Hi all. This is my first story (Or at least the first one I'm confident enough to publish) So don't be too hard on me. Though I don't mind if you point out bits that don't make sense or any typos that weren't picked up by word check. In fact, forget what I just said, I don't care if you didn't like it, please just tell me. Cos I'm sitting here thinking that you all clicked on my story by mistake …

Oh yeah, if anyone can think of a better name for the story, please tell me. I literally just went, oh I don't know what to call this. The name you got was either that or slam my hand down on the keyboard and see what happens … but I thought that might put you guys off so I didn't do that. Same thing if anyone wants to do a cover. I don't really care what, just bear in mind that I won't use it if I don't like it.

I'm going to try to update at least once a week, by that I mean that I'm gonna write however much I like during the week then upload it all on Saturday. So yeah …

Again, my first story, don't flame me too much, but do review. Please review. I need reviews!

"Stay away sorcerer"

"But Arthur, you're going to die!"

"I would rather die than accept help from a sorcerer. You're nothing more than a traitor!"

"Arthur . . ."

"Leave traitor. Magic can never have a place in Camelot. YOU can never have a place in Camelot!"

"Arthur please. Let me save you. You're going to die."

"Then let me die. That's what you wanted all along after all, sorcerer."

"No, Arthur, please, let me save you. Me magic –"

"Is a curse on me and my people, be gone!"

"No, Arthur, you don't understand."

"What don't I understand? My idiocy? For that's what it must have been for you to fool me all these years. You're Dragoon aren't you?"

"Well, yes. But Arthur –"

No buts – Merlin – you killed my father and you are a sorcerer. A monster. Leave Camelot. Never return!"

"Arthur please –"

"No sorcerer! If you have ever cared for me. As a friend or as your king, you will leave now!"

"Arthur" Merlin paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "As you wish . . . Sire" The word was different now. Before it had been mocking, a joke. Now it was just filled with sadness. "I shall leave."

Merlin turned, his tattered neckerchief near non-existent as he cast a single despairing glance back at his dying king. "Goodbye Arthur" His words were sad. Spoken so low that Arthur could not have heard him. Tears in his eyes, Merlin turned his back on his dying king. Arthur was right. He was a sorcerer. He had killed Uther. He deserved to be banished.

Merlin's eyes opened sadly. The crystals in his cave gave a half-hearted shimmer, something was happening, once the light would have been bright, blinding even. But now it had faded, even in this place magic was dying. Merlin's magic was not fading though, if anything it had increased over the years. Kilgharrah said he was the embodiment of the old religion. That he had been made to balance out the lack of magic after the purge. Now even Kilgharrah was gone. Very few creatures of the old religion survived. Merlin could feel it. When those of the old magic died he felt their pain, their lives, their souls, their magic. He felt their very being, their entire lives become a part of him. Merlin was cursed to live on. To remember what had been done to him and his kind, to see what the humans were doing to each other, and yet be able to do nothing to stop it. It wasn't that he didn't have the strength to do so, he did, but he couldn't use it. In his youth he had cursed the old religion, thought it ridiculous for not allowing him to get involved. Now however, over a thousand ears down the line, the old religion was more a part of him than anything else had ever been, even Arthur. Now he understood the balance. How important it was. The balance of the world was more important than any single life, even Arthur's.

It was not that he could not interfere. Upon several occasions he had. At the height of both the worlds wars, in both magical and non-magical counterparts he had interfered, preventing them from disrupting the balance of life and death, already so far flung off its axis. He had interfered to save them, Lily and James Potter, three times if he remembered correctly. But that was only in recent years. Before that he had done other things, both small and large. Saving some people from disaster zones that had to be, from accidents that had to happen. He prevented wars before they started, gave anonymous information to prevent tragedy. But all too o When the hatred for magic had been at its peak, Merlin had even helped four young wizards and Witches to build a school, a safe haven for the wizarding folk. But often he could do nothing. All too often no one would listen to the old man who had seemed so worried for their lives.

The wizards were no better. They were amusing. They thought having magic made them so much better than those without. They even thought of a name for them, muggles. Merlin had to admit it made them easier to refer to, but it still sounded ridiculous. He didn't have to like it.

But that did not matter. For Merlin was a monster. Arthur had said so, Arthur said that Merlin was a monster, a traitor, so it must be true. For Arthur was his king. His other half, if anyone could see what Merlin truly was, then it would be Arthur. Merlin had failed Arthur, he didn't deserve to live, yet here he was. Though maybe it was that he did not deserve the restfulness of death, the solace of no longer being a part of this world. So Merlin watched as his friends grew old and died. Thinking that Merlin had died along with Arthur. He never went back to them, he could not bear to do so, not after Arthur died. They wouldn't forgive him either.

Traitor.

The crystals were glowing again. Merlin grunted, it must be important. They hadn't been this persistent since – Merlin could not remember the last time they been this persistent. It must be important. Merlin stood, he moved his way over to a large crystal at the centre of the cavern.

"dangos i mi bod sy'n ymwneud â'r cydbwysedd" He waved his hand over the crystal, eyes glowing golden as a scene appeared within the glass. It was a house. Merlin frowned, momentarily confused by the image the old religion had chosen to show him. Then his eyes widened slightly in recognition, it was the potter house. He'd chosen to keep an eye on them after the other three instances in which he had saved them, he had assumed he would be called on to do so again. He raised his hand, mouth opening to cast another spell, one to push back that Voldemort as he entered the house, but a twist in his gut told him that this was not the reason he was being shown this, so he stopped, opting to watch and see what happened.

As he did so he reflected on this man who called himself Voldemort. He didn't quite understand his reason for choosing all these names. Though admittedly there were only two. Merlin himself had three names, but he hardly felt that relevant. After all, one was given to him by druids, one was to hide his workings as a sorcerer whilst the other was his real name. Merlin chose to ignore the fact that he had taken many other names when he went into the wizarding world, after all, he never used them long, and he did so mainly so he could buy some supplies without being fawned over as 'the most powerful sorcerer ever born', it had been nice at first, but then it just got annoying. This man, Tom Riddle, had his name, then he made up a new name, Voldemort, to cause people to be afraid, which then caused them to call the man by a different thing all together, You Know Who. It was all rather confusing in Merlin's opinion.

Merlin watched silently as Riddle killed Lily and James with a single spell. He felt sad, he always did, no matter how many times he watched those who were destined to die, he always felt guilty for not interfering, even though he knew he couldn't. He was also surprised, why had the old religion told him to protect these two so well only to tell him to let them die now? It was rather confusing for Merlin, old as he was, but he let it go. As he had so often seen, sometimes it was just best to let the old religion do its thing, and worry about why later. Everything became clear in hindsight. Then he felt a pull on his magic. The old religion did have something for him to do here, but what. An image flashed through his mind. Arthur! He rejoiced momentarily before realising he was wrong. The boy was not Arthur Pendragon. But it did not matter, Merlin could feel his magic responding to the boy's plight. If he wasn't careful he could wind up killing Riddle outright, and that would never do. Instead, Merlin forced his magic to work with what he had. As the last priest of the old religion, he could surely do that much!

All of a sudden Merlin smiled, he knew what he was going to do. Even as Riddle raised his wand, Merlin's eyes flashed golden. A life for a life. Riddle would die in the place of Harry tonight. Merlin gasped, the magical backwash was far greater than he intended. Riddle was dead, but he wasn't. Horcruxes. Merlin growled. This was not good, the power of those dark artefacts was keeping Riddle alive even when he should be dead. At least the old religion seemed to be allowing this to continue, at least for now, though it would be almost certain that one of them was going to have to die in the near future. Merlin frowned, he could not allow that, his magic was telling him to save this potter boy, but there was no way that he could do that to any degree of efficiency from here. No, he was going to have to go to Hogwarts with Harry. Merlin groaned, this was going to take a lot of work.

Merlin frowned, he hated this. His magic was not supposed to be channelled through some sort of glorified stick! He felt his emotions surge and his magic responded, lashing out at the hatful object. The wand in his hand exploded. Merlin hastily raised a barrier, deflecting a few splinters that came straight for his face.

He sighed. It wasn't that he had thought it would be easy, after all, he had seen the wand develop. Originally it had been his idea, a prop used to help focus the minds of the young and to bolster the powers of those with weak magical talents. How was he to know that in a few centuries everyone would be using them? People were just plain lazy nowadays. Merlin chose to ignore the perfectly sound reasoning that magical talent had become somewhat – weaker – over the years, now a strong wizard was someone who would have been considered average in the times of Camelot.

But it didn't really matter. Wizards nowadays used – wands – to cast their magic, and different spells as well. He may not like it, but Merlin knew he was just going to have to suck it up and take it. He wouldn't have to learn ay spells on his own thankfully, Hogwarts would do that for him, but he did however have to sort things out to the degree where he would be able to use magic without said wand blowing up in his face. That would probably be a very good indicator that there was something about him that was stronger than it should have been.

It had been so much easier the last time he had been to Hogwarts, which had admittedly been only so he could help the founders set it up, he hadn't had to use a wand then because, although it was very rare, it wasn't quite as unheard of to not use one. Though he knew that most who had done so had only done so to show off, and that the same would have been assumed of himself.

Quickly casting a spell to repair the wand, Merlin sighed. His other problem had fortunately been easier to handle. Merlin had seen that it was just going to be too confusing to have to make up family names so he had just made an entirely new family, the Emrys', which were famous for being recluses. As such, no one had seen them in the past few centuries, despite them being one of the oldest and richest family of purebloods around. They taught themselves so they never went to school. Well, Merlin though with a smirk, that was about to change. Merlin had arranged for an accident regarding the 'parents' of a young Emrys which Merlin would now be posing as. In fact, the moment he had gained control of using a wand, Merlin was going to be taken to live and grow up with the Malfoys. He had originally thought that he might just go along to be the adoptive brother of Harry, but from the Dursley's reactions to their nephew, he had doubted that they would readily accept a second orphaned wizard. So instead he had opted to become a part of a family with known connections to Riddle. This way he could keep an eye on the dark sorcerer's actions and he would already be in a position where he would not be suspected of protecting Harry. People didn't defend against that which they did not know was there, or rather, that which they thought was an ally. A technique that Morgana had used against him on many an occasion.

So all in all, all of his problems were sorted, Merlin would be going to Hogwarts to protect Harry. Well, he would be as soon as he managed to make a wand work properly. Merlin sighed, he could be here a while.