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HP:Fairywm

not my creation i just copied and pasted here ALL CREDIT BELONGS TO RESPECTIVE PERSON AUTHOR:Fairywm VOLUME 1 : ONE-SHOTS VOLUME 2 ONWARDS each volume is a different story

arhan_malik · Livros e literatura
Classificações insuficientes
213 Chs

Chapter 16: Merlin's Debut

It was later that night that Sally had an idea, and she wanted to let Isobel know. So, she went to the classroom where Isobel was going over her lectures for the next day. "Hi, Isobel," the embodiment of Death said, waving her perky little wave.

"Sally," was all the teacher said as she flipped through her notes. The quizzes had gone well, and she was trying to think of more ways to teach the children. There was a plethora of portraits that could teach what they knew from their time, but only a few were historically worthy. Sure, they could teach the day and life of those gone by but was that what the children needed. There was always the textbook, and she could find portraits from the time period they were studying and get a different perspective that way.

That was probably for the best, since they still needed to pass their OWLs. She was going to contact the Department of Education and see about updating those to include more recent history. The one that was in effect now was mostly about goblin wars, since that was all Binns had taught.

"You look busy," the little girl stated as she floated up to the desk.

"I never knew that teaching would be so task heavy," Isobel said, finally putting her notes down and looking at Sally. "What did you need?" she asked.

"I was wondering if you'd like a special guest for the first years," Sally said, jumping on the top of the desk, making sure not to disturb it too much. "Well, all the years, but I want him to start with the first year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws."

"Oh, who?" was the question from the busy professor as she lifted a ghostly eyebrow. She was quite used to Sally pulling things like this. She just hoped this speaker would be child-friendly.

"Merlin," Sally said with a shit eating grin.

"Seriously?" Isobel asked, paying closer attention. It was one person that she never figured would come. The man's legends had been blown so out of proportion that no one knew what the true story was. It was a historians' dream to talk to the man. She did wonder if he would be truthful if he were to come. There was much she was sure that Merlin didn't want anyone to know.

"Would you like that?" the embodiment of death asked.

"Who wouldn't?" Isobel exclaimed. "If you could talk to him before hand, make sure he keeps it child-friendly, I'd be all for that," the excited professor stated, almost clapping with glee.

"Yeah, I can do that. I think they need something nice to make up for all the stuff I've put them through," the little girl said, going over what she knew about the legend. She knew he was a great man, and that he was magically strong, but she didn't know if he was good with kids. She couldn't compel him to tell the truth, but he might give them a good story.

"With all the stunts you've pulled, I think that's for the best," Isobel agreed, and they set it up. Merlin would come and talk to Isobel after the kids were in bed. They would then go over what could be discussed. "Do you think he'll set some records straight for me?" the history teacher gushed like a fangirl.

"I'll see what I can do," Sally said, laughing at her friend's reaction.

"Oh, that'd be great," Isobel said, conjuring more notes to ask the famous man.

"I'll just leave you to your tasks," the embodiment of Death said, gliding away, leaving Isobel to ponder what to ask Merlin.

Hphphp

Dumbledore was in a quandary. An innocent man was in prison, and he needed to get him out. It was his duty, after all. He held the most power in the British Wizarding World, and parts of the Wizarding World as a whole. There was no one his equal.

And he had no doubt that he would free the man, if only to keep from being haunted by the Potters for the rest of his life. The only way to do that was to get the wills read. However, when he did, Sirius Black would be the guardian of Harry. Hence his quandary.

He wasn't sure he liked the changes it would make. Sirius was not as malleable as the Potters had been before death. He had always stood up and questioned Albus about things the headmaster didn't want to answer. Like why they couldn't kill the enemy, or why so-and-so was sent when such-and-such would have been better.

Worse, the Potters might go and get the wills read themselves. Dumbledore didn't want that. He preferred to keep this close to his chest, but that was impossible. An entire class knew that Sirius was innocent, and he wasn't foolish enough to think that he could quash that news. He would have to act soon, if only to be seen as doing something.

So, with a bit of trepidation, he went to the Floo. He Flooed over to the Ministry and went to the Inheritance Office. It was a typical office with a counter, some cubbies, some chairs, and doors leading to the archives. The woman manning it was a muggleborn, who never went further than where she was now. She seemed to be happy enough with her circumstances.

"Ah, Matilda, I was wondering if I could get the Potters' wills," Dumbledore stated when he entered the office.

"Of course, Headmaster," the dumpy grey-haired woman said as she turned to go to the stacks. It took a few minutes to find them, and when she did, she brought them to the old man. "Here you go, sir," she said, laying them on the counter.

"Ah, yes, this is exactly what I needed," Albus said, seeing his seal on the documents. He then waved his wand and unsealed them. He had never read them before, he only sealed them as fast as he could so that he could place Harry where he wanted him. Now, he read them and did see that they did name Peter Pettigrew as the Secret Keeper, and, just as he feared, Sirius Black as godfather.

"Headmaster, are you alright?" Matilda asked seeing him frown.

"Yes, my dear. Now, I would like these probated," he said, handing them over. "Please, make sure that Amelia sees these parts," he added, pointing to the relevant sections.

He would do it himself, but he wanted to tarry this as long as he could. It would take ages for the wills to be probated, and Amelia might not act as quickly as she would if he were to bring this to her attention. Not that she was incompetent, more that she would have to investigate more.

"I will see that it is done, sir," Matilda said, copied them, wrote a quick note, rolled up the documents and put them in the inbox. They disappeared and went to the solicitor's office. They would then see that the wills were read, and all needed parties would be informed. She sent a copy with a note to the Head of the DMLE.

"Thank you, my dear," Albus said, leaving the office, knowing that this was going to cause him headaches in the future. He left with a sense that he did all he needed to do. It was up to the DMLE to finish the task.

Hphphp

The next History class promised to be a good one. Still, the first year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws entered the classroom cautiously. They had had some good lessons, but with all the ghosts that were running around, they weren't sure what to expect.

"Settle down, class," Isobel said as they all sat down. "Today we are in for a special treat. Today our guest speaker is none other than Merlin," she finished, just as excited as the children.

Everyone gasped and clapped along with the teacher. There were mumblings and comments, but they were done quietly, so Isobel let them go.

An ancient man's ghost appeared in front of the class. He was dressed in classical Merlin robes, which were colorful and flowy. They weren't as colorful or as tacky as Dumbledore's, but many could see the resemblance. His beard hung down the front of his body, again like Dumbledore's. He had blue eyes, white hair, which was as long as his beard, and a sunny disposition. Unlike the headmaster, he appeared more of an eccentric uncle, not a grandfather. They could tell by the mischievous smile that played along his face.

"Hello, young people," the old man said, holding up his hand in greeting. "I am Merlin Ambrosius, or Myrddin Emrys as I have also been known as. There are many tales of my life, and I'd like to answer a few of your questions in hopes of telling you my version." He lifted his staff and waved it around, making some small fireworks go off, forming a dragon that took up the whole front of the room.

"Wow," was the response of many of the students. Again, they clapped, some whistling at the sight. Dumbledore never did anything like that.

"I came here today because of a special request of Professor Watts' friend Sally. She wanted to make up for all the bad things that have happened since the beginning of the year. Who here wants to know more about me?" he questioned, conjuring up an intangible chair and sitting down. His beard was resting down his entire body with hands folded across it.

Harry had to wonder if Dumbledore was trying to imitate Merlin. Was he doing it to be seen as powerful as the legend? Or was it just a coincidence? Harry didn't know, but it gave him the feeling of being manipulated.

Hermione raised her hand along with half the class. The professor called on her first, hoping to keep the subject to academics, which she knew would be futile, but she had to try.

"How is it that you were in Hogwarts, when history has you living over three to five hundred years before the founding?" the bushy-haired girl asked. It was something that always bothered her.

Isobel perked up at that question, for she wanted to know the answer as well. It was something debated on by many.

"Ah, yes, well all I can tell you is, magic," he said with a small chuckle. He wasn't going to tell them that he had lived that long. It wasn't in the legends, and it was better that way. The whole 'Once and Future King' prophecy that left him alive, until he wasn't, was not something he wanted to get into.

"Oh, bother," Hermione grumbled, knowing that once an adult answered like that, there would not be anything else forthcoming. "I mean, thank you, sir," she added quickly.

"Of course, my dear," the kindly old man said, not sounding the least bit condescending.

Watts picked Lavender next, knowing this was going to be personal. It seemed Merlin was going to be vague with his history, which he had told her the night before. She just didn't think he was going to be that elusive.

"Did you ever marry? And if you did, do you have heirs?" the blonde girl asked, in her bubbly voice that was eager for gossip.

"No, I never did marry. The one woman I loved more than anything, Viviane, turned me into a tree," the old man said, sighing and putting his hands on top of the staff he carried. He leaned a bit of his weight on that staff.

"And the heirs?" she persisted, wanting to know.

"As far as I know, I had no children, therefore no heirs. So, if someone tells you differently, you can tell them I said so." He winked at the children, who giggled.

"A tree?" Harry asked, after raising his hand, bringing up the part of his answer he didn't recognize, having never heard that particular fate. According to most legends he died shortly after Arthur. Well, non-magical legends.

"Yes, it was not one of my fonder memories," Merlin said, a wetness in his eyes. It was how he finally died, after years of being stuck as a tree, it was cut down, releasing his soul to the afterlife.

"Did you escape?" Ron asked without raising his hand. Harry had to wonder just how bullheaded his friend was.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley," Isobel said, folding her arms, wondering the same as Harry.

"Sorry, Professor," the redhead grumbled. He was getting tired of always getting points taken off, and he wished the teachers would quit picking on him.

"I'll answer, no, I never did escape," Merlin sighed, looking at all the eager faces. "It is how I died."

"Aww," was the reply to that from most of the females in the room.

"How about I tell you a bit about my life?" Merlin said, settling in his chair, like an uncle about to tell a story. Probably one that your parents preferred you wouldn't hear.

"Yay," came the chorus of children's voices, who all got a glare from the teacher.

She didn't take points for that because there were just too many. "Class," was all she said, making them go sheepish.

"It all began in the dark ages, in my case around the early 700's. I was born to a human woman and an incubus. At least that is what I was told, my mother is unsure of what my father was. She just knew he wasn't quite human. I never met him," he said in a tone that let them know he was okay with that fact. "I won't go into the dark details of how that happened, but it is said to be one of the reasons I am much more powerful than most wizards. I lived in what is now called Wales. I travelled much when I was a young lad, learning magic and healing where I could, until I came upon the city of Camelot. This city was ruled by one, King Uther Pendragon.

"I was taken as an apprentice to the Healer there. We had to keep it quiet because Uther was very much against magicals. It was well known that he would kill me if he even heard rumor that I was a practitioner.

"I was smart enough not to advertise myself as one," Merlin continued. "There was a prophecy, you see. One that said that the son of Pendragon, Arthur, would rule all of what is now known as Great Britain. I sought to bring the prophecy around, but alas it didn't need my help. Prophecies are funny that way. The first half did come to pass, but the latter did not," he said in a wise voice, stroking his beard in an absentminded way.

"Do all prophecies come to pass like that?" Hermione asked, after raising her hand.

"No, not really, but they can. What I mean is, that most prophecies come to pass, at least in part, but they are largely interpreted incorrectly. Some might come true long past when anyone knew about them. The latter part of the one I know, might still come true years down the road," he explained as best he could.

"Oh," was the confused response from the young girl.

"Let us say that there is a prophecy that there will be a bushy-haired young lady that will take over the realm. Now we know that we are in the realm of Britain, and you have bushy hair. The prophecy was heard here by someone who knows you, so one might expect that it was about you and Britain. But really, is this prophecy about you? Or is it about a different realm or young lady? There is no mention of a name, place, or time," he proposed, making the children think about that.

"I guess, I wouldn't know until it came to pass," ventured Hermione, thinking hard on that.

"Now the difference between that kind of prophecy and the one I heard, was that it named Pendragon and Britain. Therefore, we knew who, what, and where; just not when. Do you see the difference?" he asked the class.

"Yes, sir," many answered, scribbling notes down.

The class continued with more legend and myths discussed. Merlin told of some of the battles that he and Arthur had. And a few romantic stories for the girls. Such as Arthur and Guinevere. Just not his. It was a happy class that left when the bell rang.

"Thanks for coming," Isobel said as Sally floated beside her.

"How much of that was fact?" Sally asked with a smirk.

"My legend is so muddled, that if I told them I was a simple servant boy to Arthur, they would not have believed me," the old man said with no shame. "To these kids, and their elders, I am the most magical being to walk the face of the earth. Yes, I was a confidant of the king, but I didn't live forever, nor did I create the magical world. That was someone else, who used my legend to do so. What I told them was true, just not completely."

"Hey, I get it. I have quite a few myths banned about, about me too," Sally said, holding up her hands in supplication. "Do you want to do me another favor?" she asked, peering at the ghost with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Oh, something mischievous?" Merlin asked, always up for mischief.

"There is a man here that thinks he's the next coming of you. I'd like you to dissuade him of that notion," Sally said, thinking it might take Dumbledore down a peg or two.

"I would love to, then," the legend stated, his eyes twinkling as well. He loved taking men to task that were too big for their britches.