CHAPTER 3 - he only wanted a butterbeer
The warlock and the King watched the trio disappear around the corner.
Arthur turned around to face Merlin, his arms folded, "Well," he sniffed, "before you decided to find a lost cat and meet the boy who vanquished Riddle, I was going to ask you why you are here," He tilted his head, "I didn't even think you were in England actually – hang on – yes! You said you were in Antarctica to talk to penguins or something!"
"Ah…no I came back a month earlier than originally planned," Merlin said in a dejected voice, plonking himself down on a nearby bench. "The emperor penguin soon realised I wasn't contributing to the making of any eggs, deemed me 'unsuitable and worthless' to the clan, then proceeded to abandon me on a large iceberg in the middle of nowhere." He sighed and put his head in his hands. Clearly this had been a traumatic experience.
"Righhhtt…." Arthur shook his head at Merlin's recent 'Pointless Quest', as he had come to dub them. They would never fail to amuse him. "So why are you here?"
"I'm bored."
"You're – bored? Merlin, I don't know, how about you do some painting? You like to do that don't you?"
"Um – no. I was an artist for more than half a century. If I see another canvas, I can't guarantee it won't explode in front of me."
"…Hang out with Kilgarrah then? You two haven't spoken for ages."
Merlin scowled. "No. I'm still angry with him remember."
"Merlin it's been nearly 4 years!"
"I don't care! I'm never going to forgive him for ea-"
"-nope!" Arthur interrupted, halting Merlin with a hand. "I don't have the patience to deal with your dramatics right now." He would never understand the Merlin-Kilgarrah relationship anyway. "Aithusa then?"
"Last I heard she was away counting the volcanoes in Iceland."
"…Why not be a student again? See if you can learn some more of this modern stuff."
"Oh no, no, no," Merlin shook his head maniacally. "I'm not de-aging myself again. I cannot deal with all the hormones and teenage drama. Especially with all that social media they have these days – the gossip has increased tenfold!"
Merlin shuddered at the memories. He had only turned into a teenager for a few days last year, but the experience left him scarred for eternity.
"…which is why I am going to become a professor as Hogwarts." He said, his eyes glinting with elation, "Thought I'd come and see how the next wizarding generation is getting on. I've already been to see Dumbledore, and he kindly offered me the history teaching position. It didn't quite go as smoothly as I would have liked, but I got the job anyhow."
Arthur rolled his eyes as Merlin simultaneously flashed his signature grin, "So, prat – Hogwarts. What do you think? You want to join me?" Merlin said.
"Me? Nah. Unlike you, I have an actual job, one that in fact I would like to keep."
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Whatever, you go back to teaching kids karate or whatever you do, I'm off to get some quills for the kiddies!"
"Ugh Merlin for the last time it's military training, not karate, honestly, I- aaand he's gone."
Merlin bungled though the crowd, sliding a handful of quills into his pocket that he had just purchased at Flourish and Botts. He would have conjured them up himself, but it seemed that every object created by him seemed dance whenever he came close and form its own personality. It wouldn't do good for a quill to refuse to get dipped in the ink just because the student using it had curly hair.
He reached the doorway of The Three Broomsticks; his desire for a butterbeer was becoming increasingly more dominant over all other thoughts.
Stepping inside, he was instantly engulfed into the pungent aroma of butterbeer and amenity. For a moment he just stood there, observing the witches and wizards sat at the tables - strangers exchanging tales, youngsters gossiping about the new couple, old friends laughing together as if they had never been apart. He felt the warm and neighbourly breath of humanity as it pervaded through the room – it breathed through every smile, every kiss, every hearty chuckle. He felt the heartbeat of the glowing candles, the jolly hum of conversation, the chortle of the flames in the fireplace. The place was truly alive.
The building was just a skeleton - the people were its blood, its oxygen, its heart. Merlin smiled gently, his mind drifting back to the days of dragging a drunk singing Gwaine back home from the tavern. Even back then, taverns buzzed with energy, happiness, friendship. It seemed as if nothing had changed.
"OW, YOU LITTLE- "
But, it seemed that, as with everything, his little moment of reminiscence and contentment was determined to linger no longer.
Another series of 'OW!'s and expletives erupted from all angles of the room.
Merlin sighed, begrudgingly using his Magic to monitor the happenings around him, hoping to find the cause. He looked down briefly to hide the field-gold tint in his eyes, feeling his Magic trickle to its location.
A swift flash of bright light zapped past.
Like a bullet.
Immediately launching into saving-mode, Merlin slowed time just enough to see the diminutive ball of fire making a beeline towards a group of drunken revellers. He gave the ball a gentle nudge with his magic, watching in slight satisfaction as it evaporated into the air.
Another flash invaded his vision, and this time Merlin's magic followed the thin trail of smoke to the culprit.
You've got to be kidding me.
For a moment Merlin almost walked out and went back to antarctica.
Life seemed to irritate and laugh at Merlin at every turn. Or perhaps it loved him – after all, it never seemed to leave him. But Merlin was almost certain it was the former – was a day of peace really too much to ask for?
In the midst of Merlin's half-sulking at the injustices of life, another fire ball hit a target. The bald-headed man screeched in shock, his hand hovering over the thumb-nail sized burn on his forearm. Merlin automatically reached out his golden threads to assess the damage, concluding in relief that it was nothing more than a slight sizzling of the surface layer or skin. It would heal in a day or two, but nevertheless he gave the skin a little bead of healing magic.
But as much as Merlin's sympathies reached out to the man, his annoyance and exasperation at the fire-ball shooter far overrode any other emotion.
And when Merlin got annoyed, even the sun seemed to seek protection by going behind the clouds.
"AITHUSA!" He roared, launching himself at the much-too-innocent looking dragon perched in the corner. She was currently cat-sized, so Merlin was able to lasso his hand around the dragon's tail. As soon as he had a firm grip, he disapparated them into a random location – a field.
Good.
Calling for help would be useless now.
Grinning smugly and evilly, he stood in the grass, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently as the dragon reluctantly reverted back to her natural grand size.
She had been blessed with a beautiful appearance – her pearl-like scales shone effortlessly in the sun; they were slotted perfectly into place on the dramatic curves of her stature. Her limbs were carved delicately but boldly as if she were a marble sculpture, and a slight pink hue was tinged around her crystal-blue eyes.
But the beauty and elegance she held were balanced out by a strong child-like curiosity and wonderment, and a habit of causing mischief wherever possible.
And if the triple goddess wasn't going to grant Merlin the ability of having a permanent death, then Aithusa surely was.
"So," he started, amusement dancing faintly behind his murderous expression, "shooting fireballs at humans now, are we?"
Well, at least she had the decency to look a little guilty.
"Aw, come on Merly!" An airy female voice whined. "It was just a little bit of fun! It's quite entertaining really, watching them squeal and jump over a harmless, tiny little burn. And I was super bored with Killy, all he ever does is give me vague cryptic advice on my life's choices, he never shares his food, claiming that I need to be 'independent and responsible for my own well-being', and he still calls me a hatchling. Plus I went to Iceland to count the volcanoes – and do you know what?"
"What," Merlin said tiredly, rolling his eyes.
"There was an odd number. An odd number Merlin! After counting hundreds, it ends on a bloody odd number!"
"How tragic," Merlin mumbled. "And," he continued, "how does this excuse harming humans?"
The pearl-white dragon slumped, her bright blue eyes glaring grouchily at her dragon lord. She looked very much like a child who had been caught red-handed drowning the kitchen in flour.
"What do you saaaay?" Merlin said in a singsong voice.
Aithusa continued glaring at Merlin.
He's just a petty little human, she thought, he can't make me do anything.
The petty little human's eyes flashed gold, and an army of tickling beetles marched up her skin.
"AHHHH!" Aithusa screamed, helplessly flicking the bugs of her side, "MER-MERLIN!"
She surrendered to the laughter threatening to boil out of her.
"Ok ok!" She gasped, "I'm sorry, I'm – AH! I'M SORRY! MERLY- GET THEM OFF! I'M SORRYYY!"
Merlin triumphantly flicked a finger, and the tickling beetles obediently clambered off the fuming creature, dissolving into the air once they reached the ground. He shook his finger accusingly at the dragon, "No more little tricks from you, madam," he said, and proceeded to disapparate back into Diagon Alley.
At least that was the plan.
"-HEY!"
Merlin stopped mid-disapparation, an eyebrow raised in question.
"Why have you got a stick in your pocket?" Aithusa asked, a little too eagerly for Merlin's liking, "You only get one when you are doing something interesting…"
"Hogwarts," Merlin said, "I'm going to teach there."
Merlin knew what was coming before she even said it.
"…can I come?"
"No."
She merely waggled her eyebrows. Well, as much as a dragon could.