Ancient Help (A Harry Potter and Merlin Crossover)

Chapter One: The Quest

A/N: Hello and welcome to 'Ancient Help'. Just a little bit of warning: I wrote this fic back in 2012 (YES! 9 freaking years ago), so there may be some questionable grammar and maybe even questionable plot points. I honestly have a faint memory of the whole Merlin series, but I do remember I loved it so much, hence this crossover was born. Again, i wrote this NINE YEARS AGO, so y'all be a little gentle with your comments hahaha. I'll get back to editing this monstrous fic as soon as I can, but I hope you enjoy reading this fanfic despite the flaws.

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Hermione Granger sighed, feeling extremely tired as she read the events that had happened during "The Battle of Camlan", which was famously known as King Arthur's legendary battle with the traitor, Mordred. She rubbed her bleary eyes and yawned, finally closing the book of the Arthurian legends Dumbledore had given to her.

She was in Grimmauld Place, the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. It was the summer before their seventh year and, under the strict orders of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Golden Trio was to stay in Grimmauld Place for the summer under the supervision of the Headmaster himself.

"He's growing paranoid, that old coot," Ron reckoned one night as they gathered in Harry's room, discussing about Professor Dumbledore and his sudden desire to protect and secure them.

Hermione could not blame Dumbledore, though. Voldemort's power was increasing and according to Professor Snape, the trusted and loyal spy of the Order, the Dark Lord was already planning to attack Hogwarts once the students come back for the new school-year. Dumbledore, unsurprisingly, did not want to raise any alarm to the students and their parents. As much as possible, he wanted them to stay cool and calm, void of any possible terror that could cause their own life.

She thought it was a little unfair, especially to those who wished not to be part of the impending Second War, because they were depriving them from knowing what was truly happening in the Wizarding World. But then again, Dumbledore had a point. And besides, the Ministry of Magic was starting to get wary with him and Harry Potter. They still did not believe them that Voldemort was back. If they were to prance around and declare to the whole Wizarding World that there was a threat from the Dark Side, they would be the laughing stock of the magical world.

Grimacing, Hermione sighed once again and placed her forehead on the cool table. It was tiring; fighting for a war, that is. The Order was starting to hope against hope, which was not a good thing at all. Once upon a time, they were this impenetrable force in the Wizarding World, the beacon of light and hope to all. But lately, Hermione could already feel that there was this unspoken despair hanging around their heads. The usual cheerful Mrs. Weasley wasn't cheerful anymore. There was this constant worry worn on her face, her eyes darting almost every second to the family clock to see if one of the hands of the clock had pointed to mortal peril already. Lupin had started drinking again and Tonks had to constantly remind him to stop. And of course, Dumbledore's sudden overprotective-ness.

Hermione started thinking that perhaps, during the Second War, they would lose against the vilest wizard they had ever known.

The door of the library then creaked open and Ginny's friendly face poked inside. Hermione weakly smiled as the redhead walked inside and sat down beside Hermione. "Hey," she softly said, grinning widely. Upon seeing Hermione's tired face, she reached out for her hand and squeezed it. "Are you all right?"

The brunette shook her head and gestured at the tons of books sitting atop her table. "I cannot believe I'll be saying this in my whole nineteen years of existence, Ginny, but I am tired of reading," she said, slight humor in her voice.