Ancient Help (A Harry Potter and Merlin Crossover)

Chapter Eight: Merlin's Betrayal

Hermione's heart was thudding loudly as they escaped the ruined castle. Her gasps were short and loud and beads of sweat were already forming on her body. Their horses were tied a few meters away from the castle so as not to startle them in case weird, booming sounds were heard.

Fortunately, they got separated from the Knights of Medhir. It was peculiar that huge rocks just started crashing from the ceiling to the ground and therefore blocking them from the invincible knights. She had this feeling magic was involved; she had this feeling it was Merlin who did it.

Her eyes then landed on the young warlock and she could see how he, too, was struggling to run faster. She then noticed the huge gash on his arm and frowned.

"Hold on!" she cried. Both Arthur and Merlin looked at her in surprise, also drawing into a stop. From where they stood, Hermione could already spy the horses. Pointedly, she looked at Merlin and frowned, "You're hurt."

Arthur's eyes also landed on Merlin and he then noticed the injury that he had.

Wordlessly, Hermione bent down and ripped the front material of her dress. The lower part of her legs up until a few inches of her knees were then exposed and she was not able to see how both Merlin and Arthur blushed in embarrassment.

"W-what are you doing?" the Prince asked, a huge scowl now on his face.

Hermione realized how she was making then uncomfortable and she rolled her eyes. "Oh, for goodness' sake," she muttered under her breath. She then grabbed Merlin's arm and tied the tattered cloth all over his wound to stop its bleeding. "Oh, if only I have Gaius' supplies with me."

"You could have used my neckerchief, you know," Merlin pointed out, clearly joking. Arthur, from beside them, had an amused look on his face. The brunette, on the other hand, looked anything but.

Her glare had reduced him to silence and he looked away. "I wasn't clearly thinking, okay," she snapped, finally tying the knot not-so-gently. Merlin flinched in pain but did not comment about it any further.

Arthur then sighed and ushered them. "Come on," he ordered. "We must go and tell my father."

They ran the remaining distance towards the horses. Now that they were three, Hermione was able to use one of the horses and she galloped behind while Arthur and Merlin went ahead of her.

She could not believe that the Knights of Medhir were actually true. From what she had researched back in Grimmauld Place, they were merely a story of myth. Probably a story that parents could use to their children when they were being disobedient. But then, they fought with them, and it was enough for her to believe the myth. Their invincibility was incredible, yet terrifying. They never faltered by just a mere blow or a slash of a sword.

When they got separated from the knights, Hermione had this feeling that that was not the end of their fight.

A few hours passed and they already entered the borders of Camelot. As soon as they entered, Hermione was immediately struck with the fact that it was eerily silent... too silent. The village outside the castle was normally abuzz with chatters and laughter; children would be running around the streets, mothers would be buying in the village market, and fathers would all be going to work.

"Something doesn't feel right," Merlin claimed. Even Arthur, who normally retorts something to Merlin's words, was quiet as he looked around.

Hermione jerked forward when her horse had slightly tripped. Looking down, she saw a man sprawled messily on the ground. She dismounted her horse and bent down. He was still breathing, but he seemed to be unresponsive. Sleeping, if she had to describe it.