Ancient Help (A Harry Potter and Merlin Crossover)

Chapter Fifty-Two: Forevermore

"Thank you, Kilgharrah," Merlin said with a small, grateful smile. 

The Great Dragon gave a reverent bow. "It is my pleasure to help you and the leaders of Camelot, Merlin," he said. "You do not have to thank me at all." 

Currently, they were in the Forest of Essetir. Arthur decided that this would be the safest place they could be if they wanted to recuperate from the sudden attack. Morgana would be restless now, seeing that they were unable to catch Guinevere, and reckoned that the search parties she would send would be bigger and more formidable. 

Merlin and Kilgharrah separated from the group for a while. The other three sought for necessities that they would probably need for their stay. Merlin planned to help after thanking the dragon and bidding him farewell. But then, there was one question that had niggled at the back of his head ever since their plight and he was itching to ask it. He did not have an idea how to present it, though. 

"Something troubles you, I suppose," Kilgharrah said, his features softened as he looked at the dragonlord. "Ask now, young warlock." 

The manservant took a deep breath and looked up at the dragon. "Hermione..." he started, his voice faltering. He absentmindedly ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair. "I don't understand," he continued. "You told me before that if she were to stay here in Camelot, she could die. But then, she is here, very much alive and healthy. I vividly remembered the day when I helped her get back to her own world and I was sure that the spell worked." 

"A peculiar thing, indeed," Kilgharrah said, nodding his head. "If you may please call for the young witch, I would like to have a word with her." 

Merlin nodded his head and ran away, only to come back together with the bewildered brunette. Hermione stared up at the Great Dragon with wide eyes of wonder, surveying his very body with those keen eyes of hers. 

"Step forward, young witch," the dragon ordered. Hermione stiffly followed and took a few steps, her warm, brown eyes not leaving the dragon's golden ones. "Have you brought the sword with you?" 

Hermione swallowed and guiltily broke her gaze away. "I meant to," she said, "but something happened to it while I attempted to go back." She briefly looked over her shoulders at Merlin before turning her gaze back at Kilgharrah. "My headmaster told me that if I were to attempt to go back, I would instantly die, but I insisted and he relented." 

The dragon regarded her with newfound respect. He never thought that such bravery and determination coursed through the bewildering witch. But at the same time, though, he couldn't help but think her actions also fall under the category of foolishness. 

"As the golden orb was produced that was supposed to bring me back to Camelot, it strangely turned into blood red with visible cracks," she continued. "I felt the instant pain, one that I always felt when I still sickly here in Camelot, and I thought I was about to die. But then..." - she tilted her head in slight confusion - "... but then, Excalibur shook and burst into a million pieces, filling all the cracks that was formed. The orb returned to its golden form and successfully brought me here. By the time I woke up, the legendary sword was already gone." 

By the time she ended her speech, Kilgharrah was looking at her strangely. Hermione grew flustered under his gaze and even took a step back. She shot a quick glare at Merlin when she heard a soft chuckle. He then clamped his lips shut and stared back at the dragon, refusing to meet her gaze. 

"The magical sword, I believe," the dragon then boomed, "is one with you." 

Their eyes simultaneously widened, with Hermione's eyebrows almost hidden behind her fringes and Merlin's jaw dropped open.