Chapter 4
Chapter 4
It took less than a second for a dozen hands to fly into the air.
“Dark hair with a bob cut.” Merlin pointed to a girl with a green tie.
“Why have we never heard of you before now? Slytherins can only be pureblood wizards and I didn’t know you existed.”
He wasn’t sure about the pureblood part so he didn’t note it. “I was in the countryside for many years. I didn’t know Hogwarts was like this till I came back last summer. I got a job and am still learning the ways of this world.”
“Fluffy hair.” He pointed at a Gryffindor but cut her off before she could start. “Wait. Say your name with your question please.” he pointed to the last one to go. “Can you say yours real fast?”
“Millicent Bulstrode, sir.”
“Thank you. Just so you guys know. You don’t have to call me sir if you don’t want to. I'm terribly informal.” He’d always hated titles anyways. He motioned back to Gryffindor. “Now you can go. Sorry about that.”
“Where is your wand? You don’t seem to have one and anytime we casted anything in other classes you were standing in you never pulled one out. You’d give the professor a weird look and it would just happen with no spell.”
“Well. It’s an odd situation. I don’t have a wand. I learned to do magic without a wand and without verbal spells in most cases. It’s a different kind of magic so I’m learning about your way now. Olivander should have my wand made by Yule for me.”
“Boy in the blue sweater vest.”
“Neville Longbottom.” He paused for a moment, trying to organize his thoughts and Merlin left him be. By what he saw he needed a kind person to be around. “I thought Olivander didn’t really make wands anymore. How did none of his work for you?”
Merlin’s face grew a little red. “Um. Well, I kinda made a couple wands explode when I touched them. I guess they really don’t like me so he’s making a wand that should do better with a different core.” A few hands went up. “With dragon scale core.” the hands went down.
“White hair.”
“Draco Malfoy, professor. You said your name was Merlin. Were you named after the sorcerer from King Arthur's time?”
Merlin went completely taunted for a moment. He should have expected this but he froze all the same. Remembering everything in a split second. His eyes focused and he looked at the class that was watching him curiously, he must have zoned out for longer than he thought. “I was named after the falcon.”
“That’s enough questions for today.” he called and the rest of the hands went down reluctantly. “Now that we’re settled and ready to learn can anybody tell me where magic comes from?”
Minerva laughed as he walked into his office. She was playing muggle chess with Remus as they both had their last period off. Merlin walked in and laid straight onto the rug in front of the still going fireplace.
“That bad of a first day?”
“Yes, it was that bad Minerva. Every class asked me if I was named after the ‘oh so wonderful sorcerer Merlin’. Merlin wasn’t even a sorcerer and when I told them I was named after a bird they were like, ‘oh. We didn’t know there was a bird called Merlin. Were they named after the sorcerer?’ No, it was not. The bird was there before Merlin was!”
Remus frowned, he knew it really bugged Merlin when people asked about his name sake but he never understood or pushed on why. He always froze and got a hazy look in his eyes. Like he was remembering something that happened long ago. So he would change the topic and carry on like nothing happened.
“What do you mean Merlin wasn’t a sorcerer? He was the greatest wizard ever born!”
Minerva was a lot more blunt, she knew it bugged him but she also knew it was good to talk about because people would always bring it up if he was there and he needed to get used to it.
“Merlin wasn’t a sorcerer. He was a warlock. At that time sorcerers and sorceresses learned magic, it was an art. Warlocks and witches were born with magic and their power came straight from the Earth and the Triple Goddess. It was stronger magic than anyone could ever learn and harder to control. A loss of emotion could make a storm come crashing onto the village or city.” His words were kind of muffled as he was lying face down into the fluffy rug but they managed to understand.
“How do you know that?” Minerva asked, settling down into a chair next to him.
“There’s a reason he’s the History of Magic professor, the real question is if he is a Warlock. He had the weird, different, “he amended his word choice after Minerva shot him a look. “magic and his eyes do the glowy thing. He doesn’t follow the rules of magic, everything he does is purely instinctual.”
“Yes Remus. I’m a warlock.”
“Are you Merlin? Like, “The Merlin” Merlin?”
Merlin froze again before rolling over to his back and sighing deeply. He rubbed his face. “What gave it away?”
“Wait?!” Minerva screeched. “You’re “The Merlin”!”
“Yes Nera.” Merlin nodded. “I’m “The Merlin”. I’m not named after the one from King Arthur's time, I am the one from the time of King Arthur.”
“God. No wonder you hate when people use your name as a curse.”
‘Exactly! Do you know how bad it is when people say ‘Merlin’s beard’ and I go on to say that I don’t have a beard. “The movies are even worse, I’ve been older than this once in my life and it was because of a spell.”
“You don’t age?”
“Well. I guess I could if I wanted to but it’s been around 15 hundred years since Arthur died and I don’t like being old. I want to be just the same when he comes back. He won’t recognize me if I let myself age and I revert back to about 20 every time I day anyway. It’s easier to just stay.”
“You’ve died?” Minerva slid off the chair to sit criss cross on the rug by Merlin. Remus followed suit quickly.
“I’ve been alive for 15 hundred years, Nerva. I’ve lived and died through 2 world wars. Fought on thousands of battlefields. I died dozens of times before I would have been 25. I’ve drunken poisons, been kidnapped, tortured, hung, burned alive, buried alive once, left to die from injuries and I always made it back to Arthur in one piece. More or less at least. Now it’s time for him to come back.”
They were silent for a long time.
“Tell me.” Minerva began. “Tell me the whole story. From the beginning.”
“You sure? It’s long and not the happiest.”
“Yes. We can’t help you if you don’t talk to us Merlin.” Remus added, taking his hand to pull Merlin into a sitting position.
“In a land of myth, and a time of magic, the destiny of a great kingdom rested on the shoulders of a young boy. His name… Merlin.”
And so Merlin began a story. His story. A story of a young boy, a bastard, from a small village in Cenreds kingdom who went to Camelot to be a physician and instead became the prince's manservant. The story of love between people, hate between people and magic, and the story of everyone else. Minerva cried when people died, Freya, Balinor, Will. Remus laughed with the stories of Gwaine and how he would steal food from the kitchens. They both frowned at Agrivanes snide remarks and Morgana’s hate. They cried again and held Merlin as he cried as Morgana was poisoned. They panicked at his magic reveal ‘aww’d at his wedding. They cried at Arthur's death and stayed silent as he spoke of abandoning Camelot till Gwen made him rule once more, even if he was ruling alone. They held him as he spoke of everything that happened since with confusion as he mentioned Leon in France till he explained that he was also immortal and had been alive since the beginning of Camelot. Everything from the awful incident of being on the Titanic, both world wars, the great depression in America, the China Dynasties, the long stretch of time when he didn’t see another person, simply trying to survive on his own. How he thought so many of these events were enough to end his lonely rein yet nothing came of it. Arthur never came. The story ended as light filtered through the window.
“How is it morning? We’ve only been talking for a few hours.” Remus asked
“We’ve been talking for a lot more than a few hours.” Minerva said, whipping her face and accidentally smearing her mascara all over.
The boys laughed but Merlin fixed it with a flash of gold in his eyes. “I told you it was a long story. Thank you for listening though. I think you’re the first people to know it all. It feels rather nice to not have to lie anymore.”
“Anytime Merlin.” Remus said with a yawn. “Don’t suppose I can borrow your bed for a nap?”
“Me too.” Added Minerva. Which was fair enough, they’re chambers were on the opposite side of the school.
Merlin placed his hands on the top of each of their heads.
“What are you doing?”
Merlin shushed him as his eyes lit up again. They were no longer tired and honestly felt better than they had in years. “There. I’ve gotten a lot better at healing magic over the centuries. You’ll be right in no time again.”
“That’s a good trick Merlin.” Remus made his way to his feet then pulled the other two up after. Merlin wobbled dangerously as he made it up, Minerva steadied him quickly.
“I’m afraid I still can’t heal myself very well.” He muttered as he made his way to the stand by the door and poured himself a cup of black coffee. “This’ll work instead.”
“That’s not healthy.” Minerva scolded taking the cup from him. He glared and snapped his fingers as his eyes glowed gold. The cup reappeared in his hand in an instant.
“Never claimed to be.” He took a long sip while not breaking eye contact. “I thought we covered that I can’t die so it doesn’t matter what I do.”
“You can’t die. That doesn’t mean you can’t be healthy.”
“Minerva.” Remus interrupted. “Leave him be. We all have our things. I have a chocolate bar at least every other day, he drinks an unholy quantity of coffee. You like ginger ice cream. We all have our faults.”
They wandered down the corridor headed towards the kitchen for their morning ritual with Zookey, Hokey, and Mipsy. Their arguing echoing down the hall, once again on the topic of ice cream.