*~* Note: I decided to read some of the Merlin scripts to figure out what language they ACTUALLY use for the spells in the show, and it's often a mixture of Icelandic and Welsh, not Old English. So as of now those are the languages I'll be using for my spells. When I give you the English at the end, I'll put what language it is, and maybe even the pronounciation. For chapters 11/12 where I'm taking lots from the actual episodes I'm going to use *exactly* what Merlin uses, which often has a confusing and irrelevant translation, but I will always make sure you know what the spell does so you're never lost. *~*
When Hermione woke up the next morning she was immediately bombarded by all of the memories of the previous night, which were still fresh in her mind, and the disgruntling feeling that she had so much to plan, and so little time to do it in. Her brief fantasy escape to the land of dreams had finally ended, and all it did was prolong the inevitable. She reluctantly hopped out of her warm, white fluffy bed, and began to get dressed. Her enchanted alarm blared some tune or another, but she didn't bother to register it because she was too busy being angry at the world for her lack of sleep. With a lazy swish of her hand, it turned off and she put her shoes on and left for the kitchens.
One night's sleep, that's it. That's all I want.. She grumbled to herself as she made her way down the stairs and through the seemingly endless corridors to where the sounds of fires and other tired workers made themselves known. Upon arrival, she noticed that all the chefs, serving boys, bakers and butchers were either sleeping at their posts, warming themselves around a fire, or eating some of the assumedly enormous amounts of leftovers. She was glad that she wasn't the only one looking like they hadn't got near enough sleep last night. I guess after I left with Merlin, they all stayed behind to clean up and pack things away.. She made her way to her work table in the bakers section and pulled up a stool to join the siesta, but not before receiving a couple claps on the back and "good job"s by various people who had been part of her working masterpiece. As soon as she sat down, she began to think. She figured that there wasn't going to be much work today, as the leftover food could feed the kingdom twice over, but they had to remain on duty in case someone actually needed something, which was unlikely. Her suspicion was confirmed by Audrey, who found her only moments after her arrival and almost echoed Hermione's thoughts exactly. And then she remembered what Arthur had told her,
"Oh yes, and Audrey? Arthur extends his royal thanks on behalf of Uther and himself, and he wishes for everyone involved to know of his gratefulness. Apparently the celebration did wonders for Uther's psyche." Audrey smiled at her, and promised to relay the message. Hermione spent several hours nodding in and out of sleep, conversing with others about technique, and picking at various sweets. She was surprised at how good the sugar tarts were, but she concluded that she probably liked them best because the tray was within arm's reach. She had never felt more lazy in her entire life, after eating her fill for the fourth time that day and taking yet another nap at her table. She suddenly remembered all the food she was given the previous night, and decided that she would now give both boxes to Merlin and Gaius. At this rate she was going to be obese anyways.
But suddenly it got her thinking. She was relatively well rested now, and could think clearly about the task at hand. She thought over the things she had learned, and what she must do:
So.. I have to serve the next few months here. Uther has to die, somehow. Then I have to jump 3 years into the future, and help Arthur become king alongside Merlin. Then I have to bring Merlin into the future to help destroy Voldemort. Yeah.. no problem. Hermione yawned and scratched her head.
The day rolled on with little interruption. Merlin had come in two more times that day to grab Arthur's lunch and dinner, the preparation of which Hermione volunteered to do. At first she had treasured the peace and relaxation, but then she became unfathomably bored staying at her post doing nothing. When her shift had ended, Audrey didn't even bother to come find her, and for good reason. Not only had Hermione done little to no actual work, but she had been stuffing her face throughout the entire day. Workers mumbled their goodbyes and one by one trickled away from their posts to go be with friends and family for the rest of the evening. Hermione was about to walk back to her room when she remembered the food she was planning to give Merlin and Gaius. She quickly changed directions and sped up, hoping to catch the pair of them before they went through any trouble of cooking anything. She reached their door, and pulled out the boxes. She heated the food to a reasonable temperature and knocked on the door. Suddenly she thought,
I wonder if Merlin told Gaius of my magick? How could he not? Gaius knows Merlin is a warlock, so why shouldn't Gaius be trusted to know I'M a witch? If Merlin trusts Gaius I should as well. I wonder how much Merlin told him of what Kilgharrah said. I-
Her thoughts ran by in a blur, and they were left unfinished when Merlin opened the door and smiled at her casually, which was surprising for Hermione. Maybe he's more relaxed now that there are no secrets. Unlike most people, who just tense up and avoid you. She admired him for that, and she smiled back. He ushered her inside, and she immediately walked over and plopped the boxes down on the work table, her previous thought growing small in the back of her mind. She sighed in satisfaction and turned around to meet Merlin's penetrating gaze. He looked mostly curious, but a little concerned.
"It's food Merlin." She smiled, and he relaxed. "What'd you think it was?" Hermione giggled.
"Knowing you? Some small mythological creature that you've kidnapped and brought here to show me." Merlin deadpanned. But he meant it. Hermione laughed and opened one of the boxes to prove it was food, and as promised, it was full of cakes and pastries, with a small jar of jam. Hermione had never actually opened the boxes but she could judge by the smell what was inside. Merlin stared into the box longingly, and when Hermione shut the lid he looked up like he had just come back from another world. It reminded Hermione so much of Ron it was uncanny.
Ron..
A sudden thwart of pleasant and sour memories alike flowed through Hermione's conscious in a matter of seconds, briefly reminding her of everything and everyone she was fighting for, and fighting against. All of her friends and loved ones back home, and more recently, Hermione and Harry's search for Voldemort's final horcruxes.. After Ron had left Hermione didn't know what to feel. She cared for him very much, but he was so reckless and selfish. It was hard to determine what part of her loved him like a friend, and what part loved him more than that. Hermione was naturally optimistic, and she was having a hard time discerning if she was just making something grand out of mediocre feelings of attraction. The human mind does that, when it's desperate. She wasn't even sure he was capable of the immense depth and intellectual romance that was part of being in love, or at least part of what she thought love should be like..
Hermione slowly dragged herself out of her daze to find Merlin looking at her intently. He knew she was off somewhere else, but he couldn't help but be worried for her when her eyes began to reflect a deep sadness within. He really wanted to cheer her up, but he wasn't sure how.
Was it something I did? He thought curiously. She met his stare, and refused to let go. Her eyes began to glaze over as if she was about to cry, but she never came to it. It never became anything more than a glossy sheen, the only evidence of her personal struggle for understanding. Merlin was starting to see a new side to Hermione, the crumbling one. The one who clearly never let herself cry when she needed to, and the one who's spent many years bottling away her feelings. He slowly reached out for her hands, never breaking their eye contact. He delicately took her hands, and her fingers curled against his palm.
Merlin studied palmistry briefly with Gaius once in his free time, and learned that if someone's hands curl naturally while they're resting, the person has a more defensive, inward personality. Hermione appeared to be one of those people. Merlin was surprised at his own observation, having not normally been so attentive to body language, especially something so minor. He smiled, more to himself than anyone, but let his happiness radiate towards Hermione. She half smiled back, and not a moment later, Gaius knocked open the door, and waddled in, his hands carrying multiple baskets of mixed plants and various other things. Merlin and Hermione dropped each other's hands instantly, and turned to observe Gaius before going to help him with his things.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything." He chortled. Neither of the pair spoke as they carried the baskets to Gaius' work bench. He looked at them with his judging glare, with one eyebrow just slightly raised. "Well?" He asked. Merlin's eyes darted around the room.
"Uh, Hermione brought us food." Hermione laughed. That would be the first thing he'd bring up. Hermione's happiness was always contagious and soon everything began to run smoothly again. Merlin and Gaius ate, and Hermione adamantly refused their offers, having already eaten enough for a family of five. Conversation stayed light, as it should be when one is eating. But afterwards Gaius did not hesitate to bring up the inevitable.
"Merlin told me about your.. experience last night, and who and what you really are." His accusatory words betrayed his pleasant tone of voice. Hermione was honestly a little confused with the gesture. "It's not every day a time-traveling witch shows up in Camelot."
"I should remind you it was purely by accident." She said with a smile, although she couldn't imagine it being any other way.
Gaius inquired on a few more things, mostly confirming as he doubted Merlin's credibility. Gaius seemed a lot less distraught than Merlin did when he found out.
He couldn't have known for that long. Then again, Merlin's a lot younger than Gaius. A lot less experienced with these things. Hermione smiled inwardly. Not for long, I guess. I keep forgetting that he's a soon-to-be medieval celebrity.
"So how does the magick work, from your time that is?" Gaius suddenly inquired.
"That depends, how does yours work?"
Gaius looked at Merlin and grinned, before standing up and walking over to the water pale by the work bench and dipped a cup in to fill it. He set it on the edge of the table and stood there.
"Magick here is completely internal, you're either born with it or you're not, and you channel it through your dominant hand." He smacked the cup off the edge of table without warning. Merlin jerked his hand up automatically and shouted,
"Hætta hreyfingu!" His eyes burnt an amber-orange, like hot coals in a campfire. A colour she'd only seen one other place. The water stopped mid-air, with many little drops individually suspended like small crystal orbs.
"Just like Kilgharrah!" Hermione said, surprised.
"His eyes may appear like Kilgharrah's, but since magick itself was given to us by the dragons, the colour is only borrowed. Dragons are the epitome of unadulterated and unrestrained magick. Sorcerers and Warlocks are only funnels for dragon magick, and those who are worthy and capable of withstanding its force are born with the ability to play vassal to it. Except for one race…" Gaius glanced at Merlin apprehensively, who was still focusing intently upon the floating water droplets, and trying to keep them suspended. "The Dragonlords. Adopted brothers of the dragons themselves, they are born with the ability to support their own magick. And since they are more than just a funnel, they can use their magick to sense other magickal creatures nearby, and they share a special connection to the dragons." Gaius paused briefly. Merlin was looking up at him now, and his head was cocked slightly. His eyes still shone gold as he held the suspension spell, which gave him an eerie appeal. "The Dragonlords are said to be able to speak in native dragon tongue, allowing them to communicate on a more personal level, which can will a dragon to as he wishes.. This power is not granted to all who are born within the family, for all Dragonlords are to be the eldest male. Only when the previous Dragonlord is deceased does his heir inherit the ability to speak and influence the Great Ones." Gaius seemed lost in thought for a moment.
"Merlin, you may release that now."
"Halda áfram hreyfingu." Merlin muttered. Gaius had grabbed the cup out of the air, but the water splashed to the ground. There was a moment of silence as Hermione thought over what she had just learned, and how she was going to represent her magickal community in her demonstration. Merlin seemed lost in thought as well, but for a different reason.
"That's extremely fascinating; I have to say it was not what I was expecting." Hermione said, quite pleased with her new information.
"I guess it's your turn now then." Merlin smiled simply at her. Hermione rubbed her chin and puckered her face, thinking of a more harmless spell to show them.
Of course! She thought. She pulled out her bag and whispered "Accio." Her wand jumped out of the little pouch, and directly into her hand. "Our magick is channeled through wands, which I guess you could say are like an extention of one's dominant hand. Wands have living cores, and they choose their own masters. Once they pledge their allegiance, it is unlikely for them to change or betray it. Wizards from my time can cast wandless and wordless magick, but it is far more difficult, and one of the hardest things to master. Magick is always within the user as far as any one is concerned, because dragons from my time can't necessarily cast magick, despite being magickal creatures." She couldn't help but smile as she casted her spell for them.
"Expecto Patronum!" She chirped. She had clamped her eyes shut and smiled, thinking of a fun memory with her mom and dad. She could feel the chilling Patronus slip out from between her fingers, into her wand and out into the room. She noted that it took quite a substantial amount of energy to cast it, more so than back at home. She opened her eyes and laughed as her little fog-coloured otter danced around her, Merlin, and Gaius. It bounced off the ceiling and walls, leaving a little white trail behind it that resembled party streamers, but in only one colour. The otter then conceded to rolling onto its back and 'floating' around her in circles. She kept the happy memory rolling, feeding into the pleasure of remembering her family. She fed the happiness to her Patronus, which wiggled around in reply. Merlin seemed utterly shocked, but he was obviously enjoying it.
"Wh-what does it do?" Merlin stuttered.
"It keeps away dementors. They're these soul-sucking, faceless demons that guard the cells at Azkaban Prison." She recalled.
"Prison?"
"It's like a dungeon, but bigger, and above ground."
"Oh.." There was an awkward silence for half a second before Hermione remembered a news-clipping she had kept and used as a book mark when the major Azkaban break-out happened. She pulled her beaded bag from her pocket and stuck her arm in shoulder deep and rooted around for a second before pulling out an old book. She pulled out the old black and white moving photograph and handed it to Merlin.
"Wh-?! It's a moving.. image.. on parchment!" Merlin was tripping over the new information. Hermione's slapped her palm to her forehead.
"It's called a photograph, in the wizarding world, photographs move.. Oh good lord you have so much to learn."
Merlin looked up at her and smiled brightly. For the first time, he seemed to acknowledge the actual thing in the photo.
"That's a strange castle."
"Well.. It's not really a castle. It's a place for insane murders. Most things aren't made out of that much stone in my time." Hermione admitted, much to Merlin's surprise.
"Oh so a lot of things are made out of wood?" He replied.
"Mostly metal."
"What?"
"Never mind.."
The night rolled on, and Merlin, Hermione, and Gaius continued to discuss spells, fighting tactics, potions, and everything else that Hermione loved, which is pretty much everything academic. Merlin couldn't seem to let go of Hermione's "Otter that was made out of mist." And he insisted that he try the spell himself to see if he could get one. Hermione tried to explain that the animal was different for everyone, but that only increased his curiosity. Much to Merlin's disappointment though, every time he tried to cast the spell, a little white puff would shoot out from the palm of his hand, but not much else would happen. Hermione thought it would be one of two things: One, he needed a wand. Two, it was something to do with Merlin's unique magick, and the different time zones not allowing him to cast future magick in the past. The only reason Hermione could was because she was born of that time. She promised to keep trying to help him though, as he would need to learn the spell anyways if he was going to confront Voldemort and his many minions with her.
At an ungodly hour at night, Hermione was forced to make her way back to her quarters, where she crashed immediately, barely making it to the bed.
I really need to stop doing this. She thought grimly as her thoughts faded away into blackness.
Spells: (Icelandic) (Word of note to you all, Merlin can actually cast these spells wordlessly, he's just using them to prove a point.)
"Hætta hreyfingu!" Cease movement! (Pronunciation is almost always single R rolls, which is just one extra flick of the tongue, no hard R sounds. "æ" sounds like "ay" or "eh". F sounds are weak and slurred. The first syllable is the only stressed one for all the words in the spells in the chapter.)
"Halda áfram hreyfingu." Continue movement.
Actual spell usage may become a rare thing for me, unless it enhances or is necessary to the story. HP spells will be more frequent because they don't require a translation. (Unless they're one-timers from the book and I feel the need to mention them.)
Review Q/A:
Don-V: I think this chapter should satisfy a lot of the jittery curiosity :P The reason I tried to make Hermione so stern and seemingly careless about Merlin's "crush" is because a lot of fanfics I've read make Hermione into a big wimpo cry-baby. Which I hate beyond all else. She actually is quite collected and understanding. Also Merlin hasn't done much in the way of fawning over her, and I'm trying to not turn Hermione into a cronic over-thinker. Alternatively, psychologically, when some people have a hard time dealing with a potential reality, they often resort to trying to "laugh it off" or make a joke out of it. Hermione's a little hysterical, and I tried to incorporate that into the story. (:
rockerbaby: Thanks bro! That comment about me having good timing really hit me. I want to make the story really complex, therefore I can't afford to drag the little stuff out. Guess it was a wise choice on my part (: I can't believe it hasn't gotten more reviews either! XD Kidding. My opening chapters suck shit. People read them and they're like.. "Uh, no." But hey, I have hope. Lookin' forward to your future reviews.
