"Harry! Harry, let's go!"

Harry looked up at the shout from outside and grinned. He shoved his last rasher in his mouth and grabbed his buttered bread before hurrying out the front door, finding Cyrus waiting.

Cyrus Hurst was a village boy Harry's age and the son of Hogwarts' Herbology professor, Elric Hurst. He was similar to Harry in height and build, both thin with subtle muscle, Harry's from a life of forced labour with the Dursleys and Cyrus' apparently from a life of strenuous gardening with his father. Cyrus was more sun kissed than Harry, getting far more time outside. His oval face was framed with long, chopped, honey blonde hair, fluffy bangs parted on his forehead and tucked behind his ears over the long sections that hung down the sides of his face. The rest was pulled into a ponytail that sat on his neck. His sea green eyes were slightly square in shape and he had thin, pink lips.

He had met Cyrus-and a few others-a week earlier when he'd been, once again, watching the village kids while wishing he was one of them. Severus had convinced him to try and make friends, reminding him no one knew who he was in Camelot the way they did back in their time. He'd resisted only for the man to all but physically drag him to the kids; there had been a relatively insistent and aggressive shove though. He'd joined the village kids, quite awkwardly, but, after a few ‘you're the time kid, yeah?' comments, he'd been pulled right in. He and Cyrus had been particularly drawn to each other, Cyrus' kind boisterousness acting like a flame for Harry's quiet moth. He didn't know what it was that caused him to become friends with people so much different than him, but he found he really liked Cyrus. Not to mention they would be dormmates come their return to Hogwarts in just under a week.

"Come on, we're gonna be late," Cyrus told him impatiently.

"Harry?"

Harry turned at the voice stopping him before he and Cyrus could take off. Griffin had come down the side of the cottage while Galen was still at the paddock, brushing Aspen, though he was looking towards them.

"Does Severus know where you're going?" Griffin asked, brushing his hands together to remove an accumulation of dirt.

"I'll tell him on the way, promise," Harry replied quickly. "We have to go. Bye!"

He and Cyrus dashed away before Griffin could say anything else. They ran down the road, skidding around corners, and past the goldsmith and mason into the village square. They weaved through villagers, laughing as Breone, the village's English Spaniel, bounded after them, barking her clueless excitement. They were about to head up the north road between the apothecary and the weapon maker when Harry found an arm shooting out and a hand wrapping gently, but firmly around his upper arm, pulling him to a stop. He turned to Severus who had clearly just exited the apothecary with Adeline who was standing behind him.

"Oh, come on, were going to miss it," Harry said with a bit of a whine.

An arched eyebrow at the uncharacteristic attitude was the immediate response he received.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Severus asked, glancing at Cyrus who was a few steps ahead up the road, waiting anxiously.

"The field," Harry told him. "Guinevere and Godric are finally going to duel today like they promised."

"You remember we have a commitment this afternoon?" Severus gave him a pointed look.

"Yeah, I know, Tintagel Castle," Harry said shortly. "Can we go now?"

"You know where to meet, yes?"

"Here in the square." Harry nodded. "Please, can we go?"

Severus gave him an exasperated smile while Adeline chuckled lightly behind the man. Severus ran his fingers through Harry's hair in a new, unexpected, but becoming common form of affection. "Go, brat. Do not be late later."

"I won't!" Harry called as he caught up to Cyrus and they continued running, taking the first left rather than continuing up towards the post tower.

"You're going to see Merlin?" Cyrus asked and Harry nodded. "Wicked!"

Harry laughed and they soon reached the huge field on the riverbank at the bottom of the waterfall. Nearly every child from the village was there, circled around Guinevere and Godric who had, thankfully, not begun their duel yet. They hurried over, finding Gillian Brewster and David de Erley, another two Harry had found becoming his friends.

Around the same time he'd starting meeting the village kids, he'd also gone around learning wandless magic to be ready for Hogwarts. He'd joined the duelling sessions held by Guinevere and Godric, had worked with Salazar and Helga, and had even gotten a few introductory lessons on swords and archery from Erec and Felix, and done a small duel with Artemus. Salazar had been right and wandless magic was extraordinarily natural to use, allowing him to catch up quickly.

"Do they do this often?" Harry asked, gesturing to Guinevere and Godric who were talking to each other quietly.

"Not at all," Gillian replied, shaking her head. "We beg, but Guinevere isn't usually here this much so they don't usually have the time."

"Where is she normally?" Harry wondered.

"Either Winchester or Tintagel Castle," Gillian told him. "She and Arthur are still apprenticing with Merlin, after all."

Harry nodded and looked back at the two duelling masters of Camelot as they moved away from each other. The conversations settled down even as everyone continued vibrating with excitement. A shimmering blue dome appeared around Guinevere and Godric, separating them from their young audience, before becoming invisible aside from the occasional shimmery ripple across the barrier's surface. When the two bowed to each other, Harry was first reminded of the pitiful duelling club in second year and Severus and Lockhart which made him grin, but then remembered the graveyard and Voldemort forcing him to bow before torturing him. He winced at the memory and shifted uncomfortably, pushing the memories aside to focus on the duel about to happen.

And happen it did and it was spectacular to watch. Harry understood the need for the barrier almost immediately. Magic moved differently in this world. It was often wide and flowing and encompassing rather than the linear nature he was used to with wands. As such, dodged, deflected, and missed magic exploded away from the duellers and crashed into the barrier, causing rapid, glittering ripples to tear across the dome. With every hit of magic against the barrier, the young audience gasped with shock and awe. Guinevere and Godric never slowed or faltered, their duel far more like a dance as they moved and circled their self-imposed arena. No words were spoken; incantations were rare, Harry had learned. They both moved smoothly, confidently, hands flying through the air as they cast spell after spell-intention after intention-in such quick succession that the arena was filled with colourful, glittery magic and its results. Magic didn't dissipate in the same way Harry was used to; here, however magic was used remained until its purpose naturally ended or was ended by one of the two duellers.

It was the most impressive and remarkable thing he'd ever witnessed. He'd seen Severus fight and, once the distraction of fighting for his own life had passed, he'd been impressed at the man's skill and power. Guinevere and Godric, however, were something else altogether, a whole other level Harry hadn't even known could exist. He could feel the way the natural magic of the world reacted and responded to being used. It moved swiftly and washed over them in waves from the sheer power being expelled by Guinevere and Godric. It electrified the air around them, touching each of them as though wondering if anyone else would begin to utilize the available power and magic. The magic wanted to be used which is what Harry found made it so easy to use, even without a wand.

The duel lasted for nearly an hour, with neither Guinevere or Godric showing any signs of exhaustion. Harry could see why they were considered Camelot's duelling masters. They both seemed to have innate instincts about responses and their opponent and the magic that continued to affect them and exist around them. They had reactions ready before Harry could even recognize the coming attack. They saw things in each other Harry didn't, little tells and acts that told them what was coming.

When it finally ended, there was no clear winner. Both were ruffled, both were injured, both were breathing hard. They bowed to each other with smiles as the village kids erupted into cheers and applause.

"I expect to see new members in the Duelling Club come October!" Godric said, making everyone laugh.

After another twenty minutes of excited conversation, Guinevere and Godric finally dispersed the crowd. Harry was still talking with Cyrus, Gillian, and David when the two adults approached, all healed and put together as though nothing had happened. The only indication that an intense battle had happened was the slight charge that still remained in the atmosphere.

"I believe we have a trip to take," Godric said and Harry nodded.

"Come on, we'll find the others," Guinevere told him.

Harry bid ‘goodbye' to his friends and followed the two back down to the village square. The wagon and horses were already waiting with Arthur, Salazar, Severus, and Rowena. Tintagel Castle-Merlin's home-was far to the north and heavily protected, preventing anyone from getting inside without knowing how. Harry had learned Portkeys were not yet a form of transportation-he was not complaining much to Severus' amusement despite understanding Harry's aversion-and Apparation wasn't possible, both because of the distance and Severus not knowing Camelot. There was a portal they were to use instead that would get them to just outside Merlin's wards, wards only Arthur and Guinevere could get through.

Harry hurried over to Severus who turned from his conversation with Arthur. "See? Told you I wouldn't be late," he said cheekily, dodging the swat aimed at his head with a laugh.

"Brat," Severus grumbled half-heartedly. "How was the big event?"

"Bloody brilliant!" Harry gushed and launched into a fast, rambling description of the duel, hardly registering the fond amusement that crossed Severus' face and the looks he shared with the others. He didn't know how long Severus allowed him to go on, but eventually the man held up a hand and he came to a quick stop, blinking owlishly.

"I am glad you enjoyed yourself and I am sure they appreciate your enthusiastic praise, but it is time to go," Severus told him.

Harry flushed, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"No apologies, child," Severus said with a smile and put a hand on his back. "Into the wagon now."

Harry climbed up, settling at the front behind where Arthur and Guinevere were sat. He was joined by the others, Severus next to him and Godric, Salazar, and Rowena settling around the rest of the space.

The trip wasn't long, only about a half hour to the north. They had come to a stop amongst rounded, soft, sloping green hills, their path disappearing into them in the distance. They had left the path, crossing the open land to a large rock outcrop emerging on a nearby slope. As they got close, Harry felt a brush of magic and looked at the others curiously.

"Concealment Charms," Arthur explained. "To hide the wagon as it would be suspicious to leave it on the road."

Understanding, Harry disembarked with everyone else. He followed as they were led to the rocky formation and watched as Guinevere pressed her palm to the white and grey stone. He didn't see anything happen, but his eyes widened as she stepped though, disappearing into the seemingly solid stone. He couldn't help but gape as Salazar and Rowena followed despite it being just like Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King's Cross.

When he was ushered forward to do the same, he took a moment to hesitantly touch the curious rock. His hand sunk into the stone, making him stare in fascination until he received a gentle push from Severus and he walked through. Just like with Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, it didn't feel like anything except a light rush of warm magic and then he was on the other side where he found himself in a large underground chamber.

He gazed around the space in awe. It was a tall, domed cave made entirely of some ultramarine-coloured stone with ribbons of pure moonstone and what Harry was certain were pockets of sparkling diamonds. In the very center where Guinevere was were four round stones arranged in a circle around another stone panel with some kind of design carved into its surface. Intrigued, he approached as the others passed through the stone behind him, Arthur joining Guinevere in the center while the others waited off to the side, conversing quietly. He examined the stones curiously.

He didn't recognize the symbols made of moonstone on the stone plates. They were all different, but still in the same rounded, swirling style. He thought they looked similar to Celtic symbols, but they weren't quite the same. On the center panel, however, he did recognize the design, though he'd never seen this particular creature used. It was an ouroboros, but, instead of a snake, it was a dragon consuming its own tail.

His examination was interrupted by the symbols beginning to glow brightly and he watched glittery threads leave each, reaching up into the air and tangling together. Within the magic, he could see something materializing and, when the flowing magic finally disappeared, it left behind an amazing archway with a silvery film filling its opening. The archway seemed to be made of twisted vines and branches, a leg emerging from each of the four stones and coming together at the top in a complex braid. The silvery film that filled the center spaced encompassed the ouroboros panel and created a curtain impression between the arch legs. It reminded Harry of the strange veil in the Department of Mysteries through which Sirius had almost fallen, but without the whispery, unintelligible voices.

"Come along," Guinevere told them with a smile and proceeded to walk into the archway with Arthur, the silvery film fluttering as they disappeared.

Harry blinked owlishly only to be guided forward by Severus. Walking through the archway, Harry felt more than passing through the stone. This time, it was truly like walking through the lightest curtain, feeling the way it whispered across his skin. The sensation lasted only a few seconds as they were through the portal almost immediately.

Stepping out ended the fluttery feel of magic to be replaced by a cool, damp, coastal air. Harry gazed around, finding a far-off forest at the edge of the huge open land. Turning, he found they were right on the coastline, the land turning to rock and sloping down steeply. Turning a little more, he laid eyes on Tintagel Castle. To him, it seemed less like a castle and more like a military fortification. Made of grey and white stone, it had the towers of a castle and the ramparts, but it was mostly long, tall walls that concealed whatever lay inside. By the lack of anything, Harry had to assume it was mostly open space beyond the walls.

"In order to enter, Merlin's magic must recognize safety and purity in you," Arthur told them. 

"The path there is unwarded," Guinevere warned. "It wouldn't do to have just anyone use the portal and get inside the castle."

Harry just looked at the open land they had to cross to get to the bridge that crossed the river that surrounded the castle, falling over the cliffside. It appeared to be a couple kilometers' walk.

"Morgan as never returned here since Merlin sent her out after her one attack attempt," Arthur assured and Harry looked at Severus, seeing the light shadow of concern in the man's face. "We have never been threatened here."

Harry didn't get to see or hear a response as he was surrounded by the strangest feeling. He was chilled and everything grew dark despite it being midday, and it felt like something slick had wrapped around him. There was the oddest pull and then it all fell away, leaving him a small distance from the others.

"My, my, look what you found."

Harry's eyes widened and he spun around at the voice.

"Morgan!" he heard Arthur yell.

Morgan was both enthrallingly intimidating and beautiful. She was tall and slender with sharp yet gorgeous features. Her hair was long and black, flowing down to her waist. It complemented her pale complexion, ruby red lips, and brilliant emerald green eyes. Everything about her was completely opposite to Arthur except their beauty which they shared.

She wore a long, fitted dress in a deep wine red. It was a corset top, sitting low on her chest in a sweetheart neckline. The sleeves were off-shoulder and tight to her wrists with a light, translucent, shimmery material attached at the elbows, draping down to the ground dramatically and elegantly. The front of the corset was laced in a crisscross pattern down the center, a wide band wrapping around her body just under her bust. The skirt of the dress flowed to the ground, spreading across the grass.

A thin headband wrapped around the crown of her head, strings with sparkling gems hanging down into her dark hair, making their colours stand out: emeralds, rubies, deep sapphires, deep purple amethyst. A shining, delicate silver chain was wrapped around her neck a couple of times and hung low on her chest, its black pendant just in view. It was a simple design, looking like an extremely simplified outline of a human head and shoulders, or like the top of a keyhole.

Harry stopped examining her and met her eyes, so much like his, as she gazed intently at him.

"What a fascinating little thing you are." Morgan's voice was honeyed, but threatening at the same time, keeping Harry tense as he remained in her vicinity.

"You were never to return here," Arthur called from behind.

"I couldn't possibly miss the opportunity to meet Camelot's newest visitors." Morgan's eyes flickered over Harry to Severus, he assumed, and Harry frowned. How had she known they were in Camelot?

"Did you believe I wouldn't know what you'd discovered?" Morgan said, straightening and turning Harry around so he was facing Severus and the others once again. He could see the worry in the professor's face and the anger in everyone else's. Severus had clearly started to come for him, but was stopped, evident by Rowena's hand on his arm. "Did you believe I wouldn't know about them, that you had found other Masters? So naïve, dear brother."

Harry saw Arthur's jaw clench.

"They are nothing to you," Guinevere replied.

"Not yet, but they will be, especially this one."

Harry had to fight not to flinch or pull away when Morgan stroked a long fingernail down his cheek and hooked it under his chin, making him turn his head to look at her again.

"Yes, there is something wonderfully special in you, isn't there?" she murmured, sounding fascinated by something as her eyes flicked between him and Severus. "So much like me. You know the loving touch of the Dark, both of you. How deliciously wonderful."

"Morgan."

Harry whipped his head around when Morgan's hand fell away from him at the new voice and his eyes popped open at the sight of Merlin.

"Leave here," Merlin ordered. "You will not threaten any children of mine, not in this place."

"Don't you remember, Master?" Morgan sneered. "I once was one of your children."

"You turned your back on us."

"You turned your back on me!" Morgan snapped.

Harry stared at Merlin, his heart pounding at Morgan's anger and the way the air thickened around them. 

"Leave," Merlin said simply. "You are not welcome."

There was a long silence.

"As you wish."

When a finger hooked under his chin again and turned his head, he jumped and met Morgan's eyes fearfully.

"Until we meet again, darlings," she said, her voice taking on a low, smoky tone.

Harry watched as she turned and walked away, a black mist encompassing her as she did until she disappeared. He stared at where she had disappeared, taut with the tension she'd caused within him. He flinched when a hand landed on his shoulder, but relaxed when he found it was Severus, he and the others having hurried over to him upon Morgan's exit. He let out a deep breath and allowed himself to lean into Severus' side, the man's arm coming around him.

"I do so apologize."

Harry lifted his head from Severus' chest to look at Merlin, the wizard having approached them. Merlin greatly resembled Dumbledore with the white hair, long white beard, and sharp blue eyes. Merlin was shorter, however, and his face was sterner. Where Dumbledore tended to emulate a kind, elderly grandfather-whether the persona was truthful or not-Merlin had a strength and sternness in how he held himself. Yet, there was a kindness underneath, hardly detectable, but Harry could see it, could feel it. Merlin had a morality Harry didn't see in Dumbledore, but he did see it in one other person...

He glanced up at Severus, but quickly returned his attention to Merlin when the mage-he'd have to find out what the distinction was-spoke again.

"Do come with me. We have some Soul Magic to tackle, yes?" Merlin gave them all a twinkling look, eyes landing on Harry as he smiled. "What great luck that Soul Magic is my personal specialty. Come, come."

A little taken aback by the sudden youthfulness, Harry followed all the others, still held to Severus' side, into Tintagel Castle.