Merlin has always been the greatest wizard in history. However, he never taught his magic to anyone else; he buried his power along with his name. But what if he found the perfect student to teach? And what it was little Harry Potter?
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The Student of Merlin By SeraphZero
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Chapter 2: Variations of a Theme
"A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step"
- Lao Tzu
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"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE WAS TAKEN!"
Very rarely has Albus Dumbledore been angry. Normally, the old wizard was wise enough to predict the outcome of events, including the fall of Voldemort at the hands of little Harry Potter. However, the turn of events described by Hagrid was more than unexpected. For a peaceful wizard like Albus, his anger could only stem from some inhumane deed committed by Voldemort or his Death Eaters. However, this time he misplaced his rage on one of his oldest friends.
Hagrid was taken back by Dumbledore's uncharacteristic outburst. He had just arrived at Privet Drive on a flying motorcycle that he borrowed from Sirius Black. He came only to deliver the bad news to Dumbledore and McGonagall, as Hagrid could not accomplish his previous task of retrieving Harry. He was slightly afraid; after all, if the Headmaster of Hogwarts was shocked by the news, then it must have been bad. VERY bad.
"I was sayin' that lil' Harry was taken. Somebody who said he was Merlin 'imself!"
Dumbledore did not even flinch under the burly man's outrageous testimony. His blue eyes did not twinkle; his eyelids were heavy as he sighed. "By the gods, I hope little Harry was not taken by a Death Eater..."
Hagrid was becoming irritated. "I said that tha' wizard said he was Merlin! Maybe it was 'im, Dumbledore, sir!"
Professor McGonagall turned to the gamekeeper of Hogwarts, a look of sadness on her face. "That's perposterous, Hagrid. You know that Merlin couldn't have done this."
The half-giant's beetle-black eyes conveyed his honesty. "I'm tellin' ya, sir! It coulda been 'im! I mean, he jus' apparated in an' out like that! An' he had big blue robes an' his eyes were all twinkly, like your's, sir!"
A look of deep thought had appeared on Dumbledore's features. He was always an open-minded man, and the fact that this news was coming from a close friend meant it needed serious observation. His eyes widened in realization as he remembered the legends of Merlin; the great sorceror who was said to have died with his wife in an unknown cave beneath Merlin's Mound (as it is known today). However, the legends also told of how he knew a powerful spell that could restore youth, thus delaying death. The spell could be used numerous times; if Hagrid was right, then the spell did indeed exist and Merlin had indeed been using it to prolong his life after hundreds of years. Still, why would he want Harry...?
The answer struck Dumbledore like a bolt of lightning. If Harry survived the Avada Kedavra, then some of Voldemort's magic must have been transferred to the baby boy. And if the legends about Merlin's final prophecy were true...
Of course, there's still the possibility of the man being nothing more than a Death Eater claiming to be Merlin in order to scare Hagrid, thought Dumbledore.
Breathing heavily, the Headmaster of Hogwarts addressed McGonagall and Hagrid. "We will take our leave. There is nothing else we can do for now."
Professor McGonagall adjusted her spectacles in surprise. "But surely there is something! Maybe if we contacted the Aurors..."
Albus looked at her, his eyes once again twinkling. "On the contrary. I do not think that it will be necessary."
"But what about the papers? This is serious news we have to consider, Albus!"
Dumbledore began to walk off, ready to return to Hogwarts. "We will tell them the truth. Harry defeated Voldemort and is currently under the custody of another wizard."
McGonagall and Hagrid began to follow him, Hagrid bringing the motorcycle along. "But what wizard, sir?" asked Hagrid.
The wizard turned to face his two friends. "For Harry's sake, we will not answer that question. If asked why, we claim that it is for his safety."
And so, the three of them walked off, leaving Privet Drive and returning home. While two of them worried about the future of the Boy Who Lived, Dumbledore just sighed, ready to wait as long as it took for the child to resurface.
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Merlin was not only a great wizard, but also a prophet. Existing on the different wavelength of time, the ageless wizard foretold of many things through his visions. He would proclaim of battles won and battles lost, victories and defeats, births and deaths. However, since the death of Arthur, he had forsaken his gift of prophecy, hoping to never again witness the events that make history. But he left his mind open for accepting one more vision and one vision alone: the birth of a child whose power would be enough to rival his.
The logic behind it was simple: this child would possess the magical skill necessary to make himself as ageless as he. That way, Merlin would never fear the consequences of the boy's death; he would be able to pass on all that he knew to the gifted child without worry of emotional loss. No matter how great he may be, Merlin was still human. The feelings of fatherly love he had grown for Arthur caused his old heart to break when he died. In the end, he had chosen to give the gift of youth and agelessness to his wife, whom he entered seclusion with. Now he found his new pupil, whom he knew would be strong enough to live as long as he. It was a selfish desire, but after years of service toward saving England, he felt he deserved it.
It was strange for Merlin to begin teaching Harry. Although the wizard knew how to educate the boy academically and philosophically (since he cared for Arthur as a child), he did not know where to start when it came to training him in magic. He had only taught his magic to one other, the Lady of the Lake. However, she was already gifted in magic, and to this day Merlin regrets it for reasons he'd rather forget about. Still, this was a child he was educating; he knew that if the proper values were placed, he would grow up to be a virtuous man.
He knew how to teach life lessons to a child. Magic, on the other hand, required more finesse...
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Harry was 4 years old when Merlin began to teach him about the concepts of magic in general. He tried to talk to the boy about the elements, the planes, the three constants, and how it all worked together in the universe. Harry, being a normal 4 year old boy, didn't understand any of it. As a matter of fact, he fell asleep halfway through his teacher's lecture. This frustrated Merlin to no end, yet it strengthened his resolve as well.
Still, the wizard had learned a great deal about patience in his lifetime. In order to make him understand, the great wizard made Harry perform magical tasks.
"Ok, Harry, I want you to point your finger at the candle, close your eyes, and think very hard about fire. Picture fire in your mind; imagine it as best as you can. Do you understand?"
Harry nodded enthusiatically, ready to appease his mentor. He did as he was told, thinking as hard as he could about fire. He thought about the heat, the reddish-yellow color that made it, and how it seemed to dance in the darkness of his home...
Merlin jumped in surprise as the entire candle was set ablaze. The burning wax fell to the rocky ground of the cave like a miniature meteor. Eventually, a few of the decorations that Merlin and Nimue had set up in the cave began to ignite as well. Frantically, Merlin began casting water spells to put out the flames, yelling at Harry to stop thinking.
Nimue entered the room to see what all the commotion was about. She became enraged at her husband, the greatest wizard in the entire world, for letting a little boy nearly burn down their home.
Harry hung his head low, expecting to be punished for nearly burning down their cave. Merlin, on the other hand, was quite happy once he put out all the fires.
He beamed at his student, eyes glittering with pride and content. "I'm very proud of you, Harry! You did it! You used magic!"
Unfortunately for him, his wife didn't think so. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU LET A CHILD PLAY WITH FIRE! OF ALL THE IRRESPONSIBLE..."
Harry giggled as Merlin tried to avoid the wrath of his wife.
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The cave, despite being a cave, was quite a nice home. It was hidden under Merlin's Mound, which recently became a tourist attraction due to the mythos behind it. The formation was carefully guarded by ancient magic seals that made it invisible to the wizarding community. There were no doors, since Merlin didn't want anyone to enter the hidden cave. The only entrance was sealed by a large boulder that Merlin conjured up. Luckily, there were plenty of air holes within the rock formation that let in an abundance of sunlight as well, giving numerous plants the opportunity to thrive at the edges of the cave. Although the walls and floors were stone, the space within the cave was quite large and luxurious. The walls were decorated with various ornaments that Merlin had created, while a soft velvet rug covered the living room ground. Bookshelves adorned the cozy home, filled with numerous books on magic, history, folk lore, and general knowledge. There were beds as well; nice, big, fluffy beds that little Harry loved to jump on when his mentor wasn't watching. Merlin always wondered why the springs of the beds kept on breaking since he transfigured them out of rocks.
The most impressive addition, however, was a kitchen. Merlin, being a man who lived from future to past, knew of the wonderful delights that technology had created. However, he felt there was no need for them until Harry came along. In order to present his pupil with as much knowledge as he could, the prophet conjured up several inventions of the 20th century. Although he was able to create a television, a radio, and several other common household items, Merlin rarely used them himself as a habit, letting Harry do what he wanted with the strange contraptions. On the other hand, his wife found the modern way of cooking to be quite useful; even though Merlin could easily create food with a wave of his hand, Nimue still wanted to cook with the interesting cookware of the modern world. Besides, there weren't a lot of things one could do in a cave. Often, the rotating of food in a microwave entertained the ageless woman for hours, leaving the rest of the family with overcooked dinners.
Every night, Merlin would conjure up various images of the present world for his pupil. Harry learned all he could about the places outside of the cave; he became smarter when it came to life despite being sheltered from most of it. However, Harry's academic processes were incredible; living in an environment of constant learning gave the boy a natural ability for reading, writing, thinking, adapting, and improvising quickly. He grew up to be a scholarly child, superior than a normal child in knowledge and thought.
Merlin enjoyed helping Harry's mind grow. Using the same "lessons" that he taught to a young boy named Arthur, the ageless master of magic trasformed his student into various animals in order to teach him about life. Everything from squirrels to fish, Harry was transformed into the woodland creatures that inhabited the forest surrounding Merlin's Mound. Even when it came to the birds and the bees, Harry had to become a bird and a bee in order to understand it all (saving Merlin many of hours of embarassing lectures). With Merlin to guide him, the Boy Who Lived grew in maturity, learning about the joys and pains of life through the eyes of other animals. Many of his philosophies of the world stemmed from these experiences; each tranformation helped Harry learn more about the world despite experiencing it as another species.
What most impressed Merlin was Harry's magic. Except for the incident involving fire, Harry became an exceptional wizard under Merlin's standards. The ancient wizard tutored the young raven-haired boy in the ancient magics of his time. Harry became accustomed to chanting spells at a young age; later, he became powerful enough to perform basic magical tasks with hand gestures. Harry became proficient in spells and charms that every modern-day wizard knew, most of which he mastered at a young age. He was still a child, though; although Merlin's tutelage was the greatest of all time, Harry was still too young to achieve the same demigod-like status of his teacher.
The magic Harry had the most difficulty with was Merlin's ancient arts. Elemental spells were a favorite of Harry's; lighting things on fire provided hours of entertainment for the boy (while it was his teacher who received the wrath of Nimue). Although he couldn't create blazing hailstorms of sulfur and brimstone, the Boy Who Lived was quite good at making hand-size balls of fire and strands of electricity. Manipulating nature came more easily to the boy; making flowers grow and vines move came quickly to the young wizard. Mind magic was just as fun for the child; Harry nearly drove his surrogate mother to the brink of insanity when he learned how to cast levitation spells with his thoughts (to this day, she's still looking for her favorite aquamarine necklace). Merlin also devulged his secret arts of conjuring to his pupil; however, the boy usually conjured only half of things (which freaked Harry out when he tried to create a frog), forcing him to master transfiguration instead. Although he was still too inexperienced and young to use his abilities perfectly, Merlin told him that as he grew and practiced, his powers would grow as well. When the time came, the legendary sorceror tried his best to show the Boy Who Lived how to summon spirits and beasts.
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Harry was 9 when Merlin told him about summoning spirits and beasts. "You see, Harry, all creatures and spirits exist on a singular wavelength. This wave, you see, is known as the spark of life. Even spirits are alive, to some extent; otherwise they would be on the other side of existence instead of here."
Harry nodded in understanding. Although he was quite young, living in an environment of constant education made him quite mature. Even though he loved to have fun playing around with magic (which made most nights in the cave far more interesting than Nimue wanted) and eating sweets (which Merlin never taught the boy for his own good yet he still figured it out), the plethora of knowledge that formed his daily routine gave him the mind of a scholar. His body wasn't very fit; he was a bit thin, but a good nutrition kept him from becoming frail and weak. He still had a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead and his glasses were small and silvery, made by Merlin as a gift. His hair, oddly enough, was quite messy; not even magic was able to completely tame it (much to Nimue's dismay and Merlin's surprise). He had a charming face that was always relaxed, and his emerald eyes constantly twinkled with wisdom and understanding.
Today, Merlin and his student had teleported (since Apparating was detectable by the Ministry of Magic, Merlin knew) to the outskirts of the forest that Merlin's Mound was located in. He cast his invisibility spell over them to keep the tourists from finding them. They sat with their legs crossed on the fresh grass, both dressed in robes of blue and green.
"Ok Harry, I'm going to explain this once. Then I'm going to show you. First, close your eyes and focus on the spiritual wavelengths around you. Then, concentrate on a specific beast or spirit you know of or want. Try to create an image of what you're looking for in your mind. Now, with your outstreched arm, focus that image into your arm and onto the spiritual wavelengths. You will be able to summon specific beasts that you know of or are in the area by tapping into the wavelength. However, it requires intense concentration and immense power, depending on the power and tameness of the beast you want. For example, I'm going summon a bird."
Harry watched on as Merlin raised his arm into the sky, eyes closed as his face contorted into one of deep concentration. The Boy Who Lived watched, observing the older wizard's still form. Suddenly, the ancient sorceror struck the ground with his right hand outstretched. Tiny glowing runic symbols poured out from each of his fingertips into the ground. Harry broke away from his observation as a large structure suddenly flew by, casting a huge shadow over him and his guardian. It drew Harry's attention, making him look up in the sky. His eyes widened at the sight of a giant bird flying toward the ground. The resulting wind nearly knocked the lightweight boy off the ground, causing him to shield his eyes from the sand and debris. His mouth went slack when the wind finally died down and he saw the bird.
Its pristine, jet-black plummage reflected the sunlight as well as a mirror. The huge wings rivaled most of the smaller trees in terms of size. The beautiful mane of silvery feathers on the back of its head glittered. Its indigo eyes glowed as it cawed with its large, silvery beak. Silver talons dug into the grassy ground with ease. Merlin opened his eyes and smiled at the creature.
"Harry, say hello to Zephyr. He is a silverbolt, a mystical kind of bird that is large enough to transport wizards who can't teleport...or who just enjoy a little bit of flying."
Harry stood up and edged slowly toward the massive bird. He raised his right arm tentatively, hoping that his hand would stop trembling before it made contact with the bird's ebony coat. As Harry felt its plummage and stroked it, Zephyr cawed in delight. Harry, however, panicked and pulled his hand back. Merlin chuckled, running his hand over his youthful dark hair.
"Relax, Harry. He likes you."
The Boy Who Lived sighed in relief and returned to petting the bird.
After a few minutes of talking about Zephyr, the silverbolt flew off since it had no task to carry out. The two wizards sat down once again, Merlin waiting patiently while Harry began to summon. Imitating his mentor, Harry thrust his outstretched right hand onto the ground, runic symbols flowing from his fingertips. Although Merlin paid attention to his pupil, he did not take heed of the runics.
A few minutes had passed by and the old magician had yet to sense the presence of any beast or animal. He continued to wait.
That was when the ground started to tremble.
Merlin knew that it was impossible for an earthquake to occur since he would have known about it beforehand. However, as he began to detect a strange energy pattern in the wavelengths of life, the wise old wizard gasped as he finally realized what was happening.
Harry was summoning somthing that was neither beast nor animal. Apparently, the boy was concentrating so hard that he lost focus of what he wanted. Instead of calling forth some mystical animal or beast, the Boy Who Lived had been calling on a description.
That was when Merlin decided to get up and face what he knew was going to appear.
The ground itself parted, creating a large chasm in the forest. The trees rumbled, and the animals ran away in hoped of distancing themselves from the approaching problem. Harry, who was still concentrating and focusing on pouring magic from his hand, was oblivious to the scene.
Suddenly, it appeared. Its monstrous tail ripped through the ground and whipped into the sky. However, the tail was made up of nothing but decaying yet razor-sharp bones. The torso and hips appeared before the large skeleton finally exploded through the ground and into the forest.
The beast was immense. The ribs of the monster were bigger than most small trees. Giant bony claws tore the ground up, leaving chaos and decay in their wake. The giant, saber-toothed skull was narrow, with horns sticking out of everywhere. It raised its massive head with its long bony neck, outstretching the four claws that it used for support. A pair of bat-like arms were attached to its spine, as though it originally had wings before it decayed into a pile of bones.
ROOOOOOOOWWWWRRRRR!
Merlin would've been very impressed by Harry if he wasn't preparing to stun the thing. Harry was still concentrating, neither realizing what he just did nor feeling the power he just called forth.
He had summoned a dragon, Merlin concluded. A dragon "grave", since it was actually a reanimated skeleton. The boy meant to summon some ferocious beast, but his train of thought turned from the beast to just ferocious. He concentrated too much power into awakening something ferocious, thus summoning the dead spirit of a dragon that once lived in the forest. The runics that poured out into the stream of life called not for an existing spirit in the region, but for the most powerful one that lived there. Apparently, the once-living dragon was the most ferocious beast that lived in the forest.
The undead dragon began to move toward Harry, ready to greet its master until Merlin intervened.
"SNAP OUT OF IT, HARRY! GET OUT OF THE WAY!"
Harry stopped concentrating, knowing that his summon was complete. He would have been happy judging from the nasty roar his summon emitted; however, he regretted its success as soon as he opened his eyes.
"AHHHHH!"
Running out of the way as the reanimated dragon grave approached him, Merlin put his arms forward, palms open, as he began to focus.
Another rumbling began to occur. Before the dragon reached Harry, the ground beneath the behemoth opened up, a gaping hole immediately growing in size below the creature. Jagged teeth made of mud and stone appeared at the edges of the pit, and the earth around it melted into quicksand, further enveloping the monster. With its limbs and body quickly sinking underground, the dragon tried to beat its wings, hoping to fly away; however, its wings were decayed, leaving it with nothing but useless bones. It uttered a final, horrible cry before the ground closed up, swallowing the behemoth whole.
Merlin sighed in relief, putting his arms down. The Boy Who Lived, however, was breathing quite quickly. He was trembling, his eyes were wide, and subconciously his body continued to move further and further back from where he was sitting. He looked up at his teacher, fear written all over his face.
The old wizard smiled at Harry. "I'm proud of you, m'boy."
Harry smiled timidly at Merlin before he fainted, scared out of his wits.
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Despite the incredibly dangerous feat that Harry accomplished, Merlin still chided him into summoning. However, the Boy Who Lived began to fear his own power. After all, not too many children could summon dragons at the age of 9 and still live to tell about it.
Harry was subconciously traumatized by that event, despite the sheer amount of pride Merlin had for him. He became adamant in his desire to postpone his summoning lessons; the idea of something more sinister appearing was too frightening for the little boy. When the ageless wizard asked his pupil to summon something else, Harry would either refuse to do so or pretend to try for his mentor's sake. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he summoned a living dragon with working wings.
Over the years Harry had asked his teacher and surrogate father many questions. Although there was nothing he could ask that the legendary magician couldn't answer, two questions happened to be the hardest for Merlin to explain to the little boy. First, there was the "wizard" question...
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"Father, how come we can do magic but the people I see on the the telly and read about in those books can't?"
Merlin looked at his 6-year-old charge with a bright expression. "That's because they aren't wizards, Harry. You see, magic folk are special. Boys who can do magic are called wizards, and girls who can do magic are called witches."
Harry, who was sitting on the rug of the living room, gave his teacher a confused look. "Does that mean you're a wizard too?"
For a moment, Merlin hesitated. Drawing in a deep breath, he turned to his pupil with a serious look on his face. "No, I am not. I was, once. But I am no longer a wizard."
Harry became even more confused. "But you can do magic! What are you then, Father?"
Merlin's face was still serious. "I am a man, Harry. A man who has died a thousand times, yet lived a thousand and one. I am a thinker, who questions all that he is, was, and ever shall be. I am a dreamer, who wishes, wants, and hopes for a better future. I am a witness to all that has happened, is happening, and will happen. I am a wanderer, who has traveled around this world too many times to count. I am a listener of stories, and a teller of tales. I am a servant of my people, and a master of my destiny. Above all, I am a teacher, who has the greatest student any man could ever ask for." And with that, he smiled at Harry.
The Boy Who Lived just stared at the great Merlin. He blinked. "So...you're not a wizard."
Merlin suppressed the urge to laugh. He nodded his head, hoping to contain his amusement from the boy who wanted a serious answer.
Harry turned his head, this time looking at the ground. "Then what am I?"
The wizard walked over to the boy and sat down with him. "You are you, Harry. That is all that matters. Whatever you want to be, you can be. You choose what you want to be, not what others tell you to be."
The boy turned his innocent head toward his surrogate father. "But...I can do magic and so can you. Why wouldn't we be called wizards?"
Merlin sighed. "Because a wizard does nothing but parlor tricks with a wave of a wand. A wizard is biased toward the opinions of the magic folk or the non-magic folk. A wizard is nothing more than a title that has existed far too long. No, Harry, we are not wizards. We are better than that."
Once again Harry looked confused. "Why are we better?"
The great magician just smiled his ever-knowing smile. "Because we don't do parlor tricks, Harry. We do real magic. We do the kind of magic that helps people, not to make our lives easier. I taught you my magic because I wanted to pass my power on. Hopefully, you will grow up to use that power to help people like I did, once."
Harry tilted his head to Merlin. "But you said I could be anything I wanted to be. Now I have to help people?"
The ageless one did not waver. "I said you could be what you wanted to be. But I know you, Harry. I know you want to help others. That is one of the many things you and I have in common. You can choose to be anything, but I know you'll choose to do good for the world."
The raven-haired child was no longer confused. He nodded with a smile. "Of course I wanna help people! Just like you, Father!" Another look of curiosity adorned the boy's face. "Who did you help?"
The now-young sorceror sighed once again, predicting that it would be a long night. "Well, Harry, a long time ago I once aided a man named Arthur Pendragon..."
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However, the most difficult discussion occurred on Harry's 10th birthday...
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"Come on, honey! Aren't you going to make a wish?"
Merlin and Nimue watched in anticipation as Harry stared at the huge chocolate cake. The little boy was usually delighted at the prospect of cake and presents. However, there was a thought in his mind that constantly bugged him. It irritated him every time his birthday came up, and his tenth was no exception.
The ten candles flickered brightly in front of Harry. Sparks of crimson and gold could be seen reflected off of Harry's emerald eyes, his look vacant and distressed. While Nimue continued to prod the boy on why he seemed depressed, Merlin sighed. The wise old wizard realized just what was bothering his pupil. Sighing heavily as the thought of a long talk crossed his mind, Merlin pulled out a wooden chair from the table and sat down adjacent to Harry. His twinkling, calm eyes focused on the saddened little boy.
"Do you want to know what happened to your real parents, Harry?"
Shocked, the Boy Who Lived snapped his head sideways, looking directly at his teacher. Nimue stepped back from her surrogate son, looking uncomfortable.
The little boy stuttered a response to the ageless sorceror. "W-well, I was kinda h-h-hoping..."
Merlin raised an ageless hand to silence the nervous boy. Smiling warmly, he looked directly at his student. "Well, Harry, you know that scar on your face?"
Harry nodded, his right hand involuntarily moving to feel the infamous lightning-shaped scar.
Merlin quickly conjured up a cup of tea. Looking away from his student for a moment, he took a sip. His face cringed slightly. "Mmm, too bitter. Then again, Earl Grey will always be bitter, I suppose..." With a quick hand gesture over the cup, sugar appeared and fell in. A spoon also seemed to form in the tea, stirring automatically. As the spoon finished its chore and disappeared, Merlin took another sip.
Harry coughed loudly.
The ageless wizard snapped out of his reverie. "Whoops! Sorry, Harry. You know what good tea does to me." Setting the cup aside, Merlin redirected his attention back to his student. "You see, Harry, your scar came from a wizard named Voldemort..."
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It only took a few minutes for Merlin to recollect the vision he had of Harry's parents being killed. However, each minute that passed felt like an hour to the Boy Who Lived. His eyes were wide and brimming with tears, his face trapped in a look of utter horror. Nimue, who heard this story when Merlin brought Harry to their home, stared at the stone floor of her cavern home. Merlin, finishing the story, returned to his tea. After taking a solitary sip, the master of magic faced his pupil once again.
"How are you feeling now, Harry?"
The Boy Who Lived didn't know what to do. The thought that his parents were ruthlessly killed sickened him. His rage was curbed when his teacher told him that his parents' killer was defeated. Nevertheless, dozens of questions swam in the boy's head. Wiping the tears from his eyes, Harry looked at his mentor.
"But how did I survive? How could I have beaten Voldemort?"
Merin gave Harry a small smile. "You survived and defeated Voldemort because your birthmother loved you."
The little boy scratched his head in confusion. "How?"
Taking another sip of tea, Merlin explained. "You see, Harry, your mother died while protecting you. She was a wizard who, in her death, actually cast an ancient magic spell on you. This spell creates a barrier in your soul that protects you from any poisonous, evil forces that would kill you. Your mother loved you so much that her death activated this spell, Harry."
Nimue shuffled slightly from where she stood. Harry nodded in understanding. "What is the spell called, Father?"
Merlin sipped his tea before answering. "It actually has several names, translated into Druid, Latin, and Norse. However, I believe the loose English translation is 'Shield of Hope'"
Again, Harry was confused. "Why hope? Isn't it based on love?"
Merlin smiled. "Of course it is. But remember, Harry, the spell's concept is that it protects you from evil and death. It is your mother's final 'hope' that you live a long, happy life that has kept you safe from the Killing Curse. As a matter of fact, it will continue to protect you from death, so long as you shall live."
Harry nodded again, a single tear streaming down his face. "My parents were great wizards, weren't they, Father?"
The older wizard nodded. "From what I've gathered, they truly were. And it was wrong of me to delay this matter until now. You have a right to know about your significance in the magical community, Harry. An importance that I have hidden from you since you were born."
Harry leaned forward from his chair. "What is it, Father?"
Merlin's eyes twinkled as he spoke. "You saved the world, Harry Potter. You are the Boy Who Lived."
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After that day, Harry spent his freetime reading the books that Merlin never conjured up for him. Books about the legendary Boy Who Lived, the child who defeated the Dark wizard Voldemort and single-handidly saved the world. No matter how epic each account had been, Harry still cried after reading about himself. He hated the fact that he was famous for something that caused the death of his parents.
What still confused Harry, however, was Merlin's role in the historic "Fall of Voldemort". Every account said that he was under the custody of another wizard for safety's sake. When he asked his mentor why he was never mentioned by name, Merlin shrugged. When questioned about why he came under Merlin's tutelage, the ageless wizard simply answered "Because you have the power." Harry never understood this as a child, and usually dropped the matter out of confusion.
Harry understood his importance in the wizarding world. However, he never really saw the wizarding world, and he often wondered about the changes that he caused. Despite having access to the world outside the cave, his adventurous heart longed to experience it. Although he could not tell this to his teacher (as he probably would have let him experience the world as a skunk or something worse), the boy voiced this desire to the closest parent he had: Nimue.
The ageless woman cherished the life she had with Harry as a son. While Merlin had Harry's mind, Nimue had his heart. As a baby, she was the one who cared for him and spent countless nights rocking his cradle and singing to him. As he grew, she found more and more things to do with the little boy. Often, they would have fun planting some vegetation at the outskirts of the cave, where fresh air and sunlight were most abundant. When she baked cookies, he would beg her to let him help. Usually, the small raven-haired child would end up eating the dough while she baked, followed by him trying to eat the result of her work as well. She loved reading books to him, and tucking him into bed every night. She was enraptured by being a mother, which was something she had yet to experience during her long lifetime.
She loved her son, even if he wasn't really her son. And she loved Harry enough to honor his greated wish before his eleventh birthday...
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"Well, Harry, you're going to be 11 in two days!"
Nimue sat at the edge of Harry's bed, pulling the blanket over the boy. "What do you want for your birthday?"
Harry's green eyes shimmered slightly as he looked at his surrogate mother. He shifted uncomfortably under the blankets.
Nimue smiled warmly at her son. "It's ok, Harry. You can ask for anything you want!"
Harry became nervous. "A-anything?"
Nimue nodded.
The Boy Who Lived took a deep breath. "I..."
Nimue watched her son eagerly. "Yes?"
"...wannagotoregularschool."
Nimue's smile immediately fell. "What?"
Harry became even more uncomfortable. "Well, I wanna live outside the cave, mum. But Father wants me to stay here with him and you so I can learn. So I figured, maybe if I went to school, then I can see the world outside the cave and learn. Is that ok, mum?"
Nimue stared at the ground for a moment. She sighed after a while, and looked at her son with an expression of tranquility. "Are you sure, Harry?"
Harry just nodded.
Once again, Nimue sighed. "Very well, Harry. I'll try."
-----
"You can't keep him in this cave for the rest of his life, Merlin!"
Nimue looked at her husband with every bit of resolve she could muster. Her mahogany-brown hair was flowing freely, no longer braided as she was accustomed to keep it. She stood at the doorway in her bathroom robe, giving her husband a determined look.
Most people realize that a good marraige must consist of at least a fight or two. After hundreds of years, Nimue had been obedient to her husband. It wasn't because of servitude, since Merlin always tried to make her life easier. It wasn't because of dominance, since it was he who followed her into the cave. It was because she had nothing to stand up for in the first place: she brought him to the cave, she made him turn it into a home, and she accepted his explanation for their lack of offspring. However, she now had a son, and she was not going to let him suffer.
Merlin sat on the bed and looked at his wife. His eyes were sad; this was an argument they've had since Harry was 6. He sighed, ready to engage in the same verbal battle that he had fought with her every year. "I told you already, Nimue, he can't leave. He's a wizard. The second he does something out of the ordinary, he'll be persecuted. Then what? You know how much the world has changed. We watched it on that bloody television, my love."
Nimue's resolve stiffened. "Then what about the wizarding community? I mean, surely he'd be welcome there."
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the child that defeated Voldemort, and the only wizard in the world who knows of the archaic magic that I, Merlin, taught him, would surely be welcomed into the weak, ignorant, biased, power-hungry magical community that exists today."
Nimue was surprised by Merlin's sarcasm, something he stopped showing since Arthur's death. She sighed, ready to deal her trump card. "What about Harry?"
The ageless wizard arched an eyebrow at his ageless wife. "What are you talking about, Nimue?"
She looked at her husband with teary eyes. "How can you deny Harry of having friends? You've forced him to live in this cave all his life! The farthest he's been is to the edge of the forest! You can't do that to Harry, Merlin. He deserves a life. He wants to go to school in order to have one."
The wizard looked at his wife with surprise. Although he anticipated this argument, he didn't realize how strongly Nimue felt about Harry. He realized that he had spent too much time with the boy as a teacher instead of a father. Nimue, he knew, always read books to him and tucked him in at night. She was the one who made Harry's favorite treacle fudge cookies, and she always tended to the plants with him. She was more of a mother to him than he was a father.
Merlin's surprise quickly became seriousness. "He deserves happiness, Nimue. The world is filled with nothing but disappoinments and pain. Here, he is protected."
The ageless woman narrowed her eyes at the sorceror. "I want to protect him too, Merlin. But we can't lock him up here. It's cruel and you know it. Don't let what happened between you and the Pendragon family judge how you should perceive the common man, Merlinus Ambrosius."
His expression waivered under his wife's glare. She addressed him by his full name, she brought up even more memories of the past, and worst of all, she was starting to sound very familiar to him. He finally relented, sighing heavily, knowing that he could not win the argument at this rate. "Very well. I shall enroll him into Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry tomorrow. It is a boarding school for wizards, starting at the age of 11. Is that better?"
The woman's glare immediately became an expression of regret. "Oh, a...boarding school?"
Merlin nodded solemnly.
Nimue was about to object, saying that she didn't want Harry to leave her completely, until she finally relented as well. She sighed. "It...would be selfish of me to want to keep Harry here just for my sake. Very well then, Hogwarts it is."
As his ageless wife tucked herself into bed with him, Merlin looked up at the ceiling of his cave. His judgment was no longer clouded by his inability to let Harry go. With that clarity, however, came another surprising thought. After a few moments, he sighed and tried to fall asleep, deciding to visit Avalon in the morning instead.
-----
Far off in the most remote corner of the waters that surrounded Great Britain, there lies an island. Not just an island, mind you; it was more like a picture. A picture of an era where magic and sorcery were commonplace. An era where little boys longed for knighthood, and little girls dreamed of becoming princesses. An era of swords and horses instead of guns and cars; where chivalry reigned supreme and the code of honor was all that one required. This picture of an extinct era still existed, only to be hidden under the mists that guarded this sacred place from those who seek it. It was a picture, frozen within the sands of time, constantly preserved by the ageless inhabitants that cared for the isle.
Avalon. The Last Haven.
The mists parted as a brilliant light began to appear on the sandy beaches of Avalon's shores, brightening the forever-dreary atmosphere of the sacred isle. However, in a matter of seconds the light disappeared as easily as it came, leaving behind two people. Two people concealed under the returning mists, concealing them like a gray veil. The shadowy figures began to move, their destination already set.
"So this is Avalon?"
"Yes, Harry. This is the place."
10-year-old Harry Potter was marveled by the sights of the beautiful landscape. Despite the somewhat depressing sky, the lush green fields and magnificent structures of marble and stone put Harry in awe. The silence of the mist was both eerie and surreal, and the only disturbance that occurred was the music of the waves hitting the beach. The slight breeze caused Harry and Merlin's robes to flutter soundlessly. Although the boy found the forests surrounding his cavern to be peaceful, the deathly silence and solitary atmosphere gave the Boy Who Lived a feeling of serenity as well.
Merlin turned to his pupil. "I want you stay close to the shoreline. I'll be back soon, I just need to get something."
Harry was about to protest until he remembered what Merlin told him about his history with Avalon. Realizing that his mentor probably wants some 'alone time', the young boy nodded. "Can I look around here?"
Merlin nodded. "Just don't stray too far from the shores."
The raven-haired wizard nodded his head, green eyes glimmering in the gray background. He watched his teacher leave him temporarily, knowing quite well what the ageless magician wanted to do.
-----
The flames flickered into life as the shadowy figure entered. Golden light poured into the room of marble, revealing its awesome beauty. Pillars engraved with the images of knights supported the Colosseum atmosphere, while floating torches illuminated the room. The figure walked on, stopping momentarily as he saw the end of the floor and the huge gap that stood between him and his targeted location. The figure chuckled slightly before continuing his leisurely pace, unfazed by the lack of a bridge or floor. The man's faith was rewarded as a narrow rainbow appeared under him, supporting him in his journey toward the center of the room. As he stepped off of the band of light, the figure kneeled before the altar that stood before him. The torches circling overhead once again illuminated the area, revealing a beautiful altar covered in gold and violet velvet. The light danced with the shadows, twisting and turning until the torches found themselves spotlighting the figure that lay on top of the royal altar.
Arthur Pendragon, the greatest king in all of Britain.
Merlin finished his prayer before he stood back up, his face conveying a look of both happiness and sadness. He smiled, twinkling eyes barely holding back the tears. He tipped his pointed hat toward the man he dedicated a part of his life to. The ageless wizard caressed the cheek of his deceased son, student, and best friend. After a few moments, Merlin spoke.
"I have decided to let him go out to the world, Wart."
More silence.
"I know, it has been a while since I visited you, hasn't it?"
A chuckle.
"And even longer since I've trusted someone else, eh?"
More silence. Then, a sigh.
"He must go out into the world. Destiny itself has decreed it."
The lights flickered. Both figures stood perfectly still; one out of death, the other out of contemplation.
"It is hard. I know that he will not die of old age, and the shield his mother left him will keep him safe."
More silence.
"And yet...it is hard to see what truly lies in store for Harry. Strange that the boy would be the greatest enigma I ever bore witness to."
Another sigh.
"The blood of lions and dragons flows through his veins."
Merlin's hand left Arthur's cheek.
"He will face many hardships, and I cannot protect him from all of them."
Merlin hung his head low.
"But I have no choice, do I? I must trust him."
Merlin turned away, ready to leave.
"After all, I trusted you, didn't I?"
Merlin began to leave that chamber, the light disappearing from his face. He was at the entrance of the sanctum when he turned back to the body of the great king.
"But...when the time comes, I won't fail him. I promise."
And with that, the supreme wizard left.
-----
Harry sat on the beach of the great island of Avalon. He already looked around the shores, disappointed at the lack of life that was there. Very few spirits existed around the area; although the island was completely shielded by magic, it was void of the elemental spirits that breathed life into forests and plains.
That must be why it is so gray, Harry thought.
"It's not all bad, you know."
Harry jumped with a start, surprised that something living was able to sneak up on him without him noticing. The boy who lived got up, adjusted his glasses, and looked around for the mysterious voice.
He raised his arms up in defense, ready to cast a spell in his defense. "Who's there?"
The mysterious voice suddenly giggled.
Now Harry was confused. "Um, why are you giggling?"
The mysterious voice seemed less distant. "You're cute when you get all worked up."
Harry blushed, yet without noticing the heat rising to his face.
The voice giggled once again.
Lowering his arms at the sound of the giggling voice, Harry sat down once again. Even though he knew the voice was probably not dangerous (as most dangerous things didn't complement their victim and giggle at the reaction), he felt that it was pointless to threaten his mysterious assailant. He couldn't see where the voice was coming from, and his magical sense couldn't detect it. Therefore, the only course of action left was to talk to it.
"Um, who, what, and where are you?"
Without warning, some of the mists began to spiral around the Boy Who Lived. Harry was slightly startled by the strange turn of events; however, upon closer inspection he realized what was happening and who was talking to him.
The young wizard smiled. "You're a Djinn wizard, right?"
The mists began to condense together. In front of Harry's eyes, a shadow appeared behind the veil of mists. The shadow stepped out of the its surroundings like a painting coming to life, revealing a young girl in plain brown robes. Eyes as blue as the ocean around them and sandy-colored hair highlighted her visage.
The young girl, whom looked about Harry's age, smiled. "Yep."
Harry examined the girl that suddenly appeared. She was a perfect picture of innocence; her face held a look of naivete framed with short blonde hair and brown eyes. Her robes confirmed Harry's original idea that she was a practitioner of spiritual and ethereal arts. She continued smiling at Harry, arms behind her.
Harry stood up to greet the girl. He never met a girl before. Although he had seen many members of the female gender in his books and television, he never actually met one other than his surrogate mother, Nimue. It was the first of what he hoped to be many new experiences.
Harry extended his hand in friendship. "Hello, I'm H-"
"Harry Potter, yes, I know. Uncle Merlin's student, the Boy Who Lived, the child whose blood flows with the lion and the dragon. I've heard all about you." The girl said innocently.
Harry looked stunned. 'Whose blood flows with the lion and the dragon? Uncle Merlin?' He was a little amazed that his legend seemed to be well known in even Avalon. Sighing, Merlin's protege hung his head low and decided to put his hand away.
The girl caught his hand before he could do so, however. For a hand made of mist, it felt surprisingly human to the young boy.
"Nice to meetcha!"
Harry smiled, glad to make his first friend.
"HARRY! READY TO GO?"
Harry turned his head around, smiling as his mentor appeared with a large veiled object underneath his arm. Merlin continued to walk toward him, carrying a smile along with his covered item. He must be done by now, concluded Harry.
"Father! I'd like you to meet my new friend!"
Harry turned his around. The strange girl wasn't there anymore, and his hand was grasping nothing but air.
Harry was shocked. He quickly turned around and ran toward his teacher and surrogate father. "Father! MY FRIEND DISAPPEARED!"
Merlin and Harry finally reached each other. Harry was slightly out of breath, babbling about how he made a friend with a Djinn wizard and how she suddenly disappeared when it would have been impossible for one to disappear that quickly unless one knew a teleport spell.
Merlin suddenly started laughing. Harry became even more confused at the turn of events.
"Wha...?"
Merlin calmed himself as he saw how confused his pupil was. "I assume you met a little sandy-haired girl?"
Harry's eyes widened. "Well, yes..."
Merlin chuckled lightly. "Yes, she's probably still embarassed about the last time she saw me. Back then, she accidently spilled this potion all over my robes that turned them pink...permenently."
Harry nodded in understanding until another thought came to him. "Wait...the last time she...?"
Merlin nodded again, smiling and looking at Harry with pride. "Good deduction skills, m'boy. Yes, she met me back in Arthur's time."
Harry was once again surprised. "B-but how...?"
Merlin looked at his student. "Think, Harry. You studied Avalon before."
Harry nodded and thought for a moment. The answer suddenly came to him. "Oh, I remember! Avalon ages much slower than the regular world, right? A day passed in Avalon is like a week in real time!"
Merlin nodded. "Exactly. That is why we are leaving immediately, lest we waste more than just a day in the real world."
Harry looked worried. "But...what about..."
Merlin chuckled again. "Don't worry, you'll meet her again. I promise."
Harry nodded. And with that, the legendary figures left the mystical island.
-----
The month of July ended on a sunny note, as Harry celebrated his 11th birthday. The boy adored this birthday most of all; Nimue baked him a huge cake filled with various chocolates and covered with enough sugar to make Harry sick for an entire week. Various other pastries and fudges were concocted for later consumption by the child. It wasn't just the sweets that made this day special, however, but the announcement that came afterwards.
"So I'll be going to this school called Hogwarts." Harry said, barely containing his excitement.
"Yes." Merlin answered, smiling as he sensed his pupil's eagerness.
"Will there be a lot of people there?" asked Harry.
"Many."
Harry nodded. He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "...Do you think they'll like me?"
Merlin chuckled. "They'll love you, Harry. I guarantee it."
Harry nodded once again. "Do you think I'll do well?"
Merlin patted Harry on the back. "I expect you to be the top student in your class!"
"Do you-"
Merlin interrupted his student. "Stop asking me what I think, Harry. You know I think you'll do well there."
Harry nodded once again.
After a moment of silence, Harry spoke up. "So, what do I need for Hogwarts?"
"They'll send a list to the edge of the forest via owl post."
Harry (yep, you guessed it) nodded. "So...does that mean I'll need an owl to correspond with you and Mum?"
Merlin shook his head, trying to contain his own excitement. "Nope. I already have an owl for you to use."
Harry gawked at his mentor. "You do?"
Merlin nodded and picked up the cloaked item he got from Avalon. This time, however, there was a bow attached to the top. He passed the large, dome-like object to Harry. The boy immediately took his gift and unwrapped the cloak, revealing a beautiful silver cage with a large owl in it.
His eyes were large and golden. His plummage was a mix of mahogany and black, while his crest and stomach feathers were snowy white. He "hoot"-ed at Harry, who gazed at the animal with love and awe.
Harry was speechless. Then again, his mouth was hanging from his face at that moment, so any speech on his part would have been fairly difficult to accomplish.
Merlin smiled. "His name is Archimedes."
Harry smiled at the owl. "Hello, Archimedes."
The owl looked at his new master peculiarly. If Harry hadn't known better, he would have thought the owl was examining him.
Harry looked at his mentor. "Can I call him Archy?"
"Good Heavens, no! I shall only be addressed as Archimedes!"
Harry's head snapped back at the owl. His emerald eyes were wide, staring directly at the owl's golden ones.
The owl just talked, thought Harry.
Archimedes just stared at Harry, wondering why the heck Merlin always wanted him to accompany young boys with a penchant towards calling him 'Archy'.
Merlin just smiled. The scene occuring before him was the exact same as Arthur and Archimedes' first meeting.
Harry snapped out of his state of bewilderment. "My goodness, I didn't know you could talk!"
Archimedes looked indignant. "Well, I do. So?"
Harry blinked, looking nervous. "Well, it's just that...you're going to be my messenger owl. You don't mind, do you?"
Archimedes eyed the boy warily, or as warily as an owl could. A few uneasy minutes passed by. The owl quickly glanced at his former master Merlin, who just nodded. Looking back at Harry, the proud owl mentally relented. "As long as you address me by my proper name, I won't mind. Really, you'd think that people would be more respectful after a few centuries of civilization..."
Harry didn't seem to hear the rest of the bird's babbling. He turned to his teacher, smiling brightly. "Thanks, Dad."
Merlin smiled. "You're welcome...Harry."
-----
NEXT TIME: Diagon Alley Blues
-----
Author's Notes:
REVISED EDITION
Just to answer a few questions:
1.) Merlin lives on the other side of the timestream, but this isn't in terms of reality, just time. In other words, his mind works from the future to the past; he lives his life with time going in a different direction for him. He knows the future (which is why he suggests Hogwarts), but has a hard time with the past (specifically, anything that happened before the Arthurian age. This is why he has problems remembering his childhood but not his adulthood, which he constantly refreshens with his age spell).
2.) The greatest wizard of all time, being intimidated by his wife? Laughing? Having a hard time teaching a little boy about magic? Yes, I know it doesn't sound believable, but it's what I always thought Merlin would be. Granted, he's old and wise and prophetic, but he was also the one who cared for Arthur as a child. That is the sole differance between him and Dumbledore; while Dumbledore has been a professor and a headmaster and has cared for many children, he has NEVER treated one like a son or daughter (as is my knowledge). Merlin, on the other hand, took care of Arthur since he was a pre-teen all the way up until he died. He taught him about life, values, and even had fun with him when he turned Arthur into various animals (more on that later). That alone gives Merlin far more emotional loss. And even though he is wise, I still believe that he's more human than Dumbledore. I mean, he has a wife, he had a surrogate son, and his life has been filled with very "human" issues (more on that later). He's still intimidating, too; you just haven't seen it since there are no threats present (and Voldy is kinda gone).
3.) My Merlin is a fusion of the numerous (and most well-known) legends of Merlin that are out there. Although I had to tweak his story for the sake of explanation and my tale, it is still adherent to the traditional Merlin legends, just with a little altering from my part. Think of him as Pepsi Twist; the original story is the Pepsi, and I'm the cheap artifical lemon flavoring. :)
If this chapter wasn't that good for ya, feel free to e-mail me your suggestions. Just be reasonable; no "make this an H/H or H/G or whatever story" or "YOU SUCK! HAHAHA" stuff. Please make suggestions CONSTRUCTIVE. As for the pairing, I'm still working on them. However, I already have some ideas that would probably fit in with Harry's new personality.
As always, the more you review the more I write. Thanks.
E-Mail: AIM: SeraphZero00
Peace. - SeraphZero