[Third Person's PoV]
"That was torture…" Arthur muttered as he staggered out of the classroom, his limbs heavy and posture slouched as though his very soul had decided it had endured enough and was trying to leave his body.
Lance followed behind, rubbing the back of his neck with a wry grin. "Well, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't at least a little entertaining."
Arthur shot him a half-lidded glare. "I'm so glad you're able to find joy in my misery. Truly heartwarming."
Lance chuckled, not even bothering to deny it. "We'll talk later, yeah? I've got to run—see you around."
"Yeah. Later." Arthur gave him a casual nod and they bumped fists, a quick double tap before heading in opposite directions. Their only shared class on Fridays was Potions, a class Arthur currently regretted attending.
As he continued walking, ready to find solitude and maybe a quiet corner to decompress, he heard his name being called.
"Arthur, wait! Please!"
He turned his head, blinking as Hermione came rushing toward him, her school bag bouncing against her side and her arms cradling a stack of books like precious cargo.
"Oh—hey, Hermione." He greeted her with a smile, adjusting his grip on his own bag as she matched his pace.
Over the past few days, the two had grown more familiar during shared classes and lunchtime conversations. There was an ease between them now—until, that is, Hermione's expression twisted in visible frustration.
"Just why would you do that!" Hermione exclaimed with an aggrieved expression.
"Do what exactly?" Arthur asked, his brows knitting together.
"Talking back to professor Snape like that! You cost 20 house points!" Hermione exclaimed exasperated.
"Yeah, nice going mate, now Slytherins in the lead" Ron said walking behind him next to Harry.
"Well he was being rude and disrespectful. I wasn't just going to stand there and take it" Arthur said, looking confused.
"Yes, I understand that Professor Snape was being rude and saying some mean and awful stuff, but he's still a Professor" Hermione exclaimed.
"So? Someone's standing or title doesn't automatically allow them the right to disrespect you in any way. He could have been the Headmaster for all I care and I would have reached the same way." Arthur said, shaking his head.
Hermione gasped as she couldn't believe what she had just heard, "But… But…"
Ron interjected, "But the house cup! We're going to lose the house cup at this rate. Honestly I would have just kept shtum. It simply not worth it"
"What? But some things are worth it" Arthur said, gaining a serious expression, "I still have self-respect and I know my self-worth. I'm not going to allow myself to be disrespected and you guys shouldn't either. No amount of house points or cups should ever be at your own expense.
I rather lose the entirety of the house cup for all seven years straight and know I did the right thing by defending myself than win for the next seven years and feel down due to all of disparaging comments I let come my way unchecked"
They were waiting on the stair as it shifted over connecting to another passageway.
"And not to mention," He continued, "All those house points I lost, I could gained them all back, and then some, in my next few classes"
"Aren't you… Aren't you worried about everyone hating you?" Harry finally spoke up, his voice slightly timid, "I mean everyone seems like they really want to win, I wouldn't want to be the reason as to why we lose the house cups"
"Hmm, I understand where you're coming from, but as long as the people that matter most to me don't hate me or think bad about me then the opinions of everyone else shouldn't really matter" Arthur shrugged, "Not everyone is going to like you and not everyone has to."
Harry's eyes widened faintly as he blinked, he nearly forgot to get off the stairwell.
"How do you do it…" Neville asked breathlessly, jogging up behind them. He had been quietly tailing them for some time now, his curiosity outweighing his usual hesitation.
His cheeks were flushed a bright red from exertion, his robes singed and dusted with soot, particularly along the sleeves—evidence of mishap during their potions class.
Arthur turned toward him just as Neville slowed to a stop, panting slightly.
"How can you be so confident?" Neville continued, his eyes wide with awe and just a tinge of disbelief. "Professor Snape is terrifying. I could never talk back to him like that… not in a million years."
Arthur chuckled softly, and with a casual flick of his wand, he casted a quick spell. Neville's face was suddenly clean, and his robes looked freshly pressed—as if the morning had never happened.
"Thanks," he murmured, almost shyly.
"I suppose it comes down to how I decide to view myself," Arthur said thoughtfully. "I can't control how others perceive me, but I can control how I perceive myself."
Arthur walked ahead, his stride confident, his presence naturally commanding. With a look over his shoulder and a small, charming grin, he added,
"And I choose to see myself as someone with nothing to fear—so, I don't."
The words hung in the air with surprising weight, and before long, Neville and the others found themselves following after him, their footsteps quickening almost instinctively. It was as if Arthur carried with him a magnetic pull—an energy that drew people in.
---
Lunch – Great Hall
When lunchtime finally rolled around, Arthur sat at the Gryffindor table, eating with calm precision despite the occasional stares and whispers that circled around him. He paid them no mind, his posture relaxed as he chewed leisurely.
Then, without warning, Fred and George Weasley flanked him, each taking a seat on either side, having displaced the students originally sitting beside Arthur.
"We heard you lost Gryffindor twenty points," Fred said, his tone serious.
"That I did," Arthur replied smoothly, not even pausing his meal.
"And during Snape's class, no less," George added, squinting at him.
"Correct again." Arthur nodded, eyes twinkling with amusement.
The twins narrowed their eyes, exchanging a glance… and then grinned broadly, their expressions nearly identical.
"We heard how it happened," they said in unison, their voices full of mischief and admiration. "Absolutely brilliant!"
Fred clapped Arthur on the shoulder, while George did the same on the other side. Arthur couldn't help but chuckle under their enthusiastic praise.
"A shame we weren't there to witness it firsthand," Fred declared dramatically, pressing a hand to his heart.
"A real tragedy," George nodded solemnly. "You've got some serious guts, mate."
"No doubt about it," George added, both brothers now leaning back with identical grins.
Arthur laughed between bites, clearly amused by the attention. "Thanks, you two."
---
Later – The Library
By the time their classes wrapped up and the afternoon freed them, Arthur, Merlin, Gwyneth, and Lance had gathered in the quietest corner of the library. Scrolls, quills, and books were sprawled across their shared table.
Gwyneth slumped over her notes, her hand draped dramatically across her forehead. "This is only the first week! Why do we already have so much homework?!"
"It's not so bad," Arthur replied with an encouraging smile. "We'll finish it together, and then we'll have the entire weekend to ourselves."
"Exactly," Lance smirked, leaning forward eagerly. "And we'll be free to have our duel without any lingering assignments weighing us down."
Gwyneth perked up slightly. "Wait—duel? What duel?"
As Lance launched into an animated explanation about the upcoming friendly duel between himself and Arthur, the two boys spoke with such intensity it sounded like they were planning a miniature war.
Meanwhile, Merlin leaned in toward Arthur, keeping her voice low.
"I heard you let your emotions get the better of you during Snape's lesson," she said, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. "Want to tell me what happened?"
Arthur groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "You should've heard what he called me… and it's only the first day."
Merlin chuckled, unsurprised. "Honestly? I figured something like that would happen."
The four of them continued working in peaceful harmony—interrupted only by quiet jokes, whispered banter, and the sound of turning pages.
Then tomorrow quickly came, marking the first of many duels between Lance and Arthur.
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