Chapter Text
There was a prince named Harry. He had a mother and a father. The kingdom was mostly ran by the king but his wife would come in between tough choices. Basically, she was the tie breaker between the government and her husband’s choices.
His Mother, Anne, would always encourage what Harry would do. Which helped him learn everything he could. Anything he wanted, his mother did her best to give him just that. Harry wanted to learn piano? She got him a personal teacher. He wanted to learn how to write? Mother got Harry to write at a professional level at age eight. Harry loved Anne for doing this, and thanks her for his extensive knowledge of about everything.
One time, Harry took interest in dance. He saw how it helps build your body and how it can add to one of his many skills. So Anne signed him up for dance. She was excited he liked the arts.
“What kind of dance do you want to learn? Do you want to do jazz? Lyrical? Ballet? There’s a lot to chose from you know”
Harry chose Ballet and lyrical, knowing that would really build muscle and flexibility from it. A week later was the first class. When Anne and Harry arrived, both of them noticed that there was hardly any other boys, in fact no other boys were in his class. All there were was girls. Most of them brought a tutu and a crown. Harry thought it was weird that there was a lot of other princesses. Then he realized that the crowns are plastic and that they have no power. Harry observed everyone in the class. Most of the girls were peeking at each other like it was a guessing game of “Who will be the best”. The teacher was, once again, female. She looked surprised and happy that there was at least one male in her class. Harry then looked at the mothers. The Mothers would snicker at Harry, giving him dirty looks.
“Wow. Didn’t think children found out they’re gay at such a young age” One mother said, disgusted towards Harry.
To cut through the BS, Anne immediately beat the woman until she begged mercy and apologized. Thank god the other moms didn’t know she was the queen, for that would’ve caused a lot of drama in the kingdom. Harry continued going to the classes but every time he went to practice, all the mothers were afraid. Harry knew why. Harry thought of them were like a herd of sheep. When one mother makes it okay to make fun of a young boy for choosing to dance, all the other moms followed. But when one mom is beaten and showed that it’s not okay, the other moms obey and follow. Harry took advantage of this and walked through the class with his head up high. "This is what being king must feel like" Harry thought. The other girls took him under their wing. They didn’t see anything wrong with him dancing. Sure, ballet is typically a girly type of dance, but he was way more flexible than the other girls. They all bowed down to him. It was a great class. Too bad Harry didn’t really enjoy dance after all, so he quit.
~*~
Harry really never had friends. There was the neighborhood children, but they didn't come over or ever want to spend time with him. He was to be taught about how the kingdom and government works instead of attending public school. Harry was home schooled. He never had a problem with it. As long as he did also learned what regular students were learning too. Harry would sometimes think about not having a childhood and how sad that is. Then he’ll look out the window of his room and see the neighborhood kids beating each other. Honestly, Harry knew he wasn't supposed to live like other kids. For god’s sake, he’s The prince. The future king. He wouldn't have a regular adult life either. He would have to learn about the kingdom and how to keep it non-corrupt for when he was king.
Father was the same as Mother. Supportive. Any questions Harry had, he would ask his father. Father always gave great advice. When he was not dealing with the kingdom, Father (Des) would spend all his time with his family. Mostly Harry. You know, Father/Son bonding time. Harry was a curious kid and Des was a wise man. All the questions of a kid were answered correctly. All of them.
“Dad?” Harry asked with his hands interlocked in front of him.
“Yes, Harry?” Des said sweetly.
“How are babies made?” Harry said with a straight face.
Des furrowed his eyebrows. Harry was 9 at the time. Should he tell Harry the truth or change the subject?
Harry waited for an answer. Des took a sigh. He would tell the truth. Des took Harry and put him on his lap. He looked down to Harry.
“A girl and boy must have intercourse. If they’re lucky a zygote, egg and sperm combined, would be formed. Then later on, the baby might continue growing along the uterus of the mother. Then it’s a fetus, with a heartbeat and organs. Then when nine months pass by, the mother must give birth to it. A doctor would be there to help guide it out of the mother. Then they see what gender it is. They name it and take care of the child until they are ready to go out on it's own.”
Harry had a frozen expression. Father cringed. He should've told the stork story. Harry might be a bright kid but telling him the truth maybe wasn’t a great idea. Des always despised how parents lied to their children. Supporting the “Santa Claus” mumbo jumbo , and all the other fairy tales children are told but are meant to learn the truth when they grew up, would just continue on the “tradition” and let companies make a cheap dollar out of everyone. Father was surprised when Harry embraced him.
“Thank you” Harry said with his face buried in his father’s sweater.
Des released the breath he was holding. Harry did understand after all and luckily wasn't scared.Harry ran down the way-to-long stairs to tell Anne.
“Hey mom! Guess what? I know how babies are made” Harry exclaimed to his mother
Anne loved the smile on Harry's face, “That’s great! Tell me again, how are they made?”
Let’s just say Anne's smile faded and did not expect the answer she was given.
~*~
Anne stormed upstairs. Her heels hitting the hard wood stairs so loud it echoed around the castle.
“Honey? Guess what Harry just told me?” Anne said with a obvious forced smiled hiding her pissed expression.
Anne usually was calm and nurturing, but when she’s pissed, expect the worst. Des gulped. He knew what his wife was bickering about.
“Is it about science life?” Des said, chuckling a bit. Sarcasm was the only way he can hid him being afraid.
“Yes, it is” Mother said with her teeth clenching “Harry knows how babies are made”
“Well, isn't that great” Father said sarcastically
Mother went on full on rage, “WHY IN THE HELL DOES OUR SON KNOW ABOUT SEX AND THE PROCESS OF CHILDREN?! HE'S ONLY BLOODY NINE!”
“Well, honey”, Des said knowing it will piss his wife off even more, “You know I don’t like phony stories. Our son deserves to know the exact truth.”
Anne unclutched her fists. She rubbed her temples repeating "stay calm" to herself. She sat down on Their bed. Des rubbed her back soothingly, like it was a apology about getting her mad.
“Sorry I raised my voice. I should’ve known you would do this.", she said turning to Des, "I’m over reacting. Harry seems fine knowing the truth.”
Des grabbed Anne in his arms. She laid her head against his.
“You did over react a little” Des said holding up his fingers showing a little amount. Anne lightly punched Des in his shoulder.
That was the great thing about Harry’s parents. They understood each other and did what was best for him.
~*~
Harry would get bored of his castle. He spent most of his time on the internet. It was fun going on omegle and putting in "Prince Harry" for the interests. Girls would go on and on fantasying about marrying him and becoming the next queen. After about ten minutes, Harry put his webcam on and revealed they were talking about him all along. Then they either a)logged out immediately and harry laughing so hard he was about to cry, b)squeal so loud it defend him, or c) laugh or chuckle with harry. Sometimes he would jokingly say "Will you marry me?".
When he got older, Harry would sneak out of the castle. Which was a challenge itself because he was the second highest window from the ground. After many attempts of failing, he figured out how he can climb down the side of the castle. He would put his left foot on the stone sticking out of the castle. Then he put his right foot on the ledge. Once he gained balance he would do a swift motion of putting his left foot on the ledge and release his hands from his window sill. Four minutes later of side shuffling, he would reach his parent's balcony. Depending on his timing he would wait for them to leave the room or they weren't there. He climbed over the railing, walked across, then jumped over the railing still holding on to it. Then he would put his feet on the nearest tree branch. Then the rest was a piece of cake. He would fling his long limbs over the branches, pull himself down, and reached the space where all the branches connected. Harry would sit down, close his eyes and feel the wind flowing through his hair. Harry didn't get enough excuses to leave so he always appreciated the weather when he did.
Sometimes he wouldn't even feel like going out. He would spread his legs and put his arms behind his head. They house servants would go looking for him and he would jump down and go into the back yard. "There you are" They would say. The tree hangout was his secret and didn't want them to find out about it. If they did, how would he sneak out?
When he did go out into the town, he would go into the outlets. The walk there would be about 10 minutes. The entrance would have the occasional street performer. Harry would stay and listen to their songs. They always would get so into it. You could see their bearing souls pouring out from their fingertips strumming guitar and their lyrics. It was their passion that always got Harry. He would leave a 20 dollar tip. The performers would look so grateful, "Thank you, bless you". "Not a problem" Harry would say. Then he would run away before they realized they were talking to the prince.