Disclaimer: all original content belongs to the original author and not me.


Chapter One

He winced and tried to school his expression as he stood shoulder to shoulder with his men. Already he was leaning to his left and Ron was bracing him while someone, probably Seamus, was trying to keep him upright from the back. Dean's tall body blocked his slumped body from view in front. Sweat trickled down from his neck pooled in a chilling puddle at his spine. He blinked repeatedly and tried to focus on staying conscious while their captors prepared to make a speech.

Boots thudded against the ground and onto the makeshift platform that raised him into view of the captives. He stood tall and regal before them, long, pale hair swept back into the traditional battle knot of his lineage, clothes and armor still dyed by the dried remnants of his enemies blood. It would be a simple matter to clean them, but he wanted them to see. A viperous contented smile was on his lips.

Harry wanted to curse, it was General Malfoy.

"You are no longer soldiers, the war has ended for you. You are now the prisoners of His Majesty King Salazar. You are afforded all the rights given to prisoners of war by the policies of war. You will be moved to your new home shortly were you will quietly and peacefully wait out the remainder of the war. Should you try to escape or bring harm against His Majesty or His Majesties soldiers, you will be dealt with as our laws demand". He smiled and spread his fingers with outstretched palms. "But, if you cooperate, all will be well cared for. Now-," he motioned to two men who brought up some armor, Harry stiffened. "My men found the Princes armor on a dead young soldier, but as you can see there is a long cut in the jacket here and blood from a wound." His cold eyes sought out their faces, " But there was no such wound on the dead body." He smiled, "I admire and applaud the Prince's bravery and desire to stay with his men, and I have no desire to see any harm befall him. That is why he will announce himself at once, before my hand is forced"

The men who had been tightly pressed against him before seemed to close in even tighter forming a cocoon of bodies around Ron and Harry. A clear signal that Malfoy was correct.

Ron's grasp which had been holding him upright now held him fast and tight, ready to move even with the added weight of Harry's body.

They may be defeated, but they would not relinquish their prince without a fight. Harry felt tears burn against his eyes at their courage, but he would not let more of his men die in vain, and he could not ask them to do what was required, he would have to find a way on his own, later.

His throat was dry but his voice rang true and steady. "Enough, stand down".

A path was made. Harry limped forward one hand tightly pressed to his bleeding wound and the other was wrapped securely around Ron's shoulders as he was helped forward. He stood weak, sweating, and wounded in front of his men and faced the enemy.

Malfoy gave a mocked tilted bow. "It is a pleasure your Highness, especially as your military prowess is so well known and your company at court is so rare. I believe you were a child when we last met, and now here you are, a man leading an army".

Harry grimaced, he remembered the meeting, or more accurately the meeting with Malfoys son. " I trust that my men will be well cared for and that you are a man of your word General."

Malfoys smile was as reassuring as a crocodiles. "Their health and wellbeing shall be as well secured as your own" he motioned for two soldiers to take him, "See him to my quarters and have a healer brought".

If Ron's hold tightened much more he would cut off his circulation. "I am the Prince's guardian, where he goes I go".

"A Weasley, of the Weasley clan if I am correct. You have the look of your father and your family is known for your loyal ties to the Gryffindor throne. I would gladly let you accompany the Prince, but to do so would only encourage and help him plot his escape-"

"He is wounded!" Ron's voice was tense his face reddening. "We would hardly be able to escape with him in his current condition".

Malfoys smile was no less grim or menacing without teeth, he had not appreciated the interruption "Be that as it may, the answer is no".

Harry felt Ron's chest expand next to his own filling and preparing for a verbal battle. He squeezed the hand around his shoulder, halting him. "I need you with the men Ron, I trust them to you while I am gone" Ron looked to protest again with that damnable Weasley stubborn streak. "Obey your Prince soldier, it was not a request". His tone was harsh and stiff with military authority. Ron's jaw snapped shut as his back stiffened while he gave a jerked nod of affirmation.

Harry stepped forward shakily and reluctantly eased into the supporting hands of his captors.

"Lead the way"

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Lucius was beyond pleased. The Prince was in his grasp and severely weakened by his wounds. The boy had only made it out of view of his men before he relinquished his hold on the conscious world and passed out. The healers had been working diligently since his collapse, brought on by blood loss mostly. The wound ran from thigh to mid chest, a brutal wound, but not fatal with the right treatment. It would heal slowly and hamper the Princes movement, all advantages in his current situation.

Two healers still hovered about him now as he lay unconscious on Lucius own bed. He gazed at the pale young face. The boy had a healthy tan even with his current pallor. His hair was shaggy and untamed, in need of a good wash and trim. He looked all his 17 years, if not a little younger. Muscles firm and formed, but still wiry and lithe in youth, only a very light dusting of dark stubble across his cheeks and chin that had perhaps taken all the months of battle to grow. His loss would be a great blow to the Gryffindor kingdom. Lucius smirked, King Godric would be beside himself as the loss of his only heir. This was just the bargaining chip that they needed. And he intended to take full advantage of it.

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There was a burning pain in his side that made his breath catch behind clenched teeth while he groaned and balled fists into the soft silk beneath him.

"Good, you're awake, drink this". The voice was flat and dark, sarcastic and rich.

It made him open his eyes to see the looming bat of a man hovering over him with a spouted bowl in hand and the robes of a master apothecary. However, his sardonic tone coupled with the shallow complexion, hooked nose, and distasteful hair immediately shed light on his identity.

Harry almost choked on the laugh that tried to burst from him as old bedtime stories were made flesh before him. Then he remembered he had a large slice of flesh open and torn along his side, and moving his ribs to breath, much less laugh, hurt a great deal as he discovered.

Laugh turned to cry of pain and his eyes screwed shut once more.

"Yes it will hurt, and hurt all the more if you continue to move like that so cease your writhing and hold still, now drink".

Modesty ignored the sheet was pulled aside and the wound scrutinized before the man muttered something under his breath and shoved the bowl of cloudy liquid into his shaky hand before rummaging around a bag of bottles and jars. He seemed to find one appropriate and dipped fingers into it and began to press some sort of foul smelling gray paste over the wound. He winced, but the effect was numbing and eased the pain.

His voice was hoarse but clear, "You must be Severus Snape" Dark eyes jerked to meet his, widened, then narrowed with a sneer on his lips.

" I suppose your mutt of a Godfather regaled you with stories of his youth" He managed to spit out Godfather like a seasoned curse.

Harry hummed a confirming note, "And my mother, she spoke fondly of you".

It is difficult for black eyes to darken, but Snape managed to add a new varying depth to his dark windows and there was a heaviness to his voice. "You were five when she died".

Harry smiled, "They were good stories".

The flap of the tent was pushed aside and Lucius entered.

"Ah, the Prince awakens. I trust you are doing well and recovering nicely?" He stepped closer to get a look at the wound.

It felt intrusive despite the number of times he had changed with his own men or bathed in the river, he shifted the sheets slightly so they at least covered his modesty while Lucius inspected him like a prized stallion.

Snape grunted, "His body has fought off the infection well enough, but he has lost nutrients and fluids. He should stay in bed for at least a week and no strenuous activity until approved. I've mixed up a poultice to help the wound heal, but it will scar none the less. There is also a cream to combat infection and some medicinal herbs that should be crushed and boiled into a tea for him to drink every day". He glanced at the cup still in Harry's hands pointedly.

He took a tentative sip and grimaced, but polished it off as the two men eyed him as if he were an errant child about to refuse his medicine.

Lucius smiled, "My, my Severus, you are thorough".

"Forgive me for trying to keep one of the most valuable prisoners alive, I would merely hate to have two kings wishing to disembowel me should he die from infection".

Lucius laughed while Harry grimaced at the reminder that yes, he was certainly the most valuable prisoner currently in Slytherins hands. The news had to have reached his Grandfather by now, it would break his heart.

King Godric was not a bad king, but he was a warrior before a king and had always been happier on the fields of battle than in the court, and he had been so lonely for so long after his wife had died in the plague and then his own son had run away to marry the illegitimate daughter of the Ravenclaw Queen. The two ran away together and eloped since the union was unsanctioned between the two kingdoms. They raised Harry until he was 5, but were cruelly killed when they were attacked by bandits, a memory that still stalked him in his nightmares. A pair of charlatans found him in the aftermath and made him their whipping boy and personal slave for the next five years until they happened to traverse through the kingdom of Gryffindor and crossed swords with the royal guards, of which Sirius Black was the Captain. He spotted Harry and immediately took him to the king. The story was one that not many knew as he had only appeared in court briefly when King Godric named him heir and then sheltered him away to teach him and keep him safe, the last of his bloodline. And then war had come and a kingdom demanded a leader.

Harry's gaze drifted and his mind grew cloudy, his grip on the bowl slipped, but lithe fingers snatched it before it could shatter on the ground.

His voice was slurred. "You dru. me".

Snapes tone was flat and to the point, "You need rest, and they need to move you, you'll thank me later for sparing you the pain of the ordeal".

His eyes drifted closed, but his mind still stayed awake for a bit, while incomprehensive of the murmured conversation above him.

He didn't feel like a leader. He had been lucky that Sirius had been adamant about training him from the beginning. Remus had trained him in the matters of court while Sirius had dealt with his military training, and Godric had made up for the five years of slavery but lavishing him with more attention and gifts than he knew what to do with, but also a suffocating amount of protectiveness. It had almost been a relief to go to war in the beginning, to escape the castle walls and finally be free. But, it hadn't lasted long as he was faced with the reality of war. Death was not foreign to him as it had followed him all his life, but to be the cause of death, it had been his first experience.

He fell into dreams of weeping and blood.


Authors Note: Hello! I'm almost done with school, so maybe I'll actually finish one of my stories in the future, but for now, just brainstorming this out, not sure where it will lead, but I had this scene running around my head for awhile and had to write it. Hope you enjoy! Love any ideas you all have for where I should take this, have a rough idea, but enjoy inspiration.