HP: Beyond Miracle

He made his way up through the castle.

Perhaps because classes had only just resumed and everyone was busy, Dawn was surprised to find that not a single student was outside the library when he arrived.

Still, judging by the portraits that kept glancing his way from the corridors, Dumbledore undoubtedly already knew he was here.

Dawn didn't particularly care.

As he walked, he took his time looking around the castle. The familiar halls carried a strange nostalgia.

Pausing outside the library, he glanced through the windows at the empty reading room before walking straight to Madam Pince.

"Excuse me," he said politely. "Could I trouble you for a moment? I'm looking for books related to Merlin."

"Could you point me in the right direction?"

"Merlin?"

Without looking up from the book in her hands, Madam Pince replied automatically.

"Go inside, turn right, and the sixth bookshelf has a copy of The True Record of Merlin. It should be what you're looking for."

She raised her head and pointed toward the shelves.

Then she froze.

Her eyes widened as she stared at the boy before her, blinking repeatedly as if she suspected she was hallucinating.

"...Dawn Richter?"

"That's right, Madam Pince." Dawn smiled pleasantly. "I'm delighted you remembered my name."

He gave a slight bow before walking deeper into the library.

Madam Pince remained rooted to the spot in disbelief for several long moments before falling into an internal struggle over whether she should rush to find Dumbledore or stay here and keep an eye on him.

Towering bookshelves stretched throughout the library.

Breathing in the faint scent of ink and pinewood, Dawn found his mood calming almost immediately.

There was something deeply reassuring about the place.

"The sixth shelf... The True Record of Merlin... Ah, here it is."

His gaze swept across the titles before stopping.

He pulled out a thick volume bound in reddish-brown leather and leaned casually against the bookshelf as he began reading.

Ten minutes later, however, he closed it with a sigh.

The book was nothing more than a straightforward biography of Merlin's life. It wasn't the kind of material he was looking for.

"Madam Pince," he called across the library without the slightest concern for its rules of silence, "are there any other books that fit what I need?"

"Preferably works that explore theories or speculation rather than historical records."

"No! I don't know!"

Her reply came immediately, firm and defensive.

She had stationed herself directly in front of the library entrance, blocking students from wandering inside while simultaneously looking for an opportunity to notify Dumbledore.

Her face clearly declared that she had no intention whatsoever of helping him.

Dawn clicked his tongue softly.

Just as he had expected.

The Prophet might have rehabilitated his reputation, but within Dumbledore's sphere of influence, he remained thoroughly unwelcome.

Seeing no point wasting time arguing, Dawn narrowed his eyes, memorizing Madam Pince's special trait pattern.

A burst of flame engulfed him.

Pop!

The air rippled.

Wait! What was that?

Apparition?

Wasn't Hogwarts protected by Anti-Apparition enchantments?

Madam Pince had never witnessed anything like it. She stood frozen in astonishment.

Before she could recover, another burst of flame appeared.

Dawn stepped back out as though nothing had happened.

Having already copied and extracted Madam Pince's memories, he ignored her entirely and walked directly toward another bookshelf.

From it, he removed a dusty volume.

[Merlin? A Slytherin Hoax!]

Raising an eyebrow, he skimmed through its contents.

The author's central argument was straightforward.

Merlin had never existed.

His legend had been fabricated by a clever Slytherin wizard who had fooled generations of magical Britain.

Dawn rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Considering both the voice from his dream and Nicolas Flamel's attitude toward the subject, he found it difficult to believe Merlin was nothing more than fiction.

That said...

He had heard many people claim Merlin had once been Slytherin's greatest student.

Yet the Arthurian legends took place during the fifth and sixth centuries.

Hogwarts, meanwhile, wasn't founded until the ninth or tenth century.

Perhaps...

That several-hundred-year discrepancy was exactly why this author had reached such a conclusion.

Then again...

Thinking back to Flamel's theory...

If an Obscurus really could survive indefinitely...

Then perhaps Merlin had simply decided, centuries later, to enroll at Hogwarts on a whim.

Merlin's immense fame, combined with the enormous gaps in the historical record, kept producing one strange theory after another in Dawn's mind.

After a quiet moment of thought, he slid the book back onto the shelf and followed Madam Pince's memories toward the next one.

[The Origins of the Order of Merlin]

[Merlin and the Oak]

[Purebloods and Muggles Through Merlin's Eyes]

Hogwarts' library truly possessed an impressive collection.

Within half an hour, Dawn had gathered over a dozen books concerning Merlin.

Unfortunately...

After skimming each of them, he discovered they were almost entirely useless.

Some merely summarized Merlin's legendary life.

Others indulged in baseless speculation.

The worst offender, however, was a book titled Things Merlin Never Told You.

Hundreds of pages.

All dedicated to arguing that because Merlin had treated Muggles fairly... He must once have fallen in love with a Muggle girl.

What was even the point of a book like this?

It wasn't remotely as original—or as rigorously reasoned—as Nicolas Flamel's work.

Dawn slammed the book back onto the shelf with obvious irritation.

"Oh, easy there, my boy."

A familiar voice sounded behind him.

"Books are the distilled wisdom of generations of witches and wizards. If you're too rough with them, they'll cry in silence."

The speaker paused before asking gently,

"Are you particularly interested in Merlin?"

"...You could say that."

Recognizing that Dumbledore had apparently been standing nearby for quite some time, Dawn pulled another book from the shelf without looking back.

[Death, Merlin, and Love]

He opened it while replying, "Unfortunately, everything I've found so far has been useless."

Five minutes later...

Snap.

He shut the book expressionlessly.

Death, Merlin, and Love.

Judging by the title, he'd already suspected it probably wasn't what he wanted.

What he hadn't expected...

Was that it turned out to be romantic fanfiction pairing Merlin with King Arthur.

Why did Hogwarts even own something like this?

This library was hopeless.

Taking a slow breath, Dawn shoved the book back into its place.

Dumbledore seemed to notice his frustration.

"Why not ask me instead?"

The old Headmaster stroked his beard.

"There was a time when I was quite fascinated by Merlin myself. I looked into a fair number of historical records.

Perhaps I know something you're searching for."

Really?

Dawn raised an eyebrow.

Remembering the memories he had extracted from Dumbledore's duplicate, his gloomy mood instantly improved.

Times had changed, Headmaster.

Suppressing the smile threatening to spread across his face, he asked casually,

"Headmaster, I remember that Hogwarts' Headmasters can access enrollment records from previous generations.

Was Merlin actually a Slytherin student?"

"That..."

Dumbledore hesitated before spreading his hands helplessly.

"To be honest, my boy, I can't say for certain."

He frowned thoughtfully.

"It's simply been too long. Not every student record has survived the centuries.

At the very least, among those that remain, I've never found Merlin's name."

So there wasn't one.

Dawn nodded thoughtfully.

He had many more questions, but since reading Dumbledore's memories later would be far more efficient, he simply changed the subject.

"Headmaster, could you introduce me to Mr. Newt Scamander? I'd like to consult him about a few matters concerning magical creatures."

"Newt?"

The unexpected request caused Dumbledore's eyes to narrow.

Dawn had arrived first thing in the morning searching for information about Merlin.

Now he was asking after Newt.

The uncertainty behind those requests left Dumbledore increasingly uneasy.

"My boy... may I ask why?"

The Headmaster coughed lightly, probing for an answer.

He couldn't help worrying that Dawn was planning yet another experiment capable of blowing Hogwarts sky-high.

"I simply want to ask him a few questions about magical creatures."

Dawn met his gaze calmly.

Dumbledore considered the answer.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible.

After the incident in Jerusalem, Newt has been assisting the International Confederation of Wizards with their investigation.

He is also busy recovering the magical creatures that escaped from his case.

So, at least for the time being... I'm afraid I don't know where he is."

"I see."

Unable to determine whether Dumbledore was telling the truth, Dawn decided there was no point pressing the matter.

He simply nodded.

Glancing once more at the shelves overflowing with utterly useless Merlin books, he decided to move on and ask Lupin about the Marauder's Map instead.

He bid the Headmaster farewell.

Before he could leave, however, Dumbledore called after him.

"Dawn.

Fudge wrote to me recently. He requested the use of Hogwarts' Great Hall in one month's time.

Would you happen to know what that's about?"

The Great Hall?

Oh.

The venue for his magical presentation.

Understanding immediately, Dawn nonetheless replied with perfect innocence,

"I'm sorry, Headmaster. I have absolutely no idea."

That surprise could wait until Dumbledore discovered it for himself.

Maintaining an entirely harmless expression, Dawn walked past the still-watchful Madam Pince and exited the library.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Dumbledore quietly following behind.

Classes had just ended.

Students now filled the corridors, their cheerful laughter echoing through the thousand-year-old castle.

It was a pleasant scene.

Until Dawn appeared.

The moment he walked past... The peaceful atmosphere dissolved into complete chaos.

"Wait! Look over there!"

"Merlin's beard! Isn't that the Dark wizard... No, wait. Didn't they clear his name?"

The newspapers had worked tirelessly to restore Dawn's reputation.

Unfortunately...

For most students who had actually lived through the previous year's events, changing their opinions wasn't so simple.

Every time he rounded a corner, students froze as though they'd seen a ghost.

Some screamed.

Others stumbled backward and landed flat on the floor.

The first-years, most of whom had only recently entered the magical world and knew nothing of his history, merely stood there in bewilderment.

The castle descended into utter confusion.

Dawn's lips curled upward.

He rather enjoyed the spectacle.

It was only a shame Dumbledore's presence restrained the more entertaining reactions.

Then—

A hand suddenly landed on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

Well now.

Who was bold enough to do that?

Curious, Dawn turned around.

Two nearly identical boys stood behind him. Twin flames of bright red hair immediately gave them away.

The Weasley twins.

"Hey!"

One of them shouted.

"You're Richter, right?"

"You used my body to do all that stuff! Don't you think you owe me something?"

Dawn glanced meaningfully toward Dumbledore behind him.

He had assumed the Headmaster would continue keeping that incident hidden from the victims.

Apparently not.

In truth, that wasn't Dumbledore's fault.

He had only told Mrs. Weasley.

The twins had learned the rest through their own impressive talent for eavesdropping.

Dawn brushed the hand from his shoulder.

"Don't be ridiculous, George. I used Fred's body. What does that have to do with you?"

"I'm Fred!"

George replied immediately, putting on his most serious expression.

Dawn simply looked at the obvious bald patch atop his head.

"Heh.

George. If you're going to lie, at least check your hair first.

It's been six months and it still hasn't grown back. What exactly did Snape do to you?

Don't tell me it's permanent?"

"..."

George froze.

His composure shattered instantly.

Covering his head with both hands, he cried out, "You think this is my fault?!"

"A bet's a bet."

Dawn shrugged.

"If anyone deserves blame, it's you. You lost because your prank inventions weren't as good as mine."

He waved dismissively.

"That bald spot is hurting my eyes, George. Maybe next time."

George collapsed dramatically onto his knees.

Tears streamed down his face as he mourned his departed hair, watching helplessly while Dawn continued toward the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Behind them, Dumbledore sighed softly.

He made a mental note to speak with Snape later on George's behalf.

Then again...

Remembering what George had actually said to Snape that day... Even Dumbledore had been left thinking only one thing.

Truly worthy of Gryffindor.

Fred had remained silent throughout.

Watching Dawn disappear into the distance, he still felt deeply uncomfortable about having his body stolen.

That was why he hadn't stepped forward earlier.

Only after Dawn and Dumbledore had vanished did he walk into the middle of the corridor and pat George gently on the head.

"Come on. Get up. You overdid the performance this time."

"No..." George sniffled. "You don't understand. I'm genuinely heartbroken."

Permanent baldness...

Even for someone who loved practical jokes as much as he did... Was simply unacceptable.

Fred could only stare at him speechlessly.

Meanwhile...

Dawn followed the ever-moving staircases until he arrived on the fourth floor, stopping outside the office that had once been his own.

He pushed the door open.

Creak.

A modest office greeted him.

Almost instinctively, his eyes wandered across the room.

An ordinary desk.

An ordinary chair.

Plain decorations.

A worn suitcase resting in the corner.

The carefully cultivated air of mystery that had once filled the office was gone.

In its place remained a room as unimaginative as any ordinary Muggle apartment.

Although he had expected as much...

Seeing every trace of himself erased still left him with an unexpected sense of emptiness.

For a moment... He simply stood there.

Hearing the door, Lupin turned around. Seeing Dumbledore standing there, he looked surprised.

"Headmaster? And this is...?"

A werewolf worn down by years of hardship, Lupin thought the boy looked vaguely familiar, though he didn't immediately recognize the face that had become so common in the newspapers.

"My name is Dawn Richter."

Recovering himself, Dawn introduced himself.

His tone, however, carried unmistakable hostility.

He wasn't angry at Lupin personally.

He was simply venting his irritation toward the man who had inherited his old position as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.

"Professor Lupin."

He deliberately echoed Snape's sarcastic manner when speaking the title.

Activating Occlumency, he walked straight to an old cabinet and pulled open its doors.

Inside...

A Boggart shifted restlessly, attempting to transform.

Without taking his eyes off it, Dawn turned halfway toward Lupin.

His expression, divided by alternating light and shadow, became difficult to read.

"With all due respect, Professor Lupin...

But surely you aren't planning to spend an entire year teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts with something as useless as this?

Because if you are... You'll only be fooling yourselves while collecting your salary."

___________

Upto 20 chapters ahead on patreon :-

patreon.com/BloodAncestor

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!