Merlin and the Philosopher's Stone

He'd always known he was different. It's like knowing your own hair colour, except this he couldn't change. The sparks that coursed beneath his pale skin separated him from the world around him and so on his 11th birthday he was less than surprised to find an owl on his letterbox.

His mother was, to put it delicately, less than pleased with the new white paint job the box got that morning, but on seeing the shimmering green ink on yellowed parchment, Hunith's agitation changed to a curious combination of nerves and excitement. It took a grand total of three days to organise everything.
Day 1: Packing
Merlin had always been terrible at packing; undeniably the worst packer that ever existed. To pack, Merlin and Hunith decided, first they must acquire all he needed and worry about sorting it later. This proved more difficult than initially expected as Merlin's father, who died when Merlin was young, was the magical parent and so finding their way to Diagon Alley was, least to say, an interesting experience. Once conquered through innumerable phone calls to his father side of the family, Merlin Emrys and his mother found their way to the arcade of stalls and shops.
"Robe." Hunith said, after absorbing the zooming, whizzing and buzzing floating through the street.
"What?" Merlin muttered, being pulled back to reality.
"We need to get you a robe; for the year."
"It's a year Ma, I think more than one."
"Oh haha Merlin. Always thought yourself funny eh?"
"Quite." He murmured back, still not quite present in the conversation as his mother dragged him through the people and away from the brooms and twigs in a nearby stall-window.

Outside the shop, black, purple, green, (you name it) coloured robes lining the crystal-like shop window.
"I'll grab your..." Hunith paused, glancing back down at the list in her hand, "…cauldron, worms roo…look, I'll grab you some of the stuff from the shops around and meet you back here in half an hour and we'll go to the book shop," and with this she pulled Merlin into a (semi-)reluctant embrace. Squirming free she grinned at him before turning back and being absorbed by the crowd. Quiet, shy and too confused, Merlin entered the shop behind him and immediately wished his Ma was there. The walls were lined with framed photographs (that moved!) of people he didn't recognise in brightly coloured robes and pointed hats, while the free wall was taken over by racks upon racks of robes (of all colours). In a corner in the front of the room, there stood three raised platforms about a meter squared and a huge wardrobe filled with pitch-black robes of different sizes. Swallowing, Merlin stepped forward, trying to catch the attention of the woman between the isles on the opposite side of the room as the platforms.
"Erm…excuse me?" He murmured to the stale air. Peering back at him the rotund, cheery faced woman re-stowed the robes she was handling and came over.
"Hogwarts?" She asked happily. A brief head nod and Merlin was swept to the platforms, his coat removed and with his hands pointing at opposing walls he stood like a cross while she measured him. "That's it dear. Won't be a minute." She said, skuttering to the wardrobe and entering it, being enveloped by the black fabric. Shocked Merlin simply stared at the space she was absorbed by when the bell rung above the door. His head snapped to the entry-way as a platinum blond boy walked in (actually, walked isn't the correct word, more like arrogantly sachetted) and strode up to a platform looking a cross between bored and merciless. The sneering boy turned on Merlin, seeing his nervousness and unfamiliarity.
"Mudblood." The boy whispered, sending a penetrating glare at Merlin. Merlin, sure this was meant to be insulting, was completely and utterly confused and stared blankly ahead of him, waiting for the woman to come back with his robes. "You're not going to last." The boy continued. "Mudbloods'll be out of Hogwarts when Dumbledore is overrun. Mark my word, you won't last the year. As my father says…" The woman cut him off with her re-emergence into the room and the snarling boy looked forward again with a satisfied smirk.

"It's just being made, deary." The woman said passing Merlin and walking over to the other boy. Pausing half way over to him she diverted, heading to the wardrobe again. "What name was that again?"
"Oh. Ummm…Merlin Emrys…" The two stared simply at him, the woman turning and chuckling warmly to herself while the boy continued staring.
"Merlin Emrys. Hah…funny."
"What is?" Merlin replied sharply, turning shyly to the boy.
"That your name is Merlin. As in Arthurian Merlin and you're a filthy…"
"Here you are dear." Said the woman re-appearing from the cupboard, "just try this one on shall we." And with a fond smile she slid his thin arms into the arms and hitched it up to his shoulders. Falling heavily against his neck, Merlin glanced at the mirror beside him, pleased.
"It's a bit big around the body…hmmmm…ok then be back in a sec."
"But it's a perfect fit.." Merlin protested shyly,
"How sweet of you dear, but no, we'll make it a little snugger shall we. Aren't a big boy now, are you?" and with that she gently tugged the robe from Merlin and vanished behind the other robes before re-appearing and striding to the boy to measure him. Awkwardly, Merlin stood on the platform as the bell above the door dinged again and a small, black haired boy entered. Glancing past Merlin to the black robes around the room he looked as awkward as Merlin felt. While the boy's eyes flicked around the room, Merlin couldn't take his from the boy, so when his eyes found Merlin's, he was pierced by shocking emerald green biting Merlin's blue irises. Feeling the blush rush to his cheeks Merlin couldn't look away as the woman strode to the boy, leading him to the platform, the scar on his forehead glinting through his messy fringe.