Disclaimer: I only own the plot, I swear to Merlin :D

A/N: SO HELLO MY DEAR READERS. Once again, you have stumbled upon my new work of fan fiction, which I fervently wish you will come to love. I know this is another crossover, with our dearest Hermione Granger paired once again with an unlikely character, but I do hope you will give this a chance. I am hopelessly in love with the TV series, BBC Merlin, and I also came to love its unsung hero.

PLEASE READ THE A/N AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER. IT IS VERY IMPORTANT.

For now, do enjoy this chapter! Review afterwards, please!

Title: Ancient Help
Author: WickedlyAwesomeMe
Language: English
Form: Multi-Chaptered
Genre: Adventure/Romance
Rating: T, just to be safe
Warning: Character death, violence, cuss words, and possible innuendos
Pairing: Merlin/Hermione Granger
Summary: Voldemort was getting more powerful and the Order was getting desperate. There was only one thing that could destroy the Dark Lord once and for all and it is up to Hermione Granger to go back into time to acquire the ancient help. Merlin/Harry Potter crossover. Merlin/Hermione pairing. Probably starts after Season 2 Episode 9: The Lady of the Lake (Merlin) and End of Half-Blood Prince (Harry Potter).

Ancient Help by WickedlyAwesomeMe

Chapter One: The Quest

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.

Ginny chuckled and fondly patted her arm. "Finally," she claimed. "I am glad that you started to act like a human person again, not some robot who constantly told us off for not reading a lot."

Hermione rolled her eyes at her comment, but she couldn't help to show the growing smile on her face.

"Has Dumbledore been breathing down your neck again?" the youngest Weasley asked, perusing around Hermione's table. There were a lot of books about King Arthur and the famous wizard Merlin; some were speculations of the legendary king's birth, others were his death. Once she looked back at Hermione, her eyes were widened a bit. "Blimey, Hermione! You've read all of this in one sitting?"

Hermione shrugged and pulled back the last book she was reading, the one about the Battle of Camlan. "Years of practice," she said, prompting Ginny to chuckle.

"And you still don't know why you're doing this?" the redhead added.

"Sadly, no," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I mean, I've spent gruelling hours in this library, researching about Ancient Camelot, King Arthur, and good, ol' Merlin, but still, Dumbledore refuses to tell me the reason why."

Apologetically, Ginny placed her hand on top of her arm again and squeezed it for comfort. "And Harry knows?" she added.

Hermione nodded, frowning with this thought. "I mean, it wouldn't hurt to tell me the purpose for ordering me to do this," she said. "My mind is going to explode soon, what with all the battles King Arthur had to go through just to protect Camelot. But good Godric! I think I am already done with all of this Old English mumbo jumbo."

Ginny frowned, too, and thoughtfully looked at the piles of books. "You know, I actually thought that Dumbledore would force you to research more about some dangerous and more complicated spells," she said. "Not about some bedtime stories for children."

The older of the two laughed and absentmindedly patted the book she was holding. "It's not that bad, though," she said. "All of King Arthur and Merlin's adventures are very interesting. And then, there was Queen Guinevere, Morgan le Fay, Mordred. Oh, and do you know that there was this story about Sir Gawain and - "

"Hermione," Ginny said, cutting her off from her sentence. "Please, spare me."

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," Hermione said, chuckling upon seeing the incredulous look on her face. "Very tiring to read, yes, but it was somehow fun reading."

"I thought you were tired of reading," Ginny said, accusatory. "I thought you said, and I quote, that you are already done with all of this Old English mumbo jumbo." When Hermione sheepishly smiled, Ginny released a soft shout of disbelief, shaking her head in the process. "Maybe this is the reason why Dumbledore chose you, of all people, to spend your whole day in this godforsaken library just to research about myths and legends of the infamous King Arthur and his trusted Merlin."

Hermione grinned and shrugged. "Maybe," she claimed. A wide yawn then tore through her lips and she lifted her arms above her head, trying to stretch her aching limbs. "Well, I guess I'll call this a night." A small grimace formed on her lips. "I am sure I'll be dreaming about this Battle of Camlan, though. Great Merlin, I kept on having dreams about everything I've read." A small disbelieving laugh escaped from her lips and she shook her head. "It's like I'm also in Camelot with all of the characters of the Arthurian legends."

Ginny looked highly amused. "You? In Camelot?" The redhead released a soft scoff. "Right."

"Anyway," Hermione said, slowly standing up from her seat. "Before you start ranting off about my overly imaginative brain, I'm going to retire to my bedroom now and take some rest."

The youngest Weasley also stood up from her seat and gave Hermione a hug. "Goodnight," she cheerfully said. Hermione bid her the same thing and watched as Ginny walked out of the library. The brunette pulled out her wand and charmed the books to go back to their proper places.

With one last look at the library, Hermione turned around and walked out of the room.

The moment Hermione walked down to the dining room to eat breakfast, she knew that something was terribly, terribly wrong. For one, all of the occupants of Grimmauld Place were already seated on their proper places. Apparently, Hermione had woken up later than them. When she looked up at the clock hanging on the wall, she was surprised to see that it was still seven in the morning. And Ron and Ginny were already awake.

"Did I miss something?" the brunette asked, humoured as she sat down beside Harry, the only vacant chair in the room. "All of you are awfully early." Her eyes widened upon seeing Ron's plateful of breakfast Mrs. Weasley had made. "Ronald, you're not touching your food."

To her utter surprise, Ginny started snivelling softly on her seat. The youngest Weasley pressed a hand against her mouth upon seeing Mrs. Weasley's pointed look. "S-sorry," Ginny choked behind her hand, looking down on her also untouched plate to keep her emotions at bay.

"What is going on?" Hermione asked, this time concluding that something was definitely wrong. All of them were wearing serious faces, even the twins, and Fred and George were never serious. Apparently, today was an exception and Hermione, with her heart turning cold, looked at Harry beside her.

"D-did the Death Eaters already attacked?" There was a slight tremor in her voice and Hermione tried to calm herself down. She had a nervous breakdown before, and that was when her parents were murdered by the Death Eaters in their own house. She was afraid that if she did not calm herself down, she would be an emotional wreck again.

Slowly, to her relief, Harry shook his head. She breathed a sigh of relief and uncertainly smiled. "Then, what is the matter?" she asked.

As if on cue, a loud pop from the drawing room was heard. They all knew that Dumbledore was back from Hogwarts to give them more information about Voldemort and his impending attack. Upon his arrival, Ginny had forgotten to be discrete for her tears grew horrible and helpless. Not even Mrs. Weasley could calm her down.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked again, this time determined to know the answer.

"Everything will be all right, Hermione," Tonks offered, talking for the first time. Her words contradicted her expression, though, as her eyes were already bright with unshed tears. Her hair was an awful shade of black, too – a color that signified Tonks' gloominess.

Lupin, noticing her distressed, placed his hand on top of hers, his grave face never turning away from Hermione.

Dumbledore then somberly approached her and placed a hand on top of Hermione's shoulder. "Miss Granger," he started, "please follow me." The Headmaster looked at The-Boy-Who-Lived beside her, whose face was now extremely pale for her own liking. "Mister Potter, please follow, too."

Wordlessly, Hermione nodded and stood up from her seat. Harry followed suit and all three of them walked out of the dining room. The brunette looked behind one last time and saw how everybody in the room seemed to look back at her mournfully. Immediately, she looked straight ahead, unable to bear the grief on their faces.

The Headmaster then led them inside an empty room and charmed the door to lock. A desk was inside and Dumbledore strolled towards it, sitting down on the chair behind it. His eyes instantly locked with hers and she realized, with a sinking heart, that their usual twinkle was gone.

Harry then surprisingly held her hand and gave it a squeeze, as if giving her as much comfort as he could give her. Hermione looked up at Harry with fear in her eyes, and then back at Dumbledore.

"Professor…" she started, her voice cracking with nervousness. She cleared her voice and took a deep breath. "Professor," she said, this time with more strength, "what is going on?"

Dumbledore offered her a small smile. "Please, Miss Granger, do sit down," he said.

Strangely, her legs felt heavy and she could not bring herself to move them and sit down on one of the ancient couches in the room. Harry had tugged her arm when she did not move and allowed him to direct her on one of the couches. Harry sat down on one of the armrests, his arm now instantly wrapping around her shoulders.

"What is going on?" Hermione demanded, now becoming angry. "I've asked this question countless times already but nobody seemed to want to give me the answer!"

"Miss Granger, please," the old wizard softly said, trying to appease her with his stare.

Beside her, she realized that Harry was starting to tremble. When she looked up at him, there was clear distress written all over his face. "I don't like this," Hermione muttered, looking back at Dumbledore. "Please, tell me. What is going on?"

"I have asked you to read about the Arthurian legends for the past weeks, Miss Granger," Dumbledore started, expelling a soft sigh. Hermione was surprised with how much exhaustion he exuded. She mulled that it was probably the first time she saw Dumbledore so… so weak and tired. "There is, of course, a purpose for asking you to do this."

Hermione stiffly nodded, already realizing this. Of course, there was a purpose. She had concluded that ever since Dumbledore came back from Hogwarts, tons of books about King Arthur and his adventures piled in his arms just to give them to the brunette and urged her to read more about it. The reason, of course, was something she still did not know.

"You are also aware that there are seven horcruxes that Voldemort created," Dumbledore repeated. "We have destroyed all six but one."

"Me," Harry croaked quietly beside her, talking for the very first time. Hermione's hand immediately shot up to place it on top of his other free hand. Her best friend smile down at her and she returned it back with an equally small one.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, quite right," he continued. "And we all know that if we are to use the Killing Curse on Harry, he will die."

The brunette gulped, uncomfortable with the idea of Harry sprawled messily on the ground, lifeless. Dead.

"Why are you telling me this, Professor?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"Excalibur," Dumbledore declared. "Is this familiar to you?"

Hermione wryly smiled and nodded. Of course she knew about this. She had been reading about this for weeks already. "Yes," she said. "It is King Arthur's legendary sword. The one he had used to kill the traitor, Mordred."

The old wizard cracked a small smile. "Very good," he said. "Yes, Excalibur or Caledfwlch in Welsh. It is, indeed, the legendary sword of King Arthur. There are a lot of speculations that this specific sword has magic. It is, of course, the same sword that King Arthur had pulled from the rock, signifying his rightful title as the true king of Albion."

"The Once and Future King," Hermione corrected.

Dumbledore nodded and then slowly stood up from his seat. He started pacing, his face showing great conflict as he took every step. "Excalibur is said to be a sword that always knows its purpose upon being used," he continued, his right hand running thoughtfully through his white beard. "It has the ability to inflict different magnitudes of pain, depending on who it is being used to. Its power is extraordinary and I believe that it is the only weapon that can slay Voldemort's spirit inside Harry's body without killing him."

Her eyes widened, an idea suddenly coming into her mind. "What are you trying to say?" she accused, the color on her face draining.

"Hermione," Harry whispered, holding her chin to force her to look at him. The brunette watched upon seeing the defeat on his face. "Please, be open-minded."

Tears were already forming on her eyes and she wrenched away from Harry, fury now building up inside her system.

"It was said in the legend that the magical sword had disappeared after The Battle of Camlan where Mordred died and King Arthur was mortally wounded, leading to his imminent death," Dumbledore continued. "A lot of legendary people, wizard and Muggle alike, had scoured the whole world just to look for the sword. But then, none was successful and nobody knew its whereabouts."

Bitterly, Hermione glared up at Dumbledore. "And you want me to return back into time to steal it," she stated, matter-of-factly. Upon seeing the professor's apologetic look, her heart crumbled and the tears now streamed down her face. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"It's our only hope," the old wizard whispered, his tone surprisingly holding so much vulnerability.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized as Hermione started crying. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

Hermione pulled away from Harry and stood up, wordlessly storming out of the room back to her bedroom.

"Hermione?" Harry whispered, slowly walking inside her room. The said brunette was lying down on her bed, her back facing him. "Dumbledore wishes to speak to you."

He heard a soft sniff and he silently smiled. Harry approached her bed and sat on it, his hand immediately running through her hair. "Everybody's worried about you," he stated.

"H-harry," she softly croaked, turning around to face him. The sight of her face broke his heart and immediately, his thumb started wiping the tears running down from her face. "Harry, I… I-I'm scared."

"You have every right in the damn world to be one, Hermione," The-Boy-Who-Lived said, nodding his head vigorously. "We're asking you to do a difficult task."

Slowly, Hermione sat up on her bed and now started to haphazardly wipe away her tears. "You know I'll do it, though," she meekly said, her shining eyes immediately connecting with his emerald ones. "For you. For everyone."

Harry drew her into a hug and held her tight. His fear showed, the fear of making her go to a different time period, one that they did not even know if it actually existed. The fear that she was going there, all alone, with no one to confide with. "I was against it at first," he softly said, wanting to offer it as his consolation.

Shakily laughing, she held him tighter. "I know," she blubbered. "Y-you loathe it when other people you care about do dangerous things for you while y-you just stay here, cooped inside this bloody place, until your fateful face-off with Voldemort arrive."

"You don't have to do it, you know," Harry said. "Dumbledore said this was merely an option, albeit the most probable one. We can always find another alternative."

"No," she said, shaking her head as she pulled away from him. "I have to do this, Harry. I-I admit; I was furious. Why did you keep this from me before my actual departure? I should know this, of all the goddman people, Harry, because it is me that will be sent back during King Arthur's reign to steal Excalibur."

"Dumbledore thinks it is for the better," Harry sighed, rolling his eyes. "You know him. He always thinks some things are always for the better, even though it is a little confusing for us."

Hermione sighed. "I'm leaving tomorrow, right?" she asked. When Harry nodded, she closed her eyes and wiped away her tears. "I'll try to do my best, Harry."

Smiling fondly, he placed his hand against her cheek. "I know you will," he said. "We all know that you will do your best, Hermione."

Grimmauld Place was awfully quiet today. All of them were gathered in the drawing room, waiting for Dumbledore's arrival.

Today, Hermione would be sent back to Ancient Camelot and do a task she did not imagine in her whole life she would do. The fury and fear had slightly dissipated now. She had calmed down tremendously yesterday, especially after Harry, Ron, and Ginny had stayed by her side. For the whole night, they also came up with an excuse for Hermione's arrival, in case she needed to have an answer. She was grateful for the ideas they had offered and memorized each and every suggestion.

As she looked at them now, she knew they were reluctant to say goodbye to her. There was this fear in them, thinking that if they said their goodbyes, they would not be able to see Hermione anymore.

Hermione jumped a little when Harry slid his hand into her own. Ron, copying Harry's actions, slid his hand into her other one. The brunette gave both of them a watery smile, smiling at the two boys that she had come to love and care for. Who knew they would be best friends? Before, Ron was this disgusted boy who thought she was too bossy for his own liking. But now, look at them, holding hands. Stranger things had happened and Hermione wished that once she got back from Camelot, Excalibur in her hand, she would still be able to greet her friends whole-heartedly.

Her musings then was cut short when Dumbledore apparated. Hermione immediately stood up as Dumbledore nodded his head, signalling her to follow him. She nodded and then followed, but before leaving the drawing room, she looked back and smiled at each and every faces that became important in her life. "I'll come back," she softly announced. They all smiled back, albeit tearfully, and nodded, knowing that she would, no matter what happened.

The brunette then walked out of the room and followed Dumbledore as he led her in the same room he revealed about the mission she was to do.

"I trust that you are ready, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said.

Frowning, Hermione sighed and shrugged, not really knowing what to answer back.

The old wizard then pulled out his wand and drew an ancient circle on the floor. There were symbols, which Hermione was not quite familiar with. "This is a symbol of the Old Religion," Dumbledore announced, sensing her curious look.

He then straightened back and pointed his wand at Hermione. Warily, she stared at the tip. "You need not worry, my dear student," Dumbledore said, softly chuckling. With a wave of his wand, her clothes changed and grimacing, Hermione felt instantly hot and restricted. "This is what the medieval peasants usually wore during King Arthur's reign. I am quite sure that it is best to instantly blend than stick out."

Stiffly, because the clothes felt a little uncomfortable, Hermione walked closer to the ancient symbol. Dumbledore muttered a spell, his wand pointed at the symbol. It grew white for a while before he placed the tip of his wand against Hermione's right temple. For a moment, she swayed, surprised by the new information that was forced into her mind.

She rapidly blinked and looked at Dumbledore, surprised to know that the image of the symbol was forever imprinted in her mind. "You will need this to go back home," Dumbledore stated, smiling kindly at Hermione.

The brunette looked back at the symbol and nervously swallowed. "Are you sure this will work?" she asked.

Dumbledore sighed. "The least we can do is to try," he said.

Fear gripped her heart. "You… you don't know if this will work?" she asked, her voice a little high-pitched.

"Miss Granger…"

"I know, I know," she said. "Our only hope, right?"

The old Headmaster smiled kindly at Hermione and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Miss Granger, I will not lie and tell you that everything will turn out okay," he said. "Because, everything might not turn out in the way that we expected." He paused and then took a deep breath. "We are tampering Time here. Momentarily confounding it to believe that nothing had changed; that, once you are sent back to Ancient Camelot, you truly belong there. Therefore, this quest you are asked to do is dangerous. We do not know what will happen to you once you arrive there. There might be side effects, one that will be dangerous even to your own life. But Miss Granger, Hermione, we have to try."

Hermione then earnestly nodded and closed her eyes. She tried to drive out the fear that was building inside her system. "I-I understand," she whispered.

"It is perfectly acceptable to be afraid," Dumbledore told her.

She cracked a sad smile and nodded. "Of course," she said. Hermione then pulled away from the Headmaster and walked inside the ancient symbol. She stopped right at the very middle and turned to Dumbledore, a determined look now on her face. "I'm ready, Dumbledore."

The Headmaster nodded and lifted his wand, pointing it directly at her. "Ándaga, béo geondmenge and forlæte hie áfær," he boomed. The ancient symbol grew golden and Hermione gasped, feeling a sudden pull. "Ándaga, cwæ álíefe and forlæte hie ádríeg hie sculan."

A small, golden orb was produced and slowly engulfed Hermione's form. Hermione looked around, her hand slowly reaching out to touch it. It was solid, she mused, as Dumbledore's voice grew louder and stronger.

"Áciere áfær in ándagan and forlætedrýcræfte béo úre begíemend." Hermione noticed that she was becoming more incorporeal and transparent, the pull getting stronger and more painful. "Áciere áfær in ándagan and áhredde ús á!" [1]

His last words rang loudly in the room. Unwittingly, Hermione released a scream as the pull grew unbelievably stronger. Her eyes connected momentarily at Dumbledore, and as he mouthed the words "good luck", his figure became fainter and fainter until, all Hermione could see was black.

Merlin, disgruntled, immediately ran towards Arthur, his crossbow clutched tightly in his hands. He was not able to see an uprooted root, though, for he tripped on one and unceremoniously landed on his face.

"Merlin, you idiot, what's taking you so long!" the Prince furiously whispered, his eyes trained intently on a deer he had spotted a few meters from them.

The manservant stood up with a grunt, glowering darkly at Arthur. He could not believe he was to answer his every beck and call obediently and tirelessly. 'What was I thinking when I saved this clotpole again?' he asked himself, once again running towards the prince. His eyes were trained on the ground this time, making sure to avoid anything that could possibly trip him again. But then, he was unable to see Arthur move, and came crashing into his chest when he wasn't looking.

"MERLIN!" Arthur barked, and his manservant immediately rolled away from his chest.

"I apologize, sire," he said, offering up his hand to help the Prince up. Arthur instead stood up without his help, a huge scowl on his face upon realizing that they had scared the deer away.

Furious, he turned at Merlin, who in return stared back at him innocently. "Well, you know what people say, Prince Arthur," he joked, grinning to appease his furious master. "There are many deer in the forest." He chuckled, humoured by his own joke, but Arthur continued to be stoic and furious. Immediately, Merlin straightened up and stopped laugh. "Right, we must continue."

Arthur grabbed his neckerchief roughly and pushed him to the ground. Once again, his face painfully connected with the dirty ground. A soft groan escaped from his lips as he stood up, wiping off the dirt that had clung to his clothes. With a grimace, he knew that washing them off would be a gruelling task. But then again, what couldn't magic do?

Merlin silently followed Arthur, already thinking of a great time to wash his clothes by secretly using his magic. He knew Gaius would have his head if he discovered he had been using his magic once again for convenience.

The manservant sighed and shook his head. It was very much unfair to him that he could not practice magic, all because the king prohibited the whole kingdom to. Of course he knew that he had lost his wife from magic, but that did not necessarily mean that everybody who possessed such a gift was evil already.

"You must understand how Uther's heart broke when Queen Ygraine died," Gaius constantly reminded him during times when he would whine to him about the injustice of everything. "Have patience, Merlin, and your desire to practice magic freely will soon come true."

He came to Camelot, leaving Ealdor and his mother, because he thought life would be better here in Camelot. Oh, how wrong he was. For example, he just had to be unfortunate enough to serve under the most impossible prat he had ever met in his whole life.

"Merlin!" the said prat cried. Merlin sighed once, praying to the gods above to spare him from his impending misery.

As he followed Arthur, he still sometimes could not believe that he was destined to be the greatest King of Camelot, the same person that would unite all of the kingdoms and create Albion. The Dragon also pointed out that he could even bring back magic of the Old Religion to the New Age, which he knew Merlin desires the most.

"Did you hear that?" Arthur asked, cutting him off from his musings.

Blinking, Merlin looked around and strained his ears. "I don't think I can hear some - "

"Shh," the Prince said, raising a hand to stop him from talking. Arthur then grabbed his crossbow from Merlin's hands and held it in his attack position. Slowly, he started to walk, with Merlin meekly following him.

A noise from a nearby bush was heard and Merlin's eyes widened. Looking at Arthur's back, he readied himself in case it turned out to be a dangerous beast.

Arthur crept closer, telling Merlin to wait. As usual, his manservant did not listen and still followed him behind. The Prince looked at him and rolled his eyes, but Merlin merely shrugged his shoulders.

The noise grew louder and frantic. Arthur then stopped and waited with bated breath, the crossbow in his hand already ready to attack whatever beast was lurking behind the bushes.

A creature then emerged, and the arrow on the crossbow was released. Horrifyingly, the Prince realized that a dirty peasant woman, whose eyes were wide and fearful, was the creature that had emerged from the bushes. Unbeknownst to him, Merlin acted immediately. Directing his eyes at the flying arrow, he charmed it to hit a nearby trunk instead.

Silence followed as Arthur and Merlin stared at the stranger. To their surprise, the girl released a strange noise at the back of her throat before fainting.

[1] Ándaga, béo geondmenge and forlæte hie áfær. Ándaga, cwæ álíefe and forlæte hie ádríeg hie sculan. Áciere áfær in ándagan and forlæte drýcræfte béo úre begíemend. Áciere áfær in ándagan and áhredde ús á. - Time, be confused and let her journey back. Time, please permit and let her do her task. Go back in time and let magic be your guide. Go back in time and save us all.

A/N: So, how do you like it so far? Tell me in your reviews!

ANNOUNCEMENT:

Okay, I know that I said in my previous story, "When Two Worlds Collide", that I will be in a loooooong hiatus after posting the last chapter. That is still quite true, my dear readers, and I am merely posting the first chapter of "Ancient Help" to see how you will all react with my new story.

Dear Merlin, I've written the whole outline already and can I just say that I struggled writing? Who knew incorporating Hermione into the events that had happened in Ancient Camelot was hard. I tried to write her, with Gwen, Merlin, Arthur, Gaius, and Morgana, as flawless as possible. Although I'm already writing the chapter where everything is starting to become eventful, I still struggle.

I know BBC Merlin shows inaccurate stories of King Arthur and his people. Well, inaccurate seems a little harsh – they give twists of the usual stories that we already know. Truth be told, I haven't read any King Arthur books; thus, I'm only basing everything from BBC Merlin itself. Perhaps, I should be forgiven if I make some little twists of my own to echo the credibility of the awesome series, yes?

Also, all the spells that I will be using in this story is in Old English. Seeing that I am totally clueless of this language, I am using an online translator. Haha, maybe they'd be inaccurate so if anybody here is familiar, then I'd be happy for you to translate all the spells that I wish to use.

SO, just to clarify, I will not be posting the second chapter after a looooooong time. Perhaps, I'll feel inspired for a day and post it on a day you least expected. Do know, though, that I am trying my bloody best to complete this story. I am awfully in love with the outline that I've made and I just hope that I will make a brilliant story out of it.

THAT'S IT FOR NOW! Maybe, along the way, people who are quite familiar with the medieval age and King Arthur's stories will be able to help me make the period of this story believable. LOL, after all, I value your opinions and suggestions.

Until next time and I do hope that you will also give this crossover a chance :D

With love,
WickedlyAwesomeMe

P.S.
So, let me take this opportunity to thank ALL those who have loved, favorited, and reviewed "When Two Worlds Collide". The amount of reviews is unimaginable and I cannot believe how successful the story had been. Maybe, make me happier if you also give this story a chance? Mehehe XD With love, WAM!