PROLOGUE // Promises
{1}
When he was three weeks old—Harry wasn't sure, he was just so young then—his father, King James III had promised him for marriage. It had been a shock for the kingdom and its neighbors—to promise the prince and heir of the kingdom to the son of a rich merchant (but a commoner, nonetheless) was unheard of. However, the King marrying a singer and daughter of one of the guards was unheard of also, but King James still went with it.
So, you see, Harry's father was full of surprises and had little, if none, care for some traditions and expectations.
Anyway, the prince's supposed betrothed was the son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, old friends of the King and Queen. Lucius and Narcissa, both too cynical to fall in love, had fallen for one another in the midst of helping Lily and James sneak out of their responsibilities to meet. The years of sneaking out and double dates have led to a double spring wedding in Hogwarts' plaza, where the people and commoners have danced in celebration for their King and friends. The disdain and soured faces of some conservative dukes weren't enough to leave a dent on the kingdom's happiness.
Two years after the celebration, the Prince Harrison James Potter of the kingdom of Ladon was born, just over a month after Draco Malfoy, his betrothed, was. Three weeks after, in the first beautiful morning after a series of nights plagued with thunderstorm, the King made the grand proclamation of the two babies' engagement.
{2}
Harry didn't understand why he had to meet Draco "officially" on his seventh birthday. They've known each other, played, and done many things together since Harry could remember! What did "officially" mean? It didn't even make any sense.
Disgruntled, Harry asked the question to his mother for the millionth time. "Mummy, why do I have to meet Draco officially?" He cringed away from the brush his mother, the Queen, had been attacking his hair with to pout at her. If it weren't for the 'official meeting,' Harry would have been running around the kitchens or gardens with Draco while waiting for his birthday party to start.
Apparently though, that was not possible on a seventh birthday celebration and now he had to wake up very early to have his hair washed and brushed a million times. He was also fitted into very stiff and stifling clothes that would make climbing trees or sneaking under tables very difficult indeed.
The Queen chuckled, her hand over her mouth. Harry had always been persistent; he'd been pestering and grumbling about all the extra fuss over his birthday, which unfortunately included not seeing his best friend for the past two weeks.
"Love, it's just for today, right? The whole kingdom needs to see you and Draco together," she tried to explain.
Together. Harry still didn't understand. "Why, Mummy? Draco and I have always been together."
Queen Lily patted her hand on her lap, and Harry climbed on it. She framed her son's face gently and said, "Well, you know how your father and I are together? The way Lady Narcissa and Lord Lucius are also together?"
Harry nodded. "Yes, Mummy. That's called marriage, right?"
"That's right, love. Well, we wanted to see you and Draco together that way when you're older." She smoothed Harry's fringe with her hand, only for it to revert to its messy state.
Harry's green eyes widened at his mother's words. He and Draco in a marriage? Harry's knowledge about what adults in a marriage are supposed to do are limited. Based on his observations on the couples he'd grown up being around, it consisted of always being together, having to make up quickly after fights, sharing your stuff to each other, and always waiting for one another before going to sleep. Well, he and Draco had been doing that since they were little; they'd even promised to be each other's best friends forever. So Harry thought that he and Draco would have no problem with marriage.
Plus, if he and Draco were to be together for a long, long time like their mums and dads, then Harry has all the time in the world to perfect creating the flower crowns that seemed to always make Draco happy. Also…
"Mummy, that means that I have to start practicing using swords, okay?" Harry said urgently, surprising his mother.
"Why so, Harry?" she asked in a laugh. There was a crease between Harry's elegantly-arched, black brows as an evidence of the seven-year-old's seriousness.
"Well," he rolled his eyes as if he couldn't believe how his mother could be so oblivious, "so I can protect Draco, of course! There are bullies and enemies of the kingdom that want to hurt him and I want to be able to drive them away, Mummy! Draco always disliked swords; he said he prefers learn archery so he can be like Artemis but that won't do when his enemies are close; I'm gonna protect him then!"
"I always knew I had a very, very chivalrous son," the Queen chuckled. In her mind, however, she thought of how Harry couldn't have been more right; looking at the boy she loved so much, she felt so proud that he really was growing into the noble man he was declared he was going to be.
{3}
"Draco! Draco! Draco!" Harry flew down the stairs upon seeing the small family by the double doors. He jumped over the last three steps and ran towards Draco, who had broken from his mother's hold and was running towards Harry, too.
"Harry! I missed you—oof!" Draco staggered backwards at the force of Harry's sudden embrace. His arms went around the other boy also. He laughed out loud, a childish, musical sound that Harry had missed for the last two weeks.
"I missed you too, you- you-" Harry panted, lost for words to call the boy in front of him as he stepped away to give the latter space to breathe. "Never mind. I really missed you."
"Me too," Draco smiled at him. "I hope they never do that to us again."
"We won't. I doubt that you'd let us, still," a voice said behind Draco.
Harry looked up and noticed that Lady Narcissa and Lord Lucius Malfoy had approached them. He smiled shyly at Draco's mum. She was always so beautiful. Harry always thought that she and his mum were beautiful, but different kinds of beautiful. While Queen Lily reminded Harry of the paintings of warrior princesses from the books at the library, Lady Narcissa looked like winter fairies—ethereal and dainty.
"Hello, Lady Narcissa. Lord Lucius," Harry said with a bow to the couple.
"Harrison," Lord Lucius said, returning his bow. He looked intimidating, like always, but he winked at Harry. Draco, who saw this, giggled lightly behind his hands. "Happy birthday."
"Yeah! Happy, happy birthday, Harry!" exclaimed Draco happily, enveloping Harry in a tight hug once more.
Harry laughed out loud, grasping the arms that wound around his shoulders. "Thank you." He looked down at Draco, whose grey eyes looked and seemed to twinkle up at him gleefully, then up at the Malfoys. "Can Draco and I play now? Since the party and ceremony are not going start in the afternoon?"
Before Lady Narcissa's assent and reminders to be careful with their clothes and not to tire themselves were over, Harry was already running towards the gardens with Draco behind him.
{4}
Draco and Harry were tired. They'd explored the kitchens, only to be driven away by the cooks there; went to the stables to see if they could go riding, only to see Dobby and Kreacher asleep; and ran to the gardens to pick up the brightest and biggest flowers to make Draco's flower crown. After that, Harry had pulled Draco to their favorite oak tree at the farthest corner of the garden to rest.
He'd been watching Draco create two flower crowns from their harvest, watching his best friend's small, pale fingers weave branches and stems together into a circle. Draco had always been better at it than Harry.
"Hey Draco. Did you know that we're going to get married someday?" he asked, sitting up and drawing closer to Draco.
The latter didn't look at him, only hummed. It was not until Harry poked him in the side that he huffed, "If you're like this, I'm never going to want to marry you."
"Hey!" Harry didn't understand why, but he just felt really annoyed when Draco said that. "My mum said that we're going to get married like our parents were!"
"Well, I personally think that it's going to be tiresome to be around you always," sniffed Draco. He smiled sweetly at Harry. "Aren't you afraid I'm gonna get tired of you, Harry?"
Harry grumbled; whenever he looked at his best friend, and dwelt on the way the sun light bounced from his hair, and how his laughter seemed to fill the big palace Harry called home, he didn't think he'd ever get tired of Draco. He would always want his best friend around.
An idea struck him.
Harry launched himself at Draco, taking care not to squish the flowers around them, and tickled the boy beneath him. Draco shrieked in laughter and pleaded for Harry to stop.
"No!" growled Harry playfully. "You have to promise, Draco! Promise me you won't get tired of me and that you'll marry me someday! Come on!"
"Harry! H-Harry stop! Please!"
"I won't stop until you promise!"
"Okay! Okay!"
"Okay, what?"
"Okay. I promise I won't get tired of you and that we'll get married someday," said Draco between deep breaths, when Harry ceased his tickle attacks.
"Yeah?" Harry's grin was so wide.
Draco smiled and nodded. "But you have to promise me another thing, too."
"Anything!"
"Promise me that you won't get tired of me and that you'll ask me to marry you someday."
"That's easy, Draco! I promise to not get tired of you ever, and one day, I'm going to ask you to marry me. Just like how those books your mother reads say. You're going to be my Queen? Or fellow King?"
"My mom said that I'll be your Consort."
"Whatever you want to call yourself, I'm fine with," Harry said, grinning. He started playing with the soft locks of Draco's hair. "As long as you're going to be with me, it doesn't matter what we call ourselves as we rule the kingdom!"
Harry didn't notice the pleased blush on Draco's cheeks, but it didn't matter. At seven years old, he was so certain that he and the boy beside him will always be together.
{5}
When Draco and Harry were presented in front of the kingdom and the foreign visitors who chose to witness the ceremony, everyone was clapping. Draco was wearing a flower crown of peonies, roses, and other blossoms that they've found in the gardens. Harry, on the other hand, was wearing on his head a wreath of holly branches, mistletoe, and a plant with small white flowers that Draco also wove for him.
That night, when the party was in full swing, Draco and Harry were dancing merrily with each other to a lively song the royal band of artists had been playing.
"This is so fun!" Draco cried gleefully to Harry over the din, doing a pirouette with his hands raised above his head.
Harry, who was doing an awkward jig—unlike Draco, he hated their dancing classes—, grinned back at him. They were both flushed and tired, but this was one of the rare instances that their parents seemed lenient on their bedtimes, so they were going to milk it as much as they could.
"I hope- I hope we have more dances like this!" Draco said, taking one of Harry's arms and spinning beneath it again and again.
"When we're older, let's have lots and lots of festivals and celebrations!" Harry replied, laughing gleefully as he spun Draco in dizzying circles.
"Promise?"
"Yeah!"
{6}
When Harry was nine years old, he discovered what love really was and how it felt like. He only used to read about it in books and witness it happen to some people, but it was during a Sunday afternoon, at tea, that he realized that he was in love. He told this to Blaise Zabini, one of his closest friends since he started sword training, but the latter just ignored him in favor of the chocolates that his father brought for them.
Harry wasn't deterred, though. He went to his mother, who was having tea by herself at the palace sun room. He ran to her side, bowed quickly, and burst out, "Mother, I know now that I'm in love!"
Though apparently startled by her son's declaration, it wasn't evident as Queen Lily just smiled gently at Harry and asked, drawing him closer to her, "What makes you say that, my love?"
"Well, for starters, I realized that it's… it's only when Draco is around that my heart is extra jumpy and happy. Like I can sing along with the happy songs that he likes to sing, even if I'm really bad at it. Also, Mummy, every night, I can't wait to wake up the following morning because I just want to do more things with Draco. I can't wait to watch him learn more musical instruments, taste the stuff he bakes even if they're not always good because he's just learning still, watch him perfect his archery, and listen to him talk about the books that his tutor makes him read. And… and…" Harry mumbles something that makes his cheeks turn cherry red.
Queen Lily giggled; she couldn't help it. She'd expected these kinds of talks to come during Harry's teenage years; Harry had always felt things too greatly and deeply for his age, so she should have anticipated this.
"What did you say again, Harry? I didn't quite catch that, love."
"Oh!" Harry started fidgeting. "I… I said that I just like looking at Draco because… because he looks so pretty and beautiful."
"Love, you're calling your friend pretty and beautiful?" she teased.
Harry huffed. "I didn't mean it like he's a girl, Mum! I meant Draco reminded me of fairies and winter and that he's more beautiful than the flowers he wears in his hair, and I really want him to stay with me forever!" He blushed. "Yeah, that's it. I really, really, really like and love him, Mum."
The Queen gathered her son in her arms in an embrace. "Well, I'm happy for you, Harrison."
"I'm going to take good care of Draco, Mum. I'll protect him for all my life."
"I'm sure you will. But, Harry?"
"Yes, Mum?"
"Does this mean then that because you're in love, I'm no longer the most beautiful one in your eyes?"
"Mum!"
{7}
When Harry and Draco were twelve years old, their parents took them to a large and elegant cabin deep in the forest. This was, according to them, where they've decided that Harry and Draco would have to marry one another. Draco believed Queen Lily and Lady Narcissa's stories that the cabin was protected by fairies and magic; though Harry didn't believe, he humored Draco by listening to the other boy's awed speculations on when the fairies would show themselves.
The cabin was made of the wood from what used to be the oldest and largest oak tree in the kingdom. According to King James, legend said that the fairies who used to live in the tree offered the lumber to be used as a rest house for the royal family. The fairies promised to always give the new ruling king their blessing and help during times of need.
The stories made Draco go starry-eyed and excited, and if only for that, Harry was fine with the fairytales.
They were on the balcony of the cabin one night, staring at the stars and lying closely to each other, when Draco asked, "Harry, why won't you believe in the legends?"
"I just don't, Dray. Is that so bad?" Harry asked, moving his head slightly to the side so his and Draco's crowns touched.
Draco hummed and shifted closer to Harry. "I don't think so. Isn't it a little… sad? To not believe even in a little magic in your life?"
The prince looked down and saw quicksilver eyes looking up at him. He sighed and gently placed Draco's head to rest on his shoulder. "My life's not sad. As long as I have you, our families, and our friends with me, I think. Also, you believe in fairytales and magic so much that you could be believing for the two of us, yeah? So it's okay."
"You're not just teasing me, are you?" Draco asked, jerking his head slightly to hit his prince on the chin.
"Ow!" Harry rubbed his chin with the arm not wrapped around Draco and pinched the blonde with the other one. "I'm not teasing, silly. I meant what I said."
"I'm not silly," Draco mumbled, cheeks flushing furiously. Harry, who was focused on looking up at the stars, didn't see it.
"Yes, you are really silly, but you're sweet and intelligent and talented and beautiful, so I want you to stay beside me forever, okay?" Harry said softly, and Draco didn't know if the prince was falling asleep or still teasing him.
"I promised, didn't I? I'm… I'm going to stay around forever," whispered Draco, embarrassed at the things they were talking about.
"You better, Draco. No one is as pretty as you," the prince's voice drifted at the last words, probably asleep.
Draco buried his face on Harry's chest, mumbling about stupid, foolish princes and unable to fall asleep with Harry's voice calling him pretty playing on repeat inside his mind.
{8}
Harry's memories of what happened that night would always be blurry and incomplete.
There was so much confusion and shouting; one moment, he was sleeping on the hammock on the balcony with Draco, and then he was being pulled by his father into safety the next. He could remember that deafening pounding in his heart as he heard screaming—That was Lady Narcissa—and clashes of steel against steel.
He could remember holding on Draco's forearm tightly. There was no time worrying if it was painful; all that mattered was Draco shouldn't let go.
"Hold on, Draco! Don't let go of me!" Harry cried over the noise. He had to keep his eyes ahead of him as they make their escape; his only reassurance at that moment was the slender arm clutched securely within his fingers.
If it weren't for his strong need to get Draco somewhere safe, Harry would have let himself cry in fear. He could hear his father and strange men shouting, a woman's shrill cackle. Instead, he focused on getting outside the house. They were at the ground floor already, and he could see the front door.
"Draco, Draco, we're going to run and hide into the woods, alright? Stay with me, stay with me," panted Harry, pulling the other boy closer to him. When he reached for the latch on the door, long fingers closed around his wrist.
"No!"
"Harry!"
Harry tried his best to pull free from the grip without having to let go of Draco, who was also trying to pull him free. When he looked up, he saw a strange woman leering down at him. The mad glint in her eyes made Harry's skin crawl, her yellowing and sharp teeth looked like a shark's.
"Let me go, you witch!" shouted Harry, glaring at the madwoman with all his might.
"No, no, no. I won't let the little prince and his girlfriend go," the witch said in baby talk. She suddenly jerked her hand so that, suddenly, Harry was by her side, and Draco stumbled to the floor. "You think you're already big and strong, do you, Your Majesty? You can't even protect your sickening fairy princess."
Harry used her arm as a leverage to kick at her. "Don't talk about Draco like that! And let. Me. Go!"
The woman just cackled as she kicked Harry on the stomach. White lights seemed to burst behind Harry's eyelids as he doubled over in pain. He could barely hear Draco's shout of horror.
"Stop it! Let Harry go! Stop it!"
Still crumpled on the floor, Harry felt a flurry of arms going around him, pulling him away from the grip on his arm. The woman's sharp nails were starting to break his skin.
With horror, Harry just realized that Draco had come close to save him. No. No. "No, Draco! Run! Run, please, run!"
Draco stopped kicking and pulling to look at Harry's eyes. He was crying and shaking his head.
"Not without you, Harry."
The woman was still cackling above them. Draco screamed in pain when the woman grabbed his hair and pulled up.
"No!" Harry screamed, but it was drowned by his friend's sobs of pain.
"Such a sweetling, aren't you, Draco?" she cooed. "Just like your mother." She started giggling. "I think I'm gonna have fun playing with you. What do you think, Harry? Will Draco still be as pretty if we cut of all his hair and skin him alive? Or will he be as sweet when we feed him to the wolves?"
"Stop it! Let him go!" Harry tried to bite the arm holding Draco, but it was for naught. The woman was strong and her grip won't give. Draco was crying, crying and shaking, and Harry was helpless. He couldn't do anything. He was so, so pathetic.
But no. He wouldn't cry. He was going to save Draco.
He looked around, searching for a way to distract the lady so she would let Draco go, then Harry remembered the large granite that he found in the forest and was planning to give to Draco. He could still reach it in his back pocket.
Still putting up a bit of a struggle against the woman, Harry carefully slipped his hand inside his pocket. The woman kept on talking.
"Your mothers and fathers should have seen this coming. They were nothing but useless leaders for the kingdom."
He could feel the jagged edges of the stone in his fingertips.
"It's gone quiet. I think they're done with slaughter. Your mummies and daddies are dead, I think," the woman cooed.
"No! They're not!" Draco cried, scratching at the woman's arms. The woman made her loudest and most gleeful cackle yet, and Harry took his chance.
With a grunt, he swung his hand, and forced the jagged, black stone inside her mouth.
There was a muffled scream, but Harry didn't care about that. He jumped away from the woman's clutches and pulled Draco away from her.
"Quick! Run!"
They ran towards the back door of the cabin, Harry praying that they reach it, hoping that they'd escape, wishing with all his might that their parents were safe and that help was coming. He was running with all his strength, dragging Draco behind him, when something cold pierced his side.
Draco screamed and Harry felt the two of them stumble to the ground. He couldn't feel his legs anymore, it was so painful that he felt like he was on fire. There were black spots marring his vision, but he only had eyes for Draco. Weakly, he pushed the other boy away from him.
"Go. Run, Draco. Please."
"Not without you, Harry. Not without you," sobbed Draco. "Come on. Stand up please, stand up. You can still do it, right?"
"Draco, go away now!" shouted Harry. "I don't want you in here!"
Draco's tears splashed against Harry's face. "Don't wanna leave you. I promised. W-we promised."
"They're gonna kill us!" screamed Harry. "I don't want them to kill you. Go!"
It was so painful. Each time Harry breathed in air felt like he was forcing cotton through his lungs.
"Harry, come on," Draco pulled him feebly.
"I'll find you! I promise. Everything is going to be okay! I'm gonna find you in the morning. Now, just hide!"
"Don't break your promise."
They could hear footsteps. The woman was shouting for them.
"W-won't break the promise. I love you, you know? Gonna find you so we can get married."
Harry's eyes had closed, but he felt Draco's lips press against the corner of his own, with a shaky of whisper of "I love you, Harry. Please be okay." There was a slight pressure applied on his wound before the arms supporting Harry's upper body were gone.
After a prayer for Draco's safety, Harry let himself be swallowed by the darkness.
{9}
One month after the incident, twelve-year-old Prince Harrison was an empty shell.
His parents were dead. His father was killed fighting off seven men, and his mother died protecting Harry from Bellatrix Lestrange, the madwoman who had attacked him and Draco that night. Lady Narcissa and Lord Lucius were killed in the fight, too. He'd been found unconscious in a house of dead bodies by a group of hunters that had noticed the broken windows in the large house.
It was a miracle that Harry was still alive. It turned out that before Draco left, he'd applied a large amount of healing and cooling paste against his wound. Draco had always brought healing paste with him because he knew Harry was prone to wounds and scrapes whenever they went to their adventures.
Draco had always thought of him, and now, Draco was still missing.
No one knew what had happened to the boy. Harry had sent out numerous search parties to the forest and nearby kingdoms, even if he couldn't have gotten far within a week, but not even one had come back with any news nor clue about the boy's whereabouts. Harry had first refused to hold the funeral ceremonies for King James, Queen Lily, Lady Narcissa, and Lord Lucius without Draco.
Three weeks after Harry had started the wide search for his best friend but in vain, rumors had started spreading in the castle and kingdom that the future consort was dead. Eaten by either the wolves or the giant snakes from the castle were the most popular speculations on Draco's fate.
Harry refused to listen to them. He gritted his teeth and reined his anger in to avoid sending them to their deaths.
"Prince Harry."
Harry looked up from the huge map he'd been looking at to track the areas they've covered for Draco's whereabouts.
"Don't call me that. From now on, I will be addressed only as Prince Harrison," he snapped. Draco's first word as a baby had been Harry, shortening Harrison, and it stuck in their family and circle of close friends. Until Draco comes back, being addressed as Harry by anyone felt wrong.
"Pardon me, Prince Harrison," Remus Lupin, one of this father's closest friends and advisers said, bowing low. He looked tired and exhausted with grief. Harry would have sympathized, but he had been holding off his grief and tears to focus on finding Draco.
Remus cleared his throat. "I was just wondering when you'd want to proceed with your parents' and their friends' pyres."
"I told you. Once we've found Draco," Harry hissed.
"But, Your Highness, the people—your people—are waiting for the opportunity to send off their beloved King and Queen to the other side. Please consider this," Remus said. He looked at the boy bent over the table; Harrison had changed drastically within a few weeks. The boy seemed to have jumped from twelve years old, into the man he wasn't supposed to become until a few years have passed.
Remus didn't only grieve for the friends he'd lost. He also grieved for the loss of Harrison's childhood and innocence.
"Remus, I'll leave you in charge of the preparations for my parents' and Lord Lucius and Lady Narcissa's funerals," the prince said. He still hadn't looked up from marking the large map.
"Yes, Your Highness," he replied with a bow. "Do you have any specific orders?"
"Lilies, daffodils, and white roses. Lots of them."
"As you wish, Prince Harrison." With another bow, Remus left.
At the click of the door's lock, Harry sighed and looked outside the window. It was a very fine day, but he didn't appreciate it. He felt like everything that mattered to him had been taken away and now he was dying. He felt weak and tired, like an old man. He felt like when he had said goodbye to Draco that night was also the time he'd said goodbye to the old Harry and his childhood.
He was going to be a man, even if his father's advisors had looked down on twelve-year-old him. He'd been trained for this. He was going to grow up fast and go look for Draco himself, if his soldiers were too incompetent to do it.
"My life's not sad. As long as I have you, our families, and our friends with me, I think. Also, you believe in fairytales and magic so much that you could be believing for the two of us, yeah? So it's okay."
"You're not just teasing me, aren't you?"
"Ow! I'm not teasing, silly. I meant what I said."
"I'm not silly."
"Yes, you are really silly, but you're sweet and intelligent and talented and beautiful, so I want you to stay beside me forever, okay?"
"I promised, didn't I? I'm… I'm going to stay around forever."
In his twelve-year-old body, Prince Harrison became a king in his heart and mind.
{10}
"Albus, are you sure that we shouldn't bring him back to the palace?"
"No, Horace. The palace is still a very dangerous place for him."
"But Albus! Surely, you do know what is happening to the prince without him?"
"I do, Minerva. I do. However, we cannot risk Draco's life. Let them both grow up apart for a few years. Goodness knows, the universe will always insist on bringing them together no matter what."
"What are we going to do with him?"
"Albus must have an idea."
"Well, we can't keep him with us, dear brother and sister. We have many places to be."
"So we just make sure that nothing bad befalls him?"
"Minerva, there are many 'bad' things. Sometimes, we need to experience those to grow. No, we just look after our favorite godchild."
"So we just watch from the sidelines?"
"Yes, Horace."
AN: I would love it so very much if you review/comment. Now that most of life and school is out of the way, I have picked this story up again in AO3 and will update every Sunday on both sites. -L