Chapter 2: Camelot

"How do you know Merlin?" Arthur asked, staring at the girl in confusion. Merlin didn't seem to recognize her, perhaps she was sent to give him a message from Ealdor? And why were her clothes so weird?

She seemed to notice that just as the thought graced Arthur's mind, "I'm from a distant land," she said, "I'm here to see Merlin."

Merlin was very fearful of what the girl would say – she clearly had magic, but she did not seem evil. She was not evil. Was she? However at the moment she didn't seem like she was about to reveal Merlin's secret to the young prince, but rather, just that she wished to convey some message to him. Well convey away, he bade her in his mind, as long as she did not reveal his magic, or her own, to the prince.

"How do I know Merlin?" Hermione repeated, a bit confused as to why the blond boy would ask such a question, everyone knows Merlin. Hermione glanced at the warlock again… right! He was young, too young for him to have become known as the greatest warlock in history. To them he was probably just a normal kid, like Harry Potter in the muggle world.

"I'm Hermione." Hermione began, accepting Arthur's outstretched hand as he helped her to her feet. She needed to come up with a story, and fast.

Just as she was contemplating this, Merlin interjected, "Oh, Hermione!" A look of relief washed over his face, "my mother told me you were coming to Camelot, but not so soon!"

"H-huh?" Hermione managed, startled, was he covering for her?

"You should come with us back to Camelot," Merlin said, determinately. It seemed more of an order than a request.

"You know her?" Arthur questioned with a bit of doubt.
"Yes. Well no." Merlin shrugged, "my mother does, she's my…cousin. My mom told me she was coming to visit me and my uncle in Camelot. But this is the first time we've met each other. Pleased to meet you, Hermione." He extended a slender hand, Hermione shook it, tentatively, while in her mind she marveled that she herself was shaking the hand of the greatest wizard of all time!

Arthur looked between the two of them, not quite understanding the look that Merlin was giving the girl. Arthur told himself to ignore it; Merlin was probably still just a little stunned from everything that had happened that day. The look he was giving the girl... he probably didn't intend for it to look commanding, it was just an accident that happened to play across his features in his state of confusion. Arthur looked towards the sky and the sun was almost set. It would be dark soon and he'd rather not be in this part of the woods at night, especially after what had just happened to Merlin.

"Well come on then," Arthur gestured to Merlin and the girl, "off to Camelot." As they walked the prince introduced himself, but was surprised to see that the girl was not very shocked at his name or rank. But rather, she seemed more puzzled by Merlin's position as Arthur's servant.

"Merlin – he's your servant?" The girl asked, complete bewilderment apparent in her voice. The prince could not fathom why she thought that was odd.

"Yup." Merlin sighed, "it's quite a pain to be the servant of the royal prat." Merlin whispered towards Hermione, knowing that Arthur would still be able to hear. Arthur merely laughed. This exchange was even stranger to Hermione; this sort of relationship between the men was never indicated in the old Arthurian myths. She'd assumed those myths were actually histories – converted to myth status for the benefit of the muggle world, but perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps the Arthurian legend did not unfold as described in the many books she read. Hermione needed to find out what was real, what was right – in order to ensure that she did not interrupt the space-time continuum.

Clearly parts of the myth were correct, as Prince Arthur and Merlin did exist, but Hermione could be sure of very little else. Furthermore, Merlin did not act like the greatest sorcerer in history. In fact, he was just a servant! Perhaps he has not yet discovered his powers? Hermione shook that theory off, even she, an average witch was aware of her powers at a very young age. Why then, Hermione wondered, did he not use his powers? The prince was constantly heckling him about his clumsiness, as he was doing now, when Merlin needn't deal with such taunts. The Merlin of the legends had the most fantastic abilities; he could not be lowered into a servant or an object of the prince's jest. Hermione concluded that there was something very different in reality about the presence of Merlin's powers – if he indeed had them he chose not to use them – or, perhaps, they were not all that impressive at this juncture in time. Hermione could not help but be saddened by that conjecture, she had wished to see Merlin's great magical ability, with the hopes that she might be able to burnish her own skill through her interactions with him.

When the castle of Camelot first came into view, Hermione sucked in a sharp breath, startled by the majestic sight. Merlin smiled at her, "it's quite impressive, I know. I felt that way too when I first saw it."

The three made their way through the gates and Hermione could not help but gape at the sights before her. The market stalls and hustle and bustle of the streets, the guards in their royal garb and the sounds of the medieval city – they all fascinated her – they were like nothing she had ever seen before.

However, it wasn't too long before she begun to notice the stares directed at her. She was hardly surprised, after all, her attire was from the future, and nothing of the sort had ever been created before. She needed to transfigure her clothes into something more appropriate of the time…but she needed to go somewhere to do it. But wait! Hermione thought, she's in Camelot. According to the myths, people used magic regularly in Camelot, didn't they? Hermione found herself wondering about this as she watched a maid lugging painfully at a large barrel, which suddenly fell into a large pothole and threatened to flail all of its contents – rice? – Into a thousand directions. Yet a second later the cart was upright again, none of its contents spilled. Hermione blinked, how did that happen? She was sure that it would fall…why hadn't it? Her thoughts turned to Merlin, had he stopped it with magic?

Merlin seemed to notice the quizzical look she gave him, "is something wrong, Hermione?" he asked as they passed through the gates into the castle.

"I just saw something that didn't seem possible, that's all." Hermione replied. Experimenting, she continued, "It was almost like magic."

At that word the prince spun rapidly towards the girl, stopping the three of them in their tracks. "I don't know how the rules are where you came from." Arthur addressed Hermione, "but here we do not speak of magic lest it be necessary. It would be a shame to spread false rumor about the evils of magic being practiced here again. " Arthur seemed to register the look of horror on Hermione's face, "I'm just saying, mind your words. Especially in the palace, I wouldn't want a pretty face like yours to end up on the end of a noose." Arthur swiftly turned away and began down a separate corridor, Hermione stared after him in shock.

"Have dinner ready for me at 6, Merlin." Arthur ordered with a small farewell hand gesture as he rounded a corner.

Hermione had barely registered his words when Merlin grasped her arm and dragged her into a small gully in the corridor, one she had not even noticed as they passed it. "What were you thinking?" Merlin questioned, a tad angrily, "mentioning magic in front of the Prince of Camelot. Do you want to be hanged?"

"H-Hanged?" Hermione barely managed, comprehension dawning. Magic was illegal. Magic was punishable by death.

A/N: Hey all! I hope you're enjoying this fic. Let me know if you have any ideas to improve it, grammatically or otherwise!