Upon the east wall of the western corridor of the school of Hogwarts, three floors up one shifty set of staircases and just past what was once a charms classroom, presently unoccupied, a smiling young man gazed out of a four-by-three-foot block of oil on canvas. An unassuming figure against an unassuming backdrop all housed within a simple wooden frame with a small brass plaque to the bottom which read;

'Unidentified Servant'

A keen observer might note the sharp knowing glint to the servant boy's eyes. The amused smile which rested comfortably on his lips. The confident stance by which he held himself tall, unusual for one of his low status.

A curious witch or wizard, upon realising that the painting was produced and thus named many years before magical treatment allowed it to become animated, might think to stop and at last ask the young man his name, so that he may no longer be 'Unidentified'

Unfortunately, although keen observers and curious witches and wizards were in abundance, here in this place of learning, their attention was confined to far more valuable points of concern than a young man in an old paining.

Alas, even if the allure of art were to catch their eye, so many grand portraits littered these great walls, thousands upon thousands of frames pressed side to side along every hallway, stairway and gallery that such a relatively small and plain canvas was easy to miss, as innocuous and unremarkable as it was.

Still there it hung, day after day and year after year. There it remained undisturbed and all but unnoticed.

Day after day, the young man watched in interest as the youth of the magical world made their way from class to class, enjoying a freedom and education he had only ever dreamed of in life. Day after day he smiled at those who smiled at him, conversed with other paintings and roamed about the castle taking in the wonders of this magical place so very different from another castle his true self had inhabited long ago.

Upon the east wall of the western corridor of the school of Hogwarts, three floors up and just past what once was charms, a young man with dark hair and eyes that seemed to shine in a way that even in the magical realm should not have been possible to capture with simple paints, yet somehow had been, gazed out at the world and smiled a knowing smile, content to remain 'Unidentified' another day.

….

"It's such a terrible shame" A prominent politician once lamented "That of all the great sorcerers of our world, the legendary Merlin himself, inarguably the greatest and most celebrated of all, was never immortalised in paint. That no one ever took the time to capture his greatness for future generations to look upon. No doubt if such a painting had been produced it might have sat today above the desk of our very own Minister for Magic, imparting to us still, all manner of wise words to guide us through these troubled times. Alas, it is such a shame. Such a shame."