Latest Update:September 27, 2018
Summary: 'Tis I, the great Merlin. Wizard Extraordinaire. Maker of Kings. Most Handsome Man Alive. And I have returned, and only because some snot-nosed brat survived the Killing Curse and I, for the life of me, just can't figure out how.
Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12935561/1/Merlin-s-Beard-IT-S-Merlin
Word Count:24k
Chapters:5
Prologue/Chapter 1:
Satisfied with my appearance in the mirror, I did a twirl. "Nicky," I laughed, "don't I look fabulous?" The hems of my brand new Hogwarts robes spun upwards into the air, exposing my legs from my bare feet to my thighs. "I bet everyone will be looking at me."
"They certainly will," agreed Nicholas, my long-time friend, "but only because of your hair."
I frowned and stopped spinning to face the mirror again. I tugged at the unruly white mess that was my hair. "Is it really that weird?" I asked. "There are wizards with green, even purple hair. And lots of Muggles have even funkier hairdos!"
"Yes, it is," Nicholas said disinterestedly. "The only person in Hogwarts with hair like yours is Dumbledore. You'll fit right in," he said the last line sarcastically.
"Well," I said, turning around. That prat Nicholas was still sitting in his armchair, his eyes having never left his book the whole conversation. Even when I was changing. He really did only have eyes for Perenelle. "Maybe if somebody didn't mess up the anti-aging potion, we wouldn't be in this mess."
Nicholas put down his book, leveling a stare at me. Looks like the little jab was enough to rile him up.
"You were born with white hair. How is a potion that reverses aging suppose to give you a hair colour you've never had?"
"I know that," I snapped. "You know that." Then very discretely, I whispered, "but the potion didn't know that. It was supposed to give me black hair like everybody else!"
Nicholas looked like he wanted to argue back. But then he sighed and went back to his book. He knew a lost battle when he saw one. The poor child could never fight against my impeccable logic.
"You know, Nicholas," I said, "you're being awfully calm about this."
"About what?" he asked.
"This whole me-returning-to-Hogwarts-and-pretending-to-be-a-student thing."
"Oh, that," he said, nodding his head. "That's because I'd rather not know."
"What? Why not?"
"Legal immunity," he explained, "I can't get pinned as an accomplice to a crime I'm not even aware of."
I blinked. "That's very sly of you." Admitting it was more painful that I thought. "But this really isn't one of my shenanigans." Really, as someone who's known me for centuries, I really thought Nicholas would at least give me the benefit of the doubt. Then again, as someone who's known me for centuries, who could blame him?
"It's not?" He looked up again, sounding geuinely surprised.
"Of course it isn't!" I proclaimed, "I'm offended you would think I would ever return to school of all places on nothing more than a childish whim!"
Nicholas stared at me. Like, really stared at me. Like, pierced-into-my-soul-with-his-rainbow-coloured-irises stared at me. "Look me in the eyes," he said solemnly, "and tell me that you aren't going back to Hogwarts just so you can cause trouble for the many prepubescent girls there."
Now that was an idea.
"Of course I'm not," I denied vehemently. "I'm going there to satisfy an intellectual curiosity!" Honestly, it was like our past few years together had done nothing but inculcate the worst possible impression of me in Nicholas' mind. Though that was probably on me.
His stare didn't drop. Neither did mine. And after a furious staring battle, he finally relented. "Fine," he said. "Humour me and tell me about this 'intellectual curiosity' of yours."
I gave him a big smile. I conjured up a newspaper article I'd seen earlier this week and put it in front of his face. The one that had led to my sudden enrolment in Hogwarts. On the front page was a newborn, as ugly as all the others, except this one had a funny-looking lightning-shaped scar on his head.
Boy-Who-Lived Due to Start School in Hogwarts Next Month, the headline read.
"A child," Nicholas collapsed his face into his palms. "You're even worse than I thought," he groaned.
"Get your head out of the gutter, Nicky-boy," I scolded him. Couldn't he tell that I was actually serious? "Don't you know anything about this kid?"
He squinted at the article. "Harry...Potter," he read. Then he shook his head. "Nope, can't say it rings a bell."
"Geez Nicky, where have you been the past ten years?" I shook my head. Even if we were immortal, keeping track of the Wizarding world and the world in general was important. How else were we going to find new members?
"In Congo," he said, deadpan. "Trying to stop an Inferi army raised by a psychotic Witch Doctor from taking over Africa."
"Oh," I said, vaguely remembering that something like that had happened a few years back. "Why wasn't I invited? It sounds like fun!"
"Fun?" He repeated, "I nearly died. Thirty thousand people did die! And you were invited! But you missed your flight and didn't bother booking another!"
"That doesn't sound like me," I said defensively. Okay, it did. But it was probably because I found something better to do after that.
"You went on a holiday to learn snowboarding," Nicholas hissed. "I still have the postcards!"
"Oh, Switzerland," I said with nostalgia. "Now I remember. But it's okay, you stopped them all by yourself in the end right? Good job!"
"Barely," he said. "But we are digressing. What's so special about this Harry Potter boy?"
I blinked. "Who's Harry Potter?" I asked.
"The kid!" He yelled, jabbing his finger into the newspaper. It was fun seeing him so exasperated.
"Oh," I said, "you mean the Boy-Who-Lived. Why don't you read the article? I think they mentioned his story somewhere there."
Sighing, Nicholas grudgingly placed the newspaper over his silly little book. While he read, I talked. So, you know, things wouldn't get boring between the two of us.
"Impressive right?" I asked. "Not even a few weeks old and he'd already gotten himself a title. Boy-Who-Lived. Sounds formidable, doesn't it."
"Uhn," grunted Nicholas.
"Why, I didn't get my first title until I was six! I still remember it. Child of the Fae."
"Mhm," Nicholas grunted again.
"Then after that was Magus of the Flowers. That one I really like."
"Uh huh"
"Then came Maker of Kings. Ah Arthur, lovely chap."
"Yep"
"Vaniquisher of Evil. Silly Morgan, thinking she could defeat me."
"Uhn"
"Wizard Extraordinaire"
"Hn"
"Most handsome man alive"
Immediately, Nicholas looked up. "You made that last one up."
"Dang." Nicholas was still as sharp as ever. "I thought for sure you weren't listening."
"As if I'd ever let you have the chance to inflate your ego any larger than it already is. I'm done, by the way. You're right, this is interesting." He put the newspaper back on the table.
"I'm always right," I pouted. "Yet you always seem surprised."
He ignored me. "This is unprecedented. The Killing Curse has never left behind a survivor before. Blocked, yes. Deflected... you probably know how," I did, actually. "But it struck the boy - the scar is proof of that - but did not kill him. Instead it rebounded back onto the caster himself. I've never even heard of such a thing."
"So?" I asked, "it's a good idea to investigate, right?"
"Yes," Nicholas admitted, albeit quite unwillingly. "Do you have any theories?"
"Several," I replied, "almost all of which involve the parents."
"They're dead," Nicholas informed me helpfully.
"I know," I rolled my eyes at him. "I read the article too, you know? There's a reason why I'm getting close to the boy, and not his parents."
"And yet, you can't even remember the boy's name." Nicholas shook his head.
"Howard Peter?" I guessed. Nicholas groaned again. What? His name was something I would learn with time at my own pace. It was none of his business, anyway.
"And?" he asked again. "What will you do if you find out? Remember, the existence of the Council and its members must be kept a secret above all else."
Ah, the Council of Casters, the little secret club Nicholas and I were part of. The very people who pulled enough strings to get me re-enroled somehow. I wouldn't ever dare to break our own internal Statute of Secrecy. They'd kill me. And now that Nicholas was my official accomplice, they'd kill him too. It didn't matter that we were technically immortal. They'd find a way. The Council always did.
"Well," I said, ridding my mind of the dark thoughts. "If it was an enchantment or charm, or something I could attach or cast onto an object, I'd do just that. I'd invent a portable Aveda Kedavra shield, Nicholas! Think of all the money I'd make!"
His only response was a terrifying glare.
I gulped, "and all the lives that would be saved, of course." I coughed into my hand, "precious human lives and what not."
"And if the effects aren't replicable?" He asked.
"Easy," I shrugged, I had everything all planned out. "He'll be our next member!"
"I thought you said they wanted Dumbledore to be our next member."
"They do. You gave him a Philosopher's Stone already, right?"
Nicholas nodded.
"Has he even tried making himself immortal with it yet?"
"No."
"Well, if he's not immortal, we can't invite him, can we?"
"I guess not," Nicholas said morosely. Nicholas knew Dumbledore personally, and had been aggressively pushing for his inclusion into the Council ever since the man defeated a Dark Lord.
"Don't worry," I said. "He's still got what... twenty years left? Maybe he'll change his mind as he nears his end. That's when most of us did."
"Hopefully," he sighed.
"You know, Nicky," I smiled mischievously at him. "You still haven't answered my question."
"What question?"
I did another twirl. "Don't I look fabulous?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. But I could still see the tiny smile beneath his hand.
"Merlin," he growled out. "If you keep acting like an eight-year old girl instead of the eight-hundred-year-old man you are, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"Fine," I said, not at all happy. "Be that way, Flamel."
Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12935561/1/Merlin-s-Beard-IT-S-Merlin