Babblings of a Muppet-Loving Freak

Yes, I'm speeding this up a tad. I didn't want this to go into March.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made from this fanfic.
Warnings: Danger to children, bullying.

2 Once upon a Time

I read voraciously, absorbing books at such speed that the orphanage’s small collection was depleted by the time I was seven years old. The stories of the days of Merlin intrigued me the most. I remember reading a tatty copy of the tales of King Arthur over and over until I had got it practically by heart. It was not the silly romance or Lancelot and his Guinevere or the tales of the knights and their Round Table or even the betrayal of Modred that fascinated me. These were details in the background.

No, what always fascinated me was Merlin.

3 Hero Worship

I was both intrigued and repulsed by Merlin. He was powerful, and that was something to fire my aspirations even before knowing I was a wizard as great as he. He worked wonders in the king’s court and twisted fate to bring about the ends he wanted, and these too were admirable things. But what repulsed me was his capture by Nimue, the inevitable and predictable fall from the heights of glory through the trap for weak-minded fools: love. He loved her, and he lost his power to her.

I learned a great lesson from those dear days of childhood.

4 Checkmate

If one wishes to learn chess, one does not study only the moves of a victorious master to see where he went right but also the mistakes of the vanquished to see where he went wrong. Merlin was the greatest master of magic who ever lived, yet love conquered him. Merlin taught me that danger very well, but more than that, I wanted to see how he had fallen. I read bits of old legends over and over again, all the different, conflicting stories of his downfall, and finally I arrived at what no Muggle author ever could: the truth.

5 Susurrations

Some of the sources said Merlin was imprisoned in a tree or an invisible tower or a crypt deep in a castle. These were all lies, though some came close. In later years I realized that writers threw a veil over Merlin’s resting place, probably to hide it from prying eyes. My eyes, of course, were worthy of the secret, and so it waited for me.

It waited until a lovely summer day when the orphans were dragged into the country for a respite from the city’s endless prison of brick and cobblestones, and then it whispered my true name.

6 Precipitous

I thought I was going mad at first. The grass spread in all directions with the single exception of where the cliffs descended sharply into the sea. There were no words as such, but the pull I felt towards those cliffs was so very strong that I wondered in a perfectly clear, diliberate way whether I were contemplating suicide.

The teachers were busy elsewhere. One of the littler brats had scraped its knee and was bawling loudly. In retrospect, I may have done that on instinct to provide a cover. I walked to the edge and looked over, completely unafraid.

7 Half-Truths

The boy and girl who came up behind me should have known better. Even then I could read the secret desires of their minds, and I knew part of them wished the frightening bully would plummet to his death and spare them months and years of further humiliation and pain. Instead, though, the boy spoke.

“It’s dangerous by the edge. Mrs. Cole said. You’ll get in trouble.”

I turned and smiled at him, that charming smile I could use to get my way almost any time.

“There’s nothing to be frightened of,” I said soothingly. “Come and look. It’s wonderful.”

8 Drastic

The girl, Amy, was more of a problem. She took the boy’s hand—Dennis, his name was—and started back towards the group. I couldn’t have that. They’d tell tales to the teachers, and I’d be taken away with no chance to find out anything for another year. Interference was not to be tolerated.

There was no choice. They would have to come with me.

Neither of them was expecting me to grab them each by a shoulder, nor did they expect me to drag them forward over the edge with me. How could they? I didn’t expect it myself.

9 Command

They were as silent and unresisting as stones when I placed them onto a ledge of the nearly sheer face of that cliff. The shock of it had made them senseless. I will grant you, it was indeed a dizzying height. I felt giddy myself, and even as a child I feared very little.

“Remain quiet if you value your lives. If so, there is a chance your bodies won’t wash up with the morning tide. Only a chance, mind. I’m not in the mood for any foolishness, and this is the only warning you shall receive. Do you understand?”

10 Answer

The boy nodded, his eyes enormous, but the girl had the temerity to open her mouth and speak.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

Her question implied not resistance but resignation to the fact that I had won, so I decided to permit an answer rather than merely throwing her to the rocks below for her disobedience. Besides, what fun would there be in it if I didn’t let them know what was coming?

“Down,” I said, and I gave them my true smile, one similar to that of a lion in a circus we had seen the previous autumn.