I own neither Merlin nor Harry Potter.

I just thought that if Harry Potter, Charmed, and the Worst Witch were in the same continuity as Merlin, then why wouldn't Merlin intervene against Voldemort, but not against the Death Eaters. Hope you enjoy my take.

Please feel free to leave feedback.

The Temptation to Take Action.

As he read the newspaper with the photograph showing the black and white picture of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth, Merlin was really tempted to stop this from going too far.

The newspaper article was screaming about the violent and sudden attack on a nightclub in London, how a group of masked men wearing black robes reminiscent of the Ku Klux Klan from America (yet another thing he couldn't understand, why people would wear masks and hoods and lynch as many people of a different colour and get away with it because their own skin was white; Merlin had grown up in the middle ages, but he had seen enough barbarism over the centuries to know it made little difference what someone looked like), attacking the club though details were vague and spotty since no-one knew how the attackers had appeared, nor did anyone know what kind of weapons the attackers used.

Idiots. Go on like this, and the magical world will be discovered, Merlin thought to himself angrily, wondering just what the ICW was thinking; they were supposed to stop things like this from happening. He had little doubt in his mind if Voldemort and his forces pushed too far and too hard into the non-magical world, the ICW would come down hard on Voldemort and his sick followers once and for all. But the most annoying thing about the ICW, as far as Merlin could see, as they didn't seem willing to get involved.

Dumbledore's attitude was the worst aspect. The wizard who was believed to be the greatest sorcerer in the world, though Merlin had to stifle down his amusement at the title. While Dumbledore's achievements in the past were impressive in themselves, the wizard seemed to believe in his own legend a bit too much for Merlin's liking.

Merlin just could not understand why Dumbledore was not asking for help from the ICW, who would be able to supply much-needed manpower and mitigate the effects of the war so then the so-called 'muggles' would sooner or later discover what was really going on, and Merlin was dreading that happening; didn't that mess in America not teach these idiots anything? While Merlin had issues with the way the MACUSA had handled that mess where someone made the mistake of revealing magic and it had led to a massive breach in the Statute of Secrecy that even now the MACUSA was trying to clear up because they had no idea how many non-magical people knew about magic.

While the Rappaport laws were harsh, Merlin had learnt over the years after seeing how magic had evolved over the centuries since the fall of Camelot that perhaps the magical communities he'd encountered over the years had learnt from the mistakes of the Old Religion.

The thing he had seen... it had all made him feel that the new communities had the right idea, and simply hide their existence from the non-magical world. The Salem Witch trials had been one of the worst things he knew of, but there had been other instances that killed his dream of both worlds been united as one. And while Voldemort was not making the same mistakes Nimueh and Morgana had made at their peaks, he was making new ones. And Dumbledore and the British Ministry of Magic were not helping.

But fortunately, the ICW had the means and the authority to go over Dumbledore's head. He just hoped it happened soon. Merlin may not have actually seen the Great Purge Uther had enacted centuries ago, but the effects reverberated and echoed throughout the land for years afterwards as more and more sorcerers were discovered either by accident or because they had underestimated Uther's drive to commit genocide.

Merlin had lived in fear for years with the lessons of his mother telling him to keep his magic a secret even though he had played childish and really stupid pranks with his powers still ringing in his ears (he closed his eyes and tried to fight down the sorrow he felt whenever he thought of his mother; he had never forgotten her, but since so many centuries had passed, Merlin had found it increasingly hard to remember some of his mother's traits, much to his horror), which had stopped after that mess with the Witchfinder.

But the lesson he had learnt then had remained with him always, and he did not want a repeat of them now in this day and age where non-magical people had changed.

The old days where all non-magical people (he refused to say the word 'muggle' since there was something about that term he did not like any more than half of the slang they used) had to do to fight magic with pitchforks and torches, burning witches and wizards at stakes out of fear were long gone.

It would only take one of their nuclear bombs, and it would wipe out a large chunk of the magical community. All that was needed was just one spark, and if that happened the ICW could kiss goodbye to their precious statute, and once it happened the other countries around the world would begin looking for magical activity, and they would destroy it without mercy.

And Voldemort was looking more and more likely to be that spark, the moron.

With each day that passed and more and more people who died, Merlin became more and more determined to step in and deal with Voldemort himself, may the Old Religion be damned. He was starting to not care, and at this point, he didn't care what the consequences would be, although the potential consequences of him revealing magic was one reason why he had not done anything just yet.

If there was one thing Merlin hated the most these days were just how strict the rules of the Old Religion were when it came to interference.

Throwing the newspaper aside in frustration, a sentence jumping out at him almost accusingly because he was allowing it to happen, that in that nightclub a number of girls, some of them as young as fourteen years old with their whole lives ahead of them, had gone missing.

Merlin didn't hold out much hope for those girls. He knew how sick and deprived the Death Eaters were; they might talk and act like aristocrats, but they were animals who believed everything should be handed over to them on a platter simply because of who and what they were.

It brought back bad memories, not just of his time in Camelot where the nobles lived in palatial rooms while peasants would be lucky to have privacy for one day, but it was something that had never changed over the years.

Merlin walked to stare out of his window overlooking his garden, wondering just why the Old Religion was stopping him from taking direct action against Lord Voldemort; oh, he had no problem dealing with the so-called Death Eaters, their knowledge of magic may be good for their community's standards, but against him who was centuries older and more powerful, it wouldn't be much of a fight.

But Voldemort….Merlin knew Voldemort had done something to himself, and strangely enough, he had felt it before several times over the centuries. Something which made the Old Religion cry out in outrage, and something Merlin himself had needed to clear up several times.

Horcruxes.

Voldemort had torn his soul apart to make himself immortal, but Merlin was amazed the Old Religion was stopping him from going after the so-called Dark Lord (the imagination of this wand-using community never failed to amaze him) after it had made him drop everything and seek the Horcruxes of other people who sought to make themselves immortal, and he had despatched them happily once he had learnt just how the Horcrux ritual worked.

Saying a Horcrux or any other soul piece was difficult was an understatement, but the creation of one caused magic, particularly the Old Religion which gave Merlin his power, to scream in fury and pain. The agony also physically impacted Merlin as well thanks to his connection to it, which had been augmented after that mess where Morgana had learnt from Mordred who Emrys really was and removed his powers, forcing him to go to the Crystal Cave. The Crystals had given him his powers back but it had also strengthened his connection to the Old Religion in ways Merlin still did not understand, but in this world where the Old Religion had fractured so different forms of magic now existed, and new communities had grown from it over the centuries as a result, it had given Merlin a greater insight into the depths of magic an ordinary sorcerer who'd wielded the Old Religion might not have discovered.

Nimueh, Cornelius Sigan, and Morgana and the Fisher King might come close, but he had never known for sure if they had discovered that depth to the Old Religion, so he couldn't say for definite if he were unique or not. But the fact remained he knew the Old Religion had given him the task of destroying as many Horcruxes as possible, but why was Voldemort allowed to live?

Merlin knew the Old Religion did not want the Dark Lord to exist, he could feel it, and yet it was stopping him from going after Voldemort and putting a stop to what he was doing, and draining the Horcruxes. Still, he could feel that the Old Religion itself was tempted for him to go out and do it, but it always held back, which meant something much bigger awaited Voldemort's future, something even the Old Religion could not interfere in.

Merlin turned his head and took in the black, white, and grey picture of Voldemort's symbol in the night sky, and he realised something big; he might not be allowed to face Voldemort, but his followers were something completely different.

Merlin was standing in a dark corner of a side street, watching a small house which looked identical to the houses around, but he knew there was someone in that house who was deeply special. Merlin had no idea how muggle-borns came about, but he guessed they were, more or less, the equivalent of warlocks like himself and his long gone friend Gili, but he had heard theories that they were from magical lines which had somehow lost their magic, forcing them to live in the non-magical world where their ancestors would marry and have children. Just the implications alone were enough to make Merlin feel sick.

Merlin pushed those thoughts aside - if the wand-using community wanted to wipe itself out because of its weird and worrying philosophies of blood purity and sense of entitlement then he wouldn't stop it; there were other magical communities out there who had a few realistic members in them, but while he knew he could interfere and make changes, Merlin had long since stopped bothering since they had never listened to him in the past - and he focused on this moment.

Once more he was thankful he had access to the Crystal of Neahtid after rescuing it, among all the other artefacts locked up in Camelot's vaults, but he was even more thankful he had discovered how to use the Crystal, otherwise without it he would never have prepared for this night where he would do his best to stop the Death Eaters. It had taken him a while, but he had managed to find this street and knew it was the right one, but what Merlin could not understand was how the Death Eaters had discovered the muggle-born targets, and he suspected someone in the Ministry was responsible, but this was one muggle-born who would not be harmed. From what Merlin had discovered, the boy inside this house didn't even know about magic yet, but that only made things worse.

Thanks to the Crystal, he had appeared on the street half an hour ago, and he had immediately cast a strong leaping spell which he would remove as soon as it was time for him to leave.

A number of pops snapped him out of his thoughts, and he spotted a small group of Death Eaters appear in the street dressed in their black robes, their wands ready.

Merlin stepped forwards, telekinetically throwing the surprised Death Eaters off of their feet. The ancient warlock watched as the Death Eaters went sprawling everywhere because of the blast, but one of them stood up quickly, his mask falling off of his face revealing a pale, pointed face with strands of shoulder-length greying blonde hair. Merlin studied the Death Eater closely, recognising him immediately; just because he was not a part of the magical communities did not mean he was not unaware of those who were important in the magical communities or believed they were important, so Merlin had no problem recognising the Death Eater as Abraxus Malfoy.

The wizard stumbled as he got to his feet, showing a man who was really not used to falling to the ground.

"Who are you?"

"The man who decided to stop you tonight," Merlin said shortly.

"You dare defy the Dark Lord, blood traitor?" Another Death Eater spat, but before Merlin could reply to the ridiculous question with the kind of scathing retort it truly deserved, one of the other Death Eaters jabbed their wand in his direction - Merlin honestly wished he knew how to tell which gender the Death Eaters were aside from simply removing their masks or hearing their voices - and yelled, "Avada Kedavra!"

The green killing curse burst out of the Death Eaters wand.

Merlin lifted his hand, non-verbally casting the strongest shield spell he knew in his considerable repertoire.

The Killing curse impacted the shield spell and left Merlin unharmed, shocking the Death Eaters to the core as they realised, at last, they were in the presence of someone far more powerful than themselves.

"How did you do that?" Malfoy whispered in disbelief, unknowingly taking a step back.

Merlin lowered his hand and glared at the Death Eaters with contempt. "Easy. I am the most powerful magical user on this planet that you are ever likely to encounter in your lives. I am Merlin."

Several of the Death Eaters scoffed with disbelief, but not all of them did. Malfoy looked at him with open-mouthed shock, but there was no disbelief there since he had managed to block off the Killing curse which could not be stopped by a regular shield spell.

"After everything you did for Camelot, for our world, you are willing to protect Mudbloods?" Malfoy gaped at him in surprise. "They are destroying our world-!"

"How, by coming to your community and trying to live their lives?" Merlin countered, not reacting to the typical blood purity nonsense he had listened to so many times over the centuries when he had been there at Hogwarts when the Founder's had fallen. "I don't approve of what your Ministry has done to the muggle-borns over the years, though generally many of them are allowed to live and find work to put their talents to good use."

"The Dark Lord's mission states-!" Malfoy began.

"Oh please, spare me the sermon. You are not going to persuade me, so don't even try. Do you really think I haven't heard this stuff before now?" Merlin interrupted, glaring at the Death Eaters with resolute contempt. "I've seen and listened to Dark Lords coming and going so many times over the centuries saying the same things time and again that it's simply become easier for me not to bother listening to you. I've heard so many people preaching for a cause that calls for the murder of hundreds of innocents for centuries, so I doubt your precious Dark Lord can come up with a better argument, and truthfully I don't care."

Merlin lifted his hand and flicked his fingers, and the Death Eaters didn't even have enough time to cry out before their necks twisted. Now left with the corpses of the Death Eaters lying on the ground late at night, Merlin sighed in frustration. He may not like killing people, but he had learnt over the years sometimes it was necessary, and this was one of those times.

Flicking his hand at the Death Eaters, Merlin mentally summoned a teleportation spell and sent the Death Eaters to Hogsmeade village where they would be found. It was unceremonious and he honestly had no idea what was going to happen to the bodies and even if the Ministry would try to find out what had happened, and truthfully he didn't care.

When they were gone, Merlin flicked his hands around the street to break the sleeping spell he had cast on them before he left himself.

What do you think?