HP: Fantastic Beasts And The Right Way To Use Them

"Mm..."

Rubbing a head that still felt a little woozy, Evans straightened up, quickly checked the state of his body, then consciously triggered the fairy's danger sense. Only after confirming he had not been attacked did he look around, puzzled.

Barely half a minute earlier, he had just come up with a possible explanation and was about to share it with his companions when the scene before his eyes underwent a series of complicated changes.

First, the snow melted away. Then the landscape began to reshape itself. Trees cycled through countless springs, summers, autumns and winters in the span of heartbeats. The earth and sky changed appearance over and over again in an instant. That rapid-fire cascade of transformations went on for a full thirty seconds, leaving his head spinning from the sheer flood of information.

Fortunately, the shifting of the scene finally came to an end, and he could at last see his surroundings clearly.

It looked like some kind of medieval pasture. All around stood thatched sheds and fenced enclosures, and inside the fences roamed all kinds of magical creatures. They played and chased each other across the grass, an idyllic pastoral picture.

So this was supposed to be the Great Lake? Yet he still did not see anything that looked remotely like a lake.

"Meow~"

A Kneazle trotted up to his feet from who knew where. Evans crouched down and stroked its head, drawing a pleased, rumbling purr from its throat.

He was just about to scratch the Kneazle under the chin when a soft, unhurried set of footsteps sounded behind him. He turned at once, on guard, and saw an elderly witch who looked extraordinarily kindly, cradling a Niffler in her arms. When she noticed him look back, she gave him a gentle smile.

"Hello, young man."

"Good day, ma'am, you are..." Evans stared at her face, a strange sense of familiarity pricking at him. He rifled through his memories, then a flicker of astonishment crossed his expression. "Lady Hufflepuff?"

"That is me."

Her smile grew even softer as she watched the little Kneazle in Evans's palm wearing an expression of pure bliss. She paused for a moment. "You graduated from Hogwarts, did you not?"

"Yes, ma'am." Evans stood up. "I have heard quite a few legends about you."

"I imagine any legends about me were attached to the tales of Salazar or Godric," the old witch said, spreading her hands. Her gaze dropped back to the Kneazle, which was rubbing against Evans's trouser leg, reluctant to leave. She spoke softly. "You know its habits very well, and the little fellow in my arms is rather fond of you too. With a talent like that... which house did the Hat put you in?"

"Slytherin, ma'am."

At that, a trace of regret appeared on Lady Hufflepuff's face.

"It seems the legacy that excellent student of Salazar's left you still influenced that Hat far too much."

"A Slytherin student? Left me something?" Confusion crept across Evans's features. "What do you mean?"

"You do not know?" The old witch looked genuinely surprised. "Are you not his heir?"

"Heir..." Evans mouthed the word. His mind stalled for an instant, then his eyes flew wide. "Merlin?"

"Yes. Salazar taught an absolutely remarkable student," Lady Hufflepuff said, voice steeped in reminiscence. "If not for him, no one knows how long that age of darkness would have lasted. And we would never have been able to create a school capable of passing knowledge down the generations."

"But... was Merlin not from around the fifth century? He was supposed to be a contemporary of King Arthur..."

As he spoke, a memory flashed through Evans's mind: about a year ago, he had discussed medieval history with Professor Binns, and they had touched on this exact topic.

The name Merlin had appeared in both the fifth and the tenth centuries, and both figures were tremendously famous.

At the time, Professor Binns had explained that the wizarding world generally believed the two Merlins were not the same person. The evidence was that the Merlin who lived during the founding of Hogwarts had once stood before the Tree of Life, and the Tree had confirmed that his age matched his apparent appearance.

Ever since then, whenever Evans saw Merlin, he had always assumed he was meeting the Merlin who had lived in the fifth century.

But if he had once been Salazar Slytherin's student...

"So you have worked it out?"

Seeing the dawning realisation on the young man's face, Lady Hufflepuff nodded with a smile. "That is right. In this world, there has only ever been one Merlin of such fame."

"But how did he..."

A thousand questions clamoured inside Evans's chest, but the old witch slowly shook her head before he could voice them.

"I know you have many questions," she said softly. "But forgive me. I am only a phantom. There is much I do not truly understand."

"All I can tell you is that through a series of complex manoeuvres, he succeeded in holding that era in check. Yet that era did not vanish. It was sealed away within the world itself."

"And because of that, a great deal of knowledge was sealed along with it. It cannot be written down. It cannot be passed on in words. It cannot be easily understood. Only those of us who have seen it with our own eyes and grasped it personally are able to remember those things."

"For that very reason, we joined forces to reshape the heart of this forest, turning it into my pasture, Salazar's laboratory, Godric's battlefield, and Rowena's tower."

"From then on, we left behind these echoes of the old days and began a long wait, hoping that one day we could pass this knowledge on."

As she spoke, the old witch gently stroked the Niffler in her arms, her eyes full of tenderness.

"Unfortunately, these phantoms can only be activated once."

"In all this time, we have encountered several witches and wizards who were capable of bearing our legacy. Yet each of them had strikingly distinct qualities, and the knowledge they could comprehend differed as well. No matter whom we chose, it would mean the others' knowledge could never be passed down."

"And, of course, any witch or wizard who can rely on their own strength to reach the depths of this forest and trigger the wards we left behind would hardly be someone without pride of their own."

"So, until today, we have only now gained a chance. A chance to pass our knowledge on perfectly."

"So that is why I am here?" Evans nodded slowly, though doubt flickered once more in his eyes.

"But there are five of us. Five people for four founders. How are we supposed to divide things..."

"No, there are only four."

The old witch cut him off, a slightly mischievous smile tugging at her lips. Tilting her head at Evans, she said softly, "We sensed only four witches and wizards entering the bounds of our trial."

"And because of that, each of us can now choose the witch or wizard we deem most suitable, ask the questions we ourselves have always wanted answered, and in passing, teach some of the knowledge that can never be written into books."

"One each, for four of you. It works out perfectly."