"Blimey! It's Harry Potter," Pansy Parkinson's scratchy voice called out as her dull blue eyes locked on the princely figure walking down the aisle. Oh how she wished the Malfoy heir her parents had engaged her to could look so regal, but he was only the heir to a lordship not a full blown prince. She blushed though, from her hair to her neck as she realized what she had just done. She had interrupted the ceremony and now she could practically feel the magic of those around her become excitable.

Shouts soon carried out among the human's present, each calling out its own shock at finding the lost Potter boy in Le Fay's castle. "SILENCE," a voice called out the intent and will alone providing the magic for a room wide silencing spell to take hold. All eyes turned upon a very agitated Dark Witch as she glared furiously at the wizards and witches assembled. "So this is what the people of the Kingdom have become? A zealous group of celebrity hounds? I invite you into my castle to attend my heir's tenth celebration of his birth and you behave like a pack of wild dogs?"

Her eyes scanned the group of humans before landing on the girl who had originally called out. "You, come stand before us, Child." Gulping, Pansy moved away from the protection of her mother and father to step closer to the magnificent gold throne as the Prince, his face a tightly controlled mask of indignation, walked to his mother's side. "Now, girl, tell us what makes you believe that my son is this Harry Potter you called out?"

The young raven haired girl's hair stood on end as the magic that bound her vocal words was released. "I… I'm sorry You Grace, but the newspapers back home described him," she stated quickly. "Messy black hair, his mother's eyes, his father's poor eyesight and the need for glasses, and the lightning bolt scar…" she trailed off as she gazed at the tanned boy, his hair tamed and slicked back in a ponytail, no glasses adorning his icy green eyes and no scar upon his forehead. "Almost none of which describes the prince, please forgive me."

"Do not fret, child," the queen said as she sat back on her throne, a faun rushed forward with a chair immediately for Harry to sit on seconds after his mother had sat. "You are quite right, the Prince before you was at one time, Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter," the crowd would have gasped if their vocals weren't still seized up by a power so great even their wands couldn't undo it. "However, that was before the blood adoption beneath the full moon, regenerating his body and adding my blood to the mix. He is now, and forever more, Harry Le Fay."

With a twitch of her finger the adults and children other than Pansy seemed to gulp for air. "Not that any of you can tell anyone," she continued with a smirk upon her lips. "The invitation held a special wording and incantation. 'All who are invited may attend as no word of the events that take place may be spread'. You are all bound by magic to never breathe a word of my son's true identity until such time as he and I feel the need to release it."

The woman in the Vulture topped hat stepped forward, nearly bristling with indignation. "So you cast a spell on us without our knowledge and have turned the Boy-Who-Lived into some sort of Dark Lord in training," she asked furiously, her aged face hardened as she kept a grip on the back of her son's shirt. "If I had known this would be a Dark Wizard gathering I would have never accepted."

The queen had to fight the urge to throw her head back and laugh. "Light and Dark are such quaint notions on magic, how it works, and those who use it. No light is pure, Madam, and no darkness unfathomable. Take old Emrys, Merlin for you younger generations," she added looking at many children's confused faces. "You hold him in such esteem; ignoring the fact he worked with Uther Pendragon to start a war for my mother. He cast a glamour spell on Uther to give him the appearance of my father to bed my mother and breed that retched bastard Arthur as my father lay dying on the battlefield. Merlin was far darker than you'd care to imagine."

Harry was bored listening to his mother go on about things he had known since infancy, she had told him the story countless times. Instead, like any ten year old would, his eyes gazed longingly on the table covered in gifts and food. He also idly wondered what Hephaestus had hidden under the cloth, just what could a god make for a boy like him? He also wondered if the other kids would like to horseback riding, or maybe play tag like he and his mother often did when they had time. "Mother, perhaps you and the other adults would like to meet after the party," he hazarded saying, his voice seemingly ripping the woman away from her tales of Merlin's past exploits.

"Quite right, darling," Morgana said with a compassionate smile toward her young son. "It is time for gifts and then the feast. We older folks can talk about our boring old lives and view points while you children entertain yourselves," the queen said with false serenity as she her eyes returned to the fuming aged woman. "Go on now, dear, open your presents and make friends amongst those your own age."

With glee only often found in the young, Harry jumped out of his chair and quickly grabbed both a shivering Neville and a still tomato faced Pansy and pulled them to the table lined with gifts. "Come along, come along, I'll open yours first," he said excitedly as he found he began looking through the marked gifts. It suddenly occurred to him he didn't know anyone's names. "My apologies, I have forgotten to request your names."

"Pansy P… Parkinson."

"N…Neville Longbottom."

"Right, Parkinson and Longbottom," he said as he bit his lower lip in an attempt to memorize their names to go along with their faces. After several seconds his eyes turned to the presents again. "Milly, bring me the presents of Parkinson and Longbottom," he called out, and a moment later the little elf appeared handing Harry two presents. "My thanks to you, Milly, I'll probably require your services to find the other children's presents as well."

Looking between the two presents and then back up at the children he smiled. "Ladies first," he said before tearing the brown wrappings and revealing a broom care servicing kit. "Oh my, how did you know I like to fly," he asked with a smile at Pansy which caused the girl to blush even more. Setting her gift aside he proceeded to tear apart Neville's present, revealing a small sapling in a pot. "An Abyssinian Shrivelfig," he said happily with a look at the pudgy boy whose eyes went wide at the fact the Prince knew what it was. "They don't grow on the island naturally, but my tutors in herbology and potions spoke about its uses in shrinking solutions. I shall treasure this gift Neville Longbottom and yours as well, Pansy Parkinson."

And it continued down the line as Harry gathered quite a pile consisting from books to what peasants obviously considered high fashion. With each gift the Prince conversed with the child of the family who had brought it keeping a happy smile on his face as he finally celebrated a birthday with children his own age. From the centaurs and fauns, Harry gathered lots of specialized herbs and fungi and even a few small tree saplings which he promised to look after.

The goblins though held back near Hephaestus, talking to the former god in low tones and in their own language which the god seemed to understand rather well. Finally the big man stepped forward, dwarfing everyone in front of him. "My Prince, as a gift for you I worked closely with the Goblins and Dwarves to produce something astounding using a combination of magic and the mundane humans' technology." Stepping back he tore the sheet from an array of metallic apparel. "I took a leave from the village to meet with the Fates. Though they would not tell me all, they told me that this helm and armor would be but the beginning of your true title."

The armor was shimmering silver in color, linked together by a thick black material the prince had never before encountered. Though the armor appeared thick it was scattered about almost at random with large gaping openings that revealed the thick black material beneath. Some whispers of discontent could be heard about the use of muggle inventions, but they were ignored by those who knew just how advanced the technology outside their world was. "I will go more in depth about its abilities later my prince, but we have named it 'Mjolnir'," the former god said with a gap toothed smile.

Harry gazed in wonder at the armaments wanting to try them then and there, but he knew his mother would never allow it. "They are beautifully constructed, Hephaestus. I would have expected no less being the products of the dwarves, goblins and a fallen god." The former god smiled at the praise as the goblin's moved forward and produced a heavy packet. A quick flip through showed Harry the receipts and papers for the biggest purchase he and his mother had yet dared. The deed of the Ministry of Magic stared up at him and caused him to smirk at the goblins who answered his with their own. "We'll keep this between us until we can speak to mother."

"Speak to me about what dear," Morgana's voice said from over his shoulder, making him jump. Turning he saw his mother's sharp gaze take in the papers in his hand before she gently took them from him. "Indeed, we will speak more of this later," she said adding a smirk of her own to the goblins as she handed the papers back to them for safe keeping. "Now, for your mother's gifts," she said before pressing a kiss to her son's temple causing him to blush in front of his future subjects.

"Hephaestus if you would," the queen said with a look at the blacksmith who pulled the cloth from before back further, revealing a glimmering sword of a metal Harry had never before seen. The blade was a shimmering opal white and nearly as tall as the prince and just as wide with a glimmering ruby at the base. The guard was curved toward the hilt with four poles aimed in the upward around the curve. The hilt was bare of ornaments, a strong rod that called to the young wizard.

Reaching forth with both hands, Harry grabbed the hilt and struggled as he lifted the weapon off the table, nearly collapsing and dropping it. The blade shimmered before a peaceful blue hue formed along its middle, leaving the outer edge so white it nearly seemed transparent. "This is not a toy, my darling," Morgana said quietly as the whole room hushed at the sight of the weapon. "As Arthur held Excalibur you now hold a sword created by the divine of your very own. It is an ultimate weapon with which you shall guard your kingdom."

AN: Another chapter down, didn't get to the feast, sorry. I'll give three guesses as to what the armor and sword are from though, and yes I did steal them for the purpose of an ultimately badass King Harry. I'll give you a hint though; I really like the number 7. Whoever names them both can decide the first girl in Harry's harem, so long as it isn't Ginny. And you have to have PM accessible, or else how am I going to get a hold of you?