Prologue
The sun rose slowly, casting a golden glow over the gathered crowd as Harry, at just twenty years old, stood on the grand platform in the middle of a newly built square, ready to be crowned king. After three years of brutal war, the kingdom yearned for peace, and Harry was their beacon of hope.
As the ceremony began, Harry's heart swelled with pride and determination. The weight of responsibility felt both daunting and exhilarating. He glanced at the faces of the people before him, their cheers echoing in his ears, each voice a testament to their faith in him. Marking the dawn of a new era of peace and prosperity. Amidst the sea of faces, Harry's gaze found Draco, he was deliriously happy, his heart pounding with pride and relief. Draco, his companion and, as of last night, his lover, had been his steadfast support throughout the war. They grew up together, and through this war they learned everything about the kingdom together. Seeing Draco amidst the crowd filled Harry with hope for the future, a future where they could finally be together openly and without fear. Safe. Truthful.
After the crown was placed upon his head and the cheers of the crowd reached a crescendo, Harry felt a surge of optimism. The war was over, and now, he could focus on building a better kingdom, one where his parents would never have had to hide their love, one where no child will ever have to hide their identity.
Earlier, in the quiet intimacy of their chambers, after they had made love, Harry spoke of his plans for the future with excitement. For him, this was the beginning of a beautiful journey together, a chance to build a life where they could finally be open about everything. Much like the dawn he looks at now, it is the start of being safe enough to finally live. A chance to give Draco his mother’s ring, and to ask him to make the same promises his parents made in secret at the Garden of Godric.
But for Draco, it was a bitter morning. This would likely be the last time he would see Harry. The wounds of their past, buried under the weight of war and Harry's hidden identity as a prince for a decade, resurfaced with painful clarity. Draco felt betrayed by the years of secrets, hurt that Harry had kept such a significant part of himself hidden for so long. Despite everything they had been through, despite Draco proving time and time again that he would choose Harry over anything, anyone. And yet, Harry had chosen deceit over him.
Draco, grappling with this profound hurt and betrayal, slipped away quietly after the ceremony. The weight of their shared history, now tainted by Harry's secrets and choices, bore down on Draco's heart.
Throughout the war, they had pushed aside their personal issues, believing there were more important matters at stake. Now, with peace restored, those unresolved emotions threatened to tear Draco apart.
As evening fell and the grand celebration dinner began, Harry intended to propose to Draco, to cement their bond in the eyes of the kingdom. Harry searches for that familiar head of blonde, almost white hair in the crowd of faces as he smiles insincerely, worry and anxiety rising in his throat. Something isn’t right. Asking his friends, now his guards, to find Draco.
But Draco was nowhere to be found.
That night, as Harry stood amidst the remnants of his shattered office, he stared at the map of the continent, determination burning in his eyes. "Find him”.