Yay! I got such awesome reviews!
Okies, so before I start in on the next chapter, someone asked if I got this idea from a certain book. I didn't. I looked over some of the book reviews, and I don't think my story is headed in that direction, so if you're reading this, feel free to write a story based on that novel. It won't be the same as mine.
North Star of the World
Chapter 2
"Harry? I think there's a ring missing," the old man said, walking toward the small, wooden table. It was close to midnight, and all the wagons had closed to begin counting their day's profits as the last lonely wanderers finally departed for their respective homes. "I could have sworn there were twenty-four rings left in this pallet; if we sold one, then the money isn't adding up right," he finished as he took a seat across from the brunette.
Making a show of looking over and scrunching his brows in thought, he slowly murmured, "Mmm…. I think we did sell one from here, but in the last town we were in. It was a silver one, I think."
"Ah, yes. I remember that one. But are you sure we sold it in the last town?"
"Pretty sure," he replied with a shrug.
"Well, alright. I suppose so. Anyway, make sure to feed Sabina well, tonight. We've been called to entertain the King, tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Harry looked up with a frown.
"Yes, why not?"
"I thought I'd explore the town a bit; have some fun, yeh know? It's such an exquisite piece o' land."
"Are you still going on with those fancy words?" Irritation roughly sewed his words together.
"I just want to sound smarter," he replied with a pout.
"Well, quit it! You can't just pretend to be something you're not. There's no reason to be ashamed of being a merchant, anyway."
"I'm not ash-"
"Hush up and feed Sabina before you forget."
Sighing in frustration, the youth slowly stood to grab the box of mice.
"Wake up, Draco! Hurry up and get dressed! I want you to bring this bread over to Mrs. Kenting's home." She brandished a carefully woven basket of bread with a bright smile.
"Yes, mother," the boy replied with a sigh.
As the older blond left the room, Draco rubbed his eyes and sat up. Feeling a cold object rub against his brow, he opened his eyes and lowered his hand, eyeing the silver band. It was such a beautiful ring, he thought to himself, and he wondered if he would ever see the boy from the festival again.
"Harry," he whispered quietly, wanting to remember the boy's name. He had never met anyone quite as peculiar, and yet, he'd had a bouncing charisma to his persona. The blond couldn't quite tell if he liked these qualities yet, but his curiosity had most definitely been tickled.
"Draco, dear, are you almost done?"
Bouncing forward to grab a few garments lying across the foot of his bed, he called out to his mother "Yes, just a minute!"
In a few seconds, he was fully dressed and walking out the door to greet his mother. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and then proceeded to grab the basket before he was interrupted by a stern voice. "Draco, sit down and eat your breakfast before you leave."
"Yes, Father," he muttered as he sat upon the seat next to the previously unnoticed plate of eggs.
"Draco, you're not to come to work with me, today. Instead, I want you to stay here and help your mother. She's going to be preparing a special meal for your uncle, Camden. Do you remember? He's visiting tomorrow."
"Yes, I remember."
"Good. Now hurry up and finish so you can take that bread as your mother wants you to."
"Hello, Amelia." The door opened to reveal, to Draco's slight dismay, the youngest Kensington.
"Oh, Draco, hello! It's such a pleasure to see you." Her eyes shone happily as she threw a wide smile in his direction.
"And a pleasure it is to see you, as well. Is your mother home?"
"Well, no. She just went out to fetch some butter. She tried to buy a bit yesterday, but the lines were so long; by the time she got to the cart she'd been waiting for, they'd completely run out!"
"Oh, that's too bad. Well, my mother wanted me to bring your mother this bread."
"Oh, Draco! Thank you! It smells delicious!" She let her hand gently caress Draco's as she took the basket. "You know," the brunette began, her face revealing a mixture of mischief and hope, "my brother's home. He's in his room, working on something or another. I'm sure it would be just fine if you wanted to come in for a bit."
Draco gave a meek, nervous smile. "Well, I- I would, but, well, I have to go back and help my mother prepare for a guest tomorrow. You see, my uncle is coming to visit us."
"Oh, no. I mean, it's great that your uncle is coming for a visit tomorrow. I'm sure he'll enjoy the town. It's really quite lovely."
"Yes."
"Are you sure you can't come inside for just a little while. We could just talk for a few minutes."
Draco turned his head slightly to the right, looking around while he thought for a moment. The two hadn't been able to properly "chat" the night before, and perhaps now would be the perfect time to get closer to the young brunette. His mother most certainly wouldn't mind his being a few minutes late if it helped further build the relationship between the two.
"Actually, that would be great."
Her eyes lit up and she leaned forward to give him a brief kiss on his cheek before pulling back and gesturing for him to enter.
"Have a seat," she said, pointing to a previously pulled out chair by the kitchen table. "I could make you something to eat, if you like."
"Oh, no. It's quite alright. I just ate breakfast."
"Alright, then. Would you like some water?" She quickly began pouring water from a mauve jug, not bothering to wait for Draco's reply.
"Oh, er… thanks." He took the cup from the excited girl and tried to ignore her eager stare as she watched him drink down the cool water. As he set the half empty cup upon the table, he noticed she was still eagerly staring. Not knowing what exactly the girl was waiting for, he commented, "It's… good."
That seemed to be enough as she smiled brilliantly before pulling out the chair to his right and sitting down. She bashfully tucked her hands within the fabric of her dress lying gently upon her lap. Her whole body seemed to suddenly shy away, and her eyes dropped down, staring into the newly-made bumps in her dress, made by the two hiding hands.
"So… did you have fun at the festival last night?"
"Oh, yes, I did." She smiled up at him and then quickly dropped her eyes once more.
"Yes, I can't wait for the festival to come again next year. Do you suppose a few carts stay open even today if they haven't sold off all their items?"
"I don't know for sure, but I think not. My mother told me they go from village to village; town to town. I don't think they'd ever sell everything they had. If they did, they wouldn't have anything to sell for the next town they went to visit."
"What if someone wanted to go buy something the next day? What if, say, they hadn't had enough money the day before, but wanted to go back now to buy something?"
"What do you mean?" She asked, confused.
Draco stuttered for a moment, trying to cover up his true intentions, before saying, simply, "Nothing." The two sat in silence for a few short seconds.
He had been wondering about Harry.
If he wanted to visit Harry at his wagon, would he be there? If Draco knocked on the wooden shutters, would the brunette open?
"Well, I really shouldn't keep my mother waiting any longer," he finally said, trying to make his words sound full of regret as he slowly stood from the table.
"I suppose you're right. Well, tell her I said thank you for the bread."
Draco nodded with an apologetic smile before heading back along the five-minute trek to his cottage.
As he walked, he pictured Amelia's face. He pictured himself marrying her and raising children with her. The images were attractive enough, as was she, but he couldn't help feel the idea was a bit… boring; dull; tasteless, even.
His breath escaped him with a sigh as he reached his home and entered through the door.
After a few hours of cleaning around the house while his mother cooked, Draco was called upon and asked to "please fetch some apples from that store just next to John's tavern" because "Camden will like an apple pie so much more than a blueberry pie."
Taking a penny from his mother, he set out for "that store just next to John's tavern."
The walk was a bit longer than the walk to Amelia's house, but Draco took glee upon the fact that he would pass the caravan of wagons on the way. Perhaps, he hoped, he might see Harry.
But he did not see Harry.
He did not see Harry as he nonchalantly walked past the carts and onward toward his original destination, and he did not see Harry on his way back as he not so subtly walked very close to the wagons, eyeing the now identical vehicles, each with its shutters closed, safely protecting the merchandise within.
Perhaps he was at Peter's Pub, enjoying the drink Draco should have bought him. He eyed the direction in which he knew the pub to be, but decided to return to his home instead. If Harry wasn't at the pub, then he would look like a fool: walking in, looking around, and then walking out. And if Harry was at the pub, he would look an even bigger fool, as he hadn't any money with him.
It was a gloomy walk back.
"Oh, Draco, thank you!"
He nodded quietly and walked to his room, sitting tiredly on his bed. His mother walked in after him. "Is everything alright, Draco?"
"Yes. I suppose I'm just a bit tired."
"Oh, sweetie," Narcissa cooed, laying a comforting hand upon his left cheek. "I'm almost done for the day. Why don't you take a nap, hmm?"
"Mum, no. Dad said I –"
"Your father won't know. Besides, you're a growing boy. You're bound to get tired, and when you do, you need your rest. Now take a small nap. I'll wake you in about an hour or so."
Smiling, he thanked his mother and gave her a chaste kiss before tiredly kicking off his shoes and preparing for a nap.
As he slept, he dreamed of bouncing silver rings, dancing tiaras, and a grinning boy with emeralds for eyes.
The red-bearded king let his lids droop with boredom as he watched three midgets juggle before him, walking in circles as they did, and regularly switching balls with each other in perfect rhythm. He let out a gregariously loud yawn, inducing frightened trembles within the three men.
Their hands became sweaty as their nerves built up and they slowly began to lose track of each other's beats. One of the men accidentally dropped a red ball with a small yelp and quickly stooped to pick it up and continue, but the king had long since grown tired of the repetitive act.
"Enough!" he exclaimed. "You are of no entertainment to me. I have seen this act much too often! Send them away! They are not to be paid for their hideous performance."
Two of the three men whimpered while the third held back a growl, knowing the severe consequences that would be dealt out if he did not keep his temper. Four large, bulky men slowly walked forward, pushing the much smaller men out with merely their menacing glares and occasional grunts.
"Would someone please bring me something a little more entertaining! I have already seen these acts a thousand times!"
"Your Majesty, we have another act scheduled for today. They are new," came the shaky voice of a young messenger boy with stringy, tawny hair.
"Do not send them in unless you are certain I have not seen it before. If I have, it will be your death."
The boy sucked in a nervous gulp of air. "I don't think you've seen them before, Your Grace. They come baring entertainment taught in the East. Arabia, I believe."
"You had better be certain, Eaton."
"Y-yes, My Lord," the boy stuttered with a bow.
"Bring them in!"
A rather medium-sized man with a short, white beard walked in, a smile on his face. "You're Majesty," he began with a bow. "I bring you my most precious possession – my slave boy, Harry."
As the petite brunette walked in with a blank face, save for his possessive, seductive eyes, the king sat back with a powerful grin, his eyes staring hungrily.
AN: No, Harry is not some stripper boy. Give me a little more credit! 8P
Also: taboo, I know, but I couldn't think of another thing for Harry's eyes! I will try with all my might not to use the ever popular "emeralds" again. Also, note: no, the bearded old man is not Dumbledore. It's the man from Harry's wagon - his "boss".
Anyway, this was most definitely, without any doubt in the world, an obvious filler chapter. However, fear not! In the next chapter, Draco will get to buy Harry that drink he owes him. Ooh, by the way, I'd love for you guys to let me know what you think Harry's manner of "entertainment" is. I think I might have made it a little too obvious for you guys. ;P
Please review!
PS- since I'm on break, I'll probably post up the next chapter next week. It should be good. :p
xoxo Spideria xoxo
