Letters from a Prince
Rating: PG; Overall: M
Pairing: Mainly SS/HP
Warnings: SLASH (that means man and man like each other, sexually and romantically) HEAVY SPOILERS LIKE YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE, slightly AU.
Please don't read this if you haven't read the 6th Book and hate spoilers
Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter nor any of its characters. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. I make no money. I have no money. Suing is mean!
Summary: Harry receives help from the enigmatic Half-Blood Prince and begins to develop feelings for him.
Alternate Universe: 1) No one knows who the Half-Blood Prince is. 2) Harry went to retrieve the book Advanced Potions from the Vanishing Closet in the Room of Requirement.
Everything else is pretty much the same.
CHAPTER ONE: End of a Dream
Fleur and Bill Weasley were married in the middle of June. The Burrow was graced with warm summer weather devoid of clouds and rain as the two were joined in matrimony. It wasn't a ceremony that Harry recognized, for the wizarding tradition was different from the muggle tradition. Friends and family gathered outside as the couple exchanged rings and vows and drank from a goblet to seal the covenant.
Harry Potter sat in his seat in white dress robes, not really paying attention to the minister's words or the couple crying before the altar. His gaze had long drifted to the patch of grass somewhere by his feet; all the white around him had blinded him in the morning sun. He felt the gentle breeze ruffle his hair, heard it as it rustled through heavy robes. Mrs. Weasley was sobbing somewhere. There were soft murmurs in French off to the left, where Fleur's family and friends gathered. Madam Maxime and Rubeus Hagrid were in the last row. Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was near the front. There were members of the Order, as well as other witches and wizards Harry did not recognize. Harry sat between his two best friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger.
Ron was sitting attentively, but was wont to shift after every ten minutes. He kept having to brush his red hair out of his face, a problem even Mrs. Weasley couldn't fix. Harry sometimes caught him glancing over at Hermione, who was sniffling and drabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, mumbling something about true love. Her normally bushy hair was fixed in an elegant ponytail made in soft curls that reflected golden highlights in the sun. She held onto Harry's hand comfortingly in her grasp, and Harry had his shoulder leaning against Ron's.
Harry had both dreaded and looked forward to the day of the wedding, as it was a time of happiness, but also a rude awakening. His moment of peace would end tomorrow. He would have to go back to the Dursley's. He would have to go back to the mysteries of Lord Voldemort's Horcruxes.
Though nearly a month had passed since the tragedy at the Astronomy Tower Harry had already found his confidence waning. His nightmares not only consisted of Cedric Diggory and Tom Riddle Sr.'s grave, but also of Albus Dumbledore's lifeless body flying over the edge of the balcony. It was the same episode every night: Peter Pettigrew would strike at Cedric on Voldemort's command; Severus Snape would raise his wand against the only man who had ever loved him and kill him as if he were nothing more than a mongrel. Those were the two deaths Harry could have prevented if only he had been fast enough, strong enough, brave enough… Dumbledore had said he felt safe because he was with Harry. Harry knew no one was safe with him.
Applause and cheering suddenly erupted as Fleur and Bill kissed. Some of Bill's scarring had lessened, but his wife didn't seem to have mind as she gently cupped his rough cheeks in her hands and pressed him closer. Mrs. Weasley cried harder and buried her face into Mr. Weasley's chest. Fred and George where making catcalls. Charlie smacked them upside the head but grinned all the while. Ginny, who was sitting beside her mother, looked back to steal a glance at Harry. Harry didn't catch her eye before she quickly looked away, brilliant red hair fluttering at the quick movement.
A small array of instruments chorused as the new bride and groom prepared to walk off, smiling and tearing at all the faces that mirrored theirs. Everyone stood as Bill and Fleur walked down the white carpet. Harry watched them he vowed – just as they had moments before – that no one else would die as long as he could do something about it.
Two days after the wedding Harry was packing his bags to leave to the Dursley's. As he closed his trunk hot tears prickled unbidden behind his eyes. He had a feeling he wouldn't see the Burrow for a very long time. Just that morning, there was an attack at Durmstrang as Death Eaters were searching for Igor Karkaroff, a traitor to Voldemort. Some of the staff were found dead. Others had fled. Viktor Krum's letter relayed no more information than the early Daily Prophet issue. Hermione was stricken with worry, despite how much her pen pal's words assured his well being.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione agreed that they would start their search after Harry's 17th birthday. No one else knew of their plans, and they meant to keep it that way. In the meantime, Hermione promised to do all the research she could based on what Harry had told her and Ron about the scenes in the Pensieve. Ron said he'd try to go with his dad to work and investigate any information on horcruxes. They had perused through the Half-Blood Prince's Advanced Potions, but found no notes on the subject.
"I didn't expect any, really," Hermione had said with a slight wrinkle of her nose. She still did not trust the Half-Blood Prince.
Harry understood why she felt that way, as there were rather dangerous curses on the book, obviously made by someone with not the best intentions for his enemies in mind. Hermione didn't try to discredit Prince anymore, much to his relief.
"All packed, mate?" Ron said, entering their shared room at the attic.
Harry nearly jumped in surprise. "Yeah," he replied, turning around and sitting on his bed. Ron sat on his unmade one across from Harry.
"Dad says he's going to take you by Apparating, since you've done it before. I would take you, but, you know…" They shared a laugh. Ron had failed his test because he'd left a part of his eyebrow behind.
"Don't worry about it." Harry would insist that he Apparate himself if only to avoid endangering anyone. He had Apparated Dumbledore and himself to Hogsmeade, but that was out of sheer desperation. He probably wouldn't be able to do it so well again.
"I feel as if I'm in a dream sometimes," Ron suddenly murmured, staring at his hands at his lap. Harry studied him for a moment.
"We were dreaming, Ron. I think we've finally woken up."
Later than afternoon Harry said his good byes to the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley had given him knitted sweaters, and Fred and George had given him some items from their joke shop to keep him entertained. Hugging Ginny was awkward, and Harry didn't know what to do when he suddenly felt her sobbing against his shoulder. He wanted so much to tell her to forget him. Neither knew what could happen between then and the next day, and it would have been best to make sure the romantic connection they had had was completely severed. Harry would care for her has a friend. He just hoped she could do the same and move on if anything he died.
Hermione and Ron were waiting for him halfway to Mr. Weasley. Hermione hugged him tight, told him to keep in touch, and stay with the Dursley's at all times. He didn't know how much she knew, but she was a very smart girl.
"W-we're he-ere for y-you, okay?" she stuttered between sobs. "L-love you." Hermione had begun to say it several days after Dumbledore's funeral. She said it before they went to bed and when there was a momentary break between them. Harry wished he had learned that habit before. Maybe he wouldn't feel so empty inside.
"I love you, too, Hermione. Ron." Harry embraced Ron and then turned away, looking back occasionally to wave.
Mr. Weasley smiled as Harry approached him. "Ready, then, Harry?" he asked, taking Harry's arm.
"Yes, sir."
There was that suffocating feeling again, and they appeared at Number 4 Privet Drive.
Uncle Vernon was obviously startled when Harry appeared at his door step. His beady eyes were suddenly wide with fear and anger. "How… how did you get here, boy?" he nearly shouted, sticking his head out to make sure no one had noticed. It was a Sunday. No one was usually out in the streets at that time.
"Apparated," Harry replied.
" 'Appurrated'?"
"Apparated."
"What's that? Did anyone see you? I heard some sort of 'bang', or a 'crack.'" Vernon was now getting anxious.
"They'll suspect it's me if I keep standing here," Harry replied in the same, bored tone. His uncle seemed to come back to himself because he yanked Harry by the collar and pulled him in.
"Now get in your room and – "
" – Don't make a sound. Yeah, I know," muttered Harry, stepping around his uncle and trudging up the stairs. His items had been sent by Mr. Weasley previously, so they should be in his room. He had let Hedwig free for a while. She was probably at the Burrow, screeching in anger that her master had left without her.
His small room was just as he had left it before Dumbledore had taken him last summer. Dirty clothes were strewn about the floor among books and old candy wrappers. Yet, despite it being a part of the Dursley household, Harry felt that this place was truly his. No one dared enter, and so he was left to think by himself. He would miss it when he leaves. What would become of it then?
His trunk was at the corner by his wardrobe closet, as well as was Hedwig's cage. Harry decided to clean up a little bit before settling in. He picked up his clothes and set them in a pile for later washing. He picked up all food wrappings and tossed them in the trash can, which was already brimming with crumpled papers and soda cans. He moved to fix the sheets on his bed when a scroll on his pillow caught his eye. It was small and nearly rolled. Harry didn't remember noticing it before. He glanced towards his window, which was open slightly as he had left it. Thinking it was a dark arts object, he pulled out his wand.
Nothing happened after a few minutes. He poked at the parchment. It rolled over and fell onto the mattress. Harry thought about his paranoia for a moment then scoffed to himself.
"If Voldemort wanted to kill me then he'd send more than a piece of parchment."
Carefully, without letting go of his wand, he took the scroll, which was about the size of his hand in width, and unfurled it. Cramped, slanted scrawl caught his attention as he scanned the words of the letter. His heart skipped a beat as he read.
Mr. Harry Potter,
It has come to my attention that you have my old book. I do not know how it came into your possession, but only that it is. I had not meant for anyone else to know of it, much less use it (I daresay, it must have been very useful to you.). Nor can I say I am glad that person is you.
I know what you seek. A badger always goes to his place of birth to keep his treasure, no matter how meager it might have been.
Another letter will find its way to you.
HBP
Harry nearly dropped the letter in disbelief. The Half-Blood Prince was alive? How did he know Harry had his book? No one knew except for Ron and Hermione.
He reread the letter several times before he sat down on his bed. The locket in his pocket shifted and pressed closer against his thigh. The Half-Blood Prince was alive and apparently knew of Harry's quest for the Horcruxes.
Ah, just wanted to get this out. It's un beta-ed as of now. I will beta it as soon as i get someone, who is being a lazy bum...
I hope you liked it. It's probably confusing right now, as making a fic with Harry corresponding with the HBP is near impossible. Please bear with me! Reviews are appreciated.