Fest Fic: Silent Dreams (1/3) - Harry/Draco, R

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Title: Silent Dreams
Author: olimakiella
Prompt: #057 by s0ulrunner
Pairing(s):H/D, Slight Ronald/Blaise
Summary: The land of Slytherin has always been highly sought for its riches. When old fashioned murder does not work, its neighbouring lands will stop at nothing to get their hands on it.
Rating: Very light R
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warning(s): AU like whoa. The ‘ancient time period’ speak is not my forte, neither is historical accuracy. Wanking, dirty dreams and a little dirty dancing *grins*
Word Count: 25,334
Author's Notes: This is basically an excuse for a fic that encompasses Harry’s naughty dreams. Hopefully this is an enjoyable read because it certainly kicked my arse to write. Also, self-beta’d because my beta did not respond so any mistakes are my own, I apologise.







“This is very uncomfortable.” The young Prince turned to his servant and long time friend. He’d been dressed to the eyeballs in cloth fit for royalty. He rolled his eyes.

“Now you know how I feel nearly every day. You’ll get used to it. It’s only until we get to their castle anyway so stop complaining, Blaise.” He turned his amused gaze out the window of their carriage. They’d passed over the moors a while back and were now back on the ground, the invisible thestrals pulling them along a well used path to the heart of Gryffindor’s land. The Heath stretched for miles before coming to the forest that marked the edge of Gryffindor Castle grounds. He knew they were still in for a long ride and sighed. He’d heard about the forest, heard that it was sentient and only allowed those in who meant no harm. It sounded like a load of crock but he still hoped to get there soon. Maybe it could quell the feeling of fear and anxiety he was feeling in his chest. Maybe by reaching it he could feel safer than he did out in the open like this. King Lucius had sent a missive earlier telling King James that he was sending an ambassador and proof that he had no ulterior motives when asking for aid in the war that had been declared against them. He’d received word soon after that there would be an escort sent to meet him.

Blaise shifted again in the layers of cloth and looked to his Master, though Prince Draco refused to let Blaise call him that since the moment he’d received him. He put up with ‘Your Highness’ if only for his parents and the sake of decorum but anything more than that he refused to answer. The Prince was dressed in little more than plain robes and a basic muslin tunic beneath it to show his ‘status’ as a royal servant. He took in Draco’s amused smile. “I am glad you find this funny, Your Highness,” he said purposefully knowing the Prince would turn to him.

“I-” the carriage rocked dangerously and they heard a scream before the unmistakeable sound of panicked thestrals sounded. Suddenly, they were taking off into the air again. Blaise stuck his head out of his window and looked around and down. He could see the body of their driver on the ground lying at an unnatural angle. An arrow narrowly missed him while another took residence between them in the carriage wall behind their seat. Both he and Draco plastered themselves to the edges of the carriage staring avidly at the sharp point of the arrow gleaming in brass between them. The unmistakable cursive ‘H’ engraved in the handle made the knot in Draco’s chest tighten.

The wisp whistling of flying arrows could be heard again and they braced themselves moving away from the walls of the carriage. There was a high pitched whine that came from one of the thestrals and Draco’s stomach sank.

“They’ve hit one,” Blaise said to him and he shut his eyes. The both of them held on as the carriage jerked and then lurched dramatically to the side letting them know exactly which thestral had been hit.

“Nathaniel.” He’d always been Draco’s favourite. He moved to the edge and looked through the curtain on the left side to see if he could catch a glimpse of where they were. “I can see it. The castle. The forest is near and-” Another lurch. Draco peered out further seeing the thestrals in front of their carriage. He’d been able to see them since he was five having witnessed a public execution by accident. Nathaniel was the one to come to him at the stables where he’d run away from the sight of the man’s head rolling from the guillotine. They’d been easy friends since, even if he’d thrown up on his hooves.

There was an arrow in his wing and the thestral was trying to dislodge it by beating them aggressively but it only caused more pain, Draco could see it. The pain was causing him to lose his rhythm and the carriage was lurching to the left and away from the castle but toward the border of the forest. They were losing altitude and Draco could see the tops of the trees clearly. He sat back trying to think.

Blaise, sitting next to him, was holding on to his seat and the roof to stop himself from being thrown around the carriage. “Do you think you could make your way onto the other thestral and fly out of here?”

Draco turned to Blaise watching him incredulously. “Do you think you’ve taken leave of your senses?”

Blaise shrugged as much as he could in the position he was in. “Maybe, but I’m in a carriage about to crash to my death so there aren’t really many other options but insanity.”

Draco tuned him out and tried to think of a plan. He was jarred from his thoughts by the feel of the carriage touching base with the tree tops. He could hear branches breaking and scratching at the wheels. The friction was tugging them and slowing them down. He frowned. They needed to get to that castle. They needed to get the Key to the King. He’d been smart enough to switch clothes with Blaise in the carriage knowing that his father would never agree to something so foolish. If caught outside the safety of the castle, Draco would be mistaken as a servant. But Draco knew how important it was to get the key, or both it and himself to Gryffindor Castle and if he had to die to get that done, so be it. He may not be the King but he still had a duty to his people.

He shut his eyes and prayed to Merlin for strength. “Blaise, forgive me,” he said opening his eyes and turning to his servant and friend.

Blaise turned with difficulty as they were thrown about in the carriage. They were falling deeper into the trees. “For what?”

Draco hit him, making sure he was knocked unconscious. Slipping the chain off his neck, he put it around Blaise’s. The King of Hufflepuff knew his face and, though he’d recently been replaced by his son, Zacharias, Draco took nothing for granted. The disguise he’d talked Blaise into may or may not fool them and if they had been caught, the new king could have taken one look at them and ordered Blaise killed anyway. He watched his companion and tucked the chain into his clothes securely, giving him a final hug before he opened the carriage door on Blaise’s side.

It was difficult with the tree branches slamming them closed but he managed to roll Blaise out, the heavy swaths of cloth snagging on the branches and trapping him in the trees. The door slammed shut and forced Draco backward having him hit his head hard. He shook his head, inadvertently making the pain and dizziness worse and just tucked his head between his knees, which made him feel a little better. He breathed deeply as the carriage hit something hard and unrelenting. It separated the carriage from the thestrals making it tumble and roll. The chest of coins they’d brought with them as payment for the service of Gryffindor’s army split open and the coins pelted out bathing him in the gold and hitting him everywhere.

When the carriage finally stopped he could barely see. The chest had landed on him covering him in a small piece of darkness while the rest of him was covered in gold coins. Everywhere ached and the thud of hooves on the ground could be heard making the ground vibrate and his head pound. The amount of hooves headed his way made his breathing pick up and his stomach sink even further. He only had two thestrals and the amount of hooves coming toward him was much more than that.

This was it. He closed his eyes and welcomed the end.




“Greed... is a terrible thing, young Harry. It can be the foundation to any number of terrible acts, including war. You must try to never succumb to something so treacherous.”

The young Prince of Gryffindor walked with his father’s main advisor through the castle corridors that overlooked the grounds and further to the chain of mountains a great distance away. They marked the halfway point of their kingdom. The wise old man next to him had been with their family for years, serving and teaching them with his wise words. But no matter his age, Harry knew not to be fooled. The Professor walked with the stance of a twenty year old and his power rivalled that of an army of men. “Is that the reason for the war, Professor Dumbledore?”

“Not our involvement in it, we have simply been called in alms. The Slytherin lands need protecting.” The wise face grew solemn as he shook his head. Harry watched him closely, the sunlight from the early afternoon bathing his skin and making his crystal blue eyes stand out stark against his pallor. “I never thought I would live to see the day that the Hufflepuff Kingdom declared war.” His head continued to shake. “I honestly did not know there were ulterior motives for joining with Rowena’s lands.” He heaved a deep and guilt-laden sigh as he turned to his student. “Do you know why the Slytherin lands are so sought after, Harry?”

The teenager furrowed his brow and looked over the castle grounds he had been seeing since he was born. He’d learned early that he had a responsibility to his kingdom, reading much about it and its neighbours. The Slytherin Kingdom lay to the east through the forest moors and heaths he woke up to every day when the sun rose and lit his bedroom. Though small, the smallest of the four domains in the country, it rested on sacred land. A heart of magic lived there and those in control of it were powerful. The Slytherins did pride themselves on their homeland but with it they understood they had a duty to protect it.

“Their land is powerful and if in the wrong hands... it could be devastating.”

Albus Dumbledore nodded favouring Harry with a smile in his knowledge and forethought. “The Slytherins have gained a reputation to be cunning and power hungry, not helped by their wish to remain isolated. Not many wish to be a part of their world. I, myself, think that they are smart to act this way but there are repercussions.” He began to walk, his hands behind his back and Harry, dutifully, followed beside his mentor watching him and the grounds as they continued on their way in thought.

“I understand,” Harry said.

Albus watched him carefully. “Do you?”

Harry nodded confident in his answer, as Albus had taught him to be. “Their land is sacred but according to records I have read, the power it holds is not spread equally throughout and instead has an access point. It is hearsay, I know, but not all rumours are completely false.” He stopped and turned to Dumbledore making full eye contact as he spoke. Albus could feel the conviction behind the words he spoke and narrowed his eyes slightly in appreciation. He’d make a fine king one day. “If I had a secret I wanted to protect, the best defence is to ward off any and all who wish to come after it. In this, I see why they have this reputation whether true or enforced by the Slytherins themselves. However,” he said and continued to walk at a slow pace as if still in thought. Albus could not help but smile kindly. He, too, fell victim to pacing when the time took him. It seemed the young Prince had been learning more than the curriculum he’d set. “When my secret is as powerful as theirs, I will need to monitor my enemies as well as my allies.”

Albus cocked his head, curious. “Why is that, Harry?”

“Well greed, as you say, is very powerful. Whether or not the rumours are true, they could do more damage than good if it gives my enemies an excuse to take it away from me. If they feel I am undeserving of something so sacred anyone with enough men can use my reputation as justification of an attack. It can gain my enemy more allies than I. I do not fault Slytherin for asking for our help, especially before anyone else could.”

Albus smiled. “A wise answer from a man so young. Have you, by chance, been eavesdropping on your father’s meetings?”

Harry frowned. “No, I-” He paused and cocked his head suspiciously. “Why?” he asked.

“The motive you gave to me. It is exactly why the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw armies intend to invade the Slytherin Kingdom by sunrise tomorrow.” Harry’s eyes went wide. “The Slytherins have asked for help and your father is organising some men to send to their border. Meanwhile, they intend to send an ambassador who should be on his way now.”

Harry sat down at the next available archway. “Do we know who it is?” He’d met inhabitants of Slytherin before when peace talks had been engaged years ago. They hadn’t seemed so bad. Their exotic looks and style of dress were unique and Harry'd had his friends elbow him a couple of times to stop him from staring. Their temperament left something to be desired though. Severus Snape was a bit much to handle but once he’d gotten to their Potions stores Harry had practically seen the way he’d salivated over the shelves.

Albus nodded. “According to Ronald, he is their Prince.”

Harry frowned. “Prince?” Not much was known about the royal family in Slytherin, save for how secretive and tightly knit they were. He’d read the King and Queen had had a son a little older than himself but there was no documentation on how he looked or what his name was. “Is he sure?” He thought of his long time friend and inside circle member of advisors to his father, Ronald Weasley. He’d been brought to the castle around the age of seven after saving King James’ life during a march through the square. The King had asked for him to be at the castle later in the day and he’d gone only to be faced with and old man named Albus Dumbledore. Albus had recognised his talent as an Empath and set about getting permission to keep him at the castle to hone his ability and make him useful.

And useful he was. Eleven years later Ronald was powerful and his senses breached new barriers every year he trained. Harry knew better than to doubt him and knew as much when he saw Albus nod at him. If anyone knew Ronald’s power, it would be the man that trained him. “Your father has sent out men to meet him and escort him back here. He should be arriving by carriage anytime now-”

Both men turned at the sound of the toll bells that signalled the alarm. Both hurried through the corridors to the doors of the castle and turned the corner in time to see King James turn to walk outside with Ronald by his side. Harry ran to catch up to them looking out on the grounds to see one of their own soldiers riding hard back to the castle.

King James waited for the man to reach the steps at the top of the path before asking. “What word, Sirius?”

The soldier held the same striking exotic looks of the Slytherins Harry had seen visiting the castle as a small boy. The man had been sent to Gryffindor during the peace talks and never returned to his land, liking ‘the air’ better here, as he’d said then. He became quick friends with the King and Queen alike and his knowledge of Slytherin helped the King to interpret their culture. He disembarked his horse and bowed to King James before stating, “The ambassador that King Lucius sent has been attacked. We were riding through the forest when we heard it. It was an aerial attack. The carriage rode high before it was shot down. The thestrals were grounded and the carriage broke free along the edge of the forest bordering the heath.”

Harry winced. They hadn’t even gotten the coverage of the trees. It was well known that the forest was sentient. If they’d gotten further inside, the trees would have protected them. It must have been why they were attacked before entering. He saw his father turn a worrying and knowing look to Ronald who was nodding as if in confirmation.

“What of the Prince?” Ronald said.

The soldier nodded. “I haven’t seen him yet but we have him. He was bundled up in cloth but he fortunately evacuated before the carriage fell. The men say they found him unconscious in a tree.” He shook his head then. “I went to the carriage and found these lodged in the back.” He held out two arrows, both engraved with the well-known cursive H of Hufflepuff. “We found coins scattered on the ground and some under the carriage. Looks like when they couldn’t find the Prince they took all his gold instead. It could have been a common robbery but I doubt it.”

“We have an imposter here. I have been feeling it for months but I cannot point my finger in his direction.” Harry cast a curious eye at Ronald.

“Hufflepuff has a spy? Here?” he asked and Ronald turned to him and nodded.

“I am sure of it.”

Harry shook his head. “But how could they have known? The King of Slytherin did not state in his missive that he was sending his son.” They would have to have knowledge from the source to know that.

Ronald’s face took on an expression of understanding. He turned to look at the King. “We will have to notify them immediately. They have a spy of their own, possibly the same person going back and forth across the border.”

King James silenced the boys who’d become easy siblings and nodded at Ronald’s suggestion. “When will the Prince arrive?” he asked Sirius.

The soldier snapped to attention once again. “He should be here soon, Your Highness. I rode ahead to give you due warning. We are also trying to get the carriage back here.” James nodded and dismissed him. The soldier bowed low and went back to his horse riding back toward the gate that would take him through the town and back toward the forest.

James stared pensively through the gates as Sirius rode away. “I do not like this, Albus. They have been on our land and are attacking our guests. This must be dealt with.” He turned to Ronald. “Can you feel the Prince still?” He began to walk back inside.

Ronald nodded. “He is in pain but it is dull, mainly because he is unconscious.” Ronald fell into easy steps with the King, his long legs catching him up quickly. “I will know more when he arrives.”




James turned to Ronald, his brow furrowing as he went over what the Empath had just told him. “What do you mean he is not the Prince?” he asked beginning to feel as if the world had fallen around him.

Ronald could sense the King’s frustration. He glanced at Harry who was sitting down and talking to the young man in the infirmary cot. Queen Lily sat on his other side speaking quietly to them both. When the dark-skinned man snapped his gaze to him and smiled, Ronald looked away blushing. “Well, I have not met with him before but this man is not him.”

James covered his face with his hands. He shook his head. This did not bode well for their treaty. “Well - how do you know? Can you sense it on him?”

Ronald looked confused. “No. He told me.” He’d actually told Ronald many things, and asked him if he was single. The fact he was not the Prince, however, was the most important.

“He-”

The Empath nodded. “He told me. Apparently there were two of them in the carriage. They switched clothes as an attempt to protect the Prince’s identity. Once they knew they were safe, they planned on telling you the truth.”

James heaved an incredibly heavy sigh. “So... who is he?” He pointed to the man laying in the cot in frustration.

Ronald shrugged shaking his head in the process. “A servant, a bodyguard from best I can tell.” Ronald leaned against the wall. “The two of them had the same emotions: fear and anxiety, which is natural when you’re in that situation. It is also the best reason I can think of for not sensing two people in that carriage. Only now, when I think about it, I recognise the level of fear had decreased suddenly. It must have been when he blacked out.” He frowned. “But the urgency I felt before one of them fell unconscious, I believe it was from the Prince knocking him out while the carriage was falling. He says he does not remember so he must have been unconscious when he hit the trees and the only way he could have gotten there is if the Prince pushed him out.”

The King frowned. “So... he tried to save his servant instead of himself?” he asked.

Ronald was pensive. “Perhaps,” he said shaking his head as if he were still working it out. “It makes little sense though.”

“What do you mean?”

“The urgency.” Ronald’s eyes became a bright sky blue as he remembered the emotions he could feel from the carriage earlier. “It wasn’t about survival, it was about protection.”

“Of his servant?”

Ronald shook his head. “No, a mass of people. He saved his servant to protect his nation.” Both men turned to the man on the cot speaking amicably with Lily and Harry.

What is he to the Slytherin domain, that he must survive to protect it instead of their Prince? James gave up on working it out for now. The motives for the Prince’s disappearance were not as important as finding him. “This means that the Prince – the real Prince is still out there.”

“Yes – but judging from what I felt earlier, I have an idea where he could be.” He dug in his pocket and took out a coin that Sirius had given him. “Gold may not have been the only treasure taken from that carriage.”


***Five Years Later***


“No, if they want their peace they can come here. No way am I going to let them go to Slytherin. Merlin knows what they could get their hands on if they cross their border.” The King turned to Ronald, his greatest friend and now advisor.

Ronald thought about the protective boundary that had been set up around the Slytherin territory. Five years ago, their Prince had been taken – possibly killed – and their land had been invaded by the Hufflepuff army. If it had not been for the Gryffindor army’s aid, they would not have survived. There were now posts around the border at the east. Ronald, Dumbledore and some experts from Slytherin had seen to Wards being set up. It had surprised them that there were none due to the Slytherins’ secretive nature.

“I understand what you’re saying, Harry, but as your advisor I have to warn you against letting them in. I have seen what they are capable of. They are not to be trusted.” Ronald watched the man before him. He looked very much like his late father, a man who brought them both up well and died a hero, as well as a good man and King of Gryffindor. “King Zacharias is not like his father was. He has led his people down some shady pathways. All I sense when I look in their direction is treachery.” His chest felt tight when thinking of Hufflepuff lands. It had joined with the Ravenclaw land through marriage of then Prince Zacharias and the Princess, Cho Chang. The Ravenclaws were excellent strategists and their people were wiser than their angles when it came to war.

Harry sighed and turned to his friend. “I do not trust them, Ronald. But I trust them even less with Slytherin. If they wish to make a war, they will make it with us, not them. Slytherin asked for our help once and we let them down.” His face turned sad as he thought of their Queen. He could only imagine what it would be like to lose a son. Having lost his own father and his wife in such a small space of time, he had an idea but he knew it was not the same, not really. He, at least, knew his father as dead.

Ronald, sensing his sorrow and where those thoughts were leading him, put a hand on his shoulder. “We have all lost people we love, Harry. King James and Ginevra, they lived their lives how they wanted to and they were happy when they lost them. Celebrate them, do not mourn.” Harry watched him closely, he’d lost his wife but Ronald had lost his sister. He was the only person Harry would deem qualified to make him snap out of it. He nodded.

“Did you find anything today?” he asked.

Ronald took the change of subject for what it was and turned to glance out the window. Since the Slytherin Prince’s disappearance five years ago, he’d been asked by King James and his successor to cast freely in search of him. He did it every evening and every morning but he got no sense of him. Nothing. It only meant one of three things: he was too far away, he was being kept somewhere that Ronald could not reach (which brought about thoughts he did not want to dwell on), or he was dead. Harry refused to believe it when he heard Ronald’s options. Draco, as the Prince was called, had to be alive even if his parents had given up hope.

“No. I have felt nothing today to suggest he is still alive.” Ronald, however, did not stop his suggestions that it was still a possibility. No person could go five whole years without being sensed. It was impossible.

Harry’s eyes shut and he sighed. “Keep trying,” he said softly.

“I will,” Ronald replied.

Harry opened his eyes. “What time will they be here?” he asked with his eyes hardening.

Ronald walked to the window to stand next to him. Harry watched as the blue of his eyes slowly sank away to be replaced by a blue much lighter than was natural. He saw Ronald smirk at his curiosity, as he always did. “They are almost here, already across the moors.” A slight frown marred his brow. “He admires the view of the Heath in spring...” The natural hue of his eyes returned and he turned to his Sovereign solemnly. “They are flying, Your Highness.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed and he dutifully ignored the ‘I told you so’, in the sarcasm of his title. It was common knowledge their forest refused entry to any foreigners with destructive intentions. “Get some men out there. Ground them. I do not want them flying over my forest. They have pushed their luck far enough by coming here.”




They had met once before when they were small boys and their fathers were still in reign. King Zechariah Smith, though uptight, had been a good king and both he and King James had gotten along well enough that there were never any major problems that could not be sorted out through missives or meetings. Harry had never liked Zacharias, though. He was both snotty and rude, someone he would never want the displeasure of knowing. He remembered when they were small Zacharias had always disliked him because Harry’s inheritance would be greater than the Hufflepuff’s. He’d made a joke that as soon as he became king, he’d marry someone from another land so that theirs could join. Harry, with all the knowledge of a four year old, had told him out of the four domains on the continent, Gryffindor was still the largest and that Zacharias would need all three to have a fighting chance. He’d neglected to mention the lands Gryffindor held abroad. He felt it best not to upset the boy anymore than he had, especially with the shade of purple his face had turned. He’d never seen him again.

When Zechariah died, Harry knew the little snot would become unbearable. He was sixteen when he became King of Hufflepuff and seventeen when he’d married Cho, the Princess of the Chang Dynasty. Though it was nineteen years on, and they were not little boys anymore, Harry should not have been surprised that as soon as he had Ravenclaw, the little shit would set his eyes on the last piece of the puzzle. In a way, Harry deemed it his own fault Zacharias went after Slytherin. He should have kept his mouth shut when he was four years old.

Three carriages pulled into the courtyard after entering through the gates and Harry stood with Dumbledore and Ronald on either side of him. Behind him, he knew his mother Lily stood with his son James. He was his only son, a blessing from his marriage to Ginevra before she died in childbirth when he was nineteen. James was four now and looked just like him, even down to the green eyes he got from his mother. Harry found it fitting his son would discover the displeasure of Zacharias Smith at the same age he did.

The royal blue and yellow-gold made him want to roll his eyes. Flash and glamour only went so far when trying to be impressive. When Zacharias got out of his carriage, crown and all, the only thing Harry could think of was that he had not changed in the slightest. The smug grin on his face still made Harry want to punch him. The Huffepluff stood on the cobble-stoned courtyard and looked around.

“It looks smaller.”

Dampening his want to knock the bastard out, Harry laughed and walked down the steps. “It’s been a long time, Your Highness,” he said and gave a whimsical bow waving hand and all.

Zacharias laughed in kind. “I suppose so, Your Majesty,” Zacharias bowed in much the same way. He stood and looked around once more, this time in remembrance. “I have not seen the inside of these walls since I was four.”

Harry looked around himself and shrugged. “Well, I call it home.”

“Indeed,” was his only answer. Zacharias leaned around him and squinted. “I say, that little boy looks just like you,” Zacharias exclaimed watching the small boy standing next to the King’s Mother. He bowed to her, showing his respect as any man should and she acknowledged him with a regal curtsy.

Harry turned and called James forward. When the dark-haired boy reached him, he picked him up and sat him on his hip grinning. “This is James. James, say hello to the reigning Sovereign of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.” James said a small hello bowing his head.

Zacharias grinned. “He couldn’t possibly be yours he’s far too good looking!” Harry laughed. Sobering, he watched Harry carefully. “I was sorry to hear about Ginevra. She was a fine match for you.”

Harry nodded. “She was. Thank you.” He looked to his son. “But she left me with a great gift.”

Zacharias signalled to his guards. “Continuing introductions, you should meet my wife.” Harry looked to the carriage to see a young woman stepping out of it. Growing up, he’d never been to the Ravenclaw lands. In light of current events, he felt maybe he should.

“Wow.” Harry turned to Ronald. Ronald gave him a grin as he shook his head in disbelief.

Zacharias gave a lascivious grin. “I know, right?”

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off her. “They all look like that?” he asked as she walked toward the two men. Her pale skin and bright eyes made him stare. Harry had never been to the Ravenclaw domain, never had a chance, nor a need to. He wished he had now. There were stories of the beauties that Ravenclaw and Slytherin held, their looks and figures similar due to their closeness geographically. That probably why she reminded him of Sirius. He assumed the stories were all a myth, a misleading tale to draw people to their rolling hills for relaxing breaks. His father never had to go there, so Harry assumed there was nothing really there for him to see.

The Hufflepuff couldn’t stop grinning. “Pretty much. Even the servants and dancers.” He turned to the last carriage. “We brought a few, thought some entertainment would be the least we could do. Peace talks can be such a bore.” Harry saw the clear difference between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw servants. It was not a wonder that, as the last carriage of dancers emptied, it was filled of only those that held similar features to Zacharias’ wife.

Harry shook his head at Zacharias. “Well damn. Good for you,” he said meaning every word. “Shall we continue inside?” He put James down and had him run up the steps to his grandmother. Harry looked at Ronald and rolled his eyes out of sight of the Hufflepuff. Ronald grinned. When he met him halfway up the steps he said, “Well?” knowing his friend would have a clear reading on every person who set foot on the cobbled stone.

Ronald shrugged. “There is some definite smugness in there,” he said as if he couldn’t believe anyone could be so arrogant. He looked around at the foreigners. “Though I do not blame him.” Both of them grinned. “However, I do not sense ill will. Not today anyway. They, also, do not know who I am. When he looks at me, I feel nothing but disdain for a servant, the same for his wife. Pretty much standard, actually.” Harry nodded and turned to face his guests.

“These guards shall show you to your quarters,” he said addressing Zacharias. “When you are settled in, I shall see you for lunch in the Great Hall?”

Zacharias nodded. “That you shall.”




“Merlin’s balls, but he is a smarmy one.”

Harry grinned at his mother’s words and put a finger over his lips. He ignored her impish grin and the way she swept her red hair over her shoulder and out of her face. “James likes to repeat words, Mother. Be careful.” She rolled her eyes.

“James knows not to repeat those words, especially when said by me.” He glanced down to her grandson who was nodding. “He is clever for his age.” She turned her head to the grounds. “I believe I want some air. I shall go for a walk, I think.” She bent her head. “You will walk with me, James, won’t you?”

The little boy continued to nod. “Yes, Grandmother.”

She laid a hand on her son’s shoulder. “See, he will not even be in the castle. You have nothing to fear, Son.”

Harry shook his head at her and sighed. He dare not say anything. Not even his father could control this woman and it had made him love her all the more. He signalled for a guard to follow her once she’d kissed him and walked toward the kitchens, an unofficial entrance to the grounds around the back.

“She is right.” Harry rolled his eyes this time and faced Ronald. “He is up to something.”

“Something that you will warn me of, I hope.”

Ronald gave him an obvious look. “I am surprised you even ask.” He shifted to look over his shoulder as if hearing his name called. Harry looked down the corridor and saw nothing. “Dumbledore wants me.” Ronald turned back to him and Harry saw his eyes as they returned to a normal shade of blue. He would always find that fascinating. “I will see you later. Steer clear of your visitors until lunchtime, I mean that.” Ronald gave him a stern look.

Harry put his hands on his hips looking much like his mother. “And just who is the King here?”

Ronald sighed. “Just trust me and do as I say. You will remain King for years to come if you do.” He continued staring until Harry gave his acquiescence. He walked toward the north tower.

Harry watched him walk away and walked back toward the entrance hall. The guards passing him bowed as he passed and he acknowledged them on his way. Through the windows that overlooked the courtyard, still filled with the three carriages, he saw Zacharias’ servants, and his, unloading the cargo attached to them. He rolled his eyes. The man was only there for three days. The talks started this evening after dinner and hopefully a treaty could be signed by tomorrow. That meant he could get the little shit out of his domain by tomorrow evening.

Looking up through the gates at the other end of the courtyard, Harry saw a messenger coming through on a horse. A guard closest to it stopped him and spoke for a moment before letting him through. Harry walked out the front doors and down the steps acknowledging the servants that bowed.

“Seamus! You send news from Blaise?”

Seamus Finnegan was the most reliable man Harry knew. The Finnegans had worked for the royal family as messengers for many years. They bred the fastest horses and thestrals and took loyalty to a whole new level when it came to keeping the secrets of the royals. Members had died keeping them. Harry learned from his own father to never take them for granted.

“Aye, I do, Your Majesty.” The sandy-haired man dismounted and stood before his king. He bowing his head before he continued. “He will arrive in a few days, there is much to sort out in Slytherin right now. He says that he believes they have the spy. He was caught with a poisoned cup of wine destined for the General we posted at the eastern end of the castle gates.”

“The eastern...” But there was nothing there beside drains... no, not drains, sewers and tunnels. Tunnels that led to the washrooms and the kitchen. No one would see an attack coming from below them. “Who was it?” he asked gravely.

Seamus sighed. “They call him Flint. Marcus, I believe.”

Harry gasped. Marcus Flint was not what he would call a nice man. He had spent many a night in Gryffindor Castle as a soldier and a go between for both domains. “Why would he turn against his own people?” he wondered. “What does the Slytherin King think of this?”

Seamus chuckled. “He may be a part of what cost him his son, Your Highness. How do you think he feels?”

From what Harry heard, Lucius was a rather foreboding man. Still, he did not pity Flint. He thought of losing his own son now that he had one. He would not wish that against his own enemy.

“Thank you, Seamus.” He clapped him on the back. “Stay a while.” He gestured for a servant to take the horse to the stables. “We have lunch in an hour. Rest and go back home tomorrow.”

Seamus nodded. “Thank you. It has been a while since I tasted Molly’s cooking. I look forward to it.”

They were walking around the carriages when Harry suddenly heard clapping. He turned and looked up, only to find a chest coming his way.

“Your Majesty, look out!” The chest continued to tumble from the top of the third carriage and luckily Seamus knocked him out of the way in time before it fell on him. Harry was looking around, a bit disoriented as he was helped up by Seamus. He heard the Irishman asking him if he were alright but heard the yells and screams for mercy even more.

“Please, sir, he meant no harm!”

“Get over here, you filthy little-” Harry saw a man thrown to the ground and heard him hiss as he scraped his hands on the cobblestones of the courtyard. More yells came from the other servants.

“Hold!” Harry said, still shaking his head. Merlin, Seamus tackled hard.

The guard turned to him, his dark eyes angry but respectful. “But, Your Highness, he-”

Harry stared at the man. “I will deal with it.”

“Your-”

“I know who I am. Do you?” Finally the guard put away his sword. He bowed and stepped back. Harry watched him carefully. Protectiveness was one thing, insubordination was another. He looked around at the other servants, seeing them held back by the stern glares of the other guards in the courtyard. They’d apparently rushed forward seeing the commotion.

Harry walked up to the man on the ground, his blond hair, falling out of a scrap of material that tied it back, obstructing his face. He crouched down and put his hand out seeing how he cradled his own hands to himself. They obviously stung. “Are you alright?” He got a nod in reply and nodded himself. “Can you tell me what happened?” The young man froze and looked up at him. Harry stared at those remarkable grey eyes as the blond man shook his head. It was quite obvious he was from Ravenclaw. Hufflepuffs did not look like this man, he could see the difference in his face as well as the similarities in certain features to those servants in the carriages he had seen before.

Harry frowned. “You do not remember?”

“Your Majesty, please.” Harry turned to the servants being held back and then glanced curiously between them and the silent man before him.

“His Highness was not speaking to you.” Harry rolled his eyes at the tone of the guard behind him. His gesture was seen by none except one. Harry held out his hand grasping the man’s wrist and helped him up, feeling the soft skin and delicate bones beneath it flex as he stood. His actions brought gasps from the people around him.

“I may not have been talking to them, McCormack, but I would like to hear what they have to say.” He glared at the man and then gestured for the other guards to let them go. “The injustice was done to me, so hold your tongue.” He saw the clenched jaw and ignored it for now as the servants rushed forward to explain.

A blond girl, with big blue eyes seemed the calmest one there. Her long blonde hair that fell to her waist had small bells threaded through them in yellow and blue. Harry focused on her. “You. What is your name?”

The girl looked around her and when she saw no one else come forward, she said, “Luna, Your Majesty.” She curtsied. He took note of the fluid way she moved. The easy grace and movement meant only one thing.

“You’re one of the dancers.”

Her eyes snapped up to him. “I – we all are, Your Majesty.” Harry nodded.

“Can you tell me what happened? Your colleague does not seem to remember.”

“No, Your Majesty, he just cannot tell you.” Harry frowned hearing the same thing from her as he had from the blond man. “He has no voice, he cannot speak.” Eyebrows raised around them, even from the guards. Harry could not hold in his surprise.

“At all?”

Luna shook her head, her long blonde hair similar to the man he’d helped up from the ground. It moved fluidly as the bells chimed musically. “We believe Snargles took it from him when he was younger.”

If anything, Harry became more confused. What was a Snargle? He glanced to the other dancers who were all rolling their eyes and shaking their heads. Only the blond man seemed to watch her in some sort of exasperated fondness. He wondered if they were siblings. He narrowed his eyes. “I am not sure what they are but I am sure they were not responsible for the chest that near flattened me. Can you tell me what was?”

She brightened. “Oh yes, the rope was slack,” she said so matter of fact it made Harry blink.

“Oh.”

“He tried to warn you, Your Majesty.” He shook his head not understanding. How can a mute man warn me of anything? “He clapped.” When there was still confusion there, Luna clapped her hands a few times in explanation.

Harry suddenly remembered the clapping from before. It was true. He turned to the man who was still cradling his hands. They must still sting. “I believe I then owe you my thanks for your warning. Without it no one would have known to shout.” He then turned to the guard behind him and glared. “And I believe an apology is in order for your mistreatment.”

McCormack blanched. “Your Highness, how was I to know-”

“Exactly. You were not exactly forthcoming in wanting to know anything as I recall. You were ready to beat him. If I hadn’t stopped you, I believe we would be entertained with bruised dancers later tonight.” He gestured to the blond man and McCormack took a halted step forward. “We do not punish accidents here.” He turned to the blond man. “But we do warn against them happening again, am I clear?” Satisfied with the nods he got, he gestured to Seamus that they head inside. “I look forward to the entertainment tonight,” he said to the group before staring at his guard. “I trust you will do what is right, McCormack.” He left them all and headed inside. As he stepped through the castle entrance, his gaze returned to the blond man who was still watching him, his grey eyes tracking his movements until he could see him no more.




Ronald walked the corridors of the castle toward the staircase later in the evening that led to King Harry’s study. Harry had the impression that if he could discuss everything before dinner they may not have to waste good food with a bad appetite. Furthermore, the intelligence they’d gotten from their informants that a General had been attacked to weaken the defence against the Slytherin castle was not information to be ignored. The king had to be sure. Everyone on their side was tired of the fighting.

Ronald paused at the entrance to the study, the portrait of a fat lady dozing in front and above him on the wall. He could not hear arguing but he definitely sensed ill-will. Quickly, he said the password and the woman jumped. The portrait swung forward to reveal an arched doorway and he strode forward purposefully. He entered into the middle of a tense discussion.

Harry looked up as Ronald came into the room acknowledging him when he inclined his head. “What I mean, Zacharias, is that I have word an attack was strategized for the Slytherin castle. One of my men could have been seriously injured.”

Zacharias did not understand what this had to do with a peace treaty. “And?”

Harry stared at him. “And I wish to know if you ordered it.”

Ronald felt the spike of indignation. “I ordered nothing of the sort!” Ronald narrowed his eyes. It sounded true. It felt true but-

“That’s what I thought you would say,” Harry said sighing. “The perpetrator is being interrogated and I will hear news of it in a few days.” He placed his hands on the large dark oak desk before him. “Until then, these peace talks will have to be rescheduled.” Seeing the look of uproar on Zacharias and his Queen’s faces, Harry sought to do as much damage control as he could. “I do regret calling you here only to send you back empty handed but I have to be sure. You must understand this.”

Zacharias was shaking his head. “Harry-”

“Zacharias,” he said with finality. “You know full well that your history with the Slytherins is less than amiable. You also know I am their ally.” The grave look on the King’s face reminded Ronald of the former king James. He almost smiled. “If I am to enter into any sort of treaty with you, I have to make damn sure that you will not use me against them.”

For the first time since he had entered the room, Ronald heard Queen Cho speak out. “And how do you know they have not engineered this so that the treaty cannot be signed. You said yourself the perpetrator was caught before the general was killed.” Ron was surprised Harry'd let them know who had been attacked but let it slide.

Harry had a look of exasperation on his face. Wearily, he turned to look at The King of Hufflepuff. “Zacharias, we are done here. Again, I apologise for you journeying here for nothing, but you have to understand.” He stood. “Now, I believe we should get to dinner, though I fear now it is spoiled.




Dinner was indeed a sour affair. The sullen atmosphere was made even worse by the absence of the dancers. King Zacharias was in a foul mood, his dirty looks spanning the room and across the long table. He even glared at the house elves that manoeuvred around with trays, laying them on the tables and magically floating away empty pitchers of wine.

Harry sighed and sat back. He was not quite sure how to handle the situation, as this would be the first time he was in it. He’d not had to be so cautious when agreeing to aid Slytherin. Nor had he when the two domains signed their own treaty of peace. He knew that to enter into an agreement with Zacharias, he’d have to do so for Slytherin too. He just wasn’t comfortable enough to go along with it if it meant he was also signing their death warrants at the same time. Slytherin was sacred land, caution was critical.

Fed up, he stood, bowed to his mother and excused himself from the table. He was hardly hungry and it wasn’t as if there was any entertainment to keep him there. He spared a thought for the young man he’d seen in the courtyard earlier in the day. He regretted that he may not see him dance. He’d been looking forward to it.

Even through the dark of dusk Harry could easily find his way to the stables. The path had been ingrained in him since he was younger. His footsteps took him directly to his stallion. Godric was his father’s horse. He was getting old now but he wasn’t too old for a stroll around the castle. He located the saddle, bypassing two thestrals Seamus had been looking after for him. They’d arrived with the carriage the Slytherin Prince would have come in. One of them had been shot in the wing with an arrow and, for a while, hadn’t let anyone near it long enough to help get it out. It nearly broke Harry’s heart to see it in such pain. Eventually, Molly, their resident cook who commanded all the elves in the kitchen, had concocted a mixture she still would not tell him the contents of, and managed to feed it to the thestral. Once it fell asleep, Seamus had managed to get the arrow out and bandage the badly ripped wing.

It had taken two long years before the thestral had fully healed, so bad was the damage. Seamus now took it on frequent walks through the forest knowing the natural state and saturated magic that existed there would help it heal faster. He was aiming for flying lessons again soon. The thestral seemed to be frightened of the air above. He gave Seamus endless troubles for the five years he’d been here but Seamus showed no signs of giving up on the beast.

“Harry.”

A very heavy sigh came out of him hearing that voice. “Zacharias, not now, I am not in the mood. It is late and I wish to relieve some stress by going for a ride.”

Zacharias looked rather put out. “Fine,” he said promptly and then stood still. Suddenly, he jumped into action and grabbed a saddle of his own. “I shall go with you.” He located the nearest horse, one Harry once used to race Ronald around the castle grounds. He still hadn’t managed to beat the Empath to date. It was quite annoying. Harry paused, narrowing his eyes at the saddle of his own horse before climbing quickly onto it. “You are wary of me,” he heard and turned toward the voice, “and I understand it. But underneath everything are we not friends?”

Harry wanted to know how on earth he got that impression. He did, however, wait for Zacharias to finish. When the blond had climbed unto his horse, Harry led the way out of the stables and onto the massive grounds. “Okay, we are not. I understand that also. I have told my wife a few times that I am not the easiest man to get along with.” Harry laughed wryly. “Case in point.” A hand suddenly rested on his arm and it made Harry pause, even though his horse continued to walk. “I know I may be many things, Harry Potter, but I am no murderer. I did not order anyone killed.”

The evening was cool. It was the middle of spring and cherry blossoms were in full bloom along the sides of the road they travelled on. He kept close to the castle. It was not wise to ride out too far, especially in recent times. “It truly is beautiful this time of year.” Harry looked around and nodded. Spring may very well be his favourite time of year. “Do you often go out dressed like that?”

Harry looked down at his humble brown tunic and breeches, so unlike the clothes he usually wore outside the castle and around the town with his guards. He did not see the point of wearing such lavish clothes inside his home where he was meant to be the most comfortable. It was not as if he wasn’t known as the King. He hardly thought clothes mattered. He shrugged. “I like it. My father...” He took a deep breath. “My father and I used to go riding like this sometimes.” He smiled down at the horse. “He taught me that people tended to act differently when in the company of royalty. If they believed you to be one of them, they opened up more without fear of sanction.” He shrugged on his horse. “It is also a method of discovering treachery and conspiracy.” He smiled. “It’s how I met Ginevra, how I got my son.”

Zacharias frowned, not quite understanding. “I see,” he said, though he really didn’t. Gryffindors were hard to understand. “My father would have probably disowned me if I had affairs with a commoner.” Harry turned to him. The words were insulting but Zacharias’ tone said otherwise. “The Chang Dynasty was the best match for me.” He frowned again. “She is beautiful, though sometimes I do not understand her.”

Harry laughed. “That is not the Chang Dynasty, Zacharias, that is just women.” He shook his head. “Merlin knows I hardly understand my mother half the time. I think I shall give up on women completely.”

Zacharias grinned. “Oh, well in that case I have the perfect candidate.” Harry turned to him curiously. “You will see. He is remarkable. You would have seen him tonight if dinner had been a happier affair.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “He?”

Zacharias smirked. “Have you not seen a man dance before?”

Harry nodded. “I have. A young man named Blaise.” Though when he’d danced, he wasn’t dancing for Harry.

Blond eyebrows rose. “Ooh, he sounds exciting.”

Harry shook his head at him in amusement. “He was a dancer from Slytherin turned a servant for the royal family. He was also a close friend to their Prince.” He waited to see if mention of the man made Zacharias react.

“How good was he?” Seeing Zacharias’ lecherous grin, he rolled his eyes. Obviously not. “Come now, what’s with that face? You said it yourself.”

“I did not mean it that way.”

Zacharias laughed. “You will when you see him. Perhaps I can send him to dance for you privately.” He gestured to the moon. “Shall we return?”

Harry shook his head at Zacharias’ words. “I do not think that will be necessary. There is always tomorrow.” He sighed. “I usually ride later than this. It takes a while to work off Molly’s meals,” he said answering the latter question.

“Molly is a cook?” As Harry nodded Zacharias faced forward, pondering. “I wonder why you have a cook and house-elves.”

Harry smiled. “Molly has been with us for years. I met her when my father and I went riding into town. She saw us coming and went red. There was no one else home but she cooked us a meal fit for twelve. My father fell in love with it, hired her immediately.”

Zacharias nodded. It was a good opportunity, especially for someone in a poor family. How better to fund the rest of the family than by working for the King? “Ah, Molly. I believe I will have to steal her for myself when I leave.”

Harry watched him a mock seriousness. “I see you really do wish to start a war, Zacharias.”

They entered the courtyard laughing, the clopping of the horses ringing loud in their ears.




He had already taken off his tunic, and was readying himself for bed when a knock came at his door. Frowning, he walked toward it. It was opened by one of the guards who bowed to him. He inclined his head in return. “King Zacharias has sent you entertainment, Your Highness.” There was a smile underneath his words and Harry narrowed his eyes at it.

Entertainment?

The door opened further and Harry’s jaw felt like it had dropped to the ground. Surely the rattling he heard what the feeling of his bones quaking. It was him, the man from the courtyard but... he looked different. He was covered in gold and Harry noticed that the jingling came from the bangles on his bare feet and hands, as well as the string of small golden discs threaded around his forehead. The same trend followed along the edge of the cloth that wrapped around him. Harry wondered how it stayed there.

The man walked forward, his eyes hard and unforgiving as he stepped toward him. His hand reached up, out of the cloak and splayed fingers rested against his chest. Harry looked down, the heat from that one appendage searing his skin. His heart was racing and he knew the man could feel it. He was being pushed backward and steered until the backs of his legs hit the bed. He was pushed down to sit. As soon as he was down, the man stepped backward. There was a space now in his room he had not fully been aware of before. He wondered where it came from. The swath of material Harry now noticed was a cloak was peeled of his shoulders and...

Oh Merlin.

Harry felt his mouth dry up as the heavy gold cloth slid off, down and over a bare chest and shoulders into those soft hands he’d felt before. The cloak was thrown to him and Harry managed to catch it. His eyes travelled the length of him, clothed in only another string of gold discs laced as a belt around his hips and loose breaches that were slit on the outsides showing skin.

There was so much skin to see.

To distract himself, he looked down to the cloak. He did a double take as he stared. They’re coins. He marvelled at them seeing how the coins were attached to the cloth. They’d been pierced, a gold chain threaded through them and then sewn through the gaps of the chain to the fine silk. The material was a far cry from what he’d seen the dancer in earlier, when he’d encountered him in the courtyard.

Nothing happened. Harry looked up to see the features of that face watching him in consideration, as if he were trying to work out something particularly puzzling about him. Harry could very well say the same. It was so odd to have a man before him dressed this way that could not speak.

Harry braced himself as the blond walked up to him and waited. As he stood so close before him, Harry stared at him without censor. Smooth pale skin met his eyes first, decorated as it was in gold currency, which looked familiar but not enough to draw his attention for long, not even when they hung from his ears. There were holes in his ears, pierced as they were and he winced. That must have hurt. The top half of his hair had been pinned up, the coins going back and disappearing into it. The rest hung over his shoulders, a fine gold chain carrying the theme around his neck. He idly wondered if it were the same chain going around and into his hair.

No musicians had followed him into the room. For a moment Harry wondered how he was going to dance without music. As Harry opened his mouth to ask, the blond man stepped back again, his feet moving strategically. There was no music but, as he stepped, and the bangles sounded, and the coins clanged, Harry heard a beat that both created and followed a flow of music through his ears and movement in front his eyes. It was a marvel to see.

He did not know how long he’d stared at the man with his fluid arms and swaying hips, but when he suddenly fell onto his haunches and bowed low, Harry was not truly sure what to do. He waited for him to continue but, when the man remained on his haunches bent forward, his hands stretching forward, Harry felt a little awkward. Was he supposed to applaud? The jangle from the gold bangles on his wrists had been silenced by the wrists trapping them to the ground and Harry found himself oddly grateful for the silence and lack of distraction.

But now that he was still, Harry found the man truly maddening with all that pale skin facing him. It begged for him to touch and Harry found himself pulling his hand back as he snapped to life. The gold coins that lined his outfit pooled around his thighs and his feet.

“Do you have a name?” He was dying to know.

The tensing of muscles was seen easily since so very little covered the skin before him. He saw the flex of the sinew and it inexplicably made his pulse jump. He cocked his head frowning when he got no answer.

It was then he once again remembered the man could not speak. Not a word. Harry suddenly pondered on all the involuntary exhalations he’d heard forced out of the man as he flexed and moved his body. Would sound have replaced it if he were able? He wondered what it would have sounded like. He looked down and felt himself flush as he realised he was hardening in his own non-slit breeches. He was glad they were loose. The man, still bent over, only seemed to make him harder and he blushed wondering what the devil was wrong with him, leaving the man there so long.

“You can get up now. I apologise for having you there so long.” He felt like a fool and more of a heel when he saw the slow movements the dancer made against the stiffness in his legs. “I – um – I thank you for the dance. It was remarkable. I can honestly say I have not seen anything like it.” He made sure to smile. Perhaps his blush, which he knew had to be present (mortification did not disappear so easily), would be mistaken for delight.

The blond looked unsure and more cautious about the apparent dismissal but he bowed low anyway, accepting the cloak Harry had been using to hide himself behind slowly. He put it on, tying it securely around his neck and arranging the cloth around his shoulders. He left, only looking back once as he left through the guard-opened door, his eyes travelling Harry’s length before snapping upward sharply with narrowed knowing eyes. The door shut softly behind him.

Harry let out a heavy sigh and stepped backward until he could feel the edge of his bed. He’d not even known he was holding that in. His hand lifted the top of his laced breeches and he sighed again, his hand curling around his cock as he shook his head. This just wouldn’t do, getting hard for a male dancer that didn’t even belong to him. He could see the sway of slim hips in his minds eyes, bathed in golden coins that sparkled in candlelight and he groaned thinking of the small shuffled steps that made the metal clink harder.

While cupping and stroking his member, he could hear panting breaths as the replay in his mind had the blond turn sharply. Harry's hard cock ached in yearning seeing that arse face him, having the hips rotate in front of him. He came before he could stop himself. He lifted his hand noticing the fine trembles it had. He shook his head as he looked back up at the closed door. Perfect candidate indeed.

He was going to murder Zacharias himself.



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