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Chapter Text

Hey so just to explain. I've recently been obsessed with Cap Red's King Who Lived fic and since it was discontinued years ago, I wanted to try and continue it. I probably won't follow a plot, or just a loose one, because I mostly have separate scenes in mind rather than a thought-out storyline. 

But here's context: 

Basically, Harry's parents are alive and have survived Halloween 1981 but have ignored him since he was a child, favouring his twin brother Chris, who defeated Voldemort as a baby, and his little sister Glory, who is the first Potter girl in several generations. While his siblings went to Hogwarts, Harry had to go to Beauxbatons, where he befriended Fleur and by association Krum. 

Because the Wizarding World has a tradition of Light and Dark, it is unbalanced without a monarch to arbitrate between both side. That is why every teenage witch and wizard goes through a Ritual to determine whether they are the long-awaited monarch. Harry goes through the Ritual and is found to be the King, the first one in a thousand years. As he becomes acquainted with his new role, he must deal with his parents trying to control him as well as the Ministry. 

Luckily, three families are sworn to him as his seneschals, and he can be assured of their loyalty: The Weasleys, the Diggorys and the Malfoys. 

Harry is also forced to transfer to Hogwarts for his fifth year and beyond. 

Things of note are: 

- Cap Red was trying to put the plots of books 3 to 5 in their fic, so Umbridge is the DADA professor, but the Triwizard Tournament is happening and Sirius has escaped Azkaban. Harry and his siblings were chosen as additional champions, meaning Hogwarts now has four instead of two.

- Cap Red sorted Harry in Hufflepuff but I think he'd actually still be in Gryffindor, even though he hasn't lived the same life. 

- The original fic ended when Harry was in the middle of the first task, which was modified to be a hunt in the Forbidden Forest. There is another fic that continued that one (only one chapter), in which Harry encounters Sirius in the forest and learns the truth. My fic starts when he gets back from the task and deals with what he learnt. 

-> That fic's called "Antoher King Who Lived" by MagmiaFlare on fff.net (Another King Who Lived, a harry potter fanfic | FanFiction)

I would really recommend reading Cap Red's fic first as it is amazing and you won't really understand mine without the context. 

But I do hope you enjoy it!

Chapter Text

When he returns from his first task, Harry is exhausted but he caught the beast. No one knew where he was cause his camera got destroyed when he fell in the fairy circle. Sean and Sirius were able to help him undiscovered and he killed the beast a week into the task. He went to bed exhausted and woke up to a royal breakfast on his nightstand. Ron sat on an armchair next to his bed and smiled at his confused face.

“Good afternoon your Majesty, how are you feeling?”

“Groggy.” Answered Harry. “What time is it?”

“It’s two pm, sire. But I ordered you some breakfast, I thought you might be hungry when you woke up.”

“Thank you Ron. What day is it? I think I lost track.” Harry chuckled awkwardly.

“Monday, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t you have classes then? And I thought I told you to call me Harry in private?”

“Sorry Harry, force of habit.” Ron grinned. “I’m watching over you, so I don’t have to go. Someone has to make sure you’re properly rested after all!” He joked.

Harry pulled a face at that but didn’t comment. Instead, he started eating, offering to share with his friend who enthusiastically accepted.

They ate in silence for a bit before Harry asked after the other champions. Ron told him that Krum had come out just this morning and was sleeping, while Chris had to yield when he got attacked by a pack of pixies. The Weasley boy said that last part snickering, and Harry smiled, imagining the scene.

“The others are still in and are not doing too bad” Continued Ron. “Even Glory. I think she’s decided to wait for the task to end. We can go watch them this afternoon, when Your Majesty’s rested enough.”

Harry sent him a look at the address but agreed with him, relieved that his friends were alright.

They finished breakfast and were starting a game of chess that Harry didn’t have any hope of winning when Chris came barging into the room and paused, looking surprised to see him.

“You’re awake then.”

“Yes?”

“Good.”

He then turned on his heels and left without another word, leaving Harry and Ron feeling confused. But it did make Harry realise that he was in the private room he shared with his brother and the reason for that came back to him. Sirius Black. Who was innocent. Who had helped him win his task. And not die in the process. He sat up.

“Ron?”

“Yes your… Harry?”

“I discovered something while in the forest and I need advice. It’s somewhat to do with Voldemort.” He ignored the flinch. “I’d ask for my seneschals but Lucius was a Death Eater. I’m not sure I can trust him with that.”

Ron suddenly turned serious at the mention of the Dark Lord. He answered. “Lord Malfoy may or may not have willingly been involved with You-Know-Who, Harry, but he swore an oath to you that surpasses any previous or future vow to anyone else. As much as it pains me to say so, I think you can trust him. But if it’ll ease your worries, I suggest confiding in a smaller number of people at first. I’d say Cedric, Draco and me. Maybe even Hermione. She’s smart she’ll be able to help.”

Harry took his speech in stride but remarked: “Draco’s a blood purist.”

Ron let out a short laugh. “I wouldn't be so sure sir, not after that reprimand the other day.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna let him insult Hermione!”

“Damn right, you shouldn’t!” Then Ron seemed to realise that he was still speaking to the king. “Sorry your Majesty, what I meant is I completely agree with how you handled it. Malfoy got what was coming for him.”

Harry laughed at his friend’s outrage. “Nah, you’re right.” Then, remembering what they were discussing, he turned serious. “Would you get Hermione and Draco, please? This is too urgent to wait for Cedric. I’ll get dressed and meet you in my office.”

He got out of bed as Ron bowed and turned to leave.

****

Twenty minutes later, Harry was dressed and ready. He stepped out of his room and into his office, where Ron, Hermione and Draco were already waiting. They all bowed to him as he greeted them and took his seat, gesturing for them to do the same. When everyone was settled, Draco broke the silence:

“I am glad to see your Majesty rested. Might I express my feelings of extreme relief at the knowledge that your Royal Person” There, you could hear the capital letters. “is safe and sound, my Lord?”

Ron snorted. “Well, that’s a mouthful. Although I completely agree with the sentiment.” He hurried to add.

Harry had to suppress a smirk at the glare Draco was sending his friend. Instead, he thanked them both and started.

“I asked you here because there are some things I need to share with you. Things I discovered during the first task. Before I tell you, you should know that it must stay absolutely secret. Which reminds me. Muffliato!”

When the spell was cast, he turned back to his friends. “I know that as my seneschals, you are bound to keep my secrets. But Hermione, you made no such oath. Will you keep the secret?”

“Yes of course, Harry.” The girl answered. “But what is it?”

Harry drew a deep breath and told them about his encounter with Sirius and Seamus and the revelations they made. When he came to how Peter had framed Sirius by faking his death, he looked at Ron and said “I’m not sure whether that part is true, but Sirius believes your rat to be Pettigrew. He saw the picture of us all in the Prophet, and Scabbers was with you. Sirius noticed he is missing a finger.”

“What?!” Exclaimed the redhead. “Scabbers?? But he’s just a rat! Plus, he’s been in our family for ages, there’s no way he’s human!”

“How old is that rat, Weasley?” Interjected Draco.

“I don’t know. Maybe as old as me? He was Percy’s before being mine.”

Pointed silence filled the room, as Ron realised what his words implied.

“We still need to verify that story.” Sighed Harry. “Maybe Sirius was mistaken.”

“Well then, go get him Ron, and we’ll test him!” Said Hermione.

That caught Draco’s attention. “Are you out of your mind, Granger?! You’re suggesting bringing an alleged criminal in His Majesty’s presence?”

“We don’t know if that’s true!” Cried Ron. “Harry, are you even sure Black was telling the truth? He is the escaped murderer after all.”

The use of the King’s first name had Draco bristling but he held his tongue. Harry for his part, patiently explained “I told you Ron, he drank veritaserum before telling me everything. I’m certain it wasn’t faked.”

“Wait but Harry, if your parents knew about the switch, how come they didn’t fight to clear him?” That was Hermione, looking for gaps in the story. “And I saw how you and your siblings reacted when news of his escape reached you. You were terrified. Why did they raise you to be scared of him if they knew him to be innocent?”

That left Harry a bit stupefied. “You were watching us?”

“Of course, you’re my friend and I was worried about you!”

She offered him a smile, which he tentatively returned, warmth spreading through him at the idea of having a friend at Hogwarts. So far, he had only been certain about Fleur and Viktor’s intentions, as they’d been his friends before the Ritual. Sure, his seneschals were friendly but how much of that was their sense of duty rather than them liking him? And he had no way of knowing other people’s motivations for befriending him. He’d felt lonely since starting at Hogwarts, even though he was almost never alone. But now was not the time for such musings. He shook himself back to business.

“I have no explanation for my parents’ behaviour and I’d very much like to get one. Sirius thinks their memory might have been affected by their injuries that night, but in the meantime I need to clear him of all charges without causing an uproar. How do I do that?”

Draco, ever the politically sensible one, answered. “Your Majesty needs to be delicate in how you handle this. We need to build a strong case with irrefutable proof, otherwise they will think you mad if you declare him innocent.”

“But how do I get such proof? Everything is in his mind, my parents’ and Petti… Pettigrew! We need to know whether Scabbers is him or not. Ron, I’m sorry for your pet but would you get him now please?”

Ron made to obey, but Draco stopped him. “I beg Your Majesty to reconsider this course of action. If what Blacks told you is true, then the rat is clever and if he suspects anything before we are able to restrain him, then he might escape or worse, hurt you, my Lord.”

Ron slowly sat down again. Harry sighed. “You’re right Draco. But I can’t bear to think of Sirius barely surviving in the forest, hiding from those would have his soul sucked out without a thought of trial.”

“Without a trial?” Frowned Hermione. “But that’s illegal! Don’t tell me he wasn’t tried?”

“He wasn’t.”

“That’s a violation of human rights!” She sputtered, affronted. “He should get a trial!”

Something lit up in Draco’s face and he looked at her, thoughtfully. “You might yet have a few good ideas, Granger.” Harry sharply looked at him in warning, but waited for the Malfoy boy to continue.

“Maybe Your Majesty should ask for Sirius Black to be tried. Granger is right, sire. Black wasn’t tried and that’s illegal. It would thus be completely legitimate for you to order his trial, as well as an investigation into the Ministry to figure out how this could happen and whether other prisoners are in the same situation.”

Hermione perked up. “That’s a good idea! Although it’ll still be controversial. And it will take time. We need to organise his defence, gather proof… I’ll do research, find out more about wizarding laws…”

“Hermione” interrupted Ron, “slow down,, let’s decide on a plan first. What do we do about Scabbers/Pettigrew? That’s the urgent question, he’s a danger to you Harry.”

After thinking for a minute, Harry answered. “We need to take him by surprise. Trap him where he can’t escape either by magic or his animagus form. Do you know any spells like that Hermione?”

“No, but they certainly exist, so I’ll research them.”

“Great thanks, Hermione. Where should we trap him, though?”

“Your office is a private enough place if we ward it.” Suggested Ron. “You could ask your siblings to leave, too.”

Harry snorted “Doubt they’ll listen, but I can try.”

“So we prepare Mr Black’s defence, research spells to trap Pettigrew and when everything is ready, we trap him, have your guards arrest him and then prove Mr Black is innocent.” Summarised Hermione.

“Yes, that’s the plan. Until then, business as usual with Scabbers, Ron. He can’t suspect anything.” Ordered Harry.

“I’ll try my best” the redhead agreed.

For the past few minutes, Draco had been listening to them a bit dumbstruck by their way of making plans. It was as if they were all used to such endeavours and had a system worked out between the three of them. Of course, with Hermione’s instincts to research everything, Ron’s past of defeating the Dark Lord and Harry’s neglectful homelife, they were all used to fending for themselves by this point and it seemed natural to pool their talents together. Malfoy, however, had none of these inclinations and their plans stunned him a bit. He seemed to wake up at that point, though, and said, sneering a bit.

“How about we tell the adults and they’ll help us come up with a plan that doesn’t involve putting the King in grave danger?”

For a second, silence was absolute. They hadn’t even considered asking for help from an adult. Then Harry asked: “What do you suggest?”

“Your seneschals, sire.  We are all sworn to you, but your head seneschals have more experience than us school students” Malfoy emphasised the last point. “My father in particular is great with spellwork as well as legalities. I suggest that you summon him, my Lord.”

The mention of spellwork and Lucius Malfoy reminded Harry of his suspicions about the man.

“Your father might be sworn to me Draco, but he was also a Death Eater. Surely he knew Pettigrew was one too and thus I wonder why he didn’t see fit to inform me of that when Sirius escaped and we all thought he was coming after my family and me.”

Draco had frozen at the mention of his father’s past, but he answered slowly, his head high as if used to such allegations. “I cannot tell you his reasons for not mentioning it, sire. Maybe he didn’t know. But I suggest you summon him and ask him directly. Before you do so, though, I beg Your Majesty to keep in mind the oath he swore on his magic to keep you safe and serve you in any way that you see fit. My father was imperiused and forced to serve the Dark Lord, but even were he not, his first loyalty is to you alone. Has he not proven worthy of your trust already, sire?”

When Draco finished, Harry stayed silent for a few seconds, pondering his seneschal’s words and feeling a bit daft for having expressed doubts in the first place. “You’re right Draco, I apologise. I should have trusted your father who did prove trustworthy over the past few weeks. Will you summon him now? And Ron, your father as well? You can both use the fireplace, it’s connected to the floo network. Amos must be at Hogwarts watching Cedric, get him to come too please.”

Draco, who seemed mollified by the apology, got up, bowed and left through the fireplace, soon followed by Ron, while Hermione went to fetch Amos Diggory in the Tournament crowd.

***

Waiting for them, Harry started pacing the room. His mind was twirling with thoughts, about Sirius, Pettigrew, his parents’ behaviour, the Tournament, Lucius Malfoy, and his kingship. The recent revelations and the myriad of unanswered questions that came with them were starting to make him feel a bit paranoid. For all he knew, his parents had been lying to his siblings and him their entire lives! Of course, he reminded himself bitterly, it wouldn’t be the first time they’d done so, considering his father had promised to stop ignoring him and proceeded to do exactly that the following morning and ever since. But lying about an escaped prisoner was way bigger than pretending to care about your child, and it would cause such a scandal he couldn’t even imagine the repercussions…

His thoughts were interrupted when Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the fireplace, followed by his son. He strolled over to where the King was standing, dropped to one knee, kissed his hand and rose back up again. Harry mentally made a face. He wished people would stop doing that. Kisses were gross and the kneeling made him feel awkward. However, he pushed those thoughts to the side while he greeted Lord Malfoy, as Arthur Weasley and Ron arrived through the floo, and Hermione was leading Amos Diggory into the office.

When they were all settled in chairs, Harry brought the adults up to date with the situation which prompted a stunned silence from them when he was finished. The teenager used it to bluntly ask “Why didn’t you tell me, Lord Malfoy? That Pettigrew was a Death Eater. Surely, you knew?”

That woke Draco’s father up from his contemplation. “I… Didn’t know, sire. I may have been part of the Dark Lord’s followers, albeit unwillingly, but I never saw Pettigrew at any meeting. Neither have I seen Black, now that I think of it. The Dark Lord must have wanted to keep his spy’s identity a secret.”

The explanation made sense, especially seeing as Harry’s own parents never told their own side about the switch in secret keeper. Every side of the war must have kept their secrets close so as not to get betrayed. Well, history is ironic in this sense. He was about to say so when Hermione suddenly interrupted him, exclaiming. “Won’t they send Black to Azkaban for being an unregistered animagus, even if we clear him of the murder charges?!”

At that, Ron groaned. “We can’t even hide it, cause Scabbers -I mean Pettigrew- is bound to spill everything.”

“Your Majesty, if I may?” That was Lucius. Harry nodded, expressing both permission to speak and acceptance of his earlier explanation. “As king, you have the power to pardon criminals… Once the truth is out, and it is known he is innocent, you might then pardon him for being unregistered.”

“All that is well and good Lucius, but we need to do something about the murderer hiding in my son’s room.” Interjected Arthur Weasley.

Amos Diggory vigorously nodded. “Quite right, Arthur, you’re quite right. We can’t allow him to escape. Might I suggest we design a trap of some sort and then send young Ronald here to get Pettigrew?”

“You’re not sending my son to face a criminal on his own!” Cried Mr Weasley.

“Yeah, once was enough” mumbled said son.

Harry was about to suggest he go with his friend, as Scabbers knew him, when he remembered his brother’s invisibility cloak. He explained his idea to the others and thus it was decided that Arthur would go with his son, hiding under the cloak. Harry went to get it, searching through his brother’s trunk, and gave it to a dazzled Arthur. It was the first time he’d seen such a cloak, which prompted the King to remind them all that it was a family secret to not be spilt. Then Ron and his father left the room, leaving the other five to lay the trap.

Because they’d decided to do it in the room, the students stood to the side as Lucius and Amos levitated the furniture out of the way and proceeded to draw a magical circle in the middle, that would prevent the use of magic and act as a temporary prison for the rat.

When they were finished, and as they waited, Amos suggested that only he and the other two adults partake in catching Pettigrew, but the two Gryffindors point blank refused, just as Draco was making to leave.

“I want answers,” said Harry. “I’m staying whether you like it or not. And good luck making Hermione leave.” The girl stubbornly nodded.

Amos had to concede but didn’t seem too happy about it. “Very well, Your Majesty, as you will. But I ask that you let Lucius, Arthur and I handle the complex parts, sire.”

Harry smirked. ‘Sure, I’ll let you handle Fudge and Professor Dumbledore.”

“They won’t say anything, if the fools know what’s good for them”, declared Draco, rather pompously.

“The headmaster is not a fool, Malfoy”, reprimanded Hermione.

The blond was about to answer when the door opened and in got Ron and Arthur, who was pulling off the invisibility cloak. The boy went straight into the circle while everyone got their wands out, suddenly very serious. The redhead put a hand in his pocket and retrieved a sick-looking rat. He put it down on the ground, and with a wave of Lucius’ wand stepped out of the magical container. Immediately, all three adults pointed their wands at the animal and said in unison “Homorphus!”. As soon as the spells hit him, the rat began to change, and a moment later a short, rat-like man sat before their eyes.

“Harry! You look just like your father!” he exclaimed, rather randomly, in a pleading tone. “He was my best friend, you know?”

Unfortunately for Pettigrew, this claim did not make him appear sympathetic, quite the opposite in fact. Harry immediately felt anger rise in his chest. He may not like his parents, but if there was a time he was indeed a Potter, it was when the events of Halloween 1981 were mentioned. This traitor claiming to be his dad’s best friend when he had betrayed him made Harry see red. He lunged towards the nervous man, making him cower in fear. At the last minute, Arthur managed to grab the boy and prevent him from stepping into the circle, but Harry still started shouting.

“How dare you behave as if nothing happened! As if you’re not the reason my whole family is traumatised and my brother had to kill someone when he was only a baby! You fucking framed Sirius, he went to Azkaban in your stead! Everyone thinks he’s a criminal when you’re the traitor!”

Harry’s eyes were flashing, and an aura of magic had started to develop around him. Arthur, sensing the urgency called on him to calm down, lest he injure someone with accidental magic. Fortunately, the young man heard him and saw reason. He stopped struggling to reach Pettigrew and stepped back from Arthur’s embrace. His whole demeanour changed at once, going from uncontrolled anger to controlled coldness. His voice was icy when he next spoke. “Explain yourself.”

But Pettigrew, scared from the display was cowering and repeating nonsense phrases stating both that he was ‘so sorry’ and innocent. He wasn’t making any sense nor did he seem like he was about to confess.

“He won’t say anything if we don’t force him to, Your Majesty. We need veritaserum.” Stated Amos, carefully.

By now, Harry had completely recovered from his bout of anger and seemed a bit at a loss as to what to do. Luckily Hermione wasn’t. “Professor Snape must have some in stock. Maybe we could ask him? Not sure if he’d say yes, though. He doesn’t seem to like Harry very much.”

Lucius nodded “Yes, he would have a vial or two in his cabinet. I do hope his personal inclinations will not stop him from obeying his king.” Both phrases were heavily accented. He continued “Might I suggest avoiding both the Headmaster and the Minister, Your Majesty? I do not trust either of them, and we might need to review Pettigrew’s testimony before it gets out.”

Harry raised an eyebrow “You don’t trust Professor Dumbledore?”

“No sire, the man has the propensity to follow his own plans without regard to their consequences on the people surrounding him, and as they are often held close to his heart, I have no way at present of knowing whether they follow your interests.” Admitting to not knowing something was jarring to Lucius, but the King needed to be aware of how powerful Dumbledore was, so as not to be manipulated by him.

His words immediately added another line to Harry’s mental list of worries, but he nevertheless headed them and agreed to send for Snape only. As the adults all refused to leave, in case danger appeared, Draco was the one to fetch the potion master.

They came back about twenty minutes later, the silence in the room only broken by Pettigrew’s plea for mercy, although that only made the others scorn him the more. But then, Severus Snape stepped into the room, and the first words out of his mouth were “Well then if it isn’t Potter’s lapdog!”

Chapter Text

Harry immediately took offense. “He’s not my lapdog! How dare you say that, that man betrayed my family!”

Snape turned toward him, as if noticing the King’s presence for the first time. “Apologies, your Majesty, “ that bit came out from between gritted teeth, “I was referring to your father, James Potter.” The name was spit out with so much disdain, Harry almost asked why. It wasn’t every day he met someone who disliked James Potter. It made him wonder if Snape could somehow see beyond the perfect façade his family put up for the world.

Coming back to the issue at hand, he simply nodded at the potion master before telling him ‘We have need of veritaserum, professor. You recognise the man before you, you know he is supposed to be dead. We know why but I’d like Pettigrew to talk and confirm it.”

Snape’s face betrayed none of his emotions, as usual, but he took a vial out of his robes and started toward the prisoner.

“Severus, stop.” Ordered Lucius. With a wave of his wand, Pettigrew was suddenly tied up and forcefully brought to the edge of the circle. “So you don’t breach the magic”, he explained. Snape nodded and poured the potion down the rat’s throat who, seconds later, started speaking. Although he was obviously trying to resist, fighting against his chains, he didn’t have the willpower to prevent the veritaserum from working.

He told them everything. How he had gone to Voldemort in the year preceding his downfall, how he had spied for him and given him the location of his best friend’s family. He told them how he tricked Sirius and escaped incarceration by hiding with the Weasleys, until now. When he finished, he slumped to the ground, fainting from exhaustion.

Meanwhile, the reactions in the room were varied. Hermione and Amos looked shocked, Harry, Ron and Arthur were fuming and the Slytherins looked as though a whole bunch of things suddenly made sense to them. Then, sensing Harry’s anger, Lucius came back to reality and took charge, once again. “Well, this raised more questions than it answered, but we now have grounds on which to prove Black innocent. Here’s what I suggest we do. Bring Aurors in to arrest him, but summon Fudge and Dumbledore to witness it. They won’t be able to hear his testimony today, but they’ll know he is alive. When he is secured in Azkaban, we can proceed to plan for his trial.”

Listening to his seneschal made Harry realise that for once in his life, adults were on his side, using their experience for his benefit rather than his family’s. He calmed down and was about to agree when Arthur spoke up. “Do you not think the boy’s parents deserve to know the one who betrayed them is alive and that Sirius Black, their best friend, was innocent all along?”

“What I think, Arthur,” started Lucius slowly, “is that you keep forgetting the King is not a boy you can treat like one of your sons.”

The Weasley father had turned red and was about to answer when Harry -who had appreciated his parenting on occasion- cut in. “I’ll let them know when he is in Azkaban. I want to know why they didn’t fight for Sirius.”

They thus agreed and they sent Draco to fetch Fudge and Dumbledore, while Harry, Ron and Hermione went to wait for them in the living room, leaving the adults to tend to the traitor.

Hermione was looking inquisitively at her new friend. “Are you alright Harry?”

“Yeah ma… Sire, that’s a lot to take in” Ron chipped in.

Instead of answering, Harry laughed at his slip. “You can call me mate, you know.”

Ron’s eyes almost jumped out of their sockets. “But you’re the King!”

“Yeah and your friend.”

Before the redhead could answer, Hermione interrupted them. “You’re avoiding my question Harry. How are you?”

Harry signed. The truth was, he didn’t know how he was. He felt angry, but also confused and hopeful all at once. A part of him also felt afraid of what his parents seemed capable of. He said as much aloud, not taking in their worried faces when he mentioned distrusting his own parents. Instead, he mused to himself that if Sirius were freed, he might love Harry like a father is supposed to. He thought that maybe he’d be allowed to live with him and finally be free of his family.

“You really think the Duke and the Duchess would let their best friend rot in prison for fourteen years?” asked Ron in disbelief.

“I… Don’t know. I know nothing, apparently, these days!”

Before he could further express his frustration, the door opened, revealing Draco leading Dumbledore and Fudge in. They all stopped short upon seeing Harry and bowed, some more elegantly than others, the boy noted. He almost laughed out loud, the Minister’s bow was proportional to his joy at Harry’s existence. However, he kept this observation to himself and greeted them properly.

“Your Majesty, I am glad to see you rested. I would say you did splendidly in your first task.”

“Yes, is that why you called us here? So we could see you awake?” interjected the Minister with the air of someone who has more important things to do with his time. Harry reigned his own impatience in and answered politely. “Thank you, professor. I called you both here because I just ordered the arrestation of someone long believed to be dead, who is very much alive and kept restrained in my office. I need you both to bear witness to these facts.”

Dumbledore immediately adopted a serious expression, but Fudge reacted like a child who’d been forced to share their toys. “You can’t order arrests, that’s undemocratic!”

Harry was unfazed. “Like the Ministry ordered that of Sirius Black, fourteen years ago? Besides, I thought my word was law. What’s democracy to do with it?”

“Of… Of course, your Majesty, but you must understand there must be a balance, as with everything. If you act as though you have seized power already, the Ministry will lose its authority and will be unable to act in your stead, as you have asked us to do.” Fudge scrambled to answer but seemed satisfied with his excuse. Harry, however, wasn’t.

“Minister, as King, I am the balance. I exist to keep the peace between the Light and the Dark, and I am doing exactly that by arresting Peter Pettigrew.” He’d hoped mentioning that name might stir the conversation away from the power struggle, and he wasn’t disappointed.

Fudge was gaping. “Pettigrew is dead and a war hero! Why would you dishonour his memory like that, foolish boy?!”

“Enough! I will tolerate no further disrespect from you, Minister. I am the King and you should do well to remember it before I lose patience!” Harry snapped. “Now, if you’ll follow me and see for yourself that I am not spouting false tales.”

He turned away and entered his office, not waiting for any of them. He still caught Draco self-satisfied smirk at seeing his etiquette lessons paying off, and Ron and Hermione slightly stunned expressions. He himself hid his own amused smile, although still irritated by Fudge’s idiocy.

***

The Aurors had taken an unconscious Pettigrew in front of a flustered Fudge and a worried Dumbledore. Although Lucius wasn’t certain what he was worried for, if he was at all and not pretending to be. If anything, Dumbledore worried Lucius with his impenetrable plans. For now, he seemed to be positively disposed toward the King, but that could change with any “wrong” move on their part. The headmaster was too unpredictable and Lucius didn’t like it one bit.

Fudge, on the other hand, was so predictable it was laughable. The man wanted to hang on to power by any means, but with Harry discovered as the King, and Lucius -to whom he owed several favours- being his closest advisor, the Minister was starting to feel surrounded. Well, let him, internally scoffed the Malfoy father, panic would lead him to make mistakes.

For now, Lucius had other things to worry about. Finding Sirius Black and securing him a safe place to hide in until he was proven innocent, drafting his defence, going through his and Pettigrew’s trials, helping the King prepare for the second and last tasks, and finally help him adjust to having to rule the whole wizarding world when he came of age. Oh and figure out the weird dynamics within the Potter family. It all seemed too strangely well-crafted to be genuine.

When Pettigrew had been whisked away Harry had dismissed everyone but Lucius and Dumbledore. He’d informed the headmaster of Sirius Black’s whereabouts, asking him if he knew a place he could hide at. Luckily, Albus knew an old school friend of Black that would be very relieved to know him innocent. He’d then taken his leave, and Lucius remained alone with his King in the living room, waiting for the Potter family to answer their son’s summons.

The King looked extremely nervous, pacing from one end of the room to the other. He was, maybe, too nervous for a boy about to see his parents for the first time in a long while. Oh well. Maybe he was just concerned about their reaction to learning their former best friend wasn’t the traitor they thought him to be. His musings were interrupted by the loud opening of the door. He turned, his wand raised and ready to defend the King, but forced himself to relax at the sight of Chris Potter strolling in like he owned the place. Of course, he did live here, Lucius remarked to himself, but Harry was still master, and the brat would do well to remember it.

“What was so urgent that I had to be pulled from doing my homework, Harry?” asked said-brat. “Not that I’m complaining, Snape -that git- gave me extra homework and I can’t be bothered to do it. Wow, what’s Malfoy doing here?”

“Lord Malfoy,” began Harry between gritted teeth, “is here because I asked him to be. We’re waiting for Mum and Dad. I have something to tell you all.”

“What about Glory?”

“I regret, but it can’t wait for the end of the task.”

Then the door to the office opened to reveal James and Lily Potter and Lucius barely fought the sneer that wanted to take over his face at this sight.

“Harry, what’s the meaning of this?”

Well hello to you too Mrs Potter. Really! A Malfoy would never exhibit such a lack of manners, even in private.

“Hello Mum, Dad. I have something to tell you, but it might shock you so please take a seat?”

Everyone sat down, the Potters not saying anything, waiting for Harry to start talking, which he did. But when he was done telling them everything, they still sat there in silence. Chris Potter, however, could not keep his mouth shut for long.

“You’re delirious Harry. You can’t have been saved by Black, he’s after our lives. If anything, he should have killed you.”

Harry reined in his irritation, understanding his brother needed time to swallow the news. “I know this is a lot to take in, Chris, but I promise you I’m not lying. Sirius saved my life, and everything he told me, under veritaserum, was verified when we captured Pettigrew. He’s now in Azkaban, and we’ll get this injustice sorted. We won’t have to fear for our lives anymore, at least not because of Sirius.”

“You mean to tell me Sirius hasn’t betrayed me? He didn’t want our family dead?” James was whispering, his face a mixture of awe, tentative hope and confusion. Harry thought it was the first time -apart from when he’d pretended to care about him after the Ritual- that he’d seen his father look so vulnerable. It made him want to reassure him, which was a strange feeling he was not used to.

“Yes Dad, he’s innocent and very much wants to protect us, not kill us. You can visit Pettigrew in Azkaban if you need proof. Or closure.” He added a moment later.

The mention of the actual traitor brought even more confusion to his father’s face. “Peter’s the traitor? But… the secret keeper was Sirius. How can Peter have betrayed us? Did Sirius torture him?”

Now it was Harry’s turn to feel confusion. “Were you not listening? Peter wasn’t tortured, he was the secret keeper and he willingly gave up that information to Voldemort. How can you not know that? You were the one to perform the spell, surely you knew who kept the secret? Sirius told me that he’d convinced you to switch.”

“Malfoy did you do something to him?”

Harry almost jumped out of his seat at the accusation coming from his mother. She looked composed, almost indifferent, as if this were an everyday conversation. Lucius for his part, let the full extent of his disdain for the Potters show when he answered.

“My Lady, I will let this accusation go as you are my Sovereign’s mother and I’ll attribute it to your worry for him. But I resent your lack of trust in Him. I assure you he is perfectly sane of mind and telling the truth. A dozen people witnessed the proof of his tale today, including Dumbledore, but if you are still unsatisfied with that, I invite you to pay a visit to Pettigrew in Azkaban. Perhaps a traitor’s word will reinforce your trust in your son.”

Wow, that was scathing. Harry was glad Lucius was in the room, because if he’d been the one to say that, he’d have been on the receiving end of his mother’s anger and that usually did not bode well for him. No, he was perfectly happy with Lucius advocating for him. Especially when it meant he could witness his mother sputtering, unused to her son talking back, even through someone else. She changed tactics.

“Harry, I don’t like what this is doing to you.”

“What are you talking about?” asked the boy, puzzled.

“Ever since you refused to abdicate, you’ve been turning into someone else, I don’t even recognise you. Talking back? Spinning wild tales to attract attention? You’ve had one taste of it and all of a sudden you want more? We’re leaving, send a letter when you’ve come to your senses and maybe then we can talk.” She then got up, kissed and hugged Chris goodbye before turning back to her other son. “We’ll see ourselves out. Come on James.” She disappeared in the office, leaving four stunned people behind her. The twins’ father then seemed to wake up a bit, although still in shock over the news. “I will check your claims and I hope for your sake that your mother is wrong. But if what you’re saying is true, then I will be in touch.” His tone clearly aimed to be assertive, but it came out soft, as if wanting Harry to be right, for once in his life. He then got up to follow his wife.

Harry was still processing his mother’s words to him when Chris softly asked “You’re not lying, are you?”

That shook his brother out of his torpor. “What would I gain in lying? No, I’m not.”

“Ok.”

“You believe me?!”

“I… believe you believe in what you are saying. I don’t know if it’s the truth, but you truly believe in it. I don’t really know you, but I’m beginning to understand you don’t seek attention. Mum is wrong there.”

Without waiting for an answer, Chris Potter got up and started toward the door. At the last minute, Lucius called out. “Your Highness.”

“Yes?”

“I trust you will keep this conversation a secret until it can be safely revealed without threat to your or your brother’s safety."

The teenager nodded once and finally left. Harry and Lucius were alone, but the King didn’t seem aware of his seneschal’s presence. All three family members had surprised him today and it was a lot to process. Well, his mother not really. She’d acted as she always did, dismissive until he became a problem. But it hurt to finally hear how little she thought of him. And she hadn’t even considered that he might be telling the truth. His brother, on the other hand, seemed to stay true to his word. He’d realised when Harry had visited him in the hospital wing that his brother was a multidimensional human being and not a silent servant. His words today were a continuation of that thought process. Harry didn’t blame him for not believing him straight away, not when he’d been raised in fear of a man he was now told was innocent. But the fact he was willing to leave room for doubt was enough to spark hope in Harry. However, his father’s reaction was the one that puzzled him the most. He seemed so hopeful, as though he wanted to believe Sirius was innocent, but couldn’t let himself hope. Also, why did he not know of the switch? Why did none of them know? Did something else happen that night that he didn’t know about? Were their memories tempered with?

He was about to share his thoughts to Lucius when the man spoke first. “Is Your Majesty quite well? These were harsh words.”

Harry smiled sadly. “It’s alright, I’m used to it.”

Lucius wanted to pursue the conversation but held himself back. It was not his place to pry into the King’s personal business. If he wanted to share something with him, then he would do so at his leisure. Instead, sensing the monarch needed rest and time to process the day’s events, he stood and bowed.

“I will leave you now, sire, but if it pleases your Majesty, should we meet again tomorrow? I should like to convene with your seneschals and decide on what is to come.”

As he always seem to do with the Malfoy, Harry had to take a moment to unravel the complicated sentence, but in the end agreed to the meeting. Lucius bowed deeply again and took his leave through the door.

Although it was only 7pm, Harry elected to skip dinner and go to bed immediately, although he couldn’t close his eyes for many hours, thoughts swirling inside his mind.

Chapter Text

Harry woke up with a groan. He’d been sleeping so deeply that he barely heard his alarm ringing. After a few minutes of wistfully wishing he could stay in bed all day, he got up and started getting ready. Today marked the 15^th day of the first task, and every champion save for Viktor, Chris and himself were still in the Forbidden Forest. Classes had been cancelled for the day to allow everyone to witness any potential win. The last time he’d been to watch, only one boar was left and Fleur and Cedric were actively hunting it, while Glory had made a makeshift house for herself decidedly not going near any dangerous animal. Harry hoped it would be over soon so this idiocy of a Tournament could move on. The sooner he was done with it, the better. He had other things to worry about and a dangerous competition that could potentially be deadly was slightly hindering his ability to focus on said other things.

On the day after they’d imprisoned Pettigrew, he’d met with his seneschals and they had all agreed that the adults would undertake Sirius’ defence, working toward getting him a fair trial. In the meantime, the escaped convict was supposed to hide out at Remus Lupin’s, a close friend of his. Apparently, Lupin had taught at Hogwarts in Harry’s third year, but Snape had outed him as a werewolf at the end of the year, making it impossible for him to return for fourth year. Dumbledore assured that he was very happy to shelter Sirius for however long he might need.

In the meantime, Harry was to concentrate on his studies and the Tournament. He had to make sure to get out of it alive, it was to be a top priority concern stressed his advisors. Of course, the King knew their job was to protect him, but it was a bit unnerving, all these adults focused on him. Their attention was proving to be challenging to hold for a boy who’d spent the better part of his life ignored by everyone save for a few friends. Nevertheless, he agreed to let them take on Sirius’ defence.

Harry was also worried about his parents. His father hadn’t contacted him since, but he knew that both he and his mother had been to Azkaban to verify his words. He wondered why they hadn’t said anything, or at least made a public statement. Because, of course, the papers had found out about Pettigrew being arrested on orders of the King, and everyone was feeling confused. Harry and anyone close to him refused to answer questions, but it was natural that everyone was feeling confused, seeing an undead man thought to be a war hero arrested on orders of the newly-appointed King. Of course, no one would dare suggest he was anything less than within his rights seeing as the Wizarding World practically worshipped the ground he walked on, but it still raised questions.

While he was musing, Harry found himself ready to go and walked out his door, only to almost bump into Viktor.

“Hey you scared me!”

“Sorry Harry. You okay?”

“Yeah, just startled. How are you?”

“I’m worried about Fleur. I know she can hold her own, but this feels like a never-ending task and I miss her!”

“Yeah I know, me too…”

Chatting about their friend, they made their way to the forest edge, where a big white sheet was spread out in the air, black and white images moving around on it. The film was currently focused on Cedric who was tracking the boar through a path it created, running through the trees. Ignoring everyone staring at them, they took their seats on the front row, on the chairs reserved for the champions. Chris came to sit beside Viktor not long after.

As the day progressed, nothing much was happening, and Harry was tuning out Chris trying to engage Viktor in a Quidditch discussion when a collective gasp made him sharply look up at the screen. There, the boar was dead, two weapons in his body, Cedric and Fleur standing over it, both looking a bit surprised to see the other. They’d managed to trap the animal by unknowingly trapping him from two sides reaching it at the same time. After a bit of silence, everyone exploded in cheers, waking both Harry and Viktor from their stupor. They looked at each other, before springing from their seats and running toward the forest, barely managing to stop as the three remaining champions were apparated before them. The Durmstrang student didn’t wait a second before engulfing Fleur in a hug, as Harry congratulated Cedric who did the same in return. When his best friends finally let go of each other, he gave Fleur a hug too, relieved to see her uninjured.

Together, they started toward the castle and Harry felt for the first time since the Tournament started, that at least something was right in his life, with these two by his side. They left Cedric and Glory to be greeted by their friends and went to Harry’s room to catch up on everything that had happened in the two weeks since they entered the forest.

Everything would be okay. Eventually.

****

As normal life resumed and Harry and the other champions went back to going to classes, the teen decided he’d had enough of living with his brother. He saw no reason now that he knew he was in no danger from Sirius and made that known to Moody who begrudgingly accepted, more because his King ordered it than because he was convinced by his reasoning. Thus, Harry went back to living at Gryffindor Tower, having even succeeded in getting rid of his guard inside his dorm, posting him outside the door. All things considered, everything was going as good as it could for him.

The end of November was coming soon, and one November morning, Harry woke up to find a commotion in the common room. Everyone was standing around the noticeboard, chatting excitedly about whatever was written upon it. Looking around, Harry spotted two read heads bent together to the side of the room, seemingly uninterested with what was happening. A smile playing upon his lips, he went toward them.

“Would you, by any chance, have anything to do with this?” He gestured to the crowd.

The Weasley twins, for it was them, jumped in surprise, before recovering and bowing to him. “Your Majesty”, they said in unison.

“Nearly gave us a fright, you did”, laughed Fred.

“But would you believe us if we promised we are in no way responsible?” George added, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“For once in their lives, they’re telling the truth!” A voice from behind them said. Harry turned to a bowing Lee Jordan, because of course it was him. “Your Majesty.”

“Jordan!” one of the twins exclaimed, “you’re ruining our reputation as mischief makers!”

“But do tell, oh dear informant, what is happening?”

At that moment, they were joined by Hermione, Neville and a sleepy Ron. Ignoring them, Jordan told the group “They’re organising a duelling tournament next week! Anyone from any school, save the first and second years, is welcome to sign up in their level group.”

The group broke into excited conversation at that, talking about their duelling experiences.

Harry felt warmth at the idea of duelling once again and, knowing Fleur was likely to sign up as well, he looked forward to facing her. He always greatly enjoyed their duels as she was a skilled opponent and he always learnt a lot from her, especially as she was older and thus more experienced.

“Do you think Fleur will compete, sir?” Ron had taken to being half formal with him, as they’d become close friends, sometimes using his name and other times titles.

“I hope so,” the young King answered, “I still owe her one from the last time she beat me.”

When saying that, he noticed Ron blushing and he laughed, understanding his friend’s crush. “You know she’s dating Viktor Krum, right?”

“Oh Sire, couldn’t you leave little Ronnykins a bit of hope? He’s been pining after her ever since he laid eyes on her!”

“Yeah, he’s properly swooning!” The twins were full-on cackling at their brother’s embarrassment but, luckily for him, Hermione changed the subject.

“You’re thinking of signing up Harry?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of a hobby. What about you guys?”

He didn’t notice the worried glance Hermione shared with his guard behind him and focused on the conversation. Soon, they were all signing their names, except for Neville and the twins. Ron and Hermione deemed themselves novices while Harry and Jordan were both confirmed duellists. Harry had been sorted as such after a particularly successful tournament involving Durmstrang and Beauxbâtons. For once, this merlinforsaken tournament had some exciting aspects.

The day went by quickly and soon everyone was meeting up in the Great Hall, were the tables had been cleared, replaced by four duelling platforms and stands on the sides so people could watch. The staff chairs were still there, although the table wasn’t, with the teachers -including Madame Maxime and Karkaroff- sat in their seats. When everyone had filed in and settled in, Dumbledore got up and started speaking.

“Welcome everybody! We are here to witness one of the challenges made to bring our three schools closer together. For this occasion, all are welcome to participate, not just the champions! As a strong number of you signed up, we have already drawn the first pairs, and by necessity, we have four venues at a time. When your name is called, please step forward and take your place on the duelling platform, facing your opponent. Each duel will last five minutes, although the semi-finals will be 8 minutes long, and the finals 10 minutes. We will start the first with beginners before going up to novices, confirmed and experienced. Then second rounds will start again with the first category.” He turned serious. “You are, under no circumstance, to use any illegal or Dark Arts spells. This is a way to show off your charms and defence skills, as taught by your schools. It is a friendly competition and I expect you to treat as such. Do not injure your classmates. This said, duelling is an art form, and I hope to see some good art today! Let’s have some fun.” He cheerily concluded.

Professor McGonagall then stood up with a parchment and started calling names in a way that reminded Harry of his Sorting. As they heard their names, beginners came up to the platforms and took their place. The Deputy headmistress then cried “Bow!” which the students did, before counting down from three, allowing them to finally start.

At first, Harry was interested in the duels, but as the duellists were mostly third and fourth years with no experience of duelling, it soon grew dull. He felt his gaze attracted to the raised platform on which the teachers sat, observing them. Umbridge in particular he studied. He hated her with a passion, but it wasn’t only her dislike of him that made him distrust her.

She had basically committed treason by knowingly putting him in danger in her classes, injuring him and insulting him to his face in front of witnesses. Growing up as he did, Harry didn’t have a big ego, but he was King. He had had to make his peace with it over the summer and now that he’d got past the initial shock, he could understand the honour Magic paid him. Although he hated the attention, he understood that his position deserved a certain amount of respect that people had to pay him. After all, he had held the King in a respect akin to reverence before his Ritual. Now that he was the King, he wasn’t about to revere himself, but he still understood that he held a role important to the Wizarding World. He might have been adamant about being treated like a normal student, but he wasn’t one, and even Umbridge knew that.

No, her behaviour was far more dangerous than simply trying to not play favourite. She had plans and he didn’t like them one bit, even more so because he didn’t know them. Even Snape had watered down his dislike of Potters and teenagers in general for him. Umbridge targeted him specifically, which did not bode well for Harry. He needed to neutralise her before she could cause harm. The problem was, he did not have proof, simply a feeling and even the King couldn’t condemn anyone on a feeling only.

Harry was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts when Professor McGonagall started calling out his friends’ names. The beginners had finished, and Ron and Hermione were to fight in the first round against a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff, respectively. Paying closer attention, Harry watched as the opponents bowed to each other before taking a duelling stance. They started.

It was obvious that the Slytherin was fumbling a bit, keeping the defensive in the face of Ron’s constant stupefy’s. Neither had much originality, but it was clear that Ron had the upper hand, maybe aided by his experience of duelling Voldemort in first year. Even with his leg he managed to avoid most spells thrown his way.

Hermione was more creative in her spells, but too perfect when she threw them. Her opponent was obviously skilled and could prepare a sound defence when he heard her enunciate her spells clearly.

“Go Ron! You can end him!” Harry jumped. The cries of support came from the Twins and Ginny who, for once, were not mocking their brother. And that seemed to do it, as a minute later, the Slytherin was thrown to the floor, his wand flying into Ron’s hand. Seconds after, Hermione also cried victory. Harry clapped loudly with the others, proud of his friends as they came back toward the stands, faces flushed with pride.

Twenty minutes later, it was his turn. As his name was called, he heard a hush settle over the Hall and groaned internally. He really couldn’t do anything without attracting attention, could he? Oh well, might as well give them a show in this case. He bowed to his opponent, one Ernie MacMillan to whom he’d spoken once or twice and who returned the favour. When the start was signalled, Harry immediately sent a stunner to him, testing the waters. Ernie simply blocked the spell with a shield and retaliated immediately. Harry jumped out of the way while sending a tickling spell followed by a dancing one in rapid succession. Both hit their target and suddenly his opponent found himself dancing while laughing uncontrollably. “I yield, I yield Sire!”

And just like that, the duel was over in less than a minute. That left Harry a bit stunned as he’d expected more challenge. Ernie was supposed to be confirmed in the art of duelling, and getting beat within 60 seconds was a mistake fit for a beginner. Oh well, he brushed it off, it might simply be because Hogwarts didn’t really offer duelling training to its students.

But as the evening progressed and people were getting eliminated round after round, Harry was getting more and more suspicious. All of his duels had been too easy, and it was starting to feel like the Quidditch tryouts. They were letting him win. He started feeling angry and was about to storm off, but then Ron lost his duel, getting eliminated in the semi-finals, as Hermione moved to the finals, due to face Ella, a classmate in Harry’s year at Beauxbâtons. The Gryffindor girl stood no chance. Harry took in a deep breath, as his name was called, alongside Viktor, Fleur and Draco. This at least should be interesting.

Harry took a step forward, passing Hermione and Ron on the way, congratulating the first and offering a consoling smile to the other, and finally made his way over to the floor. Everyone was paying attention now, these were three champions, one of which was the King, and a Malfoy. It was bound to be interesting. At least if Malfoy played his part, Harry thought, bitterly. Coming close to him, the blond bowed in greetings and the Gryffindor boy took the occasion to whisper to his seneschal.

“You better fight, Malfoy, I don’t want any half-arsed duel.”

Malfoy looked a bit shocked at the language, but quickly composed himself, a slow grin appearing on his face. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Sire.”

This reassured Harry, and as they were formally bowing to each other, he caught Fleur and Viktor doing the same in the corner of his eye. Well, at least that duel would do them good. Viktor didn’t stand a chance, of course, but winning might appease Fleur and make her forget she was angry at her boyfriend.

He didn’t have a chance to think more on it as his own duel started and Draco sent a purple spark toward him. He only narrowly avoided it and immediately retaliated. At last, a challenge! And a long one at that, their duel was supposed to last eight minutes. Oh he was finally having fun. A competitive smile made its way to his face and he started raining spell after spell upon Draco, forcing him in a defensive stance. But suddenly, Malfoy broke form and conjured a sword, quickly jumping toward the King, ready to strike. Harry hurriedly deflected the blow, momentarily having to remind himself that if Draco really intended to harm him, he would’ve dropped dead already, because of his oath. The public seemed to have forgotten about it though, as gasps could be heard throughout the room, this duel being the most aggressive Harry had had yet. He focused on his opponent and conjured his own sword, ready to retaliate. He didn’t particularly enjoy that weapon, but duelling the Delacour family always required its use, so after losing to them one time too many, he started training with it. It came in handy now, as he was able to make a strike at Draco and send a wind current toward him to destabilise him further, almost succeeding in making him fall on his ass. But the blond caught his footing and launched another offensive.

They duelled in this way for long minutes, before finally, Harry was able to disarm him, throwing his sword away and with two well-aimed spells trapped him in ropes and filled his mouth with soap, allowing the King to simply take Draco’s wand from his hand.

As soon as the duel was called off, Harry cancelled all spells and conjured a glass of water which he gave his seneschal, congratulating him on the fight.

“Who knew Malfoys weren’t simply all talk and no action?” he teased.

Draco pretended to be offended “Why, your Majesty, we Malfoys might do politics in sitting rooms, but we are skilled in any subject!”

“That I do not doubt!” laughed Harry “But well played in any case. You can fight after all, when you’re not too scared to harm the precious King.”

Draco suddenly turned serious. “I would never harm you, my Liege, and if to avoid that I need to give you an easy victory, then I will. Your life is too important to forfeit for a simple game.” He lightened his tone “Luckily, I didn’t need to do that here, you are a skilled duellist, Sire.”

Harry supposed he should stop feeling surprised every time a Malfoy made such a declaration to him, it must have been the fourth or fifth one since he’d gone through the Ritual, at least. But it always left him a bit reeling to see their loyalty to him surpass anything else in their lives.

He followed him back to the stands, mockingly congratulating Fleur, teasing her about their upcoming duel and keeping light-hearted banter with his friends.

Finally, after the experience had their semi-finals, came the time for the finals. After watching Hermione lose to the Beauxbâtons girl as he’d predicted, he marched up to the single platform in the middle of the hall, for the last time. Coming to stand in front of Fleur, he bowed deeply to her, while she did the same. A look of concentration came over both of their faces. Their duels were always a serious affair as the winner got unlimited teasing rights over the loser until the next one. Then it started.

Spells were flowing in every direction, and neither duellist stopped to catch their breath. It was an unending flow of colourful sparks that, had the platform not been surrounded by a protective shield, would have transformed half of the audience into various animals. They both knew they had an audience, but it only increased their determination to reach their usual goal of 1) crushing the other, 2) outdoing the other’s creativity, and 3) transfiguring some part of the other into an animal part. This was how all of their duels went, and their friends from Beauxbâtons knew it. They had gained a reputation of being highly amusing to watch. But the rest of the audience didn’t know and was staring, their mouths gaping, at the pair.

Neither of them noticed it, too focused on winning. Finally, after five whole minutes of status quo, Fleur managed to hit Harry, and the boy felt horns grow on his head. Instead of allowing it to distract him, he smiled ferociously, conceding the point to his friend but redoubling efforts to beat her. Swords had been drawn two minutes ago already, but he had no hope of getting through her defence, as it was spotless. Suddenly, an idea hit him. He conjured a few dozen small lizards, and as soon as they were crawling toward her, Fleur had a small moment of panic. Harry took advantage of her distraction to hit her with a spell that made a lizard tail grow out of her. He snorted. “Still not over that one, eh Fleur?”

She sent him a glare and a stinging spell which he easily avoided. A few years ago, while on holiday with her family, he and her sister, Gabrielle had spent the whole week placing lizards on Fleur’s way. They were everywhere, in her bed, her clothes, her food, and since then she couldn’t stand the creatures. The children had been quite proud of the prank.

Now, it only added fuel to the duel, and they were at it again, with a renewed vigour. So much so that both almost lost a few other times, narrowly avoiding spells. In the end, Harry managed to secure his victory by distracting Fleur by sparring with her and discreetly sending an expelliarmus her way. Even then, he had to fight her through the sword until he disarmed her, which was a first for him. This was a complete victory, and he walked away from it exhausted but proud.

Fleur begrudgingly recognised his win and accompanied him back to the stand, both chatting about how they could improve the duel. They didn’t notice the complete silence in the room until Ron loudly whispered “That was bloody amazing.”

“Uh?” Harry turned to him.

“I didn’t know you were so skilled, Harry! You too Fleur. You were both compelling to watch.” Declared Hermione.

This brought a smile to Fleur’s lips. “Thank you, Hermione. It is kind of you to say that. Although it is true. We are both very good duellists.” She added, rather pretentiously.

Harry smiled, he knew she was only trying to forget her defeat. “As much as the tail suits you, you don’t think I should banish it, Fleur? Maybe you could give the favour back by getting rid of these horns eh?”

She giggled. “You better not do such a thing again, you idiot! I almost lost my footing there!”

“Well, it was the goal, wasn’t it?”

As they all laughed and engaged in easy banter, Harry turned to watch the experienced finals, and in doing so, noticed that almost everyone was still focused on him and his friends. He finally understood that they’d not expected such a demonstration of skills from the forgotten Potter child and were flabbergasted at the duel. Harry shrugged internally. That would teach them to not underestimate anyone. And now they knew their King wasn’t defenceless, which might deter more assassination attempts at least. Eh, that was unlikely. Oh well, at least he’d won.

Harry went to bed very satisfied that night, not knowing that, miles away, a rat was getting smuggled out of prison by someone supposed to be long dead. 

Chapter Text

“What do you mean, vanished? How can the most guarded prisoner in a high-security prison vanish without a trace?”

“We do not know, Sire. Pettigrew’s cell was empty this morning and he was nowhere to be found. Although, I assure you that the Ministry is taking every measure necessary to investigate the matter, Your Majesty.”

The King was fuming, that much was clear, but the Minister didn’t seem to be noticing. He was prattling on about the subject as though they were discussing the weather, not a dangerous criminal who had a history of escaping justice. Frankly, Draco understood the King’s anger.

First, Fudge showed up unannounced at Hogwarts, demanding to see the King at once without a care for His Majesty’s schedule, barely waiting for him to be joined by two seneschals -the Weasel and himself- and then he unceremoniously dropped the news that Peter Pettigrew had escaped Azkaban two nights prior and the Aurors had no idea where he might be. That was such abysmal conduct, Fudge might not have survived if Draco were in Harry’s place.

“Why did you not inform Us immediately upon discovering it then?” the King was saying, barely containing his rage. Draco noted the presence of the royal we. Fudge did not know what was coming for him.

“We did not want to burden you with the issue before having a full understanding of the situation, my Lord, that is all.”

Suddenly, the King deflated, tiredly sighing and putting a hand to his head. “You’re right Minister. I apologise for my bout of anger, I am simply disappointed that Pettigrew managed to get away from us. I would like all your best people on the case, please. I trust your experience will help you capture him as soon as possible.” Harry suddenly raised his head, his demeanour changing completely, his eyes throwing emerald fire Fudge’s way. “Note, though, that We will not tolerate another misstep on your part, Cornelius. You may go now.”

Fudge who had considerably relaxed when Harry had admitted defeat tensed once more, his anger at being bossed around by a child balanced by his fear of said child. He bowed deeply, almost losing balance in the process, and hurried out the door.

“Why did you do that, Your Majesty?? You just lost face to him!” said Weasley, heatedly, as soon as he was out of ear.

The carrot-top did have a point, thought Draco. He had fully been prepared to pick the Minister off of the floor by the end of this conversation and so was quite surprised at the turn of events.

“I admit to being confused at Your Majesty’s change of heart.” He said aloud.

Harry was now sporting a cloudy expression, clearly displeased with the situation, but thinking so much you could almost see the cogs turning in his mind.

“He’s dangerous, even if he doesn’t appear to be. We dislike each other, that much is clear, but I want to give him the impression that I’m a child who doesn’t know what he’s doing. I don’t trust him, but he must interpret the distrust I expressed so far as a childish dislike rather actual political danger. That way, it’ll be easier to get rid of him.” The King explained.

Draco immediately understood the political implication and felt proud of his monarch who was starting to think like a ruler. Ron, on the other hand was still slightly lost.

“But why did you yield that easily but then openly threatened him if you want him to dismiss you?”

“Because”, Harry patiently explained, “He must underestimate me, but not as much as to think he can govern on his own. I will not have him hide something as important as this from me. I mean, he probably will but then I’ll at least have grounds for his arrest or something. In the meantime, he’ll forget me as a threat and that’ll lead him to make mistakes.”

A look of understanding dawned on Ron’s face. “That’s smart! But how will we know when he makes mistakes then?”

Harry darkly answered. “He needs to be investigated. Problem is, who could do it? Most of the Ministry is in his pocket.”

“Or Malfoy’s.” Ron pointed out.

Harry lit up hearing that. “Yes you’re right, Ron. Draco would your father have relations that would be useful to us in our endeavour.” Endeavour? Both Hermione and Draco must have rubbed off on him for him to use such words. Harry mentally scrunched up his nose but was saved from his thoughts when Draco answered him.

“He surely has a few favours he might call in to keep an eye on the Minister, Your Majesty, but I would actually suggest Amelia Bones for such an investigation. She’s considered the fairest head of department in the Ministry and is very keen on justice. I do not think she can be bought and would serve our purpose very well, Sire.”

“Do you think she can keep a secret?”

“I do not know her personally, my Lord, but I would venture to guess it comes with her sense of justice.”

“Mmm. How would I go about getting a discreet meeting with her?”

“She will come if you summon her, Sire.”

“Well yes, but what if she’s not free.”

Draco looked at him incredulously, and even Ron was hard pressed to keep from laughing.

“Your Majesty is the King. She will come at your behest, Sire.” Draco sounded so certain that Harry felt a bit embarrassed to have said that. He tried not to show his embarrassment and asked how he could “summon” her.

“With your permission, Sire, I would fetch my father and ask him to bring her to you. He knows her.

“Of course he does”, snorted Ron.

“But you can’t leave Hogwarts, can you?” remarked Harry, confused.

“As I am on official business for the King, I can leave the school at your behest Sire. I did it a few times already, does your Majesty not remember?” The Malfoy son answered, his chest inhaling proudly.

“Oh right. Yeah do that then, please.”

Draco bowed. “As Your Majesty commands.” He stepped through the fire, called for Malfoy Manor and disappeared into the green flames.

Harry turned to Ron. “I feel like I can never say anything right with the Malfoys. They’re always so…” He struggled to find a polite wording. “well spoken.”

Ron let out a short laugh. “Ah! More like they’re pompous gits who feel superior to anyone who cannot match their way of life. You shouldn’t worry too much, Sire, you can get your point across and it’s more than Malfoy can say.”

Harry had to fight to keep a smile from appearing on his face. He couldn’t be seen to favour a side over the other! But he had to admit Ron had a point. His blond seneschals really could appear full of themselves sometimes. Or at the very least, very proud of their heritage and worldly position. Instead of answering, the teenager changed the subject.

“Who are you taking to the Yule Ball, by the way?”

If Ron had been drinking tea, he would’ve spit it out immediately upon hearing the question. Instead, he sputtered, trying to answer. “I, uh. Mmmm. The thing is. I, uh, I received a few proposals but I don’t know how to choose? What about you?”

Harry was full on laughing now, seeing his friend struggling. He was aware of the proposals he’d received, as he’d been around for a few of them, and it made sense anyway. Ron was Hogwarts’ hero after all. But he was also an awkward teenager and taking a girl to a ball was the last thing he was comfortable doing.

“How about you just go with a friend? That way, it doesn’t have to be a date, and you’ll know her.”

“You’re right! But I don’t have many girl friends…”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “How about Hermione?”

“Merlin, she’s a girl, isn’t she?!”

“Well, as far as I’m aware, yes?”

“You’re right I can get her to come with me!”

“You might want to politely ask her first, mate.”

“Yeah of course, but oh wow I forgot she’s a girl.”

“I wouldn’t tell her that either…”

Fortunately for Harry, the exchange was soon interrupted by the floo and both Malfoy seneschals came out of it, accompanied by Amelia Bones.

When everyone had bowed and formalities were over, the head of the Auror department looked at the King inquisitively.

“Did your Majesty want a report on the ongoing investigation on the attacks on your person?”

“Um, yes maybe, but I asked you here because I have some concerns about the Minister. Before I go further, though, I need your word that you will not tell anyone about this without mine or my advisors’ express permission.”

When Bones had obliged, Harry told her -and Lucius- what had transpired a few minutes ago in his office. He then tasked her with investigating the Minister without the man’s knowledge and with the utmost discretion.

“You honour me with your trust, Sire. I would like to share with you that the Minister has already tried to impede my inquiries several times. I share your feeling of distrust in him and will do my best to meet your expectations, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you Madam Bones. Is there anything I can offer you that might help?”

“Would you be able to sign a decree granting me unlimited access to the Ministry, Sire?”

Harry stopped for a second. “That’s a whole lot of access you’re asking for. I don’t even know if I can do that.”

Lucius cut in. “You can do whatever you want, Your Majesty, in theory. The sentence ‘your word is law’ is more than just words. But I advise against it, Sire. I do not think you should sign anything that might incriminate you. Instead, I would suggest I sign the order in your stead and if the paper falls into the wrong hands, I will be able to state I did it of my own accord, thus clearing you of responsibility.”

“What?! But you’d take the blame in my stead!” Harry cried, not very eloquently.

“Yes, Sire, that is the goal.”

“I can’t allow that! I should take responsibility!”

Lucius was about to argue back when Ron cut in, for once coming to a Malfoy’s aid. “Allowing Lord Malfoy to be blamed protects you, Sire, and that is our sole aim, as your closest servants. But your word being law also means you can clear any name you like. Allow Lord Malfoy to protect Your Majesty, and you will be able to return the favour almost immediately.”

Harry knew he shouldn’t play favourites, but Ron really was becoming closer to being his, by the minute.

He agreed, and when Lucius had written the document, given it to Madam Bones and she had taken her leave, Harry relaxed in his seat, exhausted from the unending list of matters he had to attend to.

“I seem to know nothing of what my role entails.” He remarked out loud, his eyes closed. “I thought I knew what the King was for, but apparently I don’t.”

“I think you’re doing brilliantly, Harry.” Softly said Ron.

This prompted Lucius who had observed a few seconds of awkward silence to say “Your Majesty is the first King in centuries. It is absolutely natural that the world has forgotten most of your offices. Perhaps we were too severe in expecting you to know them all as soon as you were chosen. You are under an inordinate amount of pressure, and it appears to me that these expectations are unfair. I suggest you reduce your workload, Sire. I will speak with Arthur and Amos to determine how we might do that, but would that be acceptable?”

Harry had to remind himself to answer, as he was struggling to process hearing Lucius Malfoy admit to demanding too much of someone. Also, he was confused.

“I’m thankful you’re considering the stress becoming King has put me under, Lucius, don’t get me wrong, but would reducing the workload not achieve the opposite of me learning how to rule?”

“I was thinking that clearing your schedule of less important affairs, we might make time for Your Majesty to attend governing classes. I and your other Seneschals might instruct you in how to rule, in a practical but also theoretical manner. Then you would understand the full extent of your powers as well as which obstacles you might find in your way. I hear Draco has started giving you etiquette lessons. My wife, Narcissa, would gladly take over, as she taught our son everything he knows. Would that be convenient, Sire?”

Great, more lessons. And these will teach him how to talk to people, too! But Lucius was right, this was content he needed to know if he was to be a good monarch. So far, he’d just walked head straight into whichever meetings he had to attend, or papers he had to sign, and he couldn’t afford to do this anymore. So, Harry agreed to take lessons from his seneschals.

“Where should I go, though? To your house?”

Draco scrunched up his nose in open displeasure, but didn’t say anything. Harry was taken aback, though. Did Draco not like him? Malfoy senior answered that question easily, putting his worries to rest.

“While I am greatly honoured that you would grace Malfoy Manor with your presence, Sire, consider this your first lesson. As the King, people will always come to you, not the opposite. Your time is precious, and it is people’s duty to not waste it, nor should they make any demand of you. That includes summoning you anywhere. You may of course be invited places, but it is up to you to decide whether you would like to accept. Our lessons will take place wherever you are the moment. That may be Hogwarts or maybe Potter Manor over the holidays.”

Absorbing this information (so Malfoy did not hate him, he simply thought Malfoy Manor was beneath the King apparently), the teenage King absently answered “I’m staying here for Christmas, so I guess we can always meet in this office.”

“Are you not spending with your mum and dad, Harry?” Interjected Ron who had been bored of the previous conversation.

“No, I’m staying here for the holidays.” Was the short answer he received.

Oblivious to the clipped tone, Ron pushed the matter further “What about your siblings then? Are they staying here too? Are your parents away, is that why?”

“No, Chris and Glory are going home.”

There, Ron got confused. “Uh? You’re gonna spend Christmas all on your own??”

“I mean, the teachers will be here and I think a few Gryffindors are staying here too… I wont be on my own. Plus, I’ll spend New Years at Malfoy Manor. You’ll have to thank Lady Malfoy for the invitation, Lucius.”

The man inclined his head in a half bow, answering “Your Majesty honours us with your presence, we look forward to entertaining you.”

Harry, sensing Ron was about to push the subject and not wanting him to stumble upon his home life, ended the conversation there, taking his leave to get to lunch before the start of afternoon classes.

****

The following morning, Harry and his friends were eating breakfast in the Great Hall when the post arrived. Harry’s official mail was to go to his office, so he usually didn’t pay attention to it at breakfast, as he wasn’t expecting anything personal. All of his friends were with him after all. So he almost jumped out of his seat when a letter landed on his plate, and he looked up in time to see a majestic owl fly toward Draco at the Slytherin table. Intrigued, he reached out and opened the letter, his eyes scanning the text. Just as he was finishing, Ron pushed another letter into his hand, this one already opened.

“S’for you, sir.” He said, his mouth full of bacon.

Reading the words, Harry felt anger rising in his chest, bringing fear with it too. He stood up, shortly telling Ron “Come.” And catching Draco’s eye across the Hall, he gestured for him to follow them out into the corridors. The Malfoy boy immediately obeyed.

Ron was feeling very confused. Harry had barely reacted when he’d read his mum’s letter, but had lead him and Malfoy to an empty classroom near the Great Hall. He seemed angry and the redhead couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why. It couldn’t be his mum’s invitation, could it? His confusion only grew some more when the King asked them, barely containing his anger, “What did you tell your parents? I received two invitations from both of your mothers to spend Christmas at your houses! Who do you think you are, telling my business to adults?!”

Draco’s eyes had widened when he’d realised his monarch was angry at him, but Ron couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.

“I’m sorry, Sire, but I really don’t understand the problem… What’s the matter?”

It was apparently the wrong thing to say, for Harry immediately spit back: “The matter is that both of my most trusted seneschals went behind my back to tell their mothers I would be on my own for Christmas! Do you not understand the catastrophe it would be if the press got wind of it?!”

Draco, sensing Ron was about to say something stupid like “why would the press care if his seneschals invite the King to stay with them?”, intervened, bowing deeply at the waist and not coming back up as he spoke.

“Your Majesty, I cannot say how much it pains me that you feel betrayed by your servants. It was never my intention, that I hope you can believe. If I may explain, Sire?”

Harry eyed him uncomfortably. He gestured for him to go on, and Draco rose from his bow.

“I understand you are displeased at the thought we might have told our mothers you were to spend Christmas on your own, is that right, Your Majesty?”

“Well, did you not?”

“No, Sire, I did not. I simply asked her to invite you to stay over. It is true I did not want the King to spend such an undignified Christmas, but I did not tell her the reason for the invitation. I think she assumed it was only proper.”

Harry’s anger started to abate, at hearing the words, and he started to see sense. He turned to Ron and asked, in a softer tone: “What about you?”

“I did tell her you were spending the holidays at Hogwarts, sir, but not that your family wasn’t too.”

“Oh.”

They sat in a somewhat uncomfortable silence while Harry was working through his feelings, before he spoke again.

“I’m sorry I yelled at the both of you. I realise I overreacted, allowing my anger to take control like that. I didn’t wish to accuse you of betrayal. I know my seneschals could never do that. I just thought my friends had betrayed me and I was hurt. It’s no excuse but I hope you can forgive my outburst.”

The other boys immediately relaxed at hearing that, and assured him he was forgiven and the incident forgotten.

“I’m grateful you’re so quick to forgive. As for your invitations, I appreciate them for what they are now. But I don’t think I can accept.”

Draco almost looked outraged that someone had dared refuse the honour of a stay at Malfoy Manor, but managed to hold his tongue and remember Harry’s station. He merely asked “Why, Sire?”

Ron seemed in an another world, and was barely listening anymore, lost in thoughts.

“You said it yourself, Draco, your mother only accepted because she thought it proper. I don’t want to impose on your holidays with your family. On either of your celebrations.”

That stirred Ron out of his apparent torpor. He snorted. “Shows you haven’t met my mother. She’d cook a Christmas meal for every witch and wizard in the world if she could. You really don’t have to worry about it. In fact, I’m begging you to come please, otherwise I’ll hear about how I “abandoned the King” the whole holiday. Please don’t make me suffer that, Sire!”

“Uh, your mother seems like a remarkable woman.”

Ron gave a visible shudder. “She’s bloody terrifying, is what she is!”

Harry gave him a smile, and they knew they were okay. No friendship broken.

“It might have been propriety that made my mother invite you, Sire”, Draco then said, “but I asked because I care about your wellbeing and I would very much enjoy your company. It is of course an honour for the King to grace us with His presence, but I genuinely find your company pleasant, my Lord.”

“Well, that is surprisingly touching, coming from you, Draco.” Answered Harry, and he meant it.

Even though he really liked them and thought of them as friends, the teenage King had assumed his seneschals hung out with him out of duty rather than choice. Hearing their assurances was soothing and made him feel warm in his heart.

Then a thought occurred to him. “How am I supposed to choose between the two of you?? Magic can do wonders, but I can’t be in two places at the same time, that’s impossible!”

Because Draco suddenly looked ready to duel him over the issue, Ron pointedly suggested: “How about we split the time? You can spend Christmas at ours, and New Year's at the Malfoy’s, or something like that.”

And thus it was agreed that Harry would spend the first ten days or so after the Yule ball with the Weasleys, and the remaining holidays with Draco’s family.

As they were headed out of the room they’d argued in, Draco remarked, joyfully “If you’re staying at the Manor, I’ll be able to give you more lessons!”

Harry almost went back on his word.

***

“Why were you so angry at us earlier?”

They were sat in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room and Harry had been silently staring at the flames for the better part of an hour. Everyone had gone up to bed and he’d been alone with Ron for the last fifteen minutes. That was what the seneschal had been waiting for, as the question he’d just voiced had been lounging in his mind the whole day. Upon hearing it, the King sharply looked up, seemed to think it over, and then turned to the guard standing near the door to the tower.

“Leave us, please.”

“Your Majesty…”

Harry interrupted her before she could go any further. “You may stand outside the portrait hole if you wish, as I doubt anyone from the house would attack me. But leave us, I wish to speak with my seneschal alone.”

The guard had to stand down. She bowed and left. Ron waited for Harry to answer his question, but he was keeping silent. So he asked again.

“It’s only, the reason you gave us seemed… Forgive me for saying so, but it seemed trivial. Was there more?”

“I didn’t want to see my family squandered by the press.”

“Understandable enough, Sire, but the Potters are a loved family. Maybe too much, considering Moody is having to deflect attacks from supporters of your brother’s. There is nothing to fear.”

“You don’t understand, do you? I never spend the holidays home. I usually go with the Delacours, but this year it isn’t an option. I cannot be seen spending Christmas with a family that isn’t mine. So when you and Draco offered your invitations, I got scared. I know your mothers wouldn’t betray me; they’d lose their family because of it. But I cannot risk anyone digging into my relationship to my own family. I’m not sure I could protect them, were that to happen.”

Ron stared at him for a few minutes, trying to make sense of what Harry had said. Then he connected the dots.

“You don’t like your family.” It was a statement, not a question.

“No, I don’t.”

The redhead was acquiring a whole new perspective on his King. He couldn’t fathom not liking his family. Sure, they were annoying most of the time, and more than chaotic all of the time, but they were family and he loved them. How could one not love their family? But then he thought back to his initial reaction at the Ritual’s choice of a King. He’d been disappointed it’d been a Potter. He strongly disliked Chris Potter and thought all of them were as entitled as him. But then he’d remembered the Potter kid Magic had chosen never appeared in the press, and seemed almost invisible within his famous family. Ron understood, now. Looking back to what he’d seen of Harry’s interaction with his parents and siblings over the summer, he thought he knew the source of his dislike. His parents always seem to disregard him, and although they put up a façade in public, they weren’t so careful around Harry’s staff. Ron suspected the Potters had begun to think of his seneschals as such, too, as they were constantly around the King. His instincts started to boil, there was no way he would allow this gross mistreatment of the King to continue! The Potters would have to answer for it!

“They can’t be allowed to treat you like that! You’re the King, you cannot be disrespected by your own parents! I’ll tell my father and he’ll sort it out, don’t worry, Your Majesty.”

Harry sharply turned around to face him.

“You won’t! I forbid it. I forbid you from telling anyone. The world cannot discover their King was neglected by his family. They might not love me, and I might not like them, but they are still my parents and I wouldn’t be able to protect them, were the press to learn of their attitudes. They would be hunted down! And my siblings are just kids, they don’t deserve anything so harsh. They didn’t know better.”

“But, Harry, your parents abused you! They still do. I know you want to protect them, but my job is to protect you. You deserve better, and not just because you’re King. No child should have to go through what you experienced. Please, allow me to tell my parents, they’ll be able to help. I’m sure they can come up with something that won’t put your family in danger.”

“No. This is an order of the utmost importance. You are not to tell anyone of that situation. Hear me? On this, you will obey me.”

“I… Yes, Your Majesty.”

Ron was too gobsmacked to say anything for another full minute but then spoke again, if tentatively.

“I won’t tell anyone, Harry, but allow me to help you? You already agreed to the holidays, but I know you’d be reassured to know that you spending time at your seneschals’ homes would be completely normal. Even at Christmas. It would simply show you are taking your Kingly duties very seriously.”

Harry’s heart melted at hearing his friend’s support. A small smile made its way onto his face, softening the hard expression he’d adopted when issuing his order.

“Thank you, Ron, I really appreciate it. You’re a good friend.”

Nothing more was said after that, both content to sit silently in the other’s presence.

Chapter Text

Harry and Hermione were in the library, when Fleur came in the door rather forcefully, earning herself a glare from Madam Pince. She probably would have been barging in, had she not thought it beneath her to behave in such an undignified way. She stood behind Hermione for a moment, facing Harry, before seating herself beside the Gryffindor girl.

“You need to call off your hound dog.”

Silence met her demand. Harry eventually ventured an answer. “I… Don’t have one? As far as I’m aware, at least.” He sent a helpless look towards Hermione, but only got an equally confused one back.

“The carrot-top.”

“Ah. You know, I should introduce you to Draco Malfoy. You have quite a few things in common.”

Fleur turned her nose up at that, ironically looking eerily similar to the young seneschal. “The vampire-looking snob? I’m offended you’d even compare me to that child.”

Harry let out a loud snort at that, and even Hermione smiled, looking down at her book. The librarian sent them a withering look but didn’t say anything.

“Anyway, what did Ron do?” asked Hermione, coming back to the original topic.

“He keeps asking me out to the Yule ball! I’ve said no so many times and he doesn’t understand. Is he… You know, a bit stupid?”

“Fleur, you know that’s offen…” Harry was interrupted before he could finish his sentence.

“What do you mean, he keeps asking you out?”

Fleur leaned on the back of her chair, looking a bit dejected. She answered Hermione.

“He’s been repeatedly asking me to be his partner to the ball for the past two weeks. He did it not fifteen minutes ago and that was the last straw. Please, both of you, do something! You’re his friends, he’ll listen to you.”

“Oh, he better listen, cause he’s for sure getting a piece of my mind!” With that, Hermione stood up and angrily gathered her belongings.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a certain carrot-top I need to yell at.” She curtly curtsied to Harry and stomped out of the library.

“Ron invited her to the ball two weeks ago. They were supposed to be going together.” The boy explained.

“Well, not anymore I gather. Well, that’s all he deserves. Although, poor girl, she doesn’t deserve such abysmal behaviour.”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry he acted like that with you, too. Believe me, if Hermione left anything of him standing, I might finish him off. I don’t understand how he can be so mature with certain matters and behave like a 5-year-old child the next moment.

“Thanks Harry. But no need to go too hard on him, I just want to be left alone. Who are you going with, anyways?”

The sudden question made Harry groan. The ball was in a week and he still hadn’t asked anybody. He would happily go on his own, or at least with one of his seneschals, but as a champion and the King, he had to open with a dance and thus had to have a partner. And the scandal it would cause wasn’t worth taking Draco, Cedric or a Weasley. He said as such to his friend and she made a sympathetic noise.

“I would have offered to go with you, but you know I told Victor we were okay. I can’t confuse him by not going with him.”

Harry smirked. His friends really were better than the rom-coms Glory liked to watch on the telly.

“It’s ok, I’ll figure something out.”

***

That night, Harry was met with a muttering Ron and exasperated-looking Neville and Dean in the dormitory. He hadn’t seen them all day, too busy studying for the Tournament in the library, and he’d eaten dinner at the Ravenclaw table with Fleur and a few of their Beauxbâtons friends. Luna had even joined them and, all in all, Harry was in a good mood. Which is why he didn’t immediately descend upon Ron in anger. Instead, he calmly asked:

“So you spoke with Hermione, then?”

“Got yelled at by her, more like.” Was the answer.

“It was well deserved, from what I gather.”

“Yeah mate, stop your whining, it’s your own fault.” Dean sounded like it was the twentieth time he was saying that. Which it probably was. “You shouldn’t’ve asked Fleur when you’d already asked Hermione.”

Ron looked about to protest, but Harry wasn’t about to let this go easily.

“Asked? More like harassed. You can’t keep asking someone out when they’ve already said no, Ron.”

“So Fleur told you.”

“Of course she told me, she’s my best fr… Why are you saying it like you knew you were harassing her?”

“Well Hermione made it sure to repeat it enough times that it stuck.”

“Good. You’ll apologise, then?”

“Look, I’m really sorry that I bothered them, but I won’t go around apologising. That’s humiliating!”

Damn his friend’s misplaced pride! Luckily for Harry, Neville chose this moment to tentatively speak up.

“That’s not good, Ron. You did something wrong, and the King is right, you have to apologise.”

Harry sent a grateful smile Neville’s way, but lost patience when Ron continued to argue.

“I don’t see why I should.”

“Right, that’s enough. We will not tolerate this behaviour. You refuse to listen to your friends, maybe you’ll listen to your King. This is NOT the kind of attitude We expect from Our closest advisors. You are to be exemplary in your actions as you represent Us, and such… Missteps sully Our name. Until you right your ways, We will not be taking counsel from you.”

The King paused, staring at his friend dead in the eyes. He then continued, his tone softer.

“Contrary to you, I stand by my word. You better swallow your pride, Ron, and quick.”

The redhead had stopped protesting as soon as Harry had used the “King” card, but his face was now closed-off. He bowed curtly.

“As you will, Sire.”

Harry acknowledged him with a nod and turned back round to leave the room.

He went back to the common room, spotting a silent Hermione studying a book. As he approached her, she resolutely kept her gaze down, though he could see her eyes weren’t moving. Not saying anything, he sat down in front of her. He too, didn’t feel like talking. He’d just had his first fight with one of his new friends. Or at least he thought it’d been a fight. He couldn’t be too sure. What he was sure about, though, was that Ron now hated him. Harry had used his title to get his own way, and he hadn’t done so in a nice way either. Of course, he knew his intent was right. Ron had done something wrong and when one hurt someone, one should absolutely apologise. That didn’t mean Harry had to force the apology out of him by pulling rank! He could’ve convinced his friend through sound arguments or at least a real conversation. But the teen couldn’t help it, he just lost patience and went with the easiest way. Well, at least he hoped Ron would have the sense to obey him and make amends, even if his friend came out hating him.

“Enough. I’ve read the same sentence at least twenty times, I’m done.” Harry raised his head when Hermione broke the silence. “Do you want to take a walk? I need to clear my head and you look as though you do too.”

Grateful for the opportunity to escape his thoughts, the teenage King nodded and followed her out the portrait hole. It wasn’t curfew yet and a few students were milling about, but the halls were mostly empty.

The two walked for a bit in companionable silence before Hermione couldn’t resist anymore. She asked Harry if he’d just yelled at Ron. The boy answered sheepishly that yes, he’d just dressed their friend down.

“I heard you gave him quite an earful as well.” He retaliated.

The friends exchanged a glance and all of a sudden they were laughing. They went on like that for at least seven whole minutes before they started calming down. Every time their giggles died-down, one of them would say something like “And his face! He looked so outraged!” and they started up again.

When they took control of their emotions once again, they were spent, so they sat on the floor near the wall, catching their breath.

“I hope he learns the lesson, though. He can’t treat people like that.” Harry quietly said, his worries catching up on him.

“He’ll come round. What with the both of us telling him down, he’ll understand. I hope.”

“Yeah, I hope you’re right. What will you do for the Yule Ball, now? I imagine you’re not going with him?”

Hermione scoffed. “No chance in hell. Even if he does apologise, I won’t be humiliated like that. I don’t know, I guess I’ll go alone, or I might not even bother going.”

Harry hummed in answer, awkwardly trying to come up with a way of sharing his idea without sounding weird. After a few minutes of silence he tentatively started.

“Would you… I have an idea. Do you think we could go together? I mean, not because I want to take advantage of the situation or anything! But we both don’t have a partner, and it’s not fair you’d have to miss the ball because of something Ron did. So I guess I’m trying to ask if you want to be my partner to the Yule Ball?”

Hermione looked at him for a few long seconds before nodding resolutely. “Yes, alright. I will go with you, Your Majesty.”

She said his title mockingly, lightly nudging his shoulder, and Harry groaned. “Ugh, don’t remind me. Ron is bound to hate me now. I went all kingly on him and all but ordered him to apologise to you.”

The young girl turned serious once more. “I don’t think you can “turn” kingly, Harry. You are the King. It’s normal that you behave like it.”

“Well yeah, when it comes to matters of State. This was a private row between friends.”

Hermione took the time to think before she answered. When she did, her words were slow, as if she was thinking them as they left her mouth.

“Isn’t your purpose to arbitrate between the Dark and the Light? Wouldn’t solving arguments fall into “arbitrating”? I understand you want to be a good friend, Harry, but I don’t think you should separate yourself from your kingship. You are the King at all times, it’s not a skin you can take off when it gets too warm. So of course when one of your friends has offended your sense of morality, reacting like a monarch is normal. Your values guide how you rule. If something goes against them, I’d hope you’d stand up for them with the tools at your disposal. That’s what you did with Ron, and he’ll understand. Do I make sense?”

Harry posed to ponder her words. “I think so, yes. You think that, because the King and I are the same person, it doesn’t make sense to compartmentalise my behaviours, because I will always act like the King no matter what, as I am the King. Is that it?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you’re right. I simply hope Ron can see that as well.”

“He will. Once he comes around. Don’t forget he is also your seneschal. And the same logic applies to him. He might be your friend but he’s also always your servant. He might say and act like your friend most of the time, but his duty will always come first and he always has your back. He understands your role better than I do, I daresay.” Hermione grimaced, not used to Ron being better informed than her.

“Thank ‘Mione.”

“Anytime, Harry. I should be the one thanking you.”

“Nonsense.”

Their conversation continued onto lighter subjects after that, and they slowly made their way back to the common room, keeping constant banter between them.

Hermione turned out to be right, as always. By breakfast next morning, Ron had sought her out to apologise properly, actually seeming sincerely repentant. Hermione accepted the apology, and a few hours later, Harry, Ron and her were all patched up. The redhead accepted the change in partners, understanding the reason behind it, and with surprising maturity. He seemed to have thought things out during the night, which reassured Harry who could see no bad blood ran between them. They were alright.

All in all, the week passed by rather quickly and Harry quite suddenly found himself holding Hermione’s hand on his arm waiting for the doors to the Great Hall to open and expose them to the crowd on the other side.  

Chapter Text

The doors to the Great Hall opened, and Harry heard Hermione draw a deep breath beside him. He looked at her and attempted a reassuring smile, but he was quite nervous himself. She nodded and resolutely turned back to look at the crowd assembled before them. They started stepping in, the other champions paired with their respective partners behind them. Fleur and Krum were second after the young teens, looking quite regal in Harry’s opinion. They both looked stunning, even he could see that, although Viktor didn’t seem comfortable at all in his dress robes. Harry could understand, he himself felt stuffed in the luxurious robes his dressers had sent for him to wear for the occasion.

Hermione herself was very pretty in her blue dress and he’d told her as much when he had come down the stairs to the common room, where she was waiting for him. She had been early, bursting with nervous energy, but then again, so was he, so at least they were matching. Harry hoped they wouldn’t be too energetic for their dance, as that would surely ridicule them.

Forcefully putting all thoughts of ridicule out of his mind, Harry started walking in the Hall, feeling the others following them. When they came into view of the crowd, he almost didn’t notice people bowing to him as they advanced, too absorbed in the decoration. As always, Hogwarts’ staff had done its best and the result was outstanding. Christmas trees were planted everywhere in the room, decorated with candles and the small fairies who were fluttering about, taking care of the plants. Snow was everywhere, and it looked real too! Everything was sparkling and it was what had Harry so mesmerised. It felt like the room was a huge diamond.

Then Hermione nudged him, having recovered from her wonder earlier than him, and he focused. They walked to the dance floor and took their place on the outskirts of it, making sure to have enough room to dance. The pair faced each other, forming their hold. They joined their right hips, and Hermione placed her right hand in Harry’s left, while he gently took hold of her back. Both leaned back toward their left, waiting for the music to start.

During the past week, Lady Malfoy had come to Hogwarts every day to give them both private dancing lessons. At first, she’d expressed reluctance at having to teach a muggleborn but was quickly reminded where Harry stood on such matters and the lessons went pleasantly after that. Well, as pleasantly as learning the waltz could be for two teenagers. But they did it, and a week later, both Harry and Hermione were comfortable enough for the dance to be enjoyable. They were even having fun when Narcissa wasn’t correcting their every move.

Still, as they were to have an audience, they were now both concentrating hard. The music started, a waltz Harry didn’t recognise, but the orchestra was talented and following the beat was easy enough. As they danced, he even started to relax and enjoy himself. He couldn’t focus on Hermione’s face, as it was turned to her left, but he could sense she was also relaxing into the hold.

About thirty seconds after the start, the other champions started joining in, and soon they weren’t the only ones in the spotlight anymore. Fleur was a talented dancer and it showed, Cedric and his partner, Cho, were quite decent themselves and even Chris managed to not step on Padma’s feet too often. Glory had come with a boy in her year who stumbled a lot, but somehow managed to stay in time with the music. All in all, the crowd had a lot to look out for and Harry started allowing himself to have fun.

A few minutes later, the dance ended, and they parted, panting but smiling at each other, happy with their performance. They exchanged a laugh and a hug.

“Well, we did it! Who knew we could follow a beat!” Hermione joked.

“Yeah, and we didn’t land on our asses, I count that as a win!” Harry shot back.

His friend rolled her eyes at his language but acquiesced. “Ugh, imagine the humiliation! Whoops sorry! Maybe we should move from the dance floor?”

A couple had almost run into her while dancing and it had made her realise they were still standing in the middle of the room.

They moved to the side with some difficulty, avoiding spinning pairs, and were soon joined by Ron.

“That was a great dance, guys! I didn’t know you could move like that, mate. And you Hermione, who knew you could do something else than study.”

Before Hermione could answer something equally sarcastic, a voice made itself known and a blond head suddenly appeared before them.

“I see my mother’s lesson bore their fruit. You made very few mistakes, Sire, Granger, congratulations. A most respectable dance, indeed.” Draco Malfoy bowed to Harry who seemed to be working out whether he’d just been complimented or insulted.

“Thank you, Draco, that is kind of you to say.” Hermione answered. A compliment then.

“Yeah, thanks Malfoy. Lady Narcissa is an ambitious teacher, she taught us much in a week only. I will be sure to thank her.”

He really was becoming posher by the minute, the King thought, as the words came out of his mouth.  

“Mother is talented indeed.” Draco now looked like a peacock, but Harry thought that it was cute he was proud of his mother.

They stood there chatting for a while, joined by several of their friends as they spotted the group. Cedric came by to introduce Cho, his partner, and greet Harry. Fleur and Viktor joined the discussion halfway through and everyone was having fun. Fleur and Ron were both behaving, and the King was glad to see his Hogwarts friends getting along with his Beauxbatons ones. Although Viktor’s presence might explain Ron ignoring Fleur, as he was trying to appear cool and collected while talking to the quidditch player. Krum was very clearly amused at Ron’s fangirling but he indulged him which Harry was grateful for. And so they were discussing the upcoming inter-schools quidditch match when Dumbledore approached them. Noticing him, their individual conversations gradually died down until silence met the headmaster.

He bowed to Harry. “Your Majesty, I am glad to see you are enjoying yourself. How are you all?”

“Yes, it is a great night you have put  together, sir.” Harry answered.

The others all gave varying answers along the lines of “everything is well”, and Dumbledore politely listened to everyone, but after acknowledging them, he turned back to the King.

“Would you spare a few minutes of you time for an old man like myself, Sire?”

Suddenly interested, the teen acquiesced, asking “Should we go to your office, professor?”

Dumbledore dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “No need for such a walk, Sire. If you would follow me?”

Without waiting for an answer, the headmaster turned on his heels and started toward a wall a little way from where the group was standing. Harry shrugged looking at his friends and followed him. He was lead to a concealed door, the old man had already revealed and pushed open. Stepping into the room, Harry squinted his eyes, the contrast sharp between the brightly lit hall and this dark space. Looking around, he could see no furniture. The room was bare, save for the two humans standing in it.

Turning back to Dumbledore, he raised a questioning eyebrow. “What did you want to see me for, headmaster?”

The old man looked at Harry with a benevolent smile. “I hear you are spending the holidays with the Malfoys, Sire?”

“Only for the last week or so, but yes.”

“And you are staying with Arthur and Molly for Christmas, is that right?”

“Yes.” The teen answered, unsure of where the professor was going with his questioning.

“Are you not looking forward to seeing your parents, then, Your Majesty?”

Ah. There it was. Harry shook off his mounting irritation at seeing people constantly rummage about in his family life and merely stated “I do not see your question’s relevance, sir, as I am not seeing my family during the holidays.”

His benevolent smile never leaving his face, Dumbledore nodded, as if understanding his intent. “Ah, it is merely that I worry for your safety, my Lord. The Malfoys can be a shifty family, and I worry they do not have your best interests at heart.”

Suddenly alarmed, Harry perked up waiting for the headmaster to say more. Dumbledore continued, seeming sincerely worried.

“I understand that they are sworn to you, Sire, and thus it may appear they serve you wholeheartedly, but they hold blood purity values and these beliefs have, I am sorry to tell you, lead Lucius to willingly backing Voldemort, even as he complotted to kill you and your brother. I am worried he is luring you into a trap, my Lord.”

Upon hearing these words, Harry went through several emotions. First, he felt deep betrayal and hurt that people he trusted to have his back were plotting against him. Anger coursed through him. Lucius dared to betray him?? But then the young King stopped to think. He’d heard the oath his seneschals took, there was no way around it. It was always to come first before any other oaths they would take, before or after, and it was a binding stronger than death. How could they act against him? They simply couldn’t, and as much as Harry appreciated Dumbledore’s concern, he was grasping at straws in this matter. His seneschals were physically incapable of betrayal.

Resolve shining bright in his eyes, he shared his thoughts with the headmaster who seemed unconvinced. Harry tried again.

“I understand why you would be worried, professor, but I am absolutely certain there is no cause for concern. I absolutely trust all of my seneschals, and the Malfoys are no different.”

“I urge you to reconsider. My dear boy, Lucius has been a willing servant of Voldemort.”

Harry’s patience for people calling him “boy” was running thin. He frowned and tried to stay calm, even as he took his leave.

“While I appreciate your concern, sir, my decision is made. I have accepted Lady Malfoy’s invitation and do not intend to go back on my word. I wish you a pleasant evening, professor.”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned toward the door and left the dark room.

He was met by an anxious-looking Cedric who stopped chatting to his partner as soon as he reappeared in the Hall.

“Is everything all right, Your Majesty?”

Startled, Harry gave a short laugh. “Where you waiting for me this whole time?”

“Of course, Sire.” His seneschal answered like it was the most natural thing to do and to be fair, even Cho seemed to understand the logic.

“It wasn’t anything too important, Cedric, but I appreciate you asking.”  The King answered the first question.

“Well, then, maybe you’d like something to drink, sir?”

And just like that, Harry was lead to the refreshments table and was surrounded by friends once more and enjoying his evening. When he wasn’t laughing with Ron or Fleur and Viktor, he was maintaining a constant stream of conversation between Hermione and him. He’d discovered early on that his friend had an endless reserve of interesting topics to discuss and he always enjoyed digging deep into the questions she asked, as well as debating her on some issue or another.

And so, later that night when Hermione confessed the noise and general stimuli were becoming too much for her to bear and they made to leave, the Hall was ablaze with laughter, music, and people’s blended voices, making for a cheerful Christmas vibe.

Unfortunately, their mood quickly dropped when they were accosted by a pink toad. Harry barely held his scowl back as he took in the sight of Umbridge curtsying to him.

“Your Majesty.” She did not even bother to acknowledge Hermione and that made Harry hate her all the more. He could feel his guard shifting behind him and thought he could see another come forward from where he was stationed near the wall. To prevent bloodshed more than to accommodate his teacher, the King answered. “Professor.”

She smiled at him and it was sickeningly sweet. “I hope you are enjoying your evening, Your Majesty?”

“Most of it, yes. What do you want, professor?”

Undeterred by his short answers, her smile had not even dropped a millimetre. She pulled a package from her bright pink bag and said. “I would simply like to gift you with an early present, Sire. I thought I would offer my King a Christmas gift.”

She made to hand him the parcel, but the guard near the wall put a hand forward, stopping him from reaching out, had he wanted to. As it was, Harry had no intention of touching the parcel, suspecting it would be cursed to harm him.

“Apologies, ma’am, but his Majesty’s mail must be screened before we can allow it to reach him. If you’ll hand it to me, I’ll see to it that it is properly checked.”

The last sentence sounded like a threat, but the small woman only said “Of course” and obliged the man. She then turned back to Harry and Hermione and, curtsying once again said, “I hope you enjoy my present, Your Majesty. I wish you a good holiday.” She then left, her wide smile never once faltering.

Hermione shuddered with disgust and said with surprising force “How I hate her! She’s a despicable woman and an even worse teacher.”

Harry grimly nodded before turning to the guard who had spoken out, a small man with spots of white starting to take over his black short hair. “Will you check that, please?” He gestured to the wrapped gift in the man’s hands. “And keep me updated when you know more?”

The guard bowed. “Of course, Your Majesty.” He then left, and the teenagers turned back to the staircase, making their way back to the Common room.

Chapter Text

“Ronald, how many times did I tell you to tuck your shirt in, you look like… Oh hello Your Majesty! How are you, my dear? I trust the journey was comfortable?”

As soon as Harry stepped out of the floo into the Weasleys’ living room, he found himself engulfed into a warm hug from Molly Weasley, his seneschals’ mother and wife. She’d been fussing over Ron, but Harry caught her attention and was enjoying it. In truth, he felt a bit awkward, returning the hug, but it made him feel oddly safe, which was something he wasn’t used to. Ron grimaced a “sorry” over his mum’s shoulder, but Harry only offered a smile in return.

“Molly, please, don’t smother the King to death!”

Hearing her husband come out of the floo, the matriarch stepped back and offered a small curtsy to Harry, but he had a feeling it was for Arthur’s sake rather than any sense of propriety. By then, most of the family had stepped into the room, and Molly turned to her other children, berating the twins for the letters she’d received from school over the semester and Harry was left to take in his surroundings.

They’d just arrived from King’s Cross, where Arthur was waiting to take them to the Burrow, the train ride having been uneventful. He’d said goodbye to his friends on the Hogwarts Express and had followed Ron to meet with his father. And now he found himself among the Weasleys’ loud chatter and banter. Their living room was just as warm and cosy as he remembered it from the time they’d invited him over to dinner during the summer (which was when he’d met Molly), and looking at it he almost felt as if he were coming home, a feeling that unsettled him.

As a guard came down from checking the house was safe and confirmed with a bow that it was, Ron escaped from his mother’s attentions to excitedly declare “Come, mate, I’ll give you a tour!” and grab him to run upstairs.

As he hadn’t left the ground floor the last time he was here, Harry was surprised to discover a narrow but tall house, decorated in a chaotic manner that spoke of well-lived home that never went quiet. He instantly liked it. Ron, on the other hand, seemed a bit embarrassed by it.

“I know it’s not much, and a bit cramped, but I hope you’ll enjoy your holiday with us.”

“Ron, mate, your house is amazing. I’d love to live here, it’s almost like the common room in the tower!”

Ron chuckled, “Yeah, well, we do have a tradition of our red robes clashing with red hair.”

And chatting good-naturedly, they continued with the visit.

That night, Harry, who had worried it might be awkward for the family with him there -what with most of them being sworn to him- was pleasantly surprised when dinner was an unformal occasion. They did wait for him to be sat at the head of the table before doing so themselves, but apart from that bit of formality, they immediately launched into the meal as they usually did, not ignoring him but also not deferring to him either. He was simply included in their usual antics, which he very much appreciated. All in all, he spent a pleasurable evening in good company. This lasted until it was time to go to bed.

“No, absolutely not.”

“But your Majesty, I assure you it’s not a problem for us!”

Harry didn’t understand why Mr. Weasley was surprised. It’s not like he’d ever insisted on formality when around him.

“I am grateful that you are welcoming me into your home, Arthur, Mrs. Weasley, and I really don’t want to be an imposition. This is too much.”

His seneschal frowned. “You are certainly not an imposition, Sire, you could never be! And it is only right that you get the master bedroom, as the King.”

“King or not, I don’t want to take your bed, Arthur, where will you even sleep?”

“We can transfigure the couch into a bed, it’s really no bother, your Majesty.”

“Well then, why can’t I sleep on the couch?”

Mrs Weasley’s eyes widened in shock. “We may not be as rich or stuck up as the Malfoys, Your Majesty, but there is absolutely no way I will allow the King to sleep in our living-room like some camper!”

The phrase made Harry want to smile in amusement, but he was also not going to stand down on this issue.

“How about I crash with Ron, then? We’re used to sleeping in the same room, it’s no bother! And his room is big enough to put a mattress next to his bed.”

His determination was apparent enough that the adults understood they had no choice but to agree, and so Harry was welcome into his friend’s room for the duration of his stay. Although, he did have to have a repeat of the argument when Ron insisted he take his bed and he the mattress. They settled it by having his parents transfigure an extra bed in the small space.

And so, his holiday started.

It truly was meant as an actual holiday, without any royal business other than the urgent matters. Harry wouldn’t be going to any appointments, sign any papers or receive classes from either Lucius or Narcissa. As the first day started with a late breakfast, and Harry then found himself playing quidditch with the Weasley siblings, he felt himself truly relax for what felt like the first time in months. Really, the only family he used to feel well with was the Delacours with whom he’d gone on several holidays in the past. The teen felt happy to be able to add another name to his short list.

It was thus a brutal return to reality when, five days after leaving Hogwarts, Harry came back from the pitch where the Weasleys were still playing quidditch to find his father, James Potter, awkwardly sipping tea with Arthur and Molly (she’d asked him to call her by her first name) in the living-room. He stopped short.

“What are you doing here?”

The adults all got up, and James took a tentative step toward his son, but said son instantly took a step back. The duke stopped, his face oddly expressing regret. Arthur, sensing the tension, smiled at the King.

“Your father came to see how you were, Your Majesty. He must have been missing you. I think we should leave you both to it. Molly and I are going to see where the match is at.”

As he and his wife left the room with a bow, Harry turned to his father and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I doubt you’re here because you were missing me, were you?”

But instead of taking the bait, James just sighed and took his seat again. “I went to see Peter, before he escaped.”

This unexpected bit of news had Harry stop in his track and made him sit down on the couch in front of his father.

“You did what?”

“I went to see him. He was… in bad shape. But it was him, and what’s more, he begged for my mercy. He… The sweet boy I went to school with, the one who needed help with his homework, who brought us butterbeer from the kitchen at Hogwarts. He betrayed me. He plotted to kill me and my family.”

For the first part of his speech, James had his head down, but the last part was said head high and Harry could see the conflicting emotions running across his father’s face. Hurt, anguish, disbelief, anger. And the teen thought he could understand. Thinking back on how he and his siblings were raised to fear and hate Sirius, he could also remember the fondness and grief brought by the mention of his “victim”, Peter Pettigrew. His supposed death brought so much pain to his father that he’d never heard actual stories from their time at school. It was always the tale of how Sirius had blown him up to bits after selling the Potters to Voldemort. To have that worldview taken from him in such violent manner and have his world turned upside down had to be upsetting, and Harry found himself empathising with his father, against his will.

“Yes, he did.” It was the only thing Harry could offer and he didn’t understand why James was here, if it wasn’t to ask for more details, which he didn’t seem to want to do. They sat in silence until James regained his composure to ask.

“Could I… Where’s Sirius? I want to talk to him. I need to. He needs to know – I – where is he?”

Well, this was an unexpected turnout. Harry should have expected really, but he still couldn’t fathom that his father had been best friends with his godfather. It did make sense that he would want to see him for himself after learning he was innocent this whole time.

The King sighed. “He is in a secure location. I understand you want to see him, but you have to understand   that, as the situation stands, I cannot trust you to not give his location away.

Chapter Text

This was the checklist at the top of my writing document where I would jot down any ideas I happened to have and tried to make them fit the timeline. A few things happened differently but most weren't written yet so have fun with that. 

Ideas:

• Pettigrew escapes Azkaban after the duelling tournament
• There’s a Yule Ball and Harry takes Luna?
• A reflective paragraph which shows Harry understands the burden of being king and the reverence that comes with it from others but also has trouble adjusting to being able to order anything. Like, he can be real regal when there’s need (Malfoy insulting Hermione), but he’s awkward the rest of the time. But he demands respect for his position still.
• Harry spends Christmas at the Weasley’s and New Years at Malfoy Manor.
• At the Weasleys : James comes to talk to Harry about Pettigrew, they have a deep convo and Harry invites him to come see Sirius and Remus with him.
• They go to Remus’ and James discovers that Remus never cut ties with him, he simply never received his letters. They reach an uneasy state of things where James is starting to accept Sirius’ innocence.
  • This was supposed to happen in the last chapter (the draft I posted) but I never got around to writing it.
• Amos and Lucius give Harry lessons on his estates/wealth/powers etc.
• Narcissa gives Harry etiquette lessons (he knows a fair bit already thanks to Beauxbâtons but not enough for the King)
• The Malfoys’ ball.
• Tonks and Bones discover Fudge received a bribe to delay Harry’s ascension to the throne.
  • They go to tell Harry and Tonks witnesses “abuse” from his parents.
  • They (his parents) want to cut him off from seeing his seneschals?
• Tonks and one of Harry’s guards go to Arthur with suspicions of Harry’s family being weird.
• Amelia Bones becomes the next Minister when Fudge is dismissed. Harry hesitates between a nomination or an election. What message would it send?
• Umbridge is Voldie’s way into Hogwarts, she took the blood from Harry. Barty Crouch breaks Pettigrew out of prison.
• Chris is with Harry and Cedric when they get the cup.
• Pettigrew tells them that Umbridge is the one who gave him the paper to put Harry in the Triwizard cup
• Dumbledore adores the Potters but Harry is a thorn in his plans. He goes to Chris when Voldie returns.
• Seamus and Lily? Lily has a debt to the fairies who allowed her to have a daughter, but she now has to comply with their demands. Find an explanation for her treatment of Harry. (I'll admit that one really galled me. I love Lily and didn't want her to be evil).
• Lucius tells Harry he thought Voldy might be the King. That’s why he willingly followed him.

I think I might change my mind about a few of these things now if I were to actually go through with writing the fic, but do with this what you will! You are more than welcome to adopt this fic, write scenes from it or a fully fledged end! I would read it. I just don't have enough of an interest in it anymore to put as much energy as I did when I started... 

Thanks to those who followed along and enjoyed it with me! And do comment your opinions/remarks if you have some, I'm still down for a conversation about it and would enjoy it!