"Harry Potter and the Shadows of Merlin"

The Ancient Runes classroom—regardless of translation—was located on the third floor. At Hogwarts, a professor's office usually adjoined their classroom, with their living quarters beyond that.

Dana reached Professor Babu Ling's office and prepared to knock when he noticed the door's inscription—"Ancient Runes Class Professor's Office"—flicker and change to:

"The door is unlocked, come in, child."

Startled, Dana opened the door. Inside wasn't a conventional office. Aside from an old sofa amid a clutter of oddities, there was no hint of a workspace. The room was more like a storeroom, filled with curious items: skeletal specimens in glass jars, ceramic pots, and yellowed volumes of books—

Dana's eyes caught a few titles that piqued his interest: You Abandoned Me, But Your Wand Is In My Hand; Dumbledore's Love History; The Love Between Salazar and Godric… Just those titles told Dana a lot about Professor Babu Ling's interests.

He walked deeper into the cramped room until he reached a second door. As he advanced to knock, it swung open smoothly on its own.

A slightly hoarse woman's voice called out, "Come in, Dana Emrys. Few students find their way to me nowadays."

True enough—Ancient Runes was an elective and notoriously difficult. Only top scorers aiming for "Outstanding" across all twelve subjects, or confident overachievers, chose it.

Walking into a much more lavish room, Dana saw Professor Babu Ling lounging on a circular bed over three meters wide. She wore a navy-blue, vintage-style nightgown and read a book casually—as if she hadn't invited him in.

Her straight black hair was neatly pulled back, revealing a thin, angular face with prominent dark circles under large eyes. Something about her appearance felt anachronistic—but her manner was unconventional.

"Good evening, Professor." Dana greeted her.

She set her book aside and looked at Dana. "Child, what do you want? First-years don't usually take Ancient Runes—did you see me in the Great Hall and fall under my spell? Ah, young and restless heart!"

Her words, teasing as they were, gave Dana the impression of controlled chaos.

"I have a phrase here, but I don't know what language it is." He handed her a note featuring a few transcribed words. He withheld the full sentence—he didn't know the script; what if it was from Merlin's notebook?

Professor Babu Ling chuckled as she examined the note. "You think it's Ancient Runes?"

"Yes," Dana replied, "but I couldn't find it in The Complete Guide to Ancient Runes of Britain."

She burst out laughing. "Child, of course it's not Ancient Runes—it's still spoken today."

He looked puzzled. "Then, professor, what is it?"

She laid her book on a silver-inlaid rosewood nightstand, rolled onto her stomach, and sighed, "I'm a bit sore after a long day. Give me a back massage—if it's good, I'll tell you the language."

Dana's expression fell. That was unexpected… But he was no pushover.

Instead, he strode over to a large sofa, sat down, and met her surprised gaze. He raised his wand and in an instant, transformed a coat rack and full-length mirror into two sturdy men. They strode toward her, ready to obey.

"Professor, I'm small and weak—why don't they give you the massage instead?"

Dana's Transfiguration left her visibly shocked—especially given his first-year status. "Truly worthy of the Emrys name."

The frivolous atmosphere vanished. She reached under her pillow for her wand and reversed the spell, returning the men to furniture. With that done, she sat up, expression composed.

"This text," she tapped the note, "is Welsh, a Celtic language. And yes—Merlin was Welsh."

She waved her hand. "There's your answer—off you go."

Dana asked, "Professor, could you teach me Welsh?"

Her lips curved. "Of course. But I'll charge you—after hours, outside class."

"What kind of payment?"

She tilted her head. "A favor. You owe me one. When the time comes, you'll fulfill it. Then I can teach you Welsh now."

Dana bowed modestly. "Thank you for your guidance, Professor. But I can't agree right now. Good night."

He left—refusing her proposal. The scariest thing? Owing her a favor. Who knew what she'd ask?

She exuded something… fishy. It'd be foolish to agree easily.

Eventually, knowing the language was worth it, but he had to be cautious.

Back in the dorms, Dana flipped through textbooks until midnight, thinking about "Merlin's Welsh." He tried… but clearly failed. He picked up a note from his notebooks:

"Knowledge requires learning. No one can cram a whole bunch into your head! No one! Idiot!"

His "golden finger" had personality—and a smart mouth. Not bad.

Dana smiled to himself to disguise his unease.

That night, Dana's sleep was restless. He longed to transform into a bird, fly to Wales, find a Muggle Welsh speaker, and then Imperio them into teaching him, or translate Merlin's notebook directly.

But he feared detection—after all, Dumbledore was inscrutable. Who knew what wards were in place?

He wavered—should he go? Should he wait? Sleep finally came at four or five in the morning. He nearly overslept for Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class.

Still, the night wasn't wasted: Dana decided on his next steps. Welsh could wait until Christmas holidays. For now, school came first.

With that, he entered Transfiguration class—Professor McGonagall's dignified tabby cat sat on the podium… and Dana's shift in focus felt right as he prepared for the morning's lesson.

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