Chapter Thirty-Three: Saving Hermione

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Anger flared inside his heart when he saw the blasted impostor now flirting quite outrageously with Sir Percival. Merlin's hands were now balled into fists as he glared venomously at the Lamia taking up Hermione's form. The thought that the real Hermione was someplace dark, dingy, and dangerous plagued his dreams last night; thus, with lack of sleep and extreme worry, Merlin was not exactly in a jolly attitude today.

Even Arthur noticed his terrible mood. His annoyingly happy manservant was absent for today; replaced was a silent, brooding one that no amount of cajoling and playful mockeries from the King could even bring back the smile that usually stretched widely on his face.

"... probably very brave," the Lamia twittered cheerfully, making a big show of running her hand on Percival's biceps. "What would King Arthur do without you, Percival?"

Merlin loudly coughed, attracting the attention of the Lamia. Like Sir Gwaine, Sir Percival's gaze stayed glued on the impostor.

The smile instantly fell from the face of the monster. Her warm, brown eyes, Hermione's, hardened upon seeing him. "Merlin," she curtly greeted, pursing her lips in obvious annoyance at seeing him.

"We need to talk," he said, roughly grabbing her arm.

Sir Percival acted so quickly and ripped off Merlin's hand from her arm. His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. A low growl escaped from his lips and he frighteningly bared his teeth. "Stay away from her," he threatened.

Merlin glared darkly at the Lamia-in-disguise, who flashed a triumphant grin at him.

"Leave us, Sir Percival," the manservant said. "I have some important matters to discuss with my girlfriend."

"No," Sir Percival retorted rather quickly.

The young warlock internally sighed in exhaustion. Sir Percival was his friend, but since he was under the spell of the Lamia, he was acting like an annoying prat. He knew that there was no other way but to use his magic on the enchanted knight.

He directed his eyes at Sir Percival and stared at him intently. He felt some of his magic escaping from him, well-aware that his eyes had also turned momentarily gold. Sir Percival's eyes then grew hazy, confounded due to Merlin's spell.

The Knight of Camelot then turned to the Lamia and proclaimed, without blinking, "I have some important matters to attend to. Good day, Hermione." He then turned around without a single glance back and walked away from the two.

Once he was gone, Merlin immediately latched onto the monster's arm was again and darkly glared at her. "Where is Hermione?" he softly growled, his hold on her tightening.

It disgusted him when the Lamia had the gall to look frightened and confused. "I don't know what you're talking about, Merlin," she said, almost tearfully. "I'm Hermione. What are you talking about?" Merlin glared and squeezed her arm tight. "Let go. You're hurting me!"

Anger consumed him and all he could think of was that Hermione was in danger. This monster was traipsing around Camelot, pretending to be someone she wasn't, and Merlin was so sure that somewhere within this kingdom, this bloody monster had hidden his frightened Hermione.

Merlin merely calmed down when he noticed that they were attracting attention. The villagers most probably had a wrong impression of the scene unfolding in their eyes; they thought that it was Merlin harassing the poor girl.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to unlatch his hand from the brunette's arm. He darkly glared, deeply scowling when there was a certain glint of amusement in the Lamia's eyes. "I will destroy you," he muttered threateningly. "If you do not hand Hermione to me, if you do something to her, mark my words, I will destroy you."

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