It took quite a bit longer than three months for Merlin to do something stupid.
Harry was an incredibly energetic child who was endlessly curious and it quickly became a full time job stopping him from accidentally killing himself with any of the seemingly infinite number of loose weapons strewn about the castle. The moment he saw Arthur again he was going to ask him what the fuck was wrong with him that he'd stashed sevenknives under his mattress. There had been about 80 guards between the city walls and Arthur's bed at all times, Merlin had no earthly idea what threat he was thinking he'd face in his bed chambers.
Shortly after Harry's fifth birthday they received a letter from one Remus Lupin. It appeared he'd been on the continent, first stationed with a pack on the orders of Dumbledore and then completing his work on his Defense Mastery, taking advantage of being in a country that didn't care whether or not a student was a creature. Upon returning to England, he'd gone to visit Gringotts to deposit the small sum of money he'd been able to make tutoring and had discovered the vault James had left behind, been cleared of any compulsions and tracking charms (left both by Dumbledore and Greyback, much to his eternal anger), and had been given the contact information for "Harrison Potter's guardian."
It appeared he didn't have one single clue who, exactly, he was communicating with.
Thankfully, it didn't take much convincing to get Remus to agree to come visit them. His shock at discovering the man who'd just apparated him from Wales to Somerset was Merlin Emrys and the building he was staring up at was the seat of Camelot was rather short lived because the moment his feet touched the ground his was nearly barrelled over by a missile in the form of a five year old Harry, who'd escaped the two house elves tasked with watching him while Merlin was away, yelling "MOONY!" at the top of his lungs.
"Harry!" Remus responded, bending over and scooping him up into his arms, burying his nose in soft summer blonde curls and revelling in the comforting scent of familyafter all those years, "oh, my little cub, I've missed you so much."
It took the work of about thirty more seconds and a smacking kiss on the cheek from an unfairly adorable five-year-old to get Remus to agree to move in with them full time.
* * *
"So what do you know about Sirius Black?" Merlin asked the moment he and Remus were alone after Harry had gone to bed.
When Remus stared at him like he'd just suggested they go out and kill a litter of puppies he thought, maybe, he could've used a bit more tact.
"He wasn't the secret keeper," Merlin said, hoping that might clarify something.
"What do you mean?" Remus asked, trapped somewhere between the echo of the pain of losing his entire pack in one fell swoop and anger at what was beginning to look like a plot to keep his cub isolated, hidden away from anyone who might genuinely be considered family.
"When we opened James' will there was an additional slip of parchment, sealed with his magical signature, that stated that Peter Pettigrew was their secret keeper, he also didn't leave anything to Peter in his will which is a pretty solid indication that he was expecting to be betrayed."
"Why didn't this come out in Sirius' trial?"
"I don't believe he's had a trial."
Remus almost accused him of lying before realizing that Merlin, this great and powerful wizard who'd spent the last four years raising Harry, showing him love and nurturing the adventure that childhood is meant to be, had absolutely no reason to lie to him, about this or anything else. So, instead, he took a deep breath and asked, "what do we do now?"
"Something stupid," Merlin said with a glint in his eye that Remus recognized from years of happily following James and Sirius into chaos.
* * *
Sunday, 3 November 1985
"Shush, rí beag," Merlin whispered as Harry's footfalls echoed just slightly too loud against the stone hall.
"Sorry," Harry whispered back, taking greater care of where he placed each step. For what Merlin was certain was the world's most hyperactive child, he was quite good at sneaking around; something that'd likely cause problems for his guardians in years to come but served them rather well right about now.
"This is absolutely the dumbest thing I've ever done," Remus muttered to himself, an involuntary shiver running down his spine as the chill from the island began to seep into his bones.
"We've discussed this," Merlin responded, sounding like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince his companion, "the Ministry won't listen to any of us. Between the three of us, the five-year-old has the best chance of getting someone to listen and he's meant to be hidden in Surrey with no knowledge of the wizarding world which leaves us with a werewolf or an ancient sorcerer who's widely believed to be very, very dead, so we're running low on options."
"You're right," Remus said, knowing it was true didn't mean he had to like it, though. "I still don't understand why Harry had to come along."
"That's why," Merlin said, voice still soft as he nodded toward where Harry was merrily conversing with a hoard of Dementors, entirely unaffected by their power.
"What the fuck," Remus whispered, emphasizing every syllable. He'd known that Harry had All Speak, something he discovered after watching his cub happily chatting with the herd of griffins that called the eastern pasture home, but he didn't realize that power extended to dementors of all things.
"It doesn't," Merlin said, making Remus realize he'd spoken that last bit aloud. "This is entirely a Harry Thing."
That was something else Remus had quickly discovered; Merlin was happy to dub anything utterly inexplicable as a 'Harry Thing' and move on as if perfectly happy having no earthly clue how the kid did … just about anything he did. A week after Remus had arrived in Camelot he'd watched Harry skip up the path from the forest with four baby dragons following him like ducklings, nod hello, and then teach them how to swim in the shallow pond near the castle grounds.
Dragons don't swim.
Merlin called it a Harry Thing and carried on with his day as if nothing abnormal had happened.
After that, Remus decided that Merlin's approach was probably best if he didn't want his brain leaking out of his ears every third day when Harry did something beyond the established bounds of logic.
"How'd you know he could speak to them?" Remus asked, happy with categorizing this as a Harry Thing, but wanting to know how Merlin had been sure enough in this skill that he'd carted a child along to fucking Azkaban of all places.
"Peverell blood."
"I don't think James could do this."
"Not all Peverells can, just the ones who've caught the attention of Death."
"Oh, that's not at all concerning."
"It isn't," Merlin shrugged. "At least not for a Peverell. The Tale of the Three Brothers wasn't being poetic when it said that the third brother greeted Death as a friend, he wastruly greeting a friend. For the Peverells that have been marked as Death's Chosen, they are kin; he is a friend and a guide, a protector. He passes on skills and knowledge and when they one day pass on, they greet him as a friend and leave this world as equals. When Harry calls, Death answers. It's an honour, not a curse."
"Huh," Remus hummed, "did you tell him what to say?" he asked, choosing to move past the rather mind-boggling realization that his cub was friends with Death. They were also relying on Harry's Peverell blood to allow them access to the prison at all. It turns out that the island was an old family holding and, technically, the wards were still controlled by the family. They were able to slip in and out unnoticed so long as they were with the acknowledged heir, which felt like a rather large breach in security if you asked Remus.
"I told him we were here to retrieve his godfather, he asked 'Padfoot?,' I said yes, and then he said, 'I've got this, don't worry.'"
"Seriously? That's it?"
"Yup," Merlin said, popping the 'p' and Remus started praying for the Hogwarts staff because the only thing worse than a child of James Potter and Lily Evans was a child of James Potter and Lily Evans raised by this absolute menace. And they were about to add Sirius Black to the equation.
Before Remus had a chance to respond, Harry looked over his shoulder with a blinding grin, lit up like the sun, looking entirely out of place on this nightmare of an island and said, "they're happy to help out, I'll be right back."
"Shouldn't we go with you?" Remus asked, adult enough to realize that sending a child off alone with a pack of soul-sucking beasts wasn't what most would call 'responsible.'
"Oh no," Harry said, vigorously shaking his head. "The living are not welcome visitors."
With that bone chilling warning, Harry turned on his heel and took off after the dementors humming a jaunty little tune, still grinning like this was the best day of his life.
Merlin just huffed out a laugh, a matching grin on his own face as he said, "Circe I love that kid."
Remus, not for the first time, wondered what, exactly, he'd gotten himself into.
* * *
Despite having very little contact with the world outside of Camelot and zero contact with children his own age, Harry was rather aware that he was an odd little boy. It didn't take a genius to know that he was the only five-year-old (and, if he were being honest with himself, the only living person) who could happily chat with the guardians of Azkaban, he knew that his ability to speak to creatures was unique, he was aware that there was some great destiny that awaited him; but, despite knowing all of this, he was also perfectly content enjoying what passed as a normal childhood.
In his young life, he'd had the chance to explore the magical lands that surrounded Camelot. The territory ran over a wide swath of Southwestern England, with the castle at the centre, hidden in magical space near what most know as Cadbury Castle in Somerset. He'd explored the hills and valleys, swum in the rivers and streams, befriended the creatures of air, land, and sea alike, and learned as much as he possibly could.
He spoke the tongues of the animals and was learning in as many languages as Merlin was able to teach him, finding he much preferred Gaelic and Greek to Latin and Pictish but happy nonetheless to learn them all. In recent months he'd found himself learning Welsh while snuggled against Remus' side and was ecstatic when he'd been told that Sirius would be able to teach him French. Knowledge was important to Harry; it was the difference between understanding a challenge and being wholly unprepared.
Harry may be young, but he wasn't stupid. He was well aware of what awaited him when he came of age, even more aware of the challenges he'd likely face in six short years when he entered the halls of Hogwarts, and while he treasured the simple joys of being a child, he was unwilling to be unprepared. He would learn anything and everything his guardians were willing to teach, he would become as strong as he could possibly become, and he would use that knowledge and that strength to protect not only himself, but everyone he loved.
As of right now, that was a rather short list, but he had a lot of love to give and knew that as soon as he was allowed back into society he'd be able to make friends and he wanted to be able to protect those people he'd grow to love. Right now he had Merlin, or Em as he allowed only Harry to address him, and his Moony, and now he was going to get Padfoot.
He knew that letting a five-year-old orchestrate a prison break was a pretty unusual decision, but he also knew that he was the best person for the job.
Still humming quietly to himself, he pushed his magic out and felt it tingle across his skin. He watched in real time as he began to disappear, fading into his surroundings. He was quite pleased with the control he'd just displayed but also knew that he'd have to do this quickly because his young core wouldn't be able to sustain that control for very long.
Taking care to control the volume of his steps, he slipped into the cell the dementors had led him to at the top of the central tower and took in the sight of a familiar black dog. He let his godfather sleep, knowing the next bit of this plan would take a moment to carry out.
"Death," he whispered, letting his control over his core slip as he faded back into visibility.
"Μικρός Άρχοντας," Death whispered back, appearing behind Harry and resting a comforting hand on his shoulder, "little lord, what can I do for you?"
"I need to make it look like Sirius died here."
"That's quite an intelligent plan, Harry," Death praised, a pleased smile on his face as he looked down at his young friend, the boy who was destined to unite his Hollows. "Would you like me to show you how to do it yourself or would you like me to do it for you?"
Harry thought about it for a moment, weighing the wish to learn something new with the knowledge that he didn't have much time to carry his plan out before human guards showed up, "could you do it? But could you teach me whatever it is you're going to do at some point? I'd like to learn."
"Of course I'll teach you, you know I'll teach you whatever I can," Death said, obviously proud of Harry's insatiable curiosity as well as his tactical mind, even at such a young age. With a wave of his hand, a perfect copy of one Sirius Orion Black III appeared on the shabby mattress, breathing steadily and apparently alive.
Harry looked up at Death in question, "the illusion will remain for a couple of days," Death explained, "and then he will 'die,' which will alert the guards. I've transferred all of the monitoring charms from your godfather to this golem, no one but the two of us would ever be able to tell the difference. Now wake the real Sirius up, encourage him to remain in this form, it will be easier for him to slip past unnoticed and remember to call upon me if you ever have need, I will see you later, little lord."
"Σας ευχαριστώ," Harry whispered, thank you.
"Of course," Death said, running his fingers through Harry's hair before patting his cheek twice and fading back into the shadows.
"Alright, only one step left," Harry muttered to himself. "Padfoot," he said softly, stepping up to the sleeping dog and running his hand lightly over his snout. "It's me, it's Harry, wake up please but don't transform back."
Grey eyes blinked open and immediately locked on Harry's face. Harry could practically see the overlapping strings of thought running through his godfather's mind, "everything's alright," he whispered, using the same tone of voice he used with the brand new dragon hatchlings, "I'm here to rescue you, Moony is waiting for us so we need to go but I need you to stay Padfoot until we get off this island, okay?"
Padfoot nodded his shaggy head twice, still refusing to take his eyes off of Harry, like if he blinked his pup would disappear.
"Alright," Harry said, mostly to himself, he reached out and twined his fingers with the fur at the back of Padfoot's neck and let his magic wash over both of them before following the dementors back out into the hallway. He found himself thinking it was stupidly easy to escape this prison; all you needed was a child with mythical powers and a couple agreeable dementors.
The only sound in the hall was the quiet clack of Padfoot's claws against the stone floor and the soft breaths of a boy and a dog, hardly audible over the rattling breaths of their hooded escorts.
As soon as he stepped back into the antechamber they'd arrived in, he released his hold on his magic.
"Let's go," Merlin said the moment he saw the pair.
Harry nodded his thanks to the dementors before taking Merlin's outstretched hand and tightening his grip on Padfoot's fur. Remus joined Harry in holding onto his oldest friend and took Merlin's other hand and with a quiet crack they disappeared.
* * *
"Alright," Harry said, clapping his hands once they were all securely in the castle's family sitting room, commanding more presence than any five-year-old had the right to, and not giving any of the adults so much as a second to gather their thoughts after watching said five-year-old pull off the prison break of the century, "we've got about five days until Sirius is declared dead meaning we've got about two weeks to come up with a plan before that news is released to the public."
"I thought you had a plan?" Merlin asked.
"I had a plan to break him out," Harry said, rolling his eyes with a huff, "I feel like I've done my part because, as you may remember, I'm five."
"I honestly forget sometimes," Remus muttered under his breath.
"Why'd you 'kill' him instead of just leaving the cell empty?" Merlin wondered aloud.
"Because he was never going to get a trial either way and this way we have the option to create a fake identity instead of forcing him to live in exile," Harry said, as if the answer were blindingly obvious.
"Merlin you're smart," Sirius breathed, eyes fond and full of awe.
Harry and Merlin both looked up at him in confusion and Remus bit back a laugh when he realized what had just happened.
"What do you mean I'm smart?" Merlin asked, almost affronted, "Harry's the one who came up with the plan?"
"What?" Sirius said, more confused than Remus had ever seen him and he'd spent seven years sitting beside him while they tried to sort out the actual potions instructions while Slughorn waxed poetic about his famous former students.
"Oh," Harry whispered, eyes wide in realization as he looked toward Merlin in something akin to panic, "we've forgotten to properly introduce ourselves! How rude," he said, shaking his head at himself before turning back toward Sirius, back straight with his right hand over his heart, "Harrison Arthur Pendragon, Crowned Prince of Camelot, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"What?" Sirius echoed, somehow looking even more confused.
"You're going to have to get used to using a different title by the time you leave for Hogwarts, cub," Remus said, reaching out to ruffle Harry's hair, "maybe try it out now, Padfoot might recognize your common name better."
"Oh, alright," Harry shrugged, turning toward Sirius once more, curls now in a state of total disarray which rather minimized the professional effect of his greeting, "Harrison James Potter, Heir Potter, well met."
"Sirius Orion Black the Third, Heir Black, well met," Sirius echoed in a tone that said he was currently only capable of speaking because the proper greetings had been drilled into his young brain years before.
"Cool," Harry grinned, face lighting up like sunshine on a midsummer day and reminding Sirius so viscerally of James that he let out an involuntary whimper. "This is my Uncle Em, only I'm aloud to call him Em, though, Moony calls him Merlin."
"You're joking."
"Nope," Merlin said, matching Harry's grin, "Lord Emrys, well met."
"Well met," Sirius said, eyes still wide in shock.
"So who has a plan?" Harry asked, pushing them to get back on track.
"Walburga and Orion are dead but Arcturus was still alive last we checked," Remus offered.
"How does that help us?" Sirius asked, seemingly snapping out of his trance at the mention of his dearparents.
"He's not batshit crazy?"
"What are the odds he believes Sirius is innocent?" Merlin asked.
"High," Sirius and Remus said, almost in sync.
"Think he'd be willing to claim he had a son 30 years younger than his other kids?"
"You could probably go 25," Harry said, tilting his head and considering Sirius' battered, emaciated form and greying hair, "Azkaban wasn't exactly kind."
Sirius barked out a startled laugh and Remus finally lost his battle with keeping a straight face, nearly falling out of his chair giggling like a child while Harry just continued to stare at them unperturbed.
"That could work," Merlin said, ignoring the giggling pair and turning toward Harry, wondering if it might be considered odd that the most tactical mind in the room was a literal child and then promptly deciding to ignore that thought, "he could be a late in life child, like your own father. How do we sell this to Arcturus, though?"
"The House of Black is very proud, correct?"
"Any house is, but the Blacks possibly take it a bit far," Sirius confirmed.
"Then we frame it as a way to keep the family strong," Harry shrugged, "I'll leave the rest to you three, I'd like to visit the lake if that's alright? A new squid was meant to hatch today and I'd like to check in."
"Remember to put on a jacket, stay on the shore, and be back before the sun sets," Merlin said, resting his hand on Harry's shoulder and placing a temporary tracking and monitoring charm so he'd be alerted if he strayed too close to the ward line or found himself in some sort of danger. "We'll get Sirius settled in."
"Thank you," Harry said, grinning from ear to ear before darting over to hug Remus and then approaching Sirius with a touch more caution, wrapping his arms securely around his godfather's waist and whispering, "I'm happy you're here … happy birthday, by the way."
"As am I, pup, thank you for all of this," Sirius whispered back, pressing a kiss to the top of Harry's head before sending him outside to explore.