Four Kingdom War (2/?)
Title: Four Kingdom War
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating and Warnings: PG-13 for language, sexual references, and some violence. MASSIVE AU, LIKE WHOA.
Summary: Like hell I'm writing that whole thing out again. All you need to know is: Draco and Harry are princes in an AU English history where the Hogwarts houses are kingdoms (and are at war with each other). They fall in love and a bunch of dramatic and tragic stuff happens. The end.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Pairings: Draco/Harry, Sirius/Remus, Ron/Hermione, Neville/Luna, Seamus/Ginny, Blaise/Pansy, Fred/Angelina, George/Katie, and some others I can’t think of right now.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One
ADDITIONAL NOTES: This chapter is a bit... well, we get into the romantic stuff. And I'm a schmoop. It's not TOO bad, but just be warned. And I apologize for Hermione's personality being a mixture of her first/second year self and pre-fifth year Ginny. She gets better. Also, Harry is kind a jerk sometimes. I unintenionally wrote him as snarky, Slytherin!Harry. But it's fun to write him this way, so I'm not changing it. I'll shut up now.
Chapter Two: Silver Eyes
Remus Lupin never did see the point of being near crowds of people, unless he happened to be in a library. So many brushing touches, so many strange scents, so many voices swimming around him… He was starting to think that too many people scared him a bit nowadays. It had been much easier when there was a huge, black dog trotting faithfully by his side, snarling at anyone who got too close, and biting them if they said a harmful word or hurt him. But there wasn’t much he could do about their taunts now that Padfoot was gone. He just… wasn’t strong enough.
"Remus!" a voice called, frustrated, clenched fists pounding on his front door. "Remus, come out right now!"
But the man merely buried his face further into his arms, not moving an inch from the table.
"Remus, please! You can’t just lock yourself away! Why are you like this? You know we care about you, right? All we’re trying to do is he-"
"SHUT UP!"
The sentence died in the young woman’s throat. Never, in all seventeen years of knowing him, had the Ravenclaw knight (and part-time professor) shouted at her.
"You don’t understand, Ms. Granger," Remus mumbled hoarsely, rubbing at his eyes. "I can’t leave. Not until it’s safe."
Hermione didn’t understand what her teacher meant, but she decided to play along.
"And when will that be?" she asked cautiously, not wanting to set him off again.
"Two days. Possibly more, since he’s not here…"
The girl crinkled her forehead in confusion.
"Who, Remus?"
"My-! Ah… My name is Professor Lupin to you, Ms. Granger. And this is my business, not yours."
Hermione let out a sigh of defeat, slumping against the front wall. All the children at Corbeaugriffe’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were counting on her to convince their favorite professor into coming back. What would she tell them?
"I‘m sorry for snapping at you, Hermione. But… I’m still adjusting to being on my own."
Her heart wrenched at his broken tone, feeling slightly guilty for bothering him at all. She’d almost forgotten that Professor Lupin’s dog had died just last month. And it was such a sweet dog, always coming to visit during classes… Everyone at Corbeaugriffe would miss Padfoot. Remus, the poor man, was all alone in this world now and he needed far more time to heal than they did, she decided. Hermione vaguely remembered being told once that she had a soft spot for strays (which was partly true, if you considered how many unwanted pets she kept) and the professor, with his shabby clothes and dark-rimmed eyes, was her greatest project yet.
"I’m a grown man, Hermione, not some stray cat you plucked from a ditch. I can take care of myself," Remus said suddenly, and it startled her so much that she considered the possibility that he could read minds. "You’re clever, yes, but a cleverer witch would have given up by now. Please, just leave me in peace."
The man heard no response and he wondered if she had actually listened, but then there was a sharp gasp and he bolted. Hermione may be persistently annoying at times, but she was still one of his favorite students. Remus flung open the door roughly, the hinges groaning their protest, his wand outstretched in front of him. It took a moment to register that Hermione was no longer standing there, but sprawled across the ground with a huge black dog sitting on her legs, and in her place was a young boy with unruly black hair and very familiar green eyes. He grinned brightly at Remus, not at all alarmed by the wand that was pointed at his chest.
"I believe we haven’t been introduced, though I’ve heard so much about you," he said in way of greeting, shooting a look at the dog (who snorted and climbed off Hermione). "And I’m sure you’ve heard of me. My name is Harry Potter."
Hermione let out a squeak and quickly got to her feet, dusting the dirt from her clothes. She was in the presence of royalty. How embarrassing! Remus wasn’t faring any better, his eyes widened slightly with shock. This was Lily’s and James’s son. But more importantly, this was Sirius’s godson. Which meant…
"Padfoot?" he asked, his voice catching, and he reached out a hesitant hand.
The dog promptly nuzzled its nose into his palm, whining softly. Harry watched as Remus held back tears, leaning down to wrap his arms around the newfoundland, and a small smile appeared on Harry’s face that had Hermione holding back another squeak… But then he turned to her and she let it slip.
"Been taking care of him, have you?" he questioned lightly, settling against the wall. "We heard everything you were saying, by the way. Thanks for trying."
"Oh! Well--" Hermione murmured, uncertain that she’d actually done anything to help Remus. "I’ve just been pestering him to come back to teach, really. Probably making it worse…"
"Nonsense. At least you’ve given him someone to talk to."
She was taken aback by that and wondered how someone she barely knew could make her blush this hard. Remus and the dog slipped into the house, but the girl didn’t notice at all. Too busy making a fool of herself.
"Are you here on business?" was the only thing she could think of to ask, cursing herself for it afterward.
"Yes, sort of. Hmm… You seem to be the intelligent type, am I right?"
She was sure her cheeks couldn’t get any redder.
"I-I wouldn’t say-"
"Of course you are," Harry interrupted with another smile, though this one seemed more like a smirk to her. "You wouldn’t happen to know a way past the south Slytherin gate, would you? Or if any Slytherins come through here?"
Hermione certainly hadn’t expected that, but she didn’t let her surprise show.
"The Gate? I’ve no clue," she replied clearly, having shaken herself from the daze she’d fallen into. "But there is one Slytherin who makes residence in the local pub every Thursday. Orders white wine, the expensive kind, and keeps pretty much to himself. He always wears a black cloak with a hood, but I’ve seen blonde hair peeking out from it…the most intense silver eyes, too…"
Harry gave her a strange look.
"I’m one of the barmaids," she elaborated, slightly ashamed to say so. "And we don’t see too many Slytherins around here, so I was quite fascinated with him the first couple months."
But that wasn’t what was bothering the Gryffindor Prince. Something she had said startled him and he seemed to be trying to pull himself together.
"Did he…" Harry paused, worrying his bottom lip. "Did he have pale skin? And a darkish aura?"
Hermione opened her mouth to ask how he could possibly know that, but no sound came out. The silver eyes she had spoken of moments before were staring out at her from the shop across the street, narrowed in warning.
"No, sorry," she said quickly, putting on her most sincere expression. "He had colored skin and his aura proved him to be harmless. One of the weaker Slytherin lot."
She was, of course, lying through her teeth, but there was a dark-skinned boy from Slytherin that came to the bar every once in awhile (though not as frequent as Silver Eyes). His name was Blaise, if her memory served her right. Quite rude, but not at all dangerous.
"Well, that’ll have to do," Harry sighed, oddly disappointed. "Thank you, Ms.-?"
She could have slapped herself.
"Granger! Hermione Granger… I’m a muggle-born, you know, but mum and dad moved us out here so I could learn magic. Professor Lupin says I’m quite good, though I can never be sure. This is my last year at Corbeaugriffe, actually, but the graduation exams sound so hard, I don’t think I can-"
Harry held up a hand to quiet her.
"Do you suppose we can finish this conversation as we walk? I’d really like to check out the bar… If it’s not too much trouble."
"Oh, I’m so sorry!" Hermione said, horrified at herself. "I always talk too much when I meet someone new…"
The prince waved off her apology, not at all bothered. He understood why she was near to rambling. Every common girl back in Gryffindor acted this way around him. It came with the whole ‘royalty’ package. Not that he necessarily wanted the attention, but he couldn’t just tell her to shut up. His mother had taught him some manners. So, as they strolled through the marketplace, Harry patiently listened to every word the young girl said and nodded at all the right times. A skill that had taken him ten years to perfect.
"-and Crouch just handed her an outfit, cool as could be. I felt simply awful for the poor creature. I’ve tried telling her that it’s all for the best, but she won’t have any of it. And Ron wasn’t making it any better, mind you, he’s so insensitive-"
Then she froze, and it seemed like the light had gone out in her eyes. Harry himself was startled. She couldn’t possibly mean Ron Weasley?
"Well, at any rate, she was drunk by the end of the night."
And it was like Hermione had never even mentioned him. She fell silent after that, staring determinedly ahead. He had a feeling that she was talking about the Ron he knew, yet didn’t want to dwell on it, because of The Law. Harry frowned as he watched her shoulders slump and her hands clench. This was one of those days when he hated everyone with royal blood in them. That stupid law had made his new friend lose her liveliness. She just didn’t seem the same when she wasn’t talking a mile a minute.
"Harry!" a voice called from one of the market booths. "Harry, over here!"
Oh, hell no.
"Harry! Why are you ignoring me?"
"Forgive me, Cho," he said bewitchingly, turning to her with the grace of an aristocrat (which he normally didn’t possess). "But I was distracted by this delightful young lady."
The girl, all fair skin and silky black hair, was just as he’d remembered her. Except now she was wearing second-hand clothes, working at a corn booth, and had an unpleasant scowl upon her pink lips. Hermione went scarlet at his tone of voice, which he knew from much practice was even more disarming than his smiles, and she nearly fainted when he slipped an arm around her torso. In fact, if he hadn’t whispered in her ear that he wanted to get rid of the other girl by pretending to be with her, she might have. Two seconds later had Hermione giggling like a little third year and nuzzling against his chest. She hadn’t gotten the lead part in every school play for nothing.
"It seems you’re busy," Cho ground out tersely, going back to her corn husking. "I’ll talk to you later, if you’re still around."
Harry nodded distractedly as he slipped his fingers under Hermione’s shirt, dragging her down an alleyway that was nearby. As soon as they were concealed, they collapsed against each other in breathless laughter.
"Very good acting, Ms. Granger."
"Oh, call me Hermione. You really should be on first name bases with someone you just molested."
"Me? How dare you! I would never do such a thing."
Hermione snorted with amusement.
"You sound so much like Silver Eyes, it’s scary."
She covered her mouth with her hands, realizing what she’d just let slip. Harry’s gaze had turned sharp.
"That sounds like the Silver Eyes I’m looking for and you obviously know this Slytherin better than I thought," he hissed at her. He didn’t like being lied to. "Tell me what you know of him."
"I’m sorry!" Hermione apologized guiltily, her eyes flickering around to check for eavesdroppers. "He was there, across the street, when you asked me about him and he was warning me not to say anything. Whenever he comes to the bar, he pays me a good bit of money to keep silent about his ethnicity, which means he must come from a powerful family. I was afraid he would send someone after me if I told you."
"He does come from a powerful family," Harry said dryly, though he no longer seemed angry. "Draco Malfoy is the son of Slytherin’s king."
"Oh, my goodness! Silver Eyes is Draco Malfoy?"
"I strongly suspect it, which makes me even more eager to see that bar. Shall we continue on our way?"
"How do you know the Slytherin prince?" Hermione asked curiously as they set out again.
"He and his father visited our kingdom to negotiate the return of a Slytherin subject."
"And you want to see him again?"
"No!" Harry snapped, then took a deep breath to calm himself down. "I mean, I don’t want to see him. He’s a git. I want to see the Slytherin kingdom."
"Why?"
"Because I’m nosy. Mum always said it’d get me in trouble, which it probably will, but I want to do this. I used to have friends in Slytherin when I was very young."
"How do you know they were Slytherins?"
"Their toys. They always had snakes and the one who came most often had a-" Harry faltered, a thought having struck him. "A dragon."
"Draco means dragon," Hermione supplied unnecessarily, just as disturbed as he was. "You don’t think…"
"It was a little blond boy with gray eyes. But Malfoy’s eyes are silver, not gray."
"Wizards can acquire powers that subtly change their appearance."
"Can we just pretend that it isn’t possible?" Harry muttered, following Hermione into the Raven’s Wing. "I don’t want it to be him."
The pub wasn’t busy on a Sunday, but there were still people scattered here and there. It was small and cozy, filled with soft blue orbs of light that floated in mid-air. There was a fire, also blue, in the grate on the far side of the room, where several cushy armchairs surrounded it. Patrons in the chairs were reading books from the shelves lining some of the walls in the pub, something Harry was sure he would never see if they were in any other kingdom. The bar itself was made of polished oak and was quite deserted, except for one lone figure. Everything from the blond hair peeking out from under the drawn up hood, the proud posture with which he sat, and the hum of dark energy encompassing him told Harry that it had to be the young Malfoy.
"Draco Malfoy," Harry said quietly as he approached, not wanting the other customers to hear.
"Harry Potter," the prince replied in a resigned tone, keeping his head down. "It seems Ms. Granger couldn’t keep her mouth shut."
Hermione winced, stopping a distance away from the bar. Harry, however, pressed on and took a seat beside the Slytherin.
"Will you punish her for it?" he asked sharply, gazing into those silver eyes he remembered so well.
"She is not of my kingdom. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to."
Which I don’t, his demeanor spoke clearly and Harry relaxed. He had been afraid that Hermione would be harmed for helping him.
"I’m not my father, Potter," Draco said somewhat sulkily, drinking from the mug he was holding. "I have no desire to seriously injure or kill anyone. Poking fun and picking fights is one thing, but what my father does is another entirely. That’s why I was so protective of Snape. He shares my views and treats me like a father should, instead of - not like Lucius treats me."
This last part was said flatly and Harry knew not to mention it.
"Can you get me into Slytherin?" he asked instead, determined to stick to his plan.
"I can, yes. But I won’t."
"Why not?"
"Because you would be killed on sight if someone recognized you," Draco explained. "I’d rather not have that on my conscience."
"You don’t want to feel guilty," Harry spat resentfully, but Draco held up a hand to silence him.
"I don’t want to feel miserable, petit rouge."
Petit rouge? Harry nearly gasped. The name meant little red and was one of the nicknames the blond boy from his childhood had always called him. He wasn’t sure if Draco had used the name flippantly, or if he actually remembered as well and was trying to tell him so.
"Grand vert," he responded, in hopes that Draco would recognize the name Harry had used for him: big green.
"Don’t call me that," Draco said harshly, but there was a definite change to his aura. It had surged, as if excited. "Not here."
"Then let’s go somewhere else."
Hermione watched them both get up and leave the pub. She did not follow, having felt she was invisible from the moment the two boys began speaking to each other. Harry led Draco back to Remus’s house, pausing before opening the door.
"Hopefully they used a silencing charm," he murmured embarrassedly, listening for sounds that he never wished to hear.
The house was quiet. Harry tugged Draco inside, locking the door behind them.
"Why didn’t you say anything before, Dragon?" Harry asked breathlessly, as they both had run most of the way there.
"Because, Lion, I’m not stupid," Draco said, attempting to be mocking, but coming off as sad. "Our fathers would have went mental."
Harry was oddly reminded of the Shakespearian play, Romeo and Juliet. He shook away the thought, mildly horrified with himself.
"Our fathers are already mental," he grumbled, glaring in the general direction of Gryffindor. "Making laws that haven’t done any good. It’s not like people don’t sneak over the borders."
"Like you’re doing now?"
"And you!"
"Do you still want to go to Slytherin?" Draco asked, pretending he hadn’t heard Harry’s retort.
"I don’t think so," Harry said bemusedly. "That was sort of an excuse to…"
"To follow me?"
"Yes."
They stared dubiously at each other. It was an interesting situation they had landed in. Once best friends, they were now separated by more than borders and culture - the Law. Harry felt his hatred and frustration for the decree peak, his opinion reflected in Draco’s set jaw. Both jumped when the bedroom door opened and Sirius stepped out (thankfully clothed), looking content and sleepy. Harry blushed at the sight of him.
"Remus still asleep?" he asked, mortified. It was like imagining his parents having sex.
"Yes, but he’ll wake up in a moment-" Sirius broke off suddenly, having spotted the Slytherin prince. "What’s he doing here?"
"He was invited. Watch your tone, Sirius."
The Gryffindor knight, bound by his oath to serve the royal family, went mute and rigid. He glared at Harry.
"Don’t look at me like that," Harry sighed, running a hand through his untidy hair. "I’m sorry for snapping. Draco’s my friend from years ago, don’t you remember? You used to call him Doting Dragon because he always left me gifts?"
"That was him?" Sirius questioned uncertainly, his anger fading. "How do you know?"
"He called me petit rouge. And I can just feel it."
Sirius sat down at the kitchen table, his expression troubled.
"Harry, this is even worse than me trying to see Remus. You two are Gryffindor and Slytherin, for Merlin’s sake. If anyone were to find out-"
"No one will find out," Draco spoke up, giving Harry a pointed look. "Because Harry will not come near Slytherin. Ever."
"But, mon vert-" Harry began reproachfully.
"Don’t call me that!"
Draco took a shaky breath and Harry realized he was on the verge of tears.
"I am not yours, Potter," he tried to growl, failing to sound menacing at all. "We have no obligation to each other. It’s best we forget this and go our separate ways, before we can form an attachment again."
"The attachment from before never faded," Harry argued, holding up his left hand. A silver ring glittered there, an object of much speculation among the Gryffindor subjects. "I’ve kept your gifts. Even if I do go back, they will remind me. How am I supposed to forget about you?"
"I am a Slytherin prince!" Draco bellowed, sounding nearly as dangerous as his father. "I have cursed Muggles and their supporters, such as your precious Weasleys! I have imprisoned and interrogated persons accused of treason against my father! I have tortured those same prisoners for lying to me! I am NOT the same boy you remember and I advise you to stop giving out your trust so easily!"
"Did you do any of those things willingly?" Harry asked calmly, unfazed.
The fire seemed to have drained out of Draco. He sunk into a chair, not meeting Harry’s eyes.
"Yes, I-" but even without looking at him, Draco couldn’t lie. "My father forced me."
"It appears we have a knack for telling the truth when we’re around each other."
"My family’s doing," Draco said, more to himself than to Harry, sending a feeble glare at the ring on the Gryffindor prince’s finger. "Take that off, if you want it to stop."
"What does your family have to do with it?"
"There is some ancient magic in our blood that prevents us and our intended to lie to each other. The magic is activated early on in the courtship process and is most strong when gifts are worn while in close proximity. My intentions were not to court you, of course, I just wanted you to be my friend - but the magic must have mistaken it for courtship when I gave you that ring."
Harry snatched the ring off his finger immediately, setting it on the table. The heightened awareness he’d had of Draco’s presence and his urge to show complete honesty vanished almost completely. 'Almost' being the key word.
"Will I always feel that when I’m around you?" Harry asked nervously, pondering at the odd twinge in his stomach.
"Yes. It is very hard to convince the magic that you are not who I intend to marry once the connection is formed. The only way, that I know of, to permanently break it is hatred. We must genuinely hate each other, which isn’t going to happen soon, so there’s no point dwelling on it. If we are not near each other, the connection will practically be void. That’s why I want you to go back to Gryffindor."
"Practically void?" Harry repeated, seizing onto the uncertainty coloring Draco’s words.
"For you, it will be void. You’ll feel nothing once we’re out of range. My social activities will not affect you at all," Draco admitted grudgingly. "And for a time, it will be void for me as well. When you marry, however, things will change. It will somewhat harm me."
"Harm you? How?"
"No physical harm, just emotional. It will affect me as the death of a loved one would. I’ll be agitated and unapproachable for about a week, then the bond will become void again as long as we remain separated. No big deal."
"No big-?" Harry sputtered, shocked by Draco’s show of self-indifference. "What if I don’t want to make you feel like that?"
"Then you better prepare yourself for a lonely life and hope your parents produce another heir before they die. The only way is to not marry, unless you marry me, which is illegal even if we wanted to."
And I might want to. The thought was as clear as if it had been spoken. Harry and Draco shuddered, each blaming the other for the traitorous thought, yet knowing deep down that they both were responsible. Desperately ignoring his sudden notice of Draco’s handsomeness, Harry abruptly changed the subject.
"Are you staying here, Sirius?" he asked the Gryffindor knight, turning from the source of his internal conflict. "I can’t stay much longer."
"I think I will," Sirius replied quickly, understanding Harry’s need for mindless conversation. "James can screw himself, for all I care."
"I’d watch what you’re saying to his son," Remus, who had just emerged from the bedroom, warned him unconcernedly.
"If he has any sense, James will let me stay. He knows how I feel about you and the Law."
"You’re a suicidal idiot, but I love you," Remus said, helplessly happy. He noticed the other boy sitting at his table. "Am I hosting a royal luncheon? Merlin, two princes in one day…"
"I was just leaving," Draco assured him, brushing off his robes as he stood. "Good-bye, Prince Harry."
"Good-bye, Prince Draco," Harry supplied in kind, the formalness stinging his heart. "I hope to see you again someday."
Draco pressed his lips together, refusing to speak, for he knew that he could not lie to Harry. He wished to see him again, but he didn’t want to get Harry’s hopes up. With a nod at them all, Draco swept from the house haughtily.
"Don’t know who he’s fooling," Sirius snorted at this departure. "I could see him stopping himself from agreeing."
"I hate this," Harry said dispiritedly, not needing to clarify what he meant. Sirius and Remus understood.
"When you’re older, you can challenge the law," Remus tried to give him hope. "It is the Wizengamot’s decision, not your father’s."
"I don’t want to wait. I may have just found Draco again, but I have a feeling that the magic in his blood intensifies the desire to be with him. It’s like something is clawing at my insides. The further away from me he is, the more it hurts. Don’t you feel that way about Sirius?"
"Yes, I do," Remus replied as Sirius watched him eagerly. "In your case, though, that will fade after Draco crosses into Slytherin territory. You have to know your limitations, Harry."
"My limitations?" Harry reiterated incredulously, looking back and forth between Remus and his godfather. "Bloody good example you’re setting. It isn’t illegal to approach the Wizengamot with a request."
"It must be a monarch, Harry. Do you really want to ask your father to give your request? He’d want to know why and learning that you’re taken with the Slytherin prince will make his answer an automatic refusal."
"But what if I don’t ask my father…" Harry said slowly, something occurring to him. "I can ask Queen Bones!"
"The Hufflepuff queen?" Sirius sniggered while Remus’s expression turned thoughtful. "Why?"
"Hufflepuff is Gryffindor’s silent ally. Queen Bones would welcome a visit from me and I’m sure she would forward my request to the council. Once a hearing is scheduled, I could gather others who wish for the law to be changed. Like Hermione and Ron, Neville and Luna, the Pravati family, and you two. We can all plead our cases and then, the council can vote. I’m sure they’ll change it if they see how much pain it’s causing."
"Yes, they might," Remus agreed, tapping his chin. "But I would still wait, Harry."
"Remus!"
"Give it a week, Harry. It will give you time to decide if what you feel is real, you’ll be able to inform everyone of the plan, and Albus Dumbledore will have been sworn in as the new Chief Warlock. You stand a much better chance with him than you do the current chief."
"Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed with a smile. "Oh, that’s worth waiting for. He’ll definitely lift the Law."
"Don’t be so sure, Harry. He is a kind man, but he is also a fair man. If not enough evidence is presented to him, he may not lift it," Remus warned, not wanting Harry to get his hopes up. "Are you sure you can’t stay for a bit? I’d love to get to know Sirius’s godson better, past the fact that you’re just as impulsive as he is."
"I am impulsive, I admit. I know what I want. But I get that from both of my parents," Harry said, taking the tea Remus was offering. "And I’m too curious for my own good. When I was young, I’d wander into the forest… I don’t remember what happened, but Dad said I was injured by an animal. I was never allowed to visit the forest again and he never let me get a pet, which I still want. I love Quidditch and Sirius says I’m a good Seeker. My best subject is Defense Against the Dark Arts, I’m okay at most everything else, and I’m doomed at Potions. I like to read, but our library is only filled with books by Gryffindor authors and adventure stories and biographies depicting acts of stupid bravery is getting old. There aren’t even any Muggle books!"
Remus seemed faintly amused at Harry’s indignation, though was pleased at his enjoyment of reading.
"I know I’m sounding like a whining child," Harry misinterpreted the look, biting his lip. "But besides not being with Sirius, don’t you have everything you want?"
"Well…yes, actually," Remus said in slight surprise, beginning to understand. "You’re a prince, though. Surely you have everything you want besides Malfoy?"
"I’ve got the best broomstick, but I can only play Quidditch in the courtyard with the castle servants, not my friends. In fact, I hardly see my friends at all. Our cooks are the best in the kingdom, but I don’t care - I’d much rather be able to have a meal with my parents more than twice a month. My teachers are brilliant and honorable, but none of them have the patience to teach me properly. My Potions professor has pretty much given up on me because I move too slow and my Defense teacher is annoyed because I move too fast. I have no Care of Magical Creatures teacher at all and Dad always makes sure me and our groundskeeper, Hagrid, don’t speak about creatures. The last time we went somewhere together was at least four years ago. I’m lucky Sirius was there, or I would have gone insane. And to top it all off? My Dad, though I love him to death, is an idiot when it comes to our subjects. There are people like the Weasleys, who can hardly afford the essentials, and he’s still buying me things that I don’t need or want! I’ve tried to tell him this, but it’s like talking to a brick wall. And Mum is too busy with her charms experiments to notice. So, yes, I’m just a little bit unhappy."
"I’ve noticed those things, too," Sirius agreed with him, his expression turning hard. "James is in serious need of an attitude adjustment. He still thinks he’s sixteen. I admit, I was just as horrible as he was - but I’ve changed. He hasn’t. The unfortunate thing is that I’ve sworn my loyalty to him as a knight (one of the worst decisions I’ve ever made) and cannot speak out against him. I’ve had to keep silent."
"Well, I don’t have to. I’ve been planning a movement for months and the trial will be the starting point."
"You aren’t thinking of a revolution?" Remus asked concernedly, leaning towards him.
"If it comes to that," Harry said with a hint of vindictiveness. "I’ll make sure my father knows nothing about my involvement with the other measures and convince him to handle things peacefully. He wouldn’t physically harm the subjects, anyway. I’m just helping along a rebellion that’s been brewing among the Gryffindors for years."
"What if your father finds out you helped them?" Sirius questioned anxiously, but there was underlining interest. "It’s treason. He could have you imprisoned."
"He already has me imprisoned, Sirius, inside the castle grounds. And Mum wouldn’t let him."
"True. That’s a big project, Harry. Will you be able to keep control of everything? What if the subjects get hostile?"
"I’ll threaten them with Hagrid’s pets."
"That might work. Back to the trial, though. How will you convince the council to lift the Law while there’s still a war going on?"
"Lucius Malfoy is the main problem. If I have Queen Bones propose an attack or council with Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff against Slytherin that forces him to give up his power to… No, Draco wouldn’t want… Narcissa! I remember her, she was such a lovely woman. She’s stern enough to rule and kind enough to cooperate with the other kingdoms and Draco would still have the choice to take the throne later on in life."
"All right, enough," Remus interrupted their strategy meeting. "This is too dangerous. Both of you could be executed!"
"It needs to be done!" Harry snapped and Sirius nodded. "You can’t tell me that Ravenclaw isn’t having the same kind of problems!"
"We are, but-"
Harry and Sirius glared at the Ravenclaw professor.
"I’m in," Remus sighed, holding up a hand in surrender.
* * *
Next Chapter
I’m only posting this for one person’s benefit. You know who you are. Oh and Corbeaugriffe (Hermione's school) means 'Ravenclaw' in French, if you were wondering.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating and Warnings: PG-13 for language, sexual references, and some violence. MASSIVE AU, LIKE WHOA.
Summary: Like hell I'm writing that whole thing out again. All you need to know is: Draco and Harry are princes in an AU English history where the Hogwarts houses are kingdoms (and are at war with each other). They fall in love and a bunch of dramatic and tragic stuff happens. The end.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Pairings: Draco/Harry, Sirius/Remus, Ron/Hermione, Neville/Luna, Seamus/Ginny, Blaise/Pansy, Fred/Angelina, George/Katie, and some others I can’t think of right now.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One
ADDITIONAL NOTES: This chapter is a bit... well, we get into the romantic stuff. And I'm a schmoop. It's not TOO bad, but just be warned. And I apologize for Hermione's personality being a mixture of her first/second year self and pre-fifth year Ginny. She gets better. Also, Harry is kind a jerk sometimes. I unintenionally wrote him as snarky, Slytherin!Harry. But it's fun to write him this way, so I'm not changing it. I'll shut up now.
Chapter Two: Silver Eyes
Remus Lupin never did see the point of being near crowds of people, unless he happened to be in a library. So many brushing touches, so many strange scents, so many voices swimming around him… He was starting to think that too many people scared him a bit nowadays. It had been much easier when there was a huge, black dog trotting faithfully by his side, snarling at anyone who got too close, and biting them if they said a harmful word or hurt him. But there wasn’t much he could do about their taunts now that Padfoot was gone. He just… wasn’t strong enough.
"Remus!" a voice called, frustrated, clenched fists pounding on his front door. "Remus, come out right now!"
But the man merely buried his face further into his arms, not moving an inch from the table.
"Remus, please! You can’t just lock yourself away! Why are you like this? You know we care about you, right? All we’re trying to do is he-"
"SHUT UP!"
The sentence died in the young woman’s throat. Never, in all seventeen years of knowing him, had the Ravenclaw knight (and part-time professor) shouted at her.
"You don’t understand, Ms. Granger," Remus mumbled hoarsely, rubbing at his eyes. "I can’t leave. Not until it’s safe."
Hermione didn’t understand what her teacher meant, but she decided to play along.
"And when will that be?" she asked cautiously, not wanting to set him off again.
"Two days. Possibly more, since he’s not here…"
The girl crinkled her forehead in confusion.
"Who, Remus?"
"My-! Ah… My name is Professor Lupin to you, Ms. Granger. And this is my business, not yours."
Hermione let out a sigh of defeat, slumping against the front wall. All the children at Corbeaugriffe’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were counting on her to convince their favorite professor into coming back. What would she tell them?
"I‘m sorry for snapping at you, Hermione. But… I’m still adjusting to being on my own."
Her heart wrenched at his broken tone, feeling slightly guilty for bothering him at all. She’d almost forgotten that Professor Lupin’s dog had died just last month. And it was such a sweet dog, always coming to visit during classes… Everyone at Corbeaugriffe would miss Padfoot. Remus, the poor man, was all alone in this world now and he needed far more time to heal than they did, she decided. Hermione vaguely remembered being told once that she had a soft spot for strays (which was partly true, if you considered how many unwanted pets she kept) and the professor, with his shabby clothes and dark-rimmed eyes, was her greatest project yet.
"I’m a grown man, Hermione, not some stray cat you plucked from a ditch. I can take care of myself," Remus said suddenly, and it startled her so much that she considered the possibility that he could read minds. "You’re clever, yes, but a cleverer witch would have given up by now. Please, just leave me in peace."
The man heard no response and he wondered if she had actually listened, but then there was a sharp gasp and he bolted. Hermione may be persistently annoying at times, but she was still one of his favorite students. Remus flung open the door roughly, the hinges groaning their protest, his wand outstretched in front of him. It took a moment to register that Hermione was no longer standing there, but sprawled across the ground with a huge black dog sitting on her legs, and in her place was a young boy with unruly black hair and very familiar green eyes. He grinned brightly at Remus, not at all alarmed by the wand that was pointed at his chest.
"I believe we haven’t been introduced, though I’ve heard so much about you," he said in way of greeting, shooting a look at the dog (who snorted and climbed off Hermione). "And I’m sure you’ve heard of me. My name is Harry Potter."
Hermione let out a squeak and quickly got to her feet, dusting the dirt from her clothes. She was in the presence of royalty. How embarrassing! Remus wasn’t faring any better, his eyes widened slightly with shock. This was Lily’s and James’s son. But more importantly, this was Sirius’s godson. Which meant…
"Padfoot?" he asked, his voice catching, and he reached out a hesitant hand.
The dog promptly nuzzled its nose into his palm, whining softly. Harry watched as Remus held back tears, leaning down to wrap his arms around the newfoundland, and a small smile appeared on Harry’s face that had Hermione holding back another squeak… But then he turned to her and she let it slip.
"Been taking care of him, have you?" he questioned lightly, settling against the wall. "We heard everything you were saying, by the way. Thanks for trying."
"Oh! Well--" Hermione murmured, uncertain that she’d actually done anything to help Remus. "I’ve just been pestering him to come back to teach, really. Probably making it worse…"
"Nonsense. At least you’ve given him someone to talk to."
She was taken aback by that and wondered how someone she barely knew could make her blush this hard. Remus and the dog slipped into the house, but the girl didn’t notice at all. Too busy making a fool of herself.
"Are you here on business?" was the only thing she could think of to ask, cursing herself for it afterward.
"Yes, sort of. Hmm… You seem to be the intelligent type, am I right?"
She was sure her cheeks couldn’t get any redder.
"I-I wouldn’t say-"
"Of course you are," Harry interrupted with another smile, though this one seemed more like a smirk to her. "You wouldn’t happen to know a way past the south Slytherin gate, would you? Or if any Slytherins come through here?"
Hermione certainly hadn’t expected that, but she didn’t let her surprise show.
"The Gate? I’ve no clue," she replied clearly, having shaken herself from the daze she’d fallen into. "But there is one Slytherin who makes residence in the local pub every Thursday. Orders white wine, the expensive kind, and keeps pretty much to himself. He always wears a black cloak with a hood, but I’ve seen blonde hair peeking out from it…the most intense silver eyes, too…"
Harry gave her a strange look.
"I’m one of the barmaids," she elaborated, slightly ashamed to say so. "And we don’t see too many Slytherins around here, so I was quite fascinated with him the first couple months."
But that wasn’t what was bothering the Gryffindor Prince. Something she had said startled him and he seemed to be trying to pull himself together.
"Did he…" Harry paused, worrying his bottom lip. "Did he have pale skin? And a darkish aura?"
Hermione opened her mouth to ask how he could possibly know that, but no sound came out. The silver eyes she had spoken of moments before were staring out at her from the shop across the street, narrowed in warning.
"No, sorry," she said quickly, putting on her most sincere expression. "He had colored skin and his aura proved him to be harmless. One of the weaker Slytherin lot."
She was, of course, lying through her teeth, but there was a dark-skinned boy from Slytherin that came to the bar every once in awhile (though not as frequent as Silver Eyes). His name was Blaise, if her memory served her right. Quite rude, but not at all dangerous.
"Well, that’ll have to do," Harry sighed, oddly disappointed. "Thank you, Ms.-?"
She could have slapped herself.
"Granger! Hermione Granger… I’m a muggle-born, you know, but mum and dad moved us out here so I could learn magic. Professor Lupin says I’m quite good, though I can never be sure. This is my last year at Corbeaugriffe, actually, but the graduation exams sound so hard, I don’t think I can-"
Harry held up a hand to quiet her.
"Do you suppose we can finish this conversation as we walk? I’d really like to check out the bar… If it’s not too much trouble."
"Oh, I’m so sorry!" Hermione said, horrified at herself. "I always talk too much when I meet someone new…"
The prince waved off her apology, not at all bothered. He understood why she was near to rambling. Every common girl back in Gryffindor acted this way around him. It came with the whole ‘royalty’ package. Not that he necessarily wanted the attention, but he couldn’t just tell her to shut up. His mother had taught him some manners. So, as they strolled through the marketplace, Harry patiently listened to every word the young girl said and nodded at all the right times. A skill that had taken him ten years to perfect.
"-and Crouch just handed her an outfit, cool as could be. I felt simply awful for the poor creature. I’ve tried telling her that it’s all for the best, but she won’t have any of it. And Ron wasn’t making it any better, mind you, he’s so insensitive-"
Then she froze, and it seemed like the light had gone out in her eyes. Harry himself was startled. She couldn’t possibly mean Ron Weasley?
"Well, at any rate, she was drunk by the end of the night."
And it was like Hermione had never even mentioned him. She fell silent after that, staring determinedly ahead. He had a feeling that she was talking about the Ron he knew, yet didn’t want to dwell on it, because of The Law. Harry frowned as he watched her shoulders slump and her hands clench. This was one of those days when he hated everyone with royal blood in them. That stupid law had made his new friend lose her liveliness. She just didn’t seem the same when she wasn’t talking a mile a minute.
"Harry!" a voice called from one of the market booths. "Harry, over here!"
Oh, hell no.
"Harry! Why are you ignoring me?"
"Forgive me, Cho," he said bewitchingly, turning to her with the grace of an aristocrat (which he normally didn’t possess). "But I was distracted by this delightful young lady."
The girl, all fair skin and silky black hair, was just as he’d remembered her. Except now she was wearing second-hand clothes, working at a corn booth, and had an unpleasant scowl upon her pink lips. Hermione went scarlet at his tone of voice, which he knew from much practice was even more disarming than his smiles, and she nearly fainted when he slipped an arm around her torso. In fact, if he hadn’t whispered in her ear that he wanted to get rid of the other girl by pretending to be with her, she might have. Two seconds later had Hermione giggling like a little third year and nuzzling against his chest. She hadn’t gotten the lead part in every school play for nothing.
"It seems you’re busy," Cho ground out tersely, going back to her corn husking. "I’ll talk to you later, if you’re still around."
Harry nodded distractedly as he slipped his fingers under Hermione’s shirt, dragging her down an alleyway that was nearby. As soon as they were concealed, they collapsed against each other in breathless laughter.
"Very good acting, Ms. Granger."
"Oh, call me Hermione. You really should be on first name bases with someone you just molested."
"Me? How dare you! I would never do such a thing."
Hermione snorted with amusement.
"You sound so much like Silver Eyes, it’s scary."
She covered her mouth with her hands, realizing what she’d just let slip. Harry’s gaze had turned sharp.
"That sounds like the Silver Eyes I’m looking for and you obviously know this Slytherin better than I thought," he hissed at her. He didn’t like being lied to. "Tell me what you know of him."
"I’m sorry!" Hermione apologized guiltily, her eyes flickering around to check for eavesdroppers. "He was there, across the street, when you asked me about him and he was warning me not to say anything. Whenever he comes to the bar, he pays me a good bit of money to keep silent about his ethnicity, which means he must come from a powerful family. I was afraid he would send someone after me if I told you."
"He does come from a powerful family," Harry said dryly, though he no longer seemed angry. "Draco Malfoy is the son of Slytherin’s king."
"Oh, my goodness! Silver Eyes is Draco Malfoy?"
"I strongly suspect it, which makes me even more eager to see that bar. Shall we continue on our way?"
"How do you know the Slytherin prince?" Hermione asked curiously as they set out again.
"He and his father visited our kingdom to negotiate the return of a Slytherin subject."
"And you want to see him again?"
"No!" Harry snapped, then took a deep breath to calm himself down. "I mean, I don’t want to see him. He’s a git. I want to see the Slytherin kingdom."
"Why?"
"Because I’m nosy. Mum always said it’d get me in trouble, which it probably will, but I want to do this. I used to have friends in Slytherin when I was very young."
"How do you know they were Slytherins?"
"Their toys. They always had snakes and the one who came most often had a-" Harry faltered, a thought having struck him. "A dragon."
"Draco means dragon," Hermione supplied unnecessarily, just as disturbed as he was. "You don’t think…"
"It was a little blond boy with gray eyes. But Malfoy’s eyes are silver, not gray."
"Wizards can acquire powers that subtly change their appearance."
"Can we just pretend that it isn’t possible?" Harry muttered, following Hermione into the Raven’s Wing. "I don’t want it to be him."
The pub wasn’t busy on a Sunday, but there were still people scattered here and there. It was small and cozy, filled with soft blue orbs of light that floated in mid-air. There was a fire, also blue, in the grate on the far side of the room, where several cushy armchairs surrounded it. Patrons in the chairs were reading books from the shelves lining some of the walls in the pub, something Harry was sure he would never see if they were in any other kingdom. The bar itself was made of polished oak and was quite deserted, except for one lone figure. Everything from the blond hair peeking out from under the drawn up hood, the proud posture with which he sat, and the hum of dark energy encompassing him told Harry that it had to be the young Malfoy.
"Draco Malfoy," Harry said quietly as he approached, not wanting the other customers to hear.
"Harry Potter," the prince replied in a resigned tone, keeping his head down. "It seems Ms. Granger couldn’t keep her mouth shut."
Hermione winced, stopping a distance away from the bar. Harry, however, pressed on and took a seat beside the Slytherin.
"Will you punish her for it?" he asked sharply, gazing into those silver eyes he remembered so well.
"She is not of my kingdom. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to."
Which I don’t, his demeanor spoke clearly and Harry relaxed. He had been afraid that Hermione would be harmed for helping him.
"I’m not my father, Potter," Draco said somewhat sulkily, drinking from the mug he was holding. "I have no desire to seriously injure or kill anyone. Poking fun and picking fights is one thing, but what my father does is another entirely. That’s why I was so protective of Snape. He shares my views and treats me like a father should, instead of - not like Lucius treats me."
This last part was said flatly and Harry knew not to mention it.
"Can you get me into Slytherin?" he asked instead, determined to stick to his plan.
"I can, yes. But I won’t."
"Why not?"
"Because you would be killed on sight if someone recognized you," Draco explained. "I’d rather not have that on my conscience."
"You don’t want to feel guilty," Harry spat resentfully, but Draco held up a hand to silence him.
"I don’t want to feel miserable, petit rouge."
Petit rouge? Harry nearly gasped. The name meant little red and was one of the nicknames the blond boy from his childhood had always called him. He wasn’t sure if Draco had used the name flippantly, or if he actually remembered as well and was trying to tell him so.
"Grand vert," he responded, in hopes that Draco would recognize the name Harry had used for him: big green.
"Don’t call me that," Draco said harshly, but there was a definite change to his aura. It had surged, as if excited. "Not here."
"Then let’s go somewhere else."
Hermione watched them both get up and leave the pub. She did not follow, having felt she was invisible from the moment the two boys began speaking to each other. Harry led Draco back to Remus’s house, pausing before opening the door.
"Hopefully they used a silencing charm," he murmured embarrassedly, listening for sounds that he never wished to hear.
The house was quiet. Harry tugged Draco inside, locking the door behind them.
"Why didn’t you say anything before, Dragon?" Harry asked breathlessly, as they both had run most of the way there.
"Because, Lion, I’m not stupid," Draco said, attempting to be mocking, but coming off as sad. "Our fathers would have went mental."
Harry was oddly reminded of the Shakespearian play, Romeo and Juliet. He shook away the thought, mildly horrified with himself.
"Our fathers are already mental," he grumbled, glaring in the general direction of Gryffindor. "Making laws that haven’t done any good. It’s not like people don’t sneak over the borders."
"Like you’re doing now?"
"And you!"
"Do you still want to go to Slytherin?" Draco asked, pretending he hadn’t heard Harry’s retort.
"I don’t think so," Harry said bemusedly. "That was sort of an excuse to…"
"To follow me?"
"Yes."
They stared dubiously at each other. It was an interesting situation they had landed in. Once best friends, they were now separated by more than borders and culture - the Law. Harry felt his hatred and frustration for the decree peak, his opinion reflected in Draco’s set jaw. Both jumped when the bedroom door opened and Sirius stepped out (thankfully clothed), looking content and sleepy. Harry blushed at the sight of him.
"Remus still asleep?" he asked, mortified. It was like imagining his parents having sex.
"Yes, but he’ll wake up in a moment-" Sirius broke off suddenly, having spotted the Slytherin prince. "What’s he doing here?"
"He was invited. Watch your tone, Sirius."
The Gryffindor knight, bound by his oath to serve the royal family, went mute and rigid. He glared at Harry.
"Don’t look at me like that," Harry sighed, running a hand through his untidy hair. "I’m sorry for snapping. Draco’s my friend from years ago, don’t you remember? You used to call him Doting Dragon because he always left me gifts?"
"That was him?" Sirius questioned uncertainly, his anger fading. "How do you know?"
"He called me petit rouge. And I can just feel it."
Sirius sat down at the kitchen table, his expression troubled.
"Harry, this is even worse than me trying to see Remus. You two are Gryffindor and Slytherin, for Merlin’s sake. If anyone were to find out-"
"No one will find out," Draco spoke up, giving Harry a pointed look. "Because Harry will not come near Slytherin. Ever."
"But, mon vert-" Harry began reproachfully.
"Don’t call me that!"
Draco took a shaky breath and Harry realized he was on the verge of tears.
"I am not yours, Potter," he tried to growl, failing to sound menacing at all. "We have no obligation to each other. It’s best we forget this and go our separate ways, before we can form an attachment again."
"The attachment from before never faded," Harry argued, holding up his left hand. A silver ring glittered there, an object of much speculation among the Gryffindor subjects. "I’ve kept your gifts. Even if I do go back, they will remind me. How am I supposed to forget about you?"
"I am a Slytherin prince!" Draco bellowed, sounding nearly as dangerous as his father. "I have cursed Muggles and their supporters, such as your precious Weasleys! I have imprisoned and interrogated persons accused of treason against my father! I have tortured those same prisoners for lying to me! I am NOT the same boy you remember and I advise you to stop giving out your trust so easily!"
"Did you do any of those things willingly?" Harry asked calmly, unfazed.
The fire seemed to have drained out of Draco. He sunk into a chair, not meeting Harry’s eyes.
"Yes, I-" but even without looking at him, Draco couldn’t lie. "My father forced me."
"It appears we have a knack for telling the truth when we’re around each other."
"My family’s doing," Draco said, more to himself than to Harry, sending a feeble glare at the ring on the Gryffindor prince’s finger. "Take that off, if you want it to stop."
"What does your family have to do with it?"
"There is some ancient magic in our blood that prevents us and our intended to lie to each other. The magic is activated early on in the courtship process and is most strong when gifts are worn while in close proximity. My intentions were not to court you, of course, I just wanted you to be my friend - but the magic must have mistaken it for courtship when I gave you that ring."
Harry snatched the ring off his finger immediately, setting it on the table. The heightened awareness he’d had of Draco’s presence and his urge to show complete honesty vanished almost completely. 'Almost' being the key word.
"Will I always feel that when I’m around you?" Harry asked nervously, pondering at the odd twinge in his stomach.
"Yes. It is very hard to convince the magic that you are not who I intend to marry once the connection is formed. The only way, that I know of, to permanently break it is hatred. We must genuinely hate each other, which isn’t going to happen soon, so there’s no point dwelling on it. If we are not near each other, the connection will practically be void. That’s why I want you to go back to Gryffindor."
"Practically void?" Harry repeated, seizing onto the uncertainty coloring Draco’s words.
"For you, it will be void. You’ll feel nothing once we’re out of range. My social activities will not affect you at all," Draco admitted grudgingly. "And for a time, it will be void for me as well. When you marry, however, things will change. It will somewhat harm me."
"Harm you? How?"
"No physical harm, just emotional. It will affect me as the death of a loved one would. I’ll be agitated and unapproachable for about a week, then the bond will become void again as long as we remain separated. No big deal."
"No big-?" Harry sputtered, shocked by Draco’s show of self-indifference. "What if I don’t want to make you feel like that?"
"Then you better prepare yourself for a lonely life and hope your parents produce another heir before they die. The only way is to not marry, unless you marry me, which is illegal even if we wanted to."
And I might want to. The thought was as clear as if it had been spoken. Harry and Draco shuddered, each blaming the other for the traitorous thought, yet knowing deep down that they both were responsible. Desperately ignoring his sudden notice of Draco’s handsomeness, Harry abruptly changed the subject.
"Are you staying here, Sirius?" he asked the Gryffindor knight, turning from the source of his internal conflict. "I can’t stay much longer."
"I think I will," Sirius replied quickly, understanding Harry’s need for mindless conversation. "James can screw himself, for all I care."
"I’d watch what you’re saying to his son," Remus, who had just emerged from the bedroom, warned him unconcernedly.
"If he has any sense, James will let me stay. He knows how I feel about you and the Law."
"You’re a suicidal idiot, but I love you," Remus said, helplessly happy. He noticed the other boy sitting at his table. "Am I hosting a royal luncheon? Merlin, two princes in one day…"
"I was just leaving," Draco assured him, brushing off his robes as he stood. "Good-bye, Prince Harry."
"Good-bye, Prince Draco," Harry supplied in kind, the formalness stinging his heart. "I hope to see you again someday."
Draco pressed his lips together, refusing to speak, for he knew that he could not lie to Harry. He wished to see him again, but he didn’t want to get Harry’s hopes up. With a nod at them all, Draco swept from the house haughtily.
"Don’t know who he’s fooling," Sirius snorted at this departure. "I could see him stopping himself from agreeing."
"I hate this," Harry said dispiritedly, not needing to clarify what he meant. Sirius and Remus understood.
"When you’re older, you can challenge the law," Remus tried to give him hope. "It is the Wizengamot’s decision, not your father’s."
"I don’t want to wait. I may have just found Draco again, but I have a feeling that the magic in his blood intensifies the desire to be with him. It’s like something is clawing at my insides. The further away from me he is, the more it hurts. Don’t you feel that way about Sirius?"
"Yes, I do," Remus replied as Sirius watched him eagerly. "In your case, though, that will fade after Draco crosses into Slytherin territory. You have to know your limitations, Harry."
"My limitations?" Harry reiterated incredulously, looking back and forth between Remus and his godfather. "Bloody good example you’re setting. It isn’t illegal to approach the Wizengamot with a request."
"It must be a monarch, Harry. Do you really want to ask your father to give your request? He’d want to know why and learning that you’re taken with the Slytherin prince will make his answer an automatic refusal."
"But what if I don’t ask my father…" Harry said slowly, something occurring to him. "I can ask Queen Bones!"
"The Hufflepuff queen?" Sirius sniggered while Remus’s expression turned thoughtful. "Why?"
"Hufflepuff is Gryffindor’s silent ally. Queen Bones would welcome a visit from me and I’m sure she would forward my request to the council. Once a hearing is scheduled, I could gather others who wish for the law to be changed. Like Hermione and Ron, Neville and Luna, the Pravati family, and you two. We can all plead our cases and then, the council can vote. I’m sure they’ll change it if they see how much pain it’s causing."
"Yes, they might," Remus agreed, tapping his chin. "But I would still wait, Harry."
"Remus!"
"Give it a week, Harry. It will give you time to decide if what you feel is real, you’ll be able to inform everyone of the plan, and Albus Dumbledore will have been sworn in as the new Chief Warlock. You stand a much better chance with him than you do the current chief."
"Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed with a smile. "Oh, that’s worth waiting for. He’ll definitely lift the Law."
"Don’t be so sure, Harry. He is a kind man, but he is also a fair man. If not enough evidence is presented to him, he may not lift it," Remus warned, not wanting Harry to get his hopes up. "Are you sure you can’t stay for a bit? I’d love to get to know Sirius’s godson better, past the fact that you’re just as impulsive as he is."
"I am impulsive, I admit. I know what I want. But I get that from both of my parents," Harry said, taking the tea Remus was offering. "And I’m too curious for my own good. When I was young, I’d wander into the forest… I don’t remember what happened, but Dad said I was injured by an animal. I was never allowed to visit the forest again and he never let me get a pet, which I still want. I love Quidditch and Sirius says I’m a good Seeker. My best subject is Defense Against the Dark Arts, I’m okay at most everything else, and I’m doomed at Potions. I like to read, but our library is only filled with books by Gryffindor authors and adventure stories and biographies depicting acts of stupid bravery is getting old. There aren’t even any Muggle books!"
Remus seemed faintly amused at Harry’s indignation, though was pleased at his enjoyment of reading.
"I know I’m sounding like a whining child," Harry misinterpreted the look, biting his lip. "But besides not being with Sirius, don’t you have everything you want?"
"Well…yes, actually," Remus said in slight surprise, beginning to understand. "You’re a prince, though. Surely you have everything you want besides Malfoy?"
"I’ve got the best broomstick, but I can only play Quidditch in the courtyard with the castle servants, not my friends. In fact, I hardly see my friends at all. Our cooks are the best in the kingdom, but I don’t care - I’d much rather be able to have a meal with my parents more than twice a month. My teachers are brilliant and honorable, but none of them have the patience to teach me properly. My Potions professor has pretty much given up on me because I move too slow and my Defense teacher is annoyed because I move too fast. I have no Care of Magical Creatures teacher at all and Dad always makes sure me and our groundskeeper, Hagrid, don’t speak about creatures. The last time we went somewhere together was at least four years ago. I’m lucky Sirius was there, or I would have gone insane. And to top it all off? My Dad, though I love him to death, is an idiot when it comes to our subjects. There are people like the Weasleys, who can hardly afford the essentials, and he’s still buying me things that I don’t need or want! I’ve tried to tell him this, but it’s like talking to a brick wall. And Mum is too busy with her charms experiments to notice. So, yes, I’m just a little bit unhappy."
"I’ve noticed those things, too," Sirius agreed with him, his expression turning hard. "James is in serious need of an attitude adjustment. He still thinks he’s sixteen. I admit, I was just as horrible as he was - but I’ve changed. He hasn’t. The unfortunate thing is that I’ve sworn my loyalty to him as a knight (one of the worst decisions I’ve ever made) and cannot speak out against him. I’ve had to keep silent."
"Well, I don’t have to. I’ve been planning a movement for months and the trial will be the starting point."
"You aren’t thinking of a revolution?" Remus asked concernedly, leaning towards him.
"If it comes to that," Harry said with a hint of vindictiveness. "I’ll make sure my father knows nothing about my involvement with the other measures and convince him to handle things peacefully. He wouldn’t physically harm the subjects, anyway. I’m just helping along a rebellion that’s been brewing among the Gryffindors for years."
"What if your father finds out you helped them?" Sirius questioned anxiously, but there was underlining interest. "It’s treason. He could have you imprisoned."
"He already has me imprisoned, Sirius, inside the castle grounds. And Mum wouldn’t let him."
"True. That’s a big project, Harry. Will you be able to keep control of everything? What if the subjects get hostile?"
"I’ll threaten them with Hagrid’s pets."
"That might work. Back to the trial, though. How will you convince the council to lift the Law while there’s still a war going on?"
"Lucius Malfoy is the main problem. If I have Queen Bones propose an attack or council with Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff against Slytherin that forces him to give up his power to… No, Draco wouldn’t want… Narcissa! I remember her, she was such a lovely woman. She’s stern enough to rule and kind enough to cooperate with the other kingdoms and Draco would still have the choice to take the throne later on in life."
"All right, enough," Remus interrupted their strategy meeting. "This is too dangerous. Both of you could be executed!"
"It needs to be done!" Harry snapped and Sirius nodded. "You can’t tell me that Ravenclaw isn’t having the same kind of problems!"
"We are, but-"
Harry and Sirius glared at the Ravenclaw professor.
"I’m in," Remus sighed, holding up a hand in surrender.
* * *
Next Chapter
I’m only posting this for one person’s benefit. You know who you are. Oh and Corbeaugriffe (Hermione's school) means 'Ravenclaw' in French, if you were wondering.