This is the first chapter of my first Snarry fan fiction on this site, it contains depictions of major character death, sexual relations between two males, Mpreg, and magic. I own neither Corpse Bride, nor Harry Potter, I'm just playing with their plots and characters.

Any mistakes made are my own, and just know that writing this story in app is proving to be very frustrating, so I am instead writing and editing elsewhere but uploading the finished product here.

Please enjoy this story and let me know if you find anything wrong with your experience

Prologue: Until Death

It was becoming quite early in the morning, the sounds of horse drawn carriages clomping around upon the cobblestone and hushed voices the only sounds left to hear in the awakening light. A man wearing tight green leather pants sat in a moving carriage, adjusting a white frilled long sleeved shirt against his neck. His deep grey ascot, and waist coat, looking emaculate on his muscular build while his black double breasted cloak sat folded beside him. Heaving a near inaudible sigh the man cast his thoughts towards his destination once again. A new marriage proposal had come in-- just barely a week after the disaster of his last. He had been having little luck in finding someone he could tolerate living with at the very least. It was of no ones belief that love came from every single arranged marriage, and any who truthfully thought as much was a foolish child who needed reality to check in with them.

The horses carried on, the voices became hushed, staring in awe at the sight of the young man sitting within a Lord's carriage. Who he was they had their own ideas and speculations, but what he could be doing in their section of the city, none knew. For no other reason than to occupy his brain, the young man analysed the shops as he passed by seeing men and women chop off fish heads and advertise for their baked goods. Those wanting a quick sale bellowed out the quality of their items and worked faster or harder in order to gain the aristocrat's attentions.

He simply ignored them, and sat watching as a young man of a tall yet thin build hopped into a merchants carriage, it advertising fish of all things. The day was gloomy though it was most always gloomy here, a sentiment he had heard from his advisor the day before he'd left his manor.

After the young boy and his parents, or so he assumed, had rode away from his field of view, the man focused instead on the architecture of the area. Scuffed bricks and cobblestones of a dreary shade of grey stole his vision, columns erected in attempts to seem well off in the face of otherwise poverty made the man chuckle darkly. 'One should not flaunt what one does not have.'

Streets narrow into roads that were more akin to a long and barely clean alleyway, causing another sigh to grace the thin but elegant lips set upon the Lord's face. Sniffing in disgust the man fought not to pinch his prominent nose in order to keep the smell of Merlin knew what from reaching him. As it stood he would not need to breath any of the noxious fumes-- as holding his breath for less than a minute was enough to carry his assaulted nose through the area.

From there on, it was only a few turns then a straight shot towards his destination. In these last few moments of reprieve the man thought on the few instances of correspondence between himself and the woman whose hand in marriage he had been offered. If a woman she could be called; she had barely crested the age in which he would accept a proposal for an arranged marriage. Unlike many men both of his time and before him, he had no interest in marrying a child. No, it mattered not how mature they seemed outwardly, nor how they held themselves, age was a factor for him and he would not allow himself to stoop so low to consider taking a child as his bride. Sooner or later they would show their age in a most unbecoming manor and he would surely be disgusted in both them and himself.

He scoffed while thinking, 'It would garner them no support if any had attempted to decieve me in such a way.'

Coming upon his destination for the next day and night, the Lord composed himself once again as if a dark hair on his head had somehow found itself out of place. He slipped on his cloak and buttoned it up, then stepped out of his carriage gracefully.

He only had to get through this last proposal and then he would be left alone for another year at the least. This would work to discourage some, and embolden others, so he'd have to work past this quickly and without suspicion.

Setting his Deep Onyx eyes upon the door knocker of a rather modest estate which seemed just a bit brighter than the whole town he'd witnessed only mere minutes ago had been. The man wasted no time at all in setting his face on his most forbidding glare and knocking menacingly upon the door. A rather tall young man with red hair and several freckles answered the door. He was a few inches shorter than the Lord and had to look up in order to greet the older man. His clothing was that of a personal guard, light but affective and discreet armour padded for comfort and a short sword as well as a rapier at his hip.

"Lord Prince, thank you for your prompt arrival and welcome to Granger Manor."

Pretty short for a first chapter, but as it is only the prologue I felt little need to go past this point.

Please review if you'd like, and more will be revealed within the coming chapters.

- X.R.