This is my first fanfiction, so please keep an open-mind and kindness in your hearts! This is a Harry Potter and Merlin crossover, and it's set just after the season 4 finale, and at the very beginning of the seventh Harry Potter book, when they have all just arrived at The Burrow. However, lots will change. Also, I always pictured Arthur being older than Merlin by a few years, so in this Arthur is about 20, and Merlin is 17! They always looked so young in the show, and people grew up quicker in the medieval ages, this is the age I would've set them around. Also, I would like them to be around this for my story, suits me better!

Without further ado, Allon-sy!

Merlin POV:

The wind was soft, gently tugging at the ends of the red capes. They fluttered in unison, as the men faced off with the covered faces of the Saxon hoard. At the front of the Knights of Camelot stood King Arthur Pendragon, his face hard and determined, yet a weariness glinted in his eyes as he gazed at a women clad in a flowing black gown.

Morgana's face was twisted, a sneer etched upon her once kind features. Pale green eyes roved madly around at the Knights in turn, but consistently flickered back to Arthur, and the pale man at his side. Tall and gangly, with sharp cheekbones, raven hair which covered large ears, and deep, gold- flecked sparkling blue eyes. His fists were clenched out his sides. Merlin felt as torn as he always did looking at Morgana. He felt responsible for what she had become, and the same time he hated what she had made of her gifts. The old magic that was part of his soul hummed to him, alerting him that there was something different about this battle.

"Aren't you tired of these games, Morgana?" Arthur called out, unsheathing Excalibur slowly, his knights mimicking the motion.

"On the contrary, Arthur, the longer we play, the more elaborate the games!" her voice echoed seductively, as she clapped her hands together harshly, behind them, Elyan flinched. "The only difference is, I am done playing. It is time for me to take my rightful place as Queen as Camelot. I think these last three months of your reign have proved you are truly Uthers son."

Arthur did not respond, tightening his grip on Excalibur and raising it in front him before thrusting into the air. The tension in the air was tangible, and the battalion behind Arthur bent their legs, preparing for the onslaught. The metallic taste of anticipation and fear was in everyone's mouths.

"FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!" He called, and the knights charged forward, meeting the Saxons head on in the middle of the open field. Morgana had disappeared, transported to the edge of battle where she watched with narrowed eyes. From the folds of her cloak, she withdrew a handful of strange glittering powder, which she brought to her lips and whispered, "Chaock miali tofryemlyso caine." The powder glowed a bright white, but was unnoticed by all but one.

Merlin had quickly retreated to higher ground, crouching behind a tree uncaring of his appearance of a coward. He had to be focused, and his own personal safety couldn't distract them. Muttering under his breath he blew countless enemies back from the knights. Redirecting arrows and thrusting ownerless swords through the shins of the Saxon army. Unfortunately he was unable to perform bigger spells, though his meetings with the Druids had definitely increased his skill. Despite the level battle, the magic of the old religion fluttered in his chest, a nervous warning that something bigger was about to happen.

The feeling had begun 2 months ago, just after the crowning of Arthur as King of Camelot. Morgana hadn't been sighted for a while, and Arthur had become engaged to Gwen, and was falling into the routine of King. Gwaine had gone out on a scouting trip, and returned haggard and still, miraculously with a hangover procured from some tavern he had spent the night in. He had announced that a Saxon army had been steadily marching across the chaos filled lands of the late King Cenred, led by Morgana. Grim faced, Arthur had quickly set to establishing a fully-fledged army of knights. Training had been intense for all the Knights, and duties had been tripled for all those under the castle service. Merlin had gotten the worst of it though.

On top of all his usual ridiculous amount of chores, he had also set to increasing his magical knowledge, and had managed to sneak out of the castle 3 times a week (the guards still totally oblivious and idiotic) to have lessons with Isilder and Alator. Wards had been woven into the castle walls, and Merlin had taken it on himself to enchant all the armor with basic repellents of simple spells. Needless to say, he had been at the end of his rope for a good month and a half.

The worst had been when Arthur decided to rush the weeding to Gwen along, for fear that if something would happen to him in battle, Camelot would have a ruler that was not Morgana Le Fay. Or course Merlin had endured every aspect of Arthur's angst, patiently at first, but after a while he had given up and drugged him the night before his weeding with a sleeping draught in the wine. That had resulted in much yelling and goblet throwing the next morning, and a half- apology in the evening after Gwen had spotted the bruises adorning Merlin's arm, and given her new husband a sharp reprimand.

The only other bright spot had occurred about 3 weeks ago, when returning from a particularly straining battle session, (Merlin had fought Alator, Isilder, and 5 other druids) he had run into Gwaine.

"Long night?" A voice called out jovially as Merlin rubbed his tired eyes. Starting, he whipped around and tripped over his feet staggering ungracefully. A snort was the response to his antics, and Gwaine smiled cheekily, flipping his dark hair over his shoulder as he stepped from the shadows. Despite his easygoing exterior, Gwaines eyes were filled with an unusual amount of focus and concern, with a knowing glint that Merlin didn't quite like.

"What are you talking about?" Merlin responded with a question, his voice steady.

"I don't know. You see, the strangest thing happened to me today. I actually decided to not go to the tavern, and instead follow you on one of your unstealthy escapades. Imagine my surprise when I saw you meet with 2 druids, and then promptly disappear!" Sarcasm was thick within his tone. Merlin shifted, his eyes fixed on Gwaines chin. "I mean," he continued, after Merlin's silence "I had hoped that if a certain magical servant was trying to find some way of helping, he would have at least shared it with his best friend."

Gasping, Merlin stared into Gwaines eyes, "You know?" he whispered.

Laughing kindly, Gwaine started forward and laid his hand on Merlins shoulder. "Mate, flying plates, the whole fiasco with the Fisher King and needing 'Courage, strength, and magic,' not to mention falling tree branches and mysterious fires in slavers castles… I am not as unobservant as some believe."

"So you knew, you knew this whole time! You could have mentioned something sooner, I would've been grateful for the help."

A strange expression passed Gwaines face, "I wanted you to tell me. It was your secret, and I thought that you would eventually trust me enough with your secret." He said quietly. Merlin looked sad, and he scuffed the stones with his boots.

"Im sorry Gwaine, I've never told anyone before. They've always found out by accident. I ca- I couldn- I don't know how to tell someone."

Loud chuckles filled the air, and Gwaine marched Merlin towards the glowing citadel of Camelot. "It doesn't matter now! I know, you know I know, we're all good. This warrants a tavern celebration! I am going to see you drunk before I die!"

"You aren't mad at me?" Merlin whispered "You aren't scared?" Gwaine rolled his eyes, and tapped his hand against the hilt of sword.

"Magic is like this sword here, it just is, neither good nor evil, but channeled by the wielder. When I met you I was weary, but I got to now you Merlin. Magic isn't your defining trait of your personality; it's like having another limb. I just needed to see what you were going to do with it. I joined the knights because I believe Arthur is a good man, and he needed more people to tell him the truth when it was staring him in the face. However, I also joined because I know how much you care about Arthur, and how much you watch out for him. It made me realize that no one looks out for you. Forgetting all your power mate, you still are hopeless with a sword."

A goofy grin had been spreading across Merlin's face as he talked, so wide it looked like it would break him. His deep eyes were shimmering with unshed gratitude.

"Can you show me?" the question threw Merlin off of his high cloud, and he looked at Gwaine with wide eyes.

"Show you my magic?" He clarified, startled.

"Yes Merlin, let's see some of this mystical action in play!"

Brining his hand up to his mouth, he whispered, "Forbernan." A small flame grew in his open palm, and with warm gold eyes, he made it into shapes of knights, dragons, and a pheasant.

Shaking his head of the memories, he allowed himself a slight grin as he tripped up 3 men running for Gwaine. The tension of the battle was building, and adrenaline thrummed through his magic igniting small sparks on his fingertips. It was in these moments that he felt the freest, being able to allow him magic to react on its instinctive nature, feeling the threads that connected everyone and everything. He could count the glowing strands that waved in the air, truly making the world turn.

These thoughts ran through his mind fast, and he felt a dark presence lash out at his mind, causing him to fall back with a cry of pain. Dark clouds were gathering quickly in the sky, shadows falling over the men, and despite the shrieks of the injured, a deadly silence enveloped the knights.

Merlin stood, his magic literally dragging him off the ground, swirling beneath his skin in an agitated state. He needed to get to Arthur, now.

Running, he dived into the battle, muttering spells under his breath as Saxons turned his way with their swords. Most ignored the willowy boy, deeming him insignificant. He knew it, the bloody prat would be in the center of the battle, determined to be in the least accessible area possible. Merlin used some of Elyans swear words, and emerged panting just behind Arthur.

It was as though he had entered the eye of the hurricane. Men battled all around, but it was as though they moved in slow motion, and none turned to face the 3 in the center. Arthur's shoulders were rigid, his soft blue eyes connected with Morganas pale green ones.

She stood across from him, her left hand clenched in a fist, the right one perched neatly on a hip. Her disdainful sneer curled her lips.

"What are you doing, Morgana?" Arthur called, his voice strained. It was then that Merlin realized that there was a clear sheen around their little circle. A barrier keeping back the tide of the battle, deterring anyone from intruding on his private scene, though his magic, Merlin gathered, had allowed him to pass unscathed and undetected on the edge.

"No distractions, dear brother. How easily you fall into my traps and this one, I can assure you, you won't be climbing out of." She raised her left hand slowly, uncurling her fingers to reveal glowing grains of sand. They seemed to move across her palm, tugging at each other to go left or right. Merlin was drawn to them, the magic and power in those grains was clear. This was old magic mixed with new, but the prevision of Morgana tainted the sight.

Arthur laughed, though it was humourless, and Excalibur was raised in front of him. "Are you going to blow sand at me? I would've thought it would be something a little flashier, a litter more bloody. Running out of sisters to sacrifice for your schemes?"

A scream of rage issues from Morganas lips, blasting Merlin and Arthur off their feet, and flattening the army that raged about them. Merlin's ears were ringing, and he staggered to feet just behind Arthur, who also clambered up.

Morgana was stalking toward Arthur, closing in on him and muttering a complex spell under her breath. The old religion was screaming at Merlin, and the sand rose up creating a small whirlwind as Morganas eyes glowed. Merlin knew that it couldn't be allowed to touch Arthur, and he propelled himself forward, trying to close the gap and knock Arthur out of the way.

"Kill him!" Morgana screamed, breaking off momentarily from her spell as her eyes alighted on Merlin's advancing figure. He didn't notice as a Saxon took up a fallen crossbow, and aimed it at him. He didn't feel the arrow embedded itself him his stomach. He didn't see Arthur try to turn to him to help him; all he saw was the glittering sand that was now flying towards Arthur as Morgana raised her hand at him. There was no time to knock Arthur down so Merlin did the only thing he could, he threw himself in front of Arthur and the sand ripped through him, literally racing through him as it gathered his spirit, and tore it away from his world.

The last thing he saw was Arthur screaming his name.

Merlin felt trapped, his soul tried to get loose from his body but couldn't. Dark images trickled blurrily by him, a future that should have been but wasn't.

Arthur winning the battle.

Returning to Gwen and sealing the victory with a kiss.

Merlin saving their lives from Morgana, his eyes fading from gold to blue as Arthur looked on in shock.

Morgana falling.

Morgana's death.

Arthur yelling at Merlin.

Arthur with tears down his face.

Arthur talking with Gwen.

Arthur talking with Gaius.

Merlin staring out of the window, his pack stuffed with clothing.

Arthur barging in.

Merlin becoming the official court sorcerer.

Gwen having twins.

Arthur, Gwen and Merlin growing old.

Merlin at Lake Avalon, sharing a chaste kiss with Freya.

Time passing, knights sharing memories, children running.

Arthur calling Merlin and idiot.

Merlin calling Arthur a prat.

A vengeful Mordred marching on Camelot.

The final battle approaching a wearied Arthur and Merlin.

Arthur kissing Gwen goodbye.

A young man who had Arthurs blue eyes and Gwen's curly locks at his father's side.

Merlin blasting back enemies.

Arthur turning to slow.

Arthur falling to Mordred's blade.

Merlin killing Mordred.

Time passing as Camelot moved on.

Merlin lying in the crystal cave, old and wrinkled.

Merlin's magic sinking back into the balance of the earth, releasing the title of 'Emrys.'

Merlin approaching Lake Avalon.

Arthur, Gwen, Freya, Gwaine, Lancelot, Percival, Elyan, Leon, Gaius, Hunith, Balinor, all waiting for him.

The images didn't have time to form, and instead were being shredded by the grains of sand. Time was being rewritten; the future that the old religion had coveted was being undone. Merlin felt himself slipping away, his soul being stripped of its purpose, his body weak and injured. The separation of the two parts began to strain, the darkness was rushing in from all sides, and the promising future of destiny was corrupted. His magic flared against the foreign power, suppressing it from completely crushing everything Merlin was.

He felt his magic gather him in a small cocoon, shielding him from the destructive purpose of Morganas curse. Feelers were sent out amongst the dark, searching for any light until it found a small hole. Grasping onto it, it tugged on that bright spot, enlarging it until it was the size of a small door.

The nothingness disappeared as Merlin fell through it, and all sense returned as his back smacked hard against a grassy surface. With the return of his body, the pain in his stomach reached a new height, and a warm wetness dripped down his side into the dirt. A blinding white light flared around him, sinking into his very skin, visible even through Merlin's closed eyelids.

Merlin gasped in the cool air, his eyes fluttering open as his chest rapidly tried to steady its breathing. Noise was coming back to him now, and from it he could hear footsteps, the tone of voices raised in a questioning panic, and finally screams.

The ground vibrated at someone feel to their knees beside him, and he moaned in pain as shaking hands were thrust against the wound in his side.

"It's okay, stay with me, come on, open your eyes!" A voice commanded with panic, and Merlin's cerulean eyes tethered to a girl with curly hair that rivaled Gwen's. "Help! Over here!" She screamed, and more footsteps became a stampede as a group of people all rushed towards Merlin and mystery girl.

"How did he get in?"

"Who is he?"

"What in the name of Merlin's beard is going on?!"

That caught Merlin's attention, and he visible twitched when his name was used. Several people with bright red hair surrounded him, and a boy about his age with jet black hair.

"Hermione, what happened?" The dark- haired boy asked the one who was stemming Merlin's wound.

"I don't know! I was looking for Crookshanks and he just appeared in this light!" Hermione answered. "He's injured; we need to get him inside."

Several of the older people in the group took on a look of resolution, and moved Hermione gently out of the way before hoisting Merlin up between them. The pain finally spike past what Merlin could bear, and the wave of blackness finally swallowed him.

I will try to update every week, and reviews, ideas, generally expression of amazement (joking!) is much appreciated. The more comments I receive the greater the spur to write. Also, you people should really check out "Ancient Relics" by TeenMuggle! Its fantastic!