Merlin Big Bang: Academy (Part Five)
~.~.~
How do you know when you’re in love?
No one ever really answered that question, did they? They always answered with a very vague, “You just know,” all the while looking at their significant other with a small smile. But he wanted to know. How did you know? Was there a certain point in your life when you just had to be in love because that was just people did? Was there a feeling in your heart you felt when you fell in love? Was there a kind of fondness you felt with no one else?
Lance just wanted to know.
Because he feared the possibility he was in love already.
It wasn’t like he woke up and suddenly felt all of these feelings in the pit of his stomach, no; it was like he was waking up slowly. Gradually, from his slumber of ignorance if one could call it that, his stomach had become host to a bunch of fluttering beings he couldn’t control. And, after a while, he noticed a pattern.
These dastard things only emerged when he saw a certain someone. Maybe not immediately, maybe not until that certain someone did something worthy enough of the fluttering. But, regardless, it was only there for that one person.
The worst thing was that Gwen didn’t even know.
Well, it wasn’t entirely her fault. It wasn’t as if he’d told her he was having feelings and dropped little hints that it was for her. He was cool, calm and collected, so much so that he didn’t even know for a while. It wasn’t like he was going to climb up the Astronomy tower and shout to the entire Academy that he was in love. No, of course not (not that he hadn’t thought about it).
And, now, looking at her, with her legs crossed in the common room, eyes focused on a book like they always were, he decided he didn’t really want her to know, not yet.
He was going to tell her slowly and steadily and make sure it wasn’t going to be met with blank stares and a worried tone of voice. He was going to sit her down or maybe walk her down one of the Academy’s many corridors and bring it up nonchalantly. Either way, he was going to have a plan for this.
He was a Marauder, after all, and Marauders always had plans, even if they backfired in the end.
Merlin wanted to say that in the few months he had before the school year ended, he’d found himself falling for Percival and he could be with him and everything would be alright, even if his destiny was getting in the way of everything he knew. But he didn’t.
In the months that they had together, Percy took it upon himself to simply forget what happened and they became what they were to each other before Percy ever looked at him: just acquaintances. Maybe it was to balance everything out: he gained himself to lose a friend.
He hated the way Percy looked at him or, more accurately, didn’t look at him. He’d lost him and it hurt.
Merlin tried not to let that bug him too much. Like he did last year, he tried to be happy in the company of his other friends who knew but pried no more than the simple question of, “You sure?” and buried him in his work because it was OWLs year, after all, and he needed to get great results, just so he could secure a future. He couldn’t rely on his name for this, like Arthur could, because he had nothing on that front. No one would hire a Muggle-born unless they were exceptional.
Tregor had labelled him as a favourite in her class, along with Gwen, with whom he was glad to share the title with. She, true to her word, had kept his secret unless he wanted it told.
Merlin wasn’t ashamed of his sexuality, of course he wasn’t, this was who he was and it took a lot of him to get here in the first place but he just worried whether that confidence was something to be scared of. If he would get beat up by ignorance just for accepting his hardships or would get pressed up against the brick wall and spat at just because he wasn’t like the others.
He wasn’t ashamed, no, but he needed to be alive to come through on his destiny.
There were a few groups of bullies in the school. Merlin wasn’t quite sure if Arthur and his crew constituted as bullies though he was pretty sure Arthur and Morgana cast hexes on people they didn’t like (Merlin had no idea if they did the same with Freya - if they ever did, she was really good at hiding it) but he did know that there was a group of thug-looking guys who walked like they ran the school when, in fact, they were just assembled by fourth years and their juniors.
Sure, Arthur and his friends could walk like that, but only because there was some part of them that did run the school. Everyone looked up at them, admired or feared them, and thought them decent people. But these kids, they were just a bunch of wannabees. It was suiting since one of them was Elyan, Lance’s brother.
Though, you wouldn’t know that they were brothers if it wasn’t for the actual confirmation from both of them. Sure, they shared the same last name and they shared some of the same features but they barely looked at each other. Elyan would pay no attention whatsoever to his big brother while Lance, Merlin noticed, still looked at him with a sort of longing.
Merlin felt sad for them. If there was anything he knew, he knew how it felt to lose someone without actually losing them.
“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Just when he was thinking about him, Elyan and his rugged group of friends came around. Parents always taught their kids to say “please”, “thank you” and “excuse me,” but this one was condescending, meant to look down on others.
“What?” Merlin turned, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.
“You’re in my way,” Elyan said. He just wanted to slap the smirk right off his face but he couldn’t, so he thought of his second best option and brought on the smite.
“Yeah? Well, who’s to say you’re not in my way?” Merlin asked.
“You think you’re pretty tough, do you?” Elyan laughed cruelly.
“I don’t have be tough to stand up to you, little brat. But, out of respect for your brother, I’ll hold myself.” Merlin didn’t catch his words before they started flying out of his mouth. And Lance, who was right here watching with Arthur, looked genuinely shocked.
“Well, fuck you,” the boy -because that was all he really was, a boy- gave his best menacing stare. Merlin knew that he could crush this boy with the lift of his finger; he didn’t even have to reach into his pocket to withdraw his wand. But he couldn’t. No matter how annoying little boys were, he wasn’t going to really hurt them.
“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Merlin inched closer, so close that if he were to lay a hand on him he’d break.
“Don’t you dare talk about my family, you fuck.” Elyan, apparently, didn’t share the same set of values and was starting towards his pocket, ready to draw.
It was then that someone started to intervene. Others watched in silence, probably wishing they had popcorn to munch on as they saw the drama unfolding before them. The one person that had the sense to come between Merlin and Elyan was Percy, whose big arms blocked Elyan from taking another step forward.
“Stop it,” he said. “You don’t wanna do anything stupid.”
“Who’s this, then?” Elyan sized Percy up. “Your boyfriend?”
For a moment, Percy and Merlin looked at each other with a kind of sadness and Merlin muttered, “I wish.”
“Oh, well this is rich!” Elyan exclaimed and climbed out of Percy’s grasp. He widened his arms like he was announcing big news. “That’s it, ain’t it? You’re a fag, Emrys, a big, sullen faggot that can’t get his shit together.”
“So what if I am?!” Merlin yelled.
He looked at Percy and silently said with his eyes that he had to do this. He’d been struggling about this for months and now was the time to finally tell the world who he was. It was probably not the right situation, but it was the right time.
The crowd was silent and afraid to move, as if one single movement would stop everything. Merlin stepped forward and Percy reluctantly let go of him.
“I’m not ashamed of who I am,” Merlin said as calmly as he could. “I’ve accepted it and I’m not gonna let you tear me down after everything I’ve been through. So shut up, alright?”
A moment there, Merlin almost thought he saw Elyan’s face soften, but, no, because the next thing he knew, he was trapped in a flurry of movements and he ended up on the floor with a bleeding nose.
“Come on, you big oaf,” Percy wrapped an arm around Merlin’s waist and helped him up.
They exited the corridor and entered the courtyard outside. Percy seated him on one of the benches before producing a few tissues from his messenger bag. “Here,” he said, “wipe your nose.”
“That was stupid, wasn’t it?” Merlin asked him.
“A bit, yeah, but brave, too,” Percy laughed. “It’s always one or the other with you, isn’t it?”
Merlin laughed for a while at the honesty then put down his hand from his nose to say bluntly, “Thank you, though. To be honest, I thought you’d forgotten about me, and everything we went through.”
“I could never forget you, Merlin, no matter how hard I try. I just didn’t want to hurt anymore but, guess what? Losing you as a friend hurt even more.” Percy patted his shoulder. It was awkward, but Merlin understood; any closer and it’d be even more awkward.
“So, friends?” Merlin reached out his hand.
“Friends,” Percy nodded happily as he took it.
“Hey, Emrys!” someone called out. Both of the boys turned to see Arthur and Lance running towards them. Percy, without even announcing, got up to leave with a hint that they’d see each other later anyway.
Merlin got up and faced both of them and asked, “What?”
“That was some kind of drama you pulled there with my baby brother,” Lance smirked.
“Yeah, sorry about that, he just got my nerves,” Merlin answered, trying to be nonchalant about the fact that he just outed himself in front of a great population of the school.
“No problem about that, he gets on my nerves, as well. More than you can possibly know. Just,” Lance seemed to be having a hard time saying this, “I admire you, is all. And thanks, I guess, for respecting me. Good, too, ‘cos I wouldn’t want to send my brother back to my parents in a body bag. Things between us are hard enough as is.”
“You’re welcome. I didn’t do anything, except for, you know, come out.” Merlin scratched his head awkwardly. Because, really, what was more awkward than coming out in front of the guy that made you question your sexuality in the first place?
“Yeah, about that, listen,” Arthur was surprisingly the one that came forward. “If anyone gives you any crap about that, just call us, alright? I mean, we’re not friends obviously but neither do I want to see your body mutilated in the hallways. It’d be too messy.”
“I doubt it’s anything I can’t handle,” Merlin shrugged off his concerns. “But, thanks, I’ll hold you to that.”
Arthur and Merlin stared at each other for a bit, like they couldn’t quite believe what the other was doing. For one boy, he’d just revealed his sexuality to the entire school in a brave-yet-stupid attempt to silence an annoying third-year. For another, he was actually accepting it. Not only that, he was offering help.
Then Arthur looked away, suddenly becoming pre-occupied with watching his hands instead.
Lance stood awkwardly between them then broke the silence by saying, “Well! See you, then, mate,” and wheeled Arthur away from him.
Merlin thought he could see that Freya felt bad for not being there for him when he came out -albeit violently, but came out regardless- but clearly he was wrong. She couldn’t not have heard about it because the whole school practically knew. Some of them called him names, but he could handle those and others, the more cowardly, left little notes in his books so he could open them and see the word “fag” and other variations thereof between the pages of his History of Magic book.
He didn’t mind them. If they didn’t dare to actually approach him with whatever they had, or thought they had, then they weren’t the kind of bullies he even wanted to stand up to.
Regardless, Freya knew about it but paid him no real attention. No, she did as she used to and then began abandoning him, once again, for the comfort of her Slytherin friends. He didn’t like them one bit, Morgause and Cenred; they looked at him like he was something they could throw away in the flick of a finger. They had those spoilt kids faces, which he didn’t doubt they were, with parents in the Ministry and all.
This wasn’t like last year, where she’d always come back to him at the end of the day and told him everything she wanted him to know, even crap a bit about her Slytherin mates. No, this was different.
Sometimes Merlin didn’t see her for days on end and whenever they talked, she was cold and distant. Whenever Merlin made a biting joke about the Slytherins, she put on her best deathly glare and simply said, “You don’t know anything about them,” before shaking it off and faking her smile.
Today, after Potions, she didn’t even say goodbye to him after class she just went her way. Freya was sinking really low and he didn’t know what to do about it. He needed to fix her.
“You alright there, Merlin?” Percy asked.
Well, if anything, he was glad that this incident brought back a good friend. Merlin looked up to him and shrugged. “I dunno. I’m fine and all but have you noticed how Freya’s been acting?”
“You mean her disappearing act? Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Percy nodded. “You wanna talk about it?”
“It’s not bad that she’s talking to other people, right? Other than me? It’s good, in fact. But I dunno, they just look like bad news. Their families are pure-blooded goons and you know what that means. Once they’re out of here, they’re gonna be fighting on the wrong side just because their blood makes it so,” Merlin said as he walked to his next class. “I don’t want Freya to end up like that.”
“She’s not pureblood,” Percy noted.
“Exactly. She’ll just be their punching bag. Trust me, they’re bad news.”
“Maybe you should tell her? I mean, you are her best friend and everything. I’m sure she’ll listen to you.”
“I would but it doesn’t seem like she has any time for me anymore. And she won’t listen to me. She looks up to them; they’re like gods to her. I dunno, am I just overreacting? Maybe they’re not so bad. I mean, I shouldn’t judge them by who their parents are, yeah?” Merlin shrugged.
“Or by their little mischievous faces that I just want to sock in,” Percy said, laughing a bit, which triggered a small smile from Merlin.
“But, anyways, I’m here,” Merlin said, indicating to the classroom Ancient Runes was being held. “Thanks for this. I’m glad to have you back.”
“Glad to be back. I’ll try not to kiss you this time, yeah?” Percy said then waved off, as if that was just a normal thing to say.
It was dark and dusty. Dark wasn’t the problem, they had their torches and wands to light the way, but the dust was getting in the way of, well, breathing. Every turn they took, he breathed in a new intake of debris and god knows what else was hidden in the cracks of his place.
But, he guessed, the dinginess of the place was exactly what they wanted in a secret entrance. If it was a welcoming place, then it wouldn’t be so secret, thus not earning it a spot in the Marauders’ Map.
The map was a thing of beauty. After months of researching all the corridors and hallways of the Academy; they managed to spell a bit of brown paper to make it look like a map but also they incorporated a tracking system. See, the map tracked the footsteps of a person so they’d appear on the map. It was quite ingenious, actually, so Lance had to give props to the girls for being their standard brilliant.
Arthur and Morgana were finishing up their work in the common room which left just the two of them in this small space, sharing breaths. It could almost be the place where he could confess his feelings for her but he was far too busy swatting away spiders from their hair.
There was a wooden door at the end of the corridor, the dark long hallway that seemed to be underground. It almost looked like the door led to some kind of dungeon where the both of them could see the skeletons and the remnants of the people that once where. It felt like the starting of an action-adventure flick, where the two main leads would fight every monstrous thing that was kept behind the door and slowly find themselves falling in love.
But, alas, this movie was never meant to be as the door turned out to be locked. A lock that could not be opened with their spells, wands or might.
“Well, we gave it a shot,” Lance shrugged. “Come on, now, I feel like dust is growing in my lungs.”
“Impossible,” Gwen shook her head at his comment. “But, alright, then. This is far too nice a day to be cooped up inside. Like, inside inside.”
“Preach, sister,” Lance laughed. He pointed his light to the other side of the corridor, where they would see their exit. He helped her up and out of the hole.
“Let’s sit here for a bit. I’m sure Arthur and Morgana aren’t missing us,” Gwen said, sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall. She looked really pretty in this light, the way the streaks of light hit her face. It was a kind of insignificant yet profound moment -an oxymoron in itself- but Lance wasn’t one to dismiss beauty.
“Well, alright, then. I never would’ve guessed you would want to skip doing homework, though.” He sat down, cross-legged across from her.
“Yes, well,” Gwen shrugged. Pause. “Listen, I don’t mean this in a bad way but your brother’s a jerk.”
“That was putting it in a bad way,” Lance noted and saw Gwen’s face and continued quickly before she could stammer out an apology. “And, yeah, I know. He didn’t always used to be, though. He used to be the sweetest kid. He loved me and he loved our parents as much as he could. And, now, he’s just a ginormous prick.”
“I’m sorry,” Gwen said sadly.
“Sometimes I wish I could just get out of that house and move in with Emmy,” Lance sighed. “And sometimes I wonder why I don’t. Elyan certainly doesn’t need me anymore and my parents can’t stand the sight of me.”
Being in that house was like being in prison. His parents looked at him like he was the reject, the one they just had to keep, at least until Lance proved himself to be guilty, as guilty as Emmy. But what was Emmy guilty of? Falling in love with whom she chose? It was unfair.
And, every Christmas, he gritted his teeth during the family reunion. Seeing Emmy’s sisters Vivian, wrapped around her husband Alvarr, and Morgause, the sullen blonde girl he shared some classes with, along with her trusted ally, Cenred. He wondered how they were even family.
His house wasn’t his house anymore. His room wasn’t his. As long as he lived with his parents, his life wasn’t his.
What difference would it make to them if he acted up and prompted them to throw him out? Nothing whatsoever. They had Elyan, their prize, who’d grown up to be a dick with a pure-blood mentality that shoved around gay kids just for being gay, a through-and-through Slytherin.
“If you ever need to run,” Gwen said, “just know that we’ll be right behind you, alright? I hate seeing you down like this.”
“Me, too,” Lance said, putting his chin on his knees. “Thanks, Gwenny. Marauders, eh? Always and forever.”
Elena was a nice girl, truthful, honest and intelligent, as her house placement would warrant and she wouldn’t have said such a lie to her, right? There would be no reason for it, absolutely no reason to tell Morgana that one of her good friends had been admiring her from afar.
She supposed it wasn’t such a surprise that someone had a crush on her; it had been a more than frequent occurrence, amongst students their year or younger. She had no idea why they favoured her, instead of the other girls, older, smarter, prettier than her, but they did and she was flattered. It was a fact of her life, now, that boys would like her.
But what really surprised her was that someone from her inner circle was part of that group. Leon, sweet Leon, who always helped people up when they went down, kind and gentle Leon who she regarded a close friend but nothing more than that. There could be, if there was a chance, she supposed, but there wasn’t any. Then, she realised, she had never given him any.
She had been at this for a while, which was weird, because there were other things to worry about. Her academics, her friends, the big headlines that were starting to get bigger and bigger in the news (although they were never on the front page; Morgana guessed that the Ministry didn’t want to stir a widespread panic among the people but there was already panic enough). There were more important things to deal with than just wondering what you were going to say to someone as kind as Leon that he needed to stop wanting her because it hurt.
That was a bit selfish, wasn’t it? She wanted this to go away only because it was hurting her. Had he been hurting as well? Waiting for a response for a question he’d never asked for the last three years? Of course he had. Which made her even more selfish for considering the legitimacy of his emotions.
She had to talk to him, that was going to happen, whether she wanted it or not, whether the consequences weren’t those she desired.
Although, she began to wonder what it was that she actually desired.
Morgana tried to be as upbeat as possible, her normal self, when she found him lurking around one of the many staircases of the Academy. His back was leant against the wall, his finger flipping the pages of his book absent-mindedly and he immediately stopped what he was doing when he saw her.
“Morgana!” he said, almost too excited for her taste.
“Hullo, there,” Morgana took a seat on one of the steps across from him.
“Are you alright, then? You look like you’ve got something on your mind,” Leon narrowed his eyes.
“Can I ask you a question? A real one?” Morgana asked nervously.
“Of course, all questions from you are going to be regarded, real ones or not.” He closed his book and pulled his legs close to his chest.
“Do you like me?” Morgana asked. It sounded petty, a question to be asked by a five-year-old in a sunny playground with a juice box in her hand and a myriad of insects about to crawl up her skin with that question. She wanted to take it back, that question, but she had no time to get a Time-Turner and watch time slip away because Leon answered already.
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry,” Leon said, bowing his head and shaking it, as in disbelief that he had been found out.
“It’s nothing to be sorry for,” Morgana tried to put the sentence in the most reassuring way possible but she, for the moment, did not know what her feelings were doing to her.
“What gave me away?”
“Uh, Elena told me about how you felt.”
Now, it was Leon’s turn to say, “Oh.” Only his, it sounded more disappointed, sadder than hers was or ever will be. Perhaps his emotions were running away from him, as well.
“Why?”
“It’s just,” Leon looked up to her, “it’s almost been three years, Morgana. And you find out, not from observing me, but from a mutual friend who doesn’t know what I even really meant? I’m sorry but this meant too much to me and far too little for you.”
“Leon…”
“Because I have watched you go out with every boy that ever came up to you, ones that had more courage than me because they had nothing to lose. I had you to lose.”
Morgana’s throat stopped working, the words she wanted to say couldn’t come out but that was okay. Because she was only going to make things worse. Worse than now, than Leon getting up, packing up his books and standing up.
“Because I started listening to you before you even started talking.”
She only made things worse, she decided, as he left her.
This wasn’t him. This wasn’t Arthur Pendragon.
Whoever this person was who kept thinking these thoughts and kept not saying the things he should be saying and kept doing the things he never really did, it wasn’t him.
The person who wasn’t him kept thinking thoughts about a certain someone. A someone who was snarky and sarcastic and bit back whenever he could. But also someone who was warm and kind, who was gay in both aspects of the word.
Part of him recognized that he had brought it upon himself, what with backing Lance up when he told his brother off and chasing after Merlin. Part of him knew that, if he hadn’t offered up their services, he wouldn’t have this predicament of a dual personality.
One said personality happily existed in his bubble that contained his friends and family with a lingering thought and plaguing image every now and then. And another simply couldn’t exist without Merlin.
Arthur didn’t know why but the latter part of himself kept popping up more often now that Merlin had become something of a pseudo-friend. Merlin acknowledged his presence when he entered a shared classroom, as acquaintances normally, but only talked to him for more than two seconds when he wasn’t in the company of Freya and Arthur wasn’t surrounded by his “followers” as Merlin so kindly put it.
Arthur could’ve guessed why, because Merlin was still wary and Arthur still held an animosity with Freya. She was just a bit…shady. And the fact that she was starting to hang out with one of Lance’s most despised cousins -and, thus, abandoning Merlin- only added more bad blood into their bucket that was already full.
But, regardless, this part of him looked forward to these little snippets of Merlin, so much so that he was starting to aggravate the other part of him -the sane part- by blowing off dates with perfectly attractive girls who were all reasonably willing to let him kiss them and maybe get to second base.
And it began to aggravate him even more when he started having odd thoughts about Merlin.
Like last week, when Arthur’s stupidity managed to accomplish a smile -a genuine one, not one dipped in sarcasm- and Arthur had the gall to think something along the lines of “damn, that’s one beautiful smile.” Or two days ago, when Merlin was sitting at the table in the Hall, reading the newspaper.
Arthur knew what it had said -Gwen always told them every going-on, whether in the world or just in school- something about the family of five who was murdered mysteriously in Surrey. There had been no real mystery about it, for the head of that family was a loud protestor against You-Know-Who but everyone kept their mouth shut. Merlin read it, his lips turning downward in disapproval and his brows furrowed in thought. What’s he thinking about? Arthur thought. And how can I put his mind at ease?
These thoughts were turning dangerous, steering towards romanticism. For Merlin. Not that that ultimately mattered or that he hated himself for it because being gay wasn’t something he could hate or grudge people for. But the problem was he wasn’t gay because he still turned to see the pretty sixth-year girl who rebelliously cut her skirt shorter. And, mainly, because he thought of no other guy the way he thought about Merlin.
The guys that were considered attractive, he felt no attraction to them whatsoever. There was no pool of warmth building up in his guts when they smiled or an unreasonable worry when they did the opposite.
Some days, Arthur just wished he really was gay so that he could blame something on what he was slowly accepting into his heart -that he was beginning to like Merlin.
“There’s something wrong with my friends,” Lance whined to Elena and Gwaine when they settled into Arithmancy one February morning.
As it always was this time of year, the Academy had opted to put everything in shades of pink and red. Usually, he just found it annoying, a pest on his shoulder he could flick off but now that it had been months since he decided he was in love and he wasn’t any closer to any kind of confession, it was downright revolting.
“There’s always something wrong with your friends,” Elena noted.
“Well, yeah, but they’re extra weird nowadays,” Lance said. “Haven’t you noticed?”
“You mean, the way Arthur always seems distracted, or the way Gwen always seems to be busy and Morgana always seems to regret something?” Elena asked. “Yeah, we noticed.”
“And something’s gotten you, as well, mate. You look confused, like there’s always something you wanna say,” Gwaine cocked his head, as if observing his friend, seeing what kind of affliction he caught. Gwaine was never this observant before, but Lance guessed dating a Ravenclaw with Elena’s smarts could make you smart, as well. “I know what it is! It must be a woman!”
“Oh, how exciting!” Elena smiled so wide that Lance was afraid she was about to break into applause. “It’s good you’re having real feelings for someone. All those flings and meaningless dates are bad for you.”
“Shut up, El, you sound like my house elf,” Lance crossed his arms on his table and sighed.
“But it’s true, though, isn’t it? You have feelings for someone?”
“Sadly, yes.”
“Why is it sad?”
“Because love sucks and she’s never gonna like me back because, well, I’m-”
“You.”
“Yes, exactly!” Lance agreed enthusiastically. “And I feel like I’ve given this school tonnes of reasons as to why I am not a steady boyfriend material. But, the thing is, I am. I think I’m a good enough person. And I’m honest but I doubt she can see that. I’m nothing but a lovesick goofball.”
“Oh, dear, he’s in love,” Elena said sadly, petting his hand comfortingly.
“You should just tell her how you feel, make a big gesture of it. It is Valentine’s Day this week. Go crazy!” Gwaine cried out excitedly. “I’m making something for El here, as well. She doesn’t what but, hey, what’s a guy without the element of surprise on his side?”
“Some kind of boyfriend you are,” Elena huffed then smacked him on the arm with her book. But she smiled regardless.
That was another thing he could hate about this time of year. He was surrounded by happy couples, El and Gwaine included, which just taunted about what he was too scared to have. Not that he wasn’t happy for them, because he was; it just brought on a gnawing feeling in his gut.
Sometimes, there was just an instinct in his mind where he thought his friends needed him. It was kind of this indescribable feeling he had in the middle of the night. Maybe after all the time they spent together, he developed a psychic link with all of them.
Most of the time, it was with Arthur, sometimes with Morgana but it always seemed like Gwen needed him more even if their time together and their psychic link was limited. He got out of bed and went downstairs to the common room where it was likely someone would be staying up. It was warm there and, if you fell asleep there, no one would say a word of judgment because they had all been there one way or another.
“Hey, Moons,” Lance greeted her and plopped down on the seat next to her.
“I can’t believe I can’t sleep again. I think something’s wrong with me,” Gwen told him and shuffled closer, putting her head on his shoulder.
“Something’s wrong with all of us, no worries,” Lance wrapped his arm around her shoulder, trying to contain all the feelings that were surfacing from that touch alone.
He hated being in love when there really was no chance of it being reciprocated.
“I don’t get why you guys are so nice to me. I mean, you changed your lives for me, taking on the Animagus form. Why?” Gwen asked, her breath landing on his being.
“Because we’re friends and we love you. End of story,” Lance answered.
This moment was palpable; this moment was probably never going to happen. Gwen was never going to ask for reassurance again because by the near future, she would have gotten it. This was his chance to do something.
Gwen lifted her head sleepily and looked up to him with tired yet expectant eyes. He couldn’t help it so he leaned in and did what he had done to the other girls he’d dated; only not really because this mattered, Gwen mattered. Too much for him to even begin to comprehend.
He kissed her.
There was no fancy way of saying it, it was just a simple act of leaning down and putting his lips to hers, connecting themselves in a nice way. It was really nice.
Until she pulled away, asked, “This was just a kiss between friends, right?” It had been nice until she resumed her sleepiness as if nothing had happened before she went up to sleep properly and broke his heart.
Merlin was beginning to like Arthur’s presence in his life. It sent a kind of glow through him and it was nice to be reminded once in a while that his destiny wasn’t such an arse.
In fact, he was slowly seeing a maturity in Arthur, in all of his friends. He could probably pinpoint Lance’s change to Gwen and their new relationship -news that sent the school a buzz and the girls in distraught- and he could tell that Morgana’s newfound humility came from her confrontation with Leon.
Leon had told Merlin about it, through cracked voice and all. He knew it had been hard for him because he could see the other boy’s heart slowly breaking.
But, the point was, Merlin liked having Arthur around. He was smiling and he was warm and he was kinder to others. He liked this new change but he couldn’t, once again, live a life with only Arthur occupying it. not when his long-lived friendship was crumbling and was in need of salvaging.
So he started avoiding Arthur again, starting dodging his calls and invites to hang out, just so Freya knew that Merlin was still her best friend and it was still them against the world.
Slowly, he started gaining her smiles back, not that he didn’t have them before but, now, they weren’t etched in sadness and false hope. They were genuine and, soon, whenever they had the time to meet up with each other, her happiness was genuine. She wasn’t looking this way and that to find a way out of her conversation with Merlin anymore; her eyes paid him more attention that he’d been given over the last few months.
For a moment, everything worked. For a few uneventful weeks, that was all they were: uneventful, like they used to be. No destiny to worry about, no Arthur, no other friends that would lurk around the edges of their friendship. They were best friends again and they had their afternoons again.
He should’ve known it wouldn’t last. When something was broken already, no one should try to fix it.
Because Freya was still hanging out with Cenred and Morgause and Merlin, despite his avoiding Arthur, still had his destiny. They both still had the things that had been keeping them apart.
“I don’t see why you’re friends with them, Frey. There’s something wrong with that Cenred character,” Merlin said one afternoon as Freya finished up Transfiguration with the rest of the fifth-year Slytherins. “Did you hear about what he tried to do to Gilli?
Gilli was a gentle soul already and for him to be treated like that by Cenred wasn’t any good for any of them.
“That was nothing, just a laugh that’s all,” Freya said. She laughed a little to diffuse the tension but it wasn’t working one bit.
“It was Dark Magic, Frey, and if you find that funny…”
“Stop being such a worry wart, Merlin,” she said, nudging him to elicit a smile. “Besides, what about the things Pendragon does with his friends, huh?”
“What does Art-Pendragon got to do with anything?” asked Merlin.
“They sneak out at night. They always look like they’re up to something. And there’s something off about that Gwen character.”
“Gwen’s not suspicious. She’s a good person.”
“Why are you defending them?” Freya locked eyes with him.
“Why are you so obsessed with them, anyway? They haven’t been on your case for some time. You have no reason to hold a grudge.”
“Except for the fact they made my early years here a living hell,” Freya scoffed. There was a coldness in her eyes and Merlin had to wonder if his best friend was still in there.
“You’re talking as if I wasn’t there defending you,” Merlin looked down. “And besides, at least they don’t use Dark Magic.”
“Merlin, why are you defending them? I don’t get it. They poked fun at you, too. Is it just because Pendragon suddenly starting being nice to you? I bet he has an ulterior motive for that…no, I won’t let you-”
“Let me? Let me-?” Merlin’s blood boiled.
“I didn’t mean- I just don’t want you to be made a fool!” Freya’s eyes weren’t angry anymore, they were apologetic.
“And how exactly would I be made a fool, huh?”
“He fancies you!” Freya yelled, making a few passing people look at them with raised eyebrows. It was like the words had to be yanked from her by force. “That’s why he does me in all the time.”
“That’s ridiculous, Frey,” said Merlin. He shook his head because this couldn’t possibly be true. It was just her idea of how to end a bickering match. “Arthur Pendragon isn’t gay for me. He-”
“Have you seen how he looks at you?” Freya asked insistently, her voice growing louder and louder. “’Cause I have.”
How did he look at him?
“I just -everyone thought- big Quidditch hero…” all Freya was doing now was mumbling, muttering under her breath.
“Arthur Pendragon’s an arrogant prat,” Merlin said because there was still a part of him that believed that. “I don’t need you to tell me that. But what Morgause and Cenred do isn’t teasing and poking fun, Frey, they’re evil.”
Freya searched him with narrowed eyes. She opened her eyes to say something but nothing came out. She turned on her heels and left. There was a part of Merlin, the part that didn’t believe Arthur was such a prat anymore, that thought it was the best thing to do.
He felt like a petulant child, a glorified six-year-old that threw tantrums in public places because he simply didn’t get what he wanted. The metaphor pretty much fit except that he wasn’t at liberty to throw tantrums about how the boy he liked wasn’t talking to him anymore. For one, his friends didn’t really know that he was pretty much in love and, for another; he still had a reputation to uphold.
He understood; Merlin was salvaging whatever was left of his friendship with Freya, judging from the time they were spending together, like they used to. Freya hated Arthur and Merlin had to prove to her that he was still her friend by showing her he hated him, too.
He didn’t though. Arthur knew he didn’t.
For this reason and this reason alone -that was what everyone really needed, a small reason for a big thought- that all through his exam week, his OWLs, he just leaned down and wrote ‘M.E’ on the tiny scraps of paper he ended up not using. He didn’t draw a heart over them or anything (he was gay for Merlin, not a girl) but he still did it.
He had it bad.
Arthur looked over his shoulder swiftly, long enough to catch Morgana’s eye and wink at her. This exam was easy. Defence against the Dark Arts? They were going to ace this, unlike the Potions paper that he knew he was going to flunk and Professor Aulfric knew it, too.
He looked to his far left and saw Lake still writing furiously on her paper, up until Professor Aglain shouted out, “Time’s up!”
The students quickly shuffled out as their papers were collected magically by Aglain, who gave a smile to the four of them that immediately found each other because he figured them four of the best students he had. He wasn’t boosting their egos, he had actually said that once.
“How do you like question ten, Moony?” Lance asked Gwen, who immediately laughed.
“Three signs of a werewolf? One, she’s sitting in my chair; two, she’s wearing my clothes and three, her name is Guinevere Leodegrance,” Gwen answered.
They all laughed as they left the room. The day was beautiful; it was a shame they had to spend it all inside a hall doing their bloody exams. The wind was breezy and Arthur had the urge to ride his broomstick, take his friends with him and never come back.
“You alright there, Arthur?” Morgana asked him, her quill tapping against her Transfiguration book, the stuff they were supposed to be studying for their next exam that they had in about three more hours.
“Just fine,” Arthur leaned back against the oak tree they were surrounding. “Go on, then, quiz me about Transfiguration, skip the Animagus parts, though.” They all smiled knowing at each other.
It was amazing how no one still knew about their little secret, about how the four of them scampered to the Whomping Willow every month. Gwen told them that Taliesin knew about her lycanthropy and let her join the school nonetheless in a selfless act against discrimination. Maybe that was why they’d never been caught.
Regardless, Taliesin could know about Gwen’s ‘furry little problem’ -an affectionate term they used in public that made others think Gwen had a misbehaving pet of sorts- but there was no way he knew about their Animagi abilities or they would be expelled for sure.
Maybe even sent to Azkaban or something. He couldn’t imagine any of them in that wizarding prison though; not that they weren’t strong enough to handle it, they were and Lance especially could weather any kind of storm, he just figured they’d all have each other’s back enough to cover for them.
“What is the proper procedure for the-” Morgana started but Lance interrupted her by nudging Arthur’s shoulder and saying, “Look who’s here.”
He looked up and saw Freya walking towards a nearby tree with her books in her arms. Her hair was covering her face and she looked a bit timid, not like the fifteen-year-old girl she was.
“Freak Lake,” Arthur said.
He knew he shouldn’t, he was trying to be better for Merlin’s sake but he couldn’t help it. Seeing her like this just brought back old memories of teasing and taunting the girl, before he realized he was gay for her best friend.
“Come on,” Arthur beckoned his friends.
“Arthur-” Gwen said. He knew she was going to reason with him so he shrugged her off with a simple, “Whatever, Moony.”
She followed them anyway, with a sigh, probably deciding that a crime committed without her was worse than with her. Besides, she knew she’d been trying to control their idiocy for years with no such luck.
“Hey, Freak,” Arthur cat-called. “How’d you do on the exam?”
Before she could even open her mouth for retaliation, Arthur whipped his wand and had her books hit the floor. A crowd soon formed around them out of curious students.
“Piss off, Pendragon,” Freya said heatedly.
“Oh yeah?” Arthur asked.
“Stop it!” Arthur hears a familiar voice before he recited the spell.
They all turned around and saw Merlin Emrys striding towards them with his robes billowing behind him and his books on the ground. It was probably a bad time to be thinking that he looked good but there the thought was, wandering around his mind.
“Or what?” Arthur playfully teased.
“What has she ever done to you?” Merlin asked angrily.
“Oh, come on, Emrys, you’re no fun!”
“Arrogant pig,” Merlin steamed. Suddenly, Arthur felt as if their last few months disappeared and all his hard work to get from the bickering pair of boys they were to what he wanted to be vanished. Merlin saw it, too. “Just stop it.”
“I don’t need any help from you,” Freya spat. “You Mudblooded fag!”
The crowd gasped and Arthur’s blood immediately boiled. He barely had time to look back at Merlin, who had turned white as a sheet, and then push Lake up against the tree. He pulled her by the robes, putting them face to face.
“Apologize, Lake! Apologize to Emrys, now!” he yelled at her.
“Save it,” Merlin said. “I don’t want her apology even if she has any.”
He picked up his books surprisingly calmly and left the scene. As soon as Arthur put her down, Freya left, too, running after Merlin.
Arthur just stood there, as the crowd dissolved into whispers of excitement. He couldn’t help but think, as his friends patted him on the back and pulled him back to what they were doing, that whatever that was going to happen next was going to be his fault.
“I’m sorry!” Freya trailed after him.
“I’m not interested,” Merlin slung his backpack over his back, not even turning back and looking at her.
“Merlin, I’m really sorry.”
“Save your sorry breath, Freya.”
Sometimes, when things were really bad, someone could lose hours from not thinking about it. Someone could simply sit in bed, watching the way his toes curled around the sheets and simply lose a day. This was one of those times. Before Merlin knew it, it was almost dinnertime.
But he knew, because he’d been told by Leon, that whatever he’d forgotten was sitting right outside of the Gryffindor room. He came out, wearing his jacket with his arms crossed.
“Merlin!” Freya scrambled to her feet when she saw him.
“I only came out here because Leon told me you were going to sleep here if I didn’t come out,” Merlin said.
“Merlin,” Freya stepped towards him. “I never meant to call you a Mudblood or a fag for that matter. It just-”
“Slipped out?” Merlin couldn’t understand his own voice. He’d never sounded so cold before. “Listen, it’s over between us. I can’t keep making excuses for you, for everyone else, for me especially. And your Death Eater friends, Frey -see you don’t even try to deny it! - You’re gonna get along just fine. You just can’t wait to get out of here and join You-Know-Who.”
Merlin watched her open her mouth, as if something important might spill out, but then close because, right now, nothing was important and substantial enough to save their friendship.
“You’ve chosen your way, Frey, and I’ve chosen mine. Let’s not pretend anymore.”
“No, I can’t -I didn’t mean to call you those things-”
“Why not? You call everyone of my heritage a Mudblood. Why should I be any different? I was stupid to think that I could be.”
Merlin couldn’t look her face anymore because all it contained was all the things he didn’t want to be associated with. When did he stop knowing who Freya was? He turned from her and climbed back through the portrait hole.
All Arthur wanted to do was go home. He wanted to see his family again, get away for a while. Not to say that he didn’t love his days in the Academy or his friends but he felt like he wanted to be on a discourse now.
Luckily, it was the last day of school and he was going to go home soon. But, today, he had unfinished business to settle.
As always, there was a big farewell party given out in the Gryffindor common room, to say goodbye infinitely to the seventh-years who would not to be returning and, instead, going out to venture in the real wizarding world. Arthur was jealous sometimes but that was alright because he was going to go out one day and it was going to be magical.
It was all held in a crowded room, drinking the Butterbeer that had been snuck by a few crafty fifth-years who shall remain unnamed. Everyone was lounging around the couches or standing up because there were no available seats.
Arthur’s eyes searched the room after he left his friends with the pathetic excuse of not wanting to throw up from Lance and Gwen’s romance. But he actually wanted to find someone amidst all the chaos here.
Finally, he found Merlin in one corner of the room, drinking his beer all the while laughing at someone Gwaine had said. Damn, Arthur thought, he looks good when he’s happy.
And that was good because, lately, whenever Arthur turned to look at him, he always looked sad or sombre. A melancholy drifted around him and it never really left him. Arthur didn’t want to seem insensitive so he didn’t ask and he stopped coming around him as often as he did.
He wasn’t going to make a good impression if he was staging into his life all the damn time. He wanted to make Merlin swoon, make Merlin want to be his. So he had to get this right.
“Hey, Emrys,” Arthur came up to him, slow, steady, like the horse he was inside.
“Arthur,” Merlin said politely. Too polite, in fact, and Arthur almost wanted to back out of the operation.
“Can you come with me?” Arthur blurted out, too fast and Gwaine was right there and he looked like he was sizing him up sceptically, between the point of letting Merlin go with him and asking Arthur about his intentions. “I need to talk to you.”
“We have nothing to talk about,” Merlin smiled at Arthur. It wasn’t supposed to be mean, he got that but Arthur couldn’t help but feel the sting and that maybe he was right. They weren’t really friends so what the hell was Arthur doing falling for him?
Then he remembered.
“Just, come on, it won’t take very long. I’ll have you back before the pumpkin disappears,” Arthur bumped his shoulder, trying to diffuse some of the tension he felt in his muscles.
“Alright, then,” Merlin said and gave the one-minute finger to Gwaine. He followed Arthur past the crowd and outside of the common room, out of the Gryffindor dormitories and into the big expanse before the staircases.
They were alone, just as Arthur expected them to be. All the students were either in the bed or too busy in their respective common rooms having a party to come out to the cold. But Arthur wasn’t really busy, except in his mind.
Obviously, as a Pendragon, he should probably have come up with a plan or at least something to go on when he told someone he liked them and didn’t completely hate them and really was, truly, sorry about all he had did to him and his best friend. But, obviously, because he was a Pendragon named Arthur, he didn’t have any plans or any back-up plans, only the cold night and the loneliness that came with it.
“So, what is it that we need to talk about?” Merlin asked.
Right, so, no plan.
“Arthur?”
No plan except this one.
“Arthur, what are you-”
Arthur closed the space between them, bringing his lips to Merlin’s, letting them rest there, letting them feel the warmth of Merlin against them and oh god, it’s good. It’s really good. After a while, Merlin’s still body relaxed and started kissing back. Not with such urgency like normal, randy kisses shared by teenagers like them, but chastely and languidly, as if he was saying something and Arthur was supposed to be paying attention.
Before Arthur could snake his hand up to Merlin’s ruffled hair, the stillness returned. And before he could let Merlin run from him, he gripped his wrist and told him, in soft, hushed tones so he could understand.
“Just know that I completely wanted to that. For a while. Sorry I’m an ass, Emrys, but I’m an ass that likes you and I think you should think about it, think about us.”
PART SIX