The Legacy of Salazar

The Writing on the Wall

Merlin felt jittery.

He leaned against one of the black couches before the fire in the Slytherin common room, an odd tingle dancing across the nape of his neck, along the hairs on his arms. The rest of Slytherin House slowly filed out through the stone passageway and on to the much-anticipated Halloween feast. Merlin could see Theodore rocking on the balls of his feet, Pansy and Daphne giggling amongst themselves, and even Blaise had an odd spring in his step as they filtered towards the promise of delicious food.

He waved when Blaise looked back at him and pointed towards the stairs to the boy's dormitory. "Waiting for Draco," he said, by way of explanation and Blaise laughed.

"Still doing his hair, huh?"

Merlin shrugged, and Blaise too disappeared through the stone doorway. He sighed, and dropped his head, shutting his eyes for a moment as a wave of sickening pain broke behind his lids.

The two doses of Pepper-Up Potion had only partially cleared his mind. It felt as though his magic were chasing the pain in circles around in his head, darting from behind his eyes to the back of his skull, and back again. Though Samhain had made it more bearable. All week he had been siphoning some of the raw magic and directing it towards his throbbing brain. Okay, it had left him light-headed and dizzy up until the headache reasserted itself but it was better than wincing at everything.

And he'd miss it when Samhain ended.

He heard steps on the stairwell and looked up to see Draco coming down, at last, his sleek blond hair carefully brushed back.

"It's not like we're going to a dinner party," Merlin said, raising his eyebrow.

"Don't I know it," Draco sneered in reply. "Did you know I saw some Gryffindor first-year try to slide down the bannister yesterday? Crashed into a whole group of Ravenclaw girls."

Merlin chuckled at the thought. "Bet they were thrilled."

Draco glowered. "They blocked up the corridor for fifteen minutes, shouting at him. But regardless," and he shook his head, "I will give this day the respect it deserves."

Merlin paused, his eyes widening. "That's a new one."

"It's not, actually, but come on. We're falling behind," Draco said, gesturing toward the still open stone passageway.

"And whose fault is that?"

Draco didn't reply and instead led the way out into the chilled corridor.

This time, Merlin had remembered to bring his cloak. He shivered, the eerie light of hundreds of black candles making it seem colder than it was. He wondered who had thought the dungeons needed more mood lighting. They turned the corner, and at first, Merlin thought someone had erected a silver fire in the middle of the corridor to go with the candles before it moved and he realized it was the Bloody Baron. He paced back and forth, his brow furrowed.

As they neared, Merlin heard him grumble, "Every year it's the same. Don't see why he needs to—"He stopped short when he saw them approaching. "Ah, on your way to the feast?"

"Yes, sir," Draco answered at once.

"Then you best hurry. It's starting soon."

Draco nodded and made to continue up the corridor, but Merlin didn't move. He felt Draco shoot him a peculiar look, pausing too. The Bloody Baron raised his eyebrow at Merlin, his dark eyes flashing toward Draco.

"Is something the matter, young snake?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Merlin replied. The Baron glanced at Draco again before replying, his voice sharp and rough, like shaking a bucket of rusted nails.