*
Merlin [known as Merlynn, Merlini or Merddyn] was a legendary Warlock who lived during the Middle Ages. Little is known of his past, but he was a member of King Arthur's court and arguably the most famous wizard of all time.
While muggles and wizards alike have been told the tales of Merlin, Arthur and his knights, it is hard to discern if everything said is true. A portrait of Merlin himself is hung in the halls of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry however information from the warlock is rare and often spoken in riddles. [See pages 133-135 for Miranda Folkin's experience with tales from the portrait]
Merlin was a member of King Arthur's court and ultimate advisor according to source [2] on pages 566-567, Merlin was said to be the downfall of Arthur's half sister Morgan Le Fay who was assisted by Mordred [or Mordredus or Modred]. Mordred has been depicted in many ways from many books, while some sources are from muggle literature and are often unreliable, he is said to have been Arthur's villainous bastard son, born of an incestuous relationship with his half-sister or aunt. Many sources have been taken into account but the evidence is blurry. So we therin write that Mordred is simply the bastard son of Arthur who he killed and was slain by.
"Reading at this time of the morning?" A groggy voice said from the bed opposite.
Lilith looked up from her, rather uncomfortable, position on the four poster bed. She had had the best night sleep since her last night at Hogwarts.
"I, unlike you Pansy Dear, have a productive brain that must reach certain requirements of knowledge," Lilith said, closing the leather tome.
"At half five?"
"You wouldn't know, of course."
She only just ducked Pansy's pillow.
*
The journey through the castle to North Tower was a long one. Two years at Hogwarts hadn't taught them everything about the castle, and they had never been inside North Tower before.
"Why i persuaded Mum to let me take this darned class, I'll never know," said Pansy as she and Lilith climbed the seventh long staircase and emerged on an unfamiliar landing, where there was nothing but a large painting of a bare stretch of grass hanging on the stone wall.
"I think it's this way," Lilith said, peering down the empty passage to the right.
"No," said Pansy. "That's south. Look, you can see a bit of the lake outside the window."
Lilith's attention was drawn to the painting. A fat, grey pony had just ambled onto the grass and was grazing nonchalantly. A moment later, a short, squat knight in a suit of armour had clanked into the picture after his pony. By the look of the grass stains on his metal knees, he had just fallen off.
"Aha!" Yelled he, seeing the two Slytherins, "What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!"
He pulled his long sword from his scabbard, swinging it aimlessly as he jumped up and down. The sword, it seemed, was to long and heavy, making the knight unbalance and fall to his armoured knees.
"You good?" Pansy asked, rather amused at the painting as she edged forward slightly.
"Get back, you scurvy skamelar! Back I say!"
The knight seized his sword again and used it to push himself back up, but the blade sank deeply into the grass and, though he pulled with all his might, he couldn't get it out again. Finally, he had to flop back down onto the grass and lift his helmet to mop his sweating face.
Lilith, taking advantage of the knight's momentary exhaustion, said, "We're looking for the North Tower. You don't know the way, do you?"
"A quest!" The knights bitterness vanished, He clanked to his feet and shouted, "Come follow me, young Mordred and gentle lady, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!"
She paused, "Mordred?" She asked, "Mordred isn't my name."
"Ah not now but t'was once the name you went by, onward! Let us go afoot!"
He ran out of the painting, his armour clanging as he traveled through scene after scene.
The two hurried after him along the corridor, following the sound of his armor.
"Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!" yelled the knight, and they saw him reappear in front of an alarmed group of women in crinolines, whose picture hung on the wall of a narrow spiral staircase.
Puffing loudly, she and Pansy climbed the tightly spiraling steps, getting dizzier and dizzier, until at last they heard the murmur of voices above them and knew they had reached the classroom.
"Farewell!" cried the knight, popping his head into a painting of some sinister-looking monks. "Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"
Pansy turned to leave through the door, but Lilith told her to she would join in a minute.
"Wait, sir Cadogan!" She said as he poked his head around the very edge of the gathering of monks, his boot visible in another painting of a castle and mote.
"Yes, young friend, why do you call upon the noblest knight of Camelot's brethren?"
She lowered her voice, not sure if what she was about to say was to be a secret or not, "you called me Young Mordred," she stated accusingly.
"That I did," Sir Cadogan announced, snatching a goblet of wine from a table in the painting.
"But I'm not Mordred, he died years ago." She stepped closer, "what are you going on about?"
"Young witch! You do not know of the great prophecies foretold about Morigan and Mordredus?" He enquired as she shook her head confused.
"Bah! Mordredus had and forever shall have the power to join them or oppose them in their quest for rule."
"Who?" She asked urgently.
"They change just as you! Over time the name changes again and again. The Tales of which you know not talk of three, two against one, it says!" The knight said gleefully, hopping from portrait to portrait, "The same forever against each other but one given the choice to which side they shoulds't dwell, it changes just as the names! Just as the people! Just as the places!"
"You mean I was Mordred?" It was a statement more than a question. "I am Mordred." The information stumped her completely. She silently thanked Merlin that she and Pansy got lost on the way to Divination.
Merlin.
"Little is known of Merlin's past, but he was a member of King Arthur's court" She recalled in her head before saying, "Arthur."
She temporarily forgot about Sir Cadogan's presence and was startled when he announced joyfully, "So you art not the foolish maiden that I thought, for you know of King Arthur."
"While muggles and wizards alike have been told the tales of Merlin, Arthur and his knights, it is hard to discern if everything said is true. A portrait of Merlin himself is hung in the halls of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry..."
She interrupted The Knight's rambling which, from brief segments she heard, was about how he had earned a place in the Kings court by defeating the Wyvern of Wye (a sort of dragon with a forked tail).
"Merlin," she said, ignoring Sir Cadogan's sudden talk of the wizard, "where does his portrait hang?"
*
She had finished her classes some time ago, her last lesson being switched for study hall seeing as she had astronomy that midnight.
The halls were mainly empty of students, for many were in their common rooms or being the last few to finish their dinner (though only Crabbe, Goyle, two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw were still in the great hall). She ran all the way to the grand staircase, searching all of the walls until she saw him. It was rather an inappropriate place for the so-called greatest wizard to ever exist, he was hanging on the wall behind the stairs; where people either hid from bullies or sold various substances from the herbology greenhouses.
"Right," she had said as soon as she noticed that he was in the frame, "I don't know how I'm supposed to address you so, well, how-"
"Merlin would do just fine," he jutted in, "now, why do you wish to speak with me?"
She was taken aback, "So... no your highness', your greatness', oh supreme warlock's..?"
"None, young witch, now why have you sought after me?" He chucked. Chuckled. The great Merlin chuckled.
"Sir Cadogan," she started, "He called me Mordred- Mordredus or something along those lines."
Merlin nodded as he leant his weight on his sidhe staff, "Great Sir Cadogan, you know," he said as if they were having a conversation over tea and biscuits, "He helped secure my place in Arthur's Court. Did you know that?"
"I- no- I've read about Arthur," she began warily, unsure if she had to refer to the deceased king as 'his majesty', "and what you've done and— and what Mordred did."
Merlin walked forward, coming closer to the front of the painting, "You do," he said, "you know of his destiny? Your destiny?"
Her words stumbled out fast, eager to be fed the information, "Yes, Sir Cadogan mentioned that. And that the people change, well, the names change."
"That they do." He pondered over his next choice of words, "Tell me, Lilith, do you know of Morigan and Mordredus?"
She didn't question how he knew her name, "That he helped her in... in her quest for power. That's about it, I suppose."
"Mordred betrayed the very man he served, who he took an oath for," Merlin snapped, surprising Lilith with how severe he sounded for a man that was over a thousand years old. She ignored the fierce look of betrayal as he mentioned Mordred- her- and the far away look in his eyes as he talked of Arthur. She thought nothing of it.
"So we therin write that Mordred is simply the bastard son of Arthur who he killed and was slain by."
"Mordred killed Arthur," she said slowly, "which means he— Mordredus had and forever shall have the power to join them or oppose them in their quest for rule!" She quoted the words that came from Sir Cadogan's mouth that morning, earning a low and deep nod from the great warlock in the painting in front of her.
"Thank you, Merlin."
*