Ancient Help (A Harry Potter and Merlin Crossover)

Chapter Eleven: The Son of Balinor

Arthur angrily looked up at the sky, taking note that the sun was already high up above the sky, meaning that it was already noon. He specifically told his manservant to meet him in front of the palace doors with everything they would need packed already so that they could finally seek for the last Dragonlord, Balinor.

"You're dead, Merlin," he grumbled to himself, glaring at nowhere.

Just then, he heard quick footsteps rushing towards him. When he directed his eyes at the noise, he was surprised to see a strangely flushed Merlin, clutching a knapsack close to his chest as he rushed quickly towards his side. What surprised him more was the fact that he was accompanied, and by Morgana's other annoying maidservant, no less!

"What took you so long?" he demanded once Merlin stopped by his side. He lifted an eyebrow when his manservant merely flushed redder and looked away, mumbling gibberish, which Arthur did not bother to make him repeat.

His eyes then landed on a determined Hermione, firmly meeting his eyes without faltering. There was always something so peculiar about this girl but he could not really quite put his finger on it. She was impossibly stubborn at times, and would sprout out words that strangely reminded him of his idiotic manservant.

He glared darkly upon seeing the knapsack also clutched tightly in her hands. "What, pray tell, are you doing here?" he asked in exasperation.

The servant girl lifted her chin. "I want to accompany you in looking for Balinor, sire," she explained as politely as possible, but Arthur could perfectly detect the determination and stubbornness in her voice.

The Prince scowled and rolled his eyes. "No," he firmly said. "It will be dangerous. Stay here with Gaius and Guinevere where you will be safer."

A surprising snort of laughter escaped from her. Arthur's eyes widened, disbelieving of such an unbecoming display of girl. "Right," she retorted. "Safer. A Dragon always comes at night, breathes fire into each and every corner of Camelot, and never spares a single soul to live. Please, my lord, do tell me where safety comes in during this time?"

Arthur bristled and glared down at his strangely quiet manservant. "Why does she always, always come with us when we are having missions, Merlin?" he asked, his scowl darkening.

Merlin swallowed and looked away from him. "I don't know, sire," he hastily replied.

The Prince sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 'This is ridiculous,' he said, noting how Merlin's cheeks were ruddy. He had no idea what had happened even before the two arrived, but he was positively sure that Hermione was somehow responsible of Merlin's flustered state.

"Tell her not to come with us," Arthur ordered him, tired of arguing with the girl. It was already quite taxing to deal with Merlin. What more if he had to deal with a stubborn girl that sometimes acted like his servant?

Merlin released a soft sigh and took a quick glance at the brunette standing beside him. "Trust me, Arthur," he slowly started. "Nothing can keep her from coming with us."

Arthur pursed his lips and looked back at the brunette. There was this victorious smile stretched widely on her face, as if she had won a battle, and he sighed. "All right, you can come with us," he finally decided. "But don't blame us if something bad would happen to you."

She grinned. "Of course, your majesty," she said, now shouldering the knapsack. "I will try to give my utmost help when it is needed."

The Prince frowned and looked away, highly doubting her words. After all, she was still a girl.