OceanDreams: Hey everyone
OceanDreams: Hey everyone! Once again thanks for the great reviews. A few people asked about Harry being so young and being courted, I'm trying to keep somewhat historically correct with the time the story is set in. In the medieval times, girls were married off almost as soon as they hit puberty due to short life expectancies. And trust me I know how young a girl can be when she hits puberty! It's the same with Harry. Also, yes Severus is Lucius' half brother, and although Narcissa is married to Lucius, that is the only familial ties the Blacks, have to the Malfoys. Enjoy the next chapter.
OoooooO
Regulus winced as the muscles of his back clench, and then nearly stumbled when his left knee gave out beneath him. He caught himself on post of his bed. He knee protested once again as slowly lowered himself down to the mattress, the soft down cushioning the knee. The fire blazed merrily in the front of the room, protecting the room against the winter chill. Even though most of the castle was well insulated, the tendrils of cold that managed to sneak in always seemed to find Regulus and annoy his old wounds. His work for Draco was done for the day and the young king had allowed him the rest of the afternoon and evening to do what he pleased.
His room was off in a small hallway that was connected to Draco's should the king need him during the night. It was a small suite, with only a small bedroom and bathroom, but Regulus had never needed anything bigger, and the privacy of the corridor was pleasant. His fireplace was surrounded by bookshelves, a warm rug lying in front with a single arm chair and side table on the rug. Sunlight filtered in from the large set of floor to ceiling windows that made up one whole wall. The windows overlooked the castle gardens, which were bare, save for the evergreen trees at the far edge of the garden. His bed was placed on the west wall, the right side of the small four poster bed facing the window. Directly across from the bed on the east wall was his simple wardrobe. It wasn't much, but it was his.
Regulus moved into his bathroom, the bathtub the only luxury he had requested from Draco. Not only was the bathtub made of marble, not a rare material, but one certainly not used for a man disowned from his family and little more than a servant. What made his bathtub truly a luxury were the pipes that connected to the hot springs that ran beneath the mountains of Slytherin. It was Draco's grandfather that had had the springs diverted to collect in a large reservoir underneath the castle. It provided hot water to almost every part of the castle.
Regulus stopped up the tub and twisted the single knob, a pitcher of cold water ready on the floor incase the water needed to be cooled. The room was soon filled with warm steam. He quickly undressed, leaving the dirty clothes in the hamper next to the doorway to be taken care of later. The soft afternoon sunlight filtered in from the small window above the bathtub, the moisture on Regulus' skin causing the scars that littered his back to glisten in the light. He stepped into the tub, the warmth soothing his aches and pains. While Regulus frequently used the bathtub, it had been years since he had actually enjoyed it. Not sense his lover was here to share it with him. Old memories returned, the hurt still as fresh as the day his lover had been forced to flee the kingdom. Regulus had thought the other man was dead for almost half a year before he finally received a carefully coded letter that let Regulus know his lover was alive. How Regulus wished he were there with him now. His love's strong arms wrapped around him. Regulus held in the whimper that threatened to escape, allowing only silent tears to fall down his face.
He had received a coded letter from their intelligence hidden inside Voldermort's army, that the Dark Lord planned to move on north from Ravenclaw towards Gryffindor. Regulus only prayed that this alliance with Gryffindor went through. He could only pray that his lover was seen through safely.
OoooooO
Harry took another deep breath as his lower abdomen cramped again. His hand moving under the thick blanket that covered his legs to massage the aching muscles. When his mother and Severus had explained his monthly cycle to him, he'd had no idea it would be this bad. These cramps were killing him, he didn't know how his mother had done it for so many years. He lifted his eyes away from his book, prepared to wait out the cramp. Except for the actual bleeding, Harry's cycles were very similar to those of women. He experienced all the symptoms, the headaches, the bloating, cramps, even mild mood swings. He and Severus had researched what little information they had on bearers and found that while Harry didn't bleed out at the end of every cycle, his body still prepared similarly to a women's. His blood still gathered in preparation to cushion the womb, and at the end of the cycle the blood would be filtered back onto his body to be reused. If he did become pregnant the blood would exit with the afterbirth. It was so new to Harry. He had been scared at first, but he had slowly grown used to it. Though at times, he wished he hadn't been born a bearer.
Harry sighed in relief as the cramp subsided, and returned to his book. The library was quite this evening, the adults discussing different options to propose at the alliance meeting in half a year's time. The door opened quietly and Camron's head appeared inside the room.
"Thought I might find you in here," he said, coming into the room. He held a cup of steaming tea in his hands. "Mother said something warm to drink always helped her," he explained handing the cup to Harry and taking a seat in the chair across from his brother and stretching his legs out towards the fire.
Harry took the cup gratefully, breathing in the calming scent of peppermint. He took a sip, the tea warming his body.
"Thank you, Camron. This is wonderful," Harry slowly finished the tea, savoring the taste before placing the empty cup on the side table and picking up his book again.
"I heard about the letter, Harry" Camron stated quietly, shifting so that he was sitting upright in his chair. "You don't have to worry, father would never agree to it."
"Father has already agreed," Harry whispered so softly that his brother didn't even hear him.
"We will find another way, we don't need Slytherin. We can take down Voldermort on our own," Camron continued getting up from his chair and pacing before the fireplace.
"Camron!" Harry said loudly, surprising both himself and Camron, "Father has already agreed to the proposal."
"FATHER AGREED TO WHAT!!"
Harry winced as Camron's yell echoed through the quiet library. Harry placed the book he had been reading on the side table and rearranged the wool blanket wrapped around his legs.
"I agreed too, Camron."
Camron pacing before the fireplace grew faster, his hands clenching and unclenching as he walked.
"What were you both thinking?" he asked angrily. He stopped in front of Harry's chair, kneeling so that they were on a more even level. "What were YOU thinking, Harry?"
"I was thinking I was doing the best thing for my country," Harry whispered angrily, averting his eyes from his brother's.
Camron sighed and rested his forehead against Harry's blanket clad knees, his previous anger leaving him.
"It doesn't have to be this way, Harry," he whispered softly. "We can find another way. You don't have to marry that devious piece of scum."
"Camron!" Harry exclaimed and slapped the top of his brother's head. "We haven't seen Draco in years. You have no idea what he's like now. He could be a completely honorable gentleman."
"Harry, this is brat that almost killed you. Or don't you remember those two weeks you burned with fever!"
Harry forced his older brother to look him in the eyes, Camron's deep blue eyes filled with resentment, "Draco wasn't alone in that Camron."
Camron winced, averting his eyes, and Harry almost felt guilty for using what he knew was a low blow to his brother, but Harry knew this alliance needed to work.
"I know father could reject Draco's proposal, but he can't afford to." Harry held up a hand before Camron could protest. "I see how few men return each time you come back from battle Camron," He gently ran his fingers soothingly through his brother's hair, "I'm afraid that one day it will be you, or Sirius or Remus or Severus that doesn't return. I know that Gryffindor can't hold out against Voldermort for much longer. Slytheirn is strong. They could turn the tide of this war for us brother. Please," Harry pleaded, "let me do what I can to help the kingdom."
Camron stood, knees popping and pulled Harry into a tight hug.
"How did my twelve year old brother get to be so wise and selfless?" he asked softly.
"Camron, we both had to grow up fast with this war. We were both needed, in different ways." Harry responded, then smiled slyly up at his brother, "Besides I'm not completely selfless. Draco could be completely gorgeous and I could fall madly in love with him."
Camron growled, stalking back towards the fireplace, leaning against the mantle, "Don't even joke about that Harry!"
The grin slid off Harry's face, and he got up from his chair and placed the blanket of the armrest. He moved to Camron forcing him to turn from the fireplace and wrapped his arms around him in a warm hug.
"Would that be so bad, brother? For me to be happy and in love? To have a husband that loves me?"
Camron was silent and Harry rested his head against the taller chest.
"Camron, even if I do fall in love with Draco. You will always be my big brother. No one can ever take your place."
OoooooO
Harry sat at the chopping counter of the kitchen, watching as Ron helped prepare the evening meal. Ron was as talkative as ever. The ginger head discussing his day with Harry and running his latest ideas of wooing Hermione to Harry. He watched in concern as Ron carelessly chopped the carrots, the knife coming ever closer to the ginger haired boy's fingers.
"Damn!" Ron cried, as the knife cut the skin of his left thumb. Harry sighed in exasperation and took hold of Ron's hand before the other boy could bring the wounded finger to his mouth. Harry healed Ron at least four times a week. A small tingle of magic and the thumb was good as new. Ron grinned at him, "What would I do without you, Harry?"
"Not have any fingers." Harry stated, plucking one of the carrots off the table and popping it into his mouth.
"Hey! Leave some for the rest of us!" Ron joked throwing one of the carrot pieces at Harry's head. He dodged the flying vegetable, laughing as it flew behind him to hit Percy, another one of Ron's brothers, in the back of the head. The older boy scowled and Ron and Harry laughed behind their hands. It was getting closer to the evening meal and the kitchen was starting to get crowded. Harry hopped off the stool and dusted himself off.
"I think I'll go clean up before dinner," He told Ron, grabbing another carrot on his way by.
"See you later, mate!" he called with a wave before turning back to his vegetables.
Harry wasn't even in the hallway before he heard Percy scold Ron for being so informal with Harry. Ron had been one of Harry's best friends since they were young children and the ginger haired boy had always made him feel like a normal boy. He never tried to treat him like he was made of glass, or treat him with the formality most of the other court children did. Even if Ron was a servant boy, he and his family meant the world to Harry. He would miss them terribly when he married and left the castle.
The halls were quite, most of the servants busy with preparing dinner, and his parents still in their meeting. Only a few of the visiting nobles were around, all bowing to him as he went by. Harry was glad when he finally reached the sanctuary of his rooms. He had moved out of the nursery portion of his parents' rooms when he was six, but their rooms were only a wing over, and Camron was right down the hall if he needed them, but it was nice to have the privacy of his rooms.
His rooms were warm when he opened the door, the fire blazing at full strength. His rooms were done in warm shades of dark brown and green, the dark wood of his furniture coming from their own forest at his request and not the more expense foreign wood, often shipped in for nobles and royalty. A large couch stood at an angle to the fire, a love seat directly across from it. A small coffee table was placed in between the two. The area that held his bed was raised slightly, a single small step leading up from the living area. His bed was draped in a hunter green down comforter. The heavy velvet brown bed curtains pulled around to keep out the light while he slept. A large bay window overlooked the forest, a cushion seat piled with pillows for Harry to rest against while sitting at the window. It was one of his favorite places to sit and think. A well-worn afghan was folded to the right side of the seat, the green wool a Yule gift from the Weasleys when he was young. Dragon sat on one of the pillows, the toy's head cocked to one side seeming to watch Harry in amusement.
Harry picked up Dragon and folded him in his arms, the fur soft against his cheek. He took a seat at the window, pressing his forehead against the cool glass. Another cramp started, lighter than the previous ones, and Harry waited it out. He wondered what it would be like to be pregnant, to grow so big. It hadn't seemed real to Harry until now that he could and would bear children. His mother had explained everything to him of course, but it had never actually affected Harry. He didn't know if he was prepared to bring a child into the world. Harry wasn't to prideful to admit that the prospect scared him. He knew this marriage to Draco was vital to the kingdom, and he knew a child would be expected of him. His father couldn't hold out against Voldermort for much longer. Harry was never told much about the war, the adults only telling him what he had to know, but he never wanted to wake up to Camron's terrified screams again. If this was to be Harry's duty to the kingdom, then so be it. And like he had told Camron, he might even come to love Draco.
Three quick raps on the door brought Harry from his musing. Severus never knocked unless he wasn't sure of Harry's mood. Slight annoyance flared, but Harry knew he shouldn't be upset with Severus, it was the situation that annoyed him. Everyone was walking on tip-toe around him and the subject. He was getting tired of it. Now even Severus, who Harry relied on to keep his wits about him, was treating him like some fragile girl.
"Come in!" He called.
Severus was silent as he entered, the door closing behind him. He watched Harry carefully, the boy refusing to meet his eyes. Severus stoked the dying fire, the flames leaping up, renewed.
"I heard about your father's decision," he stated softly.
"I'm sure everyone has by now," Harry huffed.
The corners of Severus' lips twitched and he moved behind Harry, turning the boy around on the window seat to face him. Harry still refused to look at him. Severus gripped Harry's chin and tilted his face up so that he could lock eyes with the boy.
"No one is forcing this, Harry," Severus explained, "It does not have to happen immediately. You have time."
"It would be better if it happened sooner though, wouldn't it?"
Harry asked.
"Yes, Harry, it would," Severus replied as he tucked a strand of errant hair behind a small ear. Severus took a seat next to Harry, his arm sliding around the slim shoulders. Harry leaned into his side, snuggling into his warmth.
"I'm scared, Severus," Harry whispered, burying his face in Severus' shirt.
"There is no need to be afraid, young one," Severus soothed, rocking the Harry back and forth. "We would never put you into a situation where you would be unhappy. If you found Draco to be inadequate for you, your brother alone would destroy his kingdom."
Harry chuckled, the picture of Camron in blazing fury cheering him slightly. He gazed up at Severus, the older man smiling that small smile that was just for Harry.
"What do you think love is Sev?" Harry asked, reverting to his child nickname for Severus.
Severus was quite for a moment, his arm tightening around Harry's shoulders. "A person's greatest strength and their greatest weakness," was the quite reply.
"Have you ever been in love, Sev?"
When Severus didn't answer, Harry was afraid he'd asked something he shouldn't have. Severus' face was pained, a look Harry didn't see much on his mentor's face. He was about to apologize, when Severus spoke.
"Yes, I have been very much in love before, young one."
"Do you ever miss her?"
Severus gave a small chuckle, "I miss and think about him everyday."
"Do you think I could ever love Draco?"
"I think so, Harry, I think so."
OoooooO
Harry knew as soon as it was announced that HE had returned, he should have taken up Ron's offer to eat with him in the kitchen. It was a few days before his father's birthday, and many of the local towns leaders had joined Harry and his family for a festive dinner. HE had show up and ruin it. Harry hated very few people, but he hated no one more than Peter Pettigrew. The man reminded Harry of a rat, slinking around where he didn't belong. While he had been a lifelong friend of his father, Sirius, and Remus, Harry had never trusted or liked the man. Severus agreed with Harry, and Harry knew if he couldn't trust his own instincts, he could always trust Severus. When the man had been sent away for recruitment missions, Harry wasn't said to see him go. The man was gone a majority the year, with winter not allowing him to travel much, and the other three seasons used to rally allies and volunteers for the war. This meant Harry hardly ever had to put up with man. He was now sitting next to James, the two discussing possible allies. Pettigrew's scent drifted down towards Harry, and the boy was hit a wave of nausea. Harry pushed his plate away.
"There was one promising man, my king," Pettigrew's voice was loud over the many others in the dining hall. "A country lord from Hufflepuff. He has some wealth, and his own personal army. A strategic genius. He has so far managed to protect his holdings from any small bands of Voldermort's army that finds its way to his lands."
"He sounds promising, Peter. We could use all the help we can get at this point. What did you say his name was?" James asked.
"Lord Thomas Riddle, my king."
Harry huffed and stood, bidding his father and mother a good evening and excusing himself. Who wanted to hear about Lord Riddles anyway. The kitchens sounded much more pleasant to Harry.