Chapter 7

The sound of Theo weeping had woken Hermione. She sat up to find Theo in Draco's arms sobbing inconsolably. When she'd finally come to bed, she'd discovered the two men cuddled together for warmth, she'd assumed, but they'd made a pretty picture nonetheless. Now Theo was disconsolate.

What happened? She mouthed to Draco.

He shook his head at her, his face a mask of confusion as he rubbed soothing circles on Theo's back, but the physical comfort didn't seem to be helping much. Theo continued to sob as though the world was ending.

Pursing her lips, Hermione reached into her knapsack and summoned a vial of calming draught.

"Theo," she whispered, coming closer. "I need you to drink this please."

His breath came in frantic gasps, but he opened his lips and she poured the lavender liquid into his mouth, then she joined Draco in rubbing soothing hands on his back and arms. After a few minutes the draught did its work and Theo's sobs began to taper off.

"Theo, I need you to tell me what happened. Why are you so upset?" Hermione asked, keeping her voice soft and gentle, something was clearly wrong.

"I've brought terrible danger down on you both. I should never have left the tower."

"Theo, you were being held prisoner there. You were utterly isolated and trapped. It was my duty as a prince to save you." Draco soothed. "It would have been wrong to leave you there."

"But my father knows." The despair in Theo's voice was heart wrenching. "He knows that I have left with you and he's searching for us. My father is a dangerous man. I've put you both in terrible danger."

"Theo, how do you know this?" Hermione asked.

"I have true dreams. I have all my life and I dreamt of you before you came to the tower. I knew that you were coming, or I hoped so anyway."

Theo is a seer Draco mouthed to Hermione.

Sounds like it Hermione mouthed back.

"So you knew that we were coming Theo, what does that have to do with your father?" Hermione queried. "How could he know about Draco and I?"

"I misplaced one of my dream journals or left it behind and it had drawings of you two in it. In my dream my father was looking at your pictures and he said that I could run, but I couldn't hide thT he would find me."

"Theo, I need you to be honest with me. Did your father do more than lock you into the tower?" Instead of answering, he leaned back from Draco's embrace. Theo pulled his shirt over his shoulders and Hermione saw the scars and burns that covered his back.

She let out a shocked gasp, but not due to the evidence of years of physical abuse, but due to the tattoo that dominated the back of Theo's shoulder. It was an ornate letter N and Hermione recognized that particular ornate "N." It was part of the sigil of the royal house of the Kingdom of Nott. It was the only place on his back that wasn't covered in burn and thick scars.

Theo was the firstborn son of that royal house and clearly had no idea.

No wonder his father was hunting for him, Hermione thought grimly. Why would anyone keep their heir hidden and torture him in such a way?

Draco's eyes ran over Theo's back, before he forcefully yanked the other man's shirt back down. Hermione recognized the fire in his eyes, he'd punched a ward of his father's in the face for calling her a bastard before with that look in his eyes. It was the look that told her that Theo was his to protect in his mind, Draco wasn't so unlike the dragon that he was named for. He was possessive of what he perceived as his. As a prince it should have been his castle and his lands, but for Draco, it had always been people: his mother, her, and now it seemed Theo.

Draco held Theo against him, not ready to let the other man go. He didn't understand the way that Theo was making him feel. He'd rolled in the hay with the other squires as a boy, but that was just scratching an itch before Hermione had finally accepted his kisses and attentions in private, but last night he couldn't sleep. He was so aware of Theo's every shiver. He hadn't just invited him into his bed to keep the other man warm; he'd had selfish reasons. Draco wanted to touch Theo again. The tantalising way that Theo smelled and the feeling of him in Draco's arms when they'd descended from the tower had been haunting the blond all day.

Having Theo in his arms had felt so right. Draco slept better than he had since the last time that he'd managed to convince Hermione to cuddle him after they'd made love in the forest. Then to wake up to find Theo sobbing had struck Draco like a blow to his chest or a bucket of ice water. The sight of the scars on his back had turned the ice to a fire. Draco had already had a very low opinion of Theo's father, but then he saw it, stark against his skin.

Draco barely heard Hermione's gasp. The Kingdom of Nott was not unknown to him, but he knew that his father had been close friends with the king in their youth. His mother had known the late queen as well, but after she had died in childbed near the time that Draco had been born, the royal houses had lost their close connection. The queen died in childbed.

The queen died in childbed.

And her son with her…

In his arms was the man that made that a lie.

Theo was a prince and a seer. He obviously had realised the latter, but Draco knew that Theo had to have no idea about the former. He should have been the jewel of his kingdom, its firstborn prince, treasured and adored, not left to rot in a tower in the middle of nowhere.

Well, he was Draco's treasure now. Noone would harm him. Draco refused to allow it and the House of Malfoy always got its way, whatever it took.

Hermione had asked Theo about his tattoo as they sat there in the darkness together and Theo simply shrugged and said that he didn't remember getting it and it had just always been there. Draco and Hermione exchanged looks, unsure how to tell him.

Even now, Draco rubbed his own shoulder where an ornate "M" was tattooed beneath his shirt and jerkin.

The daylight saw them riding into a small village where they procured another horse for Theo, despite the fact that Draco was already sorry for the loss of Theo's arms around him. His stallion wouldn't appreciate the extra weight long-term and while Draco had already come to terms with the fact that the horse was unlikely to last through the sixteen week journey and the return, he was fond of him and didn't want to unnecessarily burden the charger.

Theo was timid at first when faced with the black mare that they purchased for him, but quickly acclimated to the horse's easy disposition. She was content to follow Galanthus, Draco's stallion, and easily turned their pair of horses into a small herd. She would serve Theo well as they continued their journey.

Draco had managed to soothe Theo's nerves about his father tracking them, but Draco could tell it was a delicate thing. They were a half day's ride from the border of the Kingdom of Nott and then they'd see what happened. Draco and Hermione were prepared for any threat that might come their way. He'd taken to riding with his sword ready on one side and his crossbow loaded and hung on his saddle. Hermione had shielding spells around the three of them the moment even the scurrying of a squirrel was heard.

In the end they realised that they had crossed the border into the Kingdom of Nott because of the wanted poster that had been secured to dozens of the trees that lined the forest road.

"You have to admit that it's an excellent likeness of the three of us," Draco quipped, pulling it down from the tree.

Hermione and Theo were much less amused. With a flick of her hand all the posters that they could see were turned to ash, save the one in Draco's hand, that one he carefully rolled up and put into his saddlebags. The image of the three of them together warmed him somehow. He found himself imagining how they would look in a royal portrait, the three of them, Hermione round with his heir, Theo in his own circlet.

Draco wondered what it would take to make that a reality, especially as they were now being hunted.

Where the thought should have frightened him, Draco's grin, when faced with Theo and Hermione's grim countenances, could only be described as feral and malevolent.

It looked like he was finally going to get to use his sword on this trip.

Thinking of Theo's scars, Draco found himself looking forward to drawing some blood.