Chapter 3

Gesturing for him to follow, the figure started walking down one of the corridors off the chamber they were currently in. The corridor seemed to get dimmer as they continued, until, with no warning, the figure stopped. He reached out a hand and started running it over a section of the wall. As he did so, runic symbols appeared and started to glow and pulse with different shades of red and blue.

Suddenly, a doorway appeared, and the figure gestured for Harry to enter. As he did, he felt a wave of magic wash over the room he now appeared to be in. Startled, he turned to see the doorway shrinking to nothing. To his surprise, the cloaked figure's head was no longer covered. He'd recognize those steely-gray eyes and white-blond hair anywhere. What he didn't recognize was the look of true happiness on the face of his former enemy. 'Or was that arranged, too?' thought Harry.

Deciding that he didn't need to worry about that just yet, Harry squared his shoulders and turned to observe his new surroundings. He got about halfway around the room when he noticed a figure in the room with him.

A gentleman about his own age it appeared. The man was dressed in robes hemmed with runic symbols. Harry thought they were the same as the ones that appeared on the doorway, but couldn't be sure. The man had dark blond hair, tied back with a piece of worked leather and bright green eyes. This startled Harry further, as he knew very few wizards had green eyes. It was a rare trait that was carried down through magical blood.

"Harry," said the man in a deep voice, "I've been waiting for you. I wasn't sure if you would ever come."

"You knew? You knew I was betrayed by everyone?"

"Correction, Harry. I knew, but not like you think. You see, I dreamed of it, long before you were even born."

Harry stood there with his mouth agape. 'How is this possible? Who is this man? How can he know me?' thought Harry.

"Now Harry, let me answer some of your questions. I know you, because before Albus Severus Potter was born, you were my last Heir. Unlike most bloodlines, where the elders use their blood-line choose their family's Heirs, my magic claims the Heir to my bloodline, identifying them with green eyes."

He let this information sink in for a moment before continuing. "Yes, this also means that your mother before you was my Heir. She was not a muggle-born as was perpetuated, but the first flare of magic in 300 years in my bloodline. As to my identity, I am Merlin."

Harry was floored by this and started to back away from this obviously crazy wizard.

"Harry, let me explain."

"No! Merlin has been dead over a thousand years, he was an old man when he died, and he certainly didn't know my name!" declared Harry.

"Harry, there is a good reason for all of this. Just listen, and if you still think it's impossible, then you may go freely and of your own will." said Merlin.

Harry appeared to think about it, then settled into a chair to listen.