Dangerous Liaisons
Author: soccerchick250
Rating: R for evenutal slash
Disclaimer: This Harry Potter story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. This site is for entertainment purposes only. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended
Summary: It is the year 1161 in middle ages London England. King Draco finds himself in a predicament when he falls in love with a young apprentice named Harry. AU Harry/Draco
Chapter One: The Great Feast
The year was 1161 deep in the inviting, beneficial city of London, England. The countries stood divided yet peacefully waiting as any elder ever could recall. Though the streets were unclean and the stench of livestock and unwashed children wafted heavily in the air, the townspeople took no notice. Weather it be caused by the heavy flow of rum and wine drinks of late or not, we may never know.
Yes, the populous town was rejoicing that very day. The farmers put down their spades and the artists gave their easels a well-deserved rest. The local scholars forgot their Latin and their mathematics, much to the chagrin of the resident school master. It had been the second day of a three day festival, held on the church grounds near the old, rotten cemetery.
There was laughter, entertainment, merchants (and of course, alcohol) at every turn. These were the precious times in the year when the serfs could forget their farms, and (occasionally check up on) their chickens. Troubadours strolled around casually accompanied by their mandolins serenading random damsels with their thick English accents. Enemies traded jokes and foreign stories and all was well within the stone walls inclosing the merry town of London.
All, except for the woes of one Draco Malfoy. Although he prefers the term 'King Draco' to all who wish to keep their heads firmly planted on their shoulders. He sad languidly in his jewel-incrusted throne inside the beautiful old castle made of solid stone. The same throne in the very same castle on which his father, King Lucius sat none too long ago. A sad sigh escaped his rosy lips.
"Silver coin for your thoughts." A voice beside him exclaimed. It was his royal advisor, Severus Snape. The man was old and somewhat unkempt, but he treated Draco like the godson he was, work aside. "Surely the king should be sporting the largest smile in all of England on this happy day. No law troubles to fret over, no chance of attack on His Holy day of rest, as well as the fact that he shall be marrying the most beautiful princess on this half of the flat Earth!" Severus nudged the young king to emphasize his point.
"You argue a first-class debate, Severus," the king half yelled over the music, and took another swig of wine, "though my troubles stretch beyond this day. I have recently told you of my woes of marriage. In two years as of tomorrow I am to marry a complete stranger! Any man in my place would feel the same. I weep for my stolen childhood. No young boy of 9 should take on the responsibilities of a kingdom!"
"We all mourned the loss of your father. He was a great man who died in battle, for what he believed in. I'm sure if he could have changed his fate, he would have spent more time with you, and not of bequeath this large burden upon your pale shoulders; but as his only heir, England had no other choice."
"But I couldn't even fit the crown on my head during the crowning ceremony! It slipped past my eyes and onto my shoulders! It was a sign from the Heavens that this should never have been!" He waved his silk-cloaked arm, indicating the company feasting in the Great Hall.
His godfather smiled at the memory of a young, blushing Draco, but dismissed his complaints to silence. The king often complained of his lack of privacy or his arduous kingly chores, and of his arranges marriage. "The festival will be over the day after tomorrow, your sixteenth birthday. Until then, try your best to enjoy yourself, my liege. "Bring out the entertainment!" Severus yelled.
Draco reached for a grape as the mood and the music of the hall suddenly changed. A high-pitched horn melody rang through the halls, and the laughing vassals and knights quieted their noise and sat expectantly at the four long tables of the hall, riddled with food. About 10 tanned, beautiful women with long flowing hair and sexually arousing sequined outfits. They moved in unison about the hall, doing a effective promiscuous routine before spreading out and dancing in a determined area, the most beautiful one dancing for (or perhaps on) Draco.
She batted her long eyelashes seductively at him, yet his expression remained invariable. Women never had an effect on him. Being king, he would be around the most beautiful of aristocrats at all times, although it was exclusively the men who he would be making eyes at.
Of course, this type of behavior was frowned upon during these times. Christianity was omnipresent wherever you may be, and being the noble king of England, one had to be respectable and admired at all times, as well as produce an heir to the throne. Draco's sexual preference had to be kept behind closed doors, preferably those of his bath chamber. Knowing that he would soon be forced to marry a woman against his will further depressed him and he inevitably lost all interest in the wench before him. He pushed her off him carefully before rising, she looked very offended though kept quiet. Draco guessed that she could not speak English.
"My dear friends!" Draco yelled to his people, who grudgingly turned their attention away from the beautiful women and eventually onto their adoring king. They clapped and cheered his speech. "Thank you all for a wonderful celebration!" More applause. "Enjoy the entertainment and drink your fill, for tomorrow, we celebrate not only the third and final day of the celebration; but my coming of age into manhood!" On that last bellowed note, he seized his wine goblet and drank the rest of its contents amongst the frenzied cheers. "Here, here!" Were his finals word before nodding to Severus and quickly stalking off to bed alongside his trusted guard, twin Sirs Weasley.
"You couldn't have looked more interested when the Arabian woman was dancing on you, my king.," said one of the two as they sauntered down the stone hallway with the stained glass windows, centuries old. Draco could never tell the knights apart, but they joked as old friends do.
"Do shut up," he muttered whilst pulling off his robe, then shirt and tossing them over his head, only to be caught by a member the large group that perpetually escorted the king.
"If you can call that dancing, that is," said the other. Luckily, Draco reached his bedchamber before having to come up with a retort. He was much to drunk and depressed, not the healthiest mix. The twins stood guard at the door while one of the king's maids helped him into his bedclothes and tucked him in. "Goodnight, Sir." he whispered before blowing out the candles and exiting.
Draco fell asleep instantly, ignoring the loud music and laughter trailing up and down the castle walls, as well as outside of them, as the wine in his blood took its effect.
And as the king slept, a young apprentice of fifteen milled about the church grounds, sporting several swords about his belt and demonstrating them to older men, trying to make a sale. Little did he know the impact of this young orphan on his liege's not-too-distant future.
To be continued..