A Couple of Merlin Short Stories

Merlin and Harry Potter 2: How Are You?

     "This isn't our vault." The goblin just nodded to her and gestured for Emrys to join him. Confused the boy did as he was asked and approached the tall looming frame of a door in front of him. 

     "It reacts to the touch of Magic." The goblin whispered to Emrys. Not knowing what this statement meant he instead placed his hand on the handle less door, and felt rather stupid. How was this door going to open without handles? He got his answer as he was about to remove his hand when he heard an ominous click from inside. It had unlocked. Emrys jerked back as the door, rather than open, slid up into oblivion. What was revealed made his eyes bug out, and he heard a gasp from behind him. In the small room piles of gold, silver, and bronze lay about among other things. What seemed to be artifacts lined the walls, ranging from staffs to crystals. What drew Emrys' attention however was a beautiful red cloak that hung on the far wall. A golden dragon emblem blazed upon it, while a kings crown hung above it. An empty space was next to it in a shape that seemed suspiciously big enough to hold a sword. In front of the cloak was a piece of faded red cloth folded in beautiful style that held upon it a small carved wooden dragon.

Emrys didn't know what to make of the room or its occupants before him, but he felt drawn to it inexplicably. Ignoring the riches in front of him, he quickly made his way to the red cloth and wooden dragon. He clutched the dragon and placed it in his pocket subconsciously, before gently touching the small red cloth. He held it reverently and clutched it to his chest. The whole scene before him screamed Arthur, though he could not tell why, and for it he was bitter. He glanced at the cape once more before grabbing a handful of coins to put into his pockets and exited without another the word. The heavy door slid back down and locked with an echoing bang.

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Despite what Emrys knew some believed he was not as unobservant nor idiotic enough to miss the not so sly glances the Weasley's had been giving him since Gringotts. He elected to ignore them and not ruin a beautiful day, instead he tied the red cloth, which he'd come to find out was a handkerchief, onto his neck without a second thought to the action and focused on its presence about his neck. For some reason it felt . . . right. 

He fingered the dragon figure nervously in his pocket as he and the Weasley's headed to get his last instrument needed for Hogwarts, his wand. They entered a small shop called Ollivander's, and Emrys felt the tensity in his body ease, sensing a calming magic of sorts. An older man with pale blue eyes shuffled to the front of the store. When Emrys looked at him he felt even calmer, some how.

     "Ah, hello mister Emrys. Come for a wand I s'ppose?" Emrys wondered how this man knew his name. It was becoming a regular occurrence.  Instead of asking questions he knew would not be answered he instead nodded. Mr. Ollivander smiled and disappeared for a moment, before returning with a heavily dusted and narrow box. He opened it and drew out what, in any description, was indeed a stick. However Emrys felt the power radiating from it and watched it, not taking his eyes from the item.

     "I believe this is the one you want. Eleven inches, whippy, good for charm work, birch, with dragon heartstring core." The wand was placed in Emrys' hands and he felt a warm glow spread through his body. The wand let out a small spurt of  fire, before settling into its masters new hands.

          [This wand was made especially for you, Emrys. It holds great power, so I will again grieve you with my warning from all those years ago, use it wisely.]

Emrys glanced up in shock having heard Mr. Ollivanders voice though the man had seemed not to have moved. The man smiled knowingly, and took a few galleons before shuffling back somewhere deeper into his shop. Despite the strangeness of the day, Emrys did feel happy as they returned to Grimmauld place. He knew he was ready for fifth year at Hogwarts, though it would be his first time attending. He lay awake that night still fingering the wooden dragon, and took peace in knowing it was there. He soon fell into a restless sleep, with dreams that plagued him of swords, and monsters, and the red of blood on the red of a certain dragon bearing cloak.