Anyway, please R/R!
“So you have to find a wife before this ball, correct?”
“Yes. Or on the night of the ball.”
“Well, I see your dilemma. Are there going to be plenty of maidens?”
Harry smiled at his friend’s inquiry.
“Supposedly every maiden within the kingdom.”
Draco smirked handsomely.
“Then I shall buy the finest robes in the kingdom,” he said.
“Not before I,” said Harry. “I am the one to be married, remember?”
Today, they were inside the castles fine library, talking instead of dutifully doing their studies.
“I wish I was as lucky as you,” Draco sighed, leaning back in his chair to set his feet on the table. “Women throwing themselves at my feet, begging me to pick one of them as a wife. . . Beautiful women.”
“Ah yes, and kissing the hem of my robes, and treating me like porcelain, and . . . I hate being a Prince.”
“Why?” asked Draco.
“Simply because I am to be forced into my ‘certain obligations,’ and all the ‘sacrifices’ that come with it, absolutely insufferable,” Harry said.
“Harry, with our position in society we must put ourselves second,” said Draco. “We must keep an honor bound duty to our people.”
Harry grinned.
“Rather wise words coming from someone who spends more time courting women than focusing on his studies,” he said.
Draco smirked at his best friend.
“Touché.”
*~*~*~*
The castle was undergoing a large effort. After every inch had been scrubbed, they began with the decorations.
“Mother - Mother!” called Harry as he entered the crowded Great Hall, where his mother was sitting upon her throne, directing all the hustle and bustle.
“Mother - oomph - Mother!” called Harry as many people bustled past him, some carrying trays, others in heated arguments, and some looking simply lost.
“Yes Harry dear?” sighed Mother as he approached.
“Can you please tell the caterer that we don’t need the second level decorated?” said Harry, exasperated. “They insist on it - but I cannot study!”
“Yes, Harry, dear,” said Lily, looking rather drained.
Frowning, Harry kneeled next to her,
“Why don’t you rest, Mother?” he asked.
“No, dear, I’m fine,” she managed a slight smile. “We are almost finished for the day.”
She smoothed his hair away from his forehead.
“Are you anxious?”
“Of course,” said Harry. “Who would not be?”
Mother smiled.
“Of course. . . I shall send somebody to speak with the caterer. Go on.”
Kissing her on the cheek, Harry rose and swiftly left, making haste to return to his quarters.
Sighing, he entered the large bedroom and sat down.
But as he picked up his fine eagle feather quill, he found that he could not focus on his studies, but what lay ahead.
This ball was going to change his life.
After this ball, he would no longer be a free youth, but a married Prince, finally able to inherit the throne.
He clenched his jaw.
What if he could not do this?
How did one do this? How could his Mother put trust and confidence in him when he himself did not know . . .
Harry sighed.
One thing was positive. He would not be returning to his studies this evening. And it would be yet another night of contemplating.
“Harry?”
He knew that deep voice.
Standing up, Harry grinned, looking for him.
“Uncle Sirius?”
Uncle Sirius, a tall man with dark hair and eyes, smiled broadly at Harry as he entered the room.
“How are you my dear boy?” Sirius smiled widely as he gave his godson a one-armed hug.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you for another few days!” Harry said.
“I decided to come early after I received an owl from James,” said Sirius. “About your little - er - disagreement.” He grinned.
“Oh yes,” said Harry. “That.”
“I guess it would be pointless of me to tell you why you must choose a wife before your birthday -”
“Do not worry, Draco and my mother have already done so,” sighed Harry, sitting down on the edge of his bed.
“Yes, well, I never married on my seventeenth birthday,” said Sirius, leaning over to read Harry’s studies.
“You weren’t?” asked Harry.
“Of course not,” said Sirius. "With a mother like my own? I was to marry Bertha Jorkins.”
Harry snorted.
“Bertha Jorkins?”
Sirius grinned.
“But I ran away from France and I came here,” said Sirius. “That’s when I met James and Lily. And then I met Elizabeth.”
His silver wedding band glinted in the sunlight.
“But you do not have a terrible family as I did,” said Sirius. “So don’t you dare try to run away.”
Harry nodded. “Yes, but it’s still wrong to marry someone you hardly know.”
*~*~*~*
As Ron stood inside the door of the kitchen, watching her in the garden, he nervously wrung the rang in his hands, twisting it so tight that he soon found himself caught.
"Ron - you are a miserable mess," came his younger sister's voice. "Just go and speak with her - she won't laugh at you."
Ron sighed.
"I - I do not know."
But his sister was known for not taking no as an answer. She pulled the rag out of his hands and pushed him out into the garden and locked the door.
"Ginerva Weasley!" Ron roared, pounding the door.
His sister simply smiled in the window, waving before she shut the curtains.
Ron looked around to see Hermione smiling at him, a slightly confused expression on her face.
"Er - hello, Hermione," Ron called to her. "Lovely day."
"Lovely it is," Hermione answered, turning to pick up her basket full of vegetables.
But as she heaved it up, it toppled over and the produce spilled everywhere.
"Oh no," she said as she bent down to pick it up.
"Oh - let me help," said Ron, hurrying to her.
He quickly scooped up the corn, pea pods and carrots.
"One more," he said as he reached for one.
But to his surprise, his hand clasped around Hermione's.
For one impossibly long moment he was utterly still, his hand tingling from the contact. Then his eyes shot up to hers and his blushed, quickly taking her hand to help her stand up.
"Erm - I'll help you, shall I?" he asked, picking up the basket.
But unfortunately, his constant clumsiness had reared it ugly head, and he tripped on his own two big feet, and toppled down the small slope, spilling the basket once more.
"Ron!" squealed Hermione, rushing after him as he continued to roll.
Ron landed in the embankment, covered in mud and weeds.
"Merlin, Ron, are you all right!" Hermione cried as she drew level with him,
Ron seemed to be seeing two women as he looked back at her, dazed.
"Hermione’s!" he said with a winded smile before he fainted.
-
A/N: I know what you're thinking now. "Draco Malfoy is best friends with Harry Potter?"
But, you know, this is AU, and in my AU, it can happen.
Besides, can't you see Draco as a prince? Only, I see him as a prince of darkness. *smirks at the thought*