Chapter 47 — Negotiations with the Merfolk
"Professor, I'm truly flattered," Russell said, wearing the perfect expression of humble gratitude.
"Your work is obviously far more important."
Of course, what he really meant was:
Please don't pay too much attention to me—focus on the future savior Harry Potter instead.
Dumbledore chuckled softly.
"As eloquent as Esmeralda described."
I'll take that as a compliment, Russell thought.
"Look—here they come," Dumbledore said suddenly, turning toward the Black Lake as though he had sensed something beforehand.
"Where?" Cedric squinted at the water, seeing nothing.
But before the words left his mouth, the lake's surface began to churn—
bubbling violently as if the whole body of water were boiling.
One after another, figures rose from the depths: Merfolk who looked almost identical to the princess lying petrified on the ground.
At their lead was a massive Merfolk chief—taller and broader than the others, wearing a roughly carved bone crown that somehow looked both menacing and ridiculous.
He was screeching furiously at them.
"@￥@￥%%￥%!"
(Return my daughter!)
"Do you know what he's saying?" Cedric whispered, utterly lost.
"Probably asking why you don't like his daughter," Russell replied casually—
and Cedric immediately smacked him hard on the shoulder.
"@￥%￥%!"
(We can negotiate—but only if you agree to end this matter here.)
Dumbledore answered calmly in flawless Mermish.
Cedric's jaw dropped.
"Merlin's beard… Professor Dumbledore speaks Mermish?"
"Of course," Russell whispered back. "He speaks Gobbledegook too."
After Dumbledore spoke, the mer-king's overwhelming aura noticeably weakened—
but the anger in his eyes only intensified.
"@%%￥%!"
(Impossible! I demand punishment for the attacker—execute them!)
He raised his arm, and the surrounding Merfolk lifted their spears, ready to throw.
"@%%."
(Look at this first.)
Dumbledore remained calm and pointed his wand at the petrified princess.
"Legilimens."
None of them knew what method he used,
but a memory projection appeared in the air before them—the point of view unmistakably that of the mermaid princess.
Cedric went pale.
Russell was equally stunned.
"So it was really this melodramatic?" he murmured.
Moments ago, joking that the princess had fallen for Cedric had seemed absurd—
but reality turned out to be more ridiculous than the joke.
The memory unfolded:
One early morning, the princess—whose name was Abachin—had been swimming leisurely through the lake.
She noticed a young wizard practicing spells alone on the shore and curiously approached, observing him from beneath the surface.
By human standards, Cedric was handsome.
By Merfolk standards… he absolutely wasn't.
Yet somehow, Abachin found something inexplicably appealing about him.
From that day on, she visited the same spot every morning, watching him practice—
and slowly, dangerously, a forbidden longing bloomed in her heart.
She had fallen in love with Cedric.
But she also knew their relationship was impossible.
Her father despised humans—everyone except Dumbledore, and that exception wasn't because he feared him.
It was respect for the only wizard strong enough to keep Voldemort out of Hogwarts.
As time passed, her suppressed feelings piled up until she could no longer bear it.
She decided she would drag Cedric to the bottom of the lake and marry him.
Even if her father objected, she wouldn't give up—she was ready to abandon her title and elope.
Her imagination was beautiful.
What she didn't consider was whether Cedric loved her back.
Why would she? She was the most beautiful of the Merfolk princesses; countless young mermen had sought her favor.
But just as she planned to act, she saw someone standing beside Cedric.
Russell.
Her plans collapsed immediately. She feared he would interfere.
So she could only retreat back into the water and wait, hoping one morning Cedric would appear alone…
She never expected they would literally blast her out of the lake.
---
"Cedric, I just saved your life," Russell said, poking the still-shaken Cedric.
"If I wasn't here, you'd already be dragged to the bottom—working as her husband-slave."
"Absolutely," Cedric said quickly.
"From today on, you're my best friend."
The thought alone made him shudder violently.
"She brought this on herself," Dumbledore said, ending the memory projection.
This time he didn't speak in Mermish.
The Merfolk, of course, could understand human speech—Dumbledore normally used their language as a sign of respect.
But today, they had crossed a line.
"%￥%."
The mer-king's rage diminished. He signaled his followers to lower their spears, then pointed directly at Cedric.
"What does he want now?" Cedric whispered, dread creeping up his spine.
"Whatever it is, the answer is no."
Dumbledore's tone sharpened.
With a flick of his wand, he lifted the Petrification Curse from the princess—and, seeing the stubborn determination in her eyes, promptly hurled her straight back into the lake.
A massive splash erupted.
"Professor, won't that cause… a diplomatic incident?" Russell asked anxiously.
"Maybe we should just give Cedric to them—"
Before he could finish, Cedric locked an arm around his neck from behind.
Russell gagged.
With Dumbledore present—and the Merfolk clearly in the wrong—everyone relaxed.
Relaxed enough to joke about it.
Stalking.
Following.
Attempted kidnapping.
Forced marriage…
Any one of these was enough for a long sentence.
"Don't worry, Fythorne," Corvey said with a narrowed-eyed smile.
"With the Headmaster here, wiping them out completely wouldn't be difficult."
He spent half his life fighting dark creatures—Merfolk were nothing compared to that.
"You're too harsh, Ivan."
Dumbledore sighed.
"Why is it so hard to offer them a little more compassion?"
Corvey's smile vanished instantly.
His face turned cold—like steel.
"That kindness you speak of—
it's the reason I…"
"Ivan Corvey."
Dumbledore's voice cracked like a whip.
Russell froze.
He had never heard the Headmaster sound like this—
a mix of guilt, helplessness, and a faint thread of anger.
"That's enough," Dumbledore said softly, as though the words cost him his strength.