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Heavy is the Crown (Harry Potter) Chapter 59: Holding Back
🕑 Added 2025-06-18 18:57:45 +0000 UTC[Third Person's PoV]
Merlin and the rest of the crowd watched as Arthur and Lance were escorted away by the teachers, both boys receiving a stern reprimand for their unsanctioned duel. The atmosphere, once buzzing with excitement, now faded into murmurs and scattered conversations as the students slowly began to disperse. The thrilling spectacle had officially come to an end, though the buzz of the duel lingered heavily in the air.
Everywhere Merlin turned, she could hear bits of conversation—exclamations about the clash, praise for the technique of both fighters, and debates about who would have truly won under different circumstances. It was clear the match had left a mark on everyone’s minds.
Gwyneth walked alongside Merlin, arms folded and a pensive look on her face. “It’s a shame Lance lost,” she said with a sigh, her tone tinged with disappointment. “I really wonder how things would’ve gone if his sword hadn’t broken. He might’ve had a real shot.”
“Lance would have still lost,” Merlin replied bluntly, not missing a beat.
Gwyneth raised an eyebrow and shot Merlin an unimpressed look. “Of course you’d say that—you’re Arthur’s friend. You were rooting for him the whole time.”
Merlin shook her head, her tone shifting from blunt to serious. “No. That’s not why I said it. A real friend doesn't blindly support someone—they speak the truth, even when it’s not convenient. I’ve known Arthur for a long time, and when it comes to matters like this, I try to remain objective. So believe me when I say—Arthur would have won, broken sword or not.”
Gwyneth’s curiosity deepened, and she glanced sideways at Merlin as they continued walking. “Okay, then tell me—why do you say that? What makes you so confident?”
Merlin exhaled softly. “Because Arthur was holding back. Quite a lot, actually.”
Gwyneth’s eyes widened. “Wait—what? Are you serious? He was holding back?”
Merlin nodded, a knowing expression on her face. “It’s one of Arthur’s biggest weaknesses—his overwhelming sense of chivalry. When he fights, he tries to make things as fair as possible. He always wants a duel to be an even match, and he’ll go out of his way to handicap himself if he thinks it’ll make the fight more honorable.”
Gwyneth stared at her, baffled. “Seriously?”
Merlin smirked and leaned in a little closer, as if sharing a secret. “Here’s something most people don’t know about Arthur… He’s a dual wielder.”
“A what now?” Gwyneth tilted her head, confused.
“A dual wielder,” Merlin repeated, a spark of pride in her voice. “Arthur is trained to fight with two swords, one in each hand. That’s his specialty.”
Gwyneth gasped. “But—he only used one sword during the duel!”
Merlin gave her a pointed look, smirking. “What an astute observation.”
Gwyneth blushed, caught off guard by the sarcasm. Merlin continued, her tone light but informative. “Yes, he only used one. But that’s exactly my point. While Arthur is perfectly skilled with a single sword, his strength—his true strength—comes out when he’s wielding two. Against Lance, he was essentially fighting with one hand tied behind his back.”
Gwyneth looked down at the path as they walked, her mind turning. “Wow… Arthur’s incredible,” she said softly, a note of awe in her voice. “Poor Lance. So… he really didn’t stand a chance, did he?”
Merlin shrugged. “Not exactly. Lance was holding back too—just not as much as Arthur was. The two of them are both prodigies, but Arthur’s got a slight edge when he’s serious.”
Gwyneth nodded in thought. Then Merlin gave Gwyneth a curious glance. “You’re awfully confident in Arthur… Why don’t you doubt him?”
“Doubt what?” Gwyneth asked.
Merlin chuckled under her breath, eyeing her mischievously. “Arthur was the one who made the swords they used. I would’ve thought you might suspect he tampered with them—maybe reinforced his own or made Lance’s weaker.”
Gwyneth suddenly halted, her eyes going wide in horror. She placed both hands on top of her head. “I—I didn’t even think of that!”
Merlin stared at her in shock, her mouth slightly agape before she burst out laughing. She wrapped an arm around her middle, laughing so hard she had to slow her pace.
Gwyneth blushed again, a sheepish smile forming on her lips. She brought her hands down in front of her chest, pressing them together with a gentle sincerity. “I guess… I didn’t consider it for a good reason.”
“Oh yeah?” Merlin asked through her giggles, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah…” Gwyneth said softly, her tone warm. “Even though I’ve only known Arthur for, what… a week? There’s just something about him that tells me he’d never do something like that. I can’t explain it, but I just know. Sure, he jokes around a lot, but underneath all that? He’s a genuinely good person. I can feel it.”
She clasped her hands behind her back and looked up at the sky, a peaceful smile spreading across her face. “Like you said—Arthur’s chivalrous. He has honor. He wouldn’t cheat, not even to win.”
Gwyneth turned to Merlin with a bright, affectionate look in her eyes. “Still, it’s weird. I don’t know how I know, I just know, you know?”
Merlin smiled knowingly. “Trust me,” she said, her voice gentle and sure. “I know.”
The two girls shared a quiet moment, before breaking into soft laughter again, their shared amusement echoing as they walked side by side through the courtyard.
…
Meanwhile, Arthur and Lance sat side by side in the nurse’s office, their clothes scuffed, their hair slightly disheveled.
Madam Poppy Pomfrey paced before them, arms folded beneath her robes, a distinct look of exasperation on her face. “Honestly, you boys… It hasn’t even been a full week since term started, and already I’m getting visits like this. Brawling in the courtyard like a pair of common street hooligans!”
“We truly apologize for the inconvenience,” Arthur said politely, giving a small nod of respect. “Though, with all due humility, I assure you that neither of us is injured. There really was no need for us to be examined,”
Lance finished for Arthur echoing his calm tone. “It was just a friendly spar, really, nothing more.”
Pomfrey muttered something under her breath—but after a thorough examination involving glowing spells, a few taps of her wand, and some poking around for bruises, she finally stepped back with a sigh.
“Well, you’re both miraculously intact, no broken bones or ruptured spleens. Merlin only knows how. You’re free to go. But please do try not to make this a habit, will you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” both boys said in unison, standing up from the cot.
…
Soon after, Arthur and Lance found themselves standing before the massive stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmaster’s office. Flanking them were Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape—each looking less than amused.
McGonagall stepped forward, gave the password, and the gargoyle leapt aside, revealing the spiral staircase behind.
As the group ascended and they entered the circular office, Arthur’s attention immediately snapped away from the waiting Headmaster. His eyes lit up with childish delight. “Fawkes!” he called, the name bursting from his lips with clear joy.
‘Arthur!’ the phoenix squawked joyfully, taking flight with a glorious flare of golden feathers and radiant fire. In an elegant arc, he soared toward Arthur and perched on the boy’s extended arm, nuzzling his cheek affectionately.
The entire room paused. Even Dumbledore, seated behind his grand desk, blinked in mild surprise at the reunion unfolding before him.
Arthur laughed softly, rubbing his face against Fawkes’ warm feathers. “You’re just as radiant and noble as I remembered.”
Lance watched in awe as Arthur sat down with Fawkes perched gracefully on his shoulder. “You two know each other?” he asked, blinking.
“Of course,” Arthur grinned. “Fawkes, meet Lance Demere. Lance, this is Fawkes—though I’m sure it’s obvious, he’s a phoenix.”
Lance gave a courteous wave. “A pleasure to meet you, truly.”
‘Greetings, child of Snake,’ Fawkes replied in a melodic squawk, tilting his head in Lance’s direction.
Before Arthur could ask, a deliberate throat-clearing caught their attention. Both turned to see Dumbledore arching a patient brow.
Arthur straightened quickly. “Oh—right. Apologies, Headmaster. Good evening, sir.”
“Good evening, Headmaster,” Lance echoed politely.
Dumbledore smiled genially, offering a tin of lemon drops. “Lemon drop?”
Arthur politely declined, while Lance helped himself without hesitation.
“Yes… a fine evening indeed,” Dumbledore continued, placing the tin back on his desk. “So fine, in fact, that it apparently inspired the two of you to cross swords in the courtyard like knights of old. I am told it was quite the spectacle. Perhaps the two of you can explain what, exactly, possessed you to duel in front of the entire student body, armed with blades, no less?”
His gaze moved between the two boys before glancing toward the assembled professors. “Especially strange, given how close you’ve reportedly become in class. I’m curious. Was this a quarrel? A rivalry? Or something else entirely?”
Arthur respectfully raised a hand. “If I may, Headmaster?”
Dumbledore nodded once. “Please.”
Before Arthur could begin, Snape scoffed loudly. “Oh, do we really need to hear it? It’s clear enough—jealousy. Arthur couldn't compete with Mr. Demere’s superior intellect and sought to compensate by attempting to best him physically. A typical Gryffindor response—impulsive, prideful, and predictable.”
Arthur’s jaw clenched as he took a deep breath through his nose. ‘He really knows how to test my patience…’
“That will be quite enough, Severus,” Dumbledore said calmly, raising a hand. “Personal bias does not belong in this room. I would advise you to keep your assumptions to yourself.”
‘A bit late for that,’ Arthur thought bitterly, casting a side-eye toward the Potions Master. ‘What is his deal with me? I’ve barely spoken to the man.’
Dumbledore turned back. “Arthur, continue.”
“Thank you, Headmaster,” Arthur nodded graciously. “As I was saying, the duel between Lance and I wasn’t borne of animosity or rivalry. Quite the opposite, in fact. We discovered we both have a deep appreciation for the art of swordsmanship—particularly in the traditional and lost techniques. We arranged this duel as a respectful test of skill between two people who admire the same craft.”
He paused, then added with a calm sincerity, “There was no hostility. No intent to harm. Only mutual respect and a desire to learn more from one another through combat.”
Lance nodded, folding his arms. “He speaks the truth. This was never about pride or proving who’s better. It was about pushing ourselves and learning from each other. If anything, we’ve grown closer through it.”
Dumbledore sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he considered their words.
Comments
Green223
SHUT UP humans there is a Magnificent Bird that requires all the attention more than you Dumbles.
Andrew Ridings
FAWKES!!!!!
