Summary: Harry and Hagrid are travelling on a cart (to which destination?). A conversation ensues.
Notes: Nothing belongs to me, except the situations and action in this story (some of it at least, not too much as of now). I'll try and keep the updates regular but since I'm at the University and I'll have a lot of work this year please bear with me if I don't post a chapter every Wednesday!
He was sitting on a cart. Harry was on a cart driven by two Gargantuan horses. From time to time, the cart jolted on the uneven lane and the horses snorted under Hagrid's and his weight.
Add to that a giant holding the reins in his big hands while joyfully whistling and Harry felt the urge to pinch himself to make sure he was not dreaming.
He had left the Dursley's estate. He was off to his kingdom, to maybe find a place he belonged to. Sheer happiness filled his heart, the bright sun warmed his skin, it was as if the world had taken a brand new hue. He shook his head, feeling his hair brush up against his cheeks, he was beginning to sound sappy, soon he'll be commenting on the trees, the sky, the flowers they pass by, their captivating smell...
'Don't lean too much or else you'll meet the ground and that's too early for a young lad like you' Hagrid's word brought him back to the lane in front of his eyes.
'That's... Thanks I guess' Harry didn't know what to say, he knew he was bound to return to the ground one day but that was quite abrupt to talk about it with an eighteenish year old.
'Oh, I was merely thinking of a joust, that's an image I like to picture, a jousting day, the horses' hooves jingling, the knights' suit of amour gleaming, rejoices the fray... The crash of iron, the clanging, rattling and the gushing of blood smearing the white sand... What a sight.' Harry's face was white as a sheet by the end of Hagrid's speech.
'Hm... Do-Do jousts happen often in the kingdom ?' His tone was more worried than he would have whished for.
'There's one for the Summer festival every year, and there are various competitions in the different seigneuries... Old Longbottom organised one not too long ago, his grandson too part in it, a clumsy and luckless lad if you ask me, I think he's your age, eh, I think you were born on the same day. ' Hagrid elbowed Harry, taking him by surprise, he almost slid down the cart.
'That's an amusing coincidence.' Harry replaced himself on the small bit of sitting he had.
'A poet doesn't believe in coincidences,what happens and what will happen is written in the world we live in, in this lane, in this sky, in this cloud, in the sun, that's what we use to think and to create.' Hagrid pointed at what he mentionned with his big finger. Probably as wide as his arm Harry thought.
'And did they tell you you would find me ?'
'Oh no, the map told me that,' Hagrid's finger tapped his left chest pocket. 'Nothing's left to chance, Harry, remember that.'
Harry looked down at his hand and a patch of jarring blue on the bottom of the cart caught his eye. Was that ?
'Hagrid, did you steal uncle Vernon's sword ?' Harry looked intently at Hagrid.
'Steal ? I borrowed it, it'll be useful for your journey.' Harry doubted that a rusty sword could be of any use. Perhaps the hideous colour of the sheath could make people flee, he'd have to give it a try. He didn't even know how to fight with a sword anyway.
'My journey ? I'm not going back to the capital city ?'
'No, no, you are leaving for an adventure, you'll rescue a princess from-'
'A princess ? What for ?' Harry chortled.
Hagrid stayed silent. 'Am-Am I to marry her ?'
'You are, she's always been your betrothed' the giant said with a stern tone which made Harry shiver, it was not like him to be so serious.
Harry sat silent for a while, he had never thought he'd be engaged to someone he didn't know, someone he didn't think even existed until a moment ago. It felt surreal. He was not sure he could handle all that was bit by bit thrown at him. Nonetheless, he decided that he would not ponder too much on this matter for now, if what Hagrid had said was true, he had a princess to recue.
'What is she like ?' Harry asked with interest.
'Who ?'Hagrid looked a Harry, his eyes shining with glee.
'The princess, what is she like ?' Harry repeated.
'Don't know, I've never beheld her, I've only heard that she's a beauty, you'll have to fight off an army of suitors.' Hagrid nodded as if agreeing to what he was saying, then said in a matter-of-fact way,' I heard the king of the Beauville Kingdom left and never returned. '
'He's dead ?' Harry felt his heart miss a beat. 'It must be pretty dangerous there then...'
'Oh, no, he's missing, that's completely different,' Hargid said and added, 'though it's highly unlikely he is still alive.' He paused, his eyes constantly shifting from the road to a space above Harry's head.
'Why is that ?' Harry asked, puzzled by Hagrid's behaviour.
'It's... Em... How to say it... There's an obstacle...'
'An obstacle, what kind of obstacle ?' Harry asked. Now Hagrid was starting to scare him.
'Well, it's a marvellous creature, the most perfect creature on earth if you ask me, you'd surely love to see one, oh, how these beasts fly... And I heard this one is as white as pearl and that its scales shine as brightly as the light of the sun...' Hagrid had a broad smile on his face, that didn't reassure Harry.'...what I'd give to see that dragon-'
Harry jumped to his feet, throwing the cart off balance, Hagrid forced the horses to halt in order not to crash into the nearest tree. Harry kept on staring at the giant disbelievingly and said in a high-pitched voice : 'A dragon ?!'
'Why, of course, you're a prince and a knight, you didn't expect to go there and have a princess welcome you with open arms !' Hagrid let go of one of the reins to lift his fist, looking triumphant, and terribly excited. Harry thought he looked like his uncle when his favourite knight had won a tourney. 'It's all about the challenge, the honour, the pride of men slaying beasts and conquering damsels!
Harry sunk down on the little patch of seat left for him to sit on, Hagrid's hand joined the one on the reins and with a little shake of his hands they were off.
They carried on their way. The only noticeable difference what that a dragon now loomed over the cart, taking away every ray of sunlight the day had, soon Harry felt that their surroundings had turned sinister. And they had only mentionned the dragon, what would happen when he would have to slay it? Harry shivered.
''Does the regent know about this... issue?' Harry asked uncertainty permeating his voice.
'Of course, he knows, he truly is the wisest, more knowledgeable person in this kingdom.' Hagrid nodded, agreeing with what he just said.
Then, why did he decide to send me in some remote land to save a princess from a prince-killing dragon?' Harry couldn't fathom why the only heir to the throne was thrown to his more than probable death, and everyone was accepting it, like it was the most logical thing in the world.
'You may be the prince, and thus a knight, but you haven't proved anything, you need to cut your teeth.'
'On dragon skin? It's more likely the dragon who will cut my flesh' Harry grumbled.
'Oh no, they don't chomp on people, they roast them, it's much more refined.' Hagrid said with his matter-of-fact tone.
'Refined. Great. Wonderful.' Harry let his head drop in his hands, he felt Hagrid's giant hand hesitantly patting him on the back, he was grateful the giant didn't use all his strength. He rubbed his eyes, blinding himself for a few seconds then sighed. Analysing what he felt, he realised that he was feeling oddly resigned.
He had lived almost eighteen years as a servant for his so called family, he had never owned anything, he had been looked down on, he had accepted all of this because he knew he would eventually leave.
Yet, he had never imagined it would be this way, on a cart, with a dragon enthusiast giant, off to save a princess... And the most surprising part was the whole royaty thing. Him, a prince ? What was princelike about him ? He had an average height, average features and average voice. He was average, nothing else, nothing out of the ordinary, except maybe for his green eyes, but even them he learned to dislike. Aunt Petunia kept on glaring at him everytime their gaze met, muttering 'green-eyed idiot' so many time that he came to believe that his eyes were indeed idiotic. Harry had wanted to ask her why she called him an idiot, but as he grew up, he realized that she was maybe not referring to him.
Harry thought about how little he knew about his parents. Would Hagrid know about them ? How were they ? Harry liked to think they smiled with their heart, not with their head, not with an air of despise as Harry had grown accustomed to. Did they have friends ? People they shared memories with, real memories, not a plain conversation around a table about how the Countess of Purplebrick did not know how to behave, can you believe that ? No, he liked to picture them roaring with laughter over the mischiefs they had done when they were younger, living wildly. Thinking about it now, it probably was not the case, since his father had been a prince...
'Hagrid, did you know my father ?' Harry finally asked.
'Oh, yes, I lived at the castle for a while, until... well, until something happened. ' He contemplated the road, then added. 'He was like a lion, free, stately, and there was this glint in his eye, it made me think of a forest fire.'
Harry stared at the passing trees. The giant's poetic way of talking was confusing to him. Was his father like a lion or like a fire ? And how was it something positive ? Lion and fire killed people. According to what he had understood of morals, if the Dursleys had had any or if what Mrs Figg had taught him could apply to something else than cats, then killing wasn't exactly noble.
'He was dangerous ?' Harry asked with concern.
'No! What makes you think this?' He suddenly realized. 'Is it because of the fire ? Oh, I hope you didn't take that literally, I was merely talking about the embers his youth cast on-'
'Alright, I understand.' Harry decided that compromise was better than confusion. 'How did my parents meet ?'
'At a ball, the king was throwing a ball for his son's fourteenth birthday, your mother and her sister came, your father was fascinated by the beauty of your mother, a single glance was enough for their blossoming love.'
Harry looked at Hagrid's face, taken aback by his broad smile and his moist eyes. Harry didn't know what to say, he looked in the distance.
'That.. Um... Must have been a poignant scene.' Great answer Harry thought, very expresive. Was he really a prince ? Prince of the fools was more like it.
'Wait, is it the ball during which aunt Petunia met uncle Vernon ?' Harry had heard everything about this ball. Aunt Petunia kept the dress she wore that day in the attic where Harry lived for a while until he was moved to a spare room next to the domestic's quarter. She could keep on talking about it for days and she had those sparkles in her small blue eyes, Harry had always found it disturbing. How could someone so unbearably mean be genuinely smiling in front of a piece of fabric? And why was she sobbing too?
'No, your mother's sister was alone in a corner of the room, jealousy was written all over her face.' Hagrid had a little smile on his lips, he really enjoyed mocking the Dursleys.
'She told everyone the story of how they met and it was during a ball thrown by the king...'
'It was after the ball actually.'
'After when ?' Harry didn't know what to expect.
'Oh, right at the end, you see, your uncle was working at the royal stables.'
Harry was surprised, he had always thought uncle Vernon had been a knight, or at least that he was noble, but none of it was true.
'Where did all their money come from then ?' He remembered the purses of golden coins regularly delivered to the estate, he had only ever seen one when Dudley had come into his room boasting about the golden coin he has stolen for his father's office. Dudley had looked at him, expecting him to be envious but truly Harry didn't care. Sure it was a nice colour. It did shine. Harry had simply no use for it and he hardly understood how currency worked at that time. This had disappointed Dudley who had run away, shouting that Harry had stolen something, again.
'From the kingdom, from your parents.' Hagrid answered.
'But, they're dead.' Harry was confused.
'They left you enough money to be at ease during your childhood, the regent sent a certain amount of money to your aunt every month... She was the queen's sister after all.' Hagrid shrugged and then frowned. 'I always knew they weren't treating you like they should, they wanted you to stay only to keep receiving free money...'
Harry wanted to say that it was probably not the case, that even if they had never loved him, they weren't that manipulative, but he knew Hagrid was right. That was the only explanation for uncle Vernon's tenacity... Knowing it left Harry empty. He didn't know how to feel, he didn't even know if he felt anything.
They both fell silent. It wasn't one of these awkward, or rather disapproving silences Harry had experienced for years at the dinner table whenever he decided to talk, but a nice, understanding silence. The wood of the cart creaked under their weight, victim to the rocks on the road. The sun was setting. Harry was tired, his mind was fuzzy, he felt as if he were in a dream. The lurchs of the cart rocked him to sleep. He hoped he was not dreaming.
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