Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter

Chapter 12

For the Future of Albion

Four days after his talk with Dumbledore, Merlin felt himself begin to recover. Madam Pomfrey was more than relieved to see the small improvements and, after a couple days persuasion, she allowed him visitors.

"Everyone thinks you died or something," Henry said dramatically the second he was allowed into the Hospital Wing.

"Seriously?"

"Those are only the wilder rumors," said Caroline as she gave Merlin a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad to know they're not true."

"Don't go kissing the invalid, Caroline!" Henry gasped. "You might get infected."

"Oh please, it's not contagious." Perenelle rolled her eyes though she was grinning.

Merlin was glad to see her. After that first night she was treated like every other student, Madam Pomfrey denying her entrance but being kind enough to at least report his condition every time she stopped by. Merlin wanted nothing more than to leap out of bed and wrap his arms around her but he was still too weak to move so he settled for holding her hand.

"So, what's the verdict on your O.W.L.s?" Henry asked.

"Dumbledore says that if I'm not well enough to take them with you guys then I'll have to make them up," Merlin answered, annoyed.

"Don't be so upset, Arlin, that will give you more time to study," said Caroline.

"Like he needs it," Henry snorted but it was said in humor not offense.

Merlin smiled. His friends and wife stayed for about an hour before leaving to go study some more. O.W.L.s were to take place in less than a week and the fifth years were taking advantage of every spare moment to cram their heads with knowledge.

In the afternoon Dumbledore dropped by and the two had a quiet conversation (which Merlin muffled) about how the headmaster felt he'd successfully stopped the unicorns from dying.

"You influenced Professor McGonagall to give four first year students a detention of accompanying Hagrid into the Forbidden Forest in the dead of night?"

Dumbledore wasn't at all intimidated by Merlin's displeasure as he replied, "They were perfectly safe with Hagrid and I knew that if there were witnesses of Quirrell's actions that it would stop Voldemort from pursuing his new hobby. The event would have been brought to my attention and the last thing he wants is me personally sniffing around in his business. He won't be attacking unicorns again."

Since he was feeling better Merlin begrudgingly agreed with Dumbledore on that front.

"I still think it was reckless of you to send Harry of all people into the woods when we knew Voldemort was out there!"

"It was a gamble I was willing to make," Dumbledore gravely sighed. "I had all faith that Hagrid wouldn't let anything happen to him and, as you can see, the boy is perfectly safe."

"For now, at least," Merlin muttered. "If Voldemort no longer feels it's safe to get unicorn blood to sustain him, you know what he's going to try next."

"Isn't that what we've been hoping for?"

"Yes," Merlin answered, "but I'm not up to strength yet and you might need my help to detain him when he does go after the Stone."

"Then I suggest you rest as much as possible," Dumbledore smiled. "You don't have to stress about your O.W.L.s anymore, seeing as, at this rate, I believe you will not be recovered in time to take them."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I was never stressed about them to begin with, Albus."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I'm well aware, my friend."

[][][]

A week later Merlin had an unexpected visitor.

"Newt!" he cried in delight, clasping his old friend's hand. "What are you doing here?"

"Nellie sent me an owl. She was worried about you." The Magizoologist said while studying the warlock with a concerned eye. "What happened?"

Merlin glanced at Madam Pomfrey who was hovering nearby, a disgruntled expression on her face; she still didn't approve of people disturbing her patient – especially in the evening hours.

"I'm not entirely sure," he lied, his eyes straying to the window.

The sun was already low in its descent, the sky a deep bluish hue; the beginnings of a perfect summer night. He may not feel completely one hundred percent but the warlock was beginning to feel sorely confined. For days he'd tried to convince Madam Pomfrey to let him leave but she refused, ending the conversation by threatening to force a sleeping draught down his throat. He wanted to confide in Newt but he couldn't do it here. Perhaps… perhaps the nurse would allow him temporary leave?

"Madam Pomfrey?"

The nurse bustled over at once. "What is it, Arlin? Are you in pain? Do you need to be left alone?" She glared disapprovingly at Newt.

"No, no, I'm fine," Merlin assured, amused by the way Newt took a cautious step back. "I just wondered… would it be okay if I left for a while?"

"Absolutely not!"

"But –"

"You're not fully recovered and there's every chance you might collapse again due to straining yourself."

"Please, Madam Pomfrey," Merlin begged, trying his best to show just how miserable he felt," I haven't left this place in two weeks. I'm growing restless. Can't I just go on a walk with Mr. Scamander? – To stretch my legs a bit? I won't do anything strenuous, I promise!"

"I'll make sure he doesn't," Newt put in helpfully, "and I'll bring him back the second I believe he's ill."

"He already is," Madam Pomfrey countered.

"Too ill to go for a little walk around the castle?" Merlin gently pushed.

The nurse pursed her lips, a silent war waging in her brain. Merlin held his breath. He'd give anything to get out of this place.

Madam Pomfrey finally relented. "Under no circumstance are you to use magic and you are to be back here no later than nine o'clock! You may no longer look like death warmed over but you are not fully recovered and still need an adequate amount of rest."

Merlin's grin was wide as he flung his covers aside and stood. "Thanks, Madam Pomfrey. I'll be back then, I promise."

"If not I'll bind you to that bed and keep you comatose until the summer holidays," she threatened, her voice deathly serious. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Merlin replied. "Come on, Newt."

"Remember what I said, Arlin!" Madam Pomfrey called as the two men left the Hospital Wing.

Merlin couldn't believe his luck. He had a whole hour to spend wandering around with Newt and he knew exactly where he wanted to go. He may have been told not to use magic – a definite irritant, to be sure – but Madam Pomfrey hadn't restricted him to the castle. Grinning, he led Newt to the nearest exit and out into the beginnings of a twilit world.

Newt chuckled. "Why am I not surprised that the second you were released you ran outdoors?"

"I've been confined behind stone walls for too long," Merlin stated, "and I didn't want to talk with Madam Pomfrey around. Come on; there's something I need to do."

"Where are we going?" Newt asked as they headed towards the greenhouses.

"The forest."

"I don't think going in there constitutes as 'a simple walk around the castle,'" Newt teased.

"I have enough strength to go wandering through the woods, Newt. Besides, I need to check on the unicorns."

"The unicorns?"

Merlin spent the rest of their walk from the grassy slope to the forest's edge explaining what had happened to him. As always, Newt was a good listener. He was understandably outraged that anyone would have the audacity to kill a unicorn and the words he used to describe Quirrell left Merlin temporarily speechless; he'd never heard his old friend use such language before.

Before entering the woods Newt lit his wand and Merlin conjured a ball of light; even though he'd been told not to use magic, he wasn't about to go walking blindly through the forest. Besides, the spell took little to no energy at all to make.

After venturing about a hundred feet in the evergreen atmosphere, the sound of hooves caught their attention and both men grew still. A moment later the area exploded with the presence of at least a dozen centaurs, each armed with bows and arrows aimed at the wizards' chests.

"Emrys!" one cried in surprise, slightly lowering his bow. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to check on the unicorns," Merlin answered, noticing the mistrustful looks the others were sending Newt. "This is my colleague, Newt Scamander. A greater friend to magical creatures you will never meet."

"A high recommendation," a bay centaur commented, "for a wizard."

"But is it to be believed, Cicilius?" the first to recognize Merlin asked.

"Since it came from Emrys himself, I believe it should be, Bane," Cicilius answered before turning back to Merlin. "Forgive us. Though evil no longer plagues this forest, we are rather wary."

"When did the attacks stop?"

"About a week ago," Bane answered, "Though the unicorns are still frightened and have retreated further into the wood. We centaurs have taken up the task to patrol the area and intend to kill anything or anyone that does not belong here. We cannot allow the balance to continue to be violated."

"I agree," Merlin stated, "And I should hope you don't see me as a threat."

"We do not," Cicilius reassured, "but your friend… you know how we feel about wizards, Emrys."

"I have already stated that Newt has my confidence. If you trust me then put trust in my word."

The centaurs did not look happy but silently consented.

Bane, the apparent leader of the group, suddenly looked up into the sky and muttered, "Mars is particularly bright tonight. Take care, Emrys. We will allow your friend's presence but only because he is with you."

"Thanks," Merlin said, trying hard not to let annoyance drip into his tone.

The centaurs then took their leave, continuing their patrol towards the west.

"They were cheerful," Newt chuckled, undisturbed by their prejudice towards him.

"As cheerful as centaurs can be," Merlin grumbled, pushing aside a low hanging branch. "Come on; even though they said Voldemort is gone, I want Aithusa to confirm it."

They reached the clearing they'd visited during Christmas time and Merlin sent out the call. They waited for a quarter of an hour before the mother dragon arrived, her large white scales glittering in their enchanted light.

"Merlin – and Newt! – what a delightful surprise," she greeted after sharing her customary bow with her dragonlord.

Merlin got right to the point. "Do you think the attacks have stopped?"

A low growl escaped the back of the dragon's throat. "They have, Merlin. Though I have been dwelling in the nearby mountains, I have felt the calamity of the forest. It has calmed significantly these past eight days and no further deaths have upset the Old Religion. I am sure you have felt the effects?"

"I have," Merlin nodded. "I no longer feel like I'm dying but my magic –"

"Is still weak," Aithusa finished, nodding her great head. "The death of so many unicorns in so short a time has disrupted us all who belong to the Old ways. It will take a while for the balance to restore itself. If possible it would be wise to continue healing, warlock, and refrain from heavily exercising your magic at present."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," Merlin sighed. "Do you think Voldemort will come back here?"

Aithusa shook her head. "His sights have moved on." –A pause – "Merlin, the Stone, do you have it?"

Merlin removed the small pouch from around his neck and pulled out the Sorcerer's Stone, holding it out to her.

"You must not allow Voldemort to possess it!"

"He never will," the warlock assured, confused by the abrupt change of subject and her sudden ferocity.

"Merlin."

The way in which she said his name caused every muscle in the warlock's body to seize. Rarely had Aithusa spoken to him with such a tone and usually it was because whatever she was about to convey was meant to be obeyed.

"You must be willing to sacrifice everything, if necessary, to protect it. Voldemort cannot gain the Stone. It would be the end of the future of Albion if he did."

A bolt of fear tore through Merlin's heart like lightning. "What do you mean by that?"

"Heed my words, warlock," she said, stretching her wings, "You must do whatever is necessary. And heed the centaur's warning."

"Now, hang on!" Merlin cried since she'd taken to the air. "Aithusa? Now is not the time to get all cryptic like Kilgharrah! Aithusa!"

But the dragon was gone, her wing beats already sounding like they were a mile away.

"What warning?" he uselessly continued to shout. "They didn't say anything!" Turning to Newt he grumbled further, "Do you have any idea what she was talking about?"

Newt shook his head, his ancient face pulled in a disturbed frown. "I don't, Merlin, but I don't like it."

"Neither do I."

The warlock began to pace.

"What did she mean?" he muttered, mulling over her words.

How he hated the perplexity of dragons! Why was it whenever something threatening was about to occur, they felt the need to speak in unholy riddles? The centaur's warning; what warning? And what was this about Albion's future being threatened?

For some reason he felt the latter had to deal with Arthur. If Albion's future was in peril, so was Arthur's because Arthur was its Future King. But Arthur had yet to return. Wait, was Aithusa hinting that if Voldemort got the Stone then Arthur might not come back? No, that didn't make any sense. Maybe, maybe Arthur's life and his purpose as the Future King would be threatened directly by Voldemort having immortality? That seemed more logical.

But there was no way Merlin was going to allow that to happen! Anyone who dared pose a threat to his king would find themselves wishing they'd never been born – especially once the Prat finally decided to come back; Merlin would die before losing him again.

Feeling there wasn't further need to fear about that matter, Merlin moved on to recalling everything the centaurs had said.

They'd talked about the unicorns, planned to cut down any threat that set foot in their forest, and practically stated they would have killed Newt if he hadn't been with him.

"What am I missing?"

"Pertaining to what?" Newt prompted, desirous to help.

"The centaurs," Merlin elaborated. "From everything they said, what might be interpreted as a warning?"

"Bane did tell you to take care," Newt pointed out. "And he said something about Mars before that."

Merlin froze, his eyes widening.

"Merlin?"

The warlock looked up and searched the sky until he found the red planet burning hundreds of miles away. It shone with brilliance. Mars was the Greek God of War.

War.

Everything clicked into place and Merlin suddenly swore.

"We need to get back to the castle right now!" he cried, shoving the Sorcerer's Stone into the pocket of his robes before sprinting back toward the trees.

"Merlin?" Newt cried as he followed the warlock and his retreating light, "Wait up!"

How could he have been so stupid? Aithusa and Bane had basically told him the same thing. Mars being particularly bright tonight – Voldemort no longer trying to live off unicorn blood – his sights returning to his original goal – he was going after the Stone tonight!

Newt huffed and puffed somewhere behind him, remarkably keeping up despite his old age. By the time they left the forest the stars were fully visible in the night sky and the grounds were paved with moonlight. Merlin looked down at his watch. Eleven o'clock?! How had it gotten so late? Madam Pomfrey was going to kill him; not that he had any intention of going back to the Hospital Wing.

Newt suddenly grabbed his arm, halting his pace.

"Merlin," he wheezed, "what – is going – on?"

He grabbed Newt's shoulders. "Newt, listen to me. Voldemort is making his move tonight."

"What?!"

"He's going after the Stone!"

"But the Stone's right here!"

"We made a fake. We were going to ambush him. Look, I need you to get Albus. Have him go to the third floor. We might already be too late but I'm going to try to get to the Stone's chamber first. Tell Albus to get there as soon as he can."

And without another word, he continued his sprint towards the castle, leaving Newt in the dark.

It took him ten minutes to make it up the sloped lawn. Taking the steps two at a time, he slammed his shoulder into one of the doors, forcing it open with a loud bang. Ignoring the noise, he pushed his legs to go faster, climbing the marble staircase and running down the corridor towards the entrance of the next floor. He reached the third floor corridor fifteen minutes later, severely out of breath with a stitch in his side. The door containing Fluffy was wide open, the large three headed dog barking like mad. Merlin entered the room and commanded the beast to be still in the old tongue.

The trap door was open.

Cursing, Merlin plunged into the darkness without a second thought. Landing on the Devil's Snare, he shouted, "Forbearnan!"

Fire erupted all around him and the warlock scrambled away from the blaze. The dangerous plant squirmed and slithered towards the shadows, desperate to get away from the light. Merlin extinguished the flame and gasped, pain erupting somewhere near his navel. It lasted several seconds before dimming to a dull throb. He'd temporarily forgotten his magic was still recovering.

Cursing again, the warlock carded his fingers through his hair. What was he to do? He didn't have time to wait for Dumbledore to help him break through all the protection spells. There was every chance that Voldemort was already in the Stone's chamber. Once he discovered the Stone was a fake he'd be gone before either Merlin or Dumbledore could confront him.

There was only one thing to do.

Sighing wearily, Merlin muttered to himself, "Well, I've had to do hard things before."

He was just about to transport when someone cried his name.

"Merlin!"

Dumbledore had arrived, landing on the Devil's Snare and conjuring fire the same as Merlin had but with a wave of his wand.

"Albus?! I didn't think Newt would get to you in time."

"Newt? I'm afraid we must have missed each other. Quickly, Merlin, Voldemort –"

Not even bothering to question how on earth Dumbledore knew what was happening, the warlock grabbed the headmaster's arm.

"We might miss him if we waste time trying to fight our way through the enchantments. I'll transport us there."

"But, Merlin, your magic –"

"I'll be fine."

The warlock secured his grip on Dumbledore's arm and transported directly into the Stone's chamber. What neither man was prepared for were the screams that assaulted their ears the moment they appeared.

"KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" someone was shouting over the agonized shrieks of Quirinus Quirrell who was flailing about, trying desperately to remove a young boy from his blistering arm.

"Harry!" Dumbledore cried, racing forward to pry the youth away from the treacherous professor. "Harry!"

Merlin moved to join him but tripped over a tangle of purple material; the remains of Quirrell's turban. Wincing, he looked up from his place on the floor. A small amount of rope lay forgotten to the side while the Mirror of Erised, the only other object in the room, stood tall, a silent witness to the scene taking place.

Professor Quirrell lay on the ground, his body smoldering as if it had just been removed from a boiling furnace, his skin blistered, cracked, and bleeding. Dumbledore was leaning over an unconscious Harry Potter, waving his wand and muttering under his breath. Merlin, therefore, was the only one who saw the smoky figure of Voldemort rising from Quirrell's ruined body. His red eyes quickly observed the headmaster and child before filling with hatred. The unfinished form started to rush towards Dumbledore's unsuspecting back and Merlin reacted without thinking. Leaping to his feet, he thrust himself in front of his distracted friend and Voldemort's 'body' slammed into him. Merlin gasped, falling forward onto his hands and knees.

His vision temporarily vanished, blackness replacing sight. He tried to move his limbs but they refused to obey his command. Unable to move an inch, Merlin found himself trapped within some kind of mental cage. A sinister voice suddenly whispered in the shadows like the hiss of a snake.

"You have power… more than I first supposed… Who are you?"

Even though he refused to answer Merlin felt a dark force prying through his mind and immediately he constructed a wall. He tried desperately to fight but Voldemort's Legilimency was powerful and his magic was still not up to par. A moment passed and the warlock let out a gasp of pain. His metal wall broke, memories of his past filtered through against his will for Voldemort to see.

"No," Merlin mourned, flashes of his life parading unbidden before his eyes like a film in fast forward.

Camelot, Arthur, Gwen, the Knights, Gaius, Morgana… each one whispering his name, the ghost of their voices betraying his identity to the evil possessing him.

"What is this?" Voldemort hissed in surprise. "Can you possibly be…?"

The memories continued.

Arthur's death, Camelot's fall, the passage of time and his damnation of immortality, Perenelle, the creation of the Stone, his masquerading as a student, the Stone's current location within his pocket…

"NO!" Merlin cried, forcing the memories closed and pushing Voldemort into the mental cage he'd previously been in.

His magic surged painfully from the strain but he'd finally regained control, his vision returning quick and fast. His heart hammered within his chest, his limbs violently shaking as if they were made of jello against the stone flooring. As he attempted to gulp down air, Merlin felt the presence of evil clawing at his mind. Already Voldemort was fighting for dominance.

"Merlin!"

Dumbledore was kneeling next to him, his blue eyes filled with nothing but concern and worry.

"He's inside me," Merlin gasped.

"What?"

"I'm keeping him at bay but" – he paused, wincing as once again the evil magic pulsed painfully against his own – "my magic is still weak. I don't know if I can hold him off for much longer."

"Can't you force him out?"

"He might try to possess you or Harry if I do. I can't allow that to happen."

"Then what are we going to do?"

Merlin grit his teeth, combating another unseen attack. This was worse than the time he fought Cornelius Sigan. Never in his life would he have thought a modern wizard could have such powerful magic – and Voldemort wasn't even at full strength! To be fair, however, neither was he. Both men were weak and desperate for control but Merlin knew he couldn't give in.

"Merlin?" Dumbledore cried worriedly.

Merlin glanced up and something behind the headmaster caught his eye, his control nearly slipping due to surprise.

The Mirror of Erised was no longer empty but containing the image of the Once and Future King.

Arthur, however, did not look dignified. His brow was furrowed in frustration, his fists slamming into the mirror's surface as if attempting to break it. His mouth was frantically moving, shouting something Merlin couldn't hear.

"Arthur," he breathed, pushing Dumbledore aside.

"What?" the headmaster cried, spinning around to face the mirror.

The king halted his actions, a look of relief on his face. Merlin's eyes widened.

"Arthur?" he questioned again, stumbling to his feet.

Arthur's mouth moved but no sound escaped the mirror.

"You can hear me?" Merlin gasped. "You're really there?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and snapped something, his hands moving frantically.

Despite the pain and the constant evil surging within him from a raging sorcerer, Merlin's whole being lit up with happiness. Arthur was there. He wasn't an image. He was really, truly there!

"How is this possible?" Dumbledore asked in disbelief.

Merlin shook his head. "I'm not sure. Arthur, listen, I can't hear you but somehow you can hear me. Don't give me that look clotpole, I don't know why."

Arthur scowled and pounded on the glass. Merlin lifted a shaky palm and rested his hand against the surface. It remained solid on his end. Perplexed, he felt strange magic at work and in that moment instruction filled his mind: Thrust the Stone through the mirror. The King must destroy it or all is lost.

Merlin blanched. That voice. He hadn't heard it in centuries.

"F-Freya?" he whispered.

The instruction came again, this time with greater urgency. Thrust the Stone through the mirror, Merlin! The King must destroy it or all is lost!

Merlin pulled the Sorcerer's Stone from his pocket as the message finally sank in. He shook his head. Freya couldn't be asking this of him. The Old Religion couldn't be asking this of him. It was too much.

"You must be willing to sacrifice everything, if necessary, to protect it. Voldemort cannot gain the Stone. It would be the end of the future of Albion if he did."

Merlin gasped, Freya repeating the words of Aithusa in his mind. The dragon had known this was going to happen. She knew that an ultimate sacrifice would have to be made.

"Merlin?" Dumbledore prompted.

Just then the worst attack yet slammed into his magical barrier and Merlin cried out, grabbing his head. Arthur slammed his fist into the mirror's surface again while Dumbledore latched onto the warlock's shoulders. A temporary flash of red coated the warlock's eyes before disappearing within the blue.

"I'm alright," Merlin whispered, gently pushing Dumbledore's hand away along with his hesitation. Facing the mirror he looked into the concerned eyes of his king. "You'd better be coming back soon because I'm tired of waiting for you. Never mind about that now, though; you need to listen to me. I'm about to give you a powerful magical object –" Arthur reeled backward and Merlin scowled impatiently. "There's no need to freak out, Arthur, it won't hurt you! You just need to destroy it. If you don't the evil wizard currently trying to possess me will get hold of it and the world will be in grave danger."

Arthur looked at him skeptically, his arms folding over his chainmail.

Angered by his reaction Merlin snapped, "For once in your life will you just accept that I know what I'm talking about?!"

Arthur threw up his hands in surrender, his eyes apologetic as his lips moved.

"Use Excalibur," Merlin instructed, seeing the sword resting at his king's hip. "It's a magical blade – yes, magical! – don't look at me like that, it was made specifically for you to help you build Albion. The point is, it has the power to do what needs to be done."

Arthur opened his mouth to argue but Merlin slammed his fist against the glass, gritting his teeth in pain as another one of Voldemort's attacks slammed against the mental cage.

"Just do this for me," Merlin begged, tears beginning to form in his eyes. "Please."

Arthur studied him a moment before nodding. Stepping backward he drew his sword and got into a readied stance. Merlin looked down at the Stone. This was it. Without it…

Perenelle, forgive me.

Biting his lip, Merlin shoved the precious object against the mirror, tears streaming down his face. The Stone slipped effortlessly through the surface, permitted to cross over the barrier by the Old Religion. Merlin watched as Arthur rushed forward, thrusting the tip of Excalibur through the Stone's red exterior the second it hit the floor. The Stone shattered into a million pieces – just like Merlin's heart.

A scream of anger erupted within his mind and Merlin was thrown backward. The image of Arthur in the mirror vanished right before the warlock slammed into the ground. His vision began to darken again but this time it was due to unconsciousness. The shady form of Voldemort hovered a moment over him before flying away.

"Merlin!"

Dumbledore was shaking his shoulders. The old warlock wished he wouldn't. He wanted nothing more than to sleep.

"Voldemort?"

"Fled."

"Good," he whispered.

They'd won this round. With that knowledge the warlock passed out.

[][][]

Someone was placing something cool on his forehead. Flinching, Merlin blearily opened his eyes.

"Merlin! Oh, thank the Triple Goddess!"

He was looking up at the face of an angel. Perenelle's cheeks were streaked with tears, her eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying. Her long hair trailed about her fifteen year old face, briefly tickling his when she leaned in to kiss him.

"I was so afraid," she confessed. "You've been unconscious for over a week."

"W-What?" Merlin croaked.

Perenelle took his hand. "Everyone knows what happened between Harry Potter and Quirrell but – through some miracle – nobody found out you were involved. Although…" she paused.

"Nellie?" Merlin prompted, staring worriedly at his wife.

"Well… Albus might have had to tell Madam Pomfrey who you are," she muttered.

"What?!"

"Not that you're Merlin!" she quickly explained in a hushed voice, "But that you're Nicolas Flamel. She was downright terrifying, you see, and threatened to contact your parents. After that the whole thing kind of slipped out. It was easier than trying to invent some story about you being an orphan and what not. She's the only one who knows the truth about us and where you actually were that night. She's been a godsend, actually, assuring all the teachers and students that you merely collapsed during a walk around the grounds with Mr. Scamander – an old family friend of yours – on the same night that Harry happened to face Quirrell. Everyone pretty much believed it, seeing as it was common knowledge among the Ravenclaws that you'd been recovering for two weeks due to some unknown illness before then. Having Newt as an alibi helped as well."

Merlin sat back, reeling in all the information. Wait, if it had been a week…

"School's over," he muttered.

Perenelle nodded. "Madam Pomfrey said we can stay here as long as needed for you to recover."

"That's generous," Merlin sighed, closing his eyes.

How was it possible that after so much sleep he still felt utterly exhausted?

"Merlin?"

"Hmmm?" He opened his eyes to see Perenelle squirming in her chair. "Nellie? What is it?"

"Albus told me what happened. Oh, Merlin, I just can't believe it. You were possessed by Voldemort and you saw Arthur and you had to destroy the Stone…"

The implication hit him like a ton of bricks and tears clouded his vision.

"Merlin? Are you okay?"

A watery chuckle of disbelief escaped him. "How on earth can I be okay, Perenelle?" he weakly cried. "The Stone…"

His wife took his hand in hers and kissed his knuckles. "Merlin, I'm not upset about it."

"What? How can you not be? Without it…"

He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. It was too painful to admit. His heart was already broken, shattered the moment his best friend destroyed the one thing keeping his wife alive.

"Why does my life have to be filled with such cruelty?" he lamented. "Have I not suffered enough?"

"Oh, Merlin," Perenelle whispered, scooting onto the bed and holding him as he cried.

"I don't want to lose you," he sobbed. "I-I don't think I can survive without you."

Perenelle kissed his forehead. "Merlin, we've lived a long and happy life, haven't we?"

"Yes."

"We've created countless memories, right?"

"Countless," he agreed.

"I love you so much," she said, her breath hitching, "and therefore I hope and pray that you will promise me this one thing."

"What?"

"Promise me, that when I'm gone –"

"No, Perenelle," he interrupted. "No! We'll find a way – I'll make a new Stone – I'll –"

She silenced him by placing a finger delicately to his lips and shook her head. "You can't create another Stone, Merlin. You can't give Voldemort that kind of opportunity again. Listen, I've spoken with Aithusa–"

Mention of the dragon's name sent ripples of anger through Merlin's soul.

"She knew," he interrupted. "She knew this was going to happen! She knew that the Stone was going to be destroyed – that you were going to have to… to…"

Perenelle swallowed painfully. "Yes, Merlin, she knew. What happened between you and Voldemort in that chamber was the beginning of the future you've been waiting for."

Merlin's breath hitched. "You mean… Arthur…?"

"His time is coming," Perenelle sadly smiled, "and mine is ending."

Merlin shook his head. "Why? Why can't I have you both?"

"Merlin, I should have died centuries ago. Your magic has kept me alive but now it is meant to be returned to Arthur. He will need you to help him adjust to this strange world. Your time must be devoted solely to him. Besides, this is not really the end, my love. I will wait for you in Avalon."

"I'm cursed to never die, Nellie," he bitterly pointed out. "You'll be waiting for eternity."

"If that's what it takes," she answered, kissing him. "My heart is yours."

"As mine is yours."

His beautiful wife smiled and shook her head. "Not completely."

Merlin flinched and looked away, angry with himself that he couldn't argue with her. Perenelle chuckled before kissing his forehead.

"I'm sure it is the same for Arthur and Guinevere. You and the king are two sides of the same coin after all, two halves that make a whole. Guinevere and I love you both but we know that our love will never be enough on its own. You need each other."

"It isn't fair."

"Life is never fair, Merlin, but it is we who choose how to go about living it. Now, promise me, when I go, you will not live the rest of your life in bitterness and sorrow. Take time to grieve but do not wither away. I need to know that you'll smile again and continue to be the Merlin that I love."

"Nellie… how can I promise that? How can I find joy when I know you will no longer be there?"

"Because I'll be in here," she said, pointing at his heart, "along with everyone else that you have lost. You didn't wither away when they left this life. I know you won't allow that to happen now."

"I didn't live over six hundred years with any of them either," he pointed out.

She laughed sadly. "No, but I personally think it all comes down to choice. People never know how much time they have with those they love. Some relationships last for days, others a lifetime. How we decide to accept the loss will determine entirely on how the rest of our lives play out. You can become bitter and resentful, a shell of the man I love, or you can allow yourself to grieve for a time and then focus on the happiness we shared and the memories we made. Promise me that you will live in such a way that will guarantee that when we see each other again – for we will – you'll greet me with a triumphant smile."

Merlin let out a sniffle before latching onto her. "I p-promise," he whispered brokenly. "I promise."

Perenelle kissed him then. "I know you'll succeed, Merlin, because I know you'll never give up. I love you so much."

"I love you too," he cried.

They spent the rest of the afternoon making plans. Perenelle had enough Elixir to live until the end of the year and Merlin was determined to make it the best of her life. They wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts. Instead they would travel the world and do whatever the heck they wanted to do with the time they had left.

Dumbledore came by to visit in the evening, burning with questions over what had happened down in the Stone's chamber.

"I'm not entirely sure," Merlin confessed. "All I can tell you is that a message came via the Lady of the Lake to destroy the Stone to protect the future of Albion. Arthur's sword, Excalibur, has the power to slay anything immortal and was buried with him. The Stone had to be destroyed then and there or else Voldemort would have gained possession of it. My theory is the Old Religion provided a way for Arthur to be there to do the job."

"And he vanished from the mirror right after you fell," Dumbledore confirmed. "Voldemort fled as well though I don't understand why he didn't try something else."

Merlin bit his lip. The evil wizard's retreat was rather worrying.

"Especially since he now knows who I really am," he muttered with a furrowed brow.

"What?" Perenelle cried. "How?"

"He broke into my memories. I didn't really possess the strength to stop him at the time. I shouldn't have used that transport spell; it severely drained my magic. I was honestly running on fumes through the whole ordeal."

"That was very foolish thing to do, Merlin," Dumbledore admonished.

"If I hadn't done it Harry would have died," the warlock argued. "How is the boy anyway?"

Dumbledore sighed but gave in to the abrupt change of subject. "He's fine. He had a few questions and apparently figured out that the Stone belonged to you. I told him it had been destroyed and that you and Perenelle were fine with the idea of dying."

"Except it won't be both of us," Merlin said bitterly.

Perenelle rested her hand over his. "But we are both okay with it."

Merlin sighed. "Yes," he reluctantly admitted, "we are."

Dumbledore still looked crestfallen. "Is there really nothing that can be done?"

Perenelle and Merlin shook their heads.

"Whether I like it or not, this is the way things are meant to be, Albus," Merlin answered. "Destiny is weaving its threads once more and I learned long ago not to disrupt its creation. Perenelle will have to go to Avalon."

"And wait until Merlin's time comes," she faithfully and bravely stated, firmly holding her husband's hand. "In the meantime, he'll have his hands full with Arthur."

"He is soon to return then?" Dumbledore wondered, eyes wide.

"Nellie thinks so," said Merlin. "I've been waiting for centuries. I'm not about to hold my breath and think he'll show up the second she's gone. I honestly hope he doesn't. I don't think I'll be able to handle everything emotionally all at once."

Perenelle squeezed his hand and smiled at him sadly. "Everything will work out the way it is meant to."

"Indeed it will," he reluctantly agreed. "It always does."

Dumbledore suddenly rested a comforting hand on his forearm. "I will be here to support you, old friend, should you ever need a shoulder to lean on."

Merlin's eyes glistened with gratitude. "Thank you, Albus."

The old warlock didn't know what the near future would hold. So much had happened. He'd seen Arthur again, lost the one way of keeping his love alive, and been revealed to the most evil wizard to walk the earth since Morgana's days – all in less than twenty four hours. Nobody knew where Voldemort had gone but Merlin felt he'd be back because Mars, the symbol of war, burned brightly in the heavens and the whispers of Destiny danced on the wind. As long as the evil wizard lived, Albion's safety was threatened. And for the first time in centuries Merlin felt a stirring.

The time of the Once and Future King was drawing near. Arthur's return was soon, just as Perenelle believed. While despair for her threatened to drown him, hope over this revelation gave him something firm to stand on. He therefore determined in that moment that he'd keep his promise to both his wife and his brother: no matter what future he faced, he would never give up and he would never change.

He had to keep fighting until his Destiny was fulfilled and this time Merlin was determined to do whatever it took to make sure it was. I won't fail, he silently vowed. This time, I will complete all that I was meant to do.

No matter what.

A huge thank you to every person who read/followed/favorited/reviewed this story - especially the reviews concerning my question about the sequel. I had so many people assuring me they would read it along with leaving very kind words concerning this work. I thank you all so much.

That being said, a sequel will be made! :)

I hope that you enjoyed The Sorcerer's Stone. It has been the hardest fanfiction I have ever written (what with trying to keep everything within canon from start to finish) but I feel it has all been worth it. Please leave one last review, telling me what you thought of the ending. I'd love for this story to get over 100 reviews. Until the next installment, happy reading my fellow Merlin/Harry Potter fans! -Pumpkinmoose22