Magical Journey (Merlin | Harry Potter Crossover)

Chapter VII - Not a Party Hearty

They returned to the dormitory about three in the morning, therefore they barely slept that night. But they could stay in beds a little longer because the next day was Saturday and they didn't have to go to classes. But Saturday also meant that Harry has a quidditch match so he won't be able to make his contribution in helping Merlin and Arthur. The young wizard couldn't miss it because this match was against Slytherin and winning with them would make Gryffindors win the Quidditch Cup. It seemed, although, that the problem of returning to Camelot would be only on Hermione and Merlin's heads since Ron told Arthur about quidditch. The king became so fascinated by this wizards' sport that he couldn't wait to see it and cheer for Harry.

Merlin also wanted to join them but he didn't say it out loud. He knew that he might never be able to see it, but there was something more important. They wanted to come back home and the warlock couldn't understand Arthur's behaviour.

"We should be thinking how to return to our time!" Merlin exclaimed when the king decided to go to a quidditch match. He, Arthur, Ron and Hermione were in the school's meadows. "And what is it that you do? You don't worry about it at all and you carelessly go watch some stupid sport!"

"I guess you've gone a little bit too far, Merlin," said Ron as politely as he could. "It's an amazing sport! You're lucky that Harry doesn't hear you."

"And don't say that I don't care about returning to Camelot, Merlin. You know I do," Arthur gave his friend a hurt look.

Arthur and Ron stood opposite to Merlin and Hermione. She, also, was never quite interested in quidditch so no wonder she was agreeing with Merlin.

"You talked him into this," stated Hermione looking at Ron.

"Me? You got some crazy idea again? I just told him that Harry would be missing today because he has a quidditch match. It's not my fault that Arthur started asking questions," Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"Besides, I don't know magic and all these strange spells and enchantments, so what use would it be of me?" said Arthur.

"Well, you could get interested and learn something about ancient magic," Hermione suggested.

"Like hell," Ron muttered.

"Oh, certainly not you!"

"Just stop arguing!" Merlin exclaimed. "All right?"

Everyone fell silent. Hermione stood with her arms crossed and scowled at Ron.

"Maybe it would be better if Hermione and I would go to the library? Everyone will be outside to watch quidditch so we can search through all the books without any problems. Arthur and Ron won't help us anyway if they will be thinking about this quidditch match all the time," said Merlin and added: "When you cheer for Harry, keep your fingers crossed for us so that we can find the right spell. Camelot needs a king to rule."

They all agreed and when Ron and Arthur headed towards quidditch pitch, Merlin and Hermione walked to the library. The warlock looked longingly back at the huge stadium as they were entering the school building. Everyone's gonna have fun, including Arthur, Merlin thought, seeing all these students, wearing scarlet and green, passing them by. Hermione caught up his stare.

"You wanted to go to this match too, didn't you?" she asked.

"Yeah," Merlin nodded slightly. "It could be interesting, you know, to watch sport for wizards and witches. I never thought that something like that would exist," he said. "But there are more important things than that. We cannot waste our time."

After about four hours spent in the library, Merlin and Hermione were coming back to the Gryffindor common room. The Quidditch match ended some time ago and it was obvious who won. The only colour that was seen on corridors was scarlet and gold and there were loads of singing students, but their songs were unbearable. They all were horribly out of tune and their voices sounded like a flock of screeching birds. Deep down, Merlin and Hermione rejoiced, though they couldn't show it because they were too tired. Fortunately, their search proved successful, so they had more reason to be happy than the rest of the Gryffindors.

They probably looked into every book in the Restricted Section, those about Old Religion and ancient magic, and even those whose title did not indicate at all that they might be of use to them. And it turned out that it was in such a seemingly unhelpful book that they found the spell they needed, or rather a ritual that required a lot of energy and experience.

Hermione and Merlin walked over to the Fat Lady's portrait, said password and entered the common room. A bustle hit their ears, the common room was so crowded they barely managed to squeeze to the stairs leading to the dormitories. Merlin looked around to see if Arthur was there but he was nowhere to be found.

"Come on, Merlin! We have to put these notes down, then we'll look for the boys," said Hermione. She was carrying a roll of parchment on which Merlin magically copied the information from the book of rituals.

Hermione hid the notes in her wooden chest in her dormitory while Merlin was waiting on her at the bottom of the stairs and watching all the Gryffindors having fun. He noticed Harry surrounded by other students. They were probably teammates because they were dressed in the same outfit as Harry. Ron was with them, and Merlin was about to go to him and ask where he lost Arthur, but he had just spotted his royal friend in the corner of the room, accompanied by the twins.

"Did you find them?" Hermione asked when she returned from her dormitory.

"Yeah, there they are," Merlin pointed at Arthur, Fred and George. The king was laughing and swaying dangerously in his chair, and the twins kept pouring him some creamy drink into his glass.

"Oh, no," sighed Hermione. "I'm afraid they got your friend drunk."

Merlin walked towards their table with Hermione following him.

"How many did you give him?" she shot the twins a disapproving look.

"Enough to bring him to that state," said Merlin trying to grab Arthur's glass, which the king was already holding to his mouth.

"You cannot get drunk with Butterbeer so quickly. You had to pour the whole barrel into him!" Hermione was indignant.

"Oh, come on now," said Fred with a grin on his face. "Look, how happy he is. We wanted to relax him a bit before he returned to hold the office of the king, right, Artie?"

Arthur clumsily raised his one hand in agreement, while with the other he held the glass firmly, which Merlin was still trying to take from him.

"Artie?" Merlin frowned

"Yeah, do you want some, too?" George asked. "Merlin? Hermione?"

"No, we don't," Hermione replied. "How is Arthur going to go through the ritual with Merlin now?"

"What ritual?" George and Fred frowned.

"A ritual that will bring them back to their time."

"Ah, right. But honestly, you're not gonna do this now," said Fred. "You can do it tomorrow."

"Yeah," George agreed. "Now, let us celebrate! And smiiileee!" he lifted the corners of Hermione's lips with his fingers, forming a broad smile. "We won the Quidditch Cup!"

"I think I'm not feeling well…," Arthur mumbled and finally gave Merlin his glass with Butterbeer.

The king slipped carefully off his chair and tried to get up, but just as he took a step forward he tripped over a table leg. At the last moment, George held him down, because Arthur would have run into Hermione.

"Artie!" Fred exclaimed. "You spilled my beer!"

"Sorry," Arthur raised his hand in an apologetic gesture.

"I'd better escort him to the dormitory," Merlin stated and took his friend by the arm.

"Ohnono… wait, wait…," Arthur muttered and leaned against the wall. "I think I'm not gonna make it…"

"Come on, Arthur. You have to sleep…," Merlin pulled him. He had never seen him like this.

"Wait… wait…," Arthur stopped at the entrance to the stairs. "I think I'm gonna…," he didn't finish. A short and loud "blaargh" left his mouth along with all stomach's contents. Everyone started laughing and cheering that the king was first to pass out.

"Great!" Merlin threw his hands up in disbelief.

Arthur lowered himself to the floor near his colourful, spilled all around, stomach salad with the addition of half-digested Butterbeer. It seemed like he didn't care at all where he was and what he was doing, because he fell asleep quickly with his head resting on the step of the stairs.