1. Hagrids Hut (1/2)

like everything in life, things come to pass and go, leaving but a fragment of memories that may be forgotten in the course of a few years or even centuries. the death of a person can be forgotten just as easily as a chicken being slaughtered for dinner. but not his. no, his death was remembered throughout time — but not by many, and not accurately. people knew him for what he had done, for what he had achieved in his times of living. but not for who he really was. roughly around a thousand years later, his tale was twisted and modified by those that knew of his story, the real details of his life getting more and more confusing, as well as invalid. soon enough, the real tale was lost in a spiral of alternatives and instead renewed by false representations of who he was. not everyone forgot about his history though, of course not. unfortunately, that everyone was only one person.

merlin am

osius, better known as emrys — the most powerful warlock in the world — in his earlier days of adulthood. some had named him the 'prince of enchanters', a small little nickname his old colleagues called him as well as his former students that were now long dead. he was the only one that knew of his origins, his true ones. although in truth, he would have conceded that he preferred to name the said person; 'clot pole' or 'dollop head'. sometimes even 'cabbage head'. a definition for the supposedly affronting nicknames?

king arthur.

the flames that emitted from the fireplace curled and swayed, flicking one way to the other, crackling as they burnt the dry wood beneath them. their light cast long overtowering shadows over the rug and floorboards, dancing along the ground with different angles of shadows moving each time the fire parted. hams and pheasants hung from the ceiling like party streamers, most of their feathers being scattered along the floors like a cat's fur would stick to a woollen sweater. just above the fireplace was a copper kettle that was used to boil water, or to cook stew, an odd but intriguing smell wafting through the air just by lifting the lid. on top of the mantle were a few lingering candles that lit most of the area up — their flame flickering lowly as their wax slowly but surely began to diminish into liquid.

with one flick of his hand, every small vestige of wax they had left on them soon doubled instantly as they rose in height, their fire glinting stronger than they were before. the light gleamed across his pallid skin, outlining his delicate yet hardened features perfectly, his sharp high cheekbones shadowing over his cheeks. merlin, or emrys — he didn't mind what he was called at this point — never really thought deeply about his magic, his spells. at first, he thought that wizards and witches alike would be able to learn just as he did, the archaic magic of the old religion. but he was wrong, so wrong. he knew that now, but he just didn't realise the exact scale of his incorrectness.

wands would shudder at the mere sight of him, eventually — but accidentally —

eaking their own cores if his fingers were to

ush against them. most of the

ooms he came across would palpitate in fear like young children witnessing a murder due to his raw magic, most of the time they survived though. sometimes he wondered if they actually had feelings like people would, and at some point, he came to believe it. it was weird, to know that a once inanimate object that he used to sweep the halls and even use as a poor weapon in his time had become similar to that of a living and

eathing person. obviously, not the

eathing part, as they were still

ooms and not actual creatures. at least he thought so.

a

uptly and much to his surprise, the door pelted open and slammed against the fragile walls of the hut, a faint and distinctive grunt of resentment echoing in the room. he glanced over his shoulder to see none other than the familiar half-giant figure standing in the middle of the doorframe, an oversized crossbow draped across his shoulder. with a radiant lantern in his other hand, he raises it in the air to clear the shadows that shrouded the room. seeing as the only source of light was coming from the candles themselves, merlin acted swiftly in swinging his arm around in a circular motion as they extended up, each candle growing with a more effective fire to lighten the room. as he expected, it was rubeus hagrid. who else was over a whopping eleven inches tall?

with a smile slapped across the giant's face and a look of recognition, merlin

aced himself for a tightly squeezed em

ace that would most likely leave his bones aching for another week or so. and he was right to do so. a louder clatter on the ground indicated that hagrid's large crossbow had hit the ground with another clamorous bang on the table that could only be his lantern being settled on top of it. as he expected for what was to happen next, he was lifted into the air in a bear-like hug, struggling to keep the correct amount of oxygen in his lungs. his hands were as big as dustbin lids, so every time he patted them against his back, another attempt of trying to receive air was straight away knocked out of him, much to his chagrin.

in due course, he was released from the compacted affection and placed onto the ground. he felt like a mere child or toddler compared to the enormous oaf in front of him. as soon as his feet met the ground he could feel himself finally living and

eathing again. he shot a rueful smile towards the giant before pressing a hand up against his chest and sighing. hagrid gave an earnest apology for his irrational behaviour and inclined his head — a sort of manner that wasn't exactly common with him. merlin batted his hand at him like it was nothing, alluding to the fact that he was fine. he knew that he should've been prepared for such a strong bear-like hug from someone as reckless and strong like hagrid — especially hagrid. the giant was a soft person with a heart more extensive than his own body size alone — which often caused the warlock to worry about him for his child-like carelessness. not to mention that he was a gryffindor. not that there was anything wrong with that.

"nice to see you too, hagrid." he flashed a witty grin that he had practically mastered over the course of countless centuries. a small perk, as he would call it, for being the servant of a pratty king for most of his life. still was, still am, he thought. "i see to it that headmaster dumbledore is treating you kindly?"

a gruff chuckle resonates from his stomach before rising to the surface, "'course he is," he said, ambling over to one of the leather chairs that sat across from the fireplace, sinking deep into the material, "though i'd be lyin' if i said 'hat he wasn't flounderin' over a few pressin' issues."

merlin raises an eye

ow in anticipation, swinging himself over to the stool he had been sitting on previously and locking his hands together in a firm grasp as he perched over the edge of his seat like a hawk. he hadn't heard much of the most recent occurrences in the school, nor of what was transpiring in the wizarding world. as hard as that was to believe, it was true. he didn't precisely take any liking to involve or making himself aware of what was happening in modern society. it just felt so out of place for him. he was more reclusive now, no longer the jaunty jester that his younger days had remembered him by. besides, all in all, he was supposed to be dead. not alive as he heard people say.

"i see," he cleared his throat with a subtle cough, "and what kind of issues is he dealing with exactly? just... curious."

hagrid lifts his head halfway up, those large black beady eyes of his seeming to gleam

ightly as the flickering flames of the candles reflected vaguely in his eyes like mirrors. his lips curled into a thin line, opening for two seconds before clamping down as if he was debating with his options in his mind. merlin, the prince of enchanters, namely the most powerful warlock of all time. yeah, don't think he could lie his way out of this one even if he wanted to. after all, he was one of the finest and cunning liars there were — or, at least, the finest half-truth teller. he would have had experience with people lying to him — the lad had lived for centuries after all.

darting his eyes from one spot of the hut to the other, the look in his eyes turning furtive before he caught up with the twinkling blue ones across from him. "i shouldn't be sayin' 'his to ya," he scrunched his nose up with a grimace, "but i don' suppose i have much of a choice now, do i?" he shot a faint smile, his head tilting to the side comically.

"i will not force you to, hagrid. i only wish to know what i've been missing out on." his words held wisdom behind his ludicrous facade of a smile, hagrid knew all too well to be tricked. either way, even if the tyke was true to his words, it was only about time that the warlock was made aware of the happenings in his own school. especially seeing as the news would more likely than not disseminate across the entire magical community soon. sometimes he questions his loyalty to dumbledore and his abilities to keeping classified secrets that could potentially spread panic — because more often than not, those secrets tend to slip out of his mouth at a moment's notice. but to his dismay, and poorly timed as well, a pervasive headache had decided to pay him a visit. he pinched the

idge of his nose before furrowing his

ows and sighing loudly.