Chapter Four: King of Kindness
Harry couldn't sleep. He'd failed nearly all his spring classes, so he was stuck in the dorms for summer school. And though his room was painted red and decorated with knotted nets, pirate wheels, and mounted fish he'd caught, it was not his home. He wanted to be in his closet sized room on the Jolly Roger where his only décor was a rusty oil lamp and a patchwork quilt made by his mother, a pirate in his dad's crew. He wanted the smell of the sea to waft into his window while he listened to the creaking floorboards as his father's crew kept watch.
But his dorm windows only opened to a view of the courtyard, a place he'd like to see go up in flames now. His bed was huge and covered in blankets with skulls on them, hand-me-downs from Harriet. And over on the mantle of the fireplace (why did this room even have a fireplace) were photos of memories that only caused him pain.
Harry was face down in his uncomfortable bed, willing himself not to cry. But deep down, he was so tired. Tired of pretending, tired constantly trying. Being in Auradon meant you could have anything you wanted. It meant that evil could have a happy ending.
So where was his?
Harry sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He tried to retrace the last school year in his mind, trying to find where he'd gone wrong. He'd broken all the rules, he'd done well in every scheme or prank he attempted. He'd stolen so much of what wasn't his. He'd wooed Mal and the two of them had caused wickedly wonderful chaos together.
But then that day, the Steal-A-Thon match. She'd called his name instead.
Harry had never felt heartbreak before. He'd been feeling it every day since then.
Even though it had just been a spell, Mal still chose Ben. Seeing them together in the halls, on TV, doing everything that should have been for him and Mal…Harry had gone a little insane. Well, more so than he already was. He couldn't think straight, his thoughts spinning like a toy train.
And he knew who to blame for that.
He walked over to his mantle, touching the frames of each of the pictures. There he was, a little boy standing on a bow of a row boat with a homemade pirate flag. Uma and Mal were next to him while Gil was swimming in the water after falling out. They'd grown up together, the children of the greatest villains in history. Harry knew Mal had a childhood fear of snakes and nightmares of being killed by Phillip's sword like her mother nearly was.
He'd known it was her plan to destroy it at her coronation since they were nine.
Next to it was a picture from Mal's sixteenth birthday ball. They looked wicked together, his black pirate coat matching her very low-cut gown. She was glaring at the camera while he was staring at her. That day, right before the school year started, he was sure it was going to be the best year ever. Then Mal made her proclamation.
Harry snarled and turned to the picture of Ben from the coronation tacked onto his wall. He pulled a knife out of his boot and flung it at the picture where it landed right in his forehead, next to other marks from knives he'd flung at the picture before.
Harry pulled a sword that was mounted on the wall off its hooks. A rusted blade, it'd been his tenth birthday gift, recovered from Peter Pan himself (he'd had a habit of stealing swords from the pirates). It was perfectly balanced and under the rust was a long forgotten royal crest from its original owner before the pirates had uncovered it from the sea.
He'd never thought of himself as a prince. But he'd thought…that maybe he would be king.
Something was boiling in his blood. A plan, a scheme. A change.
If he couldn't have that, then fine. He would become something else. A different kind of leader. A new kind of king.
Harry stabbed the sword into the ground, straight into the wooden floorboards, and began fumbling along the wall.
No, no, no, there!
He dug his nails into a thin indent in the wall and pried open a small square of metal. It hung open on squeaky hinges, revealing a tiny safe embedded in the wall. One thing was inside. A small bag of pixie dust, taken from the fairies of Neverland, for use in emergencies only.
Harry was pretty sure this counted.
He tied the pouch to a leather cord and put it around his neck, the magic dust warm against his chest. Then he stalked out into the halls.
One perk of an evil school, no security. Harry was free to sneak out of the dorms and into the cool night air. The clouds covered the stars, as they always did, but one in particular shined through. The second star to the right.
Harry stood straighter in its light, taking the smallest pinch of pixie dust from his bag, and sprinkling it over himself. Then, lifted by the thoughts of his destination, he took to the skies.
Soaring over campus, he tilted his body to drift toward the woods. In nearly no time at all, he landed next to a small crumbling castle. There was scaffolding around the towers and the new stained-glass windows along the observatory window glittered in the little light. A pink flag was mounted on the top of the tallest roof, painted with a dark spinning wheel.
Audrey's castle.
Harry had learned how to pick locks before he could walk. The halls were lined with plush carpet, patterned with black brambles and pink roses. He did not know how he knew his way, perhaps he was finally being led by something other than evil, but he found Jane's room almost instantly.
He pushed the wooden door open slowly, not wasting time looking around. He crept over to Jane's white canopy bed where the young fairy was laying, her dark curls contrasting starkly against the pale pillows.
And there, on her nightstand, was her wand.
Harry hesitated for only a moment. He was done being less than, done being hurt, done being taken advantage of. His blood was boiling, his skin was burning…
He took the wand. It felt like light, like a rush of adrenaline straight to his heart. Jane rolled over in her sleep and Harry slipped back down the hall, the way he'd come. When he stepped outside, the clouds rolled revealing the moon in the sky. In its light, he stood, marveling at the power tingling in his palm, calling to him.
But Harry wasn't done yet.
Off he flew once more, landing in front of the museum that housed all the historical artifacts of their parents' stories. Armed with the Fairy Godmother's wand, he blasted through locks, turned security cameras dark, and froze golem guards right where they stood.
Harry was tempted to go find his father's exhibit, to take his first hook off the wall. But Mal hadn't liked the bad boy.
Down the darkest hall was the exhibit of the former heroes. The click of his boots echoed off the marble walls.
He'd never thought of himself as nice, as good.
Protected by enchantments were wands and roses and glass slippers. But he wasn't here for those.
Harry was going to be a leader. Not the evil king he'd always dreamed of being. No, something new was stirring in his heart, magnified by the power of the wand he held.
"I want what I deserve," he muttered, turning to the display of royal jewelry in glass boxes. Moana's necklace, Rapunzel's tiara, they all glittered under the flickering wall sconces that lit the museum. Harry's eyes fell on a crown sitting in the center, a golden circle with the metal curled into delicate fleurs and sharp points.
Former King Adam's crown.
If they wanted a hero for a king, fine. Harry was going to be one like they'd never seen. He'd show them what heroes truly did, he'd rid Auradon of evil.
He raised his new wand and focused. Light shot out, blinding scarlet, and the glass box shattered. Not caring about the shards, Harry reached in. He raised the crown high…
And placed it on his own head. Magic pooled from the wand, from his heart. It encircled him tightly, transforming him. His red pirate coat was mended and shortened, turning into a prince's coat with shiny buttons and epaulettes. His shirt was buttoned, and his dark pants were pressed, tucked into shiny dark boots. His dark curls fell into his eyes that were no longer lined with black and atop his head sat the crown of his enemy's own father.
He would be the ruler of the good and the gracious. And he would get what he deserved.