I suppose I'm going to update this story once a week while I can. It's interesting, this is the first of my stories where the hits from the UK are higher than those from the US (even if only slightly). Probably because this is a crossover of two British series.... * shrugs*
Chapter Two: Fashion Lessons
Merlin looked around him in confusion, blinking sleep from his eyes in the early morning light, and yet there was still no sign of anyone in the woods. Perhaps he had worded the spell wrong? He'd felt an insistent tug pulling upon him, leading him out of bed and to this spot, and assumed it was the druids calling for him. But when he'd spoken the words to the spell that would summon them, nothing had happened. So he'd tried it three more times. Still, nothing. There wasn't much of anything in the clearing, really, except for a large stone covered in various shades of moss, but he doubted that was what had been calling him.
He waited a bit longer and, still, there was no sign of anyone revealing themselves. He shrugged and turned back towards Camelot, where his daily duties awaited him (plus Arthur had wanted to go hunting today, which was never a fun time for Merlin). As he walked off in the direction of castle turrets and billowing red flags, he didn't hear the two distinct thuds impacting the layers of dry leaves, nor seen the bodies of the two boys who had suddenly fallen out of the sky.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut tighter in an attempt to block out the sun. It was Saturday, for Merlin's sake! And, annoyance of all annoyances, he'd accidentally left the curtains around his bed open again, allowing the sun to take that as an open invitation to wake him up in a very rude manner. Without opening his eyes, he reached blindly to close the curtains. His fingers, however, only groped air.
Come to think of it… his bed seemed quite a bit more uncomfortable than he was used to. And… was that a rock jabbing into his back? At the sudden realization, he shot bolt upright, his eyes trying to take in all of the alien sights around him. There were trees― not so out of the ordinary, sure. But these trees were tall and straight and their golden and orange leaves dappled the sunlight that played over the forest floor. These were certainly not the trees found deep in the Forbidden Forest. Remembering what had happened, he checked to make sure he still had everything; yes, his wand, cloak, and the Marauder's Map were all still safely with him. And, there on the ground just a few feet away, beside a large rock with odd multicolored moss, lay Draco Malfoy, looking for all the world as innocent as a young child as he lay in slumber. Harry snorted and rolled his eyes.
He got up, shaking off the stiffness of sleeping on the ground outside, and approached his school time foe, nudging him with the tip of his shoe.
"Malfoy," he called, trying to rouse him. The other boy's only response was to groan a bit. "Draco!" he said louder. Still, the sleeping teen just scrunched his face up in unconscious annoyance. He gave a slightly harder nudge. "Hey, Ferretface!"
Draco sat up groggily. "What?" he growled, scowling at Harry.
"Good to see you'll respond to something," the Gryffindor remarked. "You should get up so we can find out where we are. I think we spent the night unconscious in the Forbidden Forest, after―"
"After you pushed me down that hill?" Draco sneered, standing slowly.
"I didn't push you, the trees―"
"Sure, Potter, blame it on the trees."
"Well I wouldn't have been out there in the first place if you hadn't been up to―" He stopped talking suddenly at the sound of hoof beats getting closer. Could it be the centaurs, coming to find them? No, the sound wasn't quite right… He moved in the direction of the sound with Draco following close behind.
Soon, they came to a spot where the ground cut away; a few feet below, there was a dirt road.
"How is there…?" Harry began, only to have Draco answer his statement with his own confused words.
"There aren't any roads in the Forbidden Forest," he said, his voice sounding concerned for once. Hoping to find answers, the two clambered down the incline and emerged on the dirt road. The sound of hoof beats was getting closer, but they were slow and non-urgent.
Soon, a cart pulled by one single horse and driven by a man in clothing that looked right out of the Middle Ages (even to two wizards dressed in robes and cloaks and accustomed to writing with quills on parchment). He slowed the cart to a stop as he approached the two teens and looked at them oddly. Draco decided to speak up.
"Excuse me," he said, sounding oddly polite to Harry's ears, though still keeping a tone of arrogance about him, "My… companion here and I are rather lost. Is there a town or village nearby?"
The man kept looking at them strangely through a scraggly mess of facial hair on his unwashed face. "Aye," he said with an accent that reminded Harry strongly of Hagrid. "We're bu' a wee distan' ou' fra' the ci'y o' Camelot." It took a moment for the two to translate what he'd said― that they weren't far from Camelot― and when they did so, they looked at each other in surprise.
"Did you say… Camelot?" Harry asked, wondering if he'd heard the man wrong through the thick accent.
"Aye," the man said again, "Tha's where aem 'eadin'. Ae go' some grain ta bring fra' the ou'lyin' villages."
"Ah," said Draco, barely grasping what he was saying, "I see…"
"Well," the man said, taking up the reins again, "If tha's all yeh'll be needin', ae bes' be off." With that, his horse began its slow clopping again. The two shocked wizards stood in their places for a while, waiting until the cart was out of sight before speaking again. Even then, it was hard to process rational thoughts.
"You know," said Harry, gazing down the road to where the cart had disappeared, "I don't think we're in Hogwarts anymore, Draco."
You'd think the greatest of all the king's knights, the man destined to be king himself, would be able to dress himself in the morning; or, at least, that was how Merlin saw it. But, no, Prince Arthur seemed to require the assistance of his manservant for even the simple task of putting on his shirt. The young sorcerer suppressed a sigh and reached over to hand the prince his belt.
Now if only he could rid himself of that irritating tugging feeling, as if his magic was getting impatient and wanted to go outside to play.
"Ok, so we've transfigured everything that might give us away, right?" Harry asked, looking at how the casual clothing beneath their robes and their modern shoes had been transformed into what suited the time that they had apparently been tossed into. Everything else, like the map, had been shrunken and stored in their pockets. The Invisibility Cloak refused to respond to any shrinking charms, so Harry had tucked it in an internal pocket of his new cloak (transfigured from his robes) in an inconspicuous way.
"Everything but your glasses," Draco said, one eyebrow quirking up.
"What's wrong with my glasses?" Harry asked offendedly, his hand shooting up to the wire frames.
"They're outdated, like your hairstyle," the Malfoy boy shot back. "Though, in this case, they're too futuristic. Do glasses even exist yet, here?"
"I… I think they do," Harry said. But he wasn't sure. "Ugh, this is all such a mess. If you hadn't―"
"Oh, don't you start that again! We're not going to get anywhere this way. Right now, we have to do something about those glasses."
"Well, I can't see without them."
"You're utterly useless, you know that? Here." His wand was suddenly pointing at the bridge of Harry's nose, making the dark-haired boy's eyes cross in surprise. A moment later, with the whisper of a spell, he felt the glasses shift and change so that they only clipped onto his nose. Draco shrugged. "It'll do. Now come on, let's see if this really is the Camelot of the legends."
Harry nodded, and they two set off in the direction that the man with the cart had gone. It wasn't long before the tall stone walls and high towers of a castle that wasn't Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry came into view. This, with its red banners and regal air, was the city of Camelot.
Same as last time; expect short chapters, but fast updates. Oh, and if you can't understand what the cart driver is saying, try saying it out loud. Go ahead, try it. I dare you.
Review please, I survive on feedback! Seriously, I need to know what people are thinking or it seems like people don't care if I update the story or not.