Merlin was almost suprised by how much Hogwarts hadn't changed. The hidden passageways, the moving staircases (a prank gone wrong), and only a few new portraits. As he walked alongside Draco on their way to Tranfiguration, they began to whisper louder and louder. Merlin smiled a little. He knew it was only a matter of time until his fellow founders knew he had returned. He didn't want to approach them yet, he needed to find the right words. He sent out a silent message to the inhabitants of the paintings to not inform the Headmistress or the staff of his sudden appearance. He was here to learn and observe, not to teach and be observed.
"Marvin!" Came a sharp voice to his right. He snapped his head up. Apperantly he had become caught up in his own thoughts again. "Are you in there?" Draco continued with a slight drawl to his voice.
"Sorry, wasn't paying attention. What is it?" Merlin asked sheepishly.
"We are here." Draco said snappily as he strode into the room. He took a seat in the back left of the classroom and Merlin sat to his left. The first thing Merlin did was silently cast a glamour on his eyes so they wouldn't light up gold when he cast magic. He then cunjured a stick that looked like the one he had shown to Hermione the previous day. He then began to carve it with a small knife that he conjured into his pocket. By the time all of the students had filed in Merlin had a decently presentable wand.
Thankfully, Draco simply looked at him for a few minutes before opening his textbook and prereading the first chapter.
The woman from the previous day, the Headmistress, swept into the room. Merlin furrowed his brows, wondering why she was in this class. The woman opened her mouth and began to speak.
"Most of you may be wondering why I am still at my teaching post now that I have become the Headmistress. The answer is simply that I enjoy my job and do not wish to trade it in for sitting in an office and looking at papers. I am going to be your Transfiguration teacher. For those of you who do not know me," At this she looked back at Merlin pointedly, "My name is Professor McGonagall. Now, will you all take out your wands and participate in a few simple exercises so that I may asses your skill at this particular section of magic. First I will be giving you eggs. I would like you to transfigure them to be decorative eggs. They must be made of a matter other than shell, and do try to make them hollow. I do not want you to drop them and find yourself with an unfortunate mess. They must also be decorated. The more detailed the design, the better." She waved her wand and an egg laid upon everyone's table. "You may begin"
Merlin was beginning to like this woman. She seemed to be a no-nonsense sort of person that he could come to respect. His gaze then shifted to the egg upon his desk. He began to brainstorm designs. He decided to make the egg a tribute to Camelot at its finest. He waved his stick and pretended to mumble some words and turned the egg into a work of art.
Draco's eyes bulged out of his head. The Ravenclaw behind him nearly shrieked. McGonagall herself hurried over to see what the ruckus was about. She stopped in her tracks as she took in the image of Merlin's egg-squisite egg.
It had become roughly the size and shape of Aithusa's egg. The actual egg was a rich Camelot red. The egg was covered in very thin webs of silver, as if a spider had made it it's home. The front of the egg held a gold engraving of a dragon in perfect detail. The dragon was breathing ruby flames, coming out of his golden snout between pearl teeth. The eye was a small dot of citrine on its well sculpted face, and it looked as though it could fly off of the egg at a moments notice.
The back of the egg was a different type of masterpiece. The egg had been hollowed, and within in was a miniature world. A castle stood above a town, soaring high into the top of the egg. It, too, was in perfect detail. The small people walking around the town had miniscule smiles on their faces, and one could make out a group of knights riding out of the courtyard with two people at the head of the group: one with fair hair, and the other with locks the color of raven wings.
The egg was being held up by a stand, an stand of people looking upwards with arms raised and smiles on their faces. It was carved out of wood, as if hand made by a master. Their hands cradled the egg with care, working together to keep it balanced and standing. One could see an old man with shoulder length hair, a knight, and a woman with beautiful ringlets standing together, united, as one to keep the fragile work of art from falling.
All in all, it was the most beautiful thing many of them would see in their entire lives.