[Third Person's PoV]
The next day…
Arthur brushed his lengthening side hair back and tied it into a small ponytail, securing it over where his hair reached down his neck. He examined himself in the mirror, adjusting his white dress shirt, black vest, and black dress pants. A black blazer draped over his shoulders, its long sleeves billowing slightly as he moved. Satisfied with his appearance, he nodded and headed out of his room.
He froze mid-step when he saw Merlin standing there, dressed in an elegant white witch's robe with a hood covering her head. She looked no older than a child, her youthful form a stark contrast to her usual mature appearance.
"What is it with your fascination with Muggle suits?" Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It makes me feel distinguished," Arthur replied with a haughty tone. "It's what you taught me: dress to impress. And as you've been hammering into my head for the past year, I'm technically nobility, so I have to look the part. Now, why are you a child?"
"To supervise you, obviously," Merlin replied, folding her arms. "While I'm allowing you to take lessons from Nicolas Flamel"—she said his name with palpable disdain—"that doesn't mean I'll stand by if he teaches you incorrectly. This way, I can be by your side without drawing suspicion."
"Wait! Does that mean you could potentially be joining me when I go to Hogwarts?!" Arthur asked, excitement lighting up his face.
"Not potentially. I am," Merlin scoffed. "There's no way I'm allowing you to go to that school all by yourself."
"Awesome! Yes!" Arthur exclaimed, his excitement barely contained.
Merlin smiled, clearly pleased by his reaction. "It's good to see my involvement won't bother you."
"Are you kidding?! I would have been bored to death and missed you like crazy if you didn't come along," Arthur said, still bubbling with enthusiasm.
Merlin's ears turned slightly red, a pleased smile gracing her lips. She held out her forearm. "Come on, we better be on our way then."
Arthur pressed his fingers to his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. Moments later, the sound of scurrying and frantic pitter-patter echoed as Cosmo leaped into his arms, letting out a soft meow. Arthur cradled the cat gently before placing a hand on Merlin's arm.
"Hold on tight," she warned.
With a crack like a gunshot, they spun and Disapparated, the world around them dissolving into a swirling vortex of darkness. Arthur felt as though he were being sucked through a narrow tube, his insides twisting and clenching painfully. Nausea roiled in his stomach.
They reappeared in a deserted street, and Arthur stumbled away from Merlin, releasing Cosmo, who landed on the ground with a soft thud. Both Arthur and Cosmo staggered to a nearby alley, side by side, and promptly began vomiting.
"Oh god…" Arthur gasped between heaves. "That was horrible! How could wizards and witches subject themselves to that? That's torture!" He spat to the side, wiping his mouth.
Merlin, looking immensely pleased, smirked at his discomfort. Arthur glared at her. "I know for a fact that you've discovered or even created a better way to teleport than that! You just wanted to see me in pain!"
"As you would say in your past life, I plead the fifth, your honor!" Merlin said with a mischievous grin.
"I've said it before and I'll say it again—you're evil!" Arthur muttered through gritted teeth.
Merlin winked. "Never said I wasn't. Now, come on, let's ask around and find out where Nicolas Flamel lives."
Arthur let out a resigned sigh and nodded as Merlin began leading them through the bustling streets of France. The colorful buildings towered around them, and old-fashioned cars trundled along the cobblestone roads. As they weaved through the crowd, Arthur kept a close eye on Cosmo, who was leisurely trailing behind them.
It wasn't long before they arrived in front of a green bronze statue of a woman reclining on her side, her draped bronze dress flowing over a large stone. Merlin glanced around before addressing the statue.
"Let us through, please," she said.
The statue moved, lifting a section of the dress to reveal the entire stone pedestal.
"Come," Merlin beckoned Arthur, stepping through the stone and disappearing.
"Awesome... Thank you," Arthur said politely to the statue before following with a wide grin, Cosmo at his heels.
"Welcome to the French side of the Wizarding World," Merlin announced with a smile.
…
A few hours later, Arthur was climbing the steps of a quaint house, a paper map clutched in his hands. He twisted it around, trying to make sense of it. "I think this is the place," he murmured.
He pressed the doorbell, Cosmo lying lazily on his shoulder, exhausted from their journey. Shortly after, a sweet-looking woman with dark brown and graying hairs in her 50s opened the door, peering down at the children after initially looking over their heads.
"Bonjour?" she greeted politely, surprised to see two sweet looking children by her doorsteps, although Merlin was the oddity out of the two with snow white hair and pointy ears, it was Arthur that drew her attention the most
"Good evening, madame," Arthur began in French, one of the many languages Merlin had taught him. "I hope I'm not bothering you, but is this perhaps the Flamel residence?"
"Who's asking?" she questioned warily as she found it the most strange that they would have visitors, especially such young ones. She wasn't expecting anyone.
"Pardon my rudeness," Arthur replied. "My name is Arthur, Arthur... King," he introduced, cheeks flushing as Merlin ever so slowly turned to him in disbelief.
"And this is—" he started, but Merlin interrupted with a smile.
"My name is Mer-lynn Sryme. A pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said, mentally rolling her eyes at Arthur's obvious alias. 'If he's going with something so transparent, so am I,' she thought.
"A pleasure," the woman replied, her suspicion not entirely abated. "This is indeed the Flamel residence. I am Perenelle Flamel. May I inquire why you two children are here and what you want with the Flamels?"
As Arthur opened his mouth to explain, Merlin interjected, her voice trembling with faux emotion. "We're here to see our father!" she exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes.
"What?" Perenelle asked, shocked. Arthur, equally astonished, stared at Merlin.
Merlin continued, sniffling as tears streamed down her face. "You see, we were raised by our single mother. She was sick and had to work hard to support us, but before she passed away, she told us to find our father, Nicolas Flamel! That he would support us when she couldn't anymore! On her deathbed she told us everything about him and to find him as he would surely help us!"
She collapsed into Arthur's arms, sobbing dramatically. Arthur, caught up in the performance, instinctively comforted her, his confusion temporarily overshadowed by concern.
Perenelle's eyes filled with rage as she turned back into the house. "NICHOLAS FLAMEL! GET YOUR STINKING BUTT OVER HERE THIS INSTANT AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF!" she bellowed.
Her outburst snapped Arthur out of his stupor. "Merlin, what the hell are you doing?!" he whispered urgently.
Merlin looked up with a devilish grin, sticking out her tongue mischievously, her expression one of pure mischief.
Footsteps hurried toward them. "What?! What's wrong, Perenelle dear?!" Nicolas Flamel appeared, his black and graying hair slightly disheveled.
Seeing him, Merlin resumed her sobbing on Arthur's shoulder. Perenelle recounted the tale with a glare that could cut glass.
Nicholas looked bewildered. "Perenelle, love, do you really think I could father children at my age? Look at them! They're so young, and I haven't left your side for years. When could I have possibly had the time?"
Perenelle blinked, the logic sinking in. She turned back to Arthur and Merlin, her eyes narrowing. "Who are you children really, and what do you want?"
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