A Cinderella Story - In the Universe of Harry Potter

There was a time when Hogwarts was a kingdom. A kingdom ruled over by the King James Potter, and his queen Lily Potter.

They had only one son. The heir to the throne when they were to be gone from this world.

Harry Potter, the young prince of sixteen, was nearing his coming of age. He excelled with his Quidditch skills, and also some wand work. Particularly Defense Against the Dark Arts.

They were a strong kingdom in England. There was not one person in their country that didn't know, or hear of Hogwarts. But there was one unhappiness to their luxurious life.

If Harry was to inherit the throne, he was to be married by his seventeenth birthday. Law simply could not abide by anything else.

Now, if only Harry saw it that way.

*~*

Harry Potter, prince of Hogwarts, stood before his full-length mirror, adjusting his fine velvet robes around his lean, Quidditch-toned figure.

He slipped his glasses on and picked up his hairbrush, making yet another frivolous attempt at taming his untidy hair.

"It's no use, Harry," his father's voice sounded, "I gave you that hair. It is rather . . . uncontrollable."

Harry turned away from his mirror, grinning at his father.

If everybody hadn't known any better, they would have thought these two siblings.

They shared the same hair, colour and all; also the same build, hand, and even the same smile.

"Ah yes, let me thank you for this wonderful inheritance, Father," said Harry.

"If you are not cautious, it shall be the only thing you will inherit from me," James chastised his son.

"Oh Father, not this again -" began Harry.

"Yes, this," said James. "I have come to speak with you about your birthday."

"Haven't we spoken of this many times already?" said Harry, exasperated.

"Your father and I only want the best for you, Harry."

Harry's mother Lily entered the bedroom, tucking her auburn hair into a bun.

She shared the same eyes with Harry, and smiled fondly at her son and husband.

"Yes, I understand that," said Harry, "but I can also make decisions for myself."

"You must also take to notice that if you do not marry by the end of the month you will marry Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons," said James.

"I do not even know her!" said Harry. "How is one to succumb to that? It's absolutely insufferable!"

"The joining of our nation and Beauxbatons will make and unstoppable -"

"So now I am just a pawn?" Harry inquired.

"Of course not," said James calmly. "When it comes to an honourable position, one may have to make - er - certain sacrifices. But sacrifices are part of the position that comes with being a king and -"

"Then perhaps I do not wish to be king!" snapped Harry. "It is my life, I shall do as I please -"

"Harry James Potter you listen to me," James said, pinning his son against the wall with one hand. "You will be married by your seventeenth birthday, or -"

"Or what, Father?" Harry smirked. "You'll send me away and be king forever?"

"If the occasion calls for it!" said James, clenching his teeth.

Harry's smirk grew.

"This is not a joke, young man," said James, stepping away from Harry.

"I know this," said Harry, frowning slightly. "But you must understand. I wish to marry a woman I love. Just for her love. Not her money nor her heritage."
"Then you wish to marry a pauper?" James asked incredulously.

"As I have said, Father, I wish to marry the woman I fall in love with, royal or nor," stated Harry.

"Argh - you are impossible!" said James, throwing up his hands in frustration.

"He only gets it from you, James," said Lily calmly, touching her husband's shoulder.

"You are not helping," sighed James, bringing a hand to his eyes.

He began to pace, thinking hard.

"All right, he said. "I shall make you a deal. Your mother and I shall organize a ball one week before your birthday. If you do not choose a wife on this ball, I shall announce your marriage to Fleur Delacour. . . Do we have a deal?"
He stopped pacing, offering his hand.

Harry hesitated, biting his lip.

A week. One week to find a wife, if fate shall have it. . .

"Deal," he finally agreed, squaring his shoulders as he shook hands with his father.

"Then I shall begin the preparations for the Ball," Lily said. "Every woman within this kingdom shall be invited."

"Including the paupers?" smirked Harry.

James groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Choose wisely, Harry," Lily said, touching her son's cheek and kissing his forehead. "Divorce is only something they do at Durmstrang."

James crossed his arms across his broad chest.

"Now James," said Lily, "you must keep your deal."
She went to him and inclined his head slightly.
"He will make the right decision in the end," she breathed against his ear. "Now," she said, leaning back to kiss the corner of his mouth, "do not forget, your meeting with the Transylvanians today on their issue with Count Dracula."

"Right," said James offhandedly. "Son," he added, inclining his head at Harry. "Lily." He kissed his wife gently on the forehead before swiftly exiting.

Lily turned to Harry, giving a beautiful tight-lipped smile.

"I trust you to make the right decision," she said, pulling her son into a hug. "Just remember, Harry, that this is all for you. Nobody can be accounted to make such an important decision but you."

"Yes, Mother."

*~*~*~*