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 E-Mail: 3: Diagon Alley Blues
"The greatest difficulties lie where we are not looking for them." - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Albus Dumbledore whistled an upbeat tune as he marched toward his office. Stopping only for a moment to whisper the password that opened the staircase (Pumpkin Pasties), he strolled along to his workplace. The new school year was approaching rapidly, and with it would come new students, all brimming with youth and talent. The idea made Albus smile as he greeted Fawkes, his pet phoenix, with enthusiasm.
Seating himself at his desk, Albus decided to begin his day with a copy of the Daily Prophet. However, he found it peculiar that he could not begin to read, for something felt out of place for the Headmaster of Hogwarts. No danger seemed present, none that he could sense anyway. Rather, the strangest feeling that something in his office room was not how he left it.
He folded the newspaper and placed it on his desk, only to find that instead of hitting a hardwood surface, the soft thud of paper coming in contact with more paper could be heard. For a sharp mind like Dumbledore's, that soft thud could have been as loud as a banshee's cry.
Picking up his newspaper and tossing it aside, Albus noticed a small, unmarked envelope on his desk. He realized that the item had to have appeared overnight, for it was not there yesterday. Nor could it have been left by any of the other professors, since their presence would have been accounted for in his magically protected room. The envelope had to have been apparated into the room...yet apparating is impossible in Hogwarts.
Still sensing no danger, Albus decided that the only answers to his questions lay in the envelope. Picking it up and opening it carefully, Albus checked the contents. Inside were several sheets of paper, neatly arranged and perfectly folded. He unfolded the papers and read through them quickly.
His eyes widened. His mouth gaped open.
Albus Dumbledore, for the first time in a very long while, was surprised.
He suddenly burst out laughing, dancing a strange yet ecstatic dance, thankful for the privacy of his office that protected him from any embarassment of acting so energetically. He immediately left his office to make sure that the proper papers were sent out, as there was no time to waste on such a momentous occasion.
Harry Potter just sent his letter of attendance to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
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"No."
"Oh, come now Merlin! It would be good for us as a family."
"No way."
"Please, dad? I wanna do it!"
"Uh-uh."
"Really, Merlin, act your age!"
"If I did, I'd be a corpse."
"C'mon, dad!
"What part of the word 'NO' don't you understand?"
"Honestly Merlin, there's no harm in it."
"No still means no."
"But dad...!"
"I said NO. For the last time, it is completely unnecessary as long as I'm around..."
"But it would be more fun!"
"Yeah! Mum's right!"
"FINE!" sigh "We'll do it, we'll do it. Honestly, you two..."
"See, mum? I told you dad would let us go!"
"Of course, honey. After all, your father is a weak-willed man."
"...I'm still right here, you know."
-----
Harry and Nimue stood in front of the small flower patch that grew inside the cozy cavern. The Boy Who Lived waited impatiently for his "father" to arrive so they could begin their biggest family adventure of all time.
Shopping.
Harry could hardly contain his excitement. His emerald eyes were glittering from the prospect of his first real trip to the outside world. Dressed in a simple green sweater and slacks, he adjusted his silver spectacles for the fortieth time and continued to (unsuccessfully) straighten out his disordered hair. Nimue, who dressed simply for the occasion, just watched her surrogate son, occasionally supressing the urge to giggle at her child's hair-related plight.
"Alright, let's get this over with." said Merlin as he appeared.
Harry and Nimue directed their attention to the ageless wizard. Their eyes widened at the sight they saw. If either of them had ever been surprised in their entire lives, this would have been the moment.
Merlin, whose appearance was that of a roguish man who only showed signs of gray hair, now looked like a 40-year-old overweight man sporting a "IT'S CALLED FOOTBALL, NOT SOCCER" t-shirt covered in chocolate stains and bright pink shorts.
Merlin's plump face smiled. "Well, what do you think?"
Harry was already on the ground laughing, clutching onto his sides. Nimue simply had her head whipped back, laughing like a banshee.
Pinching the bridge of his nose with his stubby fingers, Merlin sighed.
-----
After 5 minutes of laughing at Merlin's expense, Harry and Nimue had finally calmed down enough to listen to Merlin who, thankfully, transformed back into his original form.
He looked at his ageless wife and adopted student with a critical eye. "Honestly, what was wrong with wearing a disguise? I don't want people to recognize me, and frankly that was the most inconspicuous guise I could concoct."
"Don't be so paranoid, Merlin. The vast majority of the wizarding community still thinks you're dead. They also don't expect you to look so young in the first place." said Nimue, still calming herself.
Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Yes, but there are still people in this world who probably remember my prophecies and the Fountain of Youth spell. For all you know, a bloody reporter might remember them, recognize me, and begin investigating."
"Yes, just like a reporter letting the entire Muggle world know about wizards and witches living among them, but that doesn't seem to happen as often as we think, does it?" replied Nimue.
Merlin narrowed his eyes at his wife, who smiled innocently. "Touché, dear."
-----
One teleportation spell later...
"Welcome, Harry, to...ah, what was it again, dear?"
"I think it was called 'Diagon Alley'."
"Yes, of course...DIAGON ALLEY!"
They arrived on the very corner of where the street began, secluded from other shoppers and pedestrians. The shadows covered the family in its cloak of darkness, obscuring their dramatic entrance. However, no shadow could have hidden the immense twinkle in the eyes of Harry Potter.
"Wow..."
If pictures were worth a thousand words, the real thing would be limitless. For Harry Potter, that sentiment struck him like a bolt of lightning as the sight of buildings and people bustling around occured in front of him. Men and women, children and the elderly, people of all sizes and ages swarmed the magical marketplace. The streets were paved with families buying school supplies, children playing and talking, and men being merry after a few glasses of butterbeer. The afternoon sun illuminated the scene of modern-day wizard life as people bought, sold, and hassled over their everyday items. However, in the eyes of a boy whose life consisted of images and words in a cave, of theory and description instead of reality, the scene of regularity was absolutely extraordinary.
Harry's entire life was spent secluded from the outside world. After seeing the light in Harry's eyes at the sight of other wizards and real buildings, Merlin no longer regretted leaving the cave with the family. He looked at his wife, who, after seeing her adopted son's expression, was equally as glad about the excursion.
The most powerful wizarding family in the world had just arrived in Diagon Alley.
-----
Harry roamed the streets, moving from shop to shop and examining everything in sight, with an equally-curious Nimue right behind him. Dressed in the simplest and most plain clothing he could concoct, Merlin walked along with his wife and adopted child, reading off the list of supplies necessary for Hogwart's.
Merlin adjusted his silver glasses and began to read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM: First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Merlin stopped reading for a moment and blinked. "Nothing but black clothing? What's wrong with blue? Honestly, it's like every wizard has to be stereotypically dark..."
Harry and Nimue paid no attention to the timeless wizard's complaint, still admiring the wonderous trinkets in the shops of Diagon Alley. Merlin sighed at the lack of attention given to him and continued to read:
COURSE BOOKS
Merlin quickly scanned the required reading, snickering slightly at the fact that his prodigal student already read through them all at an earlier age. Skipping to the list of OTHER EQUIPMENT, the ageless magician's eyes widened at the sight of one item's mention in particular
"A WAND! How weak are these wizards!"
As rare and unique as the sights were to Harry, the fact that his calm and collected caretaker had an outburst attracted his attention more. "What's wrong with a wand? All the wizarding books claim that they are quite necessary for the spells they talk about..."
Having already committed most of the list to memory, Merlin pocketed the list and looked at Harry. "They are only necessary for the wizards living in the current age. When I received my tutelage in the magical arts, all my lessons required only hand movements and, when I was focused enough, mere thoughts."
Harry looked perplexed. "But...that still doesn't explain why you think wizards are 'weak' for using wands..."
Merlin took a deep breath, bearing in mind the fact that Harry never received an explanation on why wands were weak since all his texts emphasized their strengths. "Harry, the most potent magics come from sheer thought or hand motion. Magical power comes directly from the person using it, and the hand or the mind are a part of the body. In essence, they are directly connected to the source of power being used. However, such immense power also needs a great deal of focus and concentration to harnass properly. Items such as wands or staves merely act as conduits to help focus such raw magical power. While it makes concentration easier, those items also severely limit and handicap your abilities into whatever the item can handle. Compare, for example...a waterfall to a faucet sink. Well, a wand is that pipe that controls that flow of water."
Harry still looked perplexed. "Well...waterfalls also have their limits, too...couldn't you just find a wand capable enough of tapping into your full power? I mean, it's not like anybody could truly have an immense amnount of power..."
Merlin smiled slightly at Harry's inquisitive mind. "Maybe...but you, the person, are the limitations of that waterfall, and frankly...no wand in the world could possibly ebb the power flow of the spells I taught you. Frankly, you're just going to have to continue training your mind until you have enough focus and concentration to use your magic properly. Self-control can be taught, Harry...it does not need a handicap to aid it. Power, however, is something that is determined based solely on the person."
"But still...it's not like I have a waterfall of magical power in me."
Merlin took a moment to consider if it would be wise to tell Harry that, like him, the boy's power was more akin to all the oceans of the Earth combined than a mere waterfall. Deciding to withhold the information from Harry instead of lying to his pupil, Merlin merely replied, "Well...you would never find out if you had one if you limited yourself to a wand now, would you Harry?"
Harry could only nod in agreement as he absorbed the newly-acquired information. Once he saw the Eeylops Owl Emporium, however, the green-eyed youth went from nodding to gazing in awe at the sight of numerous beautiful birds. While he indeed still had Archimedes, who decided to rest at home rather than join the chaos of consumer purchasing, Harry still felt amazement shining plummage of the snowy white birds, a rare sight in the summer-drenched forests of Merlin's Mound.
Merlin smirked, realizing that if he allowed Harry to do the shopping, they would never leave the marketplace of Diagon Alley. "Harry, you can look around all you like. How about Nimue and I do the shopping for you, and you can just look around? We'll meet back at the front of the street in say...2 hours?"
Harry did not speak, nor turn to acknowledge his mentor. He did, however, reintroduce the action of nodding into his gazing to confirm that he understood Merlin's instructions. Holding back a small laugh, the supreme wizard quickly left a few Galleons in Harry's pocket. He proceeded to take his wife's hand and lead her further into Diagon Alley, continuing their exciting shopping adventure while Harry sidetracked himself with a quest of sight-seeing.
-----
Deep within the cavernous passageways of Gringotts, Rubeus Hagrid exited a cart driven by a goblin named Griphook. For a man as gargantuan as he was, Hagrid exhibited an air of nervousness from his darting eyes to his fumbling figners. He looked to his left and to his right, assessing his surroundings, as he approached a vault numbered 713 with the utmost haste.
Ever since he lost Harry Potter to the mysterious wizard who claimed to be Merlin, Hagrid became far more cautious than deemed necessary. However, the contents of vault 713 were important enough to warrant such paranoia.
Rubeus Hagrid was a half-giant who would not fail Dumbledore again. He swore this oath around 10 years ago and renewed it as he pocketed the heavily-wrapped spherical object within vault 713.
-----
Amazed emerald eyes peered through the glass window of the Eeylops Owl Emporium and witnessed the beauty of the owls within. Outside of his newly-acquired companion, Archimedes, Harry never witnessed so many birds in one setting. With eyes aghast, he marveled onward and motioned toward the entrance of the building, letting a solitary statement escape his wise and educated mouth:
"Pretty birdies..."
Needless to say, our young protagonist was quite flabberghasted.
Harry ran back and forth from each owl, marveling at their reactions and movements. Not even the vast woodlands of Merlin's Mound contained such an array of snowy-white owls. The delicate, soft sheen of their feathers seemed to shine in the daylight, a stark contrast from the dark, woodland color of Archimedes' own plummage. Despite feeling content with the gracious gift Merlin gave him the day before, Harry could not help but feel a twinge of desire for one of the fine winged creatures. At least, he thought, none of these owls would talk back to me and refuse an ingenious nickname. Thoughts of the dignified talking bird aside, Harry continued to examine each owl, since even the best moving photographs could not replace the actual experience of a living, breathing...
"I said I wanted THAT bird!"
The cry of a pompous and spoiled brat broke Harry's reverie. He diverted his attention to the source of such a nuisance, which stood in front of the counter of the store.
"That one! Look at it! That bird would make a fine servant for a future wizarding legend."
Harry raised an eyebrow at the pretentious statement. He turned himself away from the cages to approach the boy. He appeared to be Harry's age, judging from his height. Sleek blond hair found itself slicked back on his head. He dressed in dark robes, contrasting the paleness of his skin. Harry, not wanting to appear strange by heading to the counter and examining him up close, decided to intervene and draw the boy's attention.
"A future wizarding legend...?" inquired Harry.
Startled at the existence of a third party in the shop, the blonde boy turned around and looked at Harry. Once Harry saw the boy's eyes, however, a slight shiver ran down his spine. According to his teacher, the sort of reaction that a truly powerful wizard gets when peering into the eyes on another person usually gave a good inclination into the person's character. Harry suddenly regretted the position that curiosity led him to, as now he was confronted with a person that he'd regret meeting.
"Of COURSE a wizarding legend! I am a Malfoy, after all...coming from a noble and distinct family of true, pure-blood wizards! I will undoubtedly make my family name proud, and uphold the tradition of being a mighty and powerful Slytherin," replied the boy, huffing his chest out.
The word Slytherin somehow registered in Harry's mind. In a heartbeat, Harry remembered that Slytherin was a house division in Hogwarts. If he was going to be a Slytherin...it means that he's going to Hogwarts, realized Harry. Holding back a groan, the Boy Who Lived decided the best course of action would be to simply agree and leave the shop. After all, he saw all the owls there, so there was no need to stay.
The boy, whom Harry gathered was a "Malfoy" (whatever that meant), looked at Harry with a slight bit of curiousity. "What about your parents?"
Harry gestured towards the outside with his thumb. "They're off buying my items for school while I look around."
The boy didn't seem to be really paying attention to Harry. He already returned to waiting for his owl, yet he still continued to converse with the Boy Who Lived half-heartedly. "Yes, well my father is off buying my equipment too...the best equipment, mind you. Although I cannot wait to get a racing broom. Honestly, I don't see why first years can't have their own...I'll probably have to smuggle one in somehow."
Harry just nodded, slowly inching toward the door.
The blonde child turned back to Harry. "Do you have your own broom?"
Harry became a little perplexed. "Uh...not really, my mum and I usually use magic to clean around our home..."
The boy sneered. "No, you dolt, a racing broom for Quidditch."
Harry's mind suddenly recalled the wizarding game mentioned in his texts. Images of people flying on brooms, passing a Quaffle, and chasing a Snitch appeared in his mind. "Oh...no, not really..."
"Play Quidditch at all?" continued the boy, tapping impatiently on the counter for the shopkeep to get his bird from its perch on the ceiling.
"No," replied Harry.
"Well I do...frankly, my father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house...although that won't happen. Only fools would do such a thing, and Slytherins are anything but fools."
Harry could've sworn that he was disliking this person more and more by the second. Thankfully, the shopkeeper chose that moment to give Malfoy his owl and cage, allowing Harry to escape the scene. Not one to stray from manners, Harry quickly said a "Well gotta go bye-bye see you at school" hastily as he left the shop. The boy inside seemed not to notice or care.
Outside of the shop, Harry sighed. I'm gonna have THAT kind of person as a classmate, thought Harry. Not one to dwell on his predicaments (as living in a cave secluded from the outside world can do that to a person), he continued his walking tour of Diagon Alley. A few steps away from the shop, however, he could hear the boy leaving with his newly-acquired owl, who was rattling around in the cage. Harry turned around and saw the boy apparently hitting the cage, angrily yelling at the bird to calm down and obey him. The bird seemed reluctant to go with its master.
Poor bird, thought Harry.
The boy dropped the cage right onto the pavement and proceeded to kick it, causing the bird to panic more as the cage fell sideways onto the street. The blonde Slytherin-to-be kept kicking the cage, yelling at his bird to be obedient to its new master.
Seeing the bird in anguish, Harry began to feel sympathy for the creature. After all, that bird would have to serve the boy for as long as he chooses, and that could be a long and torturous lifetime. Wishing to at least stop the boy from attacking, Harry quickly ducked into a nearby alleyway. He hid himself from plain sight within the dark, quickly looking back and forth to see if anybody was watching him. Thankfully, the sight of a spoiled brat attacking a bird cage can draw more attention than most realize. With the coast clear, Harry lifted his right hand toward the boy. Squinting in concentration, Harry began to think of something...hot.
A few seconds later, unknown to the boy as he attacked the cage, the tip of his robe was glowing red. Then orange. Then yellow. Then it stopped glowing altogether, as the robe edge found itself lit on fire.
The boy continued to kick the cage until he suddenly felt a wave of heat rush over him. He smelled a little smoke, but could not figure out the origin of the scent. After a moment, he turned his attention away from the bird...
...and onto the growing fire at the tail and rear of his robe.
Fear, horror, surprise, and panic can cause the most amazing effects on people, thought Harry, as he saw the boy run off at superhuman speeds in search of water. He waited until the crowd of onlookers became distracted with helping the boy on fire to run towards the cage.
Opening the cage door, Harry picked up the owl and, after a moment of talon scratching and wing flapping, managed to calm it down. The creature looked confused, although Harry's experience with animals during his training in the forests helped him easily pacify and make happy the little bird. Smiling, he raised his arm and jerked his wrist several times, telling the bird to fly away. The bird did just that, fluttering away a free owl courtesy of its child savior. Satisfied with his good deed towards an innocent living creature, Harry continued his stroll through Diagon Alley, enjoying the empty sidewalks as people continued to flock towards the fleeing boy on fire.
-----
After purchasing almost all the items needed and enough black robes to last several lifetimes, Merlin and Nimue found themselves walking past a particularly crowded place. Nimue noticed this and began to wonder at what could possibly draw so much attention in such a fascinating, bustling marketplace. Also letting her curiousity take control, she stopped walking with Merlin, causing him to stop as well.
"What's the matter, dear?" inquired Merlin, although he could have guessed judging by the look of interest she had on the building they were passing.
"What's this...'Leaky Cauldron'? There seem to be so many people inside...yet this entire place is magnificent! Whatever lies beyond those doors must be far more amazing!"
Merlin shrugged. "What's so amazing about this place in the first place? It's just a marketplace...honestly, it would have been easier to just create Harry's school items than multiply the funds we had just to purchase them..."
Nimue turned to her husband, a look of shock on her face. "'What's so amazing'! Why, they have frogs made of chocolate that still move, yet they taste so delectable! They...they have brooms that not only fly, but can be used to RACE each other! Why, there are bookstores with books that are invisible, or read themselves to you! Little toys that remind you of things that you'd forget...such a useful invention, especially after a few centuries! And...and hair-straightening potion, Merlin! Potions that can do so much!"
Merlin just blinked. "Honey...we have magic spells that could do all that for you..."
Nimue sighed. "That's not the point, Merlin..."
"Then what is the 'point', Nimue?"
Nimue pinched the bridge of her nose. "Merlin...there's a difference between reading a book on a tiger, and actually seeing one in person."
"Yes...reading about one is far safer and won't lead to you getting ripped apart and turned into poo."
Nimue, ignoring the fact that her erudite husband just used the word "poo," decided that it was pointless to continue arguing and walked into the Leaky Cauldron, causing an exasperated Merlin to reluctantly follow.
-----
Intuitively realizing that his mentor would never, EVER, get a wand for Harry, the Boy Who Lived approached the narrow, shabby store known as Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. The tinkering bell resonated throughout the tiny shop.
"Good afternoon!" came a soft voice. Apparently hearing peoples' voices without seeing them first is the theme of the day, thought a startled Harry Potter.
Harry saw an old man suddenly appear before him, standing up and staring with wide, pale eyes that shined amidst the gloom of the shop.
Harry waved. "Uh, hi."
The man looked at Harry carefully. "Hrm...Harry Potter, huh. And I thought you were dead."
Harry shrugged. "Well...the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated."
The man smiled. "Heh, nice sense of humor, just like your father. You also have your mother's eyes, too."
Harry's face suddenly grew serious. "You...you knew my parents?"
The man continued to examine Harry. "Of course I did...made their wands myself. Your mother, she had a ten and a quarter inch long willow wand...good for charms. Your father...he favored mahogany, eleven inches. Excellent for transfiguration. Of course...the wands choose the wizards though, not the other way around."
The man, whom Harry deduced to be Mr. Ollivander himself, moved closer to Harry's scar. "Hrm...sorry, looks like I sold the wand that made this little beast...thirteen and a half inches, quite powerful...too bad it was in the wrong hands."
Harry began feeling uncomfortable...partially due to the silvery eyes of Mr. Ollivander, mostly due to the unwanted references to his deceased parents and the man who killed them. Mr. Ollivander pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings from his pocket. "What's your wand arm?"
Assuming that the wand arm was his dominant arm, Harry replied, "My right."
"Hold out your arm. There we go..." Mr. Ollivander's tape measure began measuring all of Harry by itself, much to the boy's surprise. He continued to watch the measure work, ignoring the speech that the old man was making about the quality of his wands.
When the measurements were finished, Mr. Ollivander returned to the shelves and began searching for wands. However, just as he pulled one out for Harry to try, he noticed that Harry was staring at a particular box in the shelves. Looking toward where Harry was looking, Mr. Ollivander grabbed the other box instead and approached Harry.
He handed a wand to the Boy Who Lived. "Here...you seem to be a bit drawn by this one...try it out."
Harry didn't know why he was looking at that particular box with that particular wand in it, yet he felt strangely drawn to look at it. It was an absent-minded action, yet still one that seemed a bit...peculiar to the student of Merlin. He took the wand offered of him, feeling a strange warmth enter his fingertips. Streams of red and gold sparks shot from the tip, while light poured from it all around the walls. Mr. Ollivander, however, looked particularly surprised.
"Bravo, Mr. Potter. Strange, though..."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Strange...?"
Mr. Ollivander stared at Harry. "That wand happens to have a tail feather from a phoenix who also gave another feather to another wand...the wand that gave you that scar."
Harry contained his surprise to the best of his ability. "...Oh?"
Mr. Ollivander nodded. "Yes...thirteen and a half inches. Surely a great wand for a great wizard, although...He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was also a great wizard, albeit a terrible one..."
Harry just nodded, a creepy feeling that he could not describe running through his veins.
-----
It was a tiny, grubby place, the Leaky Cauldron. Despite being dark and shabby, the amount of people inside proved how famous the pub actually was. For Nimue and Merlin, however, they were used to dark and shabby places; after all, they did live in a cave.
The couple took a seat at the bar. Nimue immediately ordered the most popular drink on the menu, a butterbeer, while Merlin looked around the room and examined the people around him. There were a few old women in the corner, a little man with a top hat who was quite bald, and a giant of a man with a scraggly beard. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the scraggly-bearded giant as the man who tried to take Harry the night after his parents' death. Worst, he was young that night, as young as he was now. Realizing this and containing his surprise, Merlin got up from his seat and began to slowly but surely walk out of the bar.
"Nimue...we have to go," he beckoned his wife.
Nimue, who was finishing her second butterbeer, refused. "Why?"
Merlin still looked panicked, but somehow kept his calm. "Just...just trust me! It's not safe, at least, not now. We have to go. NOW."
Nimue began her third butterbeer, ignoring her husband's requests. "It's not dangerous! hic You're just saying that to get out of here!"
Merlin looked at his wife as if she were a madwoman, and realized that there was no way he could get her to leave without mentioning Harry's name. If Harry was mentioned, however, Merlin feared attracting the giant's attention despite the rather large crowd. Not willing to take any risks and since Nimue was not the one in danger, Merlin relented. "Fine, I'm still leaving...you just meet us back at the spot as soon as you're done, ok!"
Nimue just nodded her compliance as she finished her third butterbeer.
Merlin frantically started weaving through the crowds in order to escape. However, the room was quite packed, and somewhere amidst the shoving, Merlin found himself bumping into nearly everyone, causing him to apologize silently and profusely. He almost made it to the door when he bumped into one more person who was, oddly enough, also trying to leave the Leaky Cauldron. Merlin bumped into this person and quickly made his apologies, yet the man would not move. Looking up, he saw the same face of the burly, bearded man in the pub who appeared the night he took Harry. The giant looked down at Merlin, blinking at first, his eyes widening as soon as the recognition struck him.
"YOU...!"
Before Hagrid could continue his sentence, Merlin ran with speed more characteristic to a cheetah than a human. Stunned and suddenly infuriated, Hagrid immediately followed after him.
Nimue finally reached her fifth butterbeer, smiling with blissful ignorance of what happened to her husband.
-----
Merlin ran out of the pub, weaving his way through the massive crowd. He saw Harry walking by in the horizon and immediately started calling for him, hoping that maybe Harry's presence could stop the giant of a man from attacking him.
"HARRY! HARRY!"
Unfortunately for the ageless wizard, Harry could not hear him among the spirited chattering and socializing of the pub patrons right outside of the Leaky Cauldron. Even though the master wizard could easily stop the giant with a spell, there were too many people around the marketplace to use one inconspicuously. If Merlin used magic, he would not only be using an ancient spell in public, but he'd also increase the potential risk of giving away his secret identity. The fact that he did not use a wand and his normal repertoire of magic greatly differed from an average wizard's did not help make the choice easier. However, as Hagrid rapidly approached him from the crowd, the situation called for drastic measures, and the only way for Merlin to win against a giant was to simply be Merlin, the greatest wizard of all time.
Before he could use a spell, however, a young blonde boy with flaming robes suddenly ran by, slamming into the burly man. Thankfully for Merlin, the giant also had a butterbeer or two back in the bar. Not many people realize that butterbeer does indeed contain a trace amount of alcohol in it. The fact that Hagrid's beard was set ablaze proved this.
"SOMEBODY PUT THIS FIRE OUT!"
"AYE, MINE TOO!"
The patrons heard the boy and the half-giant's cry and dispersed from the front of the Leaky Cauldron towards the flaming victims, giving Merlin enough space to run towards an amused yet surprised Harry Potter.
Fortunately for the duo, there were many people pouring numerous drinks on them in the effort of putting out the flames. However, butterbeer further proved itself to be a beverage with a miniscule yet noticeable amount of alcohol in it...and alcohol and fire mix in the most amusing of ways.
"IT'S GETTING WORSE! SOMEBODY STOP IT!"
"ARGH, ME BEARD!"
Several patrons were able to rip the butterbeer-soaked flaming robe off of the boy, while the giant had to stop, drop and roll the fire out. Merlin turned to his pupil and looked at him sternly. Harry tried to avoid his mentor's gaze, but to no avail.
"Harry..." said Merlin harshly, "Did you light that boy on fire!"
Knowing that lying was useless, Harry just nodded his concurrence, silent out of shame.
Merlin suddenly cracked a smile and laughed, causing Harry to look with surprise at his teacher.
"Heh, great job, Harry...great job."
Ignorant of the fact that the fire just saved Merlin's life and identity, Harry just smiled and decided to take advantage of his good fortune rather than question it.
Nimue finally came out of the Leaky Cauldron, her movements a little tipsy. She spoke with a slightly slurred voice to the two men in her life, "SoOoOo...everyone ready to go home yet? Hehe...hic..."
Merlin and Harry just nodded, both satisfied with the outcomes of a slightly burnt blonde-haired boy and distracted, burly gamekeeper. They headed off to an empty alley and teleported home in time for dinner, school supplies in hand and all happy in one way or another.
-----
"Now Harry, you promise to be on your best behavior, ok? If you need anything at all...help, food, maybe some laundry or flowers, just let us know and we'll be right there! Ok, honey?"
"Oh, the bloody...Harry can take care of himself, Nimue! Let the boy be."
"Well, he's still my son Merlin, and tomorrow's his first day of school...oh, I'm going to miss you so much..."
"It's alright mum...I'll be alright, and I'll see you on the holidays..."
"Oh, I know you'll be alright..."
"Then would you let the boy get some rest already? Honestly..."
"Just let me hold my boy for a little longer...you don't mind, do you, Harry?"
"No...but mum..."
"Yes, Harry?"
"...I...can't breathe..."
"NIMUE! You're going to kill him if you hold him any tighter!"
-----
For Harry Potter, that night would be the last night for a long time that he would sleep in the cave under Merlin's Mound. His surrogate family stayed in his room for most of the evening, as his surrogate mother seemed to have difficulties letting go of her only child, and his surrogate father tried to help pry him free so he can rest. Tomorrow, after all, would be the first day of the rest of his life, a new life in a new environment with new people and new adventures. Nimue offered to go with him, although such as idea was not feasible for a boarding school. The only demand Merlin made was for Harry to continue to practice his wandless magic, although he expects Harry to master the wand nonetheless. Despite his chagrin for the tool, it was important for Harry to master any and all forms of magic if he is to truly become great.
In his bed, Harry closed his eyes, slowly lulling himself into the comforting arms of rest. He awaited a wonderful dream to lead him into the wonderful reality of tomorrow, smiling and hopeful of the future to come.
-----
Harry opened his eyes.
The familiar rocky ceiling of his bedroom no longer stood before him. Instead, a dark veil with a texture of silk seemed to take its place in front of Harry's line of sight. He looked around, only to find nothing but the veil present. Fully dressed and standing instead of lying on his bed, Harry immediately assumed that he was in a dream. Why else would he find himself upright and fully dressed when the last action he took was fall asleep? Curious as to what this imaginary situation had to offer, the Boy Who Lived approached through the veil. Passing through it, a blinding light flashed into Harry's eyes. He blinked, only to open his eyes and see that he was suddenly falling from the sky. Panicked, Harry immediately thought of the best spells for the situation at hand.
Before he could use any, the veil suddenly returned, gliding through the sky towards him smoothly. It wrapped itself onto Harry, covering him from head to toe. The moment his eyes became covered, the sensation of falling disappeared, and he found himself standing on hard pavement. Flailing his arms to remove the veil, Harry found himself looking at a huge castle lit magically with torches as numerous as the stars. The castle appeared to be on an island, and Harry's deductive skills caused him to look down at his feet.
I'm standing on water, thought Harry.
SPLASH!
Well, he WAS standing on water.
The ground underneath him shattered like glass, causing Harry to fall into the water. He plunged deeper and deeper into the depths of an endless body of water that seemed to exist infinitely, with no end or borders in sight. He couldn't breathe at all, which scared him immensely. He thought, how could a dream feel so painfully real? Struggling to rise above the waters, Harry suddenly saw the veil reappear again, dispersing into the dark aquatic environment like a drop of blood dispersing into water. The veil surrounded him once again, and as the lack of air made Harry's lungs burn to the point of going unconscious, Harry could've sworn that he saw two glowing, crimson eyes appear within the murky depths.
That was when Harry woke up, panicked and perturbed, sweating at the sheer reality of his unexpected fantasy.
-----
Deep within the darkest mountains of a forgotten place, something stirred.
These mountains found themselves existing within a land of pure, unbridled darkness. The night had enveloped the landscape, a blanket of black covering the scene with its satin form. Not a single rock ever fell from this mass of rock, nor has any bird ever traversed the dead sky filling the spaces between this ancient land. Akin to Avalon, a mist thicker than blood creeped around, through, along, and inside this mountain range. Time seemed not to exist within this realm, for nothing moved or lived or acted or changed. This place merely existed.
But...something stirred. And with it came a sound so small that nothing in the universe could ever have heard it, especially in such a dark and forgotten place.
Yet the sound still existed. Something still stirred.
And suddenly...a scream.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
All at once, the mist recoiled as a sharp spear of sound pierced through its core, ripping it apart and away from the very mountainside. The mountains themselves shattered into rock and sand at the very force of the cry. Debris of the fallout flew everywhere, through the sea of darkness and into the nothingness. The very night found itself twisting away from the monstrous howl, a cacophony of ear-shattering noise seemingly tormenting its very existence.
The darkness receded, running away from the creature whose scream shattered the sky. The entity crawled through the wasteland of rubble with its bloodied hands and knees, its pale skin rippling with newfound life. Within the recoiling darkness crawled a being with glowing crimson eyes, breathing into its lungs the very darkness itself, as if it were feeding on the emptiness of the environment surrounding it.
Struggling after each movement, the solitary figure found itself alive once again, although fatigue and weakness ultimately overtook it. Before it could succumb to the slumber of the living, however, the night found itself hearing a final utterance before becoming consumed by the creature...
"Am...bro...sius..."
-----
Far away, Merlin woke up from his restful slumber, eyes wide open as a chill suddenly ran through his spine.
And the strangest thing was...he had no idea why.
-----
NEXT TIME: Magical Mystery Tour
-----
Author's Note:
"The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated."
Ok, so...what happened to me and my fic? 2 things.
#1: Reality. Homework, extracurriculars, and the need/desire to read/write new stuff all added onto my extensively long hiatus. Yes, I did indeed read the much-anticipated 5th HP book, although it doesn't affect my storyline at all, since so many fics out there already addressed the Harry/Voldemort connection...and frankly, I read them all.
#2: Writer's Block. Except the block was more like a planet. After introducing a new character, I found myself written into a corner that I never, EVER wanted to do...the name of the afforementioned character was given away not to incite a love interest, but rather to hint at something. At any rate, I revised my story, so her name has been subtracted...anybody who's gonna complain, well...the second I took her name out of the story was the second I began writing this fic again.
No, seriously.
Well...that and the e-mails. The fact that people actually care about my fic made me want to continue it...thanks to all the people who e-mailed and reviewed, forcing me to feel guilty enough to deal with my writer's block. As for the future of this fic...yes, I do plan on continuing it, although I'm not the most prolific of writers...I have other original fiction ideas that I've been pursuing.
As for the love interest...well, I'm still keeping that open. I mean, I have a particular choice that I'm leaning towards based on Harry's new personality, but the definite choice is still up for grabs.
Final note: The last few chapters were slightly revised to fit into my improved writing style, as well as the removal of my writer's block. Hope none of you are too ticked. Chapter 4 is almost finished, although the change that eliminated my writer's block did indeed alter some aspects of the story...hopefully I'll clean it up in under a year.
Again, I apologize for the lateness, and I'm really thankful to those of you who are still fans...again, reviews and e-mails are the only things that let me know this story's good enough for me to continue working on. While I love writing, I have so many ideas and projects that I don't always have the time I'd like to do them all, and because of your dedication I'm keeping this one alive. After all, a writer needs criticism, and this one fic's actually getting some. Thanks!
E-Mail: (feel free to e-mail me)
AIM: SeraphicZero (feel free to IM me, although I'm rarely online under that sn)
Mail: P.O. Box 459 (feel free to send me money! j/k...maybe)