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Heavy is the Crown (Harry Potter) Chapter 77: Pretending
🕑 Added 2025-07-24 15:58:46 +0000 UTC[Third person POV]
Arthur woke up staring at the ceiling, silent tears streaming from the corners of his eyes. The room was quiet, filled only with the soft, steady rhythm of breathing from those around him. He didn’t say a word—didn’t need to. He just lay there, unmoving, his gaze vacant as his mind drifted to places he'd rather forget. On either side of him, Cosmo and Sylvia lay peacefully, their small forms rising and falling gently with each breath.
Sylvia stirred slightly, her instincts picking up on the emotional weight pressing down on her father. Her eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep, and she blinked up at him with concern. Stretching out her little limbs, she crawled over to Arthur’s face, her voice still laced with sleep as she asked, “Papa… is everything okay?”
Arthur didn’t respond immediately. His voice came out in a hushed, almost cracked whisper as he turned toward her and gently pulled her into his arms. “You could say that…”
He held her close, resting his chin atop her head and placing a tender kiss there. The warmth of her small body against his chest brought a fragile comfort. “Let’s just… go back to pretending we don’t know anything.”
Sylvia blinked, confused. “Huh? Know anything about what?”
Arthur gave a weak chuckle, his tone light despite the weariness in his eyes. “Perfect. You’re already a natural at it.”
Still puzzled, Sylvia decided not to press further. If Papa didn’t want to talk about it, then maybe it was something she wasn’t supposed to know. Instead, she leaned up and gave his cheek a sweet kiss. “Good night, Papa.”
“Good night to you too~” Arthur replied, smiling as he closed his eyes again. He held her tightly, clinging to the warmth and innocence she brought him as he tried to drift back to sleep—and forget whatever it was that haunted him.
---
The next morning arrived far too quickly, as the soft golden light of dawn filtered in through the curtains. Arthur, as was routine, was already up bright and early. With practiced silence, he slipped out of bed and walked through the walls of his dorm room, careful not to wake the others. Sylvia, nestled inside his robes, stirred slightly as he descended the stairs, her curious eyes peeking out from the folds of fabric.
“Where are we going?” she asked, voice small but inquisitive.
Arthur let out a sigh, keeping his pace steady. “It’s kind of… illegal for me to keep a dragon here,” he admitted, glancing down briefly at her. “So I’m taking you somewhere safe—someplace where they might be able to look after you while I’m in class.”
Sylvia’s face fell. Her ears drooped as she looked up at him, clearly upset. “What? But… I don’t want to be away from Papa.”
Arthur’s expression softened, but he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sylvia. You’re just too… well, too beautiful. You’d draw attention the moment someone laid eyes on you. It’s not safe—for either of us.”
Sylvia’s brow furrowed. Then her eyes lit up with sudden determination. “That’s no problem! Watch this!”
Arthur raised an eyebrow as she wriggled in his robes. She shut her eyes tightly, as if concentrating with all her might. A tiny shiver ran through her body, and in seconds, a soft transformation took place. The shimmer of scales and feathers gave way to silky fur. Her horns vanished, replaced by large, fluffy ears, and her wings melted into her sides. Where a miniature dragon had once been, now a creature resembling a cross between an arctic fox and a white ferret stood proudly.
“Tada!” Sylvia grinned. “Yay! I actually did it!”
Arthur blinked in shock, pulling her out of his robes and holding her up. “How…?”
“Last night, while I was sleeping, I got some memories—like magic I’m supposed to be able to use,” she explained with pride. “It’s only a fragment, but I think every time I sleep, I’ll remember more!”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “So… some kind of bloodline memory?”
Sylvia nodded, tail swishing with excitement. “Exactly!”
She then looked at him with big, hopeful eyes. “So… that means you don’t have to give me away, right?”
Arthur snickered and shook his head. “First off, I wasn’t going to give you away. I just wanted someone to watch over you while I was busy. But if you can keep this transformation up, then sure—I wouldn’t mind taking you with me wherever I go.”
“Yay! That’s awesome!” she squealed, throwing her little arms into the air. Then her expression shifted into confusion as she noticed Arthur still heading in the same direction, his course unchanged. “But… why are we still going this way? There’s no need anymore, right?”
“Wrong,” Arthur replied, a mysterious gleam in his eyes.
They stepped out into the bright light of morning as they exited the castle. The crisp breeze rustled the trees, and the garden greeted them with the scent of dew and blooming herbs. Arthur’s steps didn’t slow as he made his way through the lush greenery, his destination clear.
Ahead of them stood a large hut nestled at the edge of the grounds.
“I have absolutely no clue how to properly raise a baby dragon,” Arthur admitted with a sigh, his tone half-anxious, half-resigned. He gently shifted Sylvia on his shoulder, careful not to jostle her too much. “I want to make sure I’m doing everything right… that I’m raising you properly.”
As he finished speaking, Arthur stepped up to the large, weather-worn wooden hut nestled just past the castle gardens, the air smelled faintly of earth and smoke. He raised his hand and knocked on the sturdy door, the thudding echoing through the quiet.
There was a pause, followed by the sound of movement inside. Then a familiar deep voice called out, “I’ll be right with yer! Give me a minute!”
Arthur smiled. That unmistakable voice belonged to none other than Rubeus Hagrid.
Moments later, the door creaked open to reveal the half-giant, still fastening the buttons on his coat and brushing straw off his pants. His thick beard bristled slightly as the cool morning air hit him. Hagrid glanced forward, clearly expecting someone taller, and blinked in confusion at the empty space in front of him—until he looked down.
There stood Arthur, hands folded behind his back, smiling up at him.
“Good morning, Mr. Hagrid,” Arthur greeted politely. “I hope I’m not waking you.”
“Nah,” Hagrid rumbled in his thick accent, chuckling warmly. “I’m always up before the sun anyway, takin’ care o’ the grounds and all that.” He squinted for a moment, studying Arthur more closely. “Wait just a minute… You’re that lad I see every morning, runnin’ and trainin’, always movin’ like you’re preparin’ for somethin’. That you?”
“That’s me,” Arthur replied with a grin. “You can just call me Arthur.”
“Well then, Arthur, what can I do for you this fine morning?” Hagrid asked, curiosity furrowing his brow.
Arthur glanced over his shoulder and then leaned in slightly. “Would it be alright if I came in for a bit? It’s kind of important.”
“Oh?” Hagrid said, intrigued. He glanced around and stepped aside, waving him in. “Sure thing. Come on in then. Mind yer step and, er, don’t trip over anything!”
“Thanks,” Arthur said as he stepped into the hut, carefully avoiding a crooked stool and a coiled rope on the floor. Hagrid shut the door behind him with a heavy thud.
“Take a seat wherever ye like,” Hagrid offered, settling into a massive wooden chair that groaned beneath his weight. “So tell me—what brings you to my door? Most students avoid this place like the plague, not that it bothers me much, mind ye, but I can’t help but be a bit curious.”
“Well,” Arthur began, looking around at the hut’s cozy interior—cluttered with kettle pots and a rather large hound sleeping in the corner—“Well, I’ve heard that Professor Dumbledore really trusts you, and I remember Harry talking about you once or twice. He made you sound like someone worth trustings. So I figured if there was anyone I could trust with something like this… it’d be you.”
“Harry’s friend, are yeh?” Hagrid asked, eyes softening.
“You could say that. We’ve spoken a few times and we're in the same Quidditch team,” Arthur nodded. “But the real reason I’m here is because… well, I heard you were the person to go to when it comes to magical creatures. And I’ve got one that I need help with. I heard you’re the expert around here.”
“Well, I dunno about ‘expert’,” Hagrid said, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “But I do love me creatures, that’s true. Magical, mundane, big, small—I’ve got a soft spot for ’em all.” His gaze dropped to Arthur’s shoulder, where a small white head peeked curiously. “And I’m guessin’ that wee critter there is the one you’re talkin’ about?”
Arthur nodded and gently reached to his shoulders, pulling Sylvia out carefully. She chirped softly as she emerged, nuzzling against Arthur’s cheek before looking up at Hagrid with wide, inquisitive eyes.
“I need to know how to take care of her properly. What to feed her, what to avoid. Everything.”
Hagrid leaned forward with interest, resting his enormous elbows on his knees as he took in the small creature. He stroked his beard thoughtfully.
“Hmmm… I don’t think I’ve ever seen a beastie quite like her,” he murmured. “She’s beautiful, no doubt about that. But I’m afraid she doesn’t look like any creature I’m familiar with.”
“She’s a dragon,” Arthur said matter-of-factly, smiling.
Hagrid blinked. Then he chuckled. “A dragon? Heh! That’s a good one. I’ve seen dragons before, boy, and I hate to burst your bubble, but that ain’t one. Too fluffy. Too cute. Too small. Looks more like a cross between a puffskein and a ferret.”
Arthur laughed lightly and gave Sylvia a small nod. “Oh right… Sylvia, undo your transformation.”
Sylvia tilted her head, then nodded. Her body began to shimmer as the soft fur rippled and transformed. Within seconds, the arctic fox-like appearance melted away—replaced by silver-white scales that glinted like liquid moonlight. Her fluffy ears shifted into elegant, spiraled horns, and her wings unfurled from her back with a quiet rustle. Her eyes glowed faintly with an intelligence.
Hagrid’s eyes went wide. He stood up so fast his chair crashed to the ground behind him with a thunderous bang.
“By Dumbledore’s silver beard…” he breathed, his voice nearly trembling. “A bloody baby dragon! A real one!”
Comments
Bryan Vargas
No, he would just say she's a really rare dragon, which wouldn't be a lie
Rogue_Eagle99
Hagrid knows how dragons look so seeing how different that she looks Does Arthur plan to explain that she’s a true dragon
