Who: Merlin & Aberforth Dumbledore What: What better time to size up your sister’s crush than when you’re trapped with him? When: March 10 Where: The school Rating/Status: Low/Complete
Merlin wasn’t terribly concerned about the snowstorm. The building was warm, there were people around, and while food was low, he’d certainly survived on less before. With two adults around (though Merlin still resented the fact that he was considered a child) he’d seen no point in panicking. He’d kept mostly to himself for the past day and a half, reading unless one of the others approached him about something.
He had noticed that the older man had been shooting him a lot of glances. Ariana had introduced him to her older brother, and Merlin was used to a certain amount of staring from new individuals, but this felt different. There was something behind Aberforth’s look that had nothing to do with his name. Merlin was perfectly content to ignore it, but then something happened.
Aberforth came over to speak to him.
“I think we should talk.” Aberforth had spent the majority of his time locked in the school with Ariana. He’d been at his job, in the clothing store, when the snow had started to fall, but the weather had left him worried about his sister and so he’d trudged through the beginnings of a blizzard to get to the school. He wanted to make sure that she was safe. He needed to be sure, and the only way that could happen was if he was with her.
His birthday party was still leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Being that close to Albus had been difficult, but watching Ariana be affectionate with him was far worse. He was the man that killed her. Even if she didn’t know she’d done it, it hardly mattered, because Aberforth knew and he knew that Albus didn’t deserve anything from his sister.
Merlin simply looked up at the older man for several moments before reaching for a bookmark and carefully marking his place. “Very well.” Aberforth obviously had something on his mind. “What do you think we should talk about?”
“My sister.” Aberforth took this as an invitation to sit down, and with the side of his shoe he moved a wooden chair that looked far to small for such a broad man just a little bit closer.
“Ariana?” Obviously Ariana, she was Aberforth’s only sister... Or so he assumed; Ariana had only ever mentioned having two brothers. The young man was obviously surprised, though, and gave him a puzzled look. “All right.”
“How well do you know her?” To say that the subject of Ariana was a sensitive one for Aberforth would be a gross understatement. He didn’t know what to do with her sometimes. In Lockewood, he felt the need to protect her as he had when they lived in Godric’s Hollow, but the way in which he was protecting her was different. Back then, when he was fifteen, the main danger to Ariana was Ariana, but here that changed.
That was a difficult question to answer, and Merlin rested his chin on his hand as he studied the man sitting opposite of him. He recognized the type; he wouldn’t appreciate a dissertation on the meanings and interpretations of his question. He asked something because he wanted an answer, and preferably an answer he understood. Still, Merlin had never been very good at giving completely straight answers.
“It is difficult to say,” he said. “I have been here only a few months, but your sister knew me when I was here before, as several have told me. She knows me better than I know her, likely. We are friends, but I would not claim to completely understand her character.”
Was this town completely inhabited by men who liked to speak like Albus? He was really beginning to think so, because the only people who actually seemed capable of giving straight answers was that man he’d met, Severus Snape. Maybe that was the real reason he’d killed Albus Dumbledore: sheer frustration.
There was something to be said about the fact that he was talking to Merlin, however, and Aberforth did have to admit that if a man existed who might be capable of taking care of Ariana’s outbursts and magic volatility he supposed Merlin could qualify.
“You’re her friend.” Aberforth had survived Victorian England and pushed past it, adjusting with the changing times, the attitudes towards women, the wars--the amusement of watching Canadian alcohol get smuggled into the United States. He loved that things changed and he had an appreciation for it, but when it came to his sister his opinion was archaic. “What does her friendship mean to you?”
What did friendship mean to anyone? Merlin was a little puzzled by the question. “I do not think the question is as clear as you think it is,” he told Aberforth, his expression bemused. His English was occasionally at fault for this sort of thing, but he didn’t think so this time. “I do not think you wish me to speak philosophically on the subject, and I do not think you would be asking everyone what her friendship means. So what are you trying to ask me?”
Aberforth shifted in his seat and flashed Merlin a look for a moment that said he didn’t care who he was or how much magic he possessed in that little blonde head of his because he could still introduce him to the floor with his fist if he so desired it. He cleared his throat.
“Your intentions. Are they romantic?”
Oh. Oh. That was... not what Merlin was expecting, and the surprise was very evident on his features. One of the few things he had virtually no experience with was romance, and right now, he wasn’t even sure where Aberforth had gotten that impression. “Wh-” He cut off, and for once, he actually looked like a normal seventeen-year-old boy: trying to remain confident when he was in way over his head. “I did not... Why would...”
He had kissed Ariana, but it had been for that Valentine’s date, and she hadn’t seemed to mind. Had she told her brother? Aberforth hadn’t been around then, so he couldn’t have assumed it had happened. He cleared his throat, steadying his voice. “I do not have any intentions.” Which was true. Because the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind until Aberforth put it there.
He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but he couldn’t quite dismiss the fact that he didn’t find Merlin all that trustworthy. It may have had more to do with the superficial fact that Merlin was blond and as a general rule, Abe had learned not to trust blond men.
“None?”
“No!” It came out a little too quickly, and Merlin felt a light flush creep onto his face. He looked away from Aberforth, trying to settle his thoughts. A few moments later, he looked back at the older man, his expression composed again. “Mr. Dumbledore, your sister and I are from completely different times, trapped in a strange place with no way of telling how long either of us may be here. It is hardly the ideal situation for romantic entanglements.”
Now Aberforth didn’t know much about romantic entanglements, but he’d seen boys fall in love with girls in the middle of a war. He’d seen boys fall in love with German girls in the middle of a war, and he knew that the idealness of the situation never quite entered into it.
“I want you to come see me.” Aberforth said. “If you mind changes.”
Merlin hated it when people demanded anything of him, and his instinct was to brush it off. But he couldn’t deny that this was perfectly reasonable, and Ariana’s father wasn’t around. If such a circumstance occurred, her brother was the obvious person to talk to, and Aberforth was certainly older than Albus right now. It wasn’t as though he subscribed to the ‘modern’ notions of dating, either. After a few moments’ hesitation, he nodded. “I will.”
Aberforth leaned over and slapped a hand on the boy’s back. “Good. That’s all I have to say to you.”