Prince and Princess :
Once upon a time, there was a king named Fleamont and a queen named Euphemia who ruled a large and mighty kingdom. And yet they were sad, for they were growing old and had no child to inherit the throne. Then, happily a son was born, a prince, and he was given the name Harry.
Kings and queens came from far away to offer their gifts to the young prince, among them, King Henry, Queen Grace and their young daughters - Princesses Petunia and Ron. Petunia was a dainty little thing, tight blonde curls and an oval shaped face. At five, the weight of being crown princess already weighed on her dainty little head and manifested in her unwillingness to play with other children or get her hands dirty. She was several years senior to Ron, who was but a babe with shocking red hair with the temperament of an angel.
Queen Grace carried Princess Ron to the baby prince lying in his crib and helped Ron drop a pocket watch, etched with their kingdom's coat of arms - a stag and his proud antlers - into the crib for baby Harryto play with. He put the pocket watch in his mouth immediately and began sucking on it. Baby Ron let out a delighted laugh and Queen Grace set Ron down in the crib with Harryto play together, a look of wonder on her face as she turned to face her old friend and neighbour across the sea, Queen Euphemia.
It was at this moment that Queen Grace and Queen Euphemia happened upon the same idea. They were of each other's age, they were of similar birth and they would be a great excuse to get their husbands to travel. Ron and Harrywould be brought together each summer in the hopes that they would fall in love and establish goodwill between the kingdoms forever.
They watched their children play together in Harry's crib and smiled smugly. This was such a good idea. It would be a match made in heaven.
Harryeyed the girl with red hair descending from the carriage with wary eyes. His mother had told him that he was supposed to treat her real nice because she was very special and something about mat tree money that he didn't really get. What did he need tree money for anyway?
His mother, Queen Euphemia stood behind him with a hand on his shoulder. His father, King Fleamont stood on his other side.
The little girl stood in front of him, also flanked by her parents and by her mean older sister. Sweeping her large pink skirt before her, she said, 'I'm very pleased to meet you, Prince Harry.'
His face scrunched up in a grimace and he tried to squirm but his mother must have known this would happen because she squeezed his shoulder. "Mother," he hissed in pain.
"Harry," she scolded. "Remember what we practised," she said through her teeth and smiled at the foreign people.
He tucked one arm into his middle and let the other flourish behind him as he bowed down, as practised. "Pleased to meet you, Princess Ron." He felt his glasses fall down the bridge of his nose and subtly tried to push it back up with the hand at his chest. Then he held onto the girl's hand, as was practised, even though this hand was a lot smaller than his mother's one and didn't have any rings on it. As he was bending down to press a kiss onto it he caught the princess's face looking at him like the way he looked at brussel sprouts and he almost backed out of it completely. But his mother coughed loudly and he knew he'd never hear the end of it. He scrunched his face and - mwah.
She snatched her hand away and wiped it on her dress in disgust, her ears turning red.
He wiped his lips on the back of his hand, his face scrunching up again.
Queen Euphemia and Queen Grace met each other's eyes and smiled.
Ron had picked up one of his wooden swords and was swinging it around while their parents were walking through the castle.
'I thought princesses were supposed to do things like sewing and reading.'
'I can sew and read and still beat you in a sword fight.'
Harryhad three sword-fighting 'lessons' under his belt, eked out of the swordmaster who eventually relented and gave him a wooden sword and taught him how to hold it and he wasn't afraid of this girl.
About eleven crushing defeats in a row later, he realised - maybe he should be.
The library was Ron's favourite place in the whole wide world. It had two of her favourite things in it. Books. And Draco. Draco's mother was the librarian and the first time they met Ron was reading The Once and Future King and Draco had told her that Arthur would die. She had cried. The next time she saw him, he handed her another book - The Ranger's Apprentice. He told her that if she liked fantasy but couldn't handle death and unhappy endings, perhaps this was more up her alley.
She gobbled up the book. And soon gobbled up the rest of the series and a friendship over books was born.
Ron liked how Draco didn't care what she wore and didn't fuss around her. Didn't laugh as she mispronounced words she only picked up through reading. He was her best friend. And he hated it whenever Prince Harrycame to visit.
One time before Prince Big Head's (their current nickname for him) impending visit, they were curled up in the library as usual, attention diverted from their usual reading time together as Ron said something out loud that she'd never been able to say to her sister or her parents.
"I wish I wasn't a princess sometimes."
Draco had stopped reading immediately, keeping a finger to mark where he was up to and nodding for her to continue.
"It's just - it's so much pressure. And expectation."
"Royalty comes with benefits though?" Draco suggested. He gestured to the library and the palace grounds beyond them. "You have a future. You can do things. You can go on adventures. I will only ever be able to read about them."
Ron shook her head. "It's really not like that. I'm not allowed to do much. Father lets me get away with things that women haven't done in a hundred years since the last Great War. Things like fencing and archery and wearing trousers. Petunia is always throwing a fit and asking what kind of princess am I. Why do I have to be a princess at all? Why can't I just be me?"
"You can be you with me," Draco offered.
Ron smiled brightly in response.
"I wish there didn't have to be kings and queens and princes and princesses!" Draco suddenly declared. "I wish you could be you and I could be me and we could marry whoever we wanted!"
"Yeah!" echoed Ron, taken with the idea of a world without expectations or pressure or high heels and stockings and just mother and father - not King and Queen who were often busy with stately duties.
"I've actually heard of someone who believes this is possible." Draco admitted to Ron.
"How?" she asked, her expressive green eyes turning to him in curiosity.
Draco looked out the window at the darkening sky. "Come, I know where he is. I overheard mother talking about it once. But you have to keep it a secret!"
Ron nodded, all seriousness. She followed him as they left the library. They walked through the castle and Ron felt a chill when Draco suddenly opened a door she had never been in before, one that had steps leading down deep underground and a musty smell in the air. One foot hovered tentatively over the first stone step.
She whispered, "Are you sure we're allowed down here?"
Draco didn't answer her, instead taking her hand and pulling her along. "Come on, Ron!"
She followed him. He took a torch from the wall and down they went. Down and down and down. She asked if she could hold the torch for warmth and he obligingly gave it to her. She figured if she met someone she didn't like along the way, she could also maybe use the torch as a weapon. She felt a sudden longing for her archery set back on the training grounds.
All of a sudden, Draco stopped and when Ron looked into the room beyond, she could make out a huddled figure inside. His skin looked gray and he had slits where she thought a nose would be but maybe it was a trick of the light.
"Draco Malfoy," the man rasped out and Draco jumped a little in response, clearly startled the man knew his name.
"Princess Ron," the man continued.
Ron lifted her chin up, refusing to be intimidated by this man. She then ushered her friend to stand behind her as she thrust the torch light towards the cell to see better.
"I am Lord Voldemort."
"You're not a Lord anymore," said Draco, from behind Ron's back. "I heard you got stripped of all of your titles and lands."
Lord Voldemort inclined his head. "I don't need titles or lands to be a Lord."
Ron scrunched her face up in confusion. Her teachers had laboured upon her the inner workings of the feudal system, how title was passed down from Lord to heir and she was pretty sure what actually made someone a Lord was the land that they lorded over.
"How is that possible?" Draco asked, articulating Ron's thoughts.
"Don't you think that it is unfair that our kingdom gives aid to foreigners while our commoners, our people, live as second-class citizens, living hand-to-mouth and at the mercy of the class that rules us?"
Neither of them responded but Draco took a step forward from behind Ron.
Lord Voldemort cast his eyes between them and continued, "Our kingdom should come first. We shouldn't intermix with foreigners when our own people could use a step up."
"Is that why you've been banished?" Draco asked, Ron looked at him in alarm and echoed the word "banished" silently, turning a questioning look to Draco. But Draco wasn't looking at her. He only had eyes for Lord Voldemort.
Lord Voldemort smiled, a sad upturn of his thin, gray lips. "People fear what they cannot control." He drew out something that Ron couldn't see in the dimly lit room - it looked like a short walking stick? - but all of a sudden, the atmosphere in the room changed. Heaviness pressed on her heart and she felt like all of the joy in the world was being sucked out of her.
Ron pulled at Draco's arm. "I don't like this. Let's go."
"But Ron-"
"No." She moved to pull him away and as Draco reluctantly came with her, the piercing parting whisper of Lord Voldemort haunted her dreams for many nights to come.
"She will never understand."
The thirteen year old girls Harryglimpsed at court were lovely. All stammering blushes and shyness. Prince Harrythis. Prince Harrythat. Pastel pink lips curled in appreciation of what looked like to be a growth spurt - finally. He hoped he grew taller than Neville. Ron looked like an angry carrot. A loud, angry carrot in a sea of appreciative peonies.
"Hey boys, wait up!" she yelled, chasing after them.
Ron may be fast for a furious vegetable, but Harryand the boys knew the forest like the back of their hand. Dean was the furthest ahead, carrying the wolf pup that they knew they'd have confiscated if they were caught. Nevillefollowed close behind, bounding over roots and fallen tree trunks with an ease similar to Harry's favourite hunting dogs. seamus brought up the rear, tailing the marauding party. Harryhalted for a moment to wait for him. seamus caught up, puffing and with his nose running slightly. Harryhanded him a handkerchief and gestured to the path where the other two had gone. seamus nodded, thankful, and took the shortcut, splitting up as previously decided so Ron wouldn't be able to trail them (and dob on them).
Harrypaused to take a swig of water from the knapsack that he brought but then he heard her yell again and was alarmed by the close proximity of her voice. He hurriedly put the water canteen back and started to run, only to trip over a root in a spectacular fashion and land, bottom first onto the forest ground. Maybe if he stayed very still Ron wouldn't notice him.
But an angry carrot head soon blocked his periphery.
"Why are you running away from me?" she asked, not even slightly out of breath.
"No girls allowed?" he offered sheepishly, grinning up at her.
She groaned in frustration and kicked a nearby tree at the same time. The tree rattled ominously before a creaking sound caused them to both look up.
A while later, long after Ron had given up on screaming for help after being trapped by a fallen tree branch with an unconscious Harry, the rest of Harry's friends walked by. She was wondering how good of a friend any of them really were if they really ran off without him. She looked at them begrudgingly. Nevillehad a frantic look about him when he saw Harry's closed eyes and was about to rush to him when Dean stopped him to direct the three of them to remove the tree from Ron first. Dean usually was the most sensible of Harry's friends, she decided. She was very grateful for him right now. seamus did what the rest of them did, just as he normally does. Together, the three bent down to use their back muscles, and shifted the fallen tree branch enough for Ron to break free.
'Thank you,' she nodded at the boys then her eyes were caught by Harry's prone form on the forest floor. She hovered uncertainly above him, kneeling down to press her ear against his open mouth and confirm that she hadn't accidentally killed the Crown Prince in a fit of rage and because of a stupid, old, crumbly tree. She felt something wet press against her cheek and with a cry of disgust leaped up only to see Harry's grinning face.
Nevillelaughed uproariously and Harryquipped, 'If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask."
Ron didn't even dignify that with a response. She just turned around and hobbled back towards the castle. The summer could not end soon enough.
Card games were all the rage throughout the youth in Harry's kingdom. Him and Nevillehad spent an afternoon painstakingly teaching Ron the rules of their most popular game, bringing it over to the new continent. On the table between them lay a silver bracelet from Ron, a ruby heirloom ring from Nevilleand Harry's stag pocket watch. She had raised an eyebrow at him when he put that on the table. He shrugged, nonchalant. She had given it to him when they were babies. It wouldn't be the end of the world if she won it back. Though he would probably have to ask her to keep it hidden from her parents and his parents in case any of them ever found out it was no longer in his possession.
During the game play, Harrywas staring at Ron's face - trying to figure out her tell when she matched his bet. A particularly sharp poke elicited a startled yelp from Harry. Nevillegrinned and whispered into his ear, 'I think you really sort of like her, fess up.'
Nevillethen put his cards down on the table, folding.
Ron raised an eyebrow delicately from behind the pair of cards in her hand.
'I'd like her better if she'd lose at cards.' Harrymuttered back.
Winning was all about probability. The cards currently on the table were good for him. Pretty good for him. She had to be bluffing this time. 'A seven and a ten.' Harrydeclared, flashing his cards - it was the moment of truth.
'I think I've won again.' She almost sang, revealing two aces.
Nevillelooked towards Harry- having folded last round without any qualms and laughed, 'Every time she's won.'
Harrylooked between his best friend and this girl his parents kept foisting his company on. So what if her new updo was starting to generate unpleasant tingly feelings in his stomach. Something about her exposed neck and brea - ugh. No. He couldn't finish that. It'd be a betrayal to his child self to attach anything remotely attractive to Princess Ron.
Ron laughed and handed their precious heirlooms back to them. Harryopened his mouth to protest as she did so but he felt Nevillekick him under the table. Nevillequickly slipped the Longbottom family ring back onto his finger, smiling innocently and begrudgingly Harrytook back his pocket watch. Great, now in addition to being inferior at cards he was also now a charity case. Aloud, he complained, 'This isn't my idea of fun.'
When Ron saw the first red spot on her arm, she thought nothing of it. It was almost summer-time, the mosquitoes were out and she had always been very attractive to them. When the next few appeared, she resolved to no longer go outdoors. Mosquitoes could feast elsewhere. When they were starting to look less like isolated incidents and more like a connect-the-dots picture she realised with horror her childhood wish of getting chickenpox in the summer was happening. Her sister expressed sympathy that Ron's complexion would be ruined by scars from chickenpox but Ron poked her tongue out in response. She hated being valued by her 'beauty.' Her body was lithe from training, and she looked like her mother. Beauty wasn't anything she'd ever done or deserved and she hated how much value people she met placed on it, how it was their go-to when greeting her or meeting her for the first time. Didn't they know that she could hit an apple on top of someone's head thirty feet away? That her mind was sharper than a squire's steel blade? They would never find out because nobody cared to ask. It made her grumpy.
In any case, this summer was Prince Harry's turn and she wouldn't be able to sail to his kingdom in this contagious condition. Her parents would have to go without her. God did answer prayers.
After the itchy week of hell subsided, Ron made the most of her summer. She hung out in the library (with no Draco who was really busy these days for some reason), pestered Petunia, wrote letters to her parents who went per usual on their usual trip to his kingdom and even wrote a scathing reply to that dumb Prince Harrywho dared to enquire after her health and express the false sentiment of missing her. She could just see Queen Euphemia leaning over his shoulder as he dutifully wrote polite lies to mock her. Queen Euphemia would probably think he was being sweet - that was the worst part. So she wrote back,
Dear Prince Harry
I am well enough without you. The only thing I miss about you is besting you all the time. I suppose I will have to relive my track record of success during my fond absence from your presence.
Don't you dare show this to Queen Euphemia.
Ron
But then he wrote again,
Dear Princess Ron
I'm glad to see you are in good spirits and health and reliving our time together often. I knew you'd miss me too. Don't get too complacent. I have grown even taller this year and expect to be able to show you what's what next summer.
Also, I would never let my mother read my letters!
Harry
When she got his letter, she started waking up a little earlier every day to work on her archery (much to Petunia's dismay as Ron would trample into the breakfast room a hot mess after practice). She would not be beaten. Summer stretched on for a long time this year. This was her first summer since before she could remember that had been distinctively Harry-less. Summer did drag on somehow without his annoying head to deflate. In spite of herself, she found herself writing back to him.
Dear Prince Harry
All the height in the world won't matter one whit when you come crashing down at my knees in all your ungainly glory.
Ron
The normal week seemed to drag by while she found herself waiting for his reply.
Dear Princess Ron
What can I say? I can't help falling for you.
Harry
Ron read and reread the last three words of his very short letter in his admittedly beautiful penmanship. The first time she read it was the worst time. A confession?! Where had this come from? She was very alarmed. She cast her mind back to whatever it was she wrote, wondering where she had led him on. Wasn't she talking about how he could never beat her no matter how tall he grew? He'd be at her knees - oh. Oh. He meant this in jest. Surely he meant this in jest. She collapsed onto her bed, ignoring the voice in her head that sounded like Petunia scolding her for doing so with her training clothes and shoes on. And idly wondering why if it was only a joke that her heart was beating so loudly and insistently. She read the letter many more times before deigning to pick up a quill and reply. But his loopy scrawl revealed to her no more secrets between its first and its hundredth careful study of it. The parchment now lay completely flat with the amount of unscrolling it went through as she reread those words. She knew she was being ridiculous. Remembering how flirtatious he had been with the ladies at his court, with her present in the very room too, she tried to quash any feelings that accompanied the thought that he could be being sincere. Because he couldn't be. He just liked attention. Right? She replied.
Dear Harry
You'll have to wait for next summer.
Ron
Then he replied.
Dear Ron
The seasons cannot pass quickly enough.
Harry
When the King and Queen returned from their visit abroad, Ron surprised them by pestering them with questions about her betrothed. How is Prince Harrydoing? How is his cat? Would you say he's taller than me now? Okay, but would you say he's taller than you right now, father? Are the court ladies still hanging on to his every word? Why am I asking all this? Oh, no reason at all! She had laughed merrily.
King Henry and Queen Grace sat down with Ron. Her father spoke first. 'You know, my dear, I know you haven't gotten along with Harryand the betrothal happened so long ago. We can always end-'
'No!' Ron interrupted them.
They exchanged puzzled looks with each other. Ron spent all year complaining about having to travel there this summer. She was absolutely delighted to realise she had chickenpox and would no longer be coming. She was sixteen this year. Had been old enough to know her own mind for a while now. And though the marriage would be politically advantageous, their daughter would always come first. They waited for her to continue, and when it didn't look like she had more to say, Queen Grace prompted her. 'No?'
'Not… yet?' ventured Ron. 'Harryis…'
Queen Grace raised an eyebrow at his name being mentioned without being prefixed by his honorific title or affixed with a creative insult.
'... maybe not so bad,' she continued, her cheeks going tell-tale red.
King Henry laughed at his daughter. 'Prince Harryis maybe not so bad. What mighty praise from his blushing intended.'
She just harrumphed her way back to her chambers in response.
Harrylet himself into his father's study. King Fleamont was poring over a map of their neighboring kingdom, Ron's kingdom and studying the forest beside it. The king looked up as Harryentered and beckoned him to join him.
'Somewhere in this forest,' he indicated, 'lies a growing threat of people unhappy about the alliance between our kingdom and that of your betrothed.'
'What?' asked Harry. 'This is the first I've heard of it.'
'It's the first anyone has heard of it. It's just a rumour at the moment. Something to do with anti-royalists in Queen Grace and King Henry's kingdom gaining favour with the anti-foreigner movement. Anti-us movement.'
'I thought Voldemort had been dealt with.'
'He was banished.' His Father said grimly. 'King Henry is too kind. He doesn't execute his criminals. I don't know what has rekindled this seed of discord. Voldemort is dangerous. He claims he only wants to free the people but his vision of freedom means complete anarchy. If his plans succeed, it will mean thousands of deaths and widespread starvation. He says no-royals but what he means to put in its place is a reign of terror and enslavement.'
King Fleamont sat back down on his chair, exhausted. He buried his face in his hands, the weight of his worries and the desire to protect his kingdom bearing down on him. Harrywent to his side and placed a comforting hand on his father's shoulder.
'Don't worry, Father. Voldemort is not here. Our guards know him on sight and retribution will be meted out for his killing of my grandfather should he ever step foot on our soil.' He shot his father a smile.
His father heaved a big sigh. 'We need to stay vigilant.'
'And we will!' Harryagreed. He added, 'Ron means the world to me. I won't let mere whispers of threats hinder our union and the forging of a bond between our countries. Despite what people like Voldemort think, we'll be stronger together.'
King Fleamont nodded. 'Your mother is a remarkably wise woman. To have foreseen the need for this alliance so many years ago.'
Shifting his feet awkwardly, Harrysaid, 'Speaking of remarkably wise women. I actually came here to ask you for some advice.'
'Letter-writing go as you hoped?' King Fleamont enquired, already looped in with Harry's letter-writing attempts.
'Kind of?' Harry's response was also a question. 'I did what you said to do. Just be forward with how I'm feeling. See how she takes it. But she's being so ambiguous I can't figure it out! I turned to Nevillewho just laughed at me. I can't turn to mother now. I'm looking for some sympathy, not a lecture on my years of bad manners.'
King Fleamont looked contemplative.
'Just make sure she knows you're on her side. And respect her decisions. Marriage is an equal partnership after all.'
Harrynodded seriously, already preparing to write it down to remember it by later. He grinned and saluted his father on his way out. 'Thanks father!'
King Fleamont chuckled to himself. Harryreminded him so much of himself when he was younger.
Summer finally came and with it, Prince Harry. She didn't know what to say to him anymore. Petunia rolled her eyes at her antics but he was right about one over the letters. He had grown. Not just taller. He had grown up. Harrywas broader, his dark hair cut short to hide the disarming curls from childhood. His voice was deeper and his eyes seemed to linger on her wherever she went. Her sister was all, wear a pretty dress and take a turn about the gardens with him but Ron felt so much more comfortable in the stables, or in the training yard. So much more comfortable in slacks than skirts. And so much more comfortable without his penetrating gaze searching her out. She wasn't going to avoid him forever. Just, for, a little bit. Until she could sort herself out and not turn red in his proximity.
One morning, Ron walked over to the training yard at her castle for her usual morning exercises and archery training when she realised there was a crowd that had already gathered. The squires, even the swordmaster stood unmoving and as she pushed her way to the front of the crowd, Two Familiar hot-heads one was black-haired and another was blond-hair were swinging at each other, swords discarded in the fray.
The crowd probably wasn't reacting because Prince Harrywas one of the hotheads. She grimaced as said prince landed a punch squarely in Draco's stomach, and Draco doubled up in pain. Harrykicked him down to the floor and seemed ready to clamber on top of him and continue the walloping.
'Harry, leave him alone!' Ron called out, distressed.
Harrystopped at the sound of her voice and looked at her incredulously. 'He started it!'
'You should know better than to engage!' she snapped back at him.
Draco collected phlegm at the base of his throat and spat it out at Harrywho looked disgusted and got off him. 'Don't interfere, you spoiled entitled brat!' Draco yelled at her.
Ron was shocked. 'What?' she dumbly said.
Harrywhirled around to Malfoy, outrage evident in his tone. 'Apologise to Princess Ron! Apologise this instant!' He commanded, his regal upbringing demanding a response.
Draco looked down, avoiding her eyes.
'Draco?' she called out softly. She knew he had been distant lately, like he was avoiding her. When he point-blank asked her to stop spending time with Harryin the summer a few months ago she had shrugged helplessly. She was a Princess. They were betrothed for heaven's sake. What could she do? Draco' response: 'Lord Voldemort knows a way' wasn't what she was expecting. She remembered the chill she felt at the back of her neck when they first met Voldemort four years ago. 'You're not still talking to him are you?' she had whispered back, horrified. Draco shook his head quickly, a little too quickly. He had been avoiding her since then. It'd been years and they'd only grown more distant. Petunia only sniffed when Ron confided in her that Draco was avoiding her. She didn't say it but Ron could tell how Petunia felt about it - good riddance. Even her parents looked a little relieved when they saw her associating less with her dark shadow. Nobody was on her side about him. But he couldn't, he didn't mean that. They'd been best friends for years. She blinked forcefully, willing tears not to spill onto her cheeks as she repeated his name. He didn't really think that of her, could he? She repeated his name.
Draco straightened up, dusting the dust off his clothes. He refused to look at her. 'I can't do it anymore. Goodbye, Ron.'
A few days later, she overheard her parents talk in hushed tones about how Lord Voldemort had been seen skulking about on castle grounds, breaching his banishment. She was disappointed, but not surprised.
The next day, in the training yard, Harrysought her out to apologise for his behaviour with Draco the day before. She wasn't expecting him to do so but the fact that he did was starting to fit in with the reformed image she had of him. She accepted the apology and then he smiled at her in such obvious relief at her acceptance - his expression so open and joyful on his serious, angular face - that the unbidden thought that his smile was attractive filtered through her brain.
Prince Harrybent down in an elegant bow, taking hold of one of her coarse hands and pressing a kiss onto it. 'Princess Ron, you are too kind.'
Ron absolutely did not blush. Instead a strangled noise escaped her throat much to her own mortification. He laughed, not unkindly.
'I haven't seen you around much this summer, Princess.'
'I've been training.'
'I see that.' He was still holding her hand and with his thumb he traced the callouses on her palm.
She gulped but did not remove her hand from his. 'I won't hide anymore. I promise.'
Emboldened by her reaction, he leaned forward, his face mere inches from hers. But Ron panicked, jerking away and breaking whatever undercurrent had been humming between them.
Smoothly, he straightened up and gently let go of her hand. 'Well then, I'll see you around, Princess Ron.' He smiled at her as he headed out of the training yard.
They did indeed see each other a lot the rest of the summer. And he was nothing but the picture of perfect manners the whole time. They met at meal times, in groups and unexpectedly in corridors sometimes. He would smile, bow and continue on his merry way.
She didn't know what she'd do with a distantly polite Harry. And all too soon the opportunity to do anything about it seemed to slip away as the summer air cooled and the leaves started to fall. All too soon, it was time for the royal family to depart back for their own kingdom. Next year she would turn 18. It would be the year to confirm the betrothal and arrange the marriage. But she watched helplessly as he walked along the docking board to his ship, hopes yet unrealised and words yet unspoken on her lips.
As Harrylay in his bed in the cabin of a gently rocking ship on his way home from Ron's kingdom, he pondered on the fact that this was probably going to be the last time he took this journey alone. Because either she came back with him as his bride and queen or… they were neighbors, their mothers were best friends, but he didn't think he could spend so much time with a woman who snuck into his heart like a thief in the night and now held it hostage.
He stared dolefully up at the wooden roof above him, contemplating how this princess had somehow taken hold of his affections. When had he even started liking her? His mother reckoned it was from the very beginning, when she first beat him at swordplay when they were kids. Queen Euphemia had laughed delightedly when she heard of the event from Neville- the absolute dog - because he was sick of hearing Harrycomplain about it. His mother had pet his head and said not being able to get her out of his head was the first step to falling in love. His mother wasn't wrong.
Sighing, he pushed himself up to a seated position on his bed and noticed the yellowing parchment of a crudely drawn picture of Ron. Red hair in attempted pigtails with her eyes boggling out, arrows dotting the parchment where he had used it for target practice many years ago. He laughed at himself, embarrassed by his earlier antics and got up to remove the arrows. The arrows left puncture marks in the picture and eventually he scrunched up the unflattering portrait anyway to throw in his wastebasket.
Why were matters of the heart so complicated? He had almost kissed her. That day in the training grounds. The moment was but that - a frozen snapshot in time. But when she jerked away from him, he knew she was not yet ready. But would she ever be ready? They had one summer left before he turned eighteen and became of age. He would be expected to marry very shortly. He couldn't imagine anyone else being by his side but Ron. For so long, she had been all that he had known and all that he dreamt of.
He decided then and there that he would make the most of his last shot. Yes, they were betrothed, but he knew that if she wanted to, both parties would call off the engagement. And she deserved better than a marriage out of obligation or convenience. He wanted to court her properly. And, as the deadline of her eighteenth birthday when they were supposed to make the announcement, and his own coronation for which he needed a queen, he only had one last summer to do it. With a new resolve and a cheeky grin reminiscent of his younger days, he decided he would be so good, they'd call him Prince Charming. She wouldn't be able to resist!
Princess Ron was really glad it was summer again. This year, Prince Harrywas polite as before, but not so formal. His childish brand of humour was back, and in fact probably worse than usual because his mates, the Marauders as they called themselves, tagged along this year at her parent's invitation to her birthday celebration. But this year, when he was fooling around with his friends, his grin often turned to include her as well.
The summer started with a bang. Harryhad brought her lilies from his kingdom that he'd meticulously kept alive on the journey only for Petunia to remark offhandedly, 'Ron doesn't like receiving lilies. She thinks they're trite.'
Ron was horrified at her sister outing her in front of Harry's kind gesture.
But he took it in stride, and the next day he presented a new bouquet of flowers. 'With not a Ron in sight but a whole bunch of petunias,' he winked as he gave them to her. She blushed, giggled, felt like one of those moronic court ladies who simpered and sighed at his every move and tried to compose herself. She got out a 'thank you,' and he grinned, bowed and then left her to admire the bouquet.
A few weeks later, she had ducked into the kitchen to grab a packed lunch for a horse-ride when she noticed all the kitchen staff were gone. She ventured further into the kitchen, looking for someone when she found them all surrounding what looked like a flour covered Crown Prince in the middle of a table. Next to him, a baked monstrosity of icing and cream. When she walked in, he froze guiltily, his icing-covered finger on the way to his open mouth. 'Princess Ron!' he yelled out and the staff around him jumped in surprise and as one they moved to stand in front of the cake, blocking it from her view. He took his glasses off and wiped the flour off of it onto his shirt. 'What are you doing here?'
'This is my castle. What are you doing in the kitchen?'
'It's ah - a surprise.'
A raised eyebrow was her only response.
'I'm sorry for commandeering your staff though. They have proven exceptionally helpful and I am very grateful.' He grinned and Winky, the sous chef, smiled in delight. Even old Kreacher the head chef cracked a smile at the Crown Prince's enthusiasm.
'I'll leave you to it then?'
He bowed just before she turned to leave.
When she came back from her ride, back in her chambers was a cake of a much smaller proportion than the one she glimpsed in the kitchen earlier. Next to it was a note in handwriting only familiar because of how often she had studied it that one summer she had chickenpox. The note said, 'Surprise!'
She smiled fondly at the little cake. When she took her first bite, she almost moaned with pleasure - it was that good. The cooks had helped him indeed. She didn't know who he must've bribed to find out the recipe for her favourite kind of carrot cake but she was very glad that he did.
At the end of summer, the day before Ron's birthday and two days before Harrywas set to leave, at seamus's suggestion of an outing, they all went horse riding together. Her sister, the Crown Princess Petunia frowned when Ron first appeared in riding pants to meet them and it was with a sigh that she went back to change into an uncomfortable riding skirt and resigned herself to only riding side saddle. With her limited pace, Harryhad let Nevilleand seamus rush off ahead so he could talk to her. Petunia trailed off even further behind, Dean keeping her company. Harrysaid that in his kingdom, women didn't need to wear skirts or ride side-saddle if they didn't want to - the expectation was not there, not even for nobility.
She grinned up at him, and after surreptitiously checking behind her to make sure that her sister wasn't watching, she flung her skirt up to swing her leg around her stallion. She nodded towards the open meadow in the distance. When he smiled back, accepting her unspoken challenge they let out whoops of joy as their horses' hoofbeats thundered into the ground.
From the meadow, Prince Harrysurveyed the expanse of forest that abutted her castle. In the heat of summer, the forest was teeming with life and light, green foliage intermingling with the flowers blooming late.
He commented, 'Your kingdom is beautiful, Princess Ron. Would you miss it?'
The words 'if you left it for mine' were left unspoken but she felt the weight of them there nonetheless.
'Yes,' she replied quietly. 'It would be hard to forsake my kingdom. My home. I roam these halls and these hills wondering if this is going to be my last time.'
He didn't reply to that and she turned to look at him. His profile was outlined against the forest she loved so much. Long eyelashes brushing up against his eyeglasses, dark hair which had grown out of its short haircut from a while ago and now reaching his earlobes was ruffled by their galloping pace. His hands, strong and brown, tightly gripped the reins.
'Prince Harry,' she began.
He turned to her, smiling slightly when she said his name. 'Yes?'
'I -' she broke off and he smiled obligingly, waiting for her to continue. 'I do.'
He looked confused.
'I do want to marry you' she clarified. 'I know we've never spoken of it to each other before, because it was always kind of assumed. But tomorrow is my birthday and I wanted you to know. I think I can give up my lands and my family. I think I can if it means I can be with you.'
'Ron,' he said her name and her heart sang at the familiarity. She loved hearing her name without its title. He opened his mouth to continue but was cut off by Nevillewho hollered as he galloped through the meadow, tearing through the grass and kicking up clumps of dirt. The rest of the crew came along after, seamus trailing behind Nevilleand Dean and Petunia following after.
She slumped in her saddle as the group came together, disappointed he wouldn't get to reply in a private setting like she had hoped. But when she dismounted from her horse later that day, he was there to help her and when their hands clasped, he pressed his lips to her hand with a wink. Hope blossomed in her chest. She was looking forward to tomorrow.
Ron fanned the white dress around her, watching how the material swished around her hips. A thin line of emerald green adorned her hips like a belt and trailed down to the floor, matching the same colour which appeared on her shoulders and bringing out the green in her eyes. She'd never worn a dress so beautiful before. She hoped she wouldn't stain it. Today was the day. Her 18th birthday. Today, the King and Queen would be either announcing the date of her upcoming nuptials, or announcing the date of another ball in a month's time for Ron to have her pick from other suitors. She knew she was lucky she had that choice even, but it filled her with nerves. What if Harrydidn't want to uphold the betrothal now? All those kind gestures he'd been doing were for a gentle let down? Or something he did for every lady who caught his eye? What if he had known her for so long all feelings were strictly platonic? Butterflies flitted about in her chest as she waited for them to announce her entrance.
As she walked through the open doors, the orchestra striking up a tune her mother had worked with them to design to suit her, she held her head high and told herself she'd made her stance clear and would accept Harry's decision, no matter what.
In the middle of the grand ballroom, he was there. Awaiting her. As he smiled at her, a smile that transformed his whole face and reminded her of the antics he'd get up to when they were children, she walked up into his arms and felt like she was coming home.
The orchestra swelled and he began to lead her in a dance. With her hand in his, and one hand on his shoulder they waltzed around the ballroom, her eyes never leaving his. Their steps never faltered as she followed his lead, not needing to look down at her feet to know where to step next, not needing to think to know that she was safe in his arms.
As the music drew to a decrescendo to signal its end, Harrybegan to speak.
'Ron,' he said, addressing her by her first name. 'I would like to issue a formal apology for being unable to provide your beautiful words yesterday with a worthy reply.'
She blushed, remembering her forwardness and their steps slowed down as the last tendrils of music hung in the air.
Harrycontinued, 'I hope this answer can suffice.'
And using the hand on the small of her back, he pulled her forward and slowly, gently, bent down to kiss her. Her eyes fluttered to a close as her lips met his.
The whole ballroom burst into applause and another tune sprung up from the orchestra, an upbeat version of the waltz that played just earlier.
Eventually, they broke away from their kiss, and grinning, Harryturned to the people and commanded, 'Arrange the marriage!'
Ron heard her mother and Queen Euphemia squeal in delight and hug each other and even her sister Petunia cracked a small smile.
'Wait,' she called out.
Harryturned to her, concern evident on his fine features. 'What are we waiting for? Ron, you're beautiful!'
She smiled tightly, accepting a compliment she'd heard from a thousand people wanting to butter up the princess but never from him before. 'Thank you. But what else?'
'What else?'
'Is beauty all that matters to you?'
She heard a disapproving cough from her sister as her question rang throughout the now silent ballroom.
Harrythrew a pleading look towards his friends who remained silent. His mother prompted him, 'Yes Prince Harry, what else?'
He furrowed an eyebrow and asked in response, 'What else is there?'
Ron raised her eyebrows incredulously in response and stormed from the ballroom in a fit reminiscent of her youth. Her skirt swishing behind her as she left him standing there. Harryturned bright red as she left him a hand moving to the back of his head to mess up his hair in embarrassment.
The silence of the stunned ballroom was broken by a loud guffaw from Neville, who didn't even have the decency to hide his amusement as his cackles echoed in the cavernous space.
Harrywanted to die, right then and there.
His friends soon converged on him as the party continued without the presence of its princess.
'Oi, that was dumb.' Nevillegreeted him gruffly.
'Tell me something I don't know,' he pouted at his best friends.
Dean added, 'You should write a book: How to offend women in 5 syllables or less.'
Harrygrimaced.
seamus patted his shoulder. 'I know you didn't mean it. She'll come around. She just needs time to cool off.'
Harrylooked at the door she had exited from. Today was the last day, he thought helplessly. They were leaving tomorrow. He decided that seamus was right and he'd write her a letter. A letter filled with an alphabet of the reasons he loved her, the reasons they didn't need to wait any longer to be together. Determined not to give up, he left the revelers alone to their party, already composing his first draft of Ron's letter in his head.
At breakfast the next morning, Ron walked into their breakfast wing like the living dead, eyes red-rimmed and heavy from not sleeping well the night before.
Petunia looked up as she entered the room. 'Good to know the pining is mutual then. You should've seen his face when you left him stranded there.'
Ron didn't dignify that with a response. King Henry and Queen Grace wisely kept silent and waited for Ron's eventual outburst.
The sullen morning scene repeated for almost a week until Ron cracked.
'I feel so bad!' it began. 'I was so upset at first, because I thought … I thought I meant more to him than that.'
'And?' King Henry prompted.
'And my response was totally disproportionate. It was childish.'
She groaned and sank into a chair. Queen Grace got up and embraced her from her behind, leaning over her chair to give her a hug.
'Oh, Ron. I'm sure he knows you didn't mean it,' Queen Grace comforted her daughter.
'And anyway a successful marriage is all about communication. You can work through this.' King Henry smiled encouragingly.
Ron took hope at that.
A brisk knock at the door interrupted the family scene. A messenger hurried in, a harried expression on his face.
'Your Royal Highnesses,' he addressed the whole family. 'It is with regret that I must inform you of this terrible news most urgently. Queen Euphemia and King Fleamont's party were ambushed. It was Voldemort. He left his mark.'
'Euphemia and Fleamont?' echoed Queen Grace, horrified.
'Voldemort?' echoed King Henry, his lips whitening.
'And the prince?!' demanded Ron.
'Prince Harry's body was the only body missing from the royal party. Their surviving guard died as he passed this to the castle guard.' The messenger put his hand out in front of him and unclenched his fist. Prince Harry's stag pocket watch dangled from his fingers.
Ron forced her body to move towards the messenger's outstretched hands. Her frozen fingers unfurled to hold the pocket watch. Her world came crashing down. No. She shook her head, in disbelief. No.
Neville had heard the news with disbelief. Nobody knew of their plans to move the royal family through the forest instead of their usual boat route. Not even their host kingdom knew as the royal family made a show of heading towards the port per usual. It was a lot slower going than travel by water but they were taking precautions because rumour had it that Voldemort was on the rise. Somehow they had still fallen into his trap. Ron's kingdom had been in mourning for the loss of their friends and neighbours for months. They had enlisted their entire army in a manhunt for Voldemort and placed the shell-shocked princesses into lockdown. They swore to defend their friend's kingdom with equal fervor as their own while the issue of heir apparent was wrestled with. They wanted to send troops to help with civil unrest but it was eventually decided that that would be unwise. The situation looked grim, with King Henry and Queen Grace even considered the culprits by some back home. Somehow the news of Princess Ron leaving Harryon the ballroom floor had made its way around and grown catastrophically more ludicrous with each retelling. But he knew Harry, and all those summers he'd spent with the Princess meant he knew her too. They were stupid hotheads. Harrywas ridiculous and Princess Ron was stubborn. And nobody who knew them could really express any surprise at the events of the ball. But he had an inside look. He suspected the princess cared greatly for Harry. And he'd been on the receiving end of Harrywaxing poetic about Princess Ron and her long, auburn hair for years now. Ron's kingdom wasn't complicit in any of this. Their only crime was not executing Voldemort when they had a chance. A weight bearing heavily on King Henry's shoulders as Nevillesaw from afar.
Angrily, he stormed his way to the training grounds at the crack of dawn - ready to get some solo practice in before seamus and Dean joined him. The Marauders had been looking in the library every day in the daylight for any clues regarding what the dying soldier said about Voldemort and his mark - a horrific apparition of a skull made up of green smoke that hung in the air and signified a killing. But for now, he had a date with his broadsword.
He couldn't accept that Harrywas gone.
When he swung open the door, he heard grunting and the sound of quick footwork and realised that somebody had beat him to the training grounds. By the looks of the arrows in the practice dummies, they had been here a while, training in near darkness.
He was surprised when he caught a flicker of long red hair in the training room. It was Princess Ron.
He picked up a bow from the armoury and strode into the room, greeting her with a nod as he approached her.
'Care to join me?' she asked and Nevilleagreed, notching an arrow into his bow. As one their arrows soared across the room towards the practice dummies. With a thud, his embedded in the chest of one of the dummies. Her arrow shot through an eye. He let out a wolf whistle of appreciation at her marksmanship. She shrugged.
'Best 2 out of 3?' she asked him as she notched another arrow.
She outshot him every time.
Dean shut another dusty tome with frustration and almost coughed as the dust blew into his face.
'No luck either?' Nevilleasked him.
Dean shook his head.
They had been looking for anything to do with Voldemort for months now. When Ron had traced the steps she had taken with Draco long ago to show them where she first met Voldemort they had been excited. But it was a dead end. There was nothing there but dust. Where could he be? How did his witchcraft work? How could they defend themselves from it? And the question that motivated them all the most but nobody dared muttered aloud: could Harrystill be alive?
This day was different. seamus caught everyone's attention by running through the shelves and exclaiming he found it. 'It is magic,' he said, and then he looked scared, pushing the book he found away from him.
Ron picked it up and read about how some people could learn to perform magic using the medium of a wand - a specially carved piece of wood acting as a channel to unleash great magical power. Magic could be used to create, to change and to destroy. Most wands were created from oak trees - and the north part of her forest, the part towards the border of the kingdoms was full of them. They decided that would be the best place to start looking for Harry.
Dean looked determined, 'It's already been months since the attack. We'll leave tomorrow. At dawn.'
Nevillenoticed Ron's hesitation. 'You could come with us, you know.'
'I can't,' she replied, fretfully, knowing her parents wouldn't approve of her attending such a dangerous and possibly suicidal rescue mission.
Nevilleshrugged. 'Well, the offer is there.'
That night, she went to her parents' chambers, seeking comfort. Her mother stroked her hair, 'Ron, your sister will take over the kingdom after we die. But you know, you have always known that we need you to marry. To strengthen our alliances with other kingdoms. You're 18 years old now. It is time.'
Ron was shocked and upset and hurt.
'It breaks my heart too,' King Henry father added. 'But we have to face facts. Prince Harryis gone. It has been delayed out of respect for our dearly departed friends. But in a week, plans will resume and we shall host the ball from which you may pick your new intended.'
Ron pressed her lips together, determined not to let the sobs that were threatening to spill out of her escape. He couldn't be gone. She would feel it in his heart if he really had gone. She remembered the Marauder's plans to leave the next day. Guilt followed her as she left a note in her bedroom for her parents and shimmied out of her castle window to avoid the guards at her door, on duty ever since the assassination.
But when dawn broke over her castle, the Marauders weren't surprised to see Ron, dressed in trousers with her archery set hanging on her shoulder and waiting for them at the stables.
'Let's go,' she said, a hard edge in her voice and a fiery resolve in her vivid green eyes.
They had been in the forest for days. Each day they split up to search in a different direction and met back where they had set up camp to report their progress. Each day they returned, shoulders dejected at another day of fruitless searching. Magic was hard to recognise if you didn't quite know what you were looking for.
It was on the fifth day of hunting that Ron happened upon a magnificent stag. His proud antlers glinted in the sunlight. Remembering magic's power to change, she regarded the stag warily. The stag pawed at the ground, shaking its heavy antlers. She carefully drew out her bow and arrow and as it bolted she gave chase. The sun chased them both across the sky as she ran after the stag, keeping pace as best she could.
She ran through a stream, her boots splashing in the water as she kept her bow at eye level. She followed it and when the sun was nearly set, the stag ground to a halt in a meadow and stopped to gaze majestically back at her. Cautious because of its acknowledgment of her, she paused to widen her stance, knowing she had a clear shot. Taking a steadying breath as she notched the arrow into place, before her eyes the moonlight above filtered through the meadow and bright blue-white lights appeared and swirled around the stag, lifting it into the air.
Warily, she aimed her bow higher. She knew there was something different about this stag. As the lights flared she closed her eyes for a second and the familiar figure awaiting her made her take a startled breath. She dropped her weapon immediately and ran.
It was Prince Harry.
He caught her as she jumped towards him, engulfing her with his arms.
'I was really worried for a second there that you'd shoot me,' he admitted against her hair.
Ron laughed in response, almost sobbing with relief that she didn't. 'You moved pretty fast as a stag. Faster than normal I daresay.' She looked up into his familiar hazel eyes. 'I knew it, I knew you hadn't died. I knew you'd be alright.'
'I've been looking for you. Every day, when the sun rises and I sink down onto four hooves, every night when my body transforms into my human shape, I have looked for you, my princess.'
Her lip trembled in response.
'Your forest is very large.'
She laughed again. But then Harrysuddenly looked around, cautious and inviting her to quieten with a finger to her lips.
He whispered, urgently, 'Draco is here. He is working with Voldemort. You can't stay long, Ron. You have to go.'
Ron panicked, 'But when will I see you again? There's a ball tomorrow night. Can you come?' she gestured towards the night sky, tracing four stars that made a kite formation. Then she pointed out a fifth star within the kite and traced where it met the head of the kite. 'Follow that star. That's the way to the castle.'
'I wouldn't miss it for the world.' He nodded fervently. 'Now go, Ron! Before they find you!'
She stepped away, only to step back. 'But Harry, what about your transformation?'
He closed his eyes to recite something, muttering it quickly under his breath:
'Truth lies beneath the gentlest touch
Two halves to make a whole
This wicked curse can only break
When no doubt lingers in the soul.'
'What is that?' she asked.
'I don't know! I found it when I was snooping around the other night. I think it's the key to my curse.'
'But how?'
The sound of footsteps echoed in the clearing. 'Ron please. Please go. I'll fend them off if I have to. Please don't let them take you too.'
She tore herself away from him. 'I love you,' she whispered. Then she ran. Harrybreathed a sigh of relief as he watched her retreating figure blend in with the shadows of the night.
A moment later, a twig snapped as Draco Malfoy stepped into the clearing.
'How was being a stag today, Harry?' Draco sneered, taking especial delight in calling the Crown Prince by his first name.
Harrymade no reply. He wouldn't give Draco the satisfaction. They'd killed his parents. Voldemort had killed his grandfather too. All for a grudge against his kingdom, no matter what Voldemort claimed. He knew Voldemort hated his kingdom and hated the idea of their kingdoms uniting to stomp out his growing insurgency. Harrycould only suspect the lies that had been mixed up with half-truths Voldemort had told Draco to lure him out here.
'Let me guess.' Draco ran his hand through his Blond hair. 'Better than your usual life as a poncey pansy prince,' he jeered.
Harrystepped up to Draco, and they locked eyes. 'I beat you up once, Ferret, and I'm pretty sure I could do it again.'
Draco lifted his arm, and Harrybraced himself to deflect a punch when instead Draco lightly touched his shoulder. With horror, Harryrealised that Draco had picked up from his clothes a long strand of bright red hair.
With the loud bang that followed Voldemort's instant appearances, he entered the clearing, surveying the two men and noting what Draco was clutching. His lips curved into a sardonic smile, 'This is just what I need to take the next step. The kingdom is weak, the royal fools have spread out their army thin trying to look for me. But nobody knows the forest like I do. And with this,' he gestured to the single strand of red hair, 'I can finally enchant the younger princess.'
Harry's eyes widened, 'No! No, you can't!'
Voldemort turned to face him 'Silence you fool. Weather your curse and be grateful I have not been able to crack your mind.'
Harryfell silent, face going ashen at the remembrance of his first few weeks of imprisonment when everyday Voldemort would try to break him and enslave him for his own purposes. He didn't know how magic worked, but whenever Voldemort would try, he would think of Ron and his willpower only grew. Eventually Voldemort grew tired and cursed him to bind him to this meadow.
'You wanted to see her, didn't you?' He drew out his wand and with a flick of his wrist, Harry's glasses appeared in his outstretched hand. 'Draco,' he began conversationally.
'Yes, my Lord?'
'Did you know that our beloved kingdom is throwing a ball tomorrow night? In honour of Princess Ron, yet again. With Prince Harryout of the picture, her parents are anxious for her to wed foreigner scum. The kingdom is on the edge of falling. One poised strike is all that is needed to tumble into anarchy. We cannot have them forming new alliances now. We cannot let this be.'
'Yes, my Lord,' acquiesced Draco.
Harryreacted to this information with a sharp intake of breath. He didn't know that was the cause of the ball. He had to go. 'I'm not out of the picture yet!' he yelled out. 'I will go. And you cannot stop me!' he declared furiously, his hands clenched into fists.
Voldemort only laughed in response. A hollow sound with little mirth in it. 'Tomorrow, there is no moon. Anywhere you'll be going, you'll be going on all fours.'
Desperate, Harrymade a move to tackle Draco but with a flick of his wrist, Harry's movement was stopped. Strong cords appeared out of nowhere, tying his wrists together. Then with both hands, Voldemort gestured upwards and a wooden cage emerged from the ground, enclosing Harry.
'But just in case anything happens,' Voldemort added, almost like an afterthought. 'We'll be keeping you locked up.'
Harrysunk to the ground, and hung his head in despair.
The Marauders were kind of silent that evening. They were expecting Ron to come back and touch base with them before she returned to the castle as usual but she didn't. Nevillewasn't worried about her though. He knew she could fend for himself.
Given her absence, the next day, they decided to travel together in the direction she had gone the day before. After a while on horseback, they came across a meadow with a cage in the middle of the clearing. As the group neared the cage, they realised there was a stag caught in there.
'Hey boys, take a look at this. What a strange trap. How on earth did it get caught?' Nevilletied the horses to a tree and walked over to inspect the cage and then the animal inside it.
'Hmm. Interesting. It looks too sturdy for it to have been an accident. And there's no door. It's almost like it was built around the stag?' Dean hypothesised.
seamus followed Neville, tying his horse to his tree and walking over to inspect the stag. A guilty looking expression crossed his face and he blurted out, 'I think it's Harry.'
'What?'
Dean and Nevillesnapped their heads to turn to seamus.
'What makes you say that, seamus?' Dean prompted him.
seamus spoke, his weight shifting from one foot to the other in discomfort, 'I know… Lord Voldemort. I know his magic. You guys didn't know me much before I was adopted by Lord Pettigrew as a child. But I grew up… here. He, when he attacked Harry- the King and Queen, he asked me the route the royal carriage would be taking. I … told him. He threatened me. I knew what he could do! He had terrorised the village I grew up in. His mark appeared daily until it appeared on my doorstep. I was an orphan because of him.'
Nevillewas silent, his face white with fury.
Dean was also at a loss for words.
seamus just waited for them after his confession, even the stag was staring at him reproachfully.
Nevilledrew his broadsword, and alarmed, seamus stepped back. Nevilleadvanced and said, 'Our King and Queen died because of you! Harryis missing because of you! You committed high treason.'
seamus sank to the floor and whimpered while Dean watched on, not doing anything to intervene. 'He would've killed me!' he cried out.
'Then you should have died!' Nevilleyelled back. 'You should've died rather than betray your kingdom!'
As Nevillecontinued to advance on seamus's kneeling form, the stag rammed its antlers into the bars of its cage, rattling them all with the movement.
'Harry?' seamus called out. He was crying now, ugly tears streaming down his cheeks. He hiccuped as he pleaded, 'Don't let them kill me. Please.' He withdrew his dagger and started hacking at one of the wooden bars of the cage. When it snapped, he stepped through in between them, clambering into the cage to embrace the large creature.
Nevilleadvanced again, ready to follow seamus into the cage with his sword but Dean held a hand out to stop him. 'Don't,' he urged. 'This isn't what Harrywould want.'
seamus whimpered, still crying quietly into the fur coat of Harrythe stag and Nevillesheathed his sword angrily. Dean sighed. What could they do next?
Ron felt bad about not meeting up with the marauders before hurrying back to her castle. She hadn't realized she hadn't done their daily check-in until she had gone long past their checking point and she had been gone for a long time already that day. Her parents would be worried about her, especially with the recent assassinations. They allowed her 'excursions' into the forest because she was adamant that it was good for her. They didn't know that she went in everyday fully armed for more than shooting practice.
The next day arrived and with it, the day of the ball. She would see Harryagain! She dallied with her outfit, eventually deciding to wear the black dress, lined with red. By the time she was dressed and headed downstairs, the ball had already commenced and visitors from far and wide were in attendance. Even at the short notice, many had heard of Ron's beauty and kindness. Some had even heard of her prowess with the bow and all were eager to gain an alliance with her stalwart kingdom. All had heard about what happened to Prince Harryand his family (oh, so very tragic they said as they eyed the jewels in the Queen's crown and were awed by the grandeur of the ballroom). None were expecting it when Prince Harryarrived as the last guest to the ball.
When he stepped through those doors, she grinned as noise levels in the ballroom dropped to an eerie silence in shock. She ran up to him to embrace him and though initially he was stiff under her embrace, eventually he brought his arms around her and gently pat her back. Holding his hand, she pulled him along and handed him his pocket watch back. She gestured for the orchestra to resume their music and a song played with violin strings in a minor key echoing through the air as they danced.
'Ron, you outshine even the moon tonight.' Harrywhispered to her as they danced. He smiled at her, but it wasn't the usual grin that she was used to from him. Only one side of his lips had turned upwards to join in the smile and his resting face looked a bit more … sombre… than usual. She chalked it up to his experience being a stag during the day.
'I'm so glad you're here,' she whispered back to him, leaning forward to press a kiss on his cheek. Taking her by surprise, Harryturned his face and caught her kiss with his mouth. Then, quick as a flash, he pulled away, the kiss over.
As the dance drew to a close, with a bright smile, she made her way to her parents, arm in arm with Harry. They don't look as pleased as she thought they would.
King Henry spoke first, 'You sure, Ron? We know you've cared for him for a long time. It is unconventional but given the circumstances and your recent grief, we might be able to accept your choice even if whom you choose is not of royal blood.'
What?
Queen Grace continued, 'We just want you to be happy, Ron. And if Draco is your choice…' her mother looked a little uncomfortable as she trailed off. Ron noticed Petunia's mouth was turned upside down in silent disapproval.
Ron looked back at the person holding her hand and before her eyes their features morphed. The hair grew to reach his shoulders and took on that oily quality she knew it had. The nose lengthened and turned hookish, hazel eyes darkened to a shade so brown it was almost black. The twisted smile she was unfamiliar with on Harrylooked at home on Draco's face. The only different thing about him was that he was wearing glasses.
She wrung her hand away. 'No!' she exclaimed, stricken with panic. 'Where is Harry?'
'But Ron-' Draco started to say.
'NO!' She repeated, stepping away from him.
He looked frustrated, like it wasn't supposed to be like this.
'Where is Harry?' she repeated.
Draco replied:
'Truth lies beneath gentle touch
Two halves to make a whole
This wicked curse can only break
When no doubt lingers in the soul'
She recognised this, but he continued
'And through unfaithful lips
Trapped the soul shall be
In the shape of an animal
Never again to be free.'
He grinned as he reached the conclusion of the poem. Or spell. Or curse. Or whatever it was. Ron remembered with horror Draco masquerading as Harryand turning his head to catch her kiss on his lips. But, it couldn't be. She had thought it was Harry. She had thought it was Harry! She had to see him! And make sure that he was alright.
With a quick glance towards her parents, she turned and ran towards the stables, tearing away layers of her skirt as she went, leaving her legs unencumbered by the thick material. She grabbed her sword, swung into the saddle of her stallion and galloped into the night.
In the ballroom, her mother had collapsed. Queen Grace had lost her best friend, Queen Euphemia, and now was going to lose her daughter. King Henry was frazzled, staring in shock at Ron's hasty departure and Petunia was left alone to be the voice of reason among them. She directed the guards to chase after Ron and help her, and guards to arrest Draco but by the time they came from their post to the ballroom, Draco had already slipped away into the night.
On horseback, Ron galloped like her life depended on it, not slowing down to wait for anybody to catch up with her. She recalled the general direction where the meadow was and though it looked different in the night, she trusted her sense of orientation and hoped that it would be enough. A few hours of hard riding later, the trees thinned out into a familiar meadow and hastily, she dismounted. A stag was in the meadow, proud antlers glistening in the moonlight, standing by a piece of construction that wasn't there before. It was so dark tonight, only the stars lit the sky. But she knew that stag. She would know that stag anywhere.
As she walked towards it, she heard the twang of a bow and to her utter surprise, a familiar mousy haired boy leaped out of nowhere to take the hit. It was seamus. She cried out in surprise, running towards him to see if he was okay.
In the distance, she heard the sound of a scuffle and then she noticed the familiar silhouettes of Nevilleand Dean dragging a struggling Draco out of the forestry, flinging a bow away from him.
A loud bang resonated within the meadow and Lord Voldemort appeared, cloaked in a flowing black robe and with skin as mottled and grey as she remembered it. Ron felt chills down the back of her neck trickle down into her spine as she recognised him, but just like the first time she met him, she raised her chin in defiance, refusing to show any fear. She drew her an arrow from its notch and released the tension, her arrow flying sure.
But Voldemort only laughed and pulled out a thin stick. A wand!
And when he waved it towards Ron, Draco' yell echoed throughout the clearing, 'No, you promised! You promised Ron wouldn't be hurt!'
A jet of green light emanated from the tip of Lord Voldemort's wand and rushed towards Ron. Draco pulled out a wand of his own and Ron watched, her mind curiously distant as he waved it in the air above her, muttering unintelligible incantations. She could hear Nevilleand Dean yelling in the background and the sound of steel clashing against steel. But, suddenly, she was so tired. She wanted to close her eyes, so, so desperately. And so she did.
Harrythe stag watched the events unfold with an increasing sense of dread. He saw seamus take the arrow for him, saw Ron go down. But what could he do? He was a stupid stag!
Dean and Nevillewere fighting Voldemort at close quarters, forcing him to use a sword, not giving him enough time to pick up the wand he dropped after firing the green light that felled Ron.
Well, maybe he was a stag but he'd be damned if he did nothing.
He left seamus who had closed his eyes because of the pain of the arrow wound and leapt over to the others, trusting in his new animal senses to search desperately for a stick discarded on the floor that was a little too smooth to be normal.
When he found it, he trod on it with his hooves and heard with delight as Voldemort let out an anguished cry.
He saw Dean take the opportunity then to stab at Voldemort with his blade as Nevilleswung his broadsword at Voldemort's head.
But Voldemort ducked, wrenching himself from Dean's sword tip and panting.
Then, an arrow whistled through the clearing, and as Voldemort fell, Harrynoticed that the arrow pierced through his eye, poking out at the other end of his skull. He turned in shock and realised that Draco had done the killing blow from beside Ron's unconscious body.
Draco wiped at his face and Harrynoticed with surprise that tears lingered there.
He galloped over to Ron, who looked far too still and when Draco stepped aside he gently nuzzled her with his face. It was warm, but barely. She was breathing at a rate too slow to be normal.
Nevillewas ready to swing his sword at the one remaining threat but Draco thrust his arms up in the air, flinging his wand away from him and towards Neville's threatening sword.
'I'm unarmed!' he yelled out.
Dean went to step on the wand but Draco interrupted,
'Please! Don't! I'll need it to save Ron.'
'How?' asked Dean.
'How can we trust you?' added Neville.
Draco closed his eyes in pain. 'I know you don't know anything about me. But I love Ron. I always have. Voldemort sent me to get close to her tonight to assassinate her parents but I couldn't do it. She'd been through so much already. Please,' he begged. 'Please let me try and save her. There is a spell that might help. The promise of everlasting love can break her spell. It can break most spells. Because it is so rare.'
'Then why isn't she healed?' Nevilledemanded. 'Didn't you say you loved her?'
'I do.' Draco replied. 'But everlasting love is reciprocated. It is met measure for measure. Passion for passion. Sacrifice for sacrifice.'
Slowly, under the skeptical eyes of Nevilleand Dean, he crawled towards his wand to pick it back up. He began to wave the wand in the air. A bright luminous light started to appear from the patterns that he was drawing in the air. The symbols that Draco had traced in the air held still in the night sky and then vanished.
Harrywatched hesitatingly as Draco turned to him and with a flick of his wrist, the symbols reappeared and then rushed towards him. Light enveloped him fully and he felt himself being lifted into the air. When he came to, he was standing on two feet. Nevilleand Dean broke out into grins. And he heard seamus shout out in the distance.
Draco turned away as Harryknelt beside Ron's body.
Harrycaressed her face. Her eyes were closed, face wan in the moonlight. He noticed with bittersweet amusement that she was dressed in the attire of a ballgown, sans billowing skirt. Ron would tear up a skirt without a second thought if it hindered her movement. She would do things on her own terms, at her own pace. 'Ron,' he whispered her name softly. 'I was afraid to love you. You have always been so strong. So brave. And so kind. I was afraid that if I gave you my heart, it would crumble within your calloused grip.'
He laughed, a broken sound for there was also weeping in it.
'I was afraid that after years of teasing you, of your constant assurances that I was an arrogant, spoilt, rotten toerag that you would never be able to see that I was trying to change. That I had changed. Because of you. Because,' he wiped away a tear and realised that Dean and Nevillehad also stepped away, out of hearing of his tear-filled confession, 'when I see you Ron. My whole world stops. You are my whole life. And if you leave me now, I will never find another like you. I will never marry. I will forsake my kingdom. So please,' his voice had drawn to a whisper. 'Come back to me.' And then he closed his eyes and as he slowly pressed his lips to her too-still body he could only hope that she felt the same.
He had begun to pull away when her hand shot up to his face to pull him closer. He cried as he kissed her, her tears intermingling with her own as their lips met again and again slowly.
From a distance, Draco watched as Ron came back to life under Prince Harry's touch. He closed his eyes and felt the wind cold on his wet cheeks. He had lost everything. His mother who refused to look at him when he started to dabble in magic. His mentor whom he had betrayed twice over for the woman he loved. And the woman he loved. He had lost because she loved someone else.
He turned away and started walking deeper into the forest. One foot after the other numbly with no destination in mind.
When Harry was able to help Ron to sit up, she saw the back of Draco as he walked deeper into the forest. It would be the last time she ever saw him.
When the priest placed the crown on Harry's head on their wedding day, he waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Ron, asking across the aisle in a whisper whether the crown looked as good as his antlers did.
An unseemly laugh escaped from Ron as he did so and she almost felt Petunia's eyes narrowing in disapproval at her. She covered her mouth and took a deep breath as the priest placed a crown atop her own head.
When they stood up, standing together hand in hand, Harrylooked over at her and smiled, his whole face lighting up in happiness as he did so.
'Ron,' he whispered again, 'you are beautiful. But your beauty is not just physical.'
'No?' she arched an eyebrow, but a smile slipped out as she did so, remembering her reaction the first time he called her beautiful.
'No!' he affirmed, 'Your kindness is beautiful. Your laugh is beautiful. Your courage is beautiful. And so are your hunting skills! You're the one that found me, after all. I daresay even your stubbornness is beautiful,' he bent towards her, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her forehead. 'And I wouldn't change a thing about you.'
The priest in front of them cleared his throat and Harrystraightened, turning away from Ron to face the priest, a delightful blush spreading across his cheeks as Ron laughed again at his antics.
'And by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife, King and Queen of this kingdom.'
They grinned happily at each other.
The priest continued, 'You may now kiss the bride. And continue complimenting her. Lord knows how many more marriages would be happy if the husband threw in a compliment as heartfelt as that every day.'
Harryplaced a hand over his heart. 'I will take your advice, good priest. And by your leave, I will now kiss my wife.'
Harryplaced a hand on the back of her head, his fingertips threading their way in her soft, soft hair and tilted her face up to meet his in a kiss. Ron smiled as he did so, closing her eyes as her own hand rested on his shoulder.
They kissed until an overenthusiastic cheer from what sounded like seamus reminded them that they weren't alone. Blushing slightly, Ron laughed in embarrassment. But Harryonly grinned at her, pressing a soft kiss on the side of her mouth one last time. Together, hand in hand, they turned to look down from the balcony at the kingdom before them, certain that no matter what challenges lay ahead - they could always count on their love for each other. A love that could last even longer than forever.
