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Heir to the Throne	By : Kaya_Winn Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 12341 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: i do not own Harry Potter or any of J.K.Rowlings works. i do not make any money, or income off of this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
Heir to the Throne

Chapter 20

The Letter From Mum

For a long moment all Harry could do was stare at the envelope laying on the ground, swallowing thickly as he hesitantly reached down and picked it up, being almost overly cautious with the old material. Stroking the wax seal with the Potter crest with an amazed air, he brought it up to his nose and took a tentative sniff. It smelled of dust and paper, but Harry could get the faintest traces of something warm and flowery, something that made him remember being wrapped in warm arms, feeling safe, secure, and happy.

“Mum...” Harry whispered softly, taking another smell of the old letter before he got to his feet, swallowing thickly. He wouldn't read it there—no that was too risky, too chancy. There was only one place Harry could read the letter in peace—true peace, real safety. He was going to go back down to the Chamber of Secrets, where he knew he was the only one who would be able to get there. He carefully tucked the letter into his pocket and strode out of the bank with a troubled expression that he was unable to hide, but he was also more than ready with an excuse, as he had passed several goblins who where pretending to be under the imperious curse. It was a cover to explain how someone could take off with all that gold without the goblin's noticing. So far, it was working.

He need not have worried, as no one stopped him in town, or on the way up to the school, no one even tried to stop him as he headed through the student crowded halls of Hogwarts and up to the second floor. He struggled with terror as he pondered the things his mother might say to him, might warn him about—Dumbledore and Voldemort, the things she might tell him to do or not to do, the things that Harry most dreaded were her hopes for him...what if she where to be displeased with who Harry had become?

“Harry?” the worried tone of Draco's voice jerked Harry out of his train of thought, worried silver orbs blinking at him as Harry relaxed and smiled at his lover.

“Draco, you startled me... I'm alright just...worried about things.” He promised, kissing the other intently. “I'm heading to one of my secret places.” Harry admitted softly, gently nibbling at Draco's lips. “So I'll probably be gone most of the night...shall I meet you in the Slytherin dorms tonight when I've finished?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. Draco grinned and nodded eagerly as he thought of all the naughty things they might be able to do.

“Of course, I'll let the others know you're coming so they don't try to hex you this time.” Draco promised, Harry snorting a little, feeling calmer and calmer with every word they shared.

“Try is the keyword in that statement.” Harry teased, Draco smirking as he nodded and kissed Harry's forehead, not noticing a troupe of Gryffindor's of all ages glaring violently at him for 'corrupting their savior' as Ron often said.

“Alright, I'll see you later?” Draco asked as the bell chimed, warning that he was going to be late to class. “Call me if you need anything!” Draco ordered, hesitating for a minute until Harry nodded.

Harry watched the blond go, smiling, before he rushed up the nearest staircase, heading for the second floor and straight into Myrtle's bathroom—grateful that the moaning girl wasn't in there at the moment. He hissed at the faucet to open, and then to close as he slid down the slimy tunnel, wrinkling his nose with a violent shudder. Shaking his head a little, he cleaned his clothes as best he could and headed down into the tunnels. Salazar had been very open in telling Harry all about the Chambers, and had even added them onto Harry's 'fancy map of the school' one morning. How the painting had done that Harry would never know, but, he supposed, it didn't really matter either.

He headed into a small antechamber, not willing to move into the big space where the snake lay, rotting away in the dark, and glanced around at the old and rotting furniture with a grimace of distaste—he should have just done this in Gordric's tower, it was cleaner there. Harry couldn't wait long enough to go there now, however, so he simply cast a charm at one of the chairs. The chair swiftly returned it to it's original state and he settled into it, pulling out the letter again and licking his lips nervously.

He suddenly wished he had brought someone with him, Draco, or Tom, or even the little rose colored snake sleeping on his bed, who Harry had yet to name. Anyone to lend him some strength, some bravery to actually open the envelope in his hands. He swallowed thickly and trembled as he finally opened the top, tearing along the seam with his pocketknife, sliding the contents out and staring at the folded paper, for a moment too terrified to even unfold the letter.

He suddenly felt like a small child, about to get a stern scolding for doing something VERY wrong, and even worse...he felt like a damn Hufflepuff. He swallowed hard and carefully straightened out the sheets of paper—muggle paper, some part of Harry noticed—laying most of the papers on a heavily scourgified patch of ground before turning to the first page, and began to read with a lump in his throat as he noticed how pretty his mother's handwriting was.

'My beloved son,

I write this letter to you because I fear for you, and what is to come. As I sit here next to your crib where you sleep so peacefully, I feel the bone deep terror of what is awaiting us. I know you are going to be unaware of many things, and that you may never receive this letter that I write you, but I can have hope, that someday, you will get this, and know that I love you. I pray that this letter finds you in good health and peaceful, happy times, but I know even now that it is unlikely.

The things I am going to tell you are going to shock, and probably horrify you, but they are things you must hear. You must remember, that within life, there are shadows along with light, Harry. There is trouble brewing in the wizarding world, a trouble that can possibly wipe out magic altogether if it's not stopped. If he is not stopped. He is the evil that stalks the things that are required, needed in life's shadows.

No doubt you have been informed that we were on Dumbledore's side, that Voldemort is the bad guy, that he is the one who killed us. All untrue.

We were spies Harry, for Voldemort. We pretended to be on Dumbledore's side, even after discovering the terrible things he did to his sister and Grindelwald. It is Dumbledore who is the evil that lurks in the light, festering, and corroding all that is good, and he will do almost anything to get his way. He used Grindlewald as a stepping stone, a step required to gain power, claiming that the man was a dark wizard, when the only thing about him that was dark was his childhood. Grindlewald was only trying to save us from magical extinction, as Dumbledore is thrusting us towards.

Tom Riddle, who is Voldemort's given name, is also trying to stop Dumbledore. And yet, the 'Light' wizard fights dirtier then a Death Eater, as I'm sure you are aware of by now. Dumbledore is a manipulative bastard, placing Tom in a abusive orphanage where he was beaten nearly daily for being different from the other's. I am sure that you too will placed with a abusive family. I can only hold the desperate hope that you don't end up with that horrid man that my parent's forced Petunia to marry— Petunia is your aunt, in case you have no idea who she is.

I am very sorry for the pain I am sure you have suffered my son, and I am sorry that your father and I could not be there to protect you. Yet, there are things that must be done. Things that you must do to prepare the world for the rebirth of magic, Harry. We have come across a prophecy my son, not the false one that speaks of Voldemort and you, but a real one that speaks of Seraphim, and the Heir of Merlin.

“The Heir to the Throne shall Emerge! Bloodline to Bloodline shall be Met. On Seraphim wings he shall Rise, To rule the wizarding world. friend is foe, and Foe is Friend, to he who should be dead! Twin Seers born of family not by blood, marks upon their brow, all species to him converge, the Heir of Merlin's golden hour. To end a wizards war.”

Dumbledore has also found this, and now will do everything he can from letting it come to pass. Yet, we have found another prophecy, one that we are sure that speaks of you.

"Born as the seventh month dies, the Heir of Gordric shall be born, lighting his way through the world with Seraphim by his side, Heir of Merlin he shall find. Standing side by side, together they shall rule."

This either speaks of you, or of your cousin Neville Longbottom, as you two are the only remaining heirs of Gryffindor's line. The prophecy might even mean both of you, there's never really any telling, with these kinds of things.

I can only hope that you will believe this letter, and will see Dumbledore for the lying murdering bastard that he is. I am sure that by the time you read this, he has already tried to kill you at least once, if not more. He was always fond of 'accidental' deaths, that always benefited him. He might not seem to be involved at all, but you have to trust me Harry—Dumbledore can't be trusted.

If you have the chance, you must find a way to speak to Tom, he can help you, or your cousin, or both of you to find the Heir of Merlin's throne. He has always been our oldest friend-and I do mean oldest- and we would-do trust him with our lives, and have on several occasions. Please my son, you must stop Dumbledore at any cost, and find the Heir of Merlin, who can set magic back to what it was always meant to be. To help you do this we have left something in your possession, which you can find at the end of all these letters.

It is a map, my son, to the Staff of Merlin. The staff is legendary, known only to accept the Heir, and it will help you find them. I do not know how you will have to go about retrieving the staff, as your father and I have never had a chance to retrieve it. I am also sorry that we never had a chance to translate it, as the language is written in Ancient Wiccan, something I am sure that is still not taught at Hogwarts. I can only hope you can find someone to translate it.

The staff works so simply, that I am unsure if the map is fully correct on how to activate it, but I will tell you anyway. You hold it tightly, and speak the words, "I am the Heir of Merlin", and that will activate it. Though only if the true heir is holding it, and the resulting activation is supposed to create a spectacular light show, if you are not...it will go back to sleep, in theory anyways.

Good luck Harry, I hope you will take this letter as truth and play your part in saving the magic in us all. Whether you do or not, succeed or fail, whether you are sided with Dumbledore, or with Tom, or even someone else entirely, I can only tell you this: I will always, no matter what, be proud of you. Your father and I might not be there to tell you, but when you feel the warmth on your skin, or safe within the shadows, then we are always with you. No matter what you do, who you are, who you love, or the path your life takes, we will always love you, and be proud of the man you've become.

With love, your mother

Lily Evans.'

Harry bit back a sob as he finished the letter, closing his eyes as he felt a wave of relief and misery alike rise up inside of him as he realized two things. His parents had been working for Tom, and they had somehow known they where going to die. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, forcing his feelings out of the way, it was no time to be crying. Instead he picked up the map, writing littered it, but Harry didn't understand any of it. Nothing about it even slightly resembled the written language that modern day wizards and muggles alike used.

“Don't worry mom.” Harry murmured, smiling a little as he stroked the letter. “I'll find the Heir to Merlin's Throne, I'm already on it,” he promised closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “I need to find Neville. I bet he and Draco could translate this for me.” He decided, stroking the map a little before shaking his head as he picked up the letter and re-read it, unaware of the troubles that would soon turn his life upside down.

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Draco sighed as he slipped out of his latest detention, shaking his head as he stuffed his workbooks back into his bag. Muttering curses and threats to no one in particular as he walked, he was unaware of the person stalking him. He was followed in silence and as a spell stung his hand causing him to drop his books. Draco's cursing grew in volume and fury as he bent down to pick everything back up, but paused abruptly when he stood, frozen in terror as he realized two things.

He was standing on a platform, thirty feet of empty air between him and the next floor, and there was a wand pressed into his back. He swallowed hard, sliding his eyes to the left to try and see his attacker, but all he got was words spoken by a voice he found so familiar, a voice that filled him with utter terror as he heard the words, laced with fury.

“You took him from me, you took Harry away, and now, with you out of the way, he'll come back to me.” There was no other warning as two hands shoved him, hard over the edge, a scream falling from Draco's lips as he fell over the banister and began to tumble through empty air, twisting to look up at his attacker, but all he caught sight of was red hair before he hit the ground, pain swallowing him as his body broke from the force of landing so hard, and then, only darkness.

A/N: I know, I know you totally hate me for stopping HERE of all places after a ten chapter upload! Well I have a night of unlimited internet thanks to the fact that I'm staying at my grandmothers for the night.

It's going to be a while until I can upload again so please enjoy and I will post again as soon as I can^^

enjoy the Cliffy! Wuahahahaha!
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Heir to the Throne