It was a horrible way to start the week. Wayne Hopkins was nearly falling into his porridge bowl one miserable Monday morning in the middle of the year. He had large black bags under his normally shining blue eyes, and his hair and clothes were in various states of disarray. He moodily stirred his oatmeal while the rest of the Hufflepuffs came into the Great Hall and avoided the gloomy and sleepy teen. That was to be expected. The other fifth year Hufflepuffs knew to give the muggleborn a wide berth after the first four years of experience. The rest of the other houses piled in as the clock neared the quarter to eight, the Great Hall now filled with chatter and excitement (mostly from the Ravenclaws and a particularly book-loving Gryffindor as they discussed their classes for that day, goodness knows why, it was school).

Yes. It was a typical Monday.

Just as he was about to fall headfirst into his bowl of slop- not his best idea to stay up all night writing that three foot long Potions essay due first period, Wayne thought miserably to himself- a familiar chime flew through the air, echoed by the squawks of messenger owl and hawk as aforementioned birds appeared. They stormed the large room, papers dropping left and right onto their owners. The sluggish boy grabbed the paper that dropped onto his head, muttering darkly as he rubbed the spot and glared at the Daily Prophet owl that was rapidly flying away from him. It always did that.

Wayne unfurled the paper, and glanced halfheartedly at the cover. It was the usual. Some muggle spotted Sirius Black- supposedly-, a random wizarding celebrity was caught somewhere they were supposed to be, like always. There was never anything new, really. He quickly grew tired as his eyes scanned the page.

'Dear Merlin'?

It seemed like the new advice column was starting up that they advertised a few weeks back. At least, that's what it sounded like. But Merlin? Dear Merlin? What a funny thing to call it. He had nothing else to do at that moment though, it could distract him from the looming threat that was Potions class.

Wayne flipped to the fifth page of the Daily Prophet, and quickly found the article.

Greetings Citizen of Wizarding Britain!

(Or maybe you're a family member who's nonmagical and receives the paper and is reading this now. Or perhaps you're just a random German man who picked this up and is reading this confusedly- I must change my greeting then.)

Hello! My name is Merlin. I am a wizard. You've probably heard of me. I'm not as well known as Gandalf or Dumbledore, but I'm pretty high up there. You may know me from helping the mysterious King Arthur and his Round Table- or perhaps because I am the resident late night singer of the Three Broomsticks. I'm just kidding. That's my friend Godric Gryffindor. He's secretly the Giant Squid, you see.

As you may know, I'm fairly famous for solving peoples' problems. After a few millennia of half-hearted attempts of retirement, I decided I was sick of doing nothing and asked the Daily Prophet if I might make a column to solve peoples' problems.

And here I am, speaking to you lovely folks. Send me your problems- serious or stupid, full of blame to the rich Minister or poor folks who follow the mass, how much you hate Great Aunt Lucinda for constantly pinching your cheeks and how much you desire to make her stop, or anything else that's petty or important- and I will answer as truthfully and helpfully as I can.

Still hesitating? You will be kept anonymous so no one will ever know it's you. I wont even know who you are.

Have a wonderful day, and if not, tell me why it wasn't!

Farewell,

Merlin

Wayne raised an eyebrow. Merlin eh? He'd have to remember that that's what they were calling it.

But then Wayne noticed that people were filing out of the Great Hall- even the Gryffindors, and glanced at the clock.

Shoot! He had only ten minutes to get to the dungeon!

Stupid! Stupid!

The next morning found itself in a similar situation, with a dead tired Hufflepuff staring into his porridge like it had the answer to life. The loud ringing chime was heard, and birds of all shapes and colours flew in and circled above the students' heads.

Wayne barely stopped himself from falling face first into his porridge when the all too familiar whack! of the newspaper fell on his head.

"Blasted bird..."

He unrolled the newspaper and glanced at the headlines. Same as yesterdays. Joy.

Without much thought, he glanced down at the listings of articles and his eyes landed on one particular one. Dear Merlin.

So someone got enough replies to write back the next day?

He opened the paper with slow movements and starred down at the printed words.

Hello! Thank you for sending in your problems (and your questions)! I'll get right down to business to solve them.

Here is the first one:

Dear Merlin,

For some reason, all these people seem to be coming after me. I don't know why half of them are, as I consider myself a nice bloke. Also, I'm being followed by a serial killer who really wants to sever my head from my shoulders. Help?

From,

Bespectacled Trouble Magnet

.

Dear Bespectacled Trouble Magnet,

You, my friend, are in a pickle.

Maybe you should stop angering these people who would like to kill you?

Perhaps you should offer them a peace treaty?

How about you invite them all around for tea and sandwiches? That always made my enemies more comfortable around me that I actually became really good friends with a bunch of them. Ah. Good times.

I would suggest the first thing you do is find Nicholas Flamel and get the stone so you can live forever without worrying about yourself dying when you confront them. Secondly- confront them. Now, you're either going to piss them off or make them laugh at your attempt. Aim for the second option. Once you find yourself in an unlikely companionship with these people, you will rise in their ranks and become their right hand man. You can either aim to kill them or convert them to the light side after a few years. Or if they are the light side, then convert them to the dark side. Either one is fine.

It's fairly simple. Any good spy movie can assure you of this. Most of the time you can't even tell that the bad guys are bad guys when they are all hidden! Amazing, isn't it?

Good luck Bond!

Farewell,

Merlin

Wayne couldn't help but snort into his cup of tea. That was hilarious! He had a good guess about who would be receiving the advice.

But then stomping footsteps alerted him of the time, and for the second day in a row Wayne Hopkins found himself running out of the Great Hall, cursing and shoving the newspaper into his over-stocked book bag.

Darn it!

"Hey, have you heard about that new advice column?"

"Yeah, 'Dear Merlin'?"

"Isn't it hilarious?"

"I know right! I love it. Merlin is so funny, not to mention he has a knowledge of Muggle movies!"

"Oh, stop it girl. Merlin is probably like twenty or something. He's obviously out of Hogwarts."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because he just sounds mature, I don't know."

"I don't think he is. I think he's still at Hogwarts."

"Whatever you say, Maggie."

Behind a library shelf, a figure stood silently and listened to the girls' exchange. He grinned.

Welcome back to dear Merlin! Here we have our second issue of problems which I have solved below.

Dear Merlin,

I kinda like this girl, but she doesn't know that I exist. Actually, I'm friends with someone who teases her often and I can't tell my friend to stop teasing her because he's threatened me before. What should I do?

From,

A Lovesick Fool

.

Dear A Lovesick Fool,

Sounds like you really like this lass, eh?

Well, first thing I thought was for you to gather your courage and talk to the girl, but with your acid friend we have to modify that rather simple plan.

If you like this girl, then if you share any classes with her you should try to sit next to her or talk to her after class. Maybe ask her to tutor you. Never ask her if she'd like to be tutored by you, more often then not you'll be slapped. Arthur learned the hard way with Guinevere.

Anywho, ask her if she can tutor you or something similar or even ask her to go to Hogsmeade with you (say something like 'it's for a class I have to walk with a muggleborn once a day' ((but not that, it sounds extremely idiotic when you put it like that))) and just gradually talk to her a lot and before you know it you'll be a proud parent with twenty kids all rushing off to Hogwarts and you'll have her as a wife.

I never thought I'd see the day where I gave out love advice.

Good luck my lovesick fool!

Farewell,

Merlin

"Oh. My. God."

"I know!"

"Are you serious!?"

"Completely!"

"What? What are you guys talking about?"

"Blaise Zabini is taking Hermione Granger to Hogsmeade!"

"Ohmygosh are you serious?"

"Uh-huh!"

"It seems like Blaise took Merlin's advice!"

Wayne smiled as he walked passed a flustered Hermione Granger and a beaming Blaise Zabini.

He never thought that his advice would work out so well, but he wasn't complaining.

"Oh my god here's the new article for 'Dear Merlin!'"

Advice column Merlin. Come on. With his history of solving Arthur's problems I think he'd be fairly good at it.

This is for the Quidditch League Competition- Semi Finals Puddlemere- using the prompts 'Minor character' (Merlin, Wayne Hopkins) having a secret, Three Broomsticks, Rich, Blame.

I don't own Harry Potter.