Disclaimer - I don't own the Wizarding World, Merlin, the Order of Merlin or anything Harry Pottery, as should be obvious from my style of writing.
Okies, I'm not sure where this idea came from, but I thought it was different from what you normally get so I wrote it. This is just the introduction really and I plan also to write about the International Statute of Secrecy and eventually move to modern times (i.e. Harry Potterness). Enjoy and review/flame/suggest improvements/ideas. Hope you like it :)
The Splitting of Two Worlds
Chapter one – Prologue, The Order of Merlin
The mist swirled around the hills, clinging to every blade of grass it could, desperate not to be dispersed. As you travelled along the gentle hills and towering trees the villages of peasants working feverishly in the morning cold, desperate to earn their feed, are but little blots on the beautiful landscape. Idyllic though this picture may be, the pain of riding a broomstick is ever present and I am sure my discomfort will be displayed in the faces of my acquaintances on my arrival at the Court.
I have summoned many of my peers to a gathering at the round table. We are known as the Order of Merlin. Our aim is to help non-magical people with their hard struggles in life and protect them from magical attack from less then savoury wizarding characters. They do not have magic to help them along you see. They cannot fly on broomsticks, nor make their daily labours easier with a wave of a wand. Mind you, with the discomfort I'm experiencing now, I think non-magical people are somewhat better off with their slower lives. I may be hailed as the best wizard in existence at charms but I have not yet managed to find one suiting to the purpose of making my short flight more comfortable. I am beginning to think this aim is unattainable and that my buttocks would be much better off sitting on a horse than a knobbly piece of ash tree.
The castle begins to come into view. The mist is clearing now and I can see a faint silhouette of a keep and curtain walls. The keep is a square, rising high into the sky, a show of power over the local people. A flock of birds is swooping past me as I fly, squawking boisterously, whether in alarm at my presence in the air or just plain excitement I cannot tell. As I land, I spot through the corner of my eye a slight frown of disgust from a non-magical guard of my friend Arthur, who I have helped many times since he was a child. I cannot help thinking there is a shift in the action of the world currently occurring. Magic is no longer fully integrated into non-magic lives. There is a small crack running down the middle of the two 'worlds' which is increasing in size over time and will, possibly, result in a split between us and non-magical beings.
Non-magical peoples are beginning to fear us; they do not understand our ways or customs. Magic is something against which they cannot fight. There is a mutual distrust between us and them. The cracks are partly caused by wizards who believe what 'blood' you are matters. They attack non-magical people with the excuse they are making the wizarding world pure, removing the temptation of a beautiful non-magical woman from the wizards' life therefore ensuring he finds a witch to marry instead. It is nonsense. All the killings do is incite hatred and fear. People react to fear. They rise against it and persecute so they feel like the all powerful being. Wizards are killed because they hurt non-magical humans. And the 'pure bloods' call it wrong. Surely to say such a thing is hypocritical when they kill also. Wizards persecute the opposite way, we are all at fault.
I stand at the head of the table, if a round table can have a head. My acquaintances are attentive, their eyes barely leaving my face. I am setting out my proposals for protecting non-magical humans from magic which, I believe, are essential if there is to be an end to the persecution slowly unfolding in front of our eyes like a poisonous flower just coming into bloom. Some nod their heads in agreement, others remain impossible to figure, but we are all united under the belief that something needs to be done to prevent an ultimate split resulting in the formation of two separate worlds which go their separate ways. It is a solemn affair. We realise that our decision will affect wizards in generations to come. It will affect all.
Merlin, the Prince of Enchanters as he would be known in centuries to come, had foreseen great strife between non-magical and magical beings. Unfortunately, his actions were too little, too late.