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Merlin - Chapter 06: Greetings
🕑 Added 2025-11-28 10:17:42 +0000 UTCDisclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
“Dialogue”
‘Thoughts’
-Author notes-
Chapter 06: Greetings
Harry found himself on a battlefield.
The Warriors of Camelot were clashing against Saxon barbarians. Blood, dirt, and pieces of armor were flying everywhere.
But his eyes were focused on the woman at the end. She was surrounded by a dozen personal guards, all clad in black-plated armor, just like Mordred’s.
‘No… this is not me.’ Harry realized.
His dreams were becoming so vivid that he was now having a hard time distinguishing them from reality.
He had to remind himself that he was Harry Potter, and that a moment ago, he was at his house on Privet Drive, number 4.
His uncle was there, and… he was dying.
Then there was a flash of light and intense heat.
‘Ignis Draconis.’ The words repeated in his mind.
“Ignis Draconis!” Merlin raised his staff and aimed it at the troops.
A mighty ball of fire manifested out of thin air and struck the ground in the middle of the group of men, sending several flying away, bodies engulfed in flames.
One of the black knights got close enough to stab his horse, piercing its armor and killing the creature on the spot.
“Virtus Draconis!” Merlin called upon the power of dragons to enhance his mortal body.
He felt a rush of strength filling him, allowing him to leap from his mount with inhuman speed and power, landing a short distance from the remaining knights.
“Roots of the earth, limbs of the wood, rise and grasp as I know you should.” Merlin chanted as his staff hit the ground. “Tredecim Hastae!”
Spears made of wood erupted from beneath the black knights, impaling them and lifting their bodies upwards.
With only two targets left, Merlin chanted again. “Sever my foe in twain… Diffindus!” He made a cutting motion with his staff and, before the men could react, their heads separated from their bodies.
The nearby enemy barbarians saw what Merlin had done to the elite knights and stepped back, clearly afraid of what this man could do.
Morgan let out a loud chuckle, not even slightly bothered by the deaths of her protectors. “Your magic is still sharp as always, Merlin.”
“Morgan!” Merlin clenched his teeth. “And I have just the spell for you.”
“Is that so?” She arched a brow. The black staff in her hand was lowered and touched the dirt at her feet.
“Bones of the earth, at my behest, rise from your rest and stand the test!”
The two decapitated knights twitched, then rose to their feet, still gripping their weapons firmly, even without heads.
Merlin frowned, realization striking him. “Necromancy? And I thought you would not sink low enough to rely on dark spells. I am disappointed, Morgan.”
“I care not for your approval any longer, Merlin!” She snapped. “I came here to right a wrong, and I am not leaving without accomplishing my task.”
Morgan scoffed, gesturing sharply. The two death knights attacked.
“For all your talents and knowledge, Merlin… you are sometimes so naïve.”
Merlin conjured wings of swirling wind at his staff’s tip. “Aeolios! Carry them away!” A violent gust blasted the undead far from the battlefield.
He pivoted to the witch, fury burning in his eyes. “What good reason could you possibly have for this chaos?”
Morgan scoffed, gaze ice-cold. “You would do well to watch your back when near that man.” She hurled a brilliant fireball his way.
White light consumed his vision completely.
“Ahhh!” Harry woke up screaming.
“Urgh!” A sharp pain flared through his senses, forcing him back onto the bed.
He opened his eyes, fighting for orientation. “Where am I?” His voice cracked, mouth bone-dry.
This was not his bedroom and not his house.
White walls, white floors. A black television hanging on one wall contrasted with the sterile brightness of the white furniture.
And so did the red door he could see from his bed.
“What is this?” Harry murmured, pulse racing.
Before he could speculate further, the red door opened and a man stepped inside.
It was an old wizard with a long white beard, dressed in a bizarre yellow tunic. He adjusted his glasses, blue eyes glinting behind them.
The wizard observed him with a serene smile. “Greetings, Mister Potter. My name is Albus Dumbledore.”
Comments
terrance smith
Under no circumstances should harry trust albud dumbles
