To avoid confusion: "Speech", 'Thoughts', ""Sign Language"",...

.

... The Substitute ...

"Mummy and daddy are sad to have you go. You know that baby, don't you?"

"Lily we don't have ti- He's here!"

...

Harry woke up gasping, the images and sounds from his dream growing dimmer and dimmer with each raspy breath taken.

It spoke of Harry's experience with such a problem that he did not need to think much of what had happened. In fact he did not need to think about it at all.

He knew that mixture of feelings well.

Harry did not even need to ask himself whether he had been dreaming again, or what it was he had been dreaming about, for that matter. Because it did not matter how many times morning such as that one happened, the answers remained unchanged.

He must have been dreaming, yes. But what about? That he could no longer remember. That he could never remember.

Yes, it wasn't by far the first morning Harry had started off with mere imprints of feelings from a dream unremembered.

Fear.

Worry.

Sadness.

Oh, the overwhelming sadness.

Whose sadness was it he was feeling? His? Maybe. And maybe not. The only thing Harry knew was that that dream was something which returned often.

It was so different from the dreams other people told him about. Ones which brought music and colours. Ones which brought feelings and images of happiness, joy, or at least cheer.

No, the dream which kept returning in increasing frequency as Harry grew older was not that kind of a dream. The teen knew as much despite never remembering its content. He did not even know whether it was just something his mind came up with or a memory which was trying to come to the surface. Was the dream always the same? Did it change from one time to another?

Were he to be asked, Harry wasn't even sure if he'd ever find out.

And yet...

With all his heart...

Harry hoped that one day it would all make sense.

Until such a time came, he came to accept that some days he was going to start on a sadder note than the others.

Carrying that cross around was something he became apt at as years went by, even though it never become easy to do so.

Neither did living with that unidentifiable emptiness it brought.

...

"Harry!"

""Yes, Miss Astoria?"" the adressed teen mouthed with a smile. He knew that greeting as basic as that could do without the use of the sign language. It also served to keep young lady of Green Grass on her toes.

"I keep telling you to drop the "Miss" over and over! Every day at least! How can you be so cheeky even though you can't speak?"

It spoke for the length of their acquaintance that Harry waved off the direct addressing of his condition. Even if the eyes of the lady in question projected the warm sympathy over his condition it would have been harder to take from just about anyone else.

He did not want or need pity.

He had learned to live with his inability as well as he could. It was not as if it was Astoria's fault that he could not speak. In fact it was thanks to the lady of Green Grass, soon-to-be of Mal Foi, that Harry came to have as good a life as someone of his condition could hope for. There was no need to project the occasional time of bitterness onto his saviour.

Harry tried to internalize his ever-present dismay instead.

He did so despite being aware how bad he was at it. He did so knowing well enough how much harder to bear it made some days compared to others. Especially days such as that one was forming to be from its very start.

But that was just the way he was.

There were much worse ways he could be living. Some of those worse ways he had even lived.

He never ever wanted to return to those.

""Once again, Miss Astoria,"" Harry moved his hands purposefully, the signs forming the more courteous pattern of address. ""What is it, that you need of me?""

"Harry... Whatever... What I need of you is for you to come and help me prepare for tonight's engagement party. I think we're both aware that your sense of fashion is horrendous, but at least whatever you choose shall be a source of amusement to me and be a sure combination that should not be chosen." the young lady teased.

""I am not denying that my sense of fashion is not on par with yours, Miss Astoria. But I stillthink you would look great in something I have chosen.""

"Yeah, right. Maybe... No need to worry your pretty head over what I will be wearing tonight, though. What your worry for today is, is what you will be wearing."

""I'm supposed to be there as well?"" Harry asked, surprised, as the two of them started to walk towards the set of rooms the young noblewoman occupied for the time being. It went without saying that it was only a temporary solution, as once the short time between the engagement and the wedding passed, Astoria was going to move into the West wing. The part of the castle where her soon-to-be husband's rooms were.

"But of course, dear Harry. It's something you cannot afford to miss. Don't tell me you've planned to be doing anything else!"

""Let me see... A quiet evening with a book? Or a noble party no one really wants me on...? Tough choice.""

"You know it's not like that, Harry."

""And you know it is. Even the heir of the Mal Foi kept looking at me funny yesterday when you went to tell him about your... problem. He saw right through you dressing me up nicely. As a matter of a fact, it is quite obvious I am not of even a minor merchant family. Just imagine how many weird looks I would be getting in a room full of people of his and yours station.""

"You thought he was looking at you funny?" Astoria asked, turning to her servant with a laugh, thinking of the conversation she had with said noble. Then however her laughter froze, seeing the somber look on the younger teen's face.

'Is it one of those days...?' she asked herself, even as she continued to speak.

As far as the young noblewoman was concerned, there was nothing sadder than those sporadic days when her young servant doubted himself for a reason unknown.

He was the one person who could bring her out of any of her blues, always trying to make her smile... But there were days where that cheery mask cracked. What she simply called the 'sad days'. The days when he was in need of someone who would be able to do that for him.

Astoria did not have that ability.

And what with how their conversation was going, she knew he was too far deep for her to be able to reverse everything she had said.

Even the smallest of things could be the trigger, however it was too late to back track. Were she to change her mannerism all of sudden, the crash which was sure to follow would only be so much worse.

She could only continue in the vein she had started.

"You really thought that he looked at you and what he thought was you're somehow inadequate? That you've been found lacking?"

Harry did ot even need to start speaking for Astoria to know that it indeed was one of those days.

""I'm a servant bought from slave trade. I'm a mute. I'm not particularly good-looking. I'm not even truly useful. The only reason I've been chosen as your companion is because I caught your fancy when you were a little girl. Because you wanted someone to play with. It certainly was not because of any ability of mine... Astoria. You can't get any more lacking or inadequate than that.""

"Oh, Harry." the young woman sighed, saddened to hear the list of Harry's perceived faults.

'He's too far gone already.'

There was no way she'd be able to cheer Harry up, given how she already knocked him down. Even inadverently.

She only wanted to tease him a little.

Harry would have reacted to it as just teasing any other day.

The two of them had long since formed a friendship which Astoria felt to be deeper than even the one she had with her older sister. She honestly cared for the teen who was much like a younger brother she never had.

Everything was such a mess.

The need for public appearances.

The fact that she was of much higher status than him.

The backlash Harry could get from not respecting her as was "her due". One of the reasons Harry insisted on calling her by at least some title, she knew.

Astoria could not even bring herself to feel any joy from getting her companion to call her by only her first name for once. Such an empty victory...

She knew what was going to come before Harry raised his hands to sign.

""Please go alone. You can choose anything well enough without my help. If you think I absolutely must be at the party, choose something for me as well, but I'd really rather you did not. Have a nice day, Miss Astoria.""

With those words Harry bowed - something he rarely ever did, as Astoria cured him of the need in her surroundings for most part - and started the slow walk over to the outer parts of the castle.

It was always hard for him to stay in her presence - the living proof of his insignificance - on days like that one.

On those days he needed to do something.

And at least once he reached his destination - the outer parts being busy what wihthe preparations for the evening - he could feel useful. It was implied that he should be helping there when not with Astoria anyway.

"If only you knew, Harry..." Astoria whispered after his retreating form, thinking back to her conversation with Draco once more.

There would be time when she could tell Harry the contents of their talk. But as of that moment they had promised each other silence.

"If only you knew..."

...

The engagement party was a grand affair. One worthy of two of the most influential families of the lands of Slytherin. That was for certain. But even with how lavish the event was, nothing could be done about the underlying tension which came along with its participants.

Majority of those present knew how big the need for the upcoming marriage was. Majority also knew what the expectations of the marriage were.

United front. Stronger army. Continuation of both lines... The want for an heir especially being on forefront of many people's mind, what with the war likely approaching.

Not that any of the nobles, all well-educated in "proper behaviour", brought up the threat of war on a gathering such as that one.

There were hints of course. One noble saying how strong such a union was going to be, another how much the union cold bring to both lands... Normal wishes for a highborn couple, it could be said. Yet in the given context everyone present knew just what was being said.

It was those unsaid words, which worried Astoria the most.

She knew that the repercussions could be heavy, were their deceit ever come to light. Her role in it especially.

She knew that the ones who were speaking the most quiet now, were those who are going to get immediately suspicious when no child appeared soon.

They were the ones who could cause problems, she knew.

She felt so helpless.

...

"Don't worry about them, Astoria."

"But..."

"We will deal with that bridge once we come to it. That's what we agreed on, or did we not?"

"Yes... Yes, we did."

"Now. Who is my lovely, official fiancée searching for in the crowd?"

"The same person my official fiancé is, I would imagine."

"Ah... So. He isn't coming?"

"I had hoped he would, but today was... Not a good day."

"You will have to tell me about that sometime later."

"I will, eventually. Now is not the right time though."

"I can be patient."

"To learn about this, you will need to be."

"Not a problem for me. In the meanwhile though, how about we dance?"

...

He could not bring himself to come after all.

Astoria had even picked an outfit for him and had it sent over, but Harry honestly could not imagine putting it on. Everything about the clothes - from fabric to buttons - screamed money.

Not something he wanted people's eyes on.

At least the note kept his conscience from too deep a guilt.

A note from Astoria, which assured him that were he not to come, she would be sad, but understanding of it.

He almost expected her to be angry.

Thinking back to their conversation, Harry was almost sure Astoria was going to be at least a bit miffed. Then again, the noble he tentativel called a friend was something else entirely.

Someone who did not much care about his station.

Someone who actually cared.

Yet the moment his mood swung low, he lashed out at that wonderful soul.

However good she was at guessing the ups and downs of his moods it was his fault entirely that at times she caught him in the worst of them. After that not much was needed to be done or said to set him off.

The bad days.

Harry knew Astoria called them as such.

It could not be more apt a description.

Bad... that was what they truly were.

At least in the past it was rare for the dreams to come on consecutive days. At times they came within weeks, even months of each other. But recently the interval had been getting shorter and shorter.

And Harry just knew that he was going to be dreaming again. If only he knew what he was going to be dreaming of...

...

"Lily, take Harry and go!"

'Whose voice is that?'

"Mummy loves you, Harry. Daddy loves you. You are so so loved."

'Mum?'

"Mummy and daddy are sad to have you go. We just need to know you are somewhere safe... You know that, baby, don't you?"

'Do I...?'

"Lily we don't have ti- He's here!"

'...Dad?'

"Be safe, Harry. Be strong... And don't. Ever. Tell."

...

Maybe then he would know just why that dream tore him apart so much.

Sooo... this took way longer than I thought it would. Sorry for that. (._.') The problems of having the plot planned, but not actually written out, ladies (and gentlemen?)

As has been established in this chapter, please do note that in this AU Harry is younger than Draco AND Astoria by several years. (D: 24, A: 18-20, H: 17-18)

Constructive criticism welcomed!

See ya~ ("-.-)/