Chapter the Third: Merlindore

"Uh, Mister Albus Peviwolf, sir…"

"Yes, what is it boy?"

"Would you be able to show me some magic, sir? I mean, it can just be something small."

"Now Harry, there is a time and place for everything. Ho, watch your step this rock is slippery! Don't want you getting wet feet." Hopping from the last stone, I landed with a 'pliff' onto the leafy bank. A splash signaled that the boy didn't listen about the rock. "Yes, see, magic can not be done willy-nilly. Stop that laughing, Snapeamedes! Oh, just ignore him, Harry. Here, take my hand. That a boy." I pulled him onto the bank, his slick grip made me almost drop him into the creek all over again. Harry pushed away his wet mod of black hair from his eyes and put his round glasses rightfully back upon the bridge of his nose.

"Y-yes sir, sorry sir." The lad's eyes were downcast, too busy wringing out his tunic to look back at me.

"Don't be sorry, Harry. And don't call me sir. Albus would do just fine."

"I'm sorry Albus, sir…" His wet clothes hung in such a way it made him appear even skinnier. Snapeamedes ruffled on my shoulder and pecked at my ear.

"Alright, alright, I'll show you something, Harry. Just a trick of what the greatest wizard could do." I patted my robe, my sleeves, and then finally took my hat off my head. My hand searched around inside, but grabbed nothing. "Oh Dear, Snapeamedes, do you recall where exactly I put my wand?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you packed it away with your books," the raven said in a bored voice.

"I couldn't have!" I peeked inside my bag, and after shooing some of the books into the corner I found it. "You are always right about these things, my dear friend." Snapeamedes puffed out his chest, the feathers rising in pride. It only lasted a second, for soon he was back to preening his wing as if nothing happened. "Ah, seemed I shrunk it as well. This just won't do." Indeed, the wand was just a twig of a stick not nearly the length of my pink.

Harry gasped as I let go of the bag. He didn't gasp because I dropped it or anything, oh no. He gasped because it didn't drop. It stayed floating in midair, just were I left it.

I pinched each end of the wand and made to stretch it, but it just flexed and sprung back to its shrunken shape. "I say! Don't be stubborn now!" I pulled with all my might, and it did work. I'm afraid it also caused the now normal sized wand to shoot from my hands with a spark. It bounced from tree to tree, until finally hitting Snapeamedes square in the gut. The poor bird flew off with a squawk, disappearing in a poof of feathers. The wand landed in my hand with a soft 'plop'. Harry was smiling for the first time, although he was trying to hide his giggles behind his hand. His shaking shoulders threw off little drops of water.

"Sometimes it's a little irritable." I explained. His eyes light up even more. A 'humph' erupted from the trees. "Yes, I better make this quick, 'fore the sun sets. Lets see, lets see." I pushed my sleeves up and waved my wand with valor, more for show than necessity. "Arefacio!" Strikes of white and gold light twirled from the tip of the wand like smoke. They coiled and drifted to Harry, curling around his feet and swirling their way up his body. As the bands circled, slowly the wetness of the boy disappeared, until finally the magic reached his head and dried his hair into a puff of black locks.

"Harry," I couldn't hold back a chuckled at the dandelion of a boy, "you look like Snapeamedes after a bad dream!" With a shake of his head his hair fell back into it's messy state, all the strands in the same place as when we met just a while ago.

"T-thank you, Albus, sir." He looked at his hands in wonder, a small smile curving along his lips.

"Nothing to it, boy. Couldn't have you walking around at night all wet, bad for your health." And so we started to make our way back to the castle. After a few steps I stopped, and turned back to the creek. My bag was still drifting there by the bank. "Hem hem!" I called, and it whizzed through the air, returning to my side, where it stayed until we reached the castle at last.

When I use the word castle, I won't want you to be confused. It was not a castle glittering in the last light of the sun. There were no birds flying about singing their song, unless you count Snapeamedes and his complaining. This castle was not a palace. It was more of a fortress, made from slabs of now crumbled and cracked brown stones. The moat was half dried out, and all the boards of the draw bridge creaked as we walked across it. None of this bothered Harry, but the bird on my shoulder pointed out every tiny detail in full.

"It smells like hog hiss and cabbage, Ablus. You better not expect me to stay here. That window is so dirty, you can't even see out of it! I think I just got hit from something falling from the ceiling—Albus, are you listening to me?" I shushed the raven as we entered into the dining hall, where the fat knight sitting at the table could only be Sir Vernon. Or maybe it was his son, Dudley. They were both so red and bulky in size I had trouble telling.

"Um, Mister Albus?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Maybe you should take the twigs out of your beard before I introduce you to Sir Vernon."

"Why, maybe I should. There, I think I'm ready now. What are you waiting for?" Harry left my side and walked over to his bear of a guardian. His whispers did not reach this old man's ears, but the knights bellows did.

"What? A Magician? Have you been at them mushrooms again? How many demerits am I going to have to give you for you to learn your lesson?"

"But sir, I'm not—"

"Go to the kitchen, Harry! Those dishes have been piling up." Sir Vernon's thick blonde moustache wiggled as he shouted, parts of it flying up when spit expelled from his mouth. "Don't think I'll be needing any help from you to handle this 'wizard.'" Him and his son broke out in squealing laughter. When they were finished, Sir Vernon turned to me, still wiping the tears from his eyes. "Now, magic man, what can I do for yah?" I rolled my shoulders back, straitening up all the way to the point of my hat.

"Look here you," I marched out and poked his chest, "I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Merlindore the greatest Wizard of all England! NOT magic man! And if you don't mind, the tutor of young Harold."

"Tutor? TUTOR?" He sputtered a little, and slapped his hand onto the table as he broke out into another fit of laughter. "You'd be better off tutoring a potatoe. I got a whole sack of 'em downstairs, so all the more fun."

"Oohh, why you! Imperis Nix!" Blue sparks shot from my wand just above Sir Vernon's head, and from the sparks fell barrels of snow. "Now look at what you made me do," I said, straightening out my sleeves and tucking my wand back into my robe pocket. Sir Vernon's moustache swept from side to side like a little broom, sweeping off the snow from his lips.

"Well I'll be, look at this Dudley! Snow in July!"

"Big deal," the boy said, unphased.

"I suppose we could make room for you in the guest tower, Alvin." His chubby thumb pointed over his shoulder and out the only clear window. Framed by dirt brown stone was an even more dirty and crumbled tower with a large chuck of masonry missing. The top part was supported only by a plank of seemingly rotting wood. It looked ready to fall at the slightest wind.

"It's Albus," I huffed, and felt Snapeamedes feathers tickle my ear as he puffed up too.

"Yes, yes. I'll have Harry bring your bag up to you later."

"Don't bother," I turned up my nose, lifted my robes, and stormed out of there. My faithbul bag followed along silently.