Prince Jonathan Romulus Vorthalya James Alexander MacClintock, Heir Secondary to the Throne of Man, was upset

A/N: Well, it's an idea. I think it might even be an original one—I've never seen a Harry Potter/Empire of Man crossover. That doesn't mean that there hasn't been, just that I haven't seen it. This is meant to be epic length, but who knows if I'll actually accomplish it? I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: These worlds and characters were created by J. K. Rowling, John Ringo and David Weber.

Prologue

Prince Jonathan Romulus Vorthalya James Alexander MacClintock, Heir Secondary to the Throne of Man, was upset.

"Damnit," he muttered. "I bloody hate being Heir Secondary. I bloody hate the Throne of Man, and I bloody hate my bloody father! Emperor Roger Rameus Sergei Alexander Chiang MacClintock. What's so special about him, anyways?" Jonathan, who was 15 years old, had never wanted to be a prince. In fact, what he really wanted to be was a pioneer, living on one of the outer worlds—but when he'd finally worked up the courage to tell this to his father, his father had refused. Strongly. Remembering his reaction now, Jonathan winced.

"No," his father had said flatly. "Absolutely not. You are Prince Jonathan Romulus Vorthalya James Alexander MacClintock, and, until your sister has children and they come of age, you are Heir Secondary to the Throne of Man. You are not going to risk yourself doing any such thing. Have I made myself clear?"

Jonathan, who knew better to argue with his father (and Emperor) when he was using such a voice, had sulkily agreed. Now, though, he was considering marching back into his father's quarters and arguing anyway. He wasn't cut out to be prince! Neither was the Emperor, when he was your age, his conscience pointed out—but he ignored it. He wasn't going to be prince, and that was that!

But if he knew his father—and he did—the Emperor wasn't going to accept no for an answer. Too bad for him, then! thought Jonathan. I won't be prince! And besides, father's got plenty of spares—there's, what, Alexandra, who's Heir Primus, and then there's Sirius and Remus and Peter—they'd be better at Emperor-ing then I would, and anyway, it's Alexandra who's going to rule—not one of us!

He knew it was a stupid thing to be upset about—he'd proposed alternate plans to being a Prince to his father before, and though the Emperor had certainly refused them, it hadn't hurt him badly. It was, all things considered, not that bad being a prince—he knew, from his studies, that compared to most people, he lived in the lap of luxury. It was ridiculous to be so angry about it, and it would be utmost idiocy to run away.

But he didn't care. The idea of running away felt right, somehow, and he'd be damned if he'd let his common sense stop him.

And that very night, Prince Jonathan Romulus Vorthalya James Alexander MacClintock, Heir Secondary to the Throne of Man, began to plan his escape.

It was a miracle that he had made it. There was absolutely no way that anyone, especially someone only 15 years old, should be able to escape from the security of the Steel Battalion of the Emperor's Own. It was, in fact, physically impossible for someone in his position, with his resources, to do. And yet, he'd somehow managed it.

Even more impressive than his original escape was the fact that, somehow, he'd managed to evade capture repeatedly. Several times he'd come close, but never had they actually found him. It was enough to make him wonder, occasionally, whether someone up there liked him…

Prince Jonathan Romulus Vorthalya James Alexander MacClintock, Heir Secondary to the Throne of Man, age twenty and now known as James Potter, was happy beyond all belief. Five years ago, he'd escaped from his bodyguard, and now he was the happiest he'd ever been that he'd accomplished that feat—today, he was marrying Lily Cassandra Evans, the love of his life. He was feeling a little guilty about not telling her who he actually was, but he dismissed that. It wasn't like she needed to know; that chapter of his life was over now…

"Do you, James Jonathan Potter"—years of practice had enabled him not to flinch whenever his full false name was called, but it felt odd, to hear it used in a wedding ceremony—but it was the name on his Bachelor's degrees, and those were just as real as this was—"claim Lily Cassandra Evans to be your lawfully wedded wife, above the eyes of Satan?" asked the priest. The priest was a Satanist—James wasn't, but Lily was, and so was her family, so he'd agreed when she'd wanted a Satanist wedding service.

His smile, already wide, grew. "I do."

The priest turned to Lily. "Do you, Lily Cassandra Evans, claim James Jonathan Potter as to be your lawfully wedded husband, above the eyes of Satan?"

She nodded, smiling so happily that James thought he would burst. "I do," she replied.

"In that case, I proclaim you husband and wife. Live long and well, and may Lucifer the Rebel free the Lord in your lifetime. You may kiss the bride!"

Eyes and heart brimming, James did just that.

James walked in, whistling. It was the third year of his and Lily's marriage, and their love was still going strong. "Hey, Lils," he called, his voice making a song of it. Lily, who had been watching the television, turned to face him, face thoughtful. "What's the matter?" he asked, sliding onto the couch next to her. She shook her head. "Lily-sweet, are you alright?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just…well, it's nothing." She shrugged, and turned back to the television. James glanced at the TV; the end of an add for diapers was playing on the television. A little toddler, smiling as cute as could be, was toddling around.

James frowned. She's a bit upset about something…He glanced back at the TV.

Suddenly, he had an epiphany.

"Lily?" he said. "Do you want a…baby?"

She shrugged. "Kinda," she mumbled.

He was bewildered. "Er…why didn't you say something?" he asked

She shrugged again. "You never seemed to want one, and I didn't want to pressure you," she replied candidly.

He opened his mouth, about to reassure her, then paused. Shit. No matter how much I'd like to have a baby, I can't just have one. Much as I hate to admit it, she needs to know.

He winced. "Lily," he started, then trailed off.

"Yes, James?" she prompted once it became clear he wasn't going to continue on his own.

"Lily," he began again, "I'd love to have a baby—"

"Really?" she said, sounding truly happy.

"Yes, but…"he sighed and winced again. "There's something you need to know, first."

"What is it?"

"Well, there are a couple of things," he replied. "First off, I don't actually look like this." He indicated his brown eyes and scruffy black hair. "Secondly, I'm twenty-three, not twenty-five. And thirdly…"

"Yes?"

"Thirdly, my name isn't James Jonathan Potter."

Lily stood, mouth open and eyes shocked. "Who…who are you then?" she demanded, annoyed and hurt and even a little scared.

He winced again at her tone. "Ah. This is the shocking bit. My name, in full, is Prince Jonathan Romulus Vorthalya James Alexander MacClintock, and I am the Heir Secondary to the Throne of Man."

Ten months later, Lily and James stood around a uterine replicator, grinning like the proud parents they were. It had taken Lily a while to get over the fact that her orphaned husband not only wasn't orphaned but was also, in fact, the heir Secondary to the Throne.

But gotten over it she had, and now their relationship was even stronger than it had been. Strong enough to decide to have a child.

He grinned, unable to help it, as the doctor opened the replicator and out came their baby boy, Prince Harold Alexander D'nall Damion James MacClintock, sixth in line to the Throne of Man —known to the rest of the world as Harry James Potter. He had green eyes, just like his mother's—and now that James thought about it, remarkably similar to his Grandfather's. His hair looked a lot like James', black and scruffy, but was actually inherited from Lily's side of the family, her paternal Grandfather. His face structure was all James', from his chin to his nose to his forehead, and in his parents' eyes, he was the most beautiful thing in the universe.

Three months later, Lily was watching the television, cuddling Harry close and enjoying the re-run of Cornflower Avenue, when an emergency alert came on. Her face drained as she watched, and she swore under her breath as she waited for it to end. Once it finally did, she stood up and practically ran to the vidconsole.

She entered James' workplace's number, silently urging it to hurry up. When James finally answered, he grinned at her. "Hey, Lily-one," he said cheerfully. He frowned as he noticed her expression. "Is there something the matter?"

She laughed rather sadly. "Yes, James," she replied. "There's quite a lot the matter, actually." She took a deep breath as she prepared to relay the news:

"Prince Peter attempted a coup," she said bluntly, unsure of any way to soften the blow.

James blanched. "He…he what?" he managed to get out after several seconds.

Lily nodded. "I know. The Emperor, and Empress are alive, but…" she trailed off, unwilling to finish.

James sighed. "At least that's good news, but…wait. Lily, what happened to Remus and Sirius?"

She winced. "James…"

"Lily."

She sighed. "They…were killed, James. They were killed preventing his coup." At the look on his face, she quickly added, "Come home, James. You need to be home, now."

He nodded. "I'm on my way—shit."

"What is it?" Lily asked, really meaning: 'What is it now?'

"I just realized—Harry isn't sixth in line anymore. With Peter, Remus and Sirius out of the way, he's currently Heir Tertiary."

Lily swore.