Chapter 2

May 1803; The Forbidden City, China

A month passed quickly. Perhaps too quickly, Harry often thought. He adapted to life in the Chinese Imperial Court with an ease that surprised many of the Chinese men who made up the Emperor's court. Harry didn't bother to explain that he had learned years ago to reshape himself to fit in rather than to stand out. He had learned to fit the molds that people made for him; The Secret Hidden Under the Stairs, The Delinquent, The Orphan, The Boy-Who-Lived, and The Savior. Becoming just another version of himself, The Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn, was easy. He simply shuffled off the skin that belonged to The Savior and let himself find the edges of who the Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn was.

It was made easier because of the lessons with HuiDa and General Lung Shao Chu. They were teaching him more than perhaps they realized. For once Harry wasn't afraid to let his Slytherin side out. He needed it more now in order to survive. The only reason he had not been executed for being a sorcerer was because he was a useful sorcerer. The Emperor liked that he was able to create dragons unlike any others, and if he was given the impression that Harry could be tamed, then that was fine too. All that mattered was surviving until he held enough power of his own so that those in the court who did not like having a sorcerer, much less an English sorcerer, in the court, could not kill him without repercussion. So he did whatever was needed to make him look friendly and dutifully impressed by the grandeur around him. He followed the lesson given to him with the same fierce passion that allowed him to survive six years at Hogwarts and another year on the run hunting down and destroying horocruxes while avoiding the Death Eaters. He learned all about China, all about the art of warfare, he learned about dragons and people. He learned.

His ability to learn and grasp new things so quickly impressed his instructors and scared others. He knew there were plots afoot, but he ignored them as much as he could without risking his life unnecessarily. General Chu found him a mentor to teach him sword skills and another for martial arts, even as the General taught him tactics and the role of each of the dragon breeds of China. HuiDa continued his training in culture, history, etiquette, and language all the while, silently training Harry about who to trust and how to tell who was your enemy.

And so the month passed quickly.

He worked with Bodhi and Liang in his off hours. Teaching them about what they should be able to do. How to control their fire, how to do flight maneuvers he had used in Quidditch, how to use their sizes to their advantage against bigger or smaller opponents, and how smaller opponents might try to attack them. He taught them everything he could and spent hours sitting in his garden with them telling them stories from his world. He read to them from The Beetle and The Bard, and more from Grimm's Complete Fairytales. And if he slipped in his own life story under the disguise of a fairytale, well, only he would know it.

He enjoyed those hours the best. He enjoyed the serenity that came with leaning against one of them, reading and weaving stories. And as the month came to a close he didn't even mind so much the guard who stayed in the shadows watching him, or the children who occasionally snuck into his corner of the palace, to listen to him. He found himself enjoying the silent companionship the children provided.

He didn't want to disturb that companionship but he did eventually bring himself to speaking to HuiDa about them, asking him if he knew who the children were. It turned out that most of them belonged to servants living in the palace, but there were a few who who were children of courtiers, soldiers, and even the Imperial Family as well. The twins, Li Bin Han and Li Feng, and Gong Su were there almost every day. The three of them were by far the most intrigued by Harry and the dragons. Not that Liang was with him all the time. In fact she really spent most of her time with HuiDa, going home with him each night and returning each day to the palace with him, whereas Bodhi stayed in Harry's garden at night, only leaving Harry when he was sent to his own schooling.

The threesome, quickly became his favorite of the children. They were also the first to actually approach him and sit down next to him during what Harry had silently come to call "story hour." After another week they even began to greet him verbally. The week after that Gong Su brought pastries and steamed buns filled with spiced meat cooked by his mother in the palace kitchens.

"Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away," Harry sung softly, strumming the guitar he had convinced HuiDa to have made for him. "Now it looks as though they're here to stay. Oh, I believe in yesterday."

Gong Su peeked around the corner of the wall, scampering into the garden as if the guard couldn't see him, the twins and two other palace children trailing behind him. They seemed surprised to hear him singing, but paused only momentarily before coming to sit in their usual places. They sat quietly, just listening to Harry sing. By now he knew that all of them could speak English, or at least had picked up enough of it to enjoy his stories.

"Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be. There's a shadow hanging over me. Oh, yesterday came suddenly."

Harry smiled warmly at them, but continued to sing. He carefully watched how they interacted with each other, as always enjoying the simple pleasure of their presence at his side.

"Why she had to go? I don't know, she wouldn't say. I said something wrong, Now I long for yesterday."

Harry watched one of the twins, Bin Han, carefully whispering in Maylin's ear. Most likely she was translating his words for her. Maylin was the youngest of his children, and the daughter of one of the Emperor's concubines. She only came by about once a week, so her English wasn't very good, but she, like all of them, was learning quickly enough. Give it a year and he had no doubt that all of them would be perfectly fluent in English.

"Yesterday love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away. Oh, I believe in yesterday."

Harry let a little of his aching loneliness at the loss of his self and his friends tinge his voice, carefully watching the children from under his lashes to see if any of them caught the change in tone of voice. Most of them seemed to pause, there were a couple a slightly tilted heads, a few crinkled brows, and at least one who hadn't seemed to catch the change in his voice as he sang. Harry wasn't too worried about that one. The boy was destined to be a book keeper like his father. He wasn't likely to have to worry about political intrigue.

"Why she had to go? I don't know, she wouldn't say. I said something wrong. Now I long for yesterday."

Still, Harry wanted the boy to catch on like the others had. He didn't know why just yet. But there was something telling him he needed as many of them on his side as he could possibly sway. He didn't have all the answers, but he was so used to trusting his gut and his magic that he didn't much care for the 'why' at the moment. He ignore it, pushing the concerns to the back of his mind and just let himself go on enjoying the brief respite he got at the end of the day.

"Yesterday love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away. Oh, I believe in yesterday…" Harry's voice trailed off.

"Is sad song," asked Gong Su.

Harry smiled. Gong Su was perhaps his brightest little star. The first to approach him, the first to speak to him, and so far the fastest to pick up English. "I suppose it is."

"You are sad, master Potter?"

"No," Harry smiled at his children. "Just a little wistful, perhaps."

The children, those who understood more than two words of English, nodded knowingly.

Gong Su, the unoffical leader of the little flock, spoke up again. "Will you tell us another story?"

Harry smiled and leaned back against Bodhi's side, comforted by the gentle motion of his body as it breathed in and out."Why not."

Harry thought for a long moment on what story he should read them this time. Mostly he had just been telling them the few stories he remembered off the top of his head, like The Three Brothers. Which had left Gong Su giving him strange looks for a week, and Harry was starting to suspect the boy knew more about his arrival than any child of a cook should. Feeling a bit mischievous, Harry cast a silent spell Hermione had taught him while they were on the run.

With a soft 'pop' a small leather-bound book appeared in his lap. It was a rich earthy brown color with cream pages. The cover was a simple debossed design. It had the title at the top, a strange symbol that looked like two capital R letters resting back-to-back, joined down the middle by a capital T and a capital J. Below that was the authors name. Smiling Harry opened the book, watching the children scoot eagerly closer.

"This book was written before I was born and I am told it was a favorite of my mother's. It is rather famous back home. Full of magic, war, monsters, Gods, and gold. Listen carefully and see if you can figure out what lessons it is meant to impart to the reader. Alright?"

The children all nodded eagerly causing Harry's smile to widen further.

"Very well then," Harry cleared his throat and began to read. "Chapter 1. An unexpected party." Harry glanced up at them briefly, catching sight of the guards moving close enough to hear as well. "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit."

*~*~*~* HP/TEMER *~*~*~*

Later That Evening; Prince Yongxing's Quarters

"Please sit," the Prince waved imperiously towards the small chair near where he lounged comfortably on his bed.

The Prince was dropped in fine silk sleeping robes of dark blue and gold which pooled about him in a manner that was meant to draw a persons gaze across his body and up to his face. His long black hair was, for the first time in Harry's memory, loose, draping gracefully over his shoulders. A part of Harry was nervous to be here, but mostly he was curious. Despite it being Prince Yongxing's word that had spared his life upon his arrival, Harry knew from the whispers of his children, that the Prince did not like foreigners. This contradictory nature in his relationship with the Prince quite baffled him.

Still, Harry had come at the Prince's call, feeling almost eager to see what would happen. He supposed that he had grown used to rushing in to dangerous situation with little caution to his own well being. So, as he had stood outside the door, waiting to enter, he had forced himself to calm down and pay attention. He needed to be aware of the room and everything, and everyone, in it. To that end he took care to carefully look about the room as he had walked in. He had been distracted by the rather sensual appearance of the Prince at first, but he had shook it off quickly enough and went back to taking in the room.

Besides the door he had entered in through there were really only two options for escape if needed. The screen door, which likely opened out to his private courtyard where Lung Tien Lien's gazebo was located, and the window behind the prince. The large window in the wall behind the Prince, also seemed designed to open into the same courtyard because through it Harry could see Lung Tien Lien lounging as well, her piercing gaze watching him carefully.

"The guards tell me you have been telling the children of the palace some rather interesting tales."

Harry licked his lips, eyes quickly darting between the Prince and his dragon companion. "I have, your Highness. I do hope I have not done something wrong by doing so?"

Prince Yongxing waved his concerns off with a single flick of the wrist. "You use this to learn our language better. You teach them the languages of the west in this manner?"

"I suppose I do." Harry shrugged with false nonchalance. "I can be good enough with languages when immersed and I have been told it makes it easier for people to learn that way as well."

"To what goal do you teach them to speak like the English?"

Harry shrugged again and tried to project an air of calm even as he began to feel more worried. "You have ports open to the men of the west. They come into the cities now. Eventually, your people will need to be able to speak and understand what they say verses what they mean. If for no other reason than to ensure they are not cheated with the goods they trade."

"Oh," inquired the Prince, one sculpted eyebrow arching delicately.

"HuiDa took me for a flight over the country and we stopped in Canton where a French ship was moored." Harry pursed his lips, his distaste for what he witnessed clear on his expressive face. "The ceramics they buy, the ones with lovely blue paintings."

The Prince nodded for Harry to continue.

"Your people are selling them for a third of what they are actually worth to the West. The wealthy families of the west pay gold for those and your people are getting trinkets for them. They should be asking for a lot more in money or trade for each piece. At least half a British pound, maybe more. I am sure the British and the French increase the cost of them once imported into their own countries so that they may make a larger profit for themselves."

The Prince's second eyebrow rose as well. It appeared to Harry that the Prince had not realized how valuable the pieces were in trade. His eyebrows dropped back down, brow furrowing in anger at the way his people were once again being treated by the western kingdoms. "Your words are wise and honest. Not what is expected of a westerner."

Harry smiled sadly. "I'm not really a westerner though, am I? These people are not my people. It is not even my Briton."

The Prince watched Harry curiously, his sharp gaze softening just the tiniest bit. Harry sifted a little uneasily. He still wasn't used to the Prince's presence. The Prince, and the Royal Family, pretty much left him to HuiDa, General Chu, and General Sayoran's care. They rarely asked for his presence or his advice.

They spent what felt like hours just watching each other. Eventually the Prince smiled and relaxed his pose even further, his silk robe parting just enough to flash a long strip of caramel colored skin. "I wish you to tell me these stories as well. This tale of The Three Brothers, and the one of The Hobbit."

Harry released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, the rigidity in his shoulders suddenly giving way as he realized the Prince wasn't angry with him, simply pleased. And perhaps a bit curious. "I would be glad to."

With a glance over to the window, where he could see the great pink eyes of Lung Tien Lien watching him, Harry relaxed himself into a more comfortable position and tried desperately to ignore the tempting strip of flesh the Prince left uncovered. He did not need a book this time, for he had long since memorized the tale of The Three Brothers, it being a favorite of his children here.

Taking a long slow breath, Harry let the magic of the story settle over him like a favorite cloak, and began to speak.

*~*~*~* HP/TEMER *~*~*~*

2 Days Later; Harry's Courtyard

"Under the Mountain dark and tall, the King has come unto his hall! His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread, and ever so his foes shall fall," Harry smiled to himself as the children and the guard moved closer. "The sword is sharp, the spear is long, the arrow swift, the Gate is strong; The heart is bold that looks on gold; The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong."

Hidden in the doorway to the courtyard was Prince Yongxing. None of the others had noticed him yet, though they surely would if they happened to look behind them. He was unsure why he had felt the need to come to the courtyard of the Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn, but come he had. Perhaps it was that he had so enjoyed listening to the young man read to him the other night. He had never heard stories such as those that Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn had told him. Perhaps it had been what was in his voice as Harry had told him the tale of The Three Brothers?

Harry felt his heart flutter in his chest at the sight of the prince, nearly stumbling over his words. He didn't know why he should feel so excited to see the prince here, but he was. It felt like he was drunk on champagne, all bubbly and swooning.

"The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, while hammers fell like ringing bells in places deep, where dark things sleep, in hollow halls beneath the fells. On silver necklaces they strung the light of stars, on crowns they hung the dragon-fire, from twisted wire the melody of harps they wrung."

The prince caught his eye again as he tilted his head, just slightly, so that it rested lightly against the doorframe. If Harry had to guess, he thought the prince might be amused by the sight of the children and the guards all sitting at Harry's feet as he read to them. Their faces were filled with eager anticipation, that was so open, so raw it hurt just a little to see because it was a look filled with ghosts. So many ghosts that he had left behind.

"The mountain throne once more is freed! O! Wandering folk, the summons heed! Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste! The king of friend and kin has need. Now call we over mountains cold, 'Come back unto the caverns old'! Here at the Gates the king awaits, his hands are rich with gems and gold. The king is come unto his hall under the mountain dark and tall. The worm of Dread is slain and dead, and ever so our foes shall fall!"

"But why did they kill the dragon," chimed out a voice from the courtyard on the other side of the wall.

Harry's mouth twisted into a small smile for a second, lips trembling as he tried not to laugh. Above the top of the wall he could make out a young girl clinging to the head of a young scarlet and gold dragon. The young girl was a pretty little thing, pale as fine porcelain, with long dark hair coiled atop her head and held in place by jade pins. Harry didn't recognize her, or the young dragon she rode atop, but he did recognize the dragons species as one of the more common ones in the armed forces, in fact it was the same species General Lung Shao Chu.

"That is a fine question, young lady." Harry smiled at her, his eyes twinkling as the other listeners had spun about in place, the guards paling at the sight of the prince. "Have you been listening since I started the tale?"

The girl flushed slightly. "No, Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn. I only started to listen when they came across the spiders."

Harry nodded, setting his book down in his lap. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of how he should address her question. "This tale is not like the tales your parents or the monks told you. This tale takes place in another world. A world that exists only in the minds of the author and the readers."

"Oh," she said intrigued. She crawled up higher onto the wall so that she was fully atop it, her dragon scrabbling along beside, stretching his neck for a better view.

"In this world dragons aren't as numerous as they are here, and they aren't the help friends we have either. In this world the dragons that do exist are few in number, which the inhabitants are thankful for. For the dragons of this world were created by a servant of a merciful God, a servant who was twisted by a vengeful God into creating monstrous dragons whose only purpose was destruction. They were not guardians. They were not protectors or soldiers. They were not friends, or brothers. They were fire and death made flesh."

Harry closed his eyes, fighting away the memories. So many memories that were nothing but danger, fire, and death.

When he opened his eyes he could still see the lingering gaze of the horntail starring him down from above her nest, flames lapping at the air around her mouth. He could still smell his robes burning, he could still hear the students screaming for help and in fear. He could still see the shock on Voldemort's face as the Elder Wand betrayed him.

"Suffice it to say the dragon, Smaug, is not like our fine fellows here in China. He is a wild dragon, one who stole into the King's palace and killed all who lived there, save a few lucky escapees."

Harry closed the book, resting it on his knees, hands resting atop the soft leather cover.

"I want you to imagine that you had never seen a dragon, you had heard only stories of them. Now imagine that you saw one. A dragon so massive it blocked out the light of the sun. Now imagine it was a foreign dragon, a…a French dragon for example. This massive French fire breather comes out of nowhere, burning down the village outside the walls of the palace, gobbling up all the people it came across before breaking through the palace walls, killing the guards, killing the princesses and the princes, before chasing down the Emperor so that he could kill him and take all the riches of China as his own."

The girls eyes widened, horrified by the very idea, before a steely resolve filled them. "Our dragons would stop him. No western dragon can match ours."

"Perhaps," replied Harry. "But in this story the dwarves do not have any dragons of their own as friends and allies. Their only way to protect their people is send the non-combatants into the shelter of the mountain while the warriors take to arms. Their only protection is to kill what threatens them with their own hands. If China was threatened by an invading force that was so much more massive, so much more dangerous, than anything here could compare to…would you not stop at anything to protect your people?"

"Of course not. If my life saved the empire," the girl took a deep breath. "If it save the villages, and the princes and princess…if it saved the Emperor…then I would cast it aside like ash on the wind."

Harry smiled. "Death before dishonor…"

"Sir," asked one of the guards.

"It was a saying from another great tale." Harry smiled. "This was a very long series of stories that took place over a period of two hundred years. This story took place far into the future." Harry crept forward, leaning towards his audience. "In a time when mankind was united as one people. In a time when we had made our way into the stars, crossing from star to star to see all worlds that circled them."

Harry smiled as he noticed the Prince straighten up, interest sparked in his eyes.

"The author of the tales created alien races shoes cultures were inspired by cultures on Earth, but also by his own ideals of what society should become. The saying 'Death before dishonor' came from one of those races. He called them Klingons. And they were a warrior people. I think you might also like another of their sayings…"

Harry smiled, a wicked grin. "Today is a good day to die."

"I do not understand?"

Harry smiled sadly, knowingly. "Today is never truly a good day to die. Not unless your death protects the people you love most. But among the Klingons death in battle was the most honorable way to die."'

The girl sighed. "Is suppose I understand."

Harry let his smile relax into something more real. "You need not understand yet. Hopefully you would never need to understand. But perhaps I could leave with another few words of wisdom…All that is needed for Evil to triumph is for Good men, and women, to do nothing." Harry looked t them all carefully, slowly. "I would like you to think on that tonight."

"You tell us one of the stories of star travelers," ask Gong Su.

"Perhaps. I have a great many tales I could tell you."

"You tell us tale of the country you were born in," Gong Su asked.

"I suppose I could tell you a tale that takes place in the England." Harry looked up at the sky thoughtfully. "Let me look through the books I have. Perhaps I have something that might also teach you a bit about the culture and it social expectations of it's citizens."

The Prince looked thoughtful. "Do so, Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn. Teach them about the westerners so that they may learn to see and hear them properly."

Harry looked over at the Prince and blushed under the intense dark gaze that seemed so familiar and so strange all at once.

"Teach them of your western pride. Teach them of the prejudice they would face in your lands. Teach them how to become invisible or visible at choice among the western peoples."

"Pride and prejudice?" Harry chuckled. "Oh, I think I know a story that could work."