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Heavy is the Crown (Harry Potter) Chapter 115: Return To Hogwarts
🕑 Added 2025-11-02 07:10:43 +0000 UTC[Third Person POV]
Arthur and the rest of his companions stepped off the train platform, the air crisp with the lingering chill of winter. Steam billowed from the scarlet engine behind them, curling around the students as they were ushered toward the horseless carriages waiting at the edge of the platform. The chatter of returning Hogwarts students filled the air—laughs, shouts, and the creak of luggage trunks being dragged across the cobblestones.
“Arthur!!”
The familiar call made him stop mid-step. He turned, his cloak swishing lightly, just in time to see Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom hurrying toward him through the crowd.
“Oh—hello, you two,” Arthur greeted warmly, his expression brightening. “I hope you both enjoyed your holiday.”
“It was absolutely delightful,” Hermione said with a pleased smile. “I wanted to thank you for your gift. It’s wonderful—really thoughtful of you.”
Neville nodded in agreement, his own grin sheepish but sincere. “Same here! You shouldn’t have gone through all that trouble, but… thank you. I really appreciated it.”
Before Arthur could respond, a few other students from nearby overheard and came over too—faces from different houses, all familiar from shared classes. One by one, they began to hand Arthur small, wrapped packages in return. Some were neat and tidy, others hastily tied together with string, but all were tokens of thanks.
In no time, a small mound of gifts began to form in Arthur’s arms, rising precariously like a colorful tower of boxes and ribbons.
Gwenth and Lance, standing a few paces away, stared at him in utter disbelief. Their jaws dropped as Arthur struggled to keep the growing pile balanced against his chest.
“Arthur…” Gwenth said slowly, peeking around the leaning stack of gifts, “just how many people did you send Christmas presents to?”
Arthur’s ears flushed red, his face growing warm as he tried to adjust his grip on the wobbling pile. “Um… I’d… rather not say,” he mumbled, his voice muffled behind the boxes.
Merlin, who had been watching this unfold with a weary, unimpressed expression, sighed heavily. “The number,” she said flatly, “is clearly over three hundred.”
“WHAT?!” Lance and Gwenth exclaimed in unison, their voices echoing across the station.
Even Hermione and Neville, still holding their own gifts, looked at Arthur with wide eyes—half admiration, half horror.
“I couldn’t help it!” Arthur protested, looking genuinely distressed. “I didn’t want anyone to feel left out! Then there were the house-elves—oh, don’t look at me like that! If I gave one a present, I had to give all of them one! It wouldn’t have been fair otherwise!”
“House-elves?” Hermione repeated, frowning in confusion.
“Later,” Merlin interrupted sharply, waving her hand dismissively. She looked seconds away from pinching the bridge of her nose.
Lance rubbed his temples, utterly incredulous. “Arthur, are you mental?! Do you realize how much work that must’ve been? You gave every single house-elf a Christmas present?!”
“...They all work so hard for us, it's only right I showed my appreciation” Arthur said softly, shrinking a little under their stares. His sincerity was almost painful to behold.
Gwenth exhaled in disbelief, shaking her head. “Arthur… you are truly a very special case.”
“You’re too pure for this world,” Lance muttered, ruffling his hair in distress.
“That’s an understatement,” Merlin grumbled. Without another word, she snatched the enchanted pouch hanging from Arthur’s belt and tossed it toward Lance and Gwenth. “Here. Hold this open.”
They blinked in confusion but obeyed. Merlin flicked her wand, and the pile of gifts levitating in Arthur’s arms neatly floated one by one into the pouch—each box shrinking slightly before vanishing into the enchanted storage space. Within seconds, Arthur’s load was gone, the pouch only slightly bulging despite having just swallowed over a dozen presents.
Students passing by slowed to watch, many chuckling quietly at the absurd scene. Even a few prefects couldn’t help but smirk at Arthur’s sheepish expression.
When the last gift disappeared, a booming voice cut across the platform.
“Wha’ are yeh kids waitin’ for?! Get in, before the carriages leave without yeh!”
All four turned to see Hagrid standing near the path to the carriages, waving his massive arm to hurry them along.
As the group made their way toward the line of horseless carriages, the crisp air carried the faint scent of pine and snow. The low murmur of students filled the station platform, boots crunching over frost-covered cobblestones as steam from the train coiled lazily into the darkening sky.
Arthur paused mid-step, his gaze drifting toward the front of one of the carriages. The moonlight caught the faint outline of something skeletal and majestic — a Thestral, its leathery wings folded tightly against its sides, the creature’s eerie beauty hidden to most. It turned its long head slightly, meeting his eyes with a solemn intelligence that sent a strange shiver down his spine.
For a brief moment, Arthur said nothing. He simply stood there, watching the invisible creature paw softly at the ground.
Gwenth, who had already climbed halfway into the carriage, leaned back out and frowned. To her eyes, Arthur appeared to be staring at empty space.
“What is it?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion.
“Hm?” Arthur blinked, forcing a smile as if snapping from a daydream. “Oh, nothing. Thought I saw something, that’s all.”
She raised a brow but shrugged, retreating into the carriage. Arthur lingered just a second longer, giving the unseen Thestral a small, respectful nod before joining the others and closing the door behind him.
Once everyone was settled, the carriage lurched forward with a gentle jolt, wheels crunching along the snowy path. The rhythmic sound of hooves — hooves that half of them couldn’t even see — echoed softly through the night.
Lance glanced out the window with mild disappointment, for clearly an unknown reason. “We’re not taking the boats this time?”
Arthur shook his head, leaning back against the cushioned seat. “The boats are only for first-years, to bring them to the Sorting Ceremony,” he explained, his tone casual but fond.
“Thank goodness gracious,” Gwenth sighed in exaggerated relief, placing a hand over her chest. She then turned her head, eyes narrowing in mischief. “Now, before we reach the castle… can we please talk about Arthur’s completely insane gift-giving spree?”
Arthur groaned quietly.
Merlin, sitting across from them, didn’t even glance up. Her voice was perfectly monotone. “Did I forget to mention he included the ghosts?”
The carriage went silent. Three pairs of eyes immediately turned toward Arthur.
Arthur’s hand instinctively went to his hair, tugging lightly at the front strands as he pouted, avoiding their stares. “...What?”
Lance gawked. “Arthur… they’re dead,” he said slowly, his tone bordering disbelief. “What possible use could dead men have for Christmas presents?”
Arthur blinked, his expression softening. “Exactly. They’re dead. When was the last time anyone gave them anything?” His voice was calm, sincere. “It’s pitiful, really. Just because someone has passed doesn’t mean they should be forgotten. If anything, it’s the opposite — they deserve to be remembered, to be honored. Giving them presents… It's like telling them that even though they’re gone, they’re still part of the celebration. No one should ever forget what is like to be part of a celebration, to be remembered and acknowledged”
A heavy silence settled in the carriage. Lance opened his mouth to retort but couldn’t find the words. Gwenth looked down, biting her lip slightly. Neither could argue with him — not when they both knew about the fact that Arthur was an orphan. L
They exchanged a silent glance and then, as if deciding something unspoken, nodded to each other.
Lance turned back to Arthur, his tone suddenly firm. “We’ll protect you.”
Arthur blinked, caught completely off guard. “What?”
“You’re too pure for this world,” Gwenth said solemnly, placing a hand on her heart. “Someone might take advantage of your kindness. So we’ve decided — we’re not letting that happen.”
Merlin snorted softly, covering her mouth as laughter threatened to escape.
Arthur rolled his eyes with a sigh. “As flattering as that sounds, I’m not nearly as innocent as you two make me out to be. And I’m certainly not naïve.”
He looked out the window as the castle lights came into view in the distance, his reflection faint in the glass. “The reason I am the way that I am is a choice. I could be the complete opposite if I really wanted too. But this world is already full of dark people and negativity. I'm trying to rectify that by leading by example, by becoming more forthcoming I hope to inspire others to do the same. We can’t just wait for things to change; we become the change we want to see around us.”
Gwenth threw her hands over her eyes dramatically. “Ugh, so bright! My eyes! They burn from all the wholesome energy!”
“So pure…” Lance groaned, pretending to shield himself as well. “It’s blinding!”
“You two seriously get on my nerves,” Arthur said, scoffing.
Merlin chuckled openly now, shaking her head as the three of them burst into laughter. The sound filled the small space of the carriage as it rolled steadily up the moonlit road toward Hogwarts Castle, their silhouettes framed against the golden glow of the ancient towers ahead.
Comments
Bryan Vargas
It wasn't unintentional, Its an L moment
Rogue_Eagle99
“ fact that Arthur was an orphan. L” unintentionally put an L there
