Unfortunately for Merlin, sleepless nights were something that he was growing used to. Falling asleep at night was difficult enough, but with all of the nightmares that attacked him when he finally did slip out of consciousness, it was next to impossible to stay asleep for long. Merlin kept waking up a few hours before the sun broke over the horizon. He tried to reason to himself that being the first — and only — one up was a good thing. It gave him plenty of alone time to read ahead in his class books. He had more than enough time to complete all of the work he was assigned to do as well. Being the first one to breakfast wasn't all that bad either. Slowly, the lack of sleep began to take its toll, though, especially on his newly young body.
The castle itself was easy to navigate. Hogwarts was vastly different than Camelot, but there were some similarities that Merlin recognized which made it easier to navigate. From the days that Merlin spent in the castle before the start of the term, he had the basic outlay of the buildings and grounds already. Now, he was just filling in more details.
Merlin had the pattern of the stairs down. He knew which ones moved and could almost always predict when and where they would move or if they had a vanishing step halfway up. He was aware of the doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending.
Merlin felt bad for the struggling students who found no help from the ghosts — or worse Peeves. He tried to help out when he could, making many of the first years like him. Even a few of the Slytherin students begrudgingly let him help when they found themselves alone and lost.
He was slowly becoming an expert on how to move around the castle, both regularly and undetected like he was back in Camelot. When a night was really bad, be would sometime take to tailing the caretaker, Filch, around to learn the different secret passages. He also became acquainted with Fred and George, the twin brothers of Ron, who was in his year. They occasionally showed him some of the secrets that Hogwarts had to offer.
The classes were something to get used to for the Warlock. He had pretty much always been self-taught, learning from the book given to him by Gaius and from books in Camelot's library. The classroom setting was completely foreign to him and he was struggling to adapt to it. It probably didn't help that his lack of sleep was making it difficult to focus. It puzzled and aggravated him that is was hard to fall asleep when he was in bed, but surprisingly difficult to stay awake during class. Merlin tried his best, though. Despite what Arthur believed, Merlin was not lazy. He was extremely hardworking and wouldn't back down from a challenge just because it proved to be difficult.
Astronomy was interesting enough. They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movement of the planets. Merlin had never paid that much attention to the skies before, but it was shocking to learn what was actually out there past the earth and how much the knowledge of it increased since his time.
Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and found out what they were used for. Merlin took comfort in this class because it reminded him of having to pick herbs for Gaius.
History of Magic was one of the classes Merlin was really looking forward to. He was extremely interested in what had happened during the time that he skipped. His excitement faded considerably when he met the teacher, Professor Binns. With Binns droning on and on, the class was the most difficult for Merlin to focus and stay awake in.
Charms was a class that Merlin could see himself excel in, and he found the teacher to be amusing. Professor Flitwick was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk.
Transfiguration with McGonagall instantly caught his attention when she changed her desk into a pig and back again. He almost laughed when they were told that they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. The first 'transfiguration' that Merlin had done was turning a statue into a real dog. After having to take a lot of complicated notes — Merlin mainly just listened, learning best by doing rather than writing — they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. He took some time before trying himself, watching the class struggle. Hermione Granger was the only one he saw make any difference to her match, turning it sliver and pointy. After a few tries, Merlin successfully turned his match into a needle. McGonagall was completely astonished in his ability to do so, making Merlin concerned that he was showing to be too good. He didn't want them to think he was all that powerful. In his experience, people fear power.
The Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts was a bit of a letdown. Quirrell seemed too timid to teach his subject properly. Merlin was also getting a funny feeling from him and wanted to spend as little time as possible with the man.
On Friday, Merlin was joined by Ron in the Great Hall for breakfast. He was beaming at the fact that he made it there without getting lost once.
"If you walk with me to breakfast, you would never get lost," Merlin teased the boy.
"And have to wake up early enough for that? No, thank you. What time to do even get up? Or do you not go to bed at all? You know, there is a rumor going around between the other Gryffindor boys in first year that you are actually a vampire. I'm mean, you've got the pale skin, dark hair, and you never seem to actually sleep..." Ron trailed off.
"I do sleep," Merlin defended himself, feigning hurt.
"Sleeping in class doesn't count," Ron countered with a laugh.
Ron tended to stick around Merlin quite a bit, seemingly not getting along with the others just as well. Merlin didn't mind the company. He found the redhead to be fun to talk to and banter with. He was always careful to not get too close, though, both in the fact that he didn't want to be discovered and because he still was trying to hang on to his friends back in Camelot. Getting close and making other friends felt too much like letting go of them, and Merlin wasn't ready for that yet.
"What have we got today?" Merlin asked, changing the subject.
"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron, a disgusted look on his face.
Merlin just shrugged as the mail arrived. He had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps. It was strange the things that Merlin was becoming used to now.
Merlin hadn't received anything in the mail yet, mainly because he didn't have an owl in the first place and also because he didn't know anyone who would send him mail. So, he was taken by surprise when an owl came and dropped a note in front of him.
The note turned out to be from Hagrid, who was asking if he wanted to go meet up with him. The half giant had been nothing but kind to him since they met, so Merlin didn't have the heart to turn him down, even though he wasn't feeling that up to it. Borrowing Ron's quill, he wrote a response on the back of the note confirming that he would be there and sent the owl off with it.
Snape stalked into his classroom and started the class by taking the roll call. He suspected the class to be interesting, considering he had both his godson and the Emrys boy in it. He treated it no different from any other class, though, and launched into his first-year speech.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper but knew that they caught every word. He knew how to keep the class silent and make them pay attention to what he was saying. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
He paused to gauge his audience. Most looked intimidated, making Snape smirk a bit on the inside. A couple looked bored out of their mind, while some didn't react all that much. Very few looked excited. He really appreciated it when he had students that enjoyed potion making almost as much as he did.
"Emrys!" said Snape suddenly, deciding to put his knowledge to the test. He usually started the terms with seeing if any had read from the books before coming to class. The older years usually catch on and do so, but the younger ones rarely do, leaving Snape to humiliate them into studying more and being prepared. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Said boy jumped slightly, apparently not have been paying all that much attention beforehand. Snape began to feel smug, thinking that he wouldn't know the answer. To his surprise, Emrys just rubbed his eyes before answering," a sleeping potion, right? Draught of Living Death, or something like that."
Snape paused for a second, momentarily thrown off, having not expected him to answer correctly. He quickly recovered and followed with another question.
"Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Emrys looked around the room before pointing to his storage cupboard. "In there," he replied, causing some students to chuckle.
"Your humor is not appreciated," Snape said. "Try again."
Emrys' forehead crinkled as he thought for a second. Snape could see the exact moment when the boy came up with an answer. He looked up with a smile on his face and said, "It's a stone... from a goat's stomach."
"Correct," Snape said impressed, but managed to hide it. He didn't necessarily want to add to the already large smile on the boy's face. He addressed the class this time. "It seems that someone opened his book before coming to class. This better mean that the rest of you did as well. Can anyone tell me the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Only one hand went up. The hand belonged to the bushy-haired Gryffindor girl, who had it stretched as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat.
"Only one other person read before daring to step into my classroom?" he said, many of the students avoiding his direct glare. "Ms. Granger."
"Monkshood and wolfsbane are different names for the same plant, so there is essentially no difference between the two," she answered in one breath.
"Yes, and it also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. The Professor noticed a distinct lack of note taking from Emrys but decided to not comment on it. It was likely that he already knew the answer to the third question as well.
He put all of the students into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils and began carefully watching them work. He took pride in his godson's potions making, and complemented Draco by pointing out how he was doing things correctly unlike many others. Neville Longbottom was one of those others. Longbottom had somehow managed to melt Seamus Finnigan's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Longbottom, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potions away with one wave of his wand. He didn't understand how the boy could have messed up such a simple potion so bad. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. Blatantly miss-following directions irritated Snape to no end.
"Take him up to the hospital wing," he said to the potions partner. He knew that Longbottom was going to be fine soon enough. Maybe the discomfort he felt now would encourage him to follow directions better in the future.
Thankfully, there were no more incidents for the rest of the class. That was until he spied a sleeping Morgan Emrys towards the end of his class.
He told the class to bottle up what they had, even if it wasn't finished, and stopped his partner, Hermione Granger, from waking him up. "Leave him," he told her. Soon, everyone had walked out of the classroom, leaving him with the sleeping boy. He took a few minutes to walk around, waving his wand to send unused supplies back to where they belonged.
He heard muttering and turned to look back at Emrys, who was now jerking in his sleep. A moment later, he jerked awake, falling out of his seat onto his hand and knees, yelling, "Arthur!"
Emrys looked around wildly, his breathing shallow and frantic. He crawled backwards until his back hit the wall. Leaning against it, he appeared to be struggling to get his breathing under control.
Snape didn't say anything as he stared at the panicked eleven-year-old, instantly understanding why he was so tired he fell asleep after completing his potion. He felt a small twinge of sympathy for the boy. He tried to shove it away, but it refused to waver. Snape knew what he needed to do.
Slowly approaching the boy, he spoke a bit softer than usual. "The class is over. You slept through the end of it," he said disapprovingly. He wanted to make sure that Emrys knew where he was and that he wasn't still back in whatever nightmare he had.
"Right." His breathing was back under control, but his voice was a little shaky.
"I suggest you gather your stuff and get to where ever you have to be next," Snape said, hoping that it would further bring him back to reality.
Emrys slowly stood up and took his time packing away his things, never once looking over in Snape's direction. On his way out, Snape stopped him briefly saying, "I expect you to report to my office at nine tonight. Is that understood?"
With a nod, Emrys left.
At five to three, Merlin found himself leaving the castle with Ron by his side. The redhead insisted on going with him so that he could meet Hagrid. Merlin didn't put up a fight against the idea. He was still a little shaken up from his nap during potions class and Snape seeing him like that. Merlin had taken great care to never let his roommates know about his nightmares. He closed the curtains when he went to bed and placed silencing charms around him.
Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.
When Merlin knocked, they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang — back."
Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.
"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."
He let them in, struggling to keep hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. Merlin had never seen a dog as big as it before.
There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasant were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.
"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Merlin laughed. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.
"This is Ron," Merlin told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.
"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."
The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Merlin and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons. The rock cakes may have not been the best, but Merlin would have happily taken them over having to eat rat again any day.
While Ron and Hagrid discussed their mutual dislike for Filch and his cat, Mrs. Norris, Merlin picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet, describing a break-in at the Gringotts bank.
"Huh," Merlin said. "Gringotts was broken into the day that I was there. Hey, you were there too, right, Hagrid?"
There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Merlin's eyes. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Merlin read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day.
Hagrid had been at Gringotts on some sort of important business. Based on that and the way the half giant was acting now, Merlin believed that it was Hagrid who emptied it. That meant he knew where the belongings of the vault were now and — more importantly — whatever it was that drove the thief to break in.
As Merlin and Ron walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse, Merlin thought about the break-in. The business that Hagrid was doing that day was for Dumbledore, he said. If that was true, and if Hagrid was the one to empty the broken into the vault, then whatever was in the vault was likely to be at Hogwarts now. Maybe that is why the third-floor corridor was off limits. It was because whatever was in the vault was not hidden there.
Merlin became increasingly curious as to what was on the third corridor.
Merlin found himself standing outside Snape's office door at nine that night. He was kinda nervous, but he pushed it aside and opened the door without knocking.
"It's common courtesy to knock before entering a room," Snape said when he walked in.
Merlin gave a cheeky smile, remembering all the times Arthur had complained about his inability to knock before barging in. He closed the door and walked up to stand in front of the desk.
"I've never really knocked before. I'm accustom to just walking in," he said honestly.
"Well, maybe it is time you should learn some manners," Snape drawled. "Anyway, take this." Snape held up a small potion bottle.
Merlin hesitantly took the bottle from his hand and studied it. The liquid inside was a purple color.
"Relax," Snape said. "It is a potion for dreamless sleep. It will help you sleep at night."
The realization of what Snape was giving Merlin hit the Warlock hard. In his hand, he held what would hold the bad memories that had constantly been plaguing him at bay. Merlin was speechless as he gripped the bottle tighter, not wanting it the fall and break.
"You can come back here each night at this time, and I will give you another one for that night. This is only a temporary solution to whatever it is going on. I will not continue to give them to you forever. I suggest you find other ways to help, like talking to someone. You don't have to talk to me, if you don't want to. Your Head of House or even the Headmaster are people that can help."
Merlin looked up at Snape, a smile masking the overwhelming feeling that he had on the inside. "I didn't know you cared so much about me," he teased, trying to lighten the mood.
"I just don't want you sleeping in my class again," Snape replied, not phasing Merlin one bit. He could tell that the Professor did care if only a little bit, even if he didn't want to admit it to himself too.
"Night," Merlin said, walking towards the door. He paused after he opened it, hovering at the threshold, the wooden door pushing against him. "And thank you, Snape." With that, he left.
Not too long later, Merlin was laying down in his bed, an empty bottle beside him, as he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
"How kind of you to join us, Severus," Minerva said in a chiding tone the moment he walked into the Headmaster's office.
"My apologies," he replied, not apologetic at all. "I was dealing with another matter, one concerning Morgan Emrys.
"What sort of matter," Albus asked, rising from his seat next to the other Professor's.
"I've begun administering the potion for dreamless sleep to him. Apparently, he has been plagued with nightmares for some time, preventing him from sleeping at night. He fell asleep towards the end of my class, only to jerk awake shouting."
"Did he say what the nightmares were about or what was causing them," Minerva asked horrified and concerned.
"He did not. I told him that he should talk to someone to help him. I suggested myself as well as the two of you. I did, however, learn of one thing. What he shouted was the name 'Arthur'. Does that mean anything to either of you?"
Both took a moment to think.
"Is it possible that he is referring to Arthur Weasley?" Albus asked. "It's the only Arthur that I can think of right now."
"He does seem to be friends with Ronald Weasley. I've even seen him conversing with the twins a few times," Minerva suggested.
"I will look into it," Albus said. "Is there anything else worth mentioning about the boy?"
"He doesn't pay all that much attention," Minerva began. "Now thinking about it, it was likely due to his lack of sleep. He barely takes any notes, and yet he somehow excelled beyond the rest of the students. He was the only one to completely transfigure a match into a needle. I don't know if I have ever taught a first year who was able to do that on the first day."
"He appeared to hold exceptional knowledge and skill in my class as well. He correctly answered my questions, and I could find no fault in his and Ms. Granger's potion," Snape added.
"This is all very interesting indeed," Albus said.
Please leave a review.