A/N: Okay, so this is something new for me. This is the first time I'm making a real crossover fic, so I'm a bit nervous about it :S

I've made single Harry Potter fics and single Merlin fic, however this is the first time I'm combining two of my favourites. I came across some videos that combined the two fandoms and got inspired.

I'm still working on my Merlin fiction, so no worries there ;)

Disclaimer and warnings:

I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter, only the plot.

Also, this story will EVENTUALLY have Drarry and Merthur, just so you know ;)

Now, without further ado, here's Children of Albion

Chapter One

Draco Malfoy took off his jacket, hang it on the hook and kicked off his shoes.

"Hey, old man!" He called and stepped into the living room of the small house. Looking around he crooked a smile, finding the bearded man slumped in the worn-out chair, sleeping soundly. The 16-year-old boy carefully stepped up to the chair, a smug smile on his lips, as he reached out his hand. The words were ready on his mouth, hand raised and at ready, however before the words could be spoken, Malfoy was thrown back and froze in mid-air, just before he hit a bookshelf.

A delighted chuckled erupted from the chair, as the old man stood up and looked at Malfoy with gentle amusement.

"You're still a thousand years too early to try and pull something on me, young Draco." He said between the chuckles. Blue eyes glowed golden and Malfoy slowly dropped to the ground.

"You could have let me have this one." He said standing up, dusting off his clothes and gave the old man a pout.

"Why ever would I do that?" The old man replied with a smirk and gave Malfoy a look. Letting out a loud moan, he stretched out his old body and proceeded to head for the kitchen, signaling Malfoy to follow him.

"What brings you here?" He asked, as he made ready for tea. Malfoy gave a small shrug and dropped down in one the chairs by the kitchen table.

He looked around the kitchen.

Malfoy knew the old man and the house well, having come here on a regular basis since he was a kid. Whenever he had felt the pressure from his parents and especially his father, becoming too much, Malfoy had visited the old neighbor.

His parents along with the rest of the magical neighborhood, saw the man as a harmless old coot, but Malfoy knew the man to be more powerful than anyone else he knew of. He might be on level with Dumbledore and Voldemort, if not stronger. However, he was not one to join a fight and preferred to keep to himself.

Malfoy didn't know how old the white bearded man was. Sometimes, when Malfoy met his eyes, the man seemed almost… timeless. It was as if he was as old as magic itself. As if he had lived a thousand life times and seen nations rise and fall.

His eyes held this eternal sadness, as if he had forever lost a part of himself.

Malfoy swallowed hard and looked down at his hands.

He remembered having asked the man about it, one time when he was younger, to which the old man had answered, that he hoped Malfoy would never understand the reason behind his sadness first hand.

Never the less, despite all the mystery that surrounded the man, Malfoy enjoyed his company and it wasn't only because of the wandless magic, which he had taught him over the years. There was just something, both refreshing and calming, about the old man's demeanor and presence.

"It's ehm…" Malfoy began and bobbed his legs a little nervous. Biting his lips, Malfoy wondered if he should tell the old man about what was going on, in the wizarding world. He had, on several occasions, expressed his disinterest in what went on and had made a point in telling Malfoy that he really didn't want to get involved with anything outside the four walls of his own house. This indifference may be the reason for the other people in the neighborhood disregarding him as crazy.

"It's Voldemort." Malfoy breathed out, feeling the cold shiver, as he spoke the feared name.

…

He stopped for a moment and glanced back at the boy. He had lost count of how many times the young sorcerer had visited him. Despite the promise he had made to himself, centuries ago, about not letting himself getting involved with anyone, the blonde boy had somehow managed to break his resolve, when he had first turned up at his doorstep, 10 years ago. There had been something about the young boy's prattiness, which had reminded him of someone he once held very dear.

Through the boy, he had learned about the matters of the 20th century magic and its world. A hidden world, somewhat separated from those without magic. It wasn't the balanced peace between magic and non-magic, for which he had fought for, however this was better than those with magic being hunted down and killed.

It was… peaceful.

For most parts anyway.

Apparently, a sort of diversity had appeared, deeming those without magic or born by non-magical parents of less value, than those with. He had to laugh at this. People with magic had certainly managed to turn things around over time.

All this seemed to be enforced by this Voldemort character, whom the boy had mentioned a few times before. Apparently, he was a big deal in the modern magical world. He let out a sigh and walked to the boy, handing him a mug of hot tea, before sitting down across from him.

"What about him?" He asked, not really wanting to know, but feeling that this was something the boy needed to get off his chest.

Grey eyes met his blue, with a hint of surprise and hope.

"He's eh… he is back…" The boy stammered and clutched the mug, knuckles turning white, "and he has settled in my home. My parents they… they're bowing to his every word, as if he's this great messiah, when in reality everything he does is…" The boy stopped and shivered visibly, no doubt remembering something unpleasant, before he finished, "evil."

He hummed and took a sip of his coffee, contemplating on the boy's words. He had felt a stirring in the magic, in a way he hadn't for centuries. He'd had dreams, visions about familiar faces in new environments along with unfamiliar faces.

Something in the Old religion was moving, but could it really have something to do with what the boy was telling him? Could it be connected and if so, what was he supposed to do? He had spent centuries fleeing from the world, how was he supposed to get back into it?

"Old man?" The boy asked, giving him a questioning look. He cleared his throat and put down his mug.

"This man, you've mentioned that he has been at large before?" He asked curiously, "How did you deal with him before?"

The boy shook his head and a small, almost unnoticeable blush appeared in his pale cheeks. A blush which caught the old man's attention.

"There was this toddler… when Voldemort tried to kill him, the curse backfired on himself." He explained and looked away, "He's been gone for 14 years, but last year he returned, more powerful than before and now…" The boy looked up at him, "I can't believe you don't know about the boy-who-lived, it's like the most popular story ever."

The old man rose a brow.

"Really?" He asked and stood up, gathering the mugs, "More popular than the legend of Merlin?"

The boy blinked a few times, then laughed.

"Merlin? The legendary warlock, said to be the most powerful sorcerer to have lived? Said to be magic itself? Really?" He chuckled and shook his head, "Merlin is nothing but a fairy tale, whereas the boy-who-lived is actually real."

The old man huffed, feeling somewhat offended, turning away from the boy. Fairy tale? He had never…

"Oh really!?" He said, not entirely able to hide a snap, "If this boy is so great, then why don't he just rid you of the Voldemort character again?"

The boy gave the old man a look, confused by his sudden change of mood.

"I'm sure Harry won't nothing more than defeat him, but he's still only a teenager," The boy said, biting his lips again, "There's no way a heavy burden should be on someone as young as us." He said and looked up at the old man, "We're children, not soldiers."

He looked back at the boy, who suddenly looked much older than he was, a heavy burden weighing him down.

He was right.

This wasn't something which should befall someone so young. He, himself hadn't been much older than them, when he had taken part in his first war, however that had been another time, a time where one had been forced to grow up early. Times had changed and so had people. It was evident that modern kids wouldn't be ready for something like this at such an early age and they shouldn't.

"And besides there's her," The boy added, voice shaking, "At first she was just a dream – a haunting nightmare, but then she was suddenly right in front of me and very real." He shivered visibly, as he shook his head. Hands fiddling together in visible fear, "Her magic, it's the same as the kind you've been teaching me. I can feel her and it's so, so cold and dark." He dried a tear away as they started falling freely, "I'm really scared." He then admitted and looked up at the old man, "I've never felt anything like it and I thought… I hoped that maybe you would…"

He felt his heart break a little for the boy in front of him and without thinking, he pulled him in for an embrace.

"I'm sorry." He whispered gently, "I'm sorry it has come to this."

…

"You know." A sudden voice spoke behind him, as he was cleaning up the kitchen. He recognized the voice and let out a sigh, as he continued with the washing.

"You know what it means. Like me, you can feel it, if not more." The voice continued, "You've been hiding long enough, Master. It's time to-"

"I know!" He shouted annoyed and threw a spoon in the sink, finally turning towards his guest, "Believe me Aithusa, I know." He added and gave the man a look. The young man was dressed in an all-white suite, making his pastel skin, white hair and big, pale blue eyes stand out. With time, the dragon had learned to take human form, something they both had found came in handy, especially as the world grew more estranged to the magic creatures. Aithusa sighed and uncrossed his arms, taking a step closer.

"I realize it's been a while for you, but this is not just about us." He said with a sense of urgency, looking at his master, sadness evident in his eyes, "They need you, now more than ever and you know why." He paused for a moment, before he added, "You've seen her."

The old man drew a shaky breath and nodded, as he looked away.

"The crystals have been very clear about her part in all this." He admitted, leaning against the kitchen table, hands clutching the edge tensely, "But he's not here, I'm not sure I can… without him, I.."

Aithusa rolled his eyes and smacked the back of his master's head hard, earning a pained groan and a glare from him.

"Do I really need to remind you of who you are?" He asked incredulously, "You really need to stop living in the past. It's been 1500 years already! Get over it, old man!"

"Who are you calling old?" He then replied, a small smirk growing in the corner of his mouth.

"I've still got 20 years on you." Aithusa pointed out smugly.

"Not if we count the 400 years you spend in your egg." The old man insisted stubbornly, not really liking being called 'old', despite Draco calling him this on numerous occasions.

"Well, we don't." Aithusa said, "But all jokes aside, Merlin…"

The old man nodded and closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh,

"Yeah, I know…" Then he grabbed a towel and dried his hands, as he walked back towards the living room, "What I don't know is how or why." He said and headed to one of his shelves, looking over his books, "Draco said he had had dreams about her, before actually meeting her…"

"It seems there's more to the boy you've been mentoring, than you first anticipated." Aithusa pointed out, joining the old man in the living room, "You think he has the gift as well?"

"It would seem so..." He admitted and took down a book, opening it carefully, "But how… and more importantly; why? What are the goddesses plotting?" He asked, no one in particular, as he picked up a white crystal from the hollow pocket in the book, "That's what I'd like to know."

…

It was a quiet evening at the Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. It was still mid-summer and the students were yet to come back from their long summer holiday. The halls were empty as the remaining teachers had had dinner and had all retired to their private chambers.

The Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, sat in office, going through some papers as preparation to the new school year. As had been the case for the past five years, the school needed a new Defense against the dark arts teacher, and as it was, it wasn't a position which were too desired having earned a bad reputation. However, it seemed Severus was still interested in the position, despite it all, and Dumbledore felt that he might have to agree, however, that left the position of the positions master vacant.

Dumbledore sighed and drove a hand through his long beard. Would making Severus the defense teacher really be wise, considering what went on with Voldemort though? The headmaster threw out the document he had been writing and took another to start anew with a frustrated sigh.

Fawkes cooed at him, telling him it would be alright and a second later a sudden wind stirred up inside the office. Dumbledore stood up immediately, wand at ready and on guard. He was pretty sure that the defenses were still up and apparating into school was impossible, however there was no doubt that the sudden winds were caused by magic.

He was about to cast a disarming spell, when a figure appeared in the winds, however his wand was ripped out of his hand, and he stood back, eyes wide in surprise and fear as the wind settled down.

"Albus Dumbledore, I presume." A young man asked as he stepped out in the middle of the office, the winds fading to nothing. Dumbledore stood frozen as he stared at the raven-haired man, meeting clear blue eyes.

Fawkes let out a shriek, which more than anything sounded like uncontrolled excitement, before it flew to the young man.

"Fawkes." The man said and smiled as the phoenix landed on his outstretched arm, "You're still around, huh?"

Fawkes hooted pleasantly as it caressed the man's cheeks with it head. Dumbledore stared at the scene dumbfounded.

"Who...?" The Headmaster asked confused and took a step forward. Fear had left in favor of confusion as he knew that any person who Fawkes accepted, was someone to be trusted.

Blue eyes met his, as a small smile kept over the man's lips.

"Come now, Albus." He said gently, "Don't let the young appearance fool you. A man like you should be able to tell who I am."

Dumbledore squinted his eyes, looking at the other man, as he stepped closer to him. He held the eyes, staring into them, looking for an answer. He let out a small gasp at what he found.

Time.

Wisdom.

Magic.

"Don't tell me," He began, his voice shaking in disbelief, "You're... you're Merlin...?"

The young man smiled and nodded before he gave a small formal bow.

"I knew you knew." He then said and let Fawkes back to his place, "You have always been a very bright boy, Albus." He added affectionally and winked at the old man.

Dumbledore shook his head in disbelief and took a step back.

"But how?" He asked troubled, "Why? You, you've never... and frankly speaking, people have long gone stopped believing you've ever been real."

Merlin chuckled and turned to Dumbledore.

"Yeah, so I've realized." He said with humor as if he remembered something specific, "And it's fine that way, in fact, it's probably safest that way."

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked, a curiosity stirring up in him. For what reason would the greatest hero and legend of the wizarding world, suddenly appear and yet not letting people know who he was?

Merlin gave Dumbledore a long and serious look, before he let out a long breath and pinched his nose.

"I've been informed about this wizard, Voldemort?" He began, as he walked past Dumbledore, to the chair in front of the desk, "I know you've dealt with him before. While I've lived by the principle of not getting involved, I am being kept updated in what's going on. I feel it," Merlin said and met Dumbledore's eyes again, "in the magic." He elaborated and paused for a moment, giving Dumbledore a chance to understand, "I was planning on letting you deal with Voldemort this time as well…"

"But…?" Dumbledore asked, giving the sorcerer a curious look, "You decided to come out and help us? What changed?"

Merlin drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. He closed his eyes for a moment, before he met Dumbledore's eyes again.

"Well for one, there's this boy," Merlin answered with a crooked smile, "who was pleading for help and then there's her."

Dumbledore blinked and gave Merlin a confused look, as he sat down behind his desk, facing the sorcerer.

"Her?"

"An ally." Merlin said, "Someone he didn't have last time. An old… acquaintance of mine."

It took a little while before Dumbledore understood to who Merlin was referring, however the moment he realized an icy cold shiver ran down his spine. He had grown up with the stories of the warlock and so, he knew. He gave a short nod, telling the man he understood.

"Thank you." Dumbledore said, his voice nothing but a gentle whisper, however it seemed Merlin heard none the less as he nodded. The warlock stood up without another word and turned, getting ready to leave, however Dumbledore called out to him.

"We're one teacher short this year," Dumbledore said and braced himself for asking someone like Merlin the question, "It would be a great honor if you would take on that position, especially if what you just told me is true. It would mean a lot, if you could help keeping the children safe here."

Merlin closed his eyes and let out a small sigh, before he turned to face Dumbledore again.

"I'm not sure that your Ministry would approve what I would teach the children." He said and crooked a smirk. Dumbledore smiled in return.

"Oh, that's what I'm counting on it, Mr. Merlin."

A/N: First chapter done. How did you like it? Please let me know ;)