[Third Person Pov]
"Rest well, Arthur. You deserve it. Thank you for your bravery and for risking your life to protect your friends," Dumbledore said, his voice calm yet sincere as he gave a small nod of approval.
"That's what friends are for, Headmaster," Arthur replied without hesitation, returning the nod with quiet conviction.
"I couldn't agree more," Dumbledore said, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips. He placed a gentle hand on Arthur's shoulder, the gesture one of solidarity rather than authority, before turning away. His long wizard robes flowed behind him as he walked toward the exit, his posture dignified as always.
Arthur watched him go, his expression neutral, his thoughts guarded.
The moment Dumbledore disappeared from sight and the curtains around Arthur's bed were drawn shut, the air beside him shimmered faintly, like heat distorting the horizon. Merlin materialized at his side, her illusion dissolving like mist. Her expression was serious as she raised her hand and traced a brief symbol in the air. A subtle ward settled into place, ensuring their conversation would remain unheard.
"He's wary of you," Merlin said quietly. "He's not going to trust you the way he once did."
"It's fine," Arthur replied calmly, shifting slightly as he relaxed deeper into the medical wing bed. His voice carried no frustration or concern. "Trust can be earned. It's perfectly reasonable for him to be suspicious of me, given everything that's happened."
Merlin studied him closely, her sharp eyes searching his face. "You seem awfully confident," she remarked. "Trust, once broken, isn't something easily repaired. Especially not with someone like him."
Arthur's lips curled into a faint, easy grin, the kind that suggested he saw something others didn't. "That would normally be true," he admitted. "But you of all people should know that with magic, the impossible becomes merely a suggestion."
Merlin raised a brow, intrigued. "Care to elaborate?"
Arthur gave a casual shrug. "Simple. Under normal circumstances, regaining the trust of someone like Albus Dumbledore would be nearly impossible. But you're forgetting an important detail." His eyes flickered with quiet certainty. "His companion. Fawkes."
Merlin's expression shifted slightly.
"He likes me," Arthur continued. "He understands my nature. He knows what I am and what I'm not. A phoenix doesn't give its approval lightly. And if Fawkes trusts me, then Dumbledore will eventually follow. A phoenix's judgment isn't something he would ever ignore."
Merlin's eyes widened slightly in realization before she nodded slowly. "I see now. When you spoke of magic, you weren't referring to spells or enchantments. You meant magic in its purest form. Magical beings, their instincts, their judgment." She crossed her arms thoughtfully. "I'll admit, I initially thought you were considering something far more… intrusive. Like manipulating his mind to restore his trust."
Arthur's expression immediately fell, genuine hurt flashing across his face. "What?" he said, his voice quieter now. "Do you really think I would resort to brainwashing someone? Do you think so little of me?"
Merlin froze, caught off guard by his reaction. She scratched her cheek awkwardly, her confidence faltering. "I… may have misjudged you," she admitted sheepishly. "Sorry."
Arthur looked away, sulking for a brief moment before letting out a quiet sigh. He shook his head, choosing not to dwell on it.
"Anyway," he said, his tone returning to normal. "Do you have it?"
Merlin's lips curved into a knowing smirk. She reached into the folds of her robe and withdrew a small object, holding it between her fingers.
A red ruby.
It gleamed with an unnatural brilliance, its surface smooth and flawless. When the light struck it at the right angle, a faint speck of gold shimmered deep within its core, like a star trapped inside.
If Harry or any of the others had seen it, they would have been frozen in absolute shock.
Because this was no ordinary gemstone.
It was the Philosopher's Stone.
The very same stone everyone believed Arthur had destroyed.
Merlin began casually tossing it into the air and catching it again, her smirk widening. "Your plan worked perfectly," she said. "The replica we created was flawless. Convincing enough to deceive everyone. Dumbledore believes it was destroyed to protect it from misuse, and Voldemort believes it's gone entirely. Neither of them suspect the truth."
Arthur exhaled deeply, the tension leaving his body all at once as he sank further into his pillow. "I won't lie, Mel," he admitted. "It was so convincing that for a moment, even I thought we'd actually destroyed the real one. I was genuinely worried you hadn't switched them in time."
Merlin let out a soft laugh, clearly amused. She placed a hand over her chest in mock offense, her lips forming an exaggerated pout. "Do you really think I'd be that careless?"
Arthur gave her a flat, unimpressed look. "I wouldn't put it past you. Especially if you thought it would be funny."
Merlin blinked, then burst into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand as her shoulders shook. "Touché," she admitted.
Arthur suddenly began to complain in an exaggerated, pitiful tone. "But did you really have to make that explosion so powerful? I swear, when I hit the ground I felt at least one rib crack. Maybe two."
Merlin lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, though her lips twitched as if she were holding back amusement. "Hey I'm sorry. It had to be believable. If the explosion had been weak or underwhelming, it would've raised suspicion. You can't fake the destruction of something that important with a tiny puff of smoke."
Arthur stared at her without blinking.
She was smiling far too widely for someone who claimed to be apologizing.
In fact, there was a certain smug pride in her expression, as if she were internally congratulating herself for the flawless execution of her spell.
"You enjoyed that," Arthur accused flatly.
Merlin's smile only widened.
A second later, neither of them could keep a straight face any longer. Laughter burst from them at the same time, spontaneous and unrestrained. It wasn't just from amusement at the explosion or the deception—it was the thrill of a secret shared between only the two of them. Their friends, Dumbledore, even Voldemort, were all operating under a carefully crafted lie, and only they knew the truth.
Arthur's laughter gradually faded, softening into a quiet exhale. His gaze drifted downward to the sheet draped over his lap, fingers curling slightly into the fabric.
After a moment, his voice came out softer than before. "Do you think I did the right thing?" he asked quietly. "Was it selfish?"
Merlin didn't hesitate. "Yes," she said bluntly. "Your reason was absolutely selfish. You wanted the Philosopher's Stone so you could extend the Flamels' lives. You didn't want to say goodbye when their time came. You couldn't bear the thought of losing them."
Arthur's hand tightened into a fist.
Merlin noticed the tension in his jaw and the way his shoulders stiffened. She let out a small sigh. Her expression softened as she leaned forward and gently brushed his hair away from his face.
"But so what?" she continued lightly. "What's wrong with being selfish once in a while? If anyone deserves to cling to something they care about, it's you. You've already lost more than most people ever should."
Arthur looked up at her.
She smiled—bright, warm, and unwavering. It was the kind of smile that could pull him out of his darkest thoughts without effort.
"And besides," she went on, "even if your motivation was selfish, the result wasn't. In the original course of events, the Flamels didn't truly have a choice about the Stone. Circumstances pushed them into destroying it. Now? Now their lives—and the decision of when to finally rest—are entirely in their own hands. You gave them that freedom. That's not a small thing."
Arthur closed his eyes as her hand rested gently against his head, warmth seeping into him through the simple touch.
"You really know how to cheer someone up," he murmured. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Merlin didn't even pause to consider her response. "You'd probably die in a ditch somewhere."
Arthur let out a weary laugh, a crooked smile forming on his face as he nodded in agreement. "Yeah… that sounds about right."
Without warning, Merlin's form faded from view, her presence vanishing as she lifted the isolation ward surrounding them. The subtle barrier dissolved just as the curtains around Arthur's bed were pulled aside.
Madam Pomfrey stepped in, her expression attentive and professional. She caught sight of Arthur staring at the empty space beside him with faint confusion before he quickly turned toward her, realization dawning.
"Is something the matter, dear?" she asked with concern.
"Ah—no, nothing," Arthur replied quickly. "I'm just… tired. That's all." He offered an awkward smile.
She nodded, satisfied with the explanation. "That's perfectly understandable. Now then, let me give you one final examination before I discharge you. Tell me if it hurts where I touch."
Arthur pulled the sheets closer around himself and blinked up at her dramatically. "Please be gentle~ I'm still a bit sensitive"
Madam Pomfrey froze.
She stared at him in complete silence, her expression utterly blank.
Arthur immediately looked down, his ears turning a deep shade of red. "Sorry," he muttered in embarrassment.
Beside him, invisible and undetectable, Merlin clamped both hands over her mouth. Her shoulders shook violently as she fought to contain herself.
'No, no, not yet,' she told herself desperately. 'I can't laugh right now. I have to hold it in.'
The effort alone nearly broke her.
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