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Heavy is the Crown (Harry Potter) Chapter 89: Mirror of Erised
🕑 Added 2025-08-23 15:29:15 +0000 UTC[Merlin’s POV]
I couldn’t believe I actually had to wrestle Arthur for his wand just to calm him down. In all the years I’ve known him, I had never seen him look so utterly undone. Just what in the nine realms of hell had the Mirror shown him to leave him this flustered? Arthur was never the type to break so easily, and yet here he was—completely shaken.
His cheeks glowed a fierce shade of crimson, betraying an embarrassment so intense it made even his ears burn red. His eyes darted around with panic, refusing to settle anywhere, his lips trembled before he bit them shut, clinging desperately to his silence. Finally, he crouched down on the cold floor, burying his face into his hands as if the world itself had become too much to endure.
“Arthur,” I said softly, crouching beside him, my hand hovering over his shoulder, unsure if I should touch him. “Just what was it? What did you see? Come on… you can share it with me. You know I won’t judge.”
But the more I tried to coax him, the deeper his denial burrowed. He only shook his head, violently at first and then more slowly, like a child refusing to speak.
I wanted to know. Gods above, I was dying to know. But at the same time… I was reluctant to face the Mirror myself. My back remained turned toward it, my body tense with the knowledge of what it could reveal. I already knew what my reflection would show—knew it in the deepest pit of my chest. And I would rather not see it confirmed before my eyes. Not because it was evil, not exactly. But because of the terrible lengths I had already gone to in order to pursue that desire.
They call greed a mortal sin. But being half-devil, my greed is far darker, far heavier than what any mortal could carry. It is a hunger that gnaws endlessly, whispering that it will never be satisfied. That is why I fear the Mirror. That is why I keep my gaze away.
Yet Arthur’s reaction… it gnawed at me. His fear, his shame—it was too strange. What could possibly reduce him to this state? My curiosity swelled until it nearly overwhelmed my restraint.
When he finally looked up from his hands, his big, round blue eyes locked on mine. They were glossy, almost pleading, his expression that of a man begging for mercy. His voice cracked when he whispered, “Merlin… can we leave? Please? I don’t want to stay here a moment longer.”
Damn it. If he hadn’t looked at me like that, I might have let the matter go. I might have respected his wish and followed him out, leaving the Mirror behind in its silence. But when he stares at me with those eyes—soft, vulnerable, begging—I find myself powerless. Instead of walking away, I gave in to temptation.
As he turned his gaze elsewhere, I subtly wove a spell, my fingers twitching almost imperceptibly. The enchantment slipped across the glassy surface of the Mirror, tricking it into believing Arthur still stood before it. And then, slowly, it revealed to me what had shaken him so badly.
At first, I thought I was hallucinating. My brain refused to comprehend the image. I blinked hard, rapidly, forcing myself to focus.
This… this was what Arthur’s heart desired most?
I turned toward him, disbelief threatening to choke me. He was still crouched low, his head bowed, the back of his hand pressed against his trembling lips. His messy blond bangs shielded most of his expression, but his bright blue eyes still shone through, betraying his turmoil. His cheeks were still flushed scarlet, proof of the shame boiling inside him.
The Mirror couldn’t be broken, could it? No. It had shown countless truths before. I would have believed he might see his mother and sister—his lost family. Or perhaps himself as he often claimed he wanted, retiring to a quiet life of peace. At the very least, I would have expected him to see himself as king once again, though he swore he had no interest in the crown. Any of those would have made sense. Any of those, I would have understood.
But what I saw instead left me frozen.
There we were—Arthur and I—dancing together, smiling like fools lost in each other’s joy. Our hands were intertwined, and upon our fingers gleamed matching wedding rings. The image radiated warmth, the kind of happiness that can’t be faked. Then, with a gentle shimmer, the vision shifted. Now it showed us standing side by side, arms around one another, posing with children. Children who bore our features, our smiles. A family.
I stared in silence, my throat dry, my chest tightening. My gaze flicked back toward Arthur, who sat there trembling in shame, as though the Mirror had revealed some unspeakable crime. But this—this was what he wanted most?
A family.
With me.
I almost laughed at the absurdity, but the sound stuck in my chest. My own cheeks warmed, heat rushing up into my face as I averted my gaze toward the stone wall, trying to steady myself. Curse him—how could he fluster me like this, even in silence?
What is wrong with him? I could understand if he longed for peace, or victory, or lost kin. But this? A life with me? A family? Arthur may be a reincarnator, carrying wisdom and memories beyond his years, but still… of all the things he could desire, why this?
My thoughts fell quiet, replaced by an ache I hadn’t expected. I sighed inwardly, my chest heavy. It was sweet. Gods help me, it was heartbreakingly sweet. But it was impossible.
Because if Arthur ever learned the truth—if he ever uncovered the things I’ve done, the sins I’ve buried, the secrets I’ve kept from him—then everything between us would shatter. The trust, the bond we’ve built. It would all be destroyed.
No. As much as he may dream… He and I could never be together.
I was so utterly baffled by the image of us in the Mirror—Arthur’s desire for a family, for a future with me—that I momentarily forgot why I had turned my back to it in the first place. In my lapse of caution, I shattered the enchantment with a single thought. The false reflection vanished in a ripple of light.
But instead of dissipating quietly, the glass flared, and as my gaze lingered for one foolish heartbeat too long, the Mirror seized upon me.
The image shifted.
Gone was the gentle, impossible dream of Arthur’s heart. Instead, the surface rippled like water, and staring back at me was not my reflection at all—but Arthur’s. Or at least… something that wore his face.
He was wrong.
Twisted.
Both his eyes were pools of pure black, empty and endless, broken only by twin violet pupils that glowed like embers in the void. His lips curled into a wild, mocking grin, sharp and feral, dripping with malice. It was Arthur, yet not Arthur—it was as if the Mirror itself had birthed a demon in his likeness.
“Naughty~ Naughty~,” the distorted voice slithered into my mind, layered with echoes, deeper than Arthur’s natural tone, each word dragging across my skull like claws.
“Don’t you know that desiring what doesn’t belong to you is a sin, little Mel?” it taunted, a cruel melody woven into its words. “Tut, tut, tut. I suppose it can’t be helped—you are a devil, after all. What else should one expect from the great devil who was willing to sell her own student for her desires?”
For fuck’s sake…
I clenched my fists, trying to steady myself, but the Mirror-Arthur only leaned closer, his head tilting in grotesque mimicry, violet pupils boring into me with unrelenting malice. His expression shifted from mockery to exaggerated pity, lips curling as though he were scolding a child.
“Bad little Merlin~” he sang in a voice dripping with venom. “Bad little devil. You need to be punished.”
Before I could react, before I could shield myself, his hand rose lazily, and with a single gesture—a finger pointed in mock condemnation—I was struck.
The force was invisible yet undeniable. My body was ripped from the ground as though gravity had been erased. The air left my lungs in a strangled gasp as I was hurled backward. My spine slammed into the stone wall with a bone-jarring crack. Shards of stone exploded outward, raining debris around me as pain flared hot through my body.
I slid down the wall with a groan, clutching my side. “Ow…” The understatement was pitiful, but it was all I could manage through the haze of throbbing pain.
“Merlin?!”
Arthur’s voice cut through the ringing in my ears. I blinked up at him as he scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with disbelief. His head whipped toward the Mirror, and his face paled when he saw it—jagged cracks spiderwebbing across its once pristine surface.
He rushed toward me, kneeling by my side, his strong hands grasping my arm as he helped me back up. His expression was torn between confusion and worry, his voice tight with urgency. “What—what just happened? What did you do?!”
For a moment, I only stared at him, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart. The echo of that demonic laughter still rang in my skull, and my body ached where the unseen force had crushed me into the wall.
Finally, I let out a long, weary sigh. My lips curved into a humorless smile, a mask to hide the dread curling in my chest.
“It seems…” I said slowly, my voice hoarse yet steady, “that my desires were too strong for the Mirror to bear.”
Comments
Bryan Vargas
This is going to actually be a major conflict in their relationship before they officially get together, if Merlin is actually in love with the Arthur he once was or the Arthur is he now
Mecha Destroyer98
I curious was Merlin in love with the original Arthur when he was around but choose to keep her feelings to herself?
