Merlin had fulfilled his destiny. Albion was alive and beautiful, and magic was no longer feared in the land. But nothing ever lasts, does it? Memories gone, and in his ten-year-old form once more, he's traveled over a thousand years in the future...
The first question that most parents asked – after their newly discovered witch or wizard stopped rambling – was whether or not they were certain. After all, how did they know that their child was a magic user?
It wasn't like they had taken an Are You a Wizard? exam.
In fact, no one in the Muggle community was even aware of their existence until a representative showed up on their doorstep. The Deputy Headmistress had realized long ago that just sending the letter alone was often regarded as a hoax and discarded. So, their question was a perfectly legitimate one. A pity she still hadn't figured out the appropriate answer to it. Usually, she simply averted their attention by explaining they were certain – but not how they were certain.
It was a lot better than saying, "Their name just appearing on my roster."
Minerva McGonagall sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing exhaustion from her eyes. She wasn't as young as she used to be either – she had no idea how Albus managed it in his obscene age. She remembered how one parent a few years back had demanded to know the specifics – nearly drove her mad and she'd been forced to actually go to the Ministry and ask. Apparently, they had some kind of sensor system in place to pick up magic in those underage and they were automatically added to the system. The muggle hadn't been pleased with the answer.
It was magic. Get over it.
She would be going to visit the new muggleborns in a few weeks. She knew for certain there was at least two. Most students who came were half-blood with a few purebloods and muggleborns thrown into the mix. She frowned, and summoned the roster from the cabinet with a flick of her wand, wanting to peruse the list again.
Well, that was odd.
There was another name on the list.
It wasn't unheard of, of course. Sometimes someone would move in and suddenly come within the bounds of the Ministry and adjustments would be made. She glanced at her schedule, wondering when she should drop by to give the news – his blood status was marked with a question mark, but since he was living in a muggle orphanage she assumed that he was either half-blood or muggleborn. Wait, which orphanage was he in?
Oh. That orphanage.
Maybe she'd let the headmaster handle this one. He was familiar with that place after all.
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Merlin Evans.
He thought the name had a good ring to it. Evans kind of reminded him of Emrys too, so he didn't feel like he was being completely unfaithful to his given name.
Experiencing life in the future was very confusing. Especially the first week that he was there. By the second he was starting to get the hang of it. True, he still felt like an idiot when Silas tried to talk to him about something called a telly and something that he'd seen on it or when he asked him which football team he was rooting for. But, at least he wasn't getting any more odd looks from Martha Green.
