic in the air is definitely something to mourn over," Harry said, slightly grunting under Mordred's weight.

"Do you need help carrying him, mate?"

"Thanks, Ron, but I think I've got it. We're almost there anyway."

Reaching the steps, Ron and Hermione rushed ahead to push open the doors, allowing Harry and his current burden to pass. The sounds of noise and laughter from the Great Hall halted Harry's progress; he really didn't want to cause another scene in front of the students. There was also a part of him that was afraid the future was still messed up. Lowering Mordred's body down and propping it against the wall, he turned to his two best friends.

"What if the future isn't fixed?" he asked. "What if we're not even in the right time again?"

"Oriana, slow down!" a little boy shouted. "You're going to hurt yourself!"

"Look out!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had enough time to duck before a broomstick zoomed right past where their heads had previously been. A giggling two year old turned the small broom back to face her friend who was still running towards the airborne child with a concerned look on his dark face. Shoving his blonde curls aside, Alexander began to admonish Oriana for her carelessness.

"You can't just go stealing from the school broom closet and bewitching broomsticks! Those aren't like the ones they ride in real Quidditch games!"

"Mommy says my magic is almost as strong as Daddy's," Oriana countered, "and that means I can easily make anything fly that I want – even you!"

"There won't be any need for that," a new voice said and both Oriana and Alexander stiffened immediately as Merlin came striding towards them with a furrowed brow. "Kids, what did I tell you? Now isn't the best time to be wandering off – Harry? Ron? Hermione? What are you three doing here?" he then noticed the slumped form of Mordred behind them and his eyes widened to the size of dragon eggs. "Holy -!" he cried. "Mordred!"

"We're back," Harry grinned, turning to face Ron and Hermione.

"We're back!" they cried, hugging each other tightly.

"What are you talking about? And why are you wearing those clothes?" Merlin asked. "What is going on here?"

"It's a long story," Harry laughed, turning back to him. "Perhaps you should call a meeting."

Merlin studied them for a moment. "Alright; but first I'm hauling this off to Azkaban." With a disgusted frown, he reached down to pick Mordred up and then noticed the rune cuffs. "What…?"

"They're from the Triple Goddess," Hermione explained. "She made them specially."

Merlin stared. "You three have a lot of explaining to do – but don't start until I get back. Oriana, get off that broomstick before you break your neck – and Alexander, don't let her do anything reckless while I'm gone."

The warlock then grasped Mordred by the wrist and Channeled away.

Oriana dismounted the broomstick at once, her lip sticking out in a pout. "Daddy's no fun."

"Why are you wearing those clothes, Uncle Harry?" asked Alexander.

Harry looked down at his tunic and trousers and shrugged. "It used to be the style."

"MERLIN! Where has that idiot gotten off to?" King Arthur had come charging out of the Great Hall. "Can't even trust him to find two children. MERLIN! Oh – Harry? What on earth are you, Ron, and Hermione wearing?"

"Hello, Arthur," Harry grinned as Hermione and Ron beamed at the sight of the king. "It's really good to see you."

"Alive and well," Hermione added as a tear ran down her cheek.

Merlin suddenly reappeared in the Entrance Hall, a light breeze ruffling everyone's clothes before he rounded on the trio with a penetrating stare.

"Explain," he commanded.

Harry shook his head. "Not until everyone's together."

"Explain what?" Arthur asked, highly confused.

"How they ended up here with Mordred unconscious in chains given to them by the Triple Goddess," Merlin answered.

Arthur stared. "Wait – what?"

Merlin lifted his hand and sent several miniature versions of his Patronus – which was usually a gigantic dragon – throughout the castle. "We'll get the full story in a minute, Arthur. Come on; I told everyone to meet us in the staffroom."

They didn't have to wait long before the room filled with the Camelotians and the few members of the Order of the Phoenix who worked at the school that weren't currently teaching.

"Are you finally going to tell us what the urgent message is, Merlin?" asked Morgana a little testily now that everyone had arrived; he'd refused to say anything until the last person, Professor Sprout, entered the room.

The warlock turned to Harry; 'go ahead' his eyes seemed to say. Harry nodded to him before beginning the tale, Ron and Hermione each sharing portions from the strange timeline they'd woken up to until the last moments they spent with the other Arthur and Merlin.

A shocked silence filled the room for what felt like an eternity.

"They wanted us to take this," Hermione muttered, setting the other Merlin's blue neckerchief on the table in front of the warlock, "to remember them and their sacrifice. I think you should have it, Merlin."

Merlin picked it up with a bittersweet smile. "At least now I know why I collect these," he muttered.

"I've always said you were a hoarder, Merlin," Arthur teased as the warlock began to pull a long strand of neckerchiefs from his sleeve - clearly stuffed there magically - until he got to the end.

Harry stared. "I've seen countless muggles use that magic trick."

Merlin snorted as he tied his newest prize to the end of the long strand of multicolored neckwear. "Please, where do you think they got the idea from?"

"You invented that?" Hermione wondered, surprised.

Merlin's eyes flashed with amusement. "It wasn't originally intended as a magic trick. This was just an idea I had to keep them from getting lost."

"By stuffing them up your shirt sleeve?" Ron asked, bewildered.

Merlin frown as several people snickered. "Is it a crime to keep one's prized possessions on their immediate person with a secret expendable charm up their sleeve?"

"Expendable charms are technically illegal."

"Oh, shut up, Arthur."

"Excuse me, Merlin, but I'm the one who gives the orders around here."

Alexander broke the banter by pulling on his father's tunic.

"Daddy, if your clothes are ancient, why do you still wear them sometimes? Doesn't that make you really old?"

There was a round of chuckles as Arthur, suddenly finding himself a little flustered, answered his son.

"I'm older than you may think, son. And, as for the clothes, well, I like them," he hedged.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who likes to hoard things," Merlin grinned.

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur groused though his eyes were twinkling.

"Merlin, you told us that Old magic always trumps New," Hermione interrupted before he could further insult the king.

"I always thought that to be the case," the warlock admitted.

"But Morgana told us that we were strong enough to be considered High Priests and Hermione a High Priestess," Ron argued. "How is that possible?"

Merlin frowned. "Perhaps… Everything evolves, correct? Perhaps the magic used today is actually an evolved form of the Old Religion but it's not as powerful as the ancient spells because of the state that the Earth is in. You said the second you returned here that you couldn't feel the presence of magic?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a heavy frown. "It was really sad. Can you feel it?"

Merlin sent him a sad smile. "I can always feel it, Harry, but I'm all that's left of the Old Religion – besides Aithusa and Altiore."

"Have you ever tried using New magic without a wand?" asked Hermione.

Merlin shook his head. "It never crossed my mind to try. I always thought the New could only be controlled with a wand and since I can't use those, I just stuck with the Old ways."

"Well, given what Harry, Ron, and Hermione have just shared, why don't you give it a go?" suggested Arthur, curiosity stirring in his eyes.

The ancient warlock shrugged before holding up his hand.

"Alright."

"Just try to do something simple," Harry warned. "The Reductor Curse ended up destroying a huge portion of Camelot's outer wall and I don't think any of us want you to blow a hole in the castle."

"Good point," Merlin muttered. "Right, how about we try… Lumos."

Harry had stared straight into the sun many times during multiple Quidditch practices, each encounter leaving him temporarily blinded and teary-eyed. The effect he was experiencing now was exactly the same as the swirling ball of energy in Merlin's hand acted like a miniature sun without the heat, everyone crying out and shielding their eyes as the room was bathed in an explosion of unimaginable light.

"Merlin! Turn it off! Turn it off!" Arthur shouted frantically somewhere to Harry's left.

The warlock hastily obeyed. "Nox!" he cried.

The light immediately disappeared, leaving Harry blind.

"Is anyone else unable to see anything?" asked Lancelot, slightly panicked.

There was a round of frightened cries as everyone said yes. Merlin apologized several times before Arthur told him to shut up and then suggested they all stand still for a moment to see if their vision would naturally return. Harry blinked rapidly several times before he was able to make out shapes that eventually turned into people. It was with great relief that he looked around at the others who held similar expressions to his own.

Gwaine whistled. "Well, I guess that solves the question whether or not Merlin can use New magic."

The warlock himself was staring at his hand in a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. The look on his face reminded Harry of how he'd felt when discovering he had magic for the first time.

"Merlin? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he breathed before a grin as wide as the Cheshire cat's spread across his face. "I've used magic my whole life but I've never felt it like this before. It's ten times stronger than any ancient spell I have ever done! And the feeling – I can't describe it!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione grinned in understanding.

"There's nothing like it," Harry agreed.

"It's euphoric," Hermione tried to explain to the others, "Like you've entered a state of happiness comparable to paradise."

"Oh, so like how I feel when I'm drunk," Gwaine mused.

Morgana swatted his chest while several people laughed.

"I think it might be better than that, Gwaine," Merlin chuckled.

"And you've never tried to use it before," said Arthur, shaking his head in consternation. "You've been around for hundreds of years and it never crossed your mind to try it? You are a wonder, Merlin."

Merlin sent his king a playful glare. "Being an elite warrior, if you had to choose between using a sword and using a dagger in battle which one would you settle for, Arthur? I've always seen the New magic as a dagger – of course I would never use it when I have the Old to work with!"

Seeing that they were about to witness another full on banter session, Morgana intervened. "While this is a wonderful discovery, I'm more concerned about where Mordred is."

"Oh, I threw him in Azkaban," Merlin answered.

"And do you think they'll be able to keep him there?" Guinevere asked, worried.

Merlin's smile was dark as he replied, "There's no need to fear him or what he can do, Gwen. The rune cuffs he's bound in are more than enough to contain him but I did lock the miserable little snake in the highest security cell the prison had to offer – and I secured the locks with a blood spell. I'm the only one who can enter or exit the room. He's not going anywhere."

Harry shuttered from the cold malice dripping from Merlin's tone as well as Mordred's imprisonment. The warlock's true wrath was not something anyone should dare kindle unless they were insane; Harry would rather fight Voldemort a thousand times over than face Merlin's ire.

"I still can't believe how much the future changed just because Mordred killed Uther," Leon muttered.

"What I can't believe is that Arthur wasn't the cocky, courageous prat we all know and love," Merlin said, grinning as the king glared at him.

"Like you weren't a nervous wreck yourself, Merlin," he snapped. "You would think that being so in tune with your magic would have given you the capability to recognize who I really was. But no – I had to tell you!"

"According to Harry, our other selves were really young when the bond was formed," Merlin defended. "I probably didn't remember it happening and I didn't know I was Emrys until I was ten in that timeline! Besides, it took at least four months in this one before I felt it between us and I was eighteen when we met!"

"Excuses, excuses," Arthur grinned.

Merlin scowled. "Clotpole."

"Idiot."

"Dollophead."

"Barmy old codger."

"Enough – both of you!" Freya snapped, her eyes flashing in annoyance. "Honestly, you're both grown men – you're older than all of us, Merlin! – and yet you still bicker like eleven year old school boys. Give it a rest and grow up already!"

Merlin and Arthur weren't the only ones shocked by her snippy outburst. Gwen looked rather concerned as she studied her friend but Morgana let out a giggle.

"Usually Gwen is the one telling them off," she laughed. "You must be in real trouble, Merlin, if Freya's snapping at you. Come to think of it, she's been doing that a lot lately."

Merlin looked befuddled, his eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to fathom the reason behind his wife's current outburst and others she'd made in the past.

"I didn't do something wrong… did I?"

Freya's anger slipped away in an instant, her countenance changing to one of apology as she sighed.

"No, it's not you. I guess this is as good a time as any – heaven knows we need some good news after everything Mordred tried to do – Merlin, we're going to have another baby."

The warlock's mouth dropped open and then the room filled with shouts of congratulations. Oriana looked like Christmas had come early and giggled the most as she witnessed her parents sharing a joyful kiss. Harry couldn't help but grin as he watched Arthur and the knights thump their old friend on the back. This future was so different from the one he'd helped to prevent; he thought of King Merlin's sorrowful countenance and the horrible future he had had to live in without his loved ones. It was such a drastic contrast to the warlock who was laughing and celebrating in the revelation that his family would be gaining another precious individual.

The Auror folded his arms and thought of Ginny. Perhaps they should start trying soon themselves…

A smile spread across his face. One thing he knew, everything would be okay now. The past had been fixed and Albion had been saved. By stopping Mordred, he, Ron, and Hermione had secured their children's future as well as Merlin and Arthur's.

They had won.

[][][]

The trial of Mordred Vlahos was held a week after he'd been captured and taken to Azkaban. The entire Wizengamot as well as the Camelotians took part, Harry, Ron, and Hermione providing key witnesses to Mordred's crimes by sharing their memories in a Pensive. Mordred denied nothing, keeping his vigil that he was acting in the best interests of their kind and that Merlin was a traitor and King Arthur a fool for trying to expose them to the muggle world.

But the catalyst of the whole event had been when the Triple Goddess herself decided to show up in the courtroom.

The present witches and wizards were struck with disbelief when her identity was made known. Only a select few of the Camelotians had seen the goddess since the days of the Old Religion. Merlin bowed respectfully to her and the Maiden permitted him to rise.

"My Emrys," she smiled, her eyes soft with love, "Albion's dawn in this time is speedily approaching thanks to you and the Future King's efforts. Because of this, my presence will once again be known in the realms of men."

"I never thought I'd see you in the Ministry of Magic," Merlin chuckled, glancing at the still-shocked Wizengamot.

The goddess wrinkled her nose. "It hasn't exactly been an establishment I have desired to visit in the past, truth be told; when the witches and wizards of the modern age refuse to respect you, you tend to leave them to their own devices. But your return to their world has sparked a desire to once again understand the Old ways and with that I can work more with those who have been blessed with magic.

"Now, to other matters. I am here to settle the matter of Mordred's fate."

The goddess walked around to face the ex-druid who was still bound in her chains. He kept his eyes averted from her gaze but he did have enough tact to respectfully acknowledge her.

"My lady," he murmured, inclining his head.

The goddess's eyes filled with sorrow. "You believed yourself to be Arthur's bane, Mordred, but I fear that you misunderstood the prophecies of old. Your destiny to wound the king was meant to be the stepping stone that would secure Albion's future. You played your part and were given a second chance because of it but you abused the gift of second life. I now come to pronounce your fate. For your attempt to destroy the rebirth of Albion – and the lives of those connected to it – you are hereby stripped of your magic and will live the rest of your days in the wizard prison Azkaban."

The Wizengamot froze in terror, their eyes filling with shock that such a fate had been given. Never before had they seen someone lose their magic; Arthur had suggested this punishment for Rodolphus Lestrange but Merlin had shot it down, saying that while he was capable of taking magic from others, he didn't do so unless instructed by the Old Religion. Well, the Triple Goddess was staring expectantly at the warlock now and it was with great sorrow that Merlin walked forward to perform the deed.

"You're allowing him to do it?" Mordred snarled, for the first time looking up into the goddess's face. "Why not take it from me yourself? You are a goddess! Surely you can handle this without getting him involved. Or does he simply do the dirty work so your lily-white hands will not be soiled? Pitiful – I don't know why anyone would ever worship –"

But his voice was stolen from him as Merlin's eyes glowed.

"Do not question the Triple Goddess in such a disrespectful manner," he commanded, his voice quiet but filled with authority. "Your sentence has been given and it is my duty to carry it out."

He paused, staring down at the man who used to be nothing but a terrified little boy, crying out for help in Camelot's inner courtyard. Sorrowing that his choices had led him to this unfortunate moment, Merlin reluctantly stretched out his palm.

"Incer feorhgiefu áweorpan be bearn sylfum sé eorðbígenga, géosceaft ealdgewyrht areht. Ádón sé drýcræft fram sé sáwol."

Mordred's hatred twisted into terror as the magic did its work. A small ball of light appeared directly over the ex-druid's heart. First the size of a speck of dust, it grew until its mass resembled a Quaffle, the white and black surface swirling about as if it were alive. Mordred's entire frame shook violently until the growth of light ceased. Merlin's outstretched hand tightened into a fist and he yanked his arm backward, the ball of light flying towards him as if attached to an invisible chain. He opened his palm again to catch it, his fingers wrapping around the tainted essence and turning it over so it rested in his hand. Letting out a weary sigh, he placed his other hand over the top of it and forced his palms together. The swirling mass simply faded away under the pressure until nothing remained. Upon its depletion, the master it once belonged to fell to the ground, unconscious. A startled gasp filled the room and Merlin turned away from Mordred, clearly torn from having to inflict such a punishment; he didn't feel that any deserved such a fate.

The Triple Goddess disappeared the moment the task was complete, leaving the warlock to face the Wizengamot alone.

"It is done," he stated. "Have the Aurors take him back to Azkaban. This council is dismissed."

Merlin walked over to Arthur, the king's expression reflecting his inner sorrow. The knights, Morgana, and Gwen also looked heartbroken; to each of them, Mordred had been a friend at some point. It hurt, seeing one they once so dearly loved reduced to the bitter soul he had become. Freya left her seat and wrapped her arms around her husband. Merlin accepted the comfort gratefully.

Arthur rested his hand on his shoulder. "Let's go home."

Merlin nodded. The others quickly formed a circle around them and Merlin channeled them away before the first row of the Wizengamot had even left their seats. The second they were back behind the safe walls of Hogwarts, Merlin sought solitude. The others left him alone – well, all except a certain king. Arthur soon fell in step beside him, the two not having to share a word to know where they were going. Reaching the door to his tower, Merlin sighed in relief at the familiar and comforting space. He wandered over to a thick armchair and sat down, resting his head in his hands.

Arthur's palm settled over the warlock's black tendrils.

"I know you didn't want to do it, Merlin."

"I've only done it once before, Arthur," he whispered, his eyes still closed as his heart ached. "The only thing I can compare it to is experiencing the death of a loved one. I do not wish for anyone to feel this way. The pain is so great."

Arthur knelt down and wrapped his arms around his old friend. "I'm sorry," he murmured as Merlin returned the embrace. "I forgot how much pain you experienced the last time. I never would have suggested taking away Rodolphus Lestrange's magic if I had remembered. Forgive me, Merlin."

The warlock sighed. "It's alright." Arthur withdrew and took the seat opposite him. "I pitied him in the past but I pity him more now. To take one's magic is to take part of their soul. The Old Religion has bestowed Mordred a fate almost as dreadful as the Dementor's Kiss."

"His choices brought about this consequence," Arthur sighed. "We can only hope no more suffer such a fate. I don't like watching you struggle with emotional issues. If I remember right, this magic removing sentence left you so distraught in the past that it took six months before I saw you smile again. You're not going to let that happen this time, are you?"

Merlin shook his head, proving it by sending him a tiny grin. "I have a lot more to be happy about now, prat. For one, I'm no longer immortal, and for another, I'm going to be a father for a second time!"

"And you have me and the others back in your life."

"Oh… right – should I really be happy about that though? I mean, I love seeing the others again but you were definitely a handful in the past; I don't know if having you back is a blessing."

"Oh, shut up," the king retorted, playfully throwing the pillow beside him into Merlin's face.

The warlock allowed the projectile to hit. After sharing a laugh, he stared happily at his Future King, silently grateful that, after everything they'd been through, they could now experience the joy of growing old together with those they loved.

"Thank you, Arthur," he muttered.

The king grinned. "Any time, old friend."

[][][]

EPILOGUE

[][][]

Hogwarts' hospital wing had been closed down, any students in need of care sent to another temporary clinic set up near the Great Hall. Every bed in the hospital wing remained unoccupied except for two, the mattresses having been pushed so close together that only a sliver of distance remained and that was only because the bed frames prevented them from touching. Candles flickered softly in the vast expanse, casting the humble setting in a bittersweet glow.

Every joint in Merlin's body ached as he shifted a little so he could get a better view of the man resting next to him on the bed that had been shoved very close to his own. Skin now white and paper thin, with lines of wisdom and extended life carved deeply into his features, Arthur Pendragon's blue eyes locked on to his, filled with love and triumph. A mental nudge came from the king and Merlin opened the link immediately.

It's nearly time – for me that is.

Merlin's eyes filled with amusement. You're not leaving without me this time, prat.

Arthur smirked. What if I did? Are you going to haunt me in the afterlife?

I'm considering it.

Arthur turned, looking at their sorrowful audience. I hate to leave them though.

Merlin agreed. It will be hard but we both know they'll be fine. We're leaving behind quite a legacy, aren't we?

Indeed, Arthur smiled.

"Dad, you two are doing it again," Alexander sighed, holding Oriana's hand.

"Sorry," Arthur croaked.

"Hurts to talk," Merlin added, his voice incredibly hoarse.

Oriana's eyes filled with tears. "I know, Dad, but we want to hear you."

"Yeah," Balinor, Merlin's son, agreed. His arm was wrapped around his wife, Vivenne; Gwaine and Morgana's daughter and only child. "This might be the last time…" He broke off and sniffled, wiping his eyes.

Merlin smiled at his son and Arthur chuckled. "He definitely takes after you, Merlin; girl's petticoat and all."

"At least he's not foolish to think that 'no man is worth his tears'," Merlin quipped back.

Arthur grinned.

"Idiot."

The warlock smirked.

"Prat."

Their banter was interrupted as a woman's hand wrapped around Arthur's ancient fingers. "Do you really have to go, grandpa?"

The king turned away from Merlin to send his eldest granddaughter a comforting smile.

"I'm afraid so, Lucy. You'll take care of your brother and sister and your parents when I'm gone, won't you?"

Lucy nodded, her long blonde curls bouncing lightly about her slightly tanned face.

"I will."

She then leaned forward and kissed Arthur's cheek before moving aside so her brother, Patrick, and her sister, Hailey, could say their goodbyes.

"You have two grandpas you know," Merlin grumbled due to the lack of attention.

Lucy grinned. "We know, Grandpa Merlin. Though I don't know why Dave and William haven't showered you with affection yet. They've had this whole time to do so."

Balinor and Vivenne's sons glared at their cousin before blushing.

"Sorry, Grandpa Merlin," William, the older of the two, muttered while Dave shuffled his feet.

Merlin smiled. "That's alright, boys; I understand."

Saying goodbye was never an easy thing, especially when you knew what was coming.

Hailey was the first to run around the beds to give Merlin a hug, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed his bearded face.

"I love you, grandpa," she muttered, her twelve year old eyes filled with sorrow and acceptance. "Say hi to grandma for me?"

"Of course," Merlin promised, ruffling her hair.

Patrick shuffled forward next and took his grandfather's withered hand.

"I'll miss you so much," he muttered. "I'm sorry I couldn't carry on your legacy."

Patrick was the only one out of the five grandchildren that had not inherited some form of magic. The teenager had been heartbroken when he received the letter for muggles who were to attend Hogwarts but Merlin had assured his grandson that he didn't love him any less while Arthur reminded him that he didn't have magic either and was just as strong and formidable as Merlin could be with the sword and spoken word.

Merlin squeezed Patrick's hand with the little strength he could summon.

"Patrick, you carry on my legacy without using magic."

"It's true," Arthur weakly laughed. "You inherited his impudence."

"As well as yours," Oriana sighed.

"Though some of Merlin's transferred to William," Vivenne pointed out.

It was common knowledge that William and Patrick were practically shadows of their grandfathers when it came to sharing insults and Arthur and Merlin couldn't be more proud. Dave was more like Freya, soft and sweet, while Lucy and Hailey had a thirst for adventure that often led to them meddling in things that they shouldn't. They reminded Merlin of a certain trio of friends that just so happened to be standing a little further away from the gathered family, bidding their time to say goodbye.

After the grandchildren had expressed their love, Merlin and Arthur asked to have a brief visit with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The families shuffled off to the side, hovering close, but providing enough room for the trio to stand at the edge of the beds. Merlin marveled at how old they were now, remembering their young faces as if it were only yesterday that he was helping them hunt down Voldemort's horcruxes.

"Wow, time flies," he murmured. "You three are ancient."

"Speak for yourself," Harry chuckled, now in his early sixties, his gray hair still sticking up in all directions.

"Yeah, now you look how you're supposed to," Ron said with a playful smirk.

He'd lost most of his hair but there was still some red mixed in with the gray and his freckles still dominated most of his face.

"I resent that," Arthur replied. "I've never been known to reach past the age of fifty in all our legends. Merlin though; you're right, Ron, his outward appearance now reflects his soul."

"Laugh at me all you want," Merlin grinned, "but naturally growing old is something I've been looking forward to for centuries."

"And it suits you well," Hermione smiled, her bushy hair now streaked with gray.

"Thank you, Hermione," said Merlin. "Still Minister of Magic, I see."

Hermione nodded. "I don't think they're going to replace me until I either die or force them to let me retire."

"Please, you love the job too much to give it up and you know it," Ron grinned, kissing his wife's cheek.

"Yes except for when I have to harp on Harry to do his job," she sighed.

"Hey, I handle things a lot better than I used to," Harry defended. "There was a lot going on in those first couple of years after the promotion."

"Don't remind me," Hermione shuddered. "I still have nightmares sometimes of that fiasco involving Voldemort and Bellatrix's daughter."

"Glad we chose to stay out of that one," Arthur muttered to Merlin. "We were too busy as it was, taking care of Albion matters."

"Yeah," Merlin sighed, his eyes starting to droop.

Why did he suddenly feel so lightheaded?

"Merlin?"

"Merlin!"

The old warlock opened his eyes, a rattling breath filling his lungs.

"I'm dying first, remember?" Arthur snapped, weakly slapping his hand.

"I never… agreed to that," Merlin mumbled. He was so tired; he just wanted to sleep. "I've been alive… this whole time… you prat. If anyone… deserves to leave first… it's me!"

"Whatever," Arthur whispered between uneven breaths. "You can say that… all you want… but I'm still the king… and I'll tell you when it's your time to die."

Merlin rolled his eyes and looked around at the trio as well as their posterity; they'd rushed back to their bedsides the moment he'd begun to fade.

"Can you… believe him? Impossible… prat…"

Arthur let out a feeble chuckle. "That's right… insufferable idiot…"

"My, my, my, look at the two of you. I never thought I'd see the day when the mighty idiot king and his pesky warlock would be ready to give up the ghost."

Merlin's eyes flew open and he immediately bolted upright. His eyes filled with wonder and inexpressible joy, for standing right at his bedside, having appeared out of nowhere, was –

"Well, if it isn't fickle feathers!" Arthur said, a grin on his face. "I'd hoped to never have to see you again."

"I shared the same sentiment but my job requires me to fetch your sorry hide to take you back to Avalon," Archimedes replied, his amber eyes glittering with inner happiness.

"How kind of you."

"Shall we go then?" Archimedes asked.

Arthur and Merlin stared at each other and gasped. The warlock could hardly believe his eyes. Arthur was sitting straight up, his face no longer burdened with the toll of age but filled with the life he held when in his prime. He was exactly as Merlin remembered him during the golden years of Camelot hundreds of years ago – he was even wearing his chainmail. And, if Arthur's expression was anything to go by, he too had de-aged back to his thirty two year old self. Merlin looked down to examine his hands but then discovered another surprise: while they were indeed youthful, they were also see-through. So was the rest of his body. In fact, he seemed to be sitting on someone and when he looked around it was to see the most bizarre sight: his old, decrepit body lying on the hospital bed.

"We died!" Arthur exclaimed, having discovered the same thing at the same time.

"Well done," Archimedes sneered, "your observation skills have definitely improved over the years, idiot king."

"Shut up, fickle feathers!" Arthur snapped, leaping from his bed to move away from his old, dead body.

He walked somewhat through his weeping posterity over to Merlin who still sat staring at the remains of who he used to be.

"Merlin?"

The warlock's spirit turned to look at Arthur in wonder and joy.

"I died," he whispered, his face spreading into the largest smile the king had ever seen. "I died, Arthur!"

He then leapt from his bed and threw his arms around his sovereign's neck before releasing him to hug Archimedes, the young man smiling tenderly as he patted the warlock a few times on the back.

"Welcome to the other side," Archimedes chuckled. "Now, before I lead the two of you into Avalon, there's something you need to know."

Merlin and Arthur shared a glance, suddenly feeling nervous.

"What is it?" the former asked.

"Your destiny makes this a rather unique situation," Archimedes sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"But I thought we completed our destinies," said Arthur, confused.

"Oh, you did, but the world is full of plenty of dunderheads that are eventually going to destroy everything you've done," Archimedes muttered. "What I'm getting at is, your destinies are to restore magic and unite the lands under one rule, correct?"

"Yes," they said at the same time.

"So, since people can be quite stupid, you two are going to have to go back to the world of the living several times to clean up the mess until this world comes to an end."

"What?!" Merlin and Arthur cried in horror before the latter added, "But that's not fair!"

Archimedes shrugged. "Sorry to break it to you but your destinies are tied in with the fabrics of this world. When it needs you to restore the balance between the magical and nonmagical communities, you'll be reborn. You'll fix the issue and then, when it's time for you to die, I'll show up to take you back to Avalon. Don't worry; your loved ones will always be there waiting for you – as they are right now."

"But we won't have them with us from now on whenever we have to be reborn?" Merlin guessed with a heavy scowl.

"I'm afraid not," Archimedes admitted, "Unless something happens to alter that decision. I'm sorry, Merlin. That's just the way it has to be."

"Merlin, you know how you said all those years ago that you're a servant of the Old Religion?" said Arthur.

"Yeah?"

"Now I know how you feel," the king groused. "It's horrible."

Merlin stared at Arthur a moment and then laughed. Wrapping an arm around him, he comforted, "You'll get used to it, Arthur. You're stuck with me forever, I'm afraid. If I have to serve it, so do you. Besides, who knows? Being reborn every once in a while could be fun."

Arthur stared at him in disbelief. "Sometimes I really think there is something seriously wrong with you."

"Stop being such a wet blanket, Arthur."

The king's face morphed from disbelief into a look of outrage.

"What did you just call me?"

"A supercilious, dollopheaded, condescending, egotistical wet blanket," Merlin deadpanned. "Though I think your best title is still King Prat."

From the look on Arthur's face, Merlin knew he had about two seconds to make a run for it. Without waiting for Archimedes to take him through the doorway to Avalon, the warlock sprinted right through it.

"MERLIN! GET BACK HERE, YOU CLUMSY IDIOT!" Arthur bellowed, chasing after him.

Emrys ignored the Once and Future King's demand, pelting across the evergreen grass and wide open country of Avalon. Thirty feet away, their welcoming party -consisting of everyone they loved who had gone before them- watched the chase with amusement and large smiles.

"Well, there they are," Gwaine laughed, squeezing Morgana's hand.

Gwen chuckled, her eyes bright with love for the man she'd been waiting to see again for what felt like an age. "Some things never change."

Freya stood beside her, her smile as warm as the sun.

"And they never will," she muttered.

Avalon seemed to brighten as the sound of Merlin's laughter filled the air, Arthur finally having tackled him to the ground. After playfully ruffling the warlock's hair, the two of them stood and looked around.

Arthur then threw an arm over Merlin's shoulder and grinned.

"Welcome to Avalon, old friend."

Merlin's eyes filled with tears of joy as he finally noticed his friends and family in the distance, all of them waving cheerfully and calling their names. He glanced at Arthur, his brother and king, and beamed. Honestly, the revelation of rebirth wasn't so bad if he always got to return to this. Nudging Arthur in the side, he tilted his head and the two of them shared a grin before running off to reunite with their loved ones.

Meanwhile, in the world of the living, new prophecies began to fall from the lips of renowned seers of a King and his Warlock who would always return when the world was about to be covered in shadow.

For when Albion's need was greatest, they would always rise again.

THE END

Wow, I can't believe this is the end for this little series of mine. I have had this epilogue in my head ever since I started writing Loss and Light. I can't tell you how happy I am with it and that I can finally share it with all of you! Please leave me one last review for this story, sharing your thoughts. Thanks for sticking with me, guys. I hope to hear from you all again in another story (Perhaps my other Harry Potter/ Merlin crossover, The Sorcerer's Stone). If you have any questions about anything that might not have made it into this story that you're wondering about, send me a PM and I'll be happy to answer them! Happy writing and reading! And may Merlin and Harry Potter live on forever! :) - Pumpkinmoose22

Spell meaning: Second gift of life rejected by child of the earth, fate has spoken. Remove the magic from the soul.