Title:

Duty

Summary:

Regalis ab incunabulis = Royal from the Cradle.

When duty calls for the heiress of the Powerful and boundless house of Prince Eileen Prince decides that she cant can she give up her dreams and desire's for honor or money. But with every choice comes consequences.

Okay, First Things First:

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

--This applies for the entire story

Let us begin…

Everyone out there that thinks that like is unfair,

Needs to know that's not the case,

Because life is beautiful, you just have to live it.

Everyone out there that thinks they are alone and that that's bad

Needs to know that's not the case,

Because in life no one is alone, there is always someone

Ay, there's no need to cry, because life is a carnival,

It's more beautiful to live singing.

Oh, Ay, there's no need to cry,

For life is a carnival

And your pains can be alleviated

La vida Es Un Carnival, Celia cruz

Part One

It was the last day they would ever spend together—like this.

Both curled on the solitary plush tan armchair in the far corner of the room. The chair, as well as their clothing, was layered in several complex warming charms. It was always cold in the dungeons. So cold, in fact, that when winter rolled around that every single puff of breath one took was visible.

"I don't want to leave…"

Eileen turned her dark eyes to the source of the voice, the girl besides her. She was Gorgeous with thick black hair that streamed down her back in tight ringlets, held away from her face by a lavender ribbon. Her skin was so pale it was reminiscent of fine china. Her features were mesmerizing; light gray eyes that were framed by dark thick lashes, a button nose that was small and had a light smattering of speckles on the bridge, soft pink and plump lips that were shaped like an archer's bow and a thin and elegant neck perfect to lay kisses on. Her shoulders were swathed in the large gray comforter her hand peeking out from one end to caress the stitched runes.

Eileen pulled the needle through the fabric again switching needles so for the blue shadows of the phoenix's tail feather. Her countless gold bangles jangled and clicked together as she hastened her stitches, After a few more quick stitches on the blanket in her lap she spoke. Her voice was sweet, smooth and easy to get stuck in, like honey. "I understand why, but I can not say I don't want to leave."

"I'll be alone."

"No, you wont." Black eyes turned back to their focus. Her were stitches firm, sure and tight even though her hands were ice cold and numb. She couldn't stop; this needed to be done tonight.

"I wont have you."

Eileen completed another stitch before placing her needle down. Her long thin fingers slid across the gray quilt covering them and gripped the soft trembling hand that plucked at the lavender threads of the embroidery. It took only a moment for the stilled hand to interlace with her own cold hands. "You will ruin all of my work if you continue like this, Birdie."

Walburga looked straight ahead as did Eileen.

"I love you, you know." She whispered softly in her rough voice.

"I know." Eileen squeezed the hand she held in a gesture of comfort.

Suddenly they shifted and Walburga had her head rested on Eileen's thin shoulder, as she watched the other girls nimble hands move in a quick jerky rhythm, covered up to her neck in the warm handmade cover. Their feet dangled over the chair's arm exposing their colorful socks and (in the case of Walburga) colorfully painted toes.

Walburga played with some of the stay hairs that fell on Eileen's shoulder "Are you going to marry black?"

Eileen shook her head and glanced down at those large gray eyes. "I don't want to. I'm apparently his first choice for a wife. My father had his sights set on Black—and barring Black, Abraxan Malfloy."

"Ew… they're both like thirty."

It was a complete exaggeration; both men had just touched twenty earlier in the year.

Eileen's lips twisted into a smirk as she glanced down at the other girl's cruel smile. "And what have you got? A Prewett! They would clash terribly with you."

"God, this is so wrong," The younger seventh year propped herself up and began to shift so that she had a hand pressed on each side the plush arm of the chair with Eileen between them. She straddled the wide hips of the other girl with her calves and rose onto all fours. Forcing Eileen to abandon her needles and threads in favor of resting her tired cold hands on Walburga's back. "Talking about getting married to those testosterone puppets, when all I want is to be with you."

"You know, just as well as I, that no one would tolerate us." Eileen let out a short sigh. "You, especially, would be in danger if we didn't—you know—You are the Eldest and only daughter and in your own right have a large dowry, on top of that you're absolutely lovely. If they saw you with me they would throw a fit."

"Don't say such things, you are beautiful." Walburga's thin brows creased and turned to a well-defined frown when she heard her partner snort.

"Oh honestly. I wont have you lying to me."

"I'm not lying. Your hair is long and soft and black. Your eyes are black too! And your really tall—you've got the tall dark and handsome thing going for you!"

"So I look like a man now?"

"No, that is not what I had meant! Don't twist my words!" She snapped. She leaned back on her heels (and coincidentally Eileen's thighs) "You're very pretty. Your eyes are dark and mysterious, only I can tell what you are thinking because I know you so well. You have high cheek bones and pretty lips they… I like them. Then your hair… it's so long it will touch your knees soon. You never gain a pound and," The rough voice of the eldest daughter of the second house of black dropped to a low hoarse whisper. "Your breasts are really nice."

Eileen blushed under the other girl's lecherous stare and appreciative words. "None of that matters they just want my money. Every pureblood man is out for my fortune. I'm the heir, Birdie."

Walburga pouted with a soft huff. "It's not like we can do anything about it anyway. All those oaths and penalty fees…"

"Not to mention the disapproving masses." Eileen muttered with a brief gesture to the room of muttering spectators.

"Fuck them." Walburga Declared before dipping low to plant a kiss on Eileen's thin pink lips.