The thunder that had crashed over the ocean had vanished with the breaking sun, and the sky above was as clear as if there had been no storm at all. Hedwig flew carelessly out of the forest, barely flapping her wings as she sailed over the sandy beach.
“What a night,” Nagini said, slithering across the ground. Hedwig, spotting her, landed at her side. “I haven’t seen a storm like that in ages.”
Hedwig fluttered her feathers, absent-mindedly straightening a few of them with her beak. "I was nearly blown from my nest."
Nagini let out a hiss of agreement. "What do you make of these?" she asked, nodding farther down the beach. Bits of golden things glittered along the shore, evidently washed up by the storm. Hedwig flew over to one, a pretty gilded hand mirror, and admired her reflection. Nagini glanced at it, but slithered onward to a finely-carved chest.
"Heddy!" she called, and Hedwig obligingly took wing and deftly opened the chest with a flick of her beak. Nagini slid into the box, a pile of fine fabrics, and hissed contentedly as Hedwig dug around with her beak.
Suddenly Nagini's head snapped up, her tongue flicking in the air. "I smell…" she began, slithering out of the chest. "Hedwig, look."
A boy lay curled up on the beach under a torn flag, breathing softly. Blood was caked on his face and matted in his sea-soaked hair. The pair stared at him for a moment, watching the rise and fall of his chest.
"What should we do with him?" Hedwig asked with a soft coo, trying not to wake the boy.
Nagini had no such hesitations. Slithering over to him, she curled against him, flicking her tongue near his face. The boy stirred, but only briefly. "He's mine," Nagini hissed.
Ten years later, Harry stretched out in the morning sun, letting it soak into his skin. He cracked an eye open, watching the blurry figures that he knew must be dolphins leaping in and out of the ocean water. He raised a lazy hand to them in greeting. They keened out hellos in response.
“Harry! Harry!” Norberta called, galloping unevenly across the sand toward him. The dragonet, though far from fully grown, was already bigger than Harry. He propped himself up on his elbows as she approached.
“Morning, Nora,” he said, smiling at her. She nudged him with her head, and he let himself be pushed back onto the ground.
“C’mon, let’s play! Hedwig said she’d make pineapple patties for us when we’re done.”
“Yum,” he said, scratching her on the nose, and stood with a stretch. There were chores to do, of course — their tree needed upkeep, their food needed to be collected, and the like — but there was little enough to do that Harry and his family would spend entire weeks lounging around and playing. And why not? Here on his island, life was easy.
He chased after Norberta as she ran through the island. For anyone else, it might have been confusing, but Harry knew these paths better than he knew his own body; he could tell immediately where Norberta was going. She made a game of trying to escape him, but sweet as she was, she was big and a bit clumsy. He, on the other hand, leapt and swung through the foliage without a beat, flying over any obstructions. Norberta laughed in delight.
The cliff where she was headed was a favorite of theirs. She paused at the edge, looking back to smile at Harry, and threw herself off. Her wings flapped in vain — she hadn’t learned to fly just yet, much to her chagrin — and splashed into the deep blue water below. WIth a grin, Harry jumped in after her. He hit the cold water with a shock, but the water soon sapped away the heat of the day and by the time he had surfaced again, it was nothing but a relief.
They spent their nights in a tree with wide, low branches. It was thick enough to accommodate Norberta, and high enough that Hedwig liked it, too. Harry and Nagini would have been content anywhere, so long as they had each other. Hedwig and Nagini had raised him together, but Nagini had been the one who taught him to hear the words of the animals, to shape them in his own mouth. Norberta had come later; he’d raised her from the egg himself.
“No,” Norberta muttered in her sleep, smoke escaping from her nostrils. “No!”
Harry woke with a start as she kicked the tree, shaking it. Nagini lifted her head, peering down at the dragonet; Hedwig, who rarely slept at night, cast an eye over them. Norberta’s nightmares had become something like routine. With a sigh, Harry slipped down the tree into the lower branches and set his hand on her flank.
She startled awake, immediately guilty. “Did I wake you again?” she whispered.
Harry forced a smile, still disoriented from waking. “It’s alright,” he said. “Let’s take a walk.”
Harry could hear Nagini and Hedwig talking in low tones as they walked away, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.
The stars had never held any import to Harry, but Norberta loved to look at them. He thought perhaps that it was because she wanted to fly. Harry had never had that urge; the unencumbered vastness of the night sky frightened him. No answers, only endless questions.
“I get nightmares, too, you know.”
Norberta craned her neck toward him. “Really?”
“Yes. Of…” he touched the scar that ran down his forehead. “Of storms.”
And a scream. He remembered a scream.
Norberta sighed, cuddling up next to him, but looking back up toward the stars. They sat in silence until Norberta’s breath slowed.
“Will you sing to me again?” she asked with a yawn.
Harry smiled as he looked down at her. “Sun goes down, and we are here together…” he began, and sang to her the song she so loved, the song that never failed to stir in him a feeling of safety and home and childhood.
He curled up next to her. As he dropped off to sleep, he heard the rustling of feathers and the sliding of scales against the ground, and he fell asleep with a contented smile.
“Land ho!” Ginny called, an eye to her spyglass. It was a bit ridiculous, no doubt, but she was so damned happy to be here that it hardly seemed to matter. Here, where there were no ball gowns, no arranged marriages, no seventh daughter of a seventh daughter bullshit. Here, on her own.
“Hey, don’t call me that,” Ron said, grinning. Ginny rolled her eyes. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t entirely on her own, but she could deal with her brother. He held up his hands, and she tossed him the spyglass. He whistled as he stared through it, but made no objection as she directed the crew to sail toward it. He knew this was her first — and last — chance at freedom.
She’d always had a bit of an adventurous spirit, but with six brothers, her parents hadn’t had the faith or attention to let her go. But now they were planning on marrying her off — to whom, she still didn’t know — and she’d put her foot down. She was not getting married off to some random prince without having had her adventure. So, begrudgingly, they’d sent her away, with as much supervision she’d agree to: Ron. And though he liked to occasionally pull rank and pretend to be in charge, he wasn’t a problem for her.
It was her third month at sea, and after this final, unexpected island, she was headed home.
The island, when they finally banked, was breathtaking. As soon as she stepped off of the boat, she was overwhelmed with the scent of flowers. Ron sneezed. Ginny grinned.
“What… is it?” Norberta asked, staring at the two adventurers through the bush. Nagini hissed.
“It’s terribly colorful,” Hedwig said.
“They’re like me,” Harry breathed. It was impossible, and yet — they moved like him. They spoke like him.
Nagini hissed. “Don’t be silly, dear, they haven’t your face.”
“He’s right,” Hedwig hooted softly. “His difference is a scar.”
The two adventurers chattered away as they crossed the island, laughing. Harry couldn’t hear them, could barely hear his own family over the beating of his heart. Feet moving softly over the ground, he followed them through the woods. They bumbled through the island, so obviously strangers here, but Harry longed for them, felt so close to them he could hardly breathe.
One of them tripped, and they both went tumbling down the side of a mountain. The grotto that they fell into was one of Harry’s favorites, lovely and shaded. It was also filled with some of Harry’s favorite companions — crocodiles.
“Oh Merlin, I knew I should have stayed home,” one of the people was wailing as Harry climbed down the other side of the mountain.
“Shut it, Ron,” the other one snapped, pushing its back against the other one. “No sudden movements, okay?”
Ron whimpered. The crocodiles were creeping up the bank, sniffing at the air. Harry sighed, grabbing a nearby vine and swinging into the grotto.
“Boys!” he called. “That’s enough.”
“Harry,” one of the crocodiles whined, as another snuck up behind the people.
“Is he talking to the crocodiles?” one of the people muttered to the other.
“Don’t even think about it,” Harry said firmly, and the crocodiles lowered their heads, slinking back into the water.
“Sorry,” he said, looking up at the people. “We aren’t used to visitors. Who are you?”
Ron yelped out something like a laugh. “Who are we, mate?”
The other one was looking at Harry with an intensity that made him want to slip back into the shadows, out of their sight forever. He held his ground. “Who are you?” it asked.
He didn’t lead them to his tree — that was too much for him — but he led them to something nearly as precious: the box that Nagini and Hewig said had washed up with him. He opened it up and pulled out a square of cloth and a shirt too small to fit him now, handing them over. The people rubbed their fingers across the letters embroidered there.
“Harry,” one of them said aloud.
“We think it’s my name,” he said. “Or, er, it is my name, now. But I don’t remember anything before.”
“Harry,” it said again, then stood, brushing the dust off its pants and holding out its hand. “I’m Ginny.”
“Princess Ginevra,” Ron corrected. “And I’m Prince Ronald.”
Ginny rolled its — her? — eyes. “But you can just call us Ginny and Ron.”
“Okay,” Harry said, smiling, and took her hand. It was soft and smooth in a way that few things here were, closer to a leaf than any of his family or friends. “I’m Harry,” he said again, then blushed.
“So you don’t remember anything? Your family? Where you’re from?” Ginny asked.
“I’m from the sea. That’s what Nagini says, anyway. As for my family… they’re around here somewhere.”
There was a soft fluttering of wings behind him, and Hedwig hooted softly. “Right here, dear.”
He turned, cmiling. “This is Hedwig,” he said, pointing up into the tree. “And Nagini… and here’s Norberta.”
The people flinched, taking a step backward.
“Oh! There’s no need to be afraid of her. I know she looks frightening, but she’s a sweetheart. And she’s just a baby, anyway,” he added, teasing.
“Hey!” Norberta said. “I’m not a baby!”
“He’s nutters,” Ron said. “Absolutely nutters.”
“Say that again and you’ll not have any nuts left,” Nagini hissed.
“Nagini! Merlin, I am so sorry, she doesn’t usually say things like that.”
Ginny and Ron were looking at him with some mix of horror and fascination.
“...you can’t understand them, can you?”
“The animals?” Ron said. “The bloody animals?”
Ginny held up a hand. “He got the crocodiles to go away.”
Ron turned his look on her. “You can’t possibly…”
“Prove it,” said Ginny. “Prove that you can talk to them. Tell them to do something, or… something.”
“Er,” said Harry, glancing between his family and the newcomers. “Okay. Hedwig, would you mind flying to that mango tree over there? I’m sorry,” he added.
With a sigh, Hedwig took wing, landing neatly on a tree branch. Ron’s head swivelled between her and Harry for a moment before his face split into a grin.
“Bloody hell,” he said. Harry offered him a tentative smile in return. “You’ll come back home with us, won’t you?”
“To civilization,” Ginny said.
“Civilization?” Harry echoed.
“A place of people like you and me.” She smiled a crooked smile, marring her serious expression. “And my idiot brother.”
“I… need some time to think,” he responded.
“Take the night. We’ll stay in our boat.” She pressed his hand, looking intently into his face. Her eyes were like nothing he’d ever seen before — coconut husks flecked with gold, with all the promise of milk beneath. “I would hope you’ll decide to come with us, though.”
“You can’t really be thinking of leaving, Harry!” Norberta said, swishing her tail back and forth in agitation. Harry was perched on the edge of a cliff, looking over the usually empty sea. Now, the lights of the boat glittered like stars over its surface.
“We will support him no matter what he chooses,” Hedwig said, a note of chastisement in her voice. He heard them, but it was hard to care; all he could think about was that boat, the people on it, and the world beyond.
Nagini slithered over to him and into his lap. “Oh, Harry,” she said.
It seemed she understood everything he was thinking, everything he couldn’t put into words. His family, his island — they were everything to him. But there was more. There were people like him, a place he came from, a place beyond the sea. A storm, a scream, a song — all he had left of his past here were shards of memory. But out there, the possibilities were endless. Maybe he even had another family out there. Maybe they were missing him.
He could be happy on his island. He had been happy on his island. But the questions were always inside of him, turning and churning and burning, desperate for the one thing it was impossible to find here — answers.
His mind had been made up the moment Ron had asked him to come with — no, the moment the strangers had first set foot on the island.
“I need to know,” he said.
The next few weeks at sea were something of a learning experience for Harry. The sailors had all sorts of strange contraptions that seemed hardly to be of any use; the odd, branchless tree in the middle of the boat wasn’t used for sleeping at all; and everyone hid both their feet and their chests. In fact, a couple of days after their journey started, Ron came to him with a loose white shirt.
“I know it’s not your style, mate, but you’ve got to wear something. There are ladies present,” he’d said.
Harry took to Ron faster than he’d taken to anyone else before. With him, all the strange things felt easy, just a shade beyond familiar.
His sister, on the other hand, was more confusing than ever. He felt shy and blundering around her. Her smiles made him feel like liquid. He didn’t understand it and he didn’t understand her, but he wanted to.
His family had a harder time adapting than he did. Hedwig was fine, as she spent her days perched in the top of the tree or flying laps around the boat. But Nagini and Norberta both distrusted and were distrusted by the crew — not to mention the fact that Norberta was so large she had to spend all of her time on deck and generally in the way of the sailors. But the princess and prince made it very clear that they were to be treated with the utmost respect, and by the time they reached their destination, Norberta even looked sad to be going.
“Let’s stay here, Harry,” she said. “Or better yet, go home.”
Harry could hardly hear her. There were people everywhere, stone boxes and wooden ones that rolled across the ground. Everything was so orderly and so disordered at the same time. It had none of the harmony that Harry was used to, but there were patterns here. It was breathtakingly different from home.
Ginny got out first, followed by Harry’s family. “That’s a carriage,” Ron said, him and Harry trailing behind. “The royal carriage, to be precise. Although I’m not sure that it’ll fit Norberta.”
A person draped in bright colors flung open the door to the carriage, and Ginny stepped inside, Hedwig flying up to perch on top of it. Ron followed his sister, waving for Harry to join him. “C’mon, it’s much comfier than the boat.”
Harry grinned, stepping forward, but Norberta stopped him with her tail. He paused, glancing over at her. “I’ll go with Norberta, if you don’t mind,” he said, stooping down to pick up Nagini and climbing onto Norberta’s back.
Ron shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said.
Norberta ambled along next to the carriage as it continued, clearly hesitant. Everywhere they passed, they drew stares, but Harry couldn’t care. He was too busy staring, himself. He gawked at the variety of people around him. They were all manner of colors, sizes, and shapes, though he suspected the latter was only because of the wide variety of clothing they wore. Still, they were unmistakably… human. Like him. And their homes were even more strange, entirely constructed. Ron had told him about what life was like in “civilization”, but seeing it in action was entirely different.
The carriage rolled through the city until the city dwindled, replaced with the slope of a mountain. This, at least, was more familiar, though the plants were different than the ones at home. Still, it was clear that their final destination would be the strangest of all: a massive blur of a building at the top of the mountain.
As they approached, even the ground changed from a dirt path to carefully laid stones. Everything was clearly thought through. It wasn’t normal, and it wasn’t natural, but it was beautiful anyway. The building itself was so overwhelming that as the carriage rolled to a stop with Norberta behind it, Harry failed to notice the people standing at the building’s doors.
“Look who’s home,” he heard, and only then did his eyes catch them. Two people were striding down the stairs as Ron and Ginny stepped out of the carriage. Immediately, they ruffled Ron and Ginny’s hair, which matched their own in color. Ginny wrapped her arms around one of them.
“Hey, who’s this?” one of them said, looking at Harry.
“And what’s this,” the other added. “Charl’ll be pleased, that’s for sure.”
Harry looked between them as they became clearer, eyes widening. Perhaps he had been wrong. They weren’t two people — they were one person, twice.
Ginny stepped forward, giving Harry one of her smiles. He tried not to flush as he slipped down from Norberta’s back.
“Fred, George, this is Harry. Harry, these are two of our other brothers, Fred and George.”
They grinned in unison and gave a short bow. It was unnerving.
“Gin! Ron! You’re back. We were hoping that — isthataNorwegianRidgeback.”
Harry looked up, startled, as another redhead came bounding out of the building. He was shorter than the others and significantly more tanned. His eyes were glued on Norberta.
“You tell me,” Ron muttered. “Charlie, this is Harry. Harry, Charlie.”
Charlie looked over to Harry, seeming to notice him for the first time, and smiled. Harry liked him immediately. “Hallo, Harry. Sorry, I’ve just never seen a Ridgeback in person. Where did you g—”
Ginny coughed loudly, cutting him off. “Fred, George, Charlie, I’d like you to meet Harry’s family. This is Hedwig, Norberta, and…” she looked around.
Harry held Nagini up, letting her drape over his shoulders. “Nagini.”
The three brothers exchanged a look, but didn’t react in the same way Ron had; he suspected it had to do with the severity of Ginny’s tone.
“He can talk to them,” Ron added. “Actually.”
“Right,” said Fred or George, unconvinced.
Charlie looked at Ginny for a long while, communicating with their faces in some way that Harry couldn’t understand. After that, Charlie grinned, looking at Harry.
“In that case,” he said. “I’ve got a lot to ask you.”
“Give him some time to breathe, mate,” Ron said. “Where’s Bill?”
Fred or George waved a hand. “Off on a diplomatic mission for Dad.”
“Otherwise known as visiting Fleur,” the other added. “But don’t worry, someone much more important is here.”
“Your beloved,” cooed the first, turning to Ginny.
Ginny stiffened. “What do you mean by that?” she asked flatly.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Just that they’ve chosen a finacé for you.”
“And he’s here,” said the other.
“And —”
“— you’ll never guess —”
“— he’s none other than Lucius Malfoy’s son.” The last part they said in unison.
Fred or George turned toward Harry. “They don’t get along, Malfoy and our dad,” he said conspiratorially.
“Let’s get this over with,” Ginny snapped. “Harry, you should meet our parents. They’re usually wonderful.”
Harry nodded, then glanced over at Hedwig. “We’ll stay out here,” she cooed. “It seems someone is enjoying herself.” She looked over at Norberta, who was giggling as she tried to communicate with Charlie through rudimentary gestures. He seemed absolutely enamoured with her.
“I’m going with you,” Nagini hissed. He smiled, scratching the underside of her chin.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Ginny led Harry through the castle, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he chatted with Ron. It was cute, the way he looked at things. It made ordinary things seem marvellous.
Not that anything could seem marvellous, right now. A Malfoy. Why a Malfoy? There was a reason she’d never met the Malfoy heir before. It wasn’t as though she had been looking forward to getting engaged to any of the other options, but this was beyond anything.
She stopped in front of the doors to the ballroom. “Just let us go in first, would you?” she said to Harry. “We need a moment.”
He nodded, smiling his crooked, adorable smile, and she was half tempted to just run. To take him, and any of her brothers who would go with her, and leave forever. No Malfoy, no marriage, no stupid royal responsibilities.
But she couldn’t do that.
“You two,” she said to Fred and George. “Get lost.”
Fred spread his hands out, mock-innocent, and George pouted, but she didn’t relent.
“All right,” Fred said. “Your loss.”
Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the ballroom.
“Ginny! Ron!” their mother cried, stepping forward immediately to embrace them. Their father was quick on her heels. Enveloped in her mother’s arms, Ginny was reminded that she did love them, more than anything. Just maybe not right now.
“How are you?” her mother asked, cradling Ginny’s face in her hands and checking for injuries. Ginny batted her hands away.
“Amazing,” she lied. “Mum, Dad, I’d like you to meet someone.” Her parents exchanged a look.
“Oh! One moment, I nearly forgot,” her mother interrupted. “I’ll send for Hermione immediately — she arrived two days ago,” she added, as Ron’s face brightened. “Would you —” she called to one of the servants. “Thank you. Anyway, darling, we have big news.”
“So do I,” said Ginny.
Her father frowned. “Well, perhaps, but —”
“Harry!” she called. “Come in here and meet my parents!”
Ron had finally convinced him to wear pants, and a poet’s shirt; the fact that everything was covered was his only saving grace. His shirt bagged, his feet were uncovered, his face was scarred, and Nagini was draped over his shoulders; Ginny heard her mother nearly choke as he walked in.
“He’s my new best mate. We found him stranded on an island,” Ron said proudly. “And this is Nagini, his, er, mum?”
“Something like that,” Harry said, lowering her to the ground. She slithered over to the window, basking in the sunlight with one eye on the proceedings. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”
Ginny eyed her parents, watching as their shock melted in the face of his greeting.
“Oh, you poor dear,” her mother said, wrapping Harry in a hug immediately. “Well, you’re certainly welcome to stay here, of course. But, Ginny, darling —”
The door flew open, and Hermione appeared in the doorway, wild haired. “I didn’t know you two were back!” she cried. She planted a kiss firmly on Ron’s mouth. He turned as red as a tomato, but when she pulled back, he was smiling. Letting go of him, she gave Ginny a hug.
“Oh! But who…” she trailed off. Crouched on the ground, Harry was conversing with Crookshanks, who had slunk in with Hermione.
“He can talk to animals. Really!” Ron said emphatically, looking at his parents and Hermione in turn.
As Hermione began to chat with him, Ginny felt herself be pulled away by her mother. “Ginevra, darling —”
“You can’t,” she said quietly. “A Malfoy? You can’t, I —”
“Gin, let me introduce you to someone,” she heard her father call. Dread coiled in her stomach as she turned. Coming down the stairs was a haughty-looking, handsome prince with shockingly blonde hair and steel-grey eyes. He was unmistakably a Malfoy. A hand on her back, her mother led her to the foot of the stairs.
“Prince Draco Malfoy, your future husband,” her mother said.
Ginny dropped into a curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,” she said.
He bowed. “The pleasure is all mine.”
“And of course you’ve met his parents already.” Ginny could sense the strain in her father’s voice now; she tried not to feel satisfied by it. “King and Queen Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.”
“An honor to meet you again, dear,” said Narcissa, her voice like honey, as she curtsied. She reached out and pressed Ginny’s hand. “Especially as you are to be my future daughter-in-law. I certainly can’t wait for the engagement ball tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” Ginny said loudly. She glanced over at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Ron began to usher the others out of the room, glaring as he did so. “I need to — sorry —” she said, curtsying quickly and half-running out of the room. She could hear the others heading outside, but she went in the other direction, weaving her way through the rooms until she found herself on a small balcony.
Tomorrow; an engagement ball tomorrow, and then what? A wedding by the end of the week? She tried to breathe, but her breaths felt shallow and insufficient. She was going to be married. Married into a family that all her family hated, married to —
She heard the soft sound of footsteps behind her and straightened up.
“Sorry,” said the drawling, half-bored voice of her fiancé. “They thought I ought to run after you. It’s romantic, or something.”
Taking a breath, Ginny turned, her face hardening. Draco was standing in the doorway, but when she turned to him he stepped forward, onto the balcony. He really was quite pretty, if you liked your men like that; all perfectly smooth skin and perfectly combed hair and perfectly tailored clothes, as lifeless as a doll.
“How romantic,” Ginny said. “Chasing after me because they told you that you ought to.”
Draco shrugged one shoulder, offering her a quick, ironic smile. “We both know what this is, Princess Ginevra. If you’re looking for romance, you’ve come to the wrong place.” He glanced away, and Ginny wondered if she heard something sad in the way he said it. She blew out a breath, turning away from him and resting her elbows on the balcony.
“I’m not looking for anything, and I didn’t come anywhere,” she said bitterly, as he joined her. “If it were up to me…”
“Right,” Draco said. To her relief, he didn’t sound the least bit offended. “I suppose I ought to try to change that.”
“Your parents tell you that too?”
He glanced sharply at her. “I didn’t say it was my parents who sent me here.”
Ginny closed her eyes. No, it wouldn’t have been, would it. She suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here, in the castle — somewhere like Harry’s island, no matter how many crocodiles there were. She stepped away.
“Well, Prince Draco. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
He nodded politely as she left him, still staring out over the balcony.
Harry followed Ron out into the garden, trying to understand the flurry of emotions stirring in his stomach. Something when he had seen the tall, blonde man walking down the steps; another thing when he had been introduced as Ginny’s future husband; and yet another when the other king had looked over Harry with a cold, bitter gaze.
“Maybe this was a mistake,” he said aloud. “I think I’m in over my head.”
“What are you talking about?” Ron asked, looking at him as though he’d grown a second head. “This has nothing to do with you, you’re fine!”
“Oh, don’t you see —” Hermione began, then cut herself off. Harry liked her already, liked the way Ron was with her.
“See what?” said Ron, halting in the middle of the road and looking back and forth between them.
“Him and Ginny,” she said significantly.
Ron stared at her. “No! What? My sister?”
“No!” Harry said quickly. “I mean, yes. Maybe. No! Civilization is just too… big for me. I came here to find answers, but I could spend my whole life searching this city and find nothing. And now you’re telling me there’s more? Whole other kingdoms out there? I think we need to go back.”
“Woah, woah, calm down. Look, mate, you don’t have to do anything right now. Just stay a couple months — a couple weeks at least. You can have any room in the palace.”
“And we have a royal stable,” Hermione added. “They have a royal stable,” she corrected with a blush. “For the animals.”
Harry hesitated. “I think I would rather stay with my family. Are there any sturdy trees around?”
Ron and Hermione shared a glance. “If you’re used to the tropics, you might be most at home in the greenhouse,” Hermione decided. “Come on, we’ll show you the way.”
When Harry woke, it felt like waking from a long, strange dream. He’d slept only fitfully on the boat, but now, in a tree, it felt like home: so much so that when the events of the past few weeks sharpened in his mind, his heart ached with homesickness. Norberta was deep asleep and Nagini was curled on her back, but as Harry sat up, Hedwig stirred in the branch above him.
“Do you think this was a good idea?” he asked her quietly.
She hooted in thought. “I don’t know,” she said, flying down to be closer to him. “I think that you need to be careful.”
“I don’t know how,” he admitted. “I feel like I’m completely in the dark here — I don’t understand any of…” He trailed off as he heard the door to the greenhouse swing open.
Ginny strode in. She had changed from the trousers she’d worn travelling into a gown that brushed the ground as she walked, and her hair was pulled up into an intricate design. She looked beautiful, and precious, and impossibly distant. But she cocked her head and smiled at him, and suddenly she was the same woman he’d known before.
“Sorry about yesterday, I know that was… a lot. Would you have tea with us this morning?”
“Tea?” he asked hesitantly.
“Please? I need someone else there, and my parents can’t very well turn down an honored guest the same way they can with my brothers.”
“Alright,” he said, slipping down from the tree and giving Hedwig an apologetic glance. “Let them know where I’ve gone when they wake up, Hed?” He padded after Ginny. “Why do you need someone there?”
“It’s with the Malfoys.” Harry halted, and she winced. “Sorry, guess I should have warned you.”
He nodded, resuming walking. “So… you’re going to marry him?”
“Merlin, I hope not. But… ugh. It’s complicated.” Harry tried to find the right words to respond, but came up blank. “There’s nothing wrong with him. I mean, he seems like a bit of an ass, but only a bit. Though if he takes after his father, that’s probably just an illusion. I just… sorry, I shouldn’t be…”
“It’s alright,” he said. “Um. I’m sorry. That’s unfortunate.”
She snorted. “Trust me, I know. It’s in that pavilion,” she added, nodding at a structure they were approaching. Under the roof, Harry could see several people gathered.
“Good morning, darling,” Molly said as they approached. “And good morning to you, Harry.”
“Good morning,” he said, hesitating for a moment and then bowing awkwardly. “Thank you for having me.”
“Please, sit,” Arthur said to everyone. Ginny swiftly maneuvered Harry to be between herself and the prince, but Molly firmly steered him the other way, practically pushing Ginny into her chair. The prince — Draco — was watching Harry with interest. He had tall, sharp cheekbones and unblemished skin. Harry met his eyes, raising his chin, until Draco looked away, and was surprised at the triumph he felt.
They really were a beautiful couple, in different ways. Draco took Ginny’s hand and kissed it, and she smiled at him, and Harry’s breath caught in his throat. There was nothing genuine there; there wasn’t even an attempt. But it looked so picture perfect, delicious, and Harry wanted. What it was he wanted he wasn’t sure. To touch, maybe, to taste. It was dizzying.
“I don’t think we’ve been introduced to your… guest,” the other king said.
“Oh, indeed. King and Queen Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and their son, Prince Draco,” Arthur said. “And this is Harry.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Harry said. Lucius nodded sharply. A servant circled the table, pouring a drink into their cups.
“Your palace is quite beautiful,” Narcissa said, gazing out across the garden.
“Why, thank you,” said Molly. “Our home is your home.”
Lucius smiled thinly. “Quite.”
Harry picked up his cup, gulping back a mouthful. Immediately, his mouth and throat burned. “Ow!” he cried, then blushed as the rest of the table turned to look at him.
Draco caught his eye and held up his own cup, taking a tiny, precise sip. Harry couldn’t tell if it was a demonstration for his benefit or a way to prove his superiority, so he took it as the former and nodded in thanks. Draco looked away.
“Harry grew up on an island in the South Seas,” Ginny said.
“Really? You couldn’t tell,” Lucius said. Harry clenched his jaw. “How did you… find him?”
Ginny bristled. “Father,” Draco said quietly.
“We ran into him when we were on one of my sailing expeditions,” Ginny said coldly. “Exploring is my favorite hobby, though never have I been so fortunate before as to meet someone so incredible.”
“Of course, she’ll stop with all that once she settles down!” Molly said, forcing a laugh and looking at Narcissa significantly.
“Yes, indeed. She’ll be much too busy, particularly if she has your genes. Draco won’t want for heirs,” Nercissa replied.
“I don’t think I will give it up, actually. It’s the only time I’ve ever met anyone worth even a moment of my time,” Ginny said, standing. “I’m not going to sit around at tea and be sold off like a prize pig.” She whirled on her heel and started walking toward the castle.
“Ginevra!” Molly said. She turned to the Malfoys. “I am so sorry, I —”
Harry stood, with Draco a moment behind him. “I should —”
“She needs a moment, I think,” Narcissa said. “It wouldn’t do for either of you to go chasing after her.”
“I should, um — I shouldn’t have come,” Harry said.
“Perhaps you do have a smidgen of intelligence,” Lucius said.
“Father,” Draco hissed, but Harry was beyond caring; he’d already started heading back toward the greenhouse. He felt so angry — angry and humiliated and powerless. He was so caught up in his own emotions that it took him several moments to notice the sound of footsteps behind him.
“I’m sorry about him,” Draco said.
“...thank you,” Harry replied.
“You really grew up on an island, away from anyone?”
“Not away from everyone,” Harry said, the words dull on his tongue. How many times would he have to explain this? “Away from anyone like me, I suppose. But I had my family.” He pushed open the door of the greenhouse. Draco trailed in behind him.
“What happened?” Nagini hissed as soon as the door opened. Then, raising her head and examining Draco: “Who is thisss?”
“Nagini, this is Draco. Draco, this is Nagini. She’s part of my family. Where are Norberta and Hedwig?”
“Out with that Charlie boy,” Nagini replied. She slithered in a circle around Draco, clearly inspecting him. He seemed a bit on edge, but not really scared — certainly not as frightened as most of the people here had been when they met her.
“She’s gorgeous,” he said, then immediately blushed. “Sorry, I’m not entirely sure that was proper, please don’t tell her I said that.”
Nagini laughed, a series of low hisses, and Harry smiled. “She can understand everything you say.”
Draco looked up sharply, alarmed. “Can — can all animals? Why can’t we understand them?”
“All the ones I’ve met,” Harry replied, not bothering to hide his amusement. “As for why you don’t understand — you tell me.” He strolled over to the edge of a flower bed, sitting down on the wall that divided it from the path.
“Could you — pardon,” Draco said, stepping past Negini to settle beside Harry, “could you teach me, do you think? Or rather, can it be taught?”
Harry shrugged. “Nagini taught me, so I assume so. But I don’t think either of us will be staying here long enough for me to teach you.”
“I suppose that’s probably true,” Draco said. “So, what was it like growing up away from civilization? I can’t imagine.”
Harry smiled at him, earlier annoyance forgotten, and began to talk. Now that Draco had met Nagini, he didn’t seem nearly as uptight or lifeless. In fact, Harry wondered why Ginny didn’t want to marry him; as far as arranged marriages went, they seemed like a perfect couple. The more they talked, the more he started to notice the same clawing, firey feeling in his stomach that he got around Ginny, the same desire to do entirely nonsensical things: mess up Draco’s perfect hair or press their thighs together or lick the pale stripe of skin that peeked out from above his collar. He didn’t know what to do with the feeling, wasn’t sure he liked it, but he wanted Draco there all the same.
When Draco left, hours later, Nagini came to him and curled around his head.
“I think I’m in trouble,” he said, though he barely felt the need to; he could tell that she knew already, from the way she moved.
“Oh, darling,” she said, and flicked out her tongue in a tiny kiss to his forehead.
Lucius paced back and forth across the floor of their suite, scowling.
“They could have given us a bigger suite,” he said. “This is hardly appropriate for the three of us, considering that we’re about to be married into their family.”
Narcissa sighed from here she was sitting at the mirror, carefully pulling pins out of her hair. “The girl will get over it, dear. If her parents -” she said the word delicately, carefully, as though placing a pearl between her teeth — “don’t have the backbone to force her to, I’m sure I can convince her. I’ll talk to her before the ball tomorrow.”
Lucius sighed, walking over to her and putting his hands on her shoulders. She met his eyes in the mirror and smiled up at him. “I don’t know if that will work.”
“Darling,” she said, turning around, “when have I ever failed you?”
Lucius leaned down and kissed her, a soft brushing of lips, and felt her smile as she pulled away.
“Still,” he said, as she resumed her task, “Draco isn’t doing his part. The girl —”
He cut himself off as he heard the door swing open. Through the mirror, he saw Draco stride in.
“There you are,” he said gravely.
“It was strategic,” Draco said immediately, shedding his waistcoat. “She’s certainly not going to like me if I reject all of her loved ones.”
Lucius pressed his lips together. “I’m sure it was.”
Draco wandered over to them, kissing his mother on the cheek, then straightened. He looked nervous. Lucius’s lips flattened even more.
“I don’t know if we’re going to be able to do this. I don’t know if we should,” Draco said, not meeting Lucius’s eyes. “She’s in love with him. And she hates me.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” Lucius said coldly. He reached out, gripping Draco’s jaw in his hand and forcing him to look into his eyes. “Love is for peasants, Draco. It is inconvenient, unstable, and unnecessary. You do not need love. You need a crown.”
He released Draco’s jaw. Narcissa had paused in her movements and was watching the two of them through the mirror, expression wary.
“You and mother love each other!” Draco said, exasperated. Lucius’s jaw twitched.
“We are an exception. And my love for your mother is precisely the reason you need to marry that girl, or else.”
“What does that even mean? Father — I don’t want a — a wife who hates me. I don’t want — ”
“Then,” Lucius said coldly, “you ought to get busy thinking up ways to make her like you.”
Draco stared at him for a moment, then dropped his eyes. “Yes, Father,” he said, just a note of sarcasm in his voice, and turned to leave.
“Draco,” Narcissa said. She caught Lucius’s eyes in the mirror with a look that clearly said I’ll take care of this and rose. “I’ll join you.” Lucius watched them walk out of the room, the door closing with a click.
Arthur had forgotten. Oh, he’d not forgotten his hatred of Lucius; that he had conveniently tucked aside for the sake of the marriage. But what he had forgotten was what his father had done to the Blacks — what he’d forgotten was that Narcissa was of the same stock his family had ruined. His father had stripped them of their land and money for treason, dropped them into a pigsty in exile and left them to starve, and Arthur had forgotten.
It was no matter; Narcissa and Lucius would get their revenge soon enough. Once Draco was married, there was no reason to keep the rest of the family around, after all. The Malfoys would rule not one, but two kingdoms — and Draco wouldn’t have a wife who hated him, after all.
But Lucius doubted that she was the one he really had to worry about. Oh, she looked at the island boy, showed him off, but he was nothing more than a toy, an act of rebellion like all her other silly little things. No, it was not the way she looked at him that was a problem; it was the way Draco looked at him, spent hours with him and then had the gall to say the word love.
Narcissa would whip him into shape, he was sure, but even so… it might be a good idea to remove the island boy sooner rather than later.
“No.”
“Harry, darling —” Hedwig began.
“I am not going to Ginny and Draco’s engagement ball. It’s a terrible idea!”
Nagini sighed. “If you want them —”
“— them?” hooted Hedwig.
“— then you really ought to go to the ball. You’ll be the most handsome man there. I’m sure they won’t be able to take their eyes off of you.”
Crookshanks, standing to the side, interrupted them with a yawn. “Well, that’s certainly not a guarantee. You’ll enjoy yourself nevertheless. I’m told balls are quite fun.”
“Yeah!” Norberta piped up. She threw a glare toward Hedwig and Nagini. “Obviously you aren’t going for Ginny or anyone else. But don’t you want to try going to the ball? Get dressed up? Dance?”
“Not really,” he said weakly.
Crookshanks stood, stretching languidly. “It’ll be a breeze. So long as we find you something to wear,” he added, giving Harry a clearly critical eye.
“Oh, that’s really not a good —”
“Your little friends will be there, too! Ron and Hermione will be there, won’t they, Crookshanks?” Hedwig added.
“Of course,” Crookshanks sniffed.
“Hed…” Harry began. He sighed. “All right. You guys go ahead. Hed, can I talk to you for a second?”
“Why are you so invested in me going?” he asked her, the moment the others were out of earshot.
She landed on his shoulder, nuzzling against his head. “If you really don’t want to, you don’t need to. But I don’t want you giving up just because things are hard. You came here for a reason.”
“That reason wasn’t dancing at royal engagement balls,” Harry pointed out.
“Getting more than you bargained for is no reason for giving up, either. My sweet boy… you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But I want you to be happy. Now…” she added, “why did Nagini say if you want them?”
Harry groaned. “I don’t know what I want. She of all people should know that.”
Hedwig tittered. “Well, regardless of whether or not you’re looking to catch someone’s eye, you’re going to have a great time at the ball.”
Ginny stared into the mirror, wondering how her life had been turned so upside down. Not three days ago, she was sailing the seas. And now she was engaged to a Malfoy and all ready for the engagement ball that would make the whole world know it.
“You look beautiful,” said a soft voice. Ginny straightened, turning. Narcissa Malfoy stood in the doorway, looking perfectly immaculate, with elbow-length gloves and a gown of deepest green.
“Thank you,” said Ginny flatly. “Your Highness.”
Narcissa smiled, stepping into Ginny’s room. Ginny watched and waited, content to let her break the silence first. Narcissa didn’t seem to mind, pulling out a chair and sitting. Once she had made herself comfortable, she looked at Ginny again with that delicate, endless smile.
“Not all good marriages begin in love, my dear,” she said. “The type of love that comes before a marriage is… messy. Impulsive. If it fades, you’re left with nothing. But the type of love that comes with building a life together is different. If you’re lucky, you can have both. But people like us… we are rarely so lucky.”
“Were you?” Ginny asked, her voice acidic.
Narcissa fixed her with a gentle, serene look that somehow made her feel like a child. “Yes. Yes, I was; I loved him then as much as I love him now. But having known both types of love, I know which one I would choose. Princess Ginevra…” She let out a tiny laugh. “Well, I could wax on about how precious my son is, because I adore him more than any other creature that walks the Earth. But I doubt any of that would sway you. Let me just tell you this: getting married does not mean giving up your freedom.”
Ginny snorted. “My mother seems to think it does.”
Narcissa put a hand on her wrist. Ginny fought the urge to pull away. “Princess Ginevra, your mother is not the whole world. A queen has endlessly more power than a daughter. All Draco wants is a wife who will stand by his side. He won’t demand love, and he won’t demand obedience. Marry him, and you won’t have to fight your parents for every morsel of independence.”
She rose, and smiled again. “I’ll see you at the ball, my dear. I’m sure Draco won’t be able to take his eyes off you.” Without another word, she swept out of the room, as silent and graceful as a swan over water.
Ginny let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t deny that what Narcissa was saying made sense, in its own way; and Draco seemed, if not good, then at least decent. But could she really go through with this marriage?
Draco stepped forward, bowing slightly as he took Ginevra’s hand in his own. She curtseyed, her eyes meeting his with a thoughtful, almost puzzled expression. He slipped his other arm around her waist and they began to dance.
“So, Princess Ginevra,” he said. “What are your pastimes? When you’re not sailing, that is.”
“I like to spend my time outside,” she replied. “Hiking, riding… quidditch.”
“You play? What position?”
“Chaser, though I’ve played Seeker in the past, when Charlie was out. All my brothers play, too, except Percy. Do you?”
“Yes!” Draco replied. He cleared his throat. “Yes. I play Seeker.”
“You seem the type,” she replied nonchalantly.
Draco smiled, though he really wasn’t sure if it was a compliment. “I’m not entirely sure what that means, Princess Ginevra.”
She was silent for a few beats of music. “I think, given the circumstances, you ought to call me Ginny.”
“Ginny,” he repeated, feeling both pleased and, oddly, filled with dread. “Ginny. I don’t want you to hate me.”
Ginny smiled. “So your mother told me.”
“My —?”
“All good things,” she said, a little dryly.
“If you’re going to be my — my wife —”
“Draco, I can’t hate you. I don’t know you enough to hate you. I don’t know you at all.”
She stepped away from him, and abruptly he noticed that the music had ended. She smiled again. “I promised Charlie a dance, so…”
He reached out and took her hand, bending over to kiss it, then let her go. His mother glided over to his side as he walked away.
“How perfectly beautiful you two look,” she said, holding out her hand. He took it, leading her into a dance. “You know, my darling…” She trailed off, turning; other couples had begun to break up, staring at the staircase.
Harry was walking down the stairs: only it wasn’t the Harry of before. It was Harry in a tightly fitted shirt and vest, and a cape of owl feathers that dragged across the floor as he walked. As he walked, Draco could see a faint glittering on his vest and cuffs that a small part of his brain supposed were made from Norberta’s scales. The larger part of his brain was reeling; his breath was caught in his throat. Harry met his eyes.
He didn’t want to marry Ginny. Oh, he would; he would marry her and live out his life and they would both take lovers — except perhaps the lover she would take would be the one he wanted, the one walking down the stairs, so handsome Draco felt he might just die.
From across the room, he watched a smiling Ginny take Harry’s hand and lead him into a dance. “He’s a terrible dancer,” he heard his mother mutter at his side, and it was true — he didn’t know the steps and he couldn’t keep the rhythm and half of the time he was just tripping over Ginny’s skirts. But he moved so naturally, so instinctually with her, with all the grace of a man who’d spent his childhood climbing trees.
Draco was pretty sure he was in love, and he was pretty sure it hurt.
“Good news!” his father said, appearing over his shoulder as the dance ended. Draco watched as Harry left the room — nearly fleeing — only half paying attention to his father. “We’re moving up the wedding. You’re getting married in two days.”
Draco’s head snapped around to stare at his father. “What?”
Harry fled the ballroom, his cape dragging on the ground behind him. He’d felt so good; he’d danced with Ginny; and everything had been alright, and okay, and good, except for the fact that she was engaged to possibly the most handsome man on the planet. So he’d fled.
“This was a terrible idea,” he said to Hedwig as she flew toward him. “Ginny —”
“I found something,'' Hedwig said. “Come, quick!”
“What — Hed —” Harry said, half-jogging to follow her as she winged through the night.
“Look!” she said, coming around to the entrance of the castle. “Do you see that carriage? That banner?”
“The one with the stag?” he asked.
“Yes! Nagini and I, we saw the same banner washed up with you when we found you.”
“What?” Harry asked faintly. “You mean… they could be…”
Hedwig hooted affirmatively.
Harry took a deep breath. “Okay, okay, you just — stay here, I’ll be right back.” He jogged over the grass to the carriage with the banner.
This could be it, he thought. I could meet my family right now. And then: oh, Merlin, if my family’s here then they saw me dancing. Somehow the idea hardly felt real.
“Excuse me, sir,” he said, approaching the horse. “What kingdom are you from?”
“Why, that’ll be Paladia,” he neighed cheerily.
“Paladia. Paladia. Okay. Who were you, er, bringing tonight?”
“Well, I brought — wait a moment, you can understand me?”
Harry smiled reflexively. “Er, yep.”
“Well, I’ll be!” said the horse. “I brought the Duchess Meadowes here tonight.”
The Duchess Meadowes… “She didn’t happen to have a son, many years ago, did she? Or a brother, if she’s young?”
The horse thought for a moment. “I wouldn’t know, now, would I? I’ve only been with her for a few years. But, ehhh, there’s lots of gossip about and I haven’t heard a lick about her having a long lost son, or brother. So I reckon she doesn’t.”
“Oh,” said Harry. “Well, thank you.”
“No luck?” Hedwig asked when he returned.
“Why did I even come here, Hedwig? To make a fool out of myself? To get my hopes up and then…” Harry sighed, pulling off the beautiful cape she had ade for him and folding it beneath his arm.. “Let’s go to bed.”
Norberta lounged underneath the tree, unable to sleep. The nightmares were back — stronger, now. Screams and blood and arrows. And Harry was always off somewhere now, unable to comfort her. She loved Nagini and Hedwig, but they weren’t the same; and anyway, Hedwig was somewhere else, too.
She sighed, letting puffs of fire escape her. She’d peeked in through the windows when Harry was at the ball. He’d seemed so happy, dancing in her arms. Like he could stay there forever.
The door swung open with a creak, and Norberta quickly hid herself behind a tree. She peeked out.
“The princess!” she hissed.
“Harry?” the princess called softly. She sighed, walking over to the tree where Harry had been sleeping, and pulled out parchment and quill.
“Dear Harry,” she began to mutter to herself. “I can’t live this life any longer. Meet me in the rose garden tonight. Let’s sail away together, for once and for all. Gin.”
She signed with a flourish, rolling up the parchment and leaving it beneath the tree. She cast one last look around her before leaving, looking distinctly melancholy.
Well, let her be melancholy. Norberta didn’t care. First she started taking Harry’s time and attention, now she wanted to take him? It was too much.
With a puff of breath, she turned the note to ash.
“I think we should keep her,” Narcissa said, undoing the lacing on her gown. “Darling, would you help with this?”
Lucius strode over to her and replaced her hands with his. She sighed in contentment, leaning back into his touch.
“What do you mean, ‘keep her’? I thought you hated all the Weasleys.”
“Oh, I do. But Draco will be so sad, really, if she dies so soon — and he needs heirs, in any case. We’d still have the kingdom if the rest of her family was dead. I’m not saying we should keep the island boy,” she added.
Lucius huffed out a breath. “I’ll be taking care of him tonight. Done, darling,” he said as he pulled the ribbon loose.
“Thank you,” Narcissa said, turning and kissing him. “I’m going to bed. Once you get done with the rat,” she said, her mouth thinning for a moment, “you should join me.”
Lucius pressed his face against her head, inhaling the scent of hair — roses, this time. “Oh, I will,” he said.
She smiled at him and stepped away, her fingers trailing down the front of his chest. “Don’t be long,” she said, and disappeared into their bedroom. He stared after her for a moment before crossing the room to a chest, his face growing more and more displeased with every step he took. Unlocking it, he lifted a rat cage.
“Wormtail,” he said. The rat chittered at him. “You will pay a visit to every animal in the kingdom — except the ones in the royal greenhouse.” Rummaging in another box, he pulled out a bag. “Put this powder in their food. When you come back, there will be cheese.”
Wormtail chittered excitedly, racing back and forth across his cage. Lucius unlatched it, and the rat grabbed the bag, scuttling across the floor and disappearing into a hole in the wall.
Making a small sound of disgust, Lucius tossed a piece of cheese into the cage and went to find his wife.
Hermione flipped desperately through the pages of her book, growling in frustration and tossing it aside of another one. She rested a hand on Crookshanks, at her side. His breathing was wheezing and uneven, and though he stirred at her touch, he didn’t wake. He hadn’t all day. Hermione bit her lip and took a deep breath, then resumed her research. Sadness could wait.
Ron appeared at her door. “No luck?”
“Nothing. Oh, Ron…”
He shook his head. “We’re going to need to find something. More reports have been coming in — seems as if every animal in the city has gotten it, ’cept Harry’s family.”
Hermione looked up sharply. “They haven’t —? Of course, I’m so stupid, why didn’t I think of that first —” Leaping from her chair, she hurried to her bookshelf, running her hands along the spines. “It’ll be a disease originating in the South Seas, not from here at all! I’m not an expert on tropical diseases, but — oh, and he should be quarantined, of course, with his animals.”
“What? ’Mione, we can’t quarantine him!”
“We can’t afford not to! We don’t know if it could affect humans, too.”
“I was with him for weeks on the boat,” Ron pointed out.
“Viruses can adapt and change, Ron, that’s why they’re so dangerous! This could be deadly,” she said, her voice lowering as she glanced at Crookshanks.
Ron sighed. “Alright. What do you want me to do?”
“You threw Harry in prison?” Ginny shouted, barging through the doors onto the balcony.
Her parents turned sharply from where they were conversing.
“Prison? No, of course not! But he can’t see anyone right now, Hermione says that it isn’t safe —” her mother began.
“And when exactly are you planning on letting him go?” she demanded.
Her parents shared a look. “Not until we know it’s safe.”
Ginny wanted to scream. She wanted to pull out all of her hair, to march up to Harry and set him free herself, to run away —
Except he hadn’t shown up to the garden. He didn’t want to run with her.
“Please,” she said. “Please, you can’t…”
Her mother looked nearly as sad as she felt. “What do you want us to do?”
“Let him go.”
“He can’t —”
“Then let him go home!” Ginny cried. “Send him back to his island with his family if he can’t stay here, but please, you can’t trap him in a cage. You’re already trapping me, what more do you want?”
“We want our people to be safe,” her father said. “But they will be, if he’s gone. We’ll ready a boat immediately.”
Lucius watched as the island boy boarded his boat, his zoo of a family tromping on behind him. He had been thinking of staging a prison suicide, or perhaps bribing the guards to kill them and say they had attempted to break out, but this would be so much easier. He caught the sleeve of the captain as he passed.
“I need you to do something for me,” he said.
“Excuse me, sir —” the captain spluttered, but he grew silent as Lucius dropped a fat, jangling purse in his hands.
“Kill them.”
The land faded behind the boat as it pulled away, receding into the darkness. Harry sighed as he watched it go. It was better this way, he knew; in fact, he shouldn’t have come at all. Still…
Hedwig hooted sadly. “I know, Hed,” Harry said.
“You don’t know anything,” Nagini hissed. “Why are you just accepting this? Take down that captain and turn this boat around.”
“Nagini —” Harry began.
“You know this isn’t a coincidence! And we’ve never seen a disease like this on the island.”
“I know, Nagini, you’ve said so a million times,” Harry snapped. “And like I’ve said, it probably just didn’t affect us because we were so far away from the other animals.”
“We spent all of last night with Crookshanks,” Nagini insisted. “Hedwig herself said she saw a rat putting something in the pigs’ food! This is clearly a plot by those Malfoys.”
“Oh, come on,” Harry said. “Draco’s not that bad. And his mum seemed… nice.”
“His father —”
“Nagini, please,” Harry said. “It’s too late to do anything now. They didn’t even want me around anyway. They can be happy now,”he said quietly.
Without warning, Norberta burst into sobs, flashes of fire escaping from her nostrils.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, alarmed, but she stepped away from him, avoiding his touch.
“I burned it! I burned it and didn’t tell you and now everything’s all wrong!” she sobbed.
“You — what?”
“The princess’s note! She left you a note to meet her and run away and I burned it!” Norberta said, throwing herself against the deck.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Harry asked, crouching down and laying a hand on her neck. She squirmed away from him.
“I didn’t want you to leave me,” she said. “Please don’t hate me,” she added miserably.
“Norberta! I love you,” Harry said. “Why would I hate you? And I would never leave you, not ever,” he said.
“Really?” Norberta said, peeking at him.
“Of course,” he replied, petting the top of her head. She nuzzled into his touch. “Look, I don’t know what there is between me and Ginny. But if there was something… that wouldn’t mean I would love you any less. I realize I haven’t been spending as much time with you all, and I’m sorry. I think I’ve just been overwhelmed by everything that’s been happening. But I couldn’t be here — well, there — without you guys. I would be so lost and confused. Maybe one day… maybe one day someone like Ginny will become part of our family, but that doesn’t mean one of you has to stop being part of it. It just means there’s more.”
“But what if you find your real family? The one you had before you came to the island?”
Harry folded her into a hug, his heart aching. “You are my real family.”
Norberta sniffed, looking up at him, then flared out her wings. “Then Nagini’s right. We need to get back to the castle.”
“Oh, I don’t know —”
“Look out!” Hedwig shouted, but it was too late; the sail’s boom was flying toward them, and before they could do a thing, it had thrown both Harry and Norberta off of the boat.
The water closed in around him.
Thunder, and a woman’s scream.
“James! James, you have to —”
Harry came to on a beach, coughing up water. He felt terrified, more terrified than he had ever remembered being; it felt as though all of his organs were rebelling against him. He scrambled away from the water’s edge.
“Harry!”
“Nagini,” he croaked.
“Harry, you’re okay,” Hedwig hooted, flying into view. “Everything is okay.”
“Norberta flew,” Nagini said.
Harry sat up so quickly he became dizzy. “What?” Norberta was lying on the beach nearby, looking thoroughly exhausted.
“I carried Nagini, of course,” Hedwig said.
Harry crawled over to Norberta, who raised her head with effort as he approached. He stroked her on the nose.
“Thank you,” he said. “I’m so proud of you.”
“You look wonderful, dear,” Narcissa said, circling Draco. She stopped in front of him and took his face in her hands. “My handsome boy.”
“Please, mother,” he said, gently pushing her hands away. She only smiled, pressing her lips together as if to ward off tears. This was going to be a long day.
Lucius strode into the room, glancing at Draco with something akin to approval. “Do remember, no food on your wedding day. It’s bad luck.”
Draco snorted. “I’ve never heard that one before.”
“You’d do well to listen to me,” Lucius said sharply.
Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes, all right.”
“Come now, dear,” Narcissa said, taking Draco’s arm. “It’s time.”
The pit of dread that had been rolling in his stomach all morning flared up again, but he followed his mother down to the ballroom and took his place at the front of the room. It was small, for a royal wedding, but the hundred or so people in the room still made him want to run. At his side, his mother tensed, almost imperceptibly, and he followed her gaze. She was staring at a blue-clad king with shoulder-length black hair and a glare that could curdle milk. Said glare was currently aimed at Narcissa.
“Mother?” he said quietly.
“Nothing, dear,” she replied,turning toward Draco with a radiant smile. Still, he caught her throwing another glance toward the man.
“Who —?” he began, but she shushed him; the last of the guests had shuffled in, andhe wedding had begun.
He only paid half of his attention as the wedding went on. Ginny looked radiant and lifeless coming down the aisle; Draco gave the requisite smile and bow and taking of her arm, feigned being in love, but he was sure he looked equally hollow. The I do slipped off his tongue as easily as any other lie.
“And do you, Princess Ginevra Molly Weasley, take this man, Prince Draco Lucius Malfoy, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Ginny was as still and silent as stone. The seconds seemed to pass like hours. Draco could hear the crowd shifting in their seats; one more second, and the whispers would begin. Ginny opened her mouth.
The doors burst open, and Norberta came raging through, wings spread. Above her, Hedwig flew, hooting loudly.
“What is it?” Ginny said.
“What are they doing here?” Lucius spat.
Norberta nodded toward the door, and Ginny followed without hesitation, Draco only a beat behind her. It was clear where they were heading: the greenhouse, where the reception was going to be.
When they arrived, they saw Harry struggling against two guards. “Hey! Let him go!” Draco shouted, and they stepped away, looking abashed.
“Sir, we’re under orders —”
“Don’t care,” Ginny said.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Arthur demanded.
Ginny whirled around. “You said you would let him free.”
“And I did, on the condition that he leave. He’s —”
“It’s not a disease,” said Harry, pushing through the gathered crowd to stand in front of a bushy-haired girl and one of Ginny’s brothers. “Please. We’ve never seen any disease like it on the island. But we have seen a rat putting something in the pigs’ food before they got sick — and a bird told me that she saw him doing the same with that cake!” Harry declared, pointing at Lucius.
Draco’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Father, what —?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lucius said coldly. “Are you really going to believe —”
A new voice piped up as someone pushed their way through the crowd. “And I suppose dearest Narcissa hasn’t told you who she really is, has she, Arthur? She’s my…”
The newcomer — the same king who had been glaring at Narcissa earlier — trailed off. “James?” he said, his voice cracking.
Harry started. “Who’s James?” he asked, sounding dazed. “Who —”
“She’s your what, King Sirius?” asked Arthur.
“My cousin,” he replied absent-mindedly, not taking his eyes away from Harry. “Harry,” he whispered. “Harry. You’re alive.”
“You’re a Black?” Arthur asked, whirling on Narcissa.
She met his eyes, chin high. “I am, and I’ll admit I hid it from you. I didn’t want our old bad blood ruining my son’s future. But I’ll assure you that my husband certainly has not tried to poison anyone, and this — this boy —”
No food on your wedding day.
Draco stepped up to the cake, cutting himself a slice.
“You know, mother,” he said quietly, lifting a forkful to his mouth, “I’m not quite sure I believe you.”
Her scream was the last thing he heard before everything went dark.
Narcissa fell to her son’s side, shaking. “Draco! Draco!”
Lucius whirled on Arthur. “Obviously this is a ploy by the island boy so that he can run off with your daughter! I would never —”
“What poison did you use,” Hermione interrupted.
Lucius bristled. “I told you, I didn’t —”
“Sunset herb,” Narcissa said. “He used sunset herb.”
Hermione drew in a sharp breath. “Ron,” she said, “I need you to get me some books. Gin, with me, I think we have the right herbs for a cure here.” She rapidly sent out orders, sending people on various tasks as she started whipping up some concoction. Someone hauled Draco’s body out of the garden, the crowd going with it.
Harry could hardly process it. He was still staring at the man in front of him, the man who had called him James and then Harry. King Sirius, Arthur had said.
“What — what are you the king of?” he managed to ask.
Sirius was still staring at him as if in a trance. “Paladia,” he croaked. “I took over after your… your parents died ten years ago.”
“I woke up on an island ten years ago,” he found himself saying. “In the south seas. I didn’t remember anything, except a storm, and a scream. And a song,” he added. “I remember a song.” Without thinking, he began to sing. “Sun goes down, and we are here together…”
“Fireflies glow like a thousand stars,” Sirius continued hoarsely, in a deep baritone. “Your mother sang that to you every night.”
His mother. His mother. “What was her name?”
“Lily. Her name was Lily. She died in the shipwreck, with James… and you.”
Harry smiled, though his eyes were brimming with tears. Sirius’s were, too, he could see. “I’m not dead,” he managed to say.
Sirius stepped forward, tentatively touching his arm before pulling him into a crushing embrace. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they cried for all that they had lost, and found.
Crookshanks curled in Harry’s lap, purring gently.
When all was said and done, it had only taken a few days to get things cleared up: the animals, while not at full strength, were recovered; Lucius was unpunished but abdicating the throne to Draco; the wedding, of course, had been called off; and Harry — impossibly — was now not only a prince but had the option of kingship, if he so chose. He ached to see Paladia, his homeland, but things had happened so quickly it was hard to even contemplate leaving. This moment, alone with Ron and Hermione in the library, was the first moment of peace he’d had.
There was a gentle knock on the doorway, and they looked up to see Ginny standing there — no longer in skirts, but in the pants Harry had seen when he’d first traveled with her.
“Can I talk to you?” she asked. He nodded, lifting Crookshanks off his lap — much to the cat’s dismay — and following Ginny outside.
She led him into the garden, stopping under the shade of a grand tree, and took a deep breath. “I asked you to run away with me once,” she said. “And I know what you’re going to say, but I have to ask you again. Sail away with me?”
Harry looked at her, the gorgeous curve of her neck and the crooked half-smile she was giving him, and he ached with wanting. “I can’t. I just found Sirius. I need to go to Paladia.”
She sighed, leaning her head back against the tree trunk with a thump. “I knew that you would say that. I’m really happy for you, Harry.”
“You could — I mean. I’m a prince, now. You could marry me,” he said, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could think about them.
Ginny laughed. “I don’t want to be married, Harry. Not right now. Maybe not ever. And I think I’ve finally gotten that through my parents’ heads.” She smiled at him again. “I’m leaving today. I wanted Charlie to come with me, but he’s set on going to Paladia with you and Norberta, so I’m taking the twins instead.”
“Where are you going to go?”
“Oh, I don’t know. The South Seas again, certainly, but maybe farther this time. Or somewhere else! The possibilities are endless.”
She pushed herself off the tree and stood in front of him, lifting a hand to his face. Harry’s heart was beating so loudly he was surprised she couldn’t hear the thumping of his blood. Closing her eyes, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He kissed her back, clumsily, feeling almost dizzy. She pulled away.
“Goodbye, Harry.”
“You have to come visit,” Ron said, as another trunk was hauled into Harry’s carriage. He had tried to tell them he didn’t need anything, but the Weasley parents, guilt-ridden, had insisted on giving him buckets of clothes and trinkets. He’d long forgiven them, but it was hard to turn down their gifts in the face of Molly’s persistence.
“Of course I will, you’re my best mate,” Harry said, giving him a hug. “You have to visit, too.”
“We will,” Hermione said. She kissed Ron on the cheek. “Don’t worry about seeing each other. You’ll have to be back soon anyway for our wedding.”
“I’m a little tired of weddings,” Harry said. “But I guess I’ll make an exception.”
“Speak of the devil,” Ron muttered under his breath. Draco had appeared in the doorway, watching the carriages be made up.
“He’s really not so bad,” Hermione scolded. Shooting the two of them an apologetic look, Harry left them, jogging over to Draco.
“Good morning, King Draco,” Harry said.
Draco winced, but smiled. “Good morning.” He paused. “I don’t suppose I’ll be seeing you again much. My kingdom isn’t exactly on good terms with your king.”
Harry shrugged. “I’ll convince him otherwise. Besides, I’m pretty sure his problem was with your parents.” He winced, realizing what he had said. “Er, sorry about all of that, by the way.”
Draco smiled bitterly. “Sorry about yours, too,” he said.
Harry reached out and took his hand. Draco looked down at them, seeming startled, but Harry didn’t let go, just squeezed it.
“I’m glad I met you, Draco. I’ll see you again.”
Draco looked at him intensely. Harry met his gaze. “I hope you do,” Draco said.
A few minutes later, they piled into the carriage. Harry sat on one side, Nagini sprawled over his lap, while Sirius faced them both. The windows were wide open, leaving room to chat with Hedwig, Norberta, and Charlie, who rode on Norberta’s lap.
“I suppose it was too much to hope that he would have kissed you, too,” Nagini said.
“Nagini!” Harry exclaimed, blushing. Sirius raised an eyebrow.
Looking out the window and the carriage began to roll forward, Harry smiled.