Chapter 14: Blubber and nitwit

Albus Dumbledore was sucking on a new sweet he picked up in a Muggle shop. The shopkeeper promised it was the best raspberry candy he had. Albus agreed. The flavor swirled around in his mouth and the sweetness was just enough to satisfy his craving while not overwhelming his taste buds. It was a treat worth being addicted to.

"Yes, please, come in," he said after hearing a soft knock.

He had called for Merlin and was looking forward to the report on Harry, but moreover, he wanted to keep an eye on the sorcerer who, as well-intentioned as he might be, was also a wild card with no real obligation to be here.

Merlin walked in and paused to scan the room. It was quite remarkable that this young raven-haired boy was the same powerful sorcerer Albus had known for decades. He played the role of a helpless child very convincingly, down to a naive expression and clumsy demeanor. Only his eyes stayed the same, betraying sly confidence only someone as overpowered as Merlin could possess.

There were potions a wizard could use to appear younger but the results were temporary. Even the Elixir of Life Nicolas Flamel invented required continued consumption in order to prolong the alchemist's life. Merlin's aging magic wasn't the same. It allowed him to physically change his age, to actually become younger or older, and the spell would hold as long as the sorcerer will it.

Out of nowhere, the portrait of Heliotrope Wilkins spoke up from the wall, "Is that you, Merlin? Look at you, so dashingly young!"

Merlin looked up at her, and it took him a moment to recognize her, but finally, he smiled and waved. "Lady Heliotrope, lovely as always."

The other portraits of past Hogwarts Headmasters woke up and started murmuring among each other, each one appraising him. Even the four founders stirred in their frames, eyeing Merlin with a variety of expressions.

Albus didn't know much about Heliotrope as her portrait rarely ever spoke. He made a mental note to look her up later, now curious about the circumstances of how she might have met Merlin. But for now, he thought it was problematic that someone recognized him. Hogwarts portraits had a tendency to talk to each other.

He addressed them, "I must ask all of you to not disclose Merlin's identity to the other paintings. It's vital that his presence here remains secret."

The portraits all agreed, and Merlin continued looking around.

"Have any other paintings recognized you?"

"Just my own," Merlin said. "Most wizards know me as an old man. It's a shame, that's the most useful age, but I've used it too often, and I'm too recognizable now."

"How have your first weeks at Hogwarts been?"

Merlin shrugged and sat down in the comfy chair Albus pointed to. "All is well. I'm still trying to get used to being a child. It sucks being this short."

"Candy?" Albus offered him a raspberry treat but Merlin refused. He sat behind his desk and looked at the young sorcerer from under his half-moon spectacles, trying to decipher his mood. "Anything not to your liking? Is the food good? Is your bed comfortable?"

"You're spoiling me, Albus. I spent a good chunk of my life sleeping on the ground. It doesn't take much to impress me. My accommodations are fine, and the food is great. I might visit the Kitchens to praise the elves myself."

"They will most appreciate it. How is Harry?"

Merlin sighed and helped himself to the candy after all. "Oh, yes, Harry."

There was something in his tone Albus couldn't decipher. "Is there a problem?"

Did Harry find trouble this early in the year? Did Voldemort make his plans known already? What did Merlin find out?

"It's a Phoenix!" Merlin exclaimed and ran up to the crimson bird perching on the other side of the room. "How did you domesticate him?"

Albus felt a little smug for having impressed his immortal friend. "With perseverance. Meet Fawkes."

Fawkes was close to his burning day, so he didn't look his best, but even with only half the feathers, he was still beautiful as far as Albus was concerned.

"Visit us again in a few weeks after he burns, so you could see him in his usual fabulous glory."

"Have you had a chance to put his healing powers to test?" Merlin asked while sucking on the candy.

"Yes, on more than one occasion. His tears are very potent."

"Nice work, Albus. I've tried to tame a bird like that once, but they're too finicky. Dragons are easier to domesticate."

"I'd choose a Phoenix over a dragon anytime." Albus folded his hands over his abdomen.

Merlin shot him a fleeting glare, like he was ready to fight him on that but stopped by a shelf containing five small ceramic bowls stacked on top of each other.

"Whose grave did you rob?" Merlin asked.

Albus smoothed out his long beard. "I inherited them from the previous headmaster."

Merlin shook his head. "They're ceremonial burial bowls. They might be bad luck, Albus. You should bury them in sacred ground."

Albus supposed it wasn't surprising. The castle was full of dangerous artifacts passed down over the generations, the purpose of which could only be guessed at. Even the Founders had left some behind. The Sorting Hat belonged to Godric Gryffindor at one time.

As Merlin turned, his robe caught the bottom bowl, it hobbled in place and then the whole stack toppled over and fell off the shelf. Merlin's eyes flashed like golden ambers and the bowls froze in the air right before crashing to the floor. Albus never understood why Merlin's magic was so different. He had never seen anyone else's eyes change color when they performed spells.

"That," Merlin said, breathing heavily, "would have been very bad luck."

The bowls flew back to the shelf where they neatly stacked themselves. Merlin walked away from them backwards, keeping his eyes on the shelf, careful to not touch anything else.

Albus blinked a few times, wondering how close he might have come to a magical disaster but then realized that Merlin had distracted him again.

"How about we get back to the topic of Harry, dear friend?"

He gestured for them to take a seat, but Merlin ignored it and continued walking around the room, this time keeping a small distance from the objects and studying them from afar.

"Harry is not easy to befriend," he said. "It's working against me that I'm younger than him. He's mostly just ignoring me."

"That's unfortunate," Albus said and smoothed out his beard. He didn't see this coming. "Perhaps he needs more time."

It was in everyone's best interest that Merlin joined Harry's close circle of friends. With the trials awaiting him, Harry could use a secret weapon hiding in plain sight. Would letting him in on the plan make matters better or worse? No, perhaps not until they gave the original plan a fair try.

"Ooh, it's one of those things." Merlin approached the pensive in the corner of the room, curiously peered over it, and closed his eyes. "Whoa. This is making me loopy."

"Have you never used a pensive before?"

"I don't really need it. I can read a memory by touching the vial containing it," Merlin said casually and walked away to check another item. He said it so lightly as if it was the simplest task in the world, but Albus had never heard of anyone with an ability like that.

This was typical. Merlin had a tendency to drop a clue of ability or obscure knowledge but did not part with details easily. Listening to him talk was like sitting in a room full of newspapers, each one flashing a catchy headline, but being unable to turn their pages to read the full story. His immortal friend had many secrets Albus only scratched at the surface of.

"Touching the vials is like getting a vision," Merlin added, "although better put together, easier to understand. Is that how you see it in the pensive?"

Merlin had never spoken of visions before. The myths about him suggested that he was a Seer. Was it true?

"By vision, do you mean the future? Prophecies?"

Merlin turned around and waved a finger at him. "Don't get excited, Albus. Visions of the future are not really all that useful."

"But you can see it?"

"Not by myself. It usually requires… help," he finished with a sly smile, and Albus understood that he was not going to hear what that help was.

"I saw Voldemort coming centuries ago," Merlin continued with all humour gone. His eyes had a faraway look as he recalled the memory. "I didn't understand what I saw and couldn't stop it from happening when the time came. It's always like that. I can never prevent what happens in the visions. I simply get to relive them in person. Knowing the future isn't really all it promises to be. I prefer to stay away from it. I don't want to know."

He came back to Fawkes and reached his hand toward him, but the bird moved away and flapped his wings in a warning.

"I disagree," Albus said, coming closer. "Harry's prophecy gives us hope that there is a way to destroy Voldemort."

"Harry's prophecy doomed him when he was only a baby and cost him his parents. How many more people will die while we're waiting for Harry to grow up? I'm torn."

Merlin started to pace in front of Fawkes.

"The logical thing for me to do would be to search for Voldemort and find a way to defeat him. But deep down, I have this feeling that I should stay away from this matter, that I don't belong in this fight." He stopped pacing. "Am I making a mistake? Am I dooming Harry by leaving the fight to him?"

Fawkes made a demanding little squawk, so Albus stroked his feathers. "I trust in Harry. For such a young lad, he is brave and has a pure, selfless heart. He inspires unwavering loyalty in his friends and pushes them to be their best."

"The way you speak of him, it reminds me of someone," Merlin said with a smile.

Before the immortal sorcerer could get lost in his memories, Albus returned to the immediate problem.

"But your talents can still be useful. It might be Harry's fight, but we can't expect him to do it alone. He needs friends to stand by him, powerful friends. We need to give you a chance to get closer to him."

"What do you have in mind?" Merlin asked, helping himself to another candy from Albus's desk and getting comfortable in the chair again.

Albus stroked his beard while thinking. Harry had pretty good instincts. He would get suspicious over Merlin if Albus tried to force the boy on him. Maybe Merlin needed a side door into Harry's circle of friends.

"Merlin, I believe you're in need of tutoring."

Merlin froze and asked with candy between his teeth. "What?"

"What subject would you say you are performing the worst in?"

"Fine, I'll bite. Transfiguration. I was trying so hard to not do the spell, McGonagall now thinks I'm a lost cause," he chuckled.

Albus could bet Minerva wouldn't feel as amused by being the butt of Merlin's joke.

"Excellent. I know a perfect tutor for you."

"Harry?"

"No. I'll have your tutor get in touch with you. We should follow the usual channels."

Albus started writing his note and thinking up the best way to phrase the request to entice the tutor's cooperation. Merlin resumed walking around his office. From time to time, he'd pick something up to investigate it and make a little comment about it. Albus continuously found himself pulled away from his simple task of writing a note. The more time he spent with Merlin, the more questions he had. Whether in his adult or child form, the sorcerer was an enigma. Albus wanted to see the best in him but often wondered if he should be cautious. One does not become immortal without paying a price. What was Merlin's price?

"What?" Merlin asked, and Albus blinked to bring himself back to the present. Apparently, he was staring at him so intently that he didn't notice the boy approaching. That was rather rude of him, wasn't it?

"Blubber and nitwit," Albus blabbered, trying to recover the use of his brain.

Merlin chuckled and sat in front of him. "Not fun getting old, huh? I like turning myself into your age, I like how people treat me then—I can get away with anything—but I don't like everything physical that comes with it."

A soft knocking sound surprised them, and they both looked up to see who came to visit.

Minerva walked in and was taken aback by seeing young Merlin there. "I can come back, Headmaster, if you're busy."

"Please, come in, Minerva. Merlin was leaving anyway."

"Right. Good talk, Albus." Merlin got up and smiled. "I'll see you around."

"Bye, Merlin," Heliotrope said overhead, and the boy winked at her.

He grabbed one more raspberry sweet for the road, inclined his head at Minerva politely, saying, "Professor," and left.

Albus sat down in his chair, finishing the note to arrange the tutoring. It was very convenient that Minerva was in his office. She would be the perfect person to deliver the request. When he was done, she was still looking at the doorway Merlin had disappeared into. It wasn't unusual for Albus to have students in his office, so what stunned her so?

She turned to him and finally said what was on her mind, "Did he just call you Albus?"