First of all, thank you guys so much for the reviews! They really keep me going and they're very much appreciated.
Secondly, there's another important thing you should know: the Merlin you know from the HP doesn't exist. I'm destroying him. Obliterating him. Sorry. It's just more fun to make up things myself, you know?
Disclaimer: I do not own HP, nor Merlin.
Enjoy!
Chapter 2
The Great Hall was magnificent. That was the only word for it.
Merlin's jaw dropped in awe as he took in the sight of the castle's largest room. It was enormous, with four long tables in the main floor and one more on the upper level, at the front of the hall. Candles floated up near the ceiling, suspended in mid-air, flickering gently and filling the room with a gorgeous yellow glow.
And the ceiling. It was magicked to look like the night sky; yellow and white stars glittered up above, along with other colorful celestial sights.
It was magnificent. Simply magnificent. Merlin wondered who had performed the magic - the hall hadn't looked like this when he helped the Founders design and build it.
Albus, perhaps. He'd always been fond of the stars. Merlin remembered meeting the man in his younger years, a few years after he'd graduated from Hogwarts. He used to talk about astronomy all the time, and how it fascinated him. "I want to know all their secrets," he'd said one night, as they sat outside in front of his house in Nottinghamshire, blue eyes wistful and curious.
"Professor Emrys," Merlin heard, and looked up to meet those same eyes. They hadn't faded even in his age. Now, they were twinkling with amusement as he gazed at his old friend fondly, sitting at the table at the front of the room, along with the other professors. "I'm glad you could join us."
Merlin had the decency to blush, hurrying forward to the table. "I'm sorry, Albus," he apologized, once he reached it and stood in front of the Headmaster. "I mean, Professor Dumbledore."
Albus waved a hand. "Call me Albus, dear Marius." The hint of a grin appeared on the wizard's lips, a sparkle of laughter - it was like having an inside joke between the two of them. None of the other professors knew who Merlin was, or that the two men knew each other.
"Of course," Merlin replied, smiling as well.
"May I introduce to you your fellow staff members," he began. "You've already met Minerva, of course - she's with the first years now - as well as Severus. This here," he paused to gesture to a plump woman with a friendly, round face, "is Pomona Sprout, Professor of Herbology, head of Hufflepuff house."
Merlin met her eyes and gave her a polite smile, which she returned. He'd always felt that Hufflepuff was a bit underappreciated. It turned out some of the best wizards, including that clever lad Newt Scamander.
"This is Professor Filius Flitwick," he continued, nodding his head to a rather short, yet kind-looking man. "He teaches Charms."
And on he went, naming each professor until he reached the end of the table, ending on Madam Hooch, the Quidditch Instructor. They all seemed friendly enough, though many were eyeing him rather strangely.
Which was understandable, Merlin supposed. He did look quite young. He knew, however, from his many years of experience, that as long as he respected them and treated them courteously, they'd do the same.
Hopefully, he thought, glancing at Severus Snape.
As the odds would have it, he ended up sitting next to the fellow, with Pomona Sprout on his left.
"How many years have you been teaching?" he asked her. He'd stuck to his idea of mostly steering clear of any conversation with Severus for now - perhaps later, during the feast.
"36 years," she replied, in an appropriately tired-sounding tone.
"Wow," Merlin said. Sure, 36 years wasn't terribly long to him, but to spend that long around teenagers...Merlin nearly shuddered. There was a reason he'd never taken up teaching in all his long life. "I bet you've seen all kinds of crazy things, haven't you?"
Ponoma made a sort of pft sound, smiling lightly. "Oh, you have no idea, Marius."
Merlin grinned. He had the feeling he'd like her.
A few moments later, the muffled sound of feet reached his ears, and he saw the staff straighten up in their chairs, as if preparing themselves. Excitement bubbled up within him once more; he'd never been around so many magic users before, at least for an extended period of time. Even the great druid tribes that flourished after Guinevere had legalized magic were smaller in numbers than the school.
With a great creaking sound, the enormous wooden doors opened, and a flood of students poured into the halls. All dressed in robes, they hurried to their respective house tables, chatting and laughing as they took their seats.
Merlin smiled at the sight, warmth filling his body. Whenever he was around a large number of witches and wizards, his magic reacted, almost as though it had emotions of its own.
Right now, it was happy - rejoicing, almost, invigorating him and filling him with energy. Merlin willed it to calm down, reigning it it within his mind. He couldn't risk having any teachers notice a flash of gold in his eyes.
A few minutes passed, the Hogwarts students talking excitedly as they waited for the first years. Merlin was talking with Ponoma about his home in Nottinghamshire when the doors opened once more, and the first years walked in.
Merlin grinned as he took in their awed expressions, no doubt the one he'd been wearing not long ago. One boy even jumped up and down, unable to contain his excitement. His friend lightly punched him on the shoulder.
Led by Minerva, the first years gathered in a small crowd at the base of the stairs that led to the table. In front of the table was a small, wooden stool, on top of which was a raggedy, old, pointed hat.
The Sorting Hat. Of course. Merlin hadn't even noticed it. He'd been the one to enchant it, a somewhat difficult process that had taken a few hours to perfect. Perhaps he would have a conversation with it later - he was most curious to hear what it had to say.
Thought - it seemed he might get a few now. The Sorting Hat's mouth opened wide, and began to sing.
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;
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You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffis are true And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
Merlin grinned as he clapped, shaking his head. He'd forgotten about the Sorting Hat's tendency to burst into song. He was willing to bet that the Hat spent the entire year making up those tunes.
As Minerva explained the sorting process to the students, Merlin searched the horde of students for the one he'd come to Hogwarts for.
Harry Potter.
After a few seconds, he found him, near the back. He couldn't see the boy that well, but he knew it was him. He could just tell, somehow.
"Abbott, Hannah," Minerva called. A nervous-looking girl with blonde hair and blue eyes walked shakily up the steps and took a seat upon the stool. Minerva placed the hat over her head.
A few seconds passed. Then, "HUFFLEPUFF!"
Merlin grinned, clapping for the girl as she hopped off the stool and hurried over to her table, smiling in relief.
He wondered what house the girl had been afraid of being sorted into. The system had always seemed a bit strange to Merlin. Sure, he'd enchanted the hat, but the idea of houses hadn't been his idea. Rather, it was the Founders who'd suggested it. Personally, he found it odd; after all, everyone had a different personality. You couldn't just shove people into categories.
He just hoped that the rivalry wasn't too bad between houses. It wouldn't do to have magic users disliking each other due to nothing more than living in common rooms with different names.
Minerva continued calling out names. Most students, like Hannah, looked nervous and anxious. A boy named Neville Longbottom was shaking like a leaf when he sat down, nearly whimpering when the hat was placed over his head. Nevertheless, the boy, after nearly five minutes, was sorted into Gryffindor, and hurried over to his table, grinning wildly, hat still on his head.
Draco Malfoy, a haughty-looking boy with white-blonde hair, became the first Slytherin. Merlin looked over at the table and sighed, watching the boy proudly take his seat. He'd never really known what to make of the Slytherins, to be honest. They were certainly overly stereotyped - not all dark witches and wizards were from Slytherin, and he'd known some great people who'd been in Slytherin - but many of the children there strongly believed in blood purity, a concept that disgusted Merlin to his very core. The idea that magic should only be taught to those who had it within their families was, frankly, ludicrous. Many magic users of the Old Religion were self-taught, back when such a thing was possible. The idea of muggle-borns and pure-bloods and the like didn't mean anything when it came to how gifted a witch or wizard was.
Merlin shoved the thoughts away. He'd deal with all that later.
"Potter, Harry!" Minerva called, and the Great Hall went dead silent. Merlin straightened up in his chair, and from the corner of his eye, saw Albus do the same.
The boy was small, Merlin noticed. He had messy, jet-black hair and startling green eyes, hidden behind round glasses.
Wow, Merlin thought in amazement. He looked almost identical to his father. Merlin had never met James, or his wife, Lily - all his Order work had been behind the scenes - but he'd seen photographs. The resemblance was uncanny, excluding the emerald eyes that belonged to his mother.
Harry, like many others, seemed rather nervous as he climbed the steps. Before he sat down on the stool, however, he shook his head imperceptibly, squared his shoulders, and schooled his features into one of fragile bravery.
Then, he sat down, and the hat went over his head.
Merlin wasn't particularly concerned with where the boy ended up. The houses, as stated before, weren't terribly important to him, and didn't define who the students were, or who they'd turn out to be.
He couldn't, however, deny that the he was curious.
Long seconds passed. The Great Hall seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the occasional whispering of students and rustling of robes.
Harry's suddenly let out a breath of a relief. "GRYFFINDOR!" The hat called a split second later, and the young boy's face broke out into a grin. Taking the hat off and setting it on the stool, he bounded towards his house table amid a smash of thunderous applause.
"WE GOT POTTER, WE GOT POTTER!" shouted two red-haired, identical twins, standing up and clapping enthusiastically, along with their classmates.
Merlin looked over at Albus to see the Headmaster smiling lightly, clapping as he met Harry Potter's eyes.
He's probably thrilled, thought Merlin. After all, Gryffindor was his own house. He put a little more stock into houses than Merlin did, though not completely - Albus was one of the least judgemental people Merlin had ever met, and resented stereotypes almost as much as he did.
But he was no doubt happy about Harry's sorting - if not for his own sake, then for Harry's. A Harry Potter in Slytherin would have been damn near disastrous for the wizarding world. Even Merlin knew that.
When the sorting was finally finished, Minerva took her place at the head table and Albus went to stand at the podium at the top of the stairs.
"Welcome," he called out, spreading his arms wide, "to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."
With that, the Headmaster sat down, smiling. Merlin clapped, grinning at the confused looks on the faces of the first years. They'd soon discover that their Headmaster was a wonderfully strange man, if they hadn't figured it out already.
Delighted gasps resounded throughout the hall as food appeared on the tables and their goblets filled with pumpkin juice. Merlin smiled, immediately digging into his food. He was famished, not having eaten since early this morning.
He mostly chatted with Pomona throughout the feast. He learned all about Herbology, and how severely underappreciated it was. Merlin couldn't help but agree. Plants were extremely vital when it came to certain forms of magic, especially the world of potions and certain spells of the Old Religion. He'd learned to use them quite frequently, and knew a great deal about them and their properties.
Though, from what this woman, was saying, it seemed a real possibility that she knew more than he did. The thought was actually a happy one.
Eventually, the students and staff were full, unable to eat anymore, and the food disappeared, gone in the blink of an eye. Dumbledore stood up once more, returning to his podium.
"Now that we are all fed and watered," he announced, "I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First of all, I would like to remind all of you that the forest on the grounds in forbidden. A few of our older students would care to remember that." He glanced in the direction of the two red-haired twins from earlier, eyes twinkling in amusement.
"Also, I would like it to be known that the third floor is out of bounds to all who do not wish to die a most painful death."
Merlin would've laughed - Albus certainly had a flair for the dramatic - if he hadn't known the reason. The Philosopher's Stone.
Albus had told him about it when Merlin had appeared in his home. Albus feared the Voldemort might use it in an attempt to return, and had hidden it in the castle, behind a series of tests and enchantments.
Merlin wasn't sure this was the best form of security. Kids were often cleverer than adults assumed.
However, he trusted Albus's judgement, for the most part, and besides - Hogwarts had him now. Not to be arrogant, but he doubted any student would be breaking into the third floor under his nose.
"Finally, as many of you know, a new required subject is being taught this year to all students - The Old Religion. An ancient form of magic, it is no longer used, but it has a fascinating history and can offer much insight into our modern forms of magic. It will be taught by our new teacher, Professor Marius Emrys."
Albus gestured to him, and Merlin stood up, smiling at the students and offering a little wave.
"Your Head Girls and Boys, as well as your Prefects, will direct you to your respective common rooms. Now, off you trot!"
With that, the professor once again took his seat, and the students began filing out of the hall.
Merlin waited until all the teachers had gone to their chambers before approaching Albus, still sitting in his seat at the table. Merlin pulled out a chair and sat next to him.
"You seemed happy about Harry Potter's Sorting," Merlin said, grinning.
Albus smiled. "Relieved, more than anything," he admitted. "He will do well there, I believe."
Merlin nodded. "Certainly. He'll find good friends there."
"I hope so," Albus replied, eyes flashing with concern. "I believe he was...quite lonely, living with the Dursley's."
"Maybe he'll find a home here," Merlin suggested. "Lots of kids have, though not all of them…"
He trailed off, not wanting to go down that train of thought.
"Tom Riddle," Albus filled in for him. "I know. I can only hope I won't fail Harry as I did that boy."
Merlin shook his head and laid a hand on Albus's shoulder. "What happened to Tom is not your fault. I know how you feel - I know you think it's your burden to bear, but it's not. For years, I…" he trailed off once more, sighed deeply. "For years I blamed myself for Morgana. For what happened to her. Hundreds of years. It took me forever to realize that some people can't be saved. At least, not from themselves." He gave Albus a comforting smile. "Don't dwell on the past, Albus. You can't change it."
Albus nodded, standing up and letting out a deep breath. "Thank you, Merlin," he said, blue eyes shining appreciatively. "You give wonderful advice, my dear friend."
"No problem," Merlin replied, grinning. "If you need any more, just let me know." He tapped his temple. "I've got all kinds of rubbish up here."
Albus chuckled. "I'm sure," he said. "Goodnight, Merlin."
"Goodnight, Albus."
When he got back to his chambers, Merlin immediately collapsed onto his bed, exhausted. It was so strange, being so immersed in the world of magic.
It was almost like old times.
Smiling, Merlin closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
...so, did you like it? Hate it? Let me know in a review! :D