Trigger Warning: Explicit violence and torture scene at the beginning. Hermione is also almost raped by Fenrir Greyback, so if that is upsetting to you, feel free to skip the first section.

Author's Note at the end.

Chapter One: In Which Hermione Breaks Multiple Laws at the Same Time

Hermione had never been this scared in her life, except maybe when facing the troll back in her first year of Hogwarts. After that, she had vowed never to be unprepared for anything. She'd lock herself in the library for hours, researching about everything she thought might be useful.

Thanks to that industriousness, she was able to keep Harry, Ron and herself alive and well for most of their Hogwarts careers. Now, however, knowledge wasn't going to help her. Instead, the knowledge of what was to come froze the blood in her veins, and she couldn't help the tremors that cursed through her body. Alone with Bellatrix, a woman who was known for her insanity, in an isolated mansion that only her enemies could locate, she'd begun to tremble even before the witch said "Crucio". Harry and Ron were locked in the cellar, and she knew that by the time they'd free themselves –because she knew they would– she'd be dead.

At the end of her torture, Bellatrix's carved Mudblood on her skin to remind her that, despite being intelligent and resourceful, to a certain number of people in the Wizarding World she would never truly belong. The blade burned like metal left on the fire too long, and Hermione screamed her throat raw. And when Bellatrix was done, she'd given Fenrir Greyback green light to do with her whatever he wanted.

Fenrir Greyback leered at her all night since Hermione arrived. She had hoped that by the time he got her, the Cruciatus curse would have driven her insane. She had hoped to be dead by the time he would use her. Yet, destiny wasn't as sweet nor as forgiving. He walked slowly towards her, and she trembled. Whether out of the aftereffects of the curse or sheer terror didn't matter. Greyback licked his lips and popped his fingers. Hermione's eyes pulled with tears. She tried to back away from him, but her arms didn't support her weight and she could barely move. He seemed to enjoy her futile attempts to get away from him, defenseless, wandless. She couldn't breathe.

This, she felt, would be the last night of her life.

She rolled on her stomach, hoping that would give her legs more leverage to get away, when she heard the clink of metal on marble. She looked down and noticed the time turner. She took it from the Department of Mysteries right before they got destroyed. That was her best kept secret, her last resort.

She grasped it with trembling hands and started spinning it.

One time, for one hour.

Two times, for two.

Three times for three.

Where were they three hours ago? She needed to be able to get into the mansion to save Harry, Ron and Herself.

Four times just in case.

She gasped when big hands grabbed her waist and turned her over and three things happened at the same time.

First, Hermione let go of the dial and time started to blur around her.

Two, Greyback attempted to snatch it back so she moved it out of his reach.

Three, Bellatrix aimed a Cruciatus curse at her but, instead, it hit the time turner.

Because of her extensive use of a time-turner in her third year, she could tell that this particular trip to the past was not normal. While she feared for her existence, she'd take whatever time threw at her if it got her away from Fenrir Greyback.

Time warped around her and for a moment the air was sucked out of her. Then she felt suspended in the air, floating in the time vortex that had been unwittingly opened. The sensation lasted only a few seconds before she fell on leaf-covered ground with a thud that made her lose what little air she'd managed to gasp in.

Her head spin, and she saw white spots. She heard a growl and realized much to her chagrin that Greyback had come with her to wherever… whenever she'd traveled to, and she tried to scoot away but he pulled her shirt, ripping it. She tried to scream, but there was no air in her lungs. She was going to pass out. She flailed, and her foot connected with something solid, and she used those stolen seconds to scoot back as far as she could, which wasn't much.

She gulped a mouthful of air, and screamed her throat raw.

Her scream was cut by Greyback who gripped her neck, and she knew without a doubt he would snap it.

However, in the new silence, she could hear men yelling and metal scraping. She saw blurred shapes of red surrounding her and the psychopathic werewolf, and she hoped that these men were friends rather than foes. Her vision started to fade to black, and the hand with which she was feebly trying to loosen Greyback's hold fell limp to her side. A lone tear slid down her cheek.

The last thing she heard was Greyback roar.

Consciousness came slowly to Hermione. At first, it felt like she was on a boat, rocking to the ocean waves. It reminded her of her parents, all the way in Australia, oblivious to the fact they ever had a daughter. Gradually, the ocean waves were replaced by something solid under her, and the aches in her body reminded her of what she'd been through a few hours ago...

How was she still alive?

Her head throbbed. She scrunched up her eyes, trying to will it away, and her hand twitched. She heard a rustle, and a hand suddenly enveloped her own.

"Gaius, I think she's waking up," a male voice said close to her. She figured he must be the one holding his hand.

She heard a clank, a rustle of fabric, and steps flapping on stone.

"Miss?" another male voice, but much older. Reminded her a little bit of Dumbledore.

She tried to speak, but her throat hurt and she started to cough instead.

"Bring her some water," the older voice said in a commanding tone. Gentle arms helped her sit up somewhat, and soon she felt something press against her lips. She closed her mouth on instinct, the way she, Harry and Ron had discussed they'd do if they were ever captured.

"It's okay, you're safe," the younger voice coaxed, again pressing against her lips, "it's just water."

Hermione's throat felt raw, it hurt to move her neck, and her mouth felt like parchment. She slowly opened her lips just a slit, enough to clamp up again and spit if needed. Much to her relieve, she tasted fresh water, and her whole body seemed to relax a notch.

"Good job," the younger voice said, and Hermione wanted to tell him she wasn't a child.

She opened her eyes as much as she could then, wanting to know who were these kind people helping her. Much to her surprise, she saw a teenager. Scrawny, hair nearly as untamable as Harry's, wearing a very peculiar blue shirt and red neckerchief. Other features were obscured, for the dark room was barely lit by a candle nearby and nothing else. He smiled at her, and she tried to smile back.

"Miss, what is your name?" the elderly voice called out from behind her and she realized that the old man must have been holding her upright.

"Hermione," she answered, and her throat burned.

"Miss Hermione, my name is Gaius and I'm the Court Physician of Camelot. What is the last things you remember?" the older man asked her.

"And who was the man attacking you?" the young one piped in.

"Merlin, give her time," the older man chastised while Hermione's head reeled.

Camelot? As in... Oh... no. No, no, no... What had she done?

"Miss Hermione?" the old man, Gaius, asked again, and Hermione had to fight agains the fog in her head and the dread in her stomach.

"I was attacked," she attempted to say, but her tongue felt heavy and her neck muscles hurt with the effort. She winced.

"We figured as much. What we want to know is why," the teen, Merlin, said but Hermione glared at him through half closed eyes. She wasn't in the mood to deal with any sort of sass from anyone. He raised his hands in the universal sign of surrender, "okay, okay, later then."

"We should let you rest, Miss Hermione," the old man said and laid her back down on what she assumed was a cot. She rolled her eyes.

The old man then proceeded to blow out the candle and Hermione, despite her discovery, found it surprisingly easy to fall asleep again.

Hermione was back at Malfoy Manor, and Bellatrix was looking at her with a wicked gleam in her eyes. Her blade glistened with blood, and Bellatrix licked it from the knife. Then, Fenrir Greyback crawled to her in all fours, like the animal he was, and bared his fangs at her. She tried to scoot back, but her hands were chained to the floor. To the side, she heard Harry and Ron screaming her name, but she couldn't take her eyes off of Greyback, who pounced on her exposed neck.

Hermione woke up screaming and her abused throat reminded her why that was such a bad idea. She sat up and touched her neck, which hurt a lot but wasn't bleeding. She looked at her arm and noticed a white bandage where the wound Bellatrix carved was supposed to be. She felt someone touch her arm and, on instinct, she let her fist fly. It hit her mark on a cheekbone, and the victim of her left hook fell to the floor.

Hermione cradled her now-bruised knuckles close to her chest, as if she needed any other injury really, and she looked at the downed man. Much to her surprise, and embarrassment, she realized that she punched the teenager who had been helping her. She noticed that the room was bathed in a soft, golden light and deduced it must be morning.

"I'm so sorry," she croaked, glad that at least she could make herself understood even if it still hurt to talk.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have startled you," the teen answered. He stood up, cradling his cheek in his hand, "you have a strong arm."

Hermione snorted. "I don't think I know your name."

"Merlin. I was with the knights who found you in the woods." He sat back on the stool.

"Merlin?" Hermione repeated, thinking that perhaps she didn't hear correctly.

"As far as I know, yes," the teen repeated, chuckling.

"And you were with the knights who found me..."

Merlin nodded.

"because we are in Camelot."

"That's right. Where are you from?"

Hermione found her voice stuck in her throat for reasons unrelated to her injuries. This couldn't be happening. There had to be a way to fix this disaster. The time turner, of course! She patted her chest and didn't find the golden chain hanging from its usual place. In fact, she wasn't wearing any of her own clothes.

"Where are my clothes?" she blurted out.

Melin blushed, "They were unsuitable to be worn again, so one of the maids dressed you in her own clothes."

Oh, well, Hermione supposed wearing jeans in ancient Camelot wouldn't be very appropriate.

"I had a necklace around my neck," Hermione then said, "I can't find it."

"It's here," Merlin said and walked to the other side of the room, bringing back the broken chain and pieces of glass of what used to be the time turner. The sand was gone. Hermione's heart sank, but Merlin interpreted her expression differently, "I'm sorry. I'm sure we could find a jeweler in the citadel who could fix it."

"No, it's okay, it's just... it was special to me, that's all," she said and took the chain from him.

"I'm sure it must be very hard for you to be so far from home. How did you get here?" Merlin asked.

"I'm not supposed to be here," Hermione said instead, hoping Merlin wouldn't press the issue.

"Gaius wants to know how to notify your family, they must be worried," Merlin pressed the issue, "also, the king would like to know who was the man who attacked you to see if he's should send a search party out to the woods again."

"No!" Hermione exclaimed and her throat burned, causing her to delve into a fit of coughs. Merlin jumped, a bit startled by the vehemence of her statement while rushing to get her some water. After Hermione drank, she explained, "I don't want to talk to the king. I'm not supposed to be here at all."

"Don't you want to let your family know...?" Merlin started, confused by her denial, but Hermione interrupted him.

"My family is dead," Hermione blurted, staring at her lap. It wasn't entirely a lie. Her parents would never remember her, and her two best friends were far from her reach. In Camelot, her family was dead.

"What happened?" Merlin asked.

"We were traveling when we were attacked. They were killed."

"Were they killed by the man who attacked you?"

"That… man kidnapped me. He wanted… he wanted to…" she choked up and had to stop talking as the memories of what had happened flashed in front of her eyes.

Merlin took her hand in a comforting gesture, "You're safe now. I'm sure the king won't mind employing you in the palace."

"No, I can't stay here," Hermione said, wiping her tears.

"Why? You're going to be safe here." Merlin argued.

"Because," Hermione said, and she knew it was a bad argument, but she couldn't really tell him that she was from the future. Even if he was the Merlin, it could change the course of history and Hermione couldn't let herself slip.

Just then, the door burst open. Hermione jumped and Merlin groaned.

"Merlin!" a male voice yelled, "if I discover you neglected your duties because you were in the tavern again, I swear–"

Hermione stared at the blond man who was just leaving his teenage years behind as he strode into the room, his head turning as he looked the room for the man in question. He did a double take when he noticed Hermione staring at him with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. She looked at Merlin, and caught him trying to stifle his laugh.

"What's so funny Merlin?" the blonde man asked, albeit his cheeks were a little red, "Do you fancy cleaning horse dung for the rest of the week?"

"I'm sorry, sire," Merlin said even though he didn't look sorry in the least, "I was tending to Miss Hermione who just woke up."

The blond man straightened his back, jutted his chin out and furrowed his brow ever so slightly. "My father would like to offer the assistance and shelter of Camelot if you need it. He would like to see you when you feel better. Merlin," the man jerked his head in the direction of the door and left. Merlin sighed.

"His pratiness calls," he whispered, and Hermione couldn't help but smile a bit. She didn't have to think hard to know who that blond man was. However, she had one more question to ask.

"Merlin," he turned towards her, "what happened to… that man?"

"He's dead."

A chill ran down Hermione's spine. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Merlin answered with a frown, "why?"

"That man was not just a man. He's cursed to turn into a vicious beast on the full moon, a werewolf. Where I'm from, he's known for taking maidens against their will to…" Hermione gulped, "that's why he took me."

"Merlin!" a voice yelled from outside.

Merlin, wide eyed, sputtered, "I need to go. I'll see you later," before rushing out of the room pale as a ghost.

As soon as Merlin left, Hermione exhaled, glad to have a moment to gather her thoughts.

She was in Camelot. While the opportunity to learn magic from Merlin himself would be a dream come true, Hermione wasn't stupid enough to believe her fall through time wouldn't cause ripples. It also looked like Merlin was young, so anything she said, or did, could undo history as she knew it. The consequences could be... unthinkable.

On top of that, Fenrir Greyback came back in time with her, and she could only hope he was really dead. While she didn't know a lot about medieval England, she was pretty sure that were-wolfs didn't arrive on the British Isles until the invasion of the French by William the Conqueror. It was too soon, and she dreaded to think the king of damage someone like him could wreck on medieval society.

Then there was the time traveling issue, which Dumbledore had extensively warned her against. People had gone mad going back in time, others had been ripped apart by the magic while others died a slow and painful dead. And if she somehow survived her stay in the past and managed to get back to the future, she'd die within the hour.

She didn't know what to do.

And what about Harry and Ron? Were they still trapped in the cellar of Malfoy Manor? Was Malfoy Manor even still standing? Where they alive or had she already changed enough that their existence was errased?

Tears came to her eyes, and she let them fall, unbidden. She hugged her knees to her chest despite her body's protests, and she sobbed for what felt like hours. She startled when the door slammed open and Gaius came in followed by a frantic Merlin. They were whispering back and forth with grim faces.

Gaius was the first to notice her and he seemed surprise to see her awake. He approached her slowly with a cup of water, which made a stark constrant against the urgency of his next words.

"Miss Hermione, I'm glad to see you're awake," he said, and gave her the water, which she gratefully took. He sat down in front of her on a stool, "are you feeling well enough to answer some questions?"

Hermione wanted to refuse, but the worry in Gaius's eyes compelled her to say yes. She didn't want to leave these people to clear her messes.

Gaius, visibly relieved, didn't miss a bit, "Merlin tells me that you think the man who attacked you is a werewolf."

"I know he is a werewolf," Hermione assured, not liking where the questioning was going.

"That's not possible, my dear," Gaius said, trying to sound reassuring but, instead, sounding condescending. Hermione felt immediately irritated, "werewolfs are extremely rare, and most of their sightings have been on the continent, not here."

Hermione cleared her throat and licked her lips. How could she get him to understand? She spoke clearly even if it hurt.

"I understand where you're coming from, but I'm not from here. I'm not supposed to be here at all, and I'm not quite sure how I got to Camelot. What I do know is that that man is a werewolf who revels in the curse and uses it to harm other people. Please, don't wait until the full moon because then it would be too late."

Gaius blinked, as if taken aback by what she said. Merlin, next to her, was also looking at her with thinly veiled suspicion.

"How did you get here, you said?" Gaius asked.

"I'd rather not say," Hermione replied.

"Do you have magic?" Gaius asked, rather direct, and Hermione was torn. On the one hand, if he was Merlin's mentor, he had to have magic, didn't he? Then again, was he Merlin's mentor? She didn't want to give away too much about herself, either. It could prove useful to have an ace under her sleeve. Gaius seemed to interpret her silence as assent, for he nodded and said:

"Sometimes, in times of high stress, magic will attempt to protect the caster by transporting them to a safer place."

"He latched onto me," Hermione said with tears in her eyes, her guilt shining through, "I didn't mean to bring him here."

"It's not your fault, but I do thank you for this information. Do try not to divulge it," Gaius warned.

Not that Hermione would do it, but the statement puzzled her, "Why?"

"Well, it was clear before you weren't from around here, but still, you surely must have heard about Camelot before," Gaius prompted.

"Of course I've heard about Camelot," Hermione scoffed, biting her tongue to stop herself from spilling everything she knew about the Arthurian legends, which in all honesty, didn't seem to be that accurate. It still didn't explain why she should keep her magic a secret. Wasn't magic commonly practiced in Camelot back in the day, even in front of muggles? Gaius sighed.

"My dear, you are in Camelot," he explained, as if she was a particularly dull five-year-old, and then he lowered his voice, "where magic is illegal."

Hermione's eyes went wide, and in her shock, she couldn't stop her mouth, "Then why are you here?" she asked, turning to Merlin.

Gaius previous cautious-yet-gentle demeanor suddenly became defensive. Merlin himself stiffened.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Gaius asked, with an edge to his eyes that wasn't there before.

Hermione realized that she probably shouldn't have known that, and she scrambled for an answer.

"Nothing," was her quick, unconvincing reply, "I meant…" she stammered.

"How did you know?" Merlin asked then, earning a scolding from Gaius.

"Merlin!"

"I saw you in the woods, when you rescued me,before I fainted, " Hermione lied, hoping they believed her. Based on the skeptical looks she was receiving, she wasn't fooling anyone, "it doesn't matter how I know, not really. You must believe that I mean you no harm and that I will protect his secret as if it was my own."

"I will hold you to that," Gaius said, and Merlin sagged a bit in relief, too trusting for his own good.

"In any case, Greyback was a werewolf and he was extremely dangerous," Hermione said trying to steer the conversation away from her.

"But he's still a man," Merlin intervened, "surely there must be a way to break the curse."

Hermione remembered professor Lupin and her heart ached. He was a good man cursed to become a monster. She had to push that thought aside, though, because Fenrir Greyback was nothing like Remus Lupin.

She replied, "There isn't. And even if there was, Greyback was a vicious murderer since before he got cursed. Now, he uses his curse as a weapon, and he must be stopped."

"You keep calling him Greyback," Gaius noted.

"That's his name," Hermione answered.

Gaius hummed, "An unusual name. Where did you say you were from, dear?"

Hermione panicked. She didn't have a cover story yet; at least none that would be convincing. She decided not to answer at all even though it made her look more suspicious, if only because she was scared to put her foot in her mouth again and reveal something she shouldn't. Gaius narrowed his eyes at her.

"Merlin, tell Arthur what we've discovered," Gaius said, clearly dismissing the boy who hurried along after one long look at Hermione. When they were alone, Gaius crossed his arms over his chest.

"What are your intentions towards this kingdom?" Gaius asked.

Hermione vehemently shook her head, "I didn't want to come here. I wanted to go somewhere else, but something went wrong."

"The king wants to speak to you, and you better have a convincing story to tell him," Gaius continued,

"Why are you helping me?" Hermione asked, suddenly suspicious herself.

"I believe that your magic brought you here by accident, so you really don't want to be here. Yet, here you are, and now you must learn how make the best of this situation. If your magic brought you here by accident, the probabilities of you replicating that effect to go back home are nearly null," Gaius explained in a whisper.

Hermione felt touched by his concern, but she couldn't help but feel that it was misplaced. Gaius continued, unaware of her inner turmoil.

"You could say you were traveling from the continent," Gaius suggested.

"And then what? What would my business have been here?" Hermione asked, not bothering to hide her disagreement.

"You could say you have relatives here."

"But I don't. My family is dead. We were attacked, and they were killed."

"If you think that will satisfy the king, you are mistaken," Gaius retorted, clearly baiting for more information.

Hermione stayed silent, thinking. "How about, that man had a grudge against my family, so we were running away from him?"

"That doesn't answer where you're from."

"It doesn't matter. If I tell the king that my family has been on the run from this man since I can remember, it implies we never stayed in one place for long. I could be from the continent or I could not. It doesn't matter."

Gaius hummed in agreement, "It needs more work, but it will do. Hopefully that will be enough to keep you alive."

Hermione gulped, "What do you mean?"

"Uther's punishment for practicing sorcery and enchantments is death at the pyre," Gaius replied, before standing up to continue the potions he'd neglected all morning, leaving Hermione paralyzed with fear.

Near dusk, Merlin barged into the physician's chambers, covered in mud, grime and leaves. Hermione immediately felt as if she was watching Harry after a tough Quidditch practice with Wood running them to the ground. Her heart ached. She missed Harry, and she missed Ron. She closed her eyes when he turned towards her, hoping to fool him into thinking she was asleep. She heard a thud, and assumed Merlin sat down.

"How is she?" Merlin asked Gaius in a whisper, clearly believing she was asleep.

"I want to say she's disturbed," crazy, you mean, Hermione thought bitterly, "but her eyes are too clear, her mind too sharp. She's keeping secrets."

"That doesn't mean she's evil, though," Merlin countered.

"Since when do powerful sorceresses come to Camelot without evil intentions, Merlin?"

"Technically, we brought her here because she was injured."

"It could have been a ruse. For all we know, she might have staged her attack with that man."

"Then why would she want him dead?"

"It isn't uncommon for ruffians to turn against each other."

A sigh, though Hermione couldn't tell who it belonged to.

"Speaking of that man," Gaius continued, "what did you find at the site?"

"Nothing but a pool of blood, Gaius. Then, we spent the rest of the afternoon following the trail, hoping to find dismembered parts strewn around by wolves, but there was no such thing. The trail vanished, and we have no evidence that the man died, nor that he's still alive."

Another sigh, this time clearly Gaius's, "If what she says is true, then the people of Camelot are in grave danger. The fool moon is in a week."

"But why didn't he die? I saw the knights stab him; Arthur himself impaled him through the stomach."

"Because like all magical or cursed creatures, that which makes them stronger also helps them heal. I had heard only silver could kill a were-wolf, but the knights' swords are made of steel. It does seem to confirm what she told us, so she might be from the continent."

"Is she, though?"

"I don't know. The way she speaks… she doesn't have the usual accent people of the continent have when they speak our language. She seems to be educated and her hands aren't the rough hands of a peasant woman, even though she looks old enough to be working in the fields, or at least in a household."

"My mother taught me how to read," Merlin sounded indignant.

"But your hands are calloused from when you had to work bringing the harvest in," Gaius countered. There was a moment of silence where she could hear some scraping sounds.

"So you think she's a Lady?" Merlin asked, then.

"It would certainly explain a lot of things. Tomorrow you should go check the genealogies in the Archives."

"But Geoffrey hates me," Merlin whined.

"I'm sure he'll tolerate you for an afternoon. If she is from the people who defected to Brittany, no wonder she didn't want to come to Camelot," Gaius added, as in an afterthought.

"Arthur said the king wants to speak with her."

"I know, and I'm afraid she might not survive an interrogation," Gaius confessed, sounding genuinely concerned.

"What's her story?"

"She doesn't have one. She refused to tell me where she's from, or anything else other than her family was attacked and killed."

A scoff, "The king will never buy that."

"I know, but she seems adamant to keep her secrets."

"I don't blame her, Gaius. I don't know what I would have done if I had come to Camelot on my own. At least I have you."

"That's another thing that bothers me. She seems to know about your talents, my boy, and I must remind you to be careful."

"I didn't tell her."

"Then how did she find out?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen this woman in my life, and most of the time I've been with her, she's been unconscious. I didn't tell her."

They stopped speaking after that. Hermione heard some shuffling, and the door at the back of the room opening and closing, before the room was engulfed in deeper darkness as Gaius put out the candle and went to sleep on the cot in the furthest corner away from her. Hermione couldn't sleep, as she was mulling over her conversation. The only solution she could see was to leave.

Quietly, and willing herself to be silent and invisible, she tiptoed out of the room. She had no idea where she was going, and there were guards patrolling the grounds, but after roaming Hogwarts after hours with Harry and Ron, it was easy to bypass them. Soon, she realized she'd gotten lost.

Young witch, a voice said, and Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin. She crouched low, instead, and looked around to see who'd talked, only to find the corridor empty. Young witch, the voice called again, and Hermione felt something tugging at her magic. She realized it must have been someone with magic like herself, or like Merlin, but Gaius's words rang in her head.

Sorcerers didn't come to Camelot with good intentions.

Yet, she needed a way out, and this person could help her, so she followed the tug.

Much to her surprise, she seemed to be going deeper into the castle. She had to duck low a couple of times to avoid the guards, but she managed to avoid getting caught. She found herself in a subterranean cavern, and she cursed when she almost tripped on a step she couldn't see.

"Gosh, I wish there was some light in this place," she muttered, and instantly, a rush of heat enveloped her and a sphere of light appeared in front of her. She stared at it, and muttered "thanks, stranger." Whoever wanted her there wanted her badly.

She finally reached the final step and gaped at the huge cavern underneath the castle. She would have screamed when a dragon as big as the Horntail landed a mere few feet in front of her and regarded with almost human intelligence if her throat hadn't closed up with the sight.

"Very funny," she finally said when it looked like the dragon wasn't going to attack her, and after seeing the chain on its paw, "why don't you call your pet dragon back so we can talk?"

"I summoned you here, young witch," the dragon spoke, and Hermione rubbed her face.

"Of course dragons speak in medieval Camelot," she muttered darkly. The dragon didn't appear to hear her, as he continued speaking.

"You are out of your time, young witch, and even I cannot foresee the consequences of your actions," the dragon managed to sound patronizing and scolding at the same time, to which Hermione scoffed.

"You think I don't know that? You think I intended to come here? This is all a mistake and I don't know how to fix it," Hermione said, much to strung out to care she was, apparently, whining to a huge dragon that could eat her.

"You cannot," the dragon declared, "nothing in the world is powerful enough to send you back to your present, if it even exists anymore. As I said, even I can't foresee the consequences. Your mere presence here could affect the great destiny of Camelot."

"Believe me, I know. I don't want to be here in Camelot any more than you want me here. So, tell me, how do I leave this blasted castle and the city?"

The dragon eyed her with narrowed eyes in a way that unnerved her very much, but he finally answered, "Walk back the stone steps you came through and go to the dungeons. There you will find a similar stone tunnel that will lead you out of the castle and out of the citadel, into the forest. Your best hope would be to find a druid camp, where they could protect you and provide a cover story."

"Right, okay, thanks," Hermione said, intending to walk back, when she remembered the sphere of light still floating next to her, "you can undo this spell or whatever. I don't need it anymore."

At this, the dragon chuckled, "I didn't conjure that light, young witch. You did."

"I did?" Hermione asked, surprised, "but I don't have a wand."

"You'll realize that here magic is everywhere, young witch, and easily accessible to someone such as yourself."

Hermione's eyes lit up with excitement since discovering she was in Camelot. She turned to the ball of light, focused on it, and commanded it to turn off. To her delight, it disappeared, and she almost squealed in return.

"Thank you," she said sincerely to the dragon, "where I come from, dragons don't speak anymore."

"But there are more dragons, are there not? I'm not the last of my kind?"

"There's an entire reservation of dragons in Rumania, where they are protected," Hermione admitted.

"Then I can rest," the dragon replied, and with that, Hermione left the cavern.

It was surprisingly easy to get to the dungeons, but once she got there, she realized belatedly that they would be more guarded than the corridors. She needed a distraction. She grabbed a rock from the floor, and threw it to the other side of the corridor. It didn't make a loud noise, but it was loud enough to prompt some investigating, and the guards left, allowing her to walk into the dungeons. There, she found a group of four knights playing dice on the table.

Hermione wanted to say sleep, but what came out of her mouth was: "Swefe". Instantly, the knights' eyelids grew heavy and they fell asleep, one by one. This allowed her to make her way through the dungeons and out the tunnel the dragon told her about. She didn't realize it then, but her spell put everyone in the dungeons to sleep, including the prisoners, so her escape went unnoticed and cloaked by the night.

Hermione walked in the darkness all night. She was afraid of summoning the light again, afraid it would make her an easy target. She had no idea what a druid camp was, but she assumed they lived in the woods. If so, they were probably near a body of water. So, she walked. She had never wanted her beaded bag as much as she did at this moment, yet it was back in Malfoy Manor, if Malfoy Manor still existed. The dragon's words nagged at her conscience. What if she had destroyed the future already? Well, in that case, she would have ceased to exist, maybe…

Thinking of Time Travel and its consequences was giving her a headache. On top of that, she had no food nor water. Her clothes were too thin, unable to keep the chill out, and she was barefoot because who knows what happened to her shoes.

She walked for miles, refusing to stop.

As the first rays of the sun started turning the black into grey, she found herself near a stream. She almost cried in relief. She approached it and drank greedily, before putting her aching feet in it.

She grimaced. They were swollen with little cuts all over them, caked with dirt and blood. She put one foot in the water, and hissed in pain as the cold stream came in contact with her abused skin. She did her best to clean the wounds, but she had no antiseptic nor any way of dressing them. She stared at them through the water. She focused on the little wounds and on what she wanted them to do. She rubbed them with her hands, feeling warmth enveloping them, and when she looked, her feet were healed.

She exhaled, relieved.

"That's impressive healing magic," she heard a voice behind her, and startled. She turned to find an older man, wrinkled and grey haired, wearing a cloak around shoulders. He had a bucket, so she assumed he wanted to fetch water.

"Are you a druid?" she asked, in typical Hermione fashion.

"That depends on who's asking," the man replied, more cautious now.

"I need help. I have nowhere to go," Hermione said, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. He stared at her, before turning and gesturing for her to follow. She scampered after him.

"Where are you from?" the old man asked her.

"It doesn't matter," she replied, getting tired of that question.

"You come from the direction of Camelot," the druid said.

"I just escaped from there," Hermione replied.

"I didn't hear the bells," he commented.

"Nobody noticed, I guess."

"And what were you doing in Camelot? It's not safe for people like us."

"Nothing," Hermione replied, "I was attacked, and injured. The knights found me in the woods and brought me there."

The man hummed, "Interesting."

Soon they arrived at the druid camp. Hermione didn't know what she was expecting, but a set of tents around a campfire was not it. It strongly reminded her of the way native Americans used to live in the American plains. She saw some men bringing firewood, some women cooking over the fire, and some women kneading some king of dough.

An older man, much older than her escort, welcomed them.

"Iseldir, you were sent to bring water, but instead, you brought a nymph," the older man greeted them warmly. The compliment didn't go over Hermione's head, and she couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

Her escort, Iseldir, laughed. "I saw her healing some wounds on her feet by the river. She's escaped from Camelot."

The elder's eyes turned sympathetic, "Camelot is no place for us, my dear. What were you doing there?"

"I was attacked. The knights found me injured and brought me there, but I couldn't stay," Hermione said.

"You're not from around here. Tell me, are you from one of our brothers' camps?" the elder asked.

"No, sir. I come from a place where magic is permitted, which I realize now I took for granted. I can't go back, and I've nowhere else to go," Hermione tried to explain with a firm voice, but it came out choked as tears flooded her eyes.

"You are welcome here then, my dear. A few miles back you passed the border into Caerleon, so King Uther cannot harm you here."

"Thank you," Hermione bowed somewhat awkwardly, not knowing if a handshake would be appropriate.

"You can start helping with breakfast. And you, Iseldir, go and fetch us some water," the elder added with a chuckle.

Hermione did as she was told, hoping that somehow, far away from Camelot, she would be able to preserve as much of the present as she could.

Author's Note: Welcome to this new story. I have been a fan of Hermione travels back to Camelot for a while, but one of my pet peeves is that Hermione's presence doesn't seem to change anything. She just follows along Merlin and Arthur in their adventures in a retelling of the TV show in a way that it just rehashes the plot, which has a lot of inconsistencies. So here I am proving my two cents to the pool of Fanfictions like this.

Please share a comment; I love positive feedback. I'm trying to have as few inconsistencies in my own writing as possible, so if you see any feel free to point them out. I want there to be a pairing but as of yet it is not clear who will be paired with who. I have written five chapters already and I plan to upload at least once a week, so hopefully I'll be able to keep up a regular update schedule. I'm not sure what day of the week, though.

Until we meet again,

Clear Eyes.