Destinies Collide

Kindling Troubles

A/N: I have a feeling these quick chapters are spoiling you guys, I'll feel so bad the next time I spend like two months without posting lol

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November 30th, 1988

As far as Wednesdays go, Merlin's was turning out to be a pretty good one. He'd dropped Harry off at school, stopping to talk to a few teachers about any missed work from the day before – nothing much, he'd pass it on to Harry when he came back from school – and thanking them for the understanding with the assurance that yes , his son was feeling much better already. He'd endured with waning patience every quip and jab about the need for a female influence in his son's life – a young English teacher was particularly insistent and it was slowly becoming more annoying than amusing – and finally made his way back to the house.

There was little room for regret in regards to letting Harry skip school the day before, their talk – or more accurately their long game of more-than-twenty questions – had been a necessary one, on both ends. Michael knew Harry, from observation and cohabitation, but Merlin had felt the need to create some memories for himself, and his son had clearly needed the assurance that he was not going anywhere and the freedom to ask anything that came to mind in order to get to know Merlin as more than someone that has Michael's memories. All in all, he thinks they're both much better for it, even if certain questions had skirted around painful memories.

"I take it you've finally talked to Harry?" Sal quips as soon as he enters his office and Merlin only nods in reply. "Good," there's a short pause before the portrait chuckles, "you have a kid," he says as if it's only now dawned on him. "Somehow I never thought I'd see the day."

"Perhaps because I assured you it would never happen," Merlin reminds his brother with a pointed look, "repeatedly and at length."

"Yet you and Helga still loved to try," the teasing reminder – an awfully overused one at that – earns the portrait a glare and a roll of his eyes, but somehow the memories it brings up don't hurt quite as much as they used to. "Well, what are your plans now? I'm sure having your memories back has changed them."

"No more courts, for one," he informs the portrait, moving from the centre of the room toward his desk and grabbing a notepad as well as a pencil before walking toward his closed door. "I'm sure there are other solicitors around willing to do the job. I need to focus on Harry, not be worrying about deadlines," he opens the door and narrows his eyes at the top of its frame, finding nothing, which is both good and frustrating. He grabs the pencil and sketches a revealing rune over the deceivingly clear wood, lips twitching up at the corner in satisfaction when it works as intended, turning the sound-sealing array visible. "I'll need a way to use magic once I have it, but all of my ideas inevitably converge into a headache," he adds, sketching the array into his notepad before erasing the revealing rune and letting the hidden runes fade back into the wood. Just by reading the array, he can tell the corresponding rune carved on top of the door, saving him the time of climbing up something to search for it. "Too many people know I'm a squib, suddenly having magic would be highly suspicious."

"Do they know you're a squib, or know you think you're a squib?" Sal points out as he closes the door behind himself, satisfied with the knowledge that the silencing seal won't interfere with any other rune work he decides to apply to the office. "Surely no one's proved it personally?"

Merlin pauses mid-sketch, realizing that his brother is annoyingly right. "Huh," he hums and erases a rune that would clash against the effect he needs, thoughts swirling two ways as he keeps drafting seals. "They haven't, Narcissa simply assumed my status and I sort of ran with it," he admits with a shrug, "I suppose that's easier to explain, then. Maybe I missed my letter?"