Harry Potter didn't get to sleep that night. He sat on the edge of a chintz armchair that looked dusty enough to give Aunt Petunia a hernia, his eyes on the veins of crystal now steadily pulsing through his skin. Streaks of white and gold occasionally intersected the constant, azure blue. Soft light welled up in the crystals and cast outwards, illuminating the room in a gentle glow.
The man named Aaron was in the room with them, though he looked just as tired. The crystals on his chest—Harry could see him wince every time he stretched too far—were just barely visible underneath the pressed shirt he'd changed into. Aaron met his eyes and nodded slightly, toying with the ridges of crystal that passed over his collarbone. The book was in his hands, held gently, as though the worn paper inside would crumble at the slightest touch.
A soft snore drew his attention to the sole bed in the room. Dudley had flopped down on it as soon as the door was open, and in another five minutes he'd been out like a light. The rasping sounds of Dudley's breath, combined with the tingling pressure running through his veins and into the crystals, left him wide awake and completely energized. He sighed and returned to focusing on the well of power shining through the crystals.
"Granted by the Ring," he muttered. Aaron snorted at him, and he returned a smile. With a bit of effort and a flex of his fingers, he dredged up a fragment of that power and let it settle above his palm. A shard of crystal shimmered into existence, releasing a white glow as bright as any lamp. It sputtered after a few seconds and winked out.
"Nine seconds this time," Aaron noted. Harry blinked and stared at him. He was grinning wryly, one hand on his chest and the other in the air before him. A few sparks danced along his fingertips, but nothing more. "You've gone up two from when you started."
Aaron, Harry decided, was one of the strangest people he'd ever met. Whenever the Queen was around, his mouth was set in a hard line and he was ready to draw his gun in an instant. The moment she left, however, he deflated, looking more like a roguish, exhausted accountant than anything else. A thin layer of stubble ran across his face, something he was sure wasn't quite protocol for the Queen's guard.
"Teach me how to do that?" Aaron asked, blue eyes twinkling in a vacant glow. Harry started and glanced at his hand, where another glassy shard hovered. He allowed it to fade into dust.
"It's sort of... different from anything else," Harry began, glancing at his hand. "Like if you've been sitting down for a long time and your leg falls asleep, and you can still move it even though you can't feel it." He delved into the blistering light held within his crystals, pulling a fragment out. Like an unfamiliar muscle, something in his core flexed, then contracted. Another shard of crystal, this time lifeless and clear, rose from the dust in his palm.
"Like this?" Aaron asked. Harry saw the glow sharpen underneath his shirt, becoming a pale blue line stretching from his left collarbone to the ribs on his right. Something started to form in front of him, ragged and misshapen. Harry stood and moved towards the blueprint of white-blue light.
Ice flashed out from the point, spraying across the room. Harry yelped and threw his hands up. Across from him, Aaron grunted, his voice partially drowned by a sharp gust of wind. Cold permeated the room, leaking into his bones and etching frost on the walls.
"What was that?" he asked, wide-eyed. Aaron shook his head and stared at a cluster of sharp ice crystals frozen to the north wall.
"I have absolutely no idea," he whispered. A web of hoarfrost was spreading along his palm, greedily creeping across skin and drywall alike. He flexed it, and the rime shattered, falling to the floor like diamond dust. His eyes flared blue again, as did the patch of light beneath his shirt. Any ice that remained promptly vaporized on the spot, becoming a thin layer of fog.
"That was entirely unexpected," Aaron said after a moment. "And it wasn't anything like what you did. How did you make the light again?"
"It's… different," Harry struggled to explain. "Every time I do it, I just tell it to do whatever and it does what I need it to do. I'm best with invisibility, but I'm getting pretty good at that little light too." To demonstrate, Harry found the specific point in his metaphysical well of power that he'd touched several times before and pulled on it. Threads of glass and dust and crystal wrapped themselves around his arm, turning it clear, if a bit distorted. The moment his whole body was ensnared, the telltale shattering sound boomed from his form, much louder than he ever remembered it being. Aaron winced, but his head rose, ears tilted to the side.
"Potter, I may be trying to learn this, but you're to stay exactly where you are. Don't forget that I have permission to detain you if you disobey orders."
"I was just showing you," Harry muttered, but he flexed the magic again and his form cracked back into view. The dip in energy was interesting, but miniscule; he had the feeling he could go on for much longer before feeling the same sort of bone-deep weariness from the teleporting fork.
Aaron looked about to reply, but a buzzing sound from his pocket distracted them both. He glanced down and picked up what looked like a black brick with blinking green lights. A single warning look was shot at Harry before Aaron reached over, pulled the book from the table Harry had left it at, and stepped out of the room.
Harry winced when the door shut, half-expecting Dudley to wake up. Thankfully, his cousin just slept on, blond locks waving fitfully as he coiled in his sleep. With a quiet murmur, Harry went back to creating his light. The heat that radiated off the crystal he created soothed his cramping hand. The effect was gentle, almost lulling him into sleep, but then a julot of energy would rush back through him and he'd realize he was wide awake and the light-giving shard was nowhere in sight.
Still, even if they hadn't spoken much, he and Aaron had come up with some interesting ideas. Well, he's thought of some clever plans—if Aaron was half as smart as he expected, there was no doubt that he had as well. The glint of glassy crystal buzzed to life in his hand once more, and he went about sucking the light from its depths.
Harry didn't know how long he spent manipulating the crystal in his palm, only that by the time that Aaron opened the door again and gestured for someone to follow, he'd created half a dozen more and was manipulating them with flexing fingers. Each one hovered barely an inch above his palm, yet they somehow stayed in perfect formation. He allowed his focus to slacken just a bit when he noticed the Queen's steel-grey hair and neutral face.
The crystals very nearly exploded, and it was only with a force of effort and a heave of energy he didn't realize was still in his system that he managed to contain them into just evaporating. The Queen's knife-edged glare at his palm was telling enough that she'd noticed.
"It seems you weren't as tired as I expected you to be," she said calmly, though there was a hint of something else he couldn't identify staining the back of her voice. "Well, one of you, at any rate."
"Do you want me to wake up Dudley… um, Your Majesty?" Harry tried. He scowled inwardly at how pathetic it had sounded.
If the Queen had heard it, she didn't address it. Instead, she shook her head and gestured out the door. "No, I think you will be sufficient for this, Harry Potter. If I recall your story correctly, young Mr. Dursley didn't have anything to do with this journey of yours. I am in a bit of a predicament, and I am afraid I will need your advice."
Harry tried to contain the balk that threatened to jerk from his shoulders. "If you're sure, Your Majesty," he said quickly. "But… what can I do?"
"You can give me what information you know about the Ring and the Crystal," the Queen began. "But that is only after we have had breakfast and moved to Downing Street. I suspect you haven't had anything to eat in the past few hours, no?"
Harry's growling stomach was, to his mortification, all the answer she needed. "I expected as much. I don't often eat with my family, not when they're scattered all over England, but I do believe my son and his wife are here."
"I thought it was custom for the royal family to exclude most people from family meetings, Your Majesty," flame-haired Cormac said, sliding through the door and looking distinctly more revitalized than he had the night before. "The only people you've ever made exceptions for are visiting ambassadors, and even then not often."
The Queen's smile became mysterious, tinged with a mirth Harry wasn't sure he liked. "Oh, but young Mr. Potter is a visiting ambassador. A royal one, no less. Since he was the one to bear the Ring to me, I only think it would be fair to designate him as the official ambassador between the Kingdom of Lucis and Britain."
"The official ambassador of an unofficial kingdom that doesn't exist?" Aaron glanced at Harry. "You're going places already, Potter."
Harry was sure the tips of his ears were a burning red.
As the four of them walked, the Queen slowed to match Harry's pace. He winced at the soft pattering of their shoes against brilliant red rugs and the gentle rush of air past his ears. "Mr. Potter," she said primly, "The two of us are going to need to talk after this breakfast is over. You aren't in trouble," she added upon seeing his horrified face. "It will simply be a discussion what will come of Lucis."
"You Majesty, Lucis is gone," Harry said uncertainly. "Noct—ah, King Noctis—said so himself."
"He simply stated that Lucis is Britain, and Britain is Lucis," the Queen corrected. "You, me, and everyone in this palace are now Lucian citizens as well. Britain is mundane, Lucis is magic, Mr. Potter. This could very well mean a new age for our country and its people. You are the most familiar in this castle with magic, and you have the book that Noctis bestowed upon you. I suggest you study it, because I will be asking questions and I want satisfactory answers."
Harry simply nodded sharply, unsure of what else to do. "This is bizarre," he mumbled quietly.
"I suppose it is," the Queen said, the ghost of a smile touching her features. "You weren't expecting to be eating breakfast with the Queen, were you?" He shook his head mutely, and her ephemeral grin became a genuine smile. "I suggest you be on your best behavior when you meet Charles, Mr. Potter. I may be lenient with you, but I doubt he will."
The dining hall was ridiculously huge. Bedecked in brilliant reds and whites the likes of which Harry had never seen before, it nearly burned at the eyes with how bright it was. A single table, stretching from end to end of the room, had been covered in a sterling cloth, gilded with what looked like golden vines along the rim.
It all seemed a bit much, especially since there were only four plates set.
"Be a dear and sit down at my right, Mr. Potter," the Queen said as she moved toward one of the seats. "If Philip adheres to his usual traditions, he will be in shortly. I expect Diana and Charles to enter with him. Oh, and be sure to offer a nice stiff nod to my husband. Pleasant as he is, Philip is still the Duke of Edinburgh, and deserves a bit of respect."
Harry nodded and sat next to one of the placed tablesets, fidgeting with his hands all the while. The Queen whispered something to Cormac, who nodded and departed out one of the many side doors lining the hall. Harry stared a bit longer. The red and gold complemented each other well, but the strikingly white accents caught his eye and dragged it along.
The Dursleys didn't have anything nearly this exorbitant. They were normal, with their normal house and their normal car and their normal jobs. The Queen, as Harry had realized the night before, was anything but normal.
"You're looking chipper, Elizabeth," a new voice called. Harry glanced up and regarded the new man with interest. Even though he looked freshly awake, complete with gentle bags under his eyes and a drooping smile, he was dressed in a full suit that looked more expensive than everything Harry had ever owned combined. What little hair he had shone a steely grey in the brilliant light of the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. He took a few steps forward, apparently curious, then glanced down at Harry with brown eyes. "And we have a guest. What might your name be, young man."
Harry nodded sharply, though it came out as more of a bow than anything else. "I'm Harry Potter, sir."
"Well then, Harry Potter, we'd best get a place set for you!" He strode jovially to one of the side doors, shouting something to an unseen person before stepping back out. "By the way, why are you here?"
"Mr. Potter," the Queen interjected smoothly, giving him a steady glance that clamped his mouth shut, "has been chosen as the ambassador between Britain and the kingdom of Lucis. He is young, but we believe he has the potential to do great things in his tenure."
To his credit, Philip did little more than blink and sit down across from the Queen. Harry supposed it stemmed from dealing with lots of stuffy, annoying royals. Philip didn't bother tucking his napkin like the Dursleys insisted on doing, instead plopping straight down on his chair and pouring himself a cup of steaming coffee. "I wasn't aware of a kingdom called Lucis," he admitted. "Is it a new nation? Sounds Italian. Did the Sicilians finally revolt?"
He chortled at his own joke, and though Harry was dumbfounded he laughed along weakly. "It's a bit more complicated than that, Philip," the Queen said. "But that is not a discussion to be had over breakfast. For now, I believe I smell crepes."
Harry smelled crepes as well, though there were berries mixed in, and sugar syrup too. Instead of moving to the kitchen as his instincts were telling him, though, he simply sat in his seat and listened to Philip perform his one-sided banter with the rest of them.
Over the course of a few minutes, two more semi-familiar figures stepped into the dining hall. Prince Charles was as Harry remembered him on the television: a bit stern, but otherwise kind-faced and greying. Princess Diana, on the other hand, was all brilliant smiles and fluid movement, even in a prim business skirt. She took one look at Harry, cooed obligingly, and engaged him in a conversation so lively he couldn't have stayed silent if he tried.
It was absolutely bizarre.
But still, he was smiling as Cormac brought out a huge platter of crepes and eggs, finished with berries and fruits of all sorts. After a moment's hesitation and Philip snatching a stack of syrup-laden crepes, Harry grabbed a grapefruit and a small cluster of soft boiled eggs.
Breakfast was delicious, and it wasn't just because Harry had gotten as much of it as he wanted. Truthfully, he couldn't eat much more than what he'd first grabbed, only managing two more crepes before he felt stuffed. There was something about eating food that other people cooked for him, though, that warmed him through even more than the crepes did.
Breakfast came and went quickly, far sooner than Harry had wanted. After what felt like only a minute they were all cleaning their plates, the scrape of metal against china filling the cavernous depths of the room. Philip still had his idle chatter interspersed between bites, and Princess Diana's discussions with the Queen managed to rope Harry into what little he knew about schools and libraries. Finally, though, the plates were cleared and Harry dabbed at his mouth, trying valiantly to clear a bluish blackberry stain from the corner of his lips.
"Now we dispense with pleasantries and get onto business," Philip sighed, eyes locked on Harry's. He gulped and looked back, fighting the urge to feel invisible. What made it worse was that he could actually do it without much trouble. "Elizabeth, you seem to have something to say to young Mr. Potter."
"Indeed I do," she responded, rising from her seat. Her chair made only the softest of sounds. "Mr. Potter, if you and Aaron would please step forward. Cormac, you as well." Harry did as he was told. Cormac and Aaron towered on either side of him. Suddenly his hand began to itch madly, and though he managed to resist the temptation to scratch it he couldn't hide the fact that the crystal formations running along his skin began to burn with a heavy white light. Beside him, Aaron stiffened, and he could only guess that the older man's chest had begun to sting as well.
The Queen raised her hand, palm outwards. Harry caught a harsh light emanating from the Ring of the Lucii, cloud-white and intense and unimaginably immense. "It has come to my notice that Lucian kings have had their Glaives since their rise to prominence," she intoned, eyes closed tight. Harry fought the urge to look back as three pairs of eyes fell on him. "The Kingsglaive was meant to protect the King, which in turn protects the Crystal. Poenus forged the Kingsglaive from his army, recruiting more than a hundred members of the greatest feats. By the end of Regis' reign, there were a dozen still loyal to the cause. By the end of Noctis', only three remained.
"The Kingsglaive must follow the rise of a new King. I do not have a Crystal to protect, but my people are more precious than any jewel or magic." The light stretched, becoming tendrils of flame that intertwined in white and blue strands. Harry felt the familiar pull of the flames and reached out to present the back of his hand. Cormac stayed stalwartly frozen, but with fingers more deft than he'd realized, Aaron unbuttoned the first few rungs of his shirt and moved his tie to the side, allowing only a smidgen of his own crystals to peek out. "Do you, Cormac Byrne, Aaron Maccoby, and Harry Potter, agree to take up arms in defense of Lucis and its King?"
Harry tried to speak, but nothing came out. He cleared his throat, wet his lips, and managed to force out a quiet affirmation. Beside him, Aaron and Cormac also agreed.
The King had been found and the Ring had been taken up. All that was left was to write his own story, intertwined with Lucis and its people.
The lapping flames shot forward as lances of near-solid fire, piercing the crystals woven into his flesh. It didn't hurt, not like the first time, but there was an uncomfortable crawling sensation creeping up his arms and into his shoulder. The Queen continued speaking all the while, eyes glittering and hard. "The pact between King and Glaive is sacred, one of utter trust. The Ring and the Crystal know who break the bonds forged between their Chosen and the Chosen's Chosen, and punishment is dealt summarily and brutally. Do you so swear that in protecting the King, you shall not betray her?"
"I swear," Harry said, more loudly this time. His eyes set forward, he focused on the fire that was feeding into his crystals. This was… new. The only way to describe it was unique, even though he wasn't sure how. A gut feeling, deep enough that he barely noticed it with the lightshow and itching that had reached his sternum, pointed him towards his crystals, as if to say this hasn't happened before.
"The pact is set," the Queen finished, hand closing. The Ring of the Lucii flared a nearly blinding white before settling back to its usual state. Even so, Harry could feel the change; the link between his crystals and the gem set into the Ring was almost palpable, shunting energy back and forth until equilibrium was reached. "Welcome to the birth of the second Kingsglaive." Her neutral frown became a small smile. "I suppose we'll have to design a new uniform for you three."
"In all my years," Philip breathed, "I have never seen something like this. Elizabeth, what have you done to these three?"
"I have bestowed them with the power they both need and want," the Queen said mysteriously, a small smile on her lips. "Aaron, you shall head the Kingsglaive until such time has passed that a suitable leader can be chosen. Cormac, you might be serving under him, but you have the suspicions about magic I believe we sorely need at the moment. Mr. Potter," he jumped when she turned to him, Ring still outstretched and power still sparking in her eyes, "you mentioned something about Mr. Dursley's parents, did you not? I shall have to check with them, and your guardians are certainly within their right to refuse your entry, but you are Kingsglaive now, like it or not. Noctis has told me his suspicions about you. I can only hope you shall surpass them so completely you become a modern legend."
"Y-yes, Your Majesty," Harry said weakly. Diana, Philip, and Charles all stared.
"Now, I believe we must be 'getting a move on', as they say," the Queen ordered. "Mr. Potter, we shall head to yours and Mr. Dursley's house first and clear things up with your guardian. After that, I have a meeting with the Prime Minister and a magical government to track down. I think I'll need all three of my current Kingsglaive present for that, just in case."
Harry could do little more than nod and stumble after the Queen as she left the dining hall, Cormac and Aaron flanking her, barking orders all the way through the palace.