Ron didn't mean to hear. Honest! It was more of a wrong time, wrong place situation that led him where he was. With Professor Emrys raising a knowing eyebrow at him and Aithusa's judgemental stare.
"I didn't mean to! Honest!" he repeated, hoping if he said it enough times they would believe him.
"Didn't mean to what, Mr. Weasley?" Emrys asked, somehow raising his brow even higher. Gulping, Ron explained that he was just making his prefect rounds when he heard the professor speaking. He had thought it was a student making trouble in one of the classrooms.
"I crept up to the door and it was you. I was about to turn back but...but Aithusa spoke. I didn't know familiars could speak, you know, I was curious," Ron shrugged his shoulders and gave a sheepish smile, not really sure what to do in the situation he had found himself in.
"And then..." the professor encouraged him to continue.
"And then... then she said your name, but... not your name? Or is it your name? Anyway, I figured the dragon was just using Merlin's name as a curse, you know. But...It didn't make sense, it was just Merlin. Not Merlin's Beard or Merlin's pants, but like she was saying your name," Ron bit his bottom lip as he struggled to explain what he had witnessed. The professor... or Merlin? He still wasn't sure, did not say anything for what felt like forever. It was already late and he could feel himself getting sleepy as he waited for his teacher to say something.
"What do you think is right?" Emrys asked, jolting Ron into alertness once again. Ron licked his lips as he thought of what to say. If his defense professor really was The Great Merlin, then how was he still alive? Why was he alive? Why was he at Hogwarts? But at the same time, his professor being Merlin was ludicrous. Maybe his mother gave him the name, not caring that anyone called Merlin after The Merlin was considered an insult to the Merlin of old. Maybe he changed his name so no one would know.
The trouble was Emrys was expecting an answer and Ron didn't have one. Too many thoughts interrupted one track, crashing into another before he could finish it.
"I...I don't know," Ron admitted, shoulders hanging in defeat. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know what was right. What was wrong. He didn't know why it felt that the name Merlin fit his professor better than Myriddian ever could. Wait...where had that thought come from?
"That's alright, Ron. Come back in a day or so when you feel like you know, alright?" Emrys said, corralling him towards the door as he spoke. Ron nodded mutely, still reeling from the possibility that his professor was not who he thought he was.
Strangely, the thought doesn't put him on edge; doesn't make him want to shy away from the man. Was he a man? It didn't matter.
The door gently shut behind, leaving the prefect alone in the dark hallway to make his way back to his room. He knows he probably won't sleep well, mind racing to make some sort of sense of the strangest hour of Ron's life. Which is saying something as being Harry Potter's best friend leads to very strange things.
Sighing, Ron made his way to the portrait of The Fat Lady that hid the Gryffindor common room. He mumbled the password and practically sprinted up to his room that he shared with the other fifth-year boys. He changed into his sleepwear and flopped onto his bed, not thinking about brushing his teeth, even though he should. He was much too exhausted, both mentally and physically. Still, if his earlier thought about not being able to sleep proved true, he should brush them anyway. Begrudgingly, Ron made for the bathroom.
A knot settled in his stomach as he realized Emrys was still expecting an answer. It made him sick to his stomach. What if he said the wrong thing? Would 'Merlin' laugh at him if he said he did think his defense professor was the greatest wizard of all time? Would he get offended and smite him if he said he didn't believe him? He spit out his toothpaste as the minty flavor turned spicy at the thought, not helping to settle his upset stomach.
Getting back into bed, Ron stared up at the canopy of wood and red fabric that he could barely make out in the dark. Seamus was snoring, quietened only by his closed drapes, Harry and his were the only ones opened. Ron's more so because he wouldn't ever get up on time if they were left closed. He licked his lips as flashes of brilliant gold clouded his vision, reminding him of when the professor's stone had exploded that first day of class. He remembered Hermione talking about how only extremely powerful magic could have done such a thing and how not even Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of their time, had caused his to combust.
He had seen the look that Merlin had thrown to the Ravenclaw ghost, even though they had never met before. Ron was a lot more observant than people gave him credit for, sure he could be a bit thick, but he noticed more than others did. Living with twin pranksters would do that to anyone. He could see the hesitance with which Emrys had not wanted to show off his magic, instead, using the bare minimum. Strange for a wizard to do so many tedious things with his hands rather than his wand. Not to mention his accent was impossible to figure out, it sounded like a mix of three or four different ones. Sure, it was mostly Irish but it didn't seem like it was his native tongue, whatever that was.
Ron turned to lay on his side, hoping it would help sleep take over, sighing and turning the opposite direction when he felt restless. He hoped his exhaustion would help him sleep eventually. It didn't work.
He rubbed his eyes, the sting making his mind focus on the feeling rather than his thoughts for only a minute. He knew Hermione had done some research into the man who literally showed up out of nowhere. She had not shared much, if any of it. Claiming she had found nothing. Did Hermione know whatever the truth was? Was she keeping it a secret? If so, why? Did she not trust him and Harry to not blab? Or was it something more? But if she truly didn't know then how did he find out first?
Was he mad for thinking his professor was Merlin? He didn't want to think anymore, he just wanted to sleep! Frustrated, Ron hit his pillow, trying to get comfortable. Why did he have to find out at night, why not during the day? At least then it wouldn't have kept him up all night!
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Eventually, the sun started to rise and Ron had still not fallen asleep. Giving up, he got ready for the day, heading for breakfast. He got to the Great Hall with only a few people up already, one was Professor Emrys. Ron could see the Professor giving him a concerned look, but he couldn't meet his gaze and settled for sitting down as far from the staff table as possible. The house-elves had most of his favorites, but at the moment the thought of eating made his stomach roll. He knew if he didn't eat he would regret it later, reluctantly, for the first time ever, Ron ate slowly. Making sure he could keep it down before forcing the next bite into his mouth.
He made it through a third of the plate before he couldn't eat anymore, giving up and just heading back to the common room. Thankfully, it was still early and Harry and Hermione were still asleep, though Ron was sure Hermione would not be for much longer. He settled in one of the wingback chairs by the fireplace, making himself as small as possible to avoid being seen. He still had so many questions floating around and he knew the only way to get answers was through the man he was avoiding. Why? He really wasn't sure why he was avoiding the professor, just that he was. He could always ask Hermione what she knew about Merlin, but he wasn't sure he wanted to sit through her rambling. Did that make him a bad friend? He hoped not. Ron just knew that he wouldn't be able to pay attention to a single word that she said. He couldn't ask Harry either, his friend would think he was mad too. Ron thought himself mad.
The only other person who was close enough to Professor Emrys was Malfoy and he didn't particularly want to talk to the Slytherin. They may have a truce but Ron wouldn't trust him as far as he could throw him. And even if he did get to talk with Malfoy there was no guarantee that he knew anything. What if he did? A voice inside whispered to him. Wasn't it suspicious that Malfoy hadn't said anything about the Marauders map? The thing was, he was suspiciously pale and silent as they made the discovery. Still, it was Malfoy, everything he did had to be taken with a grain of salt.
Ron heard footsteps from the left, the girl's dormitories, and he knew it was Hermione. The problem was that she tended to wait for him and Harry before going down to breakfast and with no Harry to buffer the conversation, Ron wasn't sure about what to do. He settled for slumping lower in his seat and acting as if he fell asleep on the chair. He forced his breathing to slow and to stay as still as possible. He didn't dare look up, waiting to see if she would attempt to wake him up or leave him alone. Luck was not on his side as he felt a hand on his shoulder and it took all of his will not to jump and give himself away.
"Ron?" the voice whispered, only it was male. Breathing a sigh of relief, Ron opened his eyes to greet Harry, who still looked half asleep.
"What?" Ron asked, forcing his words to slur slightly and acting as if he had just woken up. He didn't have to try hard on the slur, sadly, as he was exhausted from not getting a wink of sleep last night.
"Did you fall asleep here?" he asked, brows furrowed in concern.
"Er, yeah. Sorry," giving a sheepish shrug and feeling his cheeks grow hot, mentally giving himself a high five for his acting skills. He pushed himself up as Harry sat on the sofa.
"Yeah? How come your clothes aren't wrinkled, Ron?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow, reminding Ron of Emrys' from last night. Ron stuttered, mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of an answer.
"I heard you get up this morning. What happened?" Harry always seemed to see through him when something was wrong. The disadvantage of being Harry's best friend, Ron supposed.
"I...I don't know, I've just got a lot on my mind!" Ron said, throwing his hands up in frustration. Harry put his hands up in a placating gesture and Ron felt guilt at lashing out at him. His shoulders sagged as the anger evaporated. Why couldn't have Hermione figured it out first, he would have believed her. She would have found facts before she approached them with what she found out. Ron only had his gut instincts and most of the time they didn't work very well. So why when he stumbled upon the supposed truth he couldn't believe he found it? Why did doubt make him hold back from asking questions? Fingers snapped in front of his face, making his eyes focus back to Harry looking visibly worried about him.
"Sorry, I couldn't sleep," Ron answered, turning his face away so he wouldn't have to look at Harry's face as the concern increased. "'Mione awake yet?" Ron asked, trying to take the attention off of him.
"Don't think so," making Ron nod, sitting in silence as they waited for Hermione to come down.
Thankfully, Hermione appeared a few minutes later so the tension was only awkward for that time. Ron breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her, hurrying to stand and get to the Great Hall. He saw Hermione give Harry a questioning look and Harry shake his head as if not to ask. Ron knew it wouldn't work for long but he was glad that Harry at least gave him a short reprieve before she started her interrogation.
Of course, Hermione was bursting to ask what had upset him and not even a second after they sat down on the bench of the Gryffindor table did Hermione launch her attack.
"Ron, what's wrong?" she asked, somehow sounding gentle and demanding all at once. It made Ron wince, overly familiar with the tone. He saw her eye his empty plate before she returned to his eyes, concern outweighing her curiosity. Having nothing to do with his hands he wrung them together under the table.
"I think this is something I have to figure out for myself," Ron said. He hated keeping anything from them, but he knew, knew he had to work this out for himself before he told them. If the professor allowed him to tell them that is. Hermione looked ready to argue.
"Leave it 'Mione," Ron pleaded. She looked upset and Ron felt guilt twist his insides just a bit more, but he couldn't deal with her curiosity right now. His head hurt enough already, he was pretty sure he had never thought so hard or for so long than he was now.
"Alright," Hermione said, sounding pained and she visibly struggled to swallow her questions, "just know, we're here if you need us, Ron. We care about you." She reached over to give his forearm a squeeze, Ron nodded in thanks. They spend the rest of breakfast in companionable silence and Ron figured his brain wasn't the only one trying to work itself out.
The question was did he try to get answers out of Malfoy, answers that the slytherin might not have? But there's a chance, his mind whispered. Ron batted it away for the time being. Or did he confront the potential immortal warlock who was supposed to be dead? Ron slumped, chin resting on the palm of his hand and his elbow on the table, blowing out a breath. Neither option seemed like a good one but if he did neither he would never find out anything; he would surely go mad from all this thinking.
"Mr. Weasley," a familiar voice called, startling Ron out of his thoughts to turn to his defense teacher, "a moment."
Ron nodded, grateful the universe decided for him, yet still nervous as he twisted his fingers as they stepped out of the Great Hall. Malfoy was by Emrys' side, shooting looks between the two of them, obviously as confused as Ron. But it proved that Malfoy did know something more about the teacher than most everyone. Did that mean Dumbledore knew since he had employed the man as a professor? He guessed it didn't matter at the moment, sure his imminent death would be coming soon.
They stopped at Emrys' classroom, the man closing the door behind him. Malfoy was watching the professor and Emrys was watching him. Shuffling nervously, Ron spoke the first thing that came to mind.
"Is it true you have an incubus as a parent?" As soon as it was out of his mouth, Ron slapped a hand over it, mortified he had said such a thing. Emrys though, laughed, full out cackled, holding his stomach and wiping his eyes that had misted over in mirth.
"W...Wha-ah- What?" Emrys asked, between laughing. "Is that really the first thing you ask?"
"Well what else was I supposed to say?! You drag me off with Malfoy to your classroom without telling us anything and were just staring at me like you expected me to say something!" Ron ranted, he knew he would probably get in trouble but at the moment he couldn't care less. Apparently, his heart had made up it's mind before his actual mind could and it chose to believe the clearly deranged man. Merlin's eyes softened, telling Ron he probably wasn't in trouble, but he couldn't be sure, he was still The Merlin and who knew the mind of the most powerful wizard ever.
"Sorry, I was just going to answer any question you or Draco had, you would have figured out the truth soon. It just happened to be earlier than I expected, is all," Merlin said, gesturing for them to take a seat. Numbly, Ron sat.
"So are you?" Malfoy asked, looking mildly curious.
"Sired by an incubus? No," Merlin answered, shaking his head in bewilderment, clearly unsure where that had even come from.
"What about StoneHedge? Did you really help build that?" Draco asked. Ron still kept his mouth shut for the time being, not wanting to embarrass himself more than he already did. He wouldn't be afraid to admit he was a little bit in awe of the immortal wizard. He was practically a god in the wizarding world and Ron wasn't sure how Malfoy could simply talk with him.
"...giants helped," Merlin said, making Ron realize he had missed the answer to the question. He kept quiet still, not wanting Merlin, Merlin! To repeat his answer or have Malfoy berate him for not listening to the all powerful warlock.
"Can you speak to dragons?" Ron asked, suddenly, surprising himself more so that the others.
"Sort of, it's complicated," Merlin says, shrugging.
"Uncomplicate it, maybe," Malfoy says and Ron has to admit the slytherin had guts for talking to the man like that.
Sighing, Merlin tells them how his father had been a dragonlord, probably where the whole demon thing came about, and that it was passed down from father to son upon his fathers death. Ron can't imagine his dad dying, he had been so close when he was attacked at the ministry, but Ron had never truly let himself think that he wouldn't make it. Worse, having him die in front of him after saving his life. It makes Merlin less of this legendary figure and more of a man who had no say in the life he led.
"I can command and 'speak' to the lesser forms of the modern day dragons but they cannot talk back anymore, I can only feel what they do. They can understand me but unless they are a great dragon they cannot speak,"
"What about Aithusa?" Ron asks, remembering the night before that led to this whole mess.
"She is a great dragon, the last of her kind, as I am. I just transformed her size to be smaller to fit in the castle without suspicion," shrugging his shoulders. Ron nods, brain almost fried and reaching its breaking point before breaking down.
"Did you mentor King Arthur?" Malfoy asked.
"...That's complicated too. I was 'awarded' the position of his manservant during Uther's reign, Arthur's father. We hated each other in the beginning, but eventually we became friends and he trusted my advice. So in a backhanded way, sure." Merlin clapped his hands together loudly, causing Ron to jump slightly. "I think that's enough for today," getting up and gesturing for them to do the same. Ron gives one last look at Merlin, his DADA professor and he can tell from the eyes that dim as he thought them gone, that Arthur is a sore subject. Ron promises himself that he won't break the warlock's trust and that he will try and look out for the man that hid his broken heart with a smile.