@fenwizard
They had descended into the dungeons in silence after Salazar’s spat with Godric in the great hall. The two didn’t fight much, and when they did it was often in good spirits, but something about this one left a sick feeling in Merlin’s stomach. He almost hadn’t risen from his seat and followed his master when he’d left, lost in the twisting paths of his own thoughts. But there were questions burning his tongue, demanding answers, and Merlin’s chair had scraped along the stone in the silence in his hurry to follow him.
“I’m halfblood,” he said from the doorway of Salazar’s study. “My mother was a muggle and my father was magic and you know that. You say those things to Gryffindor-- and I’m halfblood.”
