Chapter Text
"Uncle Emrys—Uncle Emrys—"
The birds on the tree flew into the blue sky because of the shouting. It was a fine morning, the summer sun dispelled every cloud, the boundless azure unfolded overhead, and the lush woods occluded the scorching heat.
A black-haired youth was sitting on his knees under the trees. When the shouting sounded, he was dipping his white hands into the cold stream. The sudden call made his hands tremble and some water droplets splashed.
'Shh, Silas.' The message sounded a little bit annoyed, but not too much displeasure or blame, 'Telepathy will do, remember?'
'Yes, I'm very sorry, Lord Emrys.' The boy's voice changed from cheerfulness to horror.
The young man sighed in his heart.
'Come.'
The boy approached cautiously, hesitantly and respectfully came to the youth, and was startled when the youth stretched out his hand to hold him.
"Sit down." The young man said softly, gently wrapped his arm around the other's shoulders, 'Listen, the voice of the forest. Calm down, look carefully, and listen.'
The boy opened his eyes wide and his lips pursed tightly. He was a little nervous at first, but gradually calmed down by the flowing brook, the soft chirping of birds, and the rustling of leaves.
After a few minutes, he replied hesitatly, 'It's beautiful...'
The youth smiled.
'Nature is the treasure that the sky and the earth have given us. Druids live by nature, cherishing, respecting, and appreciating the beauty of everything. Being energetic is a good thing, but it's not without reason that we're used to communicating with our minds—that kind of communication keeps us from disturbing other free-flying, running animals.'
'Understood, Uncle Emrys.'
The young man nodded approvingly and said softly, "So, Silas, what do you have for me?"
"Oh." The boy showed an "opps" face, "Dad must be impatient..."
'Silas!' Sure enough, the telepathic message was transmitted so strongly that even the young man could receive it—which made him wince.
"I guess you're right." The youth jumped up, stood up straight, and delivered a message when he saw the man approaching, 'Ethel, what's the matter?'
'Lord Emrys.' The anger on the man's face faded a little, and he bowed slightly, 'There are a few guests in the camp, they are here for you.'
'Visitor? That's rare.' The young man stretched out his hand to pulled Silas up, his expression still relaxed, 'Then I'll meet them... Did they say why they were looking for me?'
'It seems to be about dragons.'
'Dragons.' The young man raised an eyebrow and repeated, expression was indistinguishable. He began to stride toward the camp, followed by the man. Within a few minutes, a small camp appeared in front of them. The beige tents and the wooden pavilions were connected by colorful and unstructured ribbons in the middle, but not messy, as if there was an indescribable harmony in them.
'I'll go meet them myself... In the main tent?' The youth's question got a nod. He paused for a moment before taking another step—the expression changed from casual to a cold and dignified, but the telepathic message didn't have any chill, 'Also, Ethel,'
'Yes?'
'Don't scold Silas, it was me that keeping him.' The young man smiled. The boy on the side also heard the message, showing a little hope... maybe a little cunning.
'…Understood.' The man glared at the child and obeyed reluctantly.
When the two walked away, the young man stared at the curtain of the main tent, paused for a few seconds, then wiped his face and said to himself, "Time to get to work, Merlin."
◎◎◎
There were very few people who could visit the druid camp—fewer visitors who could get Ethel to agree to let them disturb Merlin. Ethel is like his ancestor Iseldir, steady, cautious, and unsmiling. But it's about dragons... He does remember that there was an agreement he made with the British Ministry of Magic that any special treatment of any dragons had to be approved by contemporary members of the Emrys family. Of course, any conversation with a family member was really just a meeting with Merlin.
However, Merlin didn't like the modern wizards. The betrayal in the past was still so vivid in his mind that he refused to intervene in any disputes between wizards. On the other hand, once he got close to London, the owls always threw the Hogwarts letters on his head like snowflakes... In the past, he assisted the founders in setting up the school and perfecting the system of enrolling students, and now it totally came back to bite him. Obviously, the detection magic that he woven in the past also applied to him... and for some reason, even though his actual age was over a thousand, the detection system still judged based on his appearance. Sometimes he was identified as a freshman, and more often he was invited to join the higher grades...
Merlin hated homework no matter the age.
With a sigh in his heart, he put away his thoughts, lifted the curtain and walked into the tent. There were three people in the tent, with neat suits and wands in their hands. They turned around when they heard the sound, and showed a slightly surprised look.
"A kid...?" he could hear one of them muttering to himself, but not quietly enough for him to miss it. This made him feel a little unhappy, and his already indifferent expression became more gloomy.
"Hello." Another wizard, with bright red hair, said politely, "We hope to meet members of the Emrys family. If the record is correct, it should now be Milvin Emrys who inherites the name."
The kind tone made him face slightly brighten and nodded, "That's me. And you?"
"Charlie Weasley." The red-haired wizard replied, "The Ministry of Magic's, Department of Fantastic Beasts, the Dragon Group."
"Pleasure." Merlin said half-heartedly, and pointed to the chairs next to him, "Please have a seat."
The wizards sat down. He noticed that except Weasley, the other two had a little contempt on their faces—probably looking at the youth's relatively immature appearance and underestimating his abilities. Based on this, when Merlin spoke, he only wanted to face the red-haired wizard.
"Ethel mentioned that you were here for the dragons."
"Indeed."
"There is a rule in the Ministry of Magic," another black-haired wizard interjected, "When it comes to the use of dragons, we must consult the Emrys family, the only remaining Dragonlord bloodline in the world."
There was a bit of resentful in his words, as if he didn't understand why he had to travel such great lengths to ask a child's opinion. Merlin pursed his lips, feeling a little bit anger in his mind. Not that he cared being treated like this, but coming to druid territory and questioning things they didn't understand so rudely... It seemed that the wizarding world was as arrogant as ever.
Thinking of this, a golden light flashed in his eyes—while making sure his hands were visible on the table—A glass teapot and a few glasses appeared out of nowhere, the cold fruit tea inside swayed slightly.
"You must be thirsty after coming from afar." He said indifferently, secretly satisfied with the shocked appearance of the three wizards. He lifted the teapot to fill three cups, and placed it in front of the guests gracefully. "Here."
"Wandless magic..." the other man murmured, his eyes widening. It's well known that wandless magic is one of the most difficult technic in the magical world, and only a few people in the world could do it, let alone without any spell or effort.
"Mr. Weasley, please continue to explain?" Merlin instructed, moving the teapot aside.
"Yes." Weasley nodded, hiding his surprise, voice still steady, "This year, the British School of Magic, Hogwarts, will hold the Triwizard Tournament. In the first task, the dragons will be used."
He took out a document from his coat and pushed it to the young man. "The details are here, the guarantor is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Order of Merlin, first Class."
Looking at the scarily long string signatures at the bottom of the document, Merlin was slightly amused. Percival, Order of Merlin... There was almost an indescribable sense of humor in this combination.
Put aside the funny felling, he glanced at the documents in front of him. The fighters will need to take the dragon egg—not a real dragon egg, but a fake golden one. Dragons will be confined to the arena, chained. Although there is some disrespect to the dragons, it will not be fatal.
"It doesn't seem to be a problem. But I will ask that when performing the task, the rest of the real eggs must have some protection to avoid damage in battle. And the dragons cannot be permanently harmed." Merlin put down the paper, "With these, I agree to use the dragon in the Triwizard Tournament."
"Of course." Weasley nodded. "But according to the rules, Mr. Emrys, your presence is by invitation."
"My presence…?" Merlin was slightly stunned, as if there was such a thing...
"Article 1 of the Dragon Clan Control Act, any use or disposal of the Dragon Clan must be approved by the current dragonlord —that is, the last dragonlord bloodline, the contemporary heir of the Emrys family." The red-haired wizard waved his wand and let the words appeared in the air while reading out aloud, "If the dragons are at risk of injury or death in the process, it should be supervised by Emrys to ensure the safety and rights of the dragons."
Merlin groaned inwardly.
Why did he agree to such troublesome rules in the first place?
Hogwarts, which means he has to go back to that school. Or he will have to receive a large number of owls...until he agrees to enroll.
"I see." If he transfers to the seventh grade, it will only take a year, "I will be there."
"Thanks."
"If there is nothing else, you can have lunch in the camp." Assessing the time, Merlin said, " Or I have no objection if you want to leave directly."
"I think we'll leave." He noticed that the initially rude dark-haired wizard hadn't touched his tea, and remained vigilant. The other person took a sip carefully in the process, showing a little curiosity and surprise.
"Yes, we need to get back to the Minister for Magic and reply to Professor Dumbledore." Weasley nodded. Among the three, Merlin admired the man's steadiness the most. Neither pride nor arrogant, calm and polite.
"Very well, Ethel will lead you out." The warlock stood up and made an inviting gesture.
The dark-haired wizard couldn't wait to get up and leave, while the other nodded to the warlock and followed. Merlin, on the other hand, noticed the red-haired wizard's hesitant footsteps, and his intentional backwardness.
"That... I know it's a bit rude." Weasley only spoke when his companions were far away, "But can you really order the dragons?"
The question itself was really inappropriate, which was to question the competence of others. But there was no malice in those twinkling eyes at all, but pure excitement - which made Merlin a little amused.
"Yes, I can."
"Oh, that's amazing." As soon as he finished the business, Weasley's expression turned into complete excitement, and it could be seen that he really had great enthusiasm in the dragons, "We heard a lot of dragonlord stories during our study, and many people didn't really believe it, but I always hoped to meet a real dragonlord. To be honest, in the knowledge of ordinary wizards, it is impossible to order any dragons. And great dragons! Can they really talk...?"
"Weasley!" A loud voice came from the front, the black-haired wizard shouted to his companions about ten meters away, "It's time to go!"
"Ha." Had to say, the red-haired wizard won a lot of good impression from Merlin, "Mr. Weasley, it seems that you need to leave."
"Ah, yes, sorry." The man said disappointedly.
"But since I'm going to Hogwarts, maybe we'll meet again." Merlin smiled, "Maybe we’ll have a chance to talk again."
"Really?" The slightly lost expression instantly lit up again.
"Go." Merlin hummed, neither admitting nor denying.
Reluctantly stopped for a second, and finally reasons prevailed. Weasley cast a last hopeful glance, shuffled to catch up with his companions, and followed Ethel toward the camp's exit.
Merlin stood there, thinking about returning to Hogwarts and the wizarding world, felt a little helpless. True, school wasn't that bad, but he subconsciously rejected getting along with the wand-holders. The wizards have always been self-sufficient and rejected outsiders. Already getting use to the Druid way of life, the thought of returning to the life of a disciplined student almost made him flinch.
Also, Hogwarts hasn't been completely quiet in recent years. He heard some strange rumors from the Druids' messengers, about the Chamber of Secrets, Voldemort and Dementors... He couldn't understand how such a good educational institution could come with so much trouble.
But thinking of the owls that Hogwarts used "inviting" him to school, Merlin couldn't help twitching the corners of his eyes.
He really would rather face his homework than be harassed like that for a whole year.
Damn Salazar, did he expect this long ago so came up with such a terrifying idea?
With a sigh in his heart, if he was going to Hogwarts, he had to bring a wand.