[Third Person POV]
Arthur soon arrived back at his dorm. His eyes immediately landed on his bed, where Cosmo and Sylvia had claimed their territory. Sylvia perked up the instant she saw him, wagging her tail with bright, eager eyes, while Cosmo, true to form, only lifted his head lazily before deciding that rest was still the better option and flopping back down with a grunt.
Arthur gave a quiet chuckle at the sight before glancing around the room. His dormmates—Ron, Harry, and Neville—were each preoccupied with their own activities, sprawled out on their respective beds. Harry was hunched slightly forward with a book resting in his lap, his black hair a mess as usual, while Ron lay on his back with his arms tucked behind his head, staring absently at the ceiling as though lost in thought. Neville, on the other hand, was the only one showing signs of productivity, carefully folding clothes and tucking them into his trunk.
Noticing Arthur enter, Neville looked up from his task and gave him a small nod before asking, "Are you also going to be going home for the holidays? Or are you going to be staying as well with those two?"
"I'll be leaving," Arthur replied with a small smile as he crossed the room, reaching Sylvia's head and rubbing between her ears. She leaned into his touch, clearly delighted. "I have things to take care of, so I'll be gone during the holidays too."
He glanced over at Harry and Ron, raising his brows. "I guess that just leaves the two of you here."
Harry didn't lift his gaze from the book in his lap, but his voice was steady when he answered. "I figured I would enjoy the holidays here more than I would back home." His words carried a weight Arthur could hear even without seeing Harry's expression.
Ron shifted on his bed, speaking without moving his hands from behind his head. "I'd feel bad leaving Harry by himself when everyone would be gone, so I decided to stay and keep him company. Not to mention, my family is pretty big. I'm doing them a favor by giving them one less mouth to feed."
Arthur and Harry both smiled at that, the corners of their lips tugging upward at Ron's casual honesty.
"I won't say much about your reason to stay since that's pretty noble of you," Arthur said with a kind expression, "And I'm sure Harry will be happy to have you around. But you shouldn't see yourself as a nuisance to your family or that you're doing them a favor by not being present. You're their family, Ron. They won't see it that way."
"Hmm…" Ron hummed, dismissive, his tone bordering on disinterest, which earned him a quiet eye-roll from Arthur.
"My would…" Harry muttered under his breath, but not as quietly as he intended. The unfinished words caused the others to turn their heads sharply toward him.
Harry's cheeks flared pink the instant he realized he'd spoken too loud, and he ducked behind his book as though it could shield him from their eyes.
Arthur sighed softly, shaking his head. "I won't say much about your living situation since it's obvious it's not great."
Harry's head snapped up, his panic immediate. "Obvious?! What do you mean obvious!? How obvious is it?! Can people tell?" His green eyes darted anxiously from Arthur to Ron to Neville, and when he saw all three of them nodding, he swallowed hard.
Arthur's voice softened, but his words were blunt. "You've put on a few pounds since you got here, but when you first arrived you were clearly malnourished."
Harry let out a muffled groan and buried his face in the book again, his ears burning red with embarrassment.
"But that wasn't what I was getting at," Arthur continued gently. "Although you might not feel wanted at home, you shouldn't let put you down. You are wanted elsewhere—here, at Hogwarts. Focus on that instead. Not just by your friends either, but the staff as well. Professor McGonagall and Hagrid, for example—both of them would be more than happy to have you around the castle. They've clearly got a soft spot for you."
Arthur gave him a reassuring smile. "You're already surrounded by people who want you here, Harry. You shouldn't feel unwanted."
Harry's tense expression softened a little as he scratched at his cheek, considering Arthur's words. Slowly, he nodded, as though recognizing the truth behind them.
The atmosphere, however, shifted abruptly when Neville piped up nervously. "...But you will be around Snape. He's someone I wouldn't want to be surrounded by." Neville visibly trembled at the thought, shoving another jumper quickly into his trunk.
"Ugh, Neville, mate—why did you have to bring him up?" Ron groaned, dragging his pillow over his face as though to block out the thought of their least favorite professor. His muffled complaint made Harry and Arthur chuckle, breaking the tension.
From there, the group slipped into lighter banter, their voices carrying through the dorm as night crept deeper outside the tower's windows. They joked, teased, and exchanged small remarks until the room grew quiet again. Eventually, fatigue caught up with them. Neville snapped his trunk shut with finality, Arthur finished folding his last set of robes, and the two of them decided to turn in early, needing rest before catching the train the next morning.
…
Arthur, Merlin, Lance, and Gwyneth settled into their compartment on the train, the familiar clatter of trunks being stored and cages shifted filling the air around them. After arranging their luggage neatly above and beneath their seats, they instinctively chose the same places they had occupied on their first journey to Hogwarts months ago. The symmetry of it brought a strange sense of comfort, as if no time had passed at all.
"Well, doesn't this seem like a familiar sight?" Arthur teased lightly, leaning back with his arms folded. His words drew small smiles from each of them, the warm sort of expression that carried shared memory.
"Woah," Gwyneth muttered, her gaze drifting to the window as the landscape began to blur with the train's movement. "It's bonkers to think we've been at Hogwarts for four whole months already… Time sure goes by fast."
Her voice carried a note of awe, as though she still couldn't believe they belonged there. The others nodded, each of them reflecting quietly on how much had changed since they'd first stepped foot in the castle. The train rattled along, its rhythm almost lulling. Arthur, Gwyneth, and Lance began trading stories of their favorite classes, mishaps, and encounters—moments filled with laughter, complaints about homework, and the occasional dramatic reenactment of Professor Snape's scowl. Merlin, by contrast, sat listening in silence, her eyes half-lidded but attentive, as though she preferred to absorb rather than contribute.
The journey stretched long, the countryside outside fading from golden fields to clusters of shadowed trees and back again. By the time the brakes squealed and the train slowed to its final stop, the soft camaraderie in the compartment had settled into a comfortable quiet.
Arthur rose first, stretching his limbs before carefully balancing Cosmo and Sylvia on each shoulder, their small bodies curling into the fabric of his cloak with content purrs. In one hand he gripped an empty cage, in the other his luggage. He looked faintly ridiculous trying to manage it all, but also undeniably used to the weight.
The four of them filed out of the train one by one, stepping into the bustling station. The air was sharper here, tinged with coal smoke and the chatter of dozens of families reuniting. Arthur and Merlin both scanned the crowd, eyes searching for the familiar. It wasn't long before they spotted him—Nicholas Flamel—standing patiently, his face lighting up the moment his gaze landed on them.
Arthur and Merlin both broke into smiles, quickening their pace, and Nicholas moved forward at once, his arms wide. Without hesitation, he pulled both of them into a warm, almost fatherly embrace.
"Arthur! Mer-lynn!" Nicholas exclaimed with genuine joy. "How I've missed you both! It has been far too quiet back home without you two underfoot."
The two returned his hug with chuckles of their own, Arthur caught between laughter and nostalgia while Merlin patted the alchemist's back affectionately.
"We missed you too, old man," Merlin teased, though her tone carried affection.
"Glad to see you're as healthy as ever," Arthur added with a smile as they broke apart. But his eyes drifted around the station again, searching.
Nicholas caught the look and chuckled knowingly. "Although Penny wanted to come, she decided to stay behind and prepare you a feast. She insisted it was the best way to welcome you back."
Arthur's expression softened immediately, his confusion fading. "That sounds like her," he murmured warmly.
As Arthur and Nicholas caught up, Merlin's gaze wandered elsewhere, scanning the flow of people around the station. She froze, however, when her eyes fell on two particular figures. A ripple of unease—or perhaps recognition—ran through her, and her hands clenched slightly at her sides.
Meanwhile, Lance had broken away from the group, approaching a tall man who stood waiting at the edge of the platform. His hair was long, nearly bleached to silver, and his frame was broad, muscle carved deep beneath his cloak. A white cloth covered one of his arms, concealing it until he moved.
"Mother didn't come?" Lance asked, tilting his head up at him.
"You know how busy she is," the man answered with quiet sympathy, his tone neither sharp nor dismissive. "It is hard for her to be away from her duties." With that, he shifted the cloth aside, revealing a gleaming prosthetic arm of intricate, almost regal design. The metal caught the light, its craftsmanship both functional and beautiful. He rested it briefly on Lance's head, patting him gently.
"Shall we get going?" he asked, retracting his hand.
"I wanted to say a proper farewell to my friends first," Lance replied, motioning back toward Arthur, Merlin, and Gwyneth.
The man turned to look—and froze. His breath caught violently in his throat the instant his eyes fell upon Arthur. The boy was laughing, Sylvia perched proudly on his shoulder as he showed her off to Nicholas. The scene was ordinary, innocent even. Yet to the man, it was anything but.
His breaths came quicker, shallow and uneven. His body trembled, his lips pressed hard together as though to dam up the storm inside him. His eyes widened as his expression contorted into a mix of sadness and relief. His vision blurred with unshed tears. A single drop broke free, streaking down his cheek before he closed his eyes, lowering his head and bowing under the weight of emotion.
Lance blinked, stunned. He had never seen his teacher—his steadfast, unshakable mentor—reduced to this. Before he could speak, the man's knees bent, his form lowering until he knelt on one knee, head bowed in reverence. The sight sent a jolt of shock through Lance's chest.
'Bedivere! Stand up!!' Merlin's voice thundered in his mind, the psychic force jolting him as though struck. His head snapped up, confusion writ across his face. He turned, searching, and his eyes landed on a young girl glaring at him with fire in her gaze.
'It's me, Merlin,' the voice continued, sharp as a blade. 'I'll explain later, but first stop making a fool of yourself—you're drawing attention!'
'Merlin…? But… My liege' Bedivere's thoughts quivered, raw with emotion. 'It's him… His Majesty… my King. He has returned. After so many years… I've waited for his return. How can you possibly expect me to keep calm and not to pay my respects? Let them stare! It matters not. For I am merely a humble knight greeting his king.'
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