Ancient Help (A Harry Potter and Merlin Crossover)

Chapter Fifty: War in Two Worlds

A week had already passed ever since Hermione arrived and now, the whole Order of the Phoenix was gathered inside the vast living room of Grimmauld Place. Right at the middle stood Dumbledore, Hermione, and Harry, the latter wearing what Hermione perceived as a look of complete and utter determination.

Her grip on Excalibur tightened, the look on her face speaking volumes of the anxiety that she felt. She knew that sooner or later they had to try killing the fragment of Voldemort's soul inside Harry with the use of the legendary sword. Although she never doubted the power Excalibur held, she could not shake off the feeling of nervousness.

During her week of stay in the Wizarding World, she was able to catch up with everything that she had missed. The repercussions of growing old had worn off by now and Hermione still felt uneasy with the fact that she looked younger. She was so used to looking at herself in the mirror back in her bedchambers in the castle of Camelot, slightly older that what she was looking right now.

The news about Voldemort and his continued restlessness also made her terrified. The fact that the attacks, whether at Muggles or Magical people, were increasing tremendously and it was already a sign that the impending Second War was coming. It was a relief that Voldemort still had no idea of Excalibur's existence in the hands of the Light Side; the war might have prematurely erupted without even using Excalibur on Harry.

Thus, it did not surprise her when last night, Harry announced his intention to kill the vile monster's soul inside of him.

"Are you quite sure, Harry?" she softly asked him last night as she, together with Ron, spent the night in each other's company.

"Positively sure," The-Boy-Who-Lived answered with so much conviction.

"Miss Granger, the sword," Dumbledore then said, bringing her mind back into the present.

She met the unusually serious eyes of her Headmaster and nodded her head. Slowly, she walked forward and presented Excalibur. The legendary sword twinkled under the unbearable lighting of the living room, mesmerizing the others who were gathered inside the living room.

When Dumbledore turned to Harry, Hermione held her breath.

"Are you ready, Harry?" the wizened wizard asked, looking seriously at the boy who would save them all.

Harry determinedly nodded his head. Hermione was not sure whether Harry felt fear or not. Perhaps, with all the Gryffindor courage that he could muster, he had pushed such frivolous feelings at the back of his mind and focused on the task at hand – destroy Voldemort's remaining horcrux.

"I've always been ready," he rasped out, eyes staring intently at the pointed end of Excalibur.

Dumbledore then slowly lifted the sword and pointed it against Harry's heart. For a heart-stopping moment, the old wizard pulled back before thrusting the sword into Harry's heart.

A deafening cry, one that was too inhumane, filled the whole room. Hermione raised both of her hands and placed them against her ears, watching through half-opened eyes as a black, smoke-like figure escaped from Harry's body, forming a horrendous face that resembled the Dark Lord.

__________

"Right, Merlin?" Arthur drawled, a lazy grin stretched widely on his face. He craned his neck when his manservant did not reply immediately, and suppressed a soft sigh upon seeing the faraway look on the young manservant's face. "Merlin."

The said warlock snapped off from his stupor and landed his blue eyes on the king. Arthur could not help but frown deeply, seeing that his usually bright eyes lacked luster. "Of course, sire," he curtly replied, flashing a brief, wry smile, before looking away from him once again.