Welcome to The Sorcerer's Stone! I do hope you enjoy the story and leave a review expressing your thoughts. This will be a multi-chapter fic and I will try to post updates as soon as I'm able. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, Harry Potter, or any other ideas produced by published authors I might forget to mention.
Chapter 01
A Growing Threat
Merlin had just finished piling the last of his books into his large school trunk when a flash of fire erupted over his bed, the flames quickly transforming into a single red feather. The warlock looked around. Seeing that his fellow dormmates were busy loading their own trunks, he ignored the wand in his pocket and opted for flicking his finger. His eyes briefly lit a molten gold and the feather vanished. Pushing the bridge of his glasses further up his nose, he looked around again. Even though he knew the spectacles were glamoured to hide the evidence of magic from the Wizarding World, he was still nervous someone might see something they shouldn't; unlike in ancient times, those with magic in today's world didn't have eyes that manifest a golden hue when performing spells.
Finding that his slight anxiety was unfounded, Merlin casually shut his now-full trunk and made an excuse about going to find Nellie before leaving the dormitory. But instead of searching for her, he left Ravenclaw Tower, quickening his pace until his feet planted him in front of the entrance to the Headmaster's office. Giving the password (Acid Pops), Merlin waited for the wall to split open before wandering up the moving spiral staircase. Reaching a gleaming oak door with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin, he ignored it completely and simply pushed it open.
Stepping inside the circular room, he was immediately exposed to the unique office of the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Owned by Albus Dumbledore, a longtime friend, Merlin unconsciously smiled at the light noises and puffs of smoke coming from various instruments on spindle-legged tables. The portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses snoozed comfortably in the frames hanging around the large circular room, the largest being the painting of Armando Dippet right behind the headmaster's desk. Next to the desk was the perch of Fawkes the Phoenix, Dumbledore's pet bird, and seated behind the desk was Albus Dumbledore himself. Merlin experienced a silent sadness as he gazed upon his friend who, like everyone else, had not managed to escape the passage of time.
Dumbledore's once short auburn hair was now long and white, his old age producing a remarkable beard that reminded Merlin comically of his ancient 'Dragoon' disguise. The headmaster's crooked nose and twinkling blue eyes were ornamented with a pair of golden half moon spectacles and his lanky form was clothed in a remarkable green robe. A pleasant smile lit Dumbledore's face at the sight of him and he welcomed Merlin forward, indicating for him to sit in one of the two chairs opposite him.
"Nicolas, thank you for coming."
"Always a pleasure," Merlin smiled, sitting down. He finally noticed Dumbledore had another visitor. "Newt!" he cried in delight, "What are you doing here?"
The old Magizoologist tried to send his friend a genuine smile but failed as his worry hindered the action.
"I come with grave tidings, I'm afraid."
"What do you mean?" Merlin asked, his smile turning into a frown.
"I was on, um, 'holiday', if you will, with Tina in Albania," Newt began to explain, his hazel eyes shifting slightly.
"What magical creature were you after this time?" Merlin asked with a grin.
Every time Newt Scamander went on holiday it was because there was a creature he wanted to meet – much to Tina's chagrin; she felt he was getting too old to go gallivanting around the world but went with him anyway (out of love and fear for his safety).
Newt sighed, knowing Merlin knew him too well to believe he was simply taking a vacation.
"It was a manticore, to be honest," he admitted as Dumbledore's mouth twitched in silent amusement, "but the rumors were unfounded. Anyway, while I was there, I ran into a Vampire who told me of a forest that had recently been vacated of all magical creatures."
The humor in Merlin's eyes was replaced with concern.
"Did they tell you the cause?"
"She said that the animals were being possessed by some dark being and the magical creatures, not wanting to suffer the same fate, left."
Merlin's concern grew tenfold. A dark being possessing animals?
"Do you believe we're dealing with a vengeful ghost that's upset it can't pass through the Veil?"
"Normally I would jump to that conclusion myself, Nicolas, but given the theories I've shared with you in recent years, I fear it might be something else."
Merlin stared right into Dumbledore's eyes and experienced a small stirring of anxiety.
"You don't mean…?"
Dumbledore nodded, leaning into his threaded hands propped up by his elbows resting on the desk. His gaze became distant, the wrinkles of his forehead burrowing together as he became lost in contemplation. Merlin and Newt shared a glance, both drawing to the same conclusion the headmaster had. While Newt looked rather scared, Merlin was merely worried; not for himself, but for the world.
He hadn't forgotten the destruction and chaos that been inflicted by the hands of the evil wizard Voldemort to both the muggle and wizarding worlds. He had been beyond grateful when the man had been thwarted by young Harry Potter because the Old Religion had forbade him from getting personally involved. As the most powerful warlock to ever live, Merlin could have ended Voldemort's reign of terror when it had first begun but he was bound to listen to the ancient power that flowed through the earth. A prophecy concerning Voldemort and the Chosen One had been given and he knew better than anyone not to meddle with prophecies; they came to pass whether he liked them to or not. But even if he couldn't stop Voldemort, he could aid the Chosen One and he'd planned to do that – though he didn't discover the one destined to fill that role would be Harry until Halloween night about eleven years ago.
Many believed that Voldemort had died that day but Merlin knew better. He had examined the Potters demolished home himself and felt the remains of dark magic at work. He didn't know how but Voldemort had survived, he was sure of it. When he shared his suspicions with Dumbledore, the headmaster had agreed with him, sharing theories of his own concerning the creation of a horcrux, one of the blackest forms of magic Merlin had ever heard of. The possibility of Voldemort making a horcrux – or even several for that matter – did not rest well with him at all but it was the best theory the two old friends had come up with over the years. Though not confirmed, this new information of a dark being possessing animals fit the bill of a broken soul searching for a host to conceal itself.
"We need to find out if it's him," Merlin muttered, breaking the silence. "This is the first solid piece of evidence we've had in four years as to where he might be hiding. Newt, did that vampire say which forest the animals were being possessed in?"
"Somewhere in the west. Wait, you're not suggesting searching the place yourself, are you?" Newt asked anxiously.
"He can't hurt me, Newt," Merlin assured, "you know that."
"Do not underestimate him, Nicolas," Dumbledore admonished. "Voldemort is crafty and cunning. Even if his soul is currently broken I would not doubt he is a force to be reckoned with. Besides, I fear it might not be the best idea for you to go. Voldemort knows who you are and what you possess."
Merlin frowned. "Even so, I can't just sit back and do nothing, Albus. I have to go."
The old headmaster let out a weary sigh. "Nothing I say will change your mind, will it?"
Merlin sent him a sad grin. "You know it won't."
"Indeed I do. Sometimes I fear your immortality has made you careless."
Merlin laughed. "You might be right, Albus, but being immortal means that even if Voldemort tried anything on me I wouldn't die – and we both know I can easily defy the Imperius Curse and all other mind controlling spells."
Albus frowned. "Despite that, I still feel wary of sending you, Nicolas. You keep the Sorcerer's Stone with you at all times. That is perfect incentive for Voldemort to attack you. Imagine what he would do if he got hold of it!"
"I would never allow that to happen," Merlin stated, silently wishing for the thousandth time that Dumbledore knew who he truly was; if he did then he would understand that his magic could walk circles around any attack Voldemort tried to implement.
"You can't rely on confidence in this situation, Nick," Newt muttered, meeting Merlin's eyes with a determined glare. "Think of Perenelle. Would you allow your pride to risk her safety?"
Merlin frowned. No, he would never do anything to risk his beloved wife – not when she was the only happiness he'd had to hold on to for the last six hundred years.
"Place the stone in Gringotts," Dumbledore suggested. "It's the safest place in the world besides Hogwarts and Perenelle will not be in any danger while you are away."
Merlin wrinkled his nose. He wasn't too thrilled about goblins. Although, their race had come far since the days of Camelot; they had bred with humans over the years and become more civilized and tame. And, despite their greed still being deeply rooted in their blood, they did take pride in their work of securing the treasures of witches and wizards. Merlin may not like them but even he had to admit they were efficient in keeping things safe.
"Alright," he conceded. "I'll place the stone in one of the high security vaults. Only you, Newt, Nellie, or myself will be allowed to remove it – and any we give permission to act on our behalf."
Dumbledore's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Nicolas. I know you would rather keep it with you but it brings me peace of mind to know it will be safe and far away should you actually cross Voldemort's path."
"When are you going to go?" asked Newt.
"As soon as I get Nellie home and drop off the stone at Gringotts," Merlin stated. "I'd rather not wait and allow this opportunity to pass. The sooner we confirm if Voldemort is there, the better."
"Please tell me what you find as soon as you return," Dumbledore said as the three men stood.
"I will," Merlin promised. "The train should be departing soon; come on, Newt, I'll walk you out."
"It was nice seeing you again, Albus," the old Magizoologist said, "even if the circumstances were not the best."
"Thank you for coming to me with the information, Newt," Dumbledore smiled. "You were right to do so."
"Having suspected who it might be I figured that, out of anyone, you had the right to know first."
"You did the right thing," Merlin praised. "But keep this information from the Ministry for now; we don't need to cause panic if this turns out to be nothing."
"I understand," Newt muttered. "Have a good summer, professor."
"You as well, Mr. Scamander," Dumbledore replied. "And don't forget to stop by after you've checked the forest, Nicolas."
"I won't, Albus," Merlin promised as he and Newt took their leave.
Once they were halfway down to the entrance hall, Newt gently grabbed Merlin's arm and pulled him into an empty classroom. Checking to make sure the area was devoid of any ghosts or Peeves the Poltergeist, the old Magizoologist turned to face his friend.
"Are you really going to place the stone in Gringotts or were you just telling Dumbledore that – and don't lie to me, Merlin, I know you too well."
Merlin sighed, a defeated smile crossing his young face. "You know, sometimes you're almost as bad as Arthur."
He regretted those words the second they left his mouth, his heart automatically clutching in pain as the image of his King was thrust to the forefront of his mind. Swallowing hard and trying to push the pain away, Merlin turned to face the greatest friend he'd had – besides Perenelle – since his Camelot days.
Newt Scamander was a rarity among men. He loved magical creatures more than anything in the world – besides his wife, Tina – and he had a connection with them that no other witch or wizard possessed. It was this connection that enabled him to discover who Merlin really was when they worked together during World War One in a confidential program to wrangle Ukrainian Ironbellys.
Though the dragons of today were nothing compared to the dragons of old (they were a hybrid of Old dragons and wyverns) Merlin was still able to control them due to his abilities as a dragonlord. Newt, though not a dragonlord in any way, shape, or form, was able to communicate with them too but in a different way. Merlin had been astounded, to say the least, when the dragons actually calmed under Newt's soft words and soothing presence.
Curious about the young man, Merlin got to know him and, over time, Newt discovered his secret. Merlin was a creature of magic, after all, and the gift Newt possessed enabled him to connect the dots. When he gently revealed to Merlin that he knew the truth, the warlock had been surprisingly calm. Out of every witch or wizard in the Wizarding World, he knew he had nothing to fear from Newt. Newt treated him no differently after his discovery and, over time, Merlin entrusted his secret with Tina, knowing that, like her husband, she would not look on him as some sort of deity. They had become his closest friends and though they refused to have any kind of Elixir like Perenelle to live forever, they were a treasure and joy he would sorely miss just as much as his Camelot friends when their time would come to leave this life.
Eyeing his aging friend, Merlin sighed. "No, Newt, I didn't lie. You and Albus are right; the stone would be safer if I left it behind."
Newt took Merlin's shoulders and sadly smiled. "I know you think yourself invincible, Merlin, but this is the right choice. Voldemort returning is the worst possible thing that could happen and I don't want the stone to be the thing that brings him back. You would hold yourself responsible and we both know that you cling to guilt with an iron fist."
Merlin laughed briefly through his nose. "It is one of my unfortunate traits – one that you, Tina, and Nellie have helped me combat on many occasions."
Newt smiled, the many wrinkles in his lined face cheerfully gathering together. "That's what friends do, Merlin. Now, you'd better go before the Hogwarts Express leaves without you."
"Even if it did, I'd just magick myself to the station and meet Nellie there," Merlin grinned.
Newt rolled his eyes. "How is it fair that the anti-disapparition jinx does not apply to you?"
"There are no spells from the New magic that can hinder the Old, Newt," Merlin chuckled.
Newt sighed. "Insufferable, you are. Take care of yourself, Merlin. I mean it."
"You too," Merlin answered, shaking his friend's old hand.
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Merlin sighed, leaning against the brick wall of platform nine and three-quarters with his trunk (now disguised as a briefcase) at his feet; he'd ended up missing the train after all. After parting ways with Newt, he'd returned to Ravenclaw tower only to find it empty. Perenelle had left him a note on his trunk saying that she'd see him at the station if not on the train. Merlin pulled the note from his pocket and smiled, his thoughts becoming lost in memory.
He had first met Perenelle when he'd decided to attend Beauxbatons Academy of Magic back in the early thirteen hundreds. While it was love at first sight for her, it took until after their years at school for Merlin to realize he had fallen in love with her too. This had terrified him because he had done everything in his power not to become romantically involved with anyone; relationships were difficult when one side lived forever and the other was subjected to the realm of time.
What ultimately won him over was Perenelle hunting him down and discovering his secret seven years after she'd graduated. She told him that she didn't care whether he was Nicolas Flamel or Merlin; she would love him no matter what. He'd married her after that, despite knowing the danger of what it would do to him.
Since leaving Camelot, he'd devoted most of his time to wandering around the world and learning all the facets magic had to offer because it distracted him from his loneliness and heartbreak. He'd made many friends in his travels but over and over he had to uproot his life before he became too attached. He never aged, you see, and he couldn't bear eternally repeating the pain of losing someone – he had enough holes in his heart to last him forever as it was. But he'd gone ahead and married Perenelle anyway because, honestly, he was tired of running away.
Never once did he regret his decision to marry her for she turned out to be a happiness he never thought he'd have. The only other woman he'd ever loved had been taken from him before their lives could even begin and since that day he had devoted himself to serving and protecting Arthur. But Arthur had been gone for many years and without a purpose – except for waiting for the prat to return – Merlin had become lost and lonely. Perenelle's unconditional love had been too tempting to refuse and so he had proposed and discovered the joys of being a married man.
The first four years were incredible and filled with bliss, Merlin finding himself happier than he'd been in centuries. But when the first gray hair appeared in Perenelle's wavy caramel locks, the warlock's happiness was replaced with fear. He started having nightmares, ones that he hadn't had for a long time, each involving the deaths of his closest friends. Arthur's was the most prominent and many nights Merlin would wake in tears, the image of his King's dead body drifting away from him on the Lake of Avalon burning behind his retinas. Perenelle had always been there to comfort him but Merlin couldn't help but think that one day her death would be added to the horrible dreams.
And so, out of desperation, he delved into any kind of magic he could think of that would separate his soul from its immortal chains.
After years of failed attempts – and many accidents that almost completely destroyed their house – Merlin's experiments with alchemy proved fruitful and the Sorcerer's Stone was born. Though it did not take away his immortality, it did create a way for Perenelle to remain at his side through a substance he called the Elixir of Life. The stone also had the side effect of turning any metal into pure gold but Merlin never abused that power, only using it to benefit others and furthering education through generous donations to magic schools worldwide.
Perenelle had been surprisingly excited about the idea of living forever. Merlin had been afraid that with all the grief she'd seen him go through, she wouldn't want to live such a life, but his young wife, with love radiating from her eyes, explained that with the stone she would never have to leave him. It also provided an excuse as to why Merlin never aged, effectively ending the need of having to constantly uproot his life and change his name. Merlin wasn't a fan of the idea of letting the world learn about the stone but with Perenelle's insistence he eventually allowed its existence to be known and, in time, he didn't regret it. He'd been Nicolas Flamel for hundreds of years, living in the same place for that long with his darling wife.
Eventually they started de-aging themselves for fun, periodically attending various wizard and muggle schools around the world under different aliases. This was how they met Albus Dumbledore, returning to Hogwarts the same time he started. Merlin chose to be sorted into Gryffindor that time – the Sorting Hat always refused to sort him because he was magic itself – and he'd ended up becoming Dumbledore's best friend. Though Perenelle was in Ravenclaw – she always ended up there no matter how many times they went to Hogwarts – she found time to be with them whenever their schedules would allow. Dumbledore, as clever as he was, discovered that Merlin was Nicolas Flamel in his second year. Merlin would have corrected him and said he was actually Merlin but he'd made the decision long ago that he would never disclose who he truly was to anyone; if they were to find out the truth themselves, then he would confirm it.
He was sure that if things had been different Dumbledore would have learned his true identity but, now that he hid behind the alias of an immortal, the likelihood of anyone discovering his secret was slim to none. This suited Merlin just fine (he didn't like the fame he had in the Wizarding World) but there were moments in later years that he regretted never telling Albus the truth. He teased the idea several times but he never actually followed through on any schemed attempts; perhaps it was an old habit of his since the fears of revealing his magic to anyone had been branded into his brain by his mother throughout his entire childhood.
Merlin was pulled from his thoughts as the whistle from the Hogwarts Express echoed off the walls of the platform, the scarlet steam engine crawling to a stop as many eager parents, waiting to be reunited with their children, shuffled closer to the doors. Soon the area was filled with families who began leaving the platform through the exit that would take them back to the muggle world. It didn't take long for Nellie to find him. He watched her approach, grinning at the slightly jutted lip she displayed.
"Now that's not fair," she grumbled, slightly looking up at him through her long caramel-colored bangs. "You get to go back to normal while I'm stuck as a fourteen year old?"
Merlin embraced her. "I'll remove the spell as soon as we get home," he promised.
"You'd better," she warned.
Taking out his wand, he waved it so her trunk also turned into a briefcase before picking up both items and following her through the exit. Once outside in the warm summer air, Merlin waited until the way was clear before whisking Perenelle back to Devon through the use of a self-made portkey. The two gently landed just outside the protective wards of their large home and Merlin quickly removed the spell over his wife.
The fourteen year old was replaced by a beautiful woman with the appearance of a thirty year old. Her long caramel hair cascaded in waves over her slightly tanned shoulders, dancing in the breeze coming from the sea. Merlin set down the suitcases and cradled her face in his hands examining every inch of her striking features. Her skin was smooth but sprinkled here and there with an occasional freckle, her nose straight but rounded and lifted upwards on the end. Her bottom lip was slightly larger than the upper, creating a breathtaking smile, and her eyes, sparkling hues of hazel, were windows to a cheerful soul.
Gracious, he loved her – and he proved it by kissing her right then and there.
"Merlin!" she laughed as he scooped her up, his eyes flashing and causing the briefcases to disappear into the house as he carried her inside. Any further protests were silenced as he kissed her again, maneuvering through the halls and up the stairs with ease, having memorized the inner designs of their home centuries ago. Reaching their bedroom, he flung the door aside and set her down on the bed, looming over her with a grin.
"You know, it really is hard to get in bed with you at Hogwarts. If I hadn't created the Room of Requirement all those years ago we wouldn't be able to have sex until the end of the school year."
"And how awful that would be," she groaned, her eyes darkening with desire. "Now get down here; it's been at least three weeks since I was able to have you all to myself."
Merlin chuckled before immediately obliging, his lips meeting hers as passion took hold. It was glorious not having to hold back or worrying about anyone discovering them – because, while the Room of Requirement was the best place to go, they hadn't always ended up there. Sometimes it was an abandoned classroom, other times the Prefects bathroom and, on rare occasion, a broom closet. Merlin felt guilty for it but he wasn't always the strongest at keeping his feelings at bay. How Arthur had managed to do it was beyond him; there had been many council meetings where he'd noticed the king and queen itching to be alone but refraining indulging their desires until within the privacy of their own chambers. He envied the tenacity of the other side of his coin.
After a rather incredible round of love-making, Merlin redressed and kissed his adoring wife.
She smiled. "You know, even after six hundred years that never gets old."
Merlin laughed. "Indeed it doesn't."
Leaving her to get dressed, he went down into the kitchen to make dinner. A short while later she joined him, running her hand across his shoulder before picking up a knife and starting on the vegetables. The two worked together and soon they indulged in a fresh bowl of potato soup and a side of hot bread.
"Nellie, the reason I missed the train is because Dumbledore needed to talk to me," Merlin revealed after finishing off his second slice of bread.
Perenelle raised one thin eyebrow. "At the end of the school year?"
Merlin then explained what Newt had shared with them and how he was planning on going to Albania himself. His wife was rather concerned by the time he'd finished.
"I know you've said for several months that you've felt evil stirring," she muttered. "Do you think he might be it?"
"I'm not sure," Merlin admitted, "but he could be. We both know that Voldemort isn't really gone. Perhaps this is where he's hiding."
"And what are you going to do if he is there? You can't get rid of him – that's Harry Potter's job."
"You're right but I can cast a tracking spell and that will be a huge advantage if he ever tries to get close to the boy."
Nellie sighed. "Alright, Merlin, but you need to be careful."
Merlin took the Sorcerer's Stone from his pocket. "Are you okay with me putting this in Gringotts?"
She smiled. "I think it's a very good idea but only while you're chasing after Voldemort."
"I agree," Merlin muttered as he stood up. "Once I'm back, I'll collect it."
"You're leaving now?" she asked as he walked over to a cupboard and pulled out the roll of brown paper they usually used for wrapping presents.
"I don't want to miss the opportunity if it does turn out to be him," he replied as he wrapped up the stone and tied the tiny package with string. "I don't know how long I'll be gone but I'll scry you once in a while to see how things are going and I'll try to be back before the next school year starts."
Nellie stood up as he finished and they shared a heartfelt embrace and a gentle kiss. "Just be sure to come back to me," she muttered into his shoulder.
"I always do," he softly stated, kissing her forehead before slipping the package into the inner pocket of his robes.
Stepping back, he twisted on his heel and apparated to Diagon Alley. The streets were fairly empty now that it was reaching the evening hours, many either traveling home or heading to the Leaky Cauldron for a hot meal. Fingering the stone now resting in a secret pocket of his robes, Merlin hastened down the cobbled street, reaching Gringotts bank a few minutes later. The white establishment stood taller than any of the shops surrounding it. The goblin by the door saw him coming and its eyes widened slightly in recognition.
"Emrys," he whispered respectfully and bowed.
Merlin nodded to him before entering, trying not to be bothered by the action; he'd never liked people bowing to him. Even after Gwen had made him Court Sorcerer and he was openly acknowledged as part of the nobility, he hated all the attention; he only allowed it because Gwen told him it would be disrespectful not to.
Walking up to the nearest available counter, Merlin greeted the goblin and stated his business. "I need to use one of the highest security vaults you have accessible."
The goblin raised one curious bushy eyebrow and asked, "Hiding something of significant value, Emrys?"
"Whether I am or not is of no concern," Merlin replied.
"Of course," the goblin muttered as he pulled out a book and ran his long finger down the page before stopping to tap the surface. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen is available."
"I'll take it. How much?"
"For you, Emrys, nothing," he said before leaning in close and whispering, "We goblins have not forgotten the help you gave during the wars."
Merlin frowned. "Though I don't agree with some of the views of your kind, I felt it appropriate to interfere when my people were not treating you with respect."
"And we appreciate that," the goblin answered before waving to one of his associates standing near the wall. "Spindlesnatch will take you where you need to go. Vault seven hundred and thirteen," he said when Spindlesnatch drew near.
Spindlesnatch nodded to him before leading Merlin through a set of side doors that led to a narrow stone passage lit with torches. The goblin whistled and the customary cart rattled up the tracks in the middle of the floor towards them. Climbing in, a wide smile spread across Merlin's face when the cart took off, zooming quickly around turns, passing an underground lake, and continuing to delve deeper and deeper underground; the warlock had developed a strong love for roller coasters. There were rumors that the goblins kept a dragon down here but Merlin had never sensed one and he had done plenty of magical scans just to be sure. If he had found one chained up, well, let's just say the goblins would have immediately regretted their actions.
Reaching vault seven hundred and thirteen, Merlin stepped out of the cart and stretched his legs while Spindlesnatch opened the door by stroking his finger against the surface. The goblin magic on the door was ingenious; Merlin was sure that if any witch or wizard – besides him – tried to break in, they would be unable to get out and end up rotting inside the vault for years. The vault was completely bare and Merlin wasted no time walking inside and placing the tiny package on the floor. He took a step back and stared at it, biting his bottom lip. Since creating it, this would be the first time he left it somewhere. This was the only thing keeping his dear sweet Perenelle alive. Without it, she would crumble into nothing but memories. Sure, he could try to make another one, but Merlin really didn't know if he could succeed a second time and he didn't want to consider the possibility of having to do so.
"You'll make sure it stays safe?" he asked as he turned to Spindlesnatch.
"You doubt our security?" the goblin asked with slight irritation.
Merlin's eyes flashed and, though the gold was hidden behind his glasses, the power from the raw pulse of his magic was certainly felt. Spindlesnatch flinched and took an unconscious step backward.
"I once lost everything I ever cared about," Merlin whispered, slowly walking towards the goblin, his tone low and dangerous. "I am entrusting you and this establishment with something that is beyond precious to me. If anything were to happen to it, anything at all, those involved in the situation would be hunted down and interrogated by me – and believe me, if it gets to that point, I might display a power that hasn't been seen in a very long time. So, when I ask if you'll make sure it stays safe…"
Spindlesnatch swallowed and answered immediately, "We will do everything in our power to make it so, Emrys."
Merlin leaned back and nodded in satisfaction. "That's all I ask."
Spindlesnatch inclined his head and Merlin returned the gesture, climbing back into the cart only after the goblin cast the magic that would seal the door closed. As the cart prepared to take them back to the surface, Merlin whispered his own spell of protection on the door, his eyes burning gold just before the cart took off. After returning to the top floor, Merlin made sure to thank Spindlesnatch before leaving the building, his heart in his mouth with anxiety. He almost turned around but then he thought of what would happen to his precious Nellie if Voldemort got his hands on the stone. He decided it was best to leave things be – for now. Taking a deep breath, Merlin stepped out of Gringotts and forced himself down the cobbled street of Diagon Alley.
After a few hundred yards, he entered a small alley between two shops and pulled out a power stone. It was an object of the Old Religion that acted like a magical aquifer, allowing a sorcerer to store large quantities of their energy within and then use it to increase the potency of any spell they cast. Transportation spells – both Old and New – were remarkable things but even they had their limits and none were strong enough to carry someone across continents. But, with the help of a power stone, Merlin could do it. Holding it tightly in his fist, the warlock called upon both the magic in his veins and that which he'd stored within the power stone before transporting.
Landing just off the E852 near Librazhd, Merlin transfigured his robes for muggle clothes and backtracked a ways until he found a town with a gas station that held a map of the surrounding area. Purchasing it, he wandered back outside and started for the mountains. He had a lot of ground to cover and he had to be extremely thorough if he was to succeed. Merlin sighed, looking up at the vast mountains before him covered in nothing but thick foliage and tall trees.
"Why did I volunteer for this?" he grumbled aloud, marching away from the road, "Oh yeah, because even if I ran into Voldemort, he wouldn't be able to kill me. You know, even though I'm hunting for the broken soul of a sorcerer, it would be nice if the Prat and the knights could help me track him down; best hunters in the five kingdoms… never around when you need them."
Merlin tried not to feel bitter as he thought of his friends, all of them probably lounging in Avalon enjoying their afterlife. How he wished he could join them! Life was hard enough but an immortal life? He wouldn't wish that on anyone nor could he understand why so many people desired such a thing. Shaking his head, he eventually entered the woods and spread his magic out, searching for any signs of animal life.
He traveled long after the sun had set, his path only visible because of the blue orb he had conjured to float a few feet above him. Near midnight he decided to get some sleep. After transfiguring a tree into a tent and setting up protective wards in a ten foot perimeter, Merlin entered the makeshift home and kicked off his shoes. Despite the fancy tents many of his kind used today -that resembled the inner structure of a fully furnished house- Merlin only thought of the necessities: a bed to sleep on and a bathroom to use. Yawning, he crawled under the thick covers and placed a heating spell upon them before falling asleep.
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Newt sat in comfort, a mug of butterbeer clasped in his hand, as he listened to Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts Gamekeeper, go on and on about a three headed dog he'd bought off a Greek fellow a year ago.
"He's jus' the sweetest thing," Hagrid was saying, "Yeh'd love 'im, Newt."
"He sounds like quite the excitable creature," Newt smiled, incredibly interested. "Perhaps I can come by sometime next week?"
"O' course," Hagrid happily agreed before draining his fifth round of firewhiskey from his large tankard.
"What did you say his name was again?"
"Fluffy."
Newt chuckled. Few would ever give such a cuddly name to a massive creature with three heads; he would have.
The door to the Leaky Cauldron opened and in stepped a man wearing black robes and an incredibly frightened countenance. As he approached the bar, Newt did a double take and stood up.
"Professor Quirrell?"
The man practically leapt out of his skin as he whipped around to see who had addressed him. "O-Oh," he nervously chuckled, "M-Mr. S-Scamander! I didn't s-see you t-there."
Newt frowned. When he was in Albania with Tina, they'd run into the Hogwarts professor at a local pub. Apparently he'd taken a one year sabbatical to gain 'firsthand experience' but he hadn't been stuttering then nor had he look like a cornered animal as he did now. Had something happened?
"Are you alright?" he inquired.
"F-Fine," Quirrell replied, waving his hand back and forth.
"Yeh look as if yer about to leap out o' yer skin, professor," Hagrid commented, just as concerned as Newt for the younger man. "Did somethin' happen to yeh while traveling? When did yeh get back?"
"L-Last w-w-week," the professor answered as Newt guided him over to their table. "I r-ran into a v-v-vampire or t-two – and a h-hag – and well…" he shrugged helplessly, his nerves clearly on edge as he looked into the far corners of the room, believing that something sinister was waiting in the shadows to attack him.
"Vampires can be a little tricky," Newt comforted, "and I make it my business to stay as far away from hags as possible."
"I t-take it you d-didn't run into a-any of them w-while y-you were in A-Albania, t-then?"
"Hags? No," Newt answered while shaking his head.
"What were yeh doin' in Albania, Newt?" asked Hagrid.
"I was trying to follow up on a rumor about a manticore but that's all it turned out to be," Newt sighed with great disappointment. "I did get to talk to a vampire though – say, professor, you didn't happen to see anything odd while you were out there, did you?"
"O-Odd? What d-do you m-mean, M-Mr. S-Scamander?"
"My vampire friend told me that the magical creatures had abandoned a particular part of the forest," Newt said. "I just wondered if you'd seen anything unusual – dead animals perhaps?"
"D-Dead animals?" Quirrell repeated, his eyes wide with terror as he adamantly shook his head, "I'm afraid I d-didn't see a-anything like t-that. M-Maybe your v-v-vampire friend was m-mistaken?"
"Maybe," Newt muttered though he knew this wasn't the case.
The vampire had looked rather spooked when talking to him and it wasn't exactly in a vampire's nature to be scared about anything. Once again he thought back to the conversation about a month ago when Dumbledore had suggested leaving the stone in Gringotts before Merlin went to Albania to scope things out; if Voldemort had been there and gotten his hands on it… it wouldn't have been good for any of them.
Hagrid cleared his throat, pulling Newt from his thoughts. "Say, I hate ter leave ya, Newt, but I'd best be getting' back – Hogwarts duties an' all."
"Oh, that's alright, Hagrid," he said with a smile.
"Yeh'll come by an' look at Fluffy? Professor Dumbledore wants ter know what yeh think about him guardin' the Sorcerer's Stone – if we have ter move it out o' Gringotts, o' course."
"Hagrid!" Newt cried in panic, looking around to see if anyone besides the professor had overheard.
Quirrell's eyes widened. "The Sorcerer's Stone? As in the one owned by Nicolas Flamel?"
Newt glowered at the apologetic half giant before sighing, "Yes, professor, but I didn't know it was planning on being moved."
He sent the half-giant a questioning glare and Hagrid sheepishly nodded his head before whispering, "Currently it's not but Dumbledore's made a plan to protect the stone with a few o' the teachers help – you're one of 'em too, professor."
"He is?" Newt asked at the same time Quirrell said, "I am?"
Hagrid nodded and Newt started to relax. If Quirrell was supposed to help protect the stone then it was alright that he knew where it was. Still, it wouldn't do to continue this conversation here.
"Hagrid, I think Professor Quirrell should learn the rest of this potential plan from Dumbledore himself."
The half-giant stared down at Newt and got the hint. "Oh, er, right, we'd best be off then."
"You go o-on ahead, H-Hagrid," said Quirrell. "I h-have to p-p-prepare for the n-new school year, you s-see – a f-few things to b-buy…"
"Right," Hagrid grunted, his large chair scrapping in protest as he stood. "I'll see yeh later then, professor. Newt, always a pleasure."
"I'll see you next week," Newt said with a smile before he turned to Quirrell. "I hope you have a good term, professor."
"T-Thank you, M-Mr. S-Scamander," he stuttered. "Enjoy y-your evening."
Newt nodded to him before paying for his and Hagrid's drinks – it had been his turn to pay – before leaving the pub. He prayed that no one else had overheard that conversation.
"I should really stop allowing Hagrid to drink so much," he sighed before apparating to his quiet home in the country.
[][][]
It took a little over a month before Merlin found the area that Newt had described to him – which was a good thing since he'd nearly reached the end of his rope after three weeks of negative results. As he looked around the middle of the Shebenik-Jabllanice National Park, he immediately noticed the lack of magical creatures as well as littered animal remains scattered about the forest floor. Merlin's eyes narrowed at the dark magic that lingered, poisoning the air. Every inch of him was longing to leave but he knew he was close, closer than he'd ever been, and he wasn't about to turn back now.
It took an entire day to thoroughly search the infected area and by the end of it Merlin was exhausted and empty-handed. The next day he covered the terrain surrounding the spot but discovered that the black magic lingering within a radius of seventeen miles abruptly stopped. Suspicious as well as nervous, Merlin rested under a shady tree and considered his options.
Voldemort had been here – the dark magic hovering around the dead animals and lack of magical creatures was evidence enough – but the real question was, was he still? Merlin highly doubted it. He had a knack for recognizing dark magic because it always caused his own to recoil and squirm in disgust. The first time he'd met Severus Snape, for example, he'd known the man was a Death Eater; perhaps no longer by choice, but the sinister magic of his Dark Mark was easy to detect.
But, while wickedness permeated the air of this section of the forest like the plague, it was not potent enough to suggest that Voldemort still lived here. A sickening dread entered Merlin's stomach and he feared that the evil wizard was on the move. But even if he wanted to continue his search, Merlin didn't feel he had the time. It was more pressing to return to Dumbledore and tell him what he'd found. He also was beyond anxious that he'd left the Sorcerer's Stone in Gringotts for so long. While he knew his protection charm was still in place, he couldn't help but feel wary.
Something just didn't feel right about all of this.
Pulling out the power stone, Merlin concentrated on the village of Hogsmeade and transported. By the time he reached his destination, the power stone was nearly empty. Winded, Merlin took a moment to take several deep breaths before pocketing the stone and hastening to Hogwarts.
It was odd to be back in civilization and the smells coming from the Three Broomsticks were so tempting that Merlin almost turned unconsciously in that direction. But then he remembered his purpose and forced his appetite aside, hurrying onward. Reaching the castle and unlocked its doors, he entered and then strode towards the marble staircase. He didn't run into any of the teachers on his way and it wasn't until he reached the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's tower that he realized he no longer knew the password.
Frowning, he used the old tongue to command the stone to move and it obliged, the wall splitting apart to reveal the familiar revolving staircase behind. Mounting the stairs two at a time, Merlin reached the door and thrust it open. Dumbledore jumped at the sudden intrusion but his surprise transformed to concern and relief when he saw who it was that had so rudely disturbed his afternoon.
"Nicolas, I was beginning to think I would have to send an army out to look for you. You've been gone for over a month, my friend. Why, it's almost August!"
"I know," Merlin sighed, crossing the room and falling into the armchair in front of Dumbledore's desk. "It's been a rather taxing journey."
"Did you find anything?" Dumbledore eagerly asked.
"I think so, Albus, and it isn't good."
He then related his findings to the headmaster concerning the contaminated area of the Shebenik-Jabllanice National Park as well as his concerns of keeping the stone in Gringotts.
"I don't like it being there, Albus," he confessed. "I'd rather not have it there when I come back to school either – but I also don't feel safe keeping it with me. We know that Voldemort is obsessed with power and the Sorcerer's Stone is no secret. He's going to come after it and that could put Nellie in danger. Where can we keep it where it will be safe?"
"We'll hide it here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said at once, "where it will be guarded by various enchantments built by people we trust. Even if Voldemort were to breech the first few obstacles, we would learn of his attempt to get to the stone long before he could reach it and be able to thwart him."
Merlin's eyebrows rose and he blinked a few times before a chuckle escaped him.
"Just how long have you been planning this?"
"Oh, since about the time you left and put the stone in Gringotts," Dumbledore mused, his eyes twinkling.
"Why am I not surprised? I assume you have a list of people you believe are trustworthy to make the enchantments."
"Indeed I do." He ruffled a few papers around on his desk before finding the parchment he was looking for. "Ah, here we are."
He held it out to Merlin who took it and read off the list of names, instantly approving of each candidate. Nodding to himself, he looked up at Dumbledore and sighed.
"Let me talk to Nellie about everything before we go ahead and implement this."
"Alright. But, Nicolas, I don't think you should be the one to retrieve the stone from the vault."
Merlin froze. "Why?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Harry Potter is returning to the Wizarding World this year. I would not be surprised if the reason Voldemort left the forest was to fix his failure. We know he is too weak to currently do anything – he needs more power than he presently has... I fear you are right, Nicolas; he might come after you. He may already be watching your every move, waiting for a perfect time to steal the stone. Let me handle the business of moving it here to Hogwarts. I promise it will arrive safely."
Merlin frowned in thought for a moment before consenting to Dumbledore's offer.
"Alright, Albus – but don't do anything until I talk to Nellie. I want her opinion."
"Don't make me wait too long, Nicolas. If Voldemort truly is on the move, it would do well for us to stay one step ahead."
"Indeed it would," Merlin agreed, his countenance dark. "Take care of yourself, Albus. I'll send you an owl as soon as I can."
Dumbledore nodded to him and the ancient warlock left the office, heading for home.