Chapter Text
A jester was able to say whatever he pleased without reaping the consequences of his actions, at least that's how it usually was. Harry had read tales of Greek heroes and gods, he was like Icarus. His jokes had flown him too close to the sun, and his wings were getting burned.
His plunge wasn't graceful, not anything of the sort. It was quick, sudden, and disorienting.
One minute Harry was making jokes for the king, the next, he was out on his ass with nothing but his hat and bells to keep him company as he sought out a new court to entertain.
Harry caught a ride on the back of a wagon full of hay, pulled by an old man on a horse who said he wanted nothing in return, apart from a little bit of entertainment once they arrived at the kingdom over. Harry plucked his hat off of his head, the bells jingling slightly as he pressed the fabric to his chest. An annoyed huff escaped his lips. None of this was his fault, none of them could take a bloody joke! Sure, he was hilarious, until he made a reference to the Queen cheating on the King and suddenly he was a martyr. Not his fault that the king was painfully insecure about the incident despite the fact it happened years ago, maybe it was the lingering…effects of her infidelity.
The country passed by quickly, maybe because Harry was imagining all the ways he could embarrass his old king if they ever happened to cross paths again. Perhaps he would bring up when he was drunk that one time.
The kingdom they were approaching was gorgeous, silver arches and beautiful red roses surrounding the wall protecting the town within. As the carriage passed through the threshold, Harry could see why people whispered about the beauty of the kingdom. The houses were beautifully built, with lush greenery trying to claim buildings back into the earth as if they belonged there in the first place.
The sound of kids laughing was a familiar one to Harry, he heard laughter all the time. Mostly because he was the subject of laughter. He hopped off of the wagon, slipping a joker card into the old man's back pocket with a sleight of hand that had been developed over years of deceit. Gently placing his hat on his head, Harry walked deeper into the kingdom. He could feel stares on his whole body, something he was used to by now.
A group of kids rushed up to him, though to be fair they looked more like teens. Children none the less to someone like Harry. “Are you a jester?” One of the boys sneered, the spikes in his hair were more obnoxious than the hat on Harry’s head. “Well yes I am, I am a jester, I am!” He responded, slightly leaning forward to look down at the teenagers. Harry tilted his head at them, before quickly jumping in their faces. “Boo!” His grin widened as the group jumped, giving him looks as if he was the odd one. “Werdio….” A girl muttered, tugging her friends away from the strange Jester that spoke like he was having a seizure.
Harry giggled to himself, skipping down the streets of the kingdom without a care in the world. He hadn't been aware there was a market going on, but that became more apparent when he saw a bunch of stalls set up, and people trying to attract those walking by.
A Jester walking down the street wasn't seen very often, Harry deduced that from the way he was being stared at. His eyes were caught by one specific stall run by two red heads, one looked slightly older than the other, and he was missing an ear. The other one was obviously younger with long, gangly limbs. Their stall was filled with what looked like joke, prank, and mischief products.
Harry approached them with glee, practically hopping over, his face paint making his grin seem even wider. “Well hello there mate! You look quite interesting don't you?” The older one said with a grin, "I'm George, this here is my younger brother Ron.” George gestured to the younger man, Ron, who waved with slight awkwardness. Harry liked him. “Im Harry, Harry Potter the pleasure is not mine.” He responded while dipping lowly, his hat falling off his head as he did. He quickly caught it in his hand, flipping it back onto his head with ease.
George seemed delighted with Harry, leaning against the table of his stall with an air of interest. Ron looked like he was trying to figure Harry out. “How about I help you lovely jubbly lads sell these here products, in exchange for a place to sleep tonight?” Harry said, putting a finger to his cheek and smiling. George weighed it for about 2 seconds before his grin returned and he nodded. “Deal, but beware our mother will fatten you up when she sees how darned skinny you are.” He gestured for Harry to join him and Ron behind the stall, to which he did, draping himself all over Ron with relaxation. Ron seemed confused, but also amused as hell with the Jester. “You’re bloody odd, mate.” He snorted, patting Harry’s hand with a feigned dramatic flair that the jester appreciated.
Selling joke products as a jester was incredibly easy, all Harry had to do was entertain them for a bit, and the children would beg and beg their parents for the toy he had been showing off.
Ron admitted it was the best their business had done in a while, kids kept dragging their parents over to see the ‘strange clown’ The nickname made Harry feel a twinge of indignation, because he was a jester, not a clown. He was free, while clowns weren't. He could say whatever he wanted under the guise of entertainment. Clowns had to watch their backs, jesters didn't. Once the crowd thinned, Harry helped George and Ron pack up their stall, and carry the gear back home.
Their home was chaotic, but it was cozy. Many people rushed around, multiple voices filling the air as they entered. “George, Ron!” A lady (Harry assumed was their mother) said happily, gathering the two into a hug. Her eyes dragged past the two, before landing on the jester, holding his hat, his face covered in paint. “And who's this?” She smiled, her warmth almost giving Harry whiplash. “This lovely lad is Harry. He helped us with sales today, as long as he could stay here tonight.” George drawled, a lazy smirk gracing his sharp features. The lady's smile never wavered, and even Harry himself couldn't catch even a glint of deceit in her eyes. “Of course Harry can stay! I'm Molly Weasley, dear. Welcome to our home!” She chirped happily, tugging him into a hug. She gasped as she did, quickly pulling back. “Oh my goodness Harry! You’re so thin, come come. I must get some food in that body of yours, you’re practically wasting away!”
Molly quickly pulled Harry into the kitchen where five other people were sitting, and sat him down at the table like he had always belonged there. While George and Ron explained who Harry was, Molly bought out trays stacked with food, and placed them on the table. Harry watched as the family quickly piled their plates with bread, potatoes, meat, and a few vegetables. It felt wrong to him, he hadn't been allowed to eat this much for years. Yes, most jesters were valued and fed whenever they want, but Harry was graced with possibly the worst, and tyrannical king in existence.
The other members' plates were stacked high, while Harry carefully plucked a roll from the pile and placed it on his plate. It was like Molly could sense it, because her head snapped towards him and she practically appeared next to him with a tray in her hand. “I can't have this, you must eat more than just that roll sweetie!” She tutted, piling potatoes onto his plate. Harry tried to protest, but Molly wasn't having it. She put food on his plate till she was satisfied, then sat back down at her own seat next to her husband, who he had learnt was named Arthur.
The conversation flowed around the table easily. The family tugged at Harry to join conversations, it was like he was always there, like he was a part of the family and like the photos on the wall were just missing him in the portrait.
The food was absolutely delicious. Harry had always heard of the term made with love but he had never thought that actually applied to food until he had tasted Molly Weasley's cooking. The potatoes were cooked to perfection, crisp on the outside and soft on the inside. Perfectly seasoned so that flavors exploded in his mouth whenever he took a bite, and topped with a delicious creamy gravy.
It tasted like home, something Harry hadn't felt in a long time, home had never been at the castle, home had been whenever Harry felt safe and he'd never felt that behind those cold and desolate walls. He felt like was going to be slapped just for eating like a normal human being. But he didn't. He got to eat in peace listening to the soft hum of voices flow around him. It was nice and calming, something that Harry rarely felt in his life as a jester, a fool, someone that was seen as nothing but an entertainer.
He couldn't help but admire the strong genes the family had. They were all ginger with most of them having sharp features obviously having gotten them from their dad, though his features had rounded out with his age. The most handsome in Harry's opinion was the one that they called Bill. His face was sharp and his nose was surprisingly perfect, he wouldn't dare say that yet, though. He'd wait for that, later, he'd make a joke out of it so then they think he's just messing around. But Harry was deadly serious about how handsome the man was.
“George, stop stealing my potatoes!” Ron yelled, his voice filled with indignation as he tried to stab the stolen potatoes back off George's plate. George merely cackled with laughter, almost doubling over and hitting his forehead on the table. Molly chastised them both for being so childish at the dinner table; while one of the other brothers, Percy, just watched with mild disappointment as he picked up his fork and delicately nibbled on a piece of his meat.
Charlie and Ginny both seemed fairly normal, both inheriting the heavy ginger genes and sharp features. Ginny looked like her mother and Harry no doubt believed that Ginny looked like a younger version of Molly Weasley. He could practically feel the resemblance between the two.
Harry knew he was being silent but being silent was good because it meant he was observing. He'd always been good at observing, something that he needed to learn to do in the Royal Court, something that would keep him alive for long. Knowing when nobles were lying was one of two very important tools that Harry kept in his tool belt at all times, the other one was the ability to pick locks. He was really good at picking locks, he'd done it multiple times back at the old castle he'd never been found out. He had always made sure that he was too sneaky for any of the guards to find out.
Harry very quickly flipped his switch back on, smiling brightly as he gently swung his head side to side; the soft jingle of the bells on his hat filled the room. “Arent you lot an interesting bunch,” He announced, his smile getting even wider “Oh the humanity, the humanity!” Harry remarked, suddenly pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. The family watched in slight confusion, but mostly interest and amusement .
They knew he was performing, he always performed. It was what he was best at, truly. A hero born with a jester hat on his head and the ability to either make people love him or want to kill him.
“You kind of speak in riddles.” Ginny drawled, though it was more like a statement. Harry laced his fingers together, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her. “I don't speak in riddles, the riddle speak to me and I merely say what they tell me. I say what they whisper into my ear when I was am full of sleep.”
The looks the family gave Harry were full of fascination, George especially looked like he was gonna explode with curiosity as he looked at the Jester. “I knew you were gonna be interesting the moment I laid eyes on ya!” George grinned, ruffling Harry's hair. It was already a bird's nest, but now it was even worse. Harry laughed, an actual genuine laugh, something he hadn't done in a long time. This laugh was not for the entertainment of those around him, for this laugh was soft and real.
The Weasley family could feel it, because they looked at him with a tenderness that Harry found strange. It felt nice, though. To be looked at like he was truly loved. Because he hadn't been looked at like that in a long time. “So what's the king like here?” Harry suddenly said, gently chewing on a potato. Arthur looked up from his food, glancing at Molly. “He’s a dickwad,” Ron stated, obviously disinterested. “He is pretty handsome though.” Ginny added ,but not with the level of obsession that a teenager had, more like in observation which Harry respected. “Oh really?” Harry drawled, leaning forward – now interested in the king. “Oh now that you found out he's handsome, you’re interested.” George said a tone of mischief in his voice. Harry feigned a guilty look though he didn't actually feel the emotion. “Oh no you've caught me!” He wailed dramatically, putting a hand over his heart. “I came to this Kingdom to steal the heart of the king. They say it's cold but I intend to make it as warm as the sun.” Harry joked, trying to look as determined as he could muster without bursting into loud laughter. Ron snorted, “Good luck with that mate. The last jester he had, he got bored of. You'd have to be very interesting to entertain him. Though you are incredibly interesting, so maybe have a chance. I'm sure Hermione would agree with me.”
Molly let a small smile grace her face at the name Harry hadn't heard yet, “Whose Hermione?” Harry inquired, leaning forward. Ron suddenly looked very flushed, “My girlfriend.” He started to tumble over his words, something about them meeting in school and eventually falling in love during their second to last year. “It feels like a fever dream to me.” he said, looking like a lovesick girl. Harry merely raised an eyebrow at his hopelessly in love and devoted act.
“So, ever had a girlfriend or boyfriend Harry?” George asked, to which he shook his head quickly and dramatically. “No, I never had a partner. For love is merely a thorn in the performance of a true jester. A true performer can never let his performance be controlled by feelings.” Harry said quickly it was almost like a mantra at this point. Many times he had thought about falling in love, but many times he had been reminded of the consequences of doing so.
Maybe one day he'd find love, but for now he wouldn't. For now he wouldn't break the rule that he'd been following since he was in diapers, since the king had found him on the doorstep and picked him up and decided that the newborn baby would be his future jester. Harry wasn't raised with love, he was raised with humor. He was raised to be quick and sharp with his words; he was raised to know how to entertain. He decided to quickly change his subject, for he would die if he had to listen to Ron go on about how much he loved his girlfriend. "So is your king really that interesting?" Harry inquired, ignoring the fact that George definitely thought he wanted to know more because he had heard the man was handsome. "His name is King Draco, people say he's incredibly cold and cruel," Ginny piped up, a small smirk on her face "I heard he's never even had a lover." She mumbled around her fork, chewing on a piece of potato.
Harry liked the sound of that, he liked a challenge. He was going to infiltrate the king's court, and become the man's personal jester if it was the last thing he did. And it very well could be, for King Draco could have his head chopped off without so much as a side glance. "Well that settles it then, I'm gonna become Draco's jester!" Harry stated, leaning back in his seat with growing confidence.
Ron looked at him like he had grown a third head, maybe he had. "Why would you bloody want that!?" Ron sputtered, his mouth agape with shock. George reached out and pushed Ron's jaw back up, his teeth clicking as his mouth was forcefully shut. He gave George a withering glare, rubbing his jaw with the palm of his hand — his fingers pressing against the side of his face. "You're a dickhead." Ron huffed simply, turning back to Harry with an indignant look in his eye. "Why would you ever want to be part of the royal court," He started "You have no freedom at all!" His voice rose slightly higher, a sign of his disbelief. "Clearly you know nothing of jesters," Harry drawled, lacing his fingers together. "We can say whatever we want under the guise of it being a joke. I can insult the king with no one taking my words seriously." He let out a small giggle, rocking back and forth on the chair.
“I always tell the truth.”
—----------------------------------------------
The bedroom the family gave him was quite nice, and Molly insisted he stay for as long as he needed, as long as he kept helping with sales every so often. Harry had agreed, because free lodgings were far better than trying to scrape together the money to buy it himself.
He slept soundly that night, only waking up a few times which Harry chalked up to being in a new environment. The next morning he rolled out of bed, not bothering with his usual getup; he simply slid his glasses onto his face and walked down the stairs into the kitchen.
The clink of forks against plates stopped as he rounded the corner, the family was looking at him with wide eyes. Harry looked incredibly different without jester makeup on, you were able to properly see his smooth skin, and sharp features that had been hidden behind a mask of humor. “Holy shit.” George said simply, Ron’s fork clattered onto his plate, his jaw dropped. “‘What the hell?!” He immediately got up and rushed over to Harry, grabbing his face and inspecting it closely. “Bloody hell, you’re handsome! Like actually handsome.” He announced looking back at his family who nodded in agreement. “It's not that big of a deal.” He muttered, his voice thick with sleep. Ron looked like he was gonna faint on the spot, “If I was gay, I'd snatch you up.” Ron said seriously, his eyes fixed on the man.
Harry slowly raised an eyebrow, putting his hands on Ron’s shoulders. “Uh, thanks?....” He faltered, leading the other man back to the table, and sitting down beside him.
I mean, Harry knew he looked different without his makeup on, but it couldn't have been that of a stark contrast, could it? Maybe he should've taken his shirt off and shown Ron, maybe then he would've actually fainted.
Harry snorted at the thought, putting some bacon on his plate. The conversation eventually started back up, but occasionally someone would glance at Harry with an air of shock, like they were remembering again and again that he was actually handsome under all that makeup.
Ron was unable to talk without stammering for the next ten minutes, but after a while he was able to communicate properly again, which was a relief. Though it was pretty hilarious to watch him stumble over his words like that. “Harry, you came just in time! Today is the Ophis Festival, for the king's birthday!” Ginny said excitedly, looking around the table for similar excitement. “The what festival?” Harry questioned, momentarily pausing his chewing to listen. “The Ophis Festival,” Ginny chirped again, “It's the Greek word for snake. The king loves snakes.” She continued, her eyes shining. “There will be a bunch of celebrations, and new stalls going up just for today, so after breakfast we should all get ready and go out together!”
That sounded great actually, and Harry quickly agreed which seemed to excite the family. He helped wash the dishes, which Molly called him a sweetheart for doing. It's not like it was a big task, but it seemed a big deal to her, maybe because most of her children did anything to avoid doing the dishes. ‘Aren't you a dear!” She cooed warmly, gathering Harry into a warm hug that made him tingle. He gave her a smile, before retreating back to his room to change. He put his usual outfit on, including the hat, but skipped out on the facepaint today. There wasn't enough time to do it this morning, and he also wanted to impress.
—-----------------------------------------
The festival was bright and colourful, which Harry found interesting considering the king seemed to prefer silver and green. Though he did find all the colours quite pretty. Ron dragged him along in excitement, spending his money quickly on sweets and anything cool that caught his eye.
Harry observed each stall, but his eye was caught by a beautiful stall run by an old couple. They had beautifully made daggers, and for some reason, Harry found himself drawn to the silver and green one. “Hello dear! Are you interested in that dagger there? It's one of my favourites. It's made from emerald and silver, and there is a snake around the top of the handle.” The old woman said, smiling gently. Harry returned the smile, nodding gently. “Yes it's quite gorgeous, how much?” He asked, pulling out his pouch that he kept his coins in. “Oh usually it is 20 gold coins, but you are a handsome young man. I'll sell it to you for fifteen.” She smiled, and Harry felt warmth spread through his chest. How kind of her. He thought to himself as he counted out the coins.
After buying the dagger, he quickly made his way back to the family, slipping his new dagger carefully into his pocket. “These are so good.” Ron mumbled , his mouth full of newly bought chocolates. Harry cackled, watching as the man attempted to stuff another in his mouth.
“Ronald, what in the world are you doing.” A female voice chastised, and Harry found it belonged to a pretty young woman with bushy hair.
Ron quickly swallowed the chocolates, looking embarrassed “Hey…’mione…” He mumbled, looking away from her. Harry assumed this was Hermione, and he was proved correct when she turned to face him. “I'm sorry, how rude of me. I'm Hermione Granger, and you are?” She asked, a small smile on her face as she stuck out her hand. “Harry.” He responded, returning her smile and shaking her hand with a soft grip. “A jester I assume, though that's quite obvious.” Hermione said with a soft grin, and Harry chuckled. “How’d you guess?” He responded, looking around as if it was a massive secret. “Hey, stop stealing my girlfriend.” Ron grumbled, huffing as he stepped closer.
“Oh I would never, I want you more than her.” Harry sighed dreamily, throwing himself over Ron. “Oh Ronald! Hold me!” He exclaimed, pressing himself into the man's chest. Ron smirked, responding in tone “I'll never let you go Harry!” He gasped, holding the jester close. Harry and Ron continued this act for the next ten or so minutes, much to the amusement, and annoyance of Ron’s family, and Hermione. They skipped around the market holding hands like it was a full time job, and Harry kept batting his eyes at Ron, to which the man cackled. They were forced to end their little act when Ron almost knocked over a stall after Harry threw himself into his arms. They just laughed and went back to walking side by side normally.
The rest of the family occasionally bought stuff, chattering as they visited each stall one by one. Molly adored every stall and what it was selling, so they ended up staying at each spot for a couple of minutes. Harry didn't mind it at all, it was quite nice to have so much company. Especially since they were choosing to be with him, just for himself. Not because he was meant to entertain. They chose to bring him along, because they actually like him as a person. Which made Harry feel warm inside. The only ‘love’ he had experienced was the family his past king put him with to raise him outside of his jester duties. Their idea of love was locking him in a cupboard, and forcing him to starve. Not exactly a picture perfect family, but it was all he had. Even as he stayed up late to draw birthday cards, despite the fact they were all tossed away.
Harry couldn't count on his fingers and toes the amount of times his heart had been crushed in that house. Eventually, he was transferred to live at the castle full time. Being there was slightly better, apart from the fact the king would beat him behind closed doors. To nobles, he was ‘my amazing jester’ behind closed doors, he was a ‘disgrace to the kingdom.’ He’d gotten good at hiding his black eyes under carefully done face paint, never letting the truth peak through. Which was ironic because all of his jokes were the truth. Harry shook the thoughts away, plastering a smile back on his face. He wouldn't let old memories ruin his chance to make new ones, to plague good times with the thought of the past. That was the one thing he wouldn't allow to happen.
So he talked with Charlie about different species of dragons, he spoke with Percy about chess, and he spoke with Bill about his work at the kingdom's bank. The conversations flowed easily, and Harry listened to everything each of them were saying.
Because they were talking to him like an actual person, not just a performer.
He heard distance squeals, but he assumed they were from a group of girls looking at a stall. The family continued down the street, idly chatting amongst themselves with ease. Harry turned around to chat with Ron, who was behind him. He took each step carefully to make sure he didn't trip, he was walking backwards afterall.
Apparently Harry didn't hear Ron yell you a warning, too immersed in telling a story about a joke he had made years ago. His back hit something solid, and he stumbled forward slightly. Everyone around him seemed to fall silent, though he had no clue why. Harry turned around to look at what he had bumped into, ready to apologize if it was a person. He was met with a pair of narrowed grey eyes, and a shining crown.
King Draco.
People gasped, and a few people's faces went white with shock, and fear. A group of teenage girls nearby snickered, whispering amongst themselves. “What an idiot,” One said “That's why he's a clown.” Another replied with a high, shrill laugh.
Harry huffed, he was a jester not a clown. He quickly realised this was not the time to be worried about that, especially as he remembered who he had just bumped into.
Well fuck, im dead. He thought, but quickly plastered a smile onto his face.
“Your highness! I'm incredibly sorry, I didn't see your incredibly firm chest there. I felt it before I saw it.” Harry drawled, looking slightly up to meet the man's eyes, a lazy smirk plastered onto his face. This would either work, or get him killed. “And who are you?” Draco said coldly, his gaze sweeping over Harry’s clothes. “A jester. How…interesting.” He sneered, turning his nose up at him. Harry wanted to smack him across the face, but that would definitely get his head cut off.
“I said I'm sorry, your highness! If I saw you first, I would've stopped to admire your handsome face. My what pretty eyes you have.” Draco’s eyes narrowed even further, though his mouth twitched, Harry continued. “I suppose I could give you a free show, would that make you feel better? I could do it for you and for nobles…or just you.” He whispered, tilting his head slightly. The king looked down at him, a small, cold smirk spreading across his face. “Oh yeah?” He replied simply, as if encouraging Harry to continue.
Which he did. “Oh yeah. Card tricks,” Harry flicked his hand, showing Draco a joker card “Or a trick with dice.” He threw a green die into the air, catching it between his teeth. Draco raised a singular, perfectly platinum eyebrow. “Interesting.” He said simply, reaching out a gloved hand to grab Harry’s chin, turning his face side to side. “You will do.” Draco smirked, releasing the man from his grip. He quickly straightened out his robes, his eyes glinting with curiosity and a hint of excitement. “Tomorrow, come see me in my castle. My guards will let you in.” Draco stated, loud enough for bystanders to hear, before he continued his graceful walk down the street.
“Oh, your highness!” Harry called out, quickly turning around. Draco looked over his shoulder, eyebrow raised as the jester grinned. “Happy birthday.” He drawled, giving the king a wave. He smirked back at Harry, “Thank you.” And then Draco was walking back down the street, back turned to him.
The teenage girls from before looked shocked, before one of their faces turned red, and she marched over to Harry. “Why is King Draco paying attention to you?!” She demanded with a shrill screech, spit flying from her mouth.
Harry wrinkled his nose, taking a step back. “Jesus, what are you, a bloody pitbull?” He huffed, wiping his face with the back of his hand. The girl’s face somehow went a shade of deeper red, and she started screaming at him. Her friends tried to tug her back, now looking embarrassed and shocked. “Tori, stop!’ One of them gasped, but Tori, in fact, did not stop. She had her finger in Harry’s face, yelling something that he couldn't understand over the music of his brain.
God…what an idiot. Can she get out of my face? Her breath smells really bad. She needs to back up before I die from the toxic fumes she's blowing in my face. Harry thought to himself, giving her a deadpanned look as she continued to yell. He caught one sentence, "He's mine!” and let out a loud cackle. It wasn't intentional, it kind of just slipped out. Tori looked scandalized, “Why are you laughing?!” She screeched, chest heaving. Harry looked around for Ron and his family, who were also watching with wide eyes. “Maybe because you just said the king, who is a fully grown man, is yours. A teenager. I think you need medication for your hallucinations.” Harry said simply, and Tori’s mouth dropped open. She sputtered for a few seconds, before her friends dragged her away muttering about how embarrassing she was being.
Harry turned back to the Weasley’s with a shrug, and quickly joined them before another stray teenager said he was getting in the way of their wattpad story. “God what a nightmare…i never knew teenage girls could be so vicious. What if one of them plots to murder me because I caught the king's attention and they didn't?" He whined, putting his chin on Ron’s shoulder, who looked slightly shocked. “I know you said you were gonna melt the king's heart, but I never thought it would actually happen.” He blurted out, his eyes big and round with shock. Harry just shrugged in response, “I'm just irresistible.” He grinned, and Ron mirrored his expression. “Oh yeah you are,” He put his arm around Harry’s waist, tugging him closer.
“You two met yesterday.” Percy deadpanned, looking at the two draped over each other. “So what? He's my best friend now.” Ron stated seriously, rolling his eyes like Percy was the ridiculous one. In Harry’s opinion, he wasn't. But he wouldn't say that out loud considering he was one half of the problem.
—---------------------------------
Harry dreamt of his old family, their yelling voices, and the sting of a belt on his back as he sobbed against the floor. All of those added together, he didn't get great sleep that night. Kicking his feet over the side of the bed, Harry hopped up to put on his face paint for his meeting with the king later on. He made sure his bells jingled perfectly, and his makeup hid the bags under his eyes.
He skipped downstairs, a big smile on his face. It was like he was ‘The jester’ again, not Harry anymore. He sat down at the table, making conversation with Hermione, who was the only one up this early. She made him tea, which Harry appreciated considering they had met each other just the previous day.
The house came to life when the rest of the kids woke up, loud clattering sounds and Molly’s scolding voice ringing from a couple floors up. Harry snorted, covering his mouth with his hand as Ron descended the stairs looking like sleep had punched him in the face, or maybe Molly had. His hair was sticking out in different directions, and he looked, well, high.
“Morning sleepyhead.” Hermione snickered, and Harry smirked at her. Ron huffed, now aware that his new best friend and girlfriend had teamed up. He sat down at the table, groaning like an old man. “George wouldn't stop making noise from his room, preparing for another product for the shop or somethin’....” Ron yawned, stretching out his long limbs.
“I can imagine,” Harry muttered around his teacup, “I admire his work ethic.” Ron gave him a withering glare, he definitely did not agree with Harry’s opinion. Harry stood up, putting his cup in the sink and thanking Hermione for making him the tea.
Bill and Percy were coming down the stairs as Harry was preparing to leave. They both wished him good luck, which he appreciated coming from the both of them. “Go get him! Remember how fit you are.” Ron said, already scarfing down some cereal he had gotten from the pantry. Harry blew him a kiss, and waved goodbye to Hermione before leaving.
He made his way down the street slowly, admiring the buildings of the kingdom like he did when he first arrived. He was right, King Draco did have good taste. He wondered if the king would let him call him Dray, or his head would get taken off for attempting to do so. The walk to the castle took him twenty minutes, which meant twenty minutes of stares and kids running up to him in interest. He didn't mind at all though, he was used to it by now; so he quickly performed a few tricks for the kids before walking away.
Harry arrived at the gates of the castle with a grin on his face, and a judging look from the guards. “Who are you?” One of them asked, his spear gripped tightly in his hand, eyes narrowed in on Harry like he was a piece of prey. “A jester, pleasure to meet you. The King asked me to come visit him today in his throne room.” He confirmed, gesturing with his hand. The other guard laughed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, likely story. The king hates jester’s, now gets lost before-” The guard was cut off by the sharp click of heels behind him, and the gates swinging open.
A pretty woman with short black hair stood there with an air of confidence, and her nose upturned. “He’s been requested, you daft idiots.” She snarked, grabbing Harry’s wrist and pulling him past the threshold of the castle gates. The guards didn't say anything as they walked away, Harry assumed the woman would beat them with her heels if they did. “I'm Pansy, one of Draco’s best friends. The guards are idiots, I apologize for the problem.” She huffed, her hips swaying with each step. “Harry, I think you’re awesome.” He said with a grin, “Get in line sweetie.” She replied, though she was smiling which Harry took as appreciation.
The castle was absolutely gorgeous, with high marble arches and pretty paintings lining the walls with perfect precision. “This place is gorgeous.” He mumbled, following behind Pansy. “Draco takes the appearance of his castle very seriously.” She replied, pushing open large silver doors.
They swung open, and dead center was Draco on his throne. Next to him was another man, incredibly handsome. “The man next to him is Blaise, our other best friend.” Harry looked at Pansy with a smirk. “If you’re gonna say he's fit, be prepared for the line of women that are waiting outside his door.” She assured, a similar smirk on her own pretty face. He snorted, which he also assumed Pansy took as she was correct in her assumption. Which she was, because that was exactly what he was gonna say.
“Ypur highness, a pleasure to see you again.” Harry said with a grin, bowing with theatrical flair in front of Draco. The man inspected him up and down, as if making sure he was the same man he had met the day before. “You will have the facepaint off for the banquet tonight. I prefer my jester to look handsome as he stands by my side.” Draco drawled, resting his cheek on his fist. He blinked slowly like he was bored, slowly rising from his throne with purpose. His strides were long as he approached Harry, grasping his arm and dragging him out the doors he had just come through with Pansy. “You two get ready for the banquet tonight, I'll get this one ready.” He called out over his shoulder, before they were walking down winding hallways.
Draco dragged him into what Harry assumed was the king's private quarters, because there was a huge bed in the middle, with another crown sitting on the bedside. The king released him, disappearing into his wardrobe for about a minute, before reappearing with an outfit in his hand. It was jester wear, but in the colours of green and silver. “You will wear my colours, and you will do it with pride.” Draco drawled, a small smirk on his face. “Whatever you want, your highness.” Harry replied, giving a slight bow. He looked up at the king through his lashes, who merely looked back down at him in amusement.
Harry went to change in the bathroom, looking at how his ribs were still visible. He looked at himself in the mirror, grabbing at his sides. He quickly shook it off, sliding the new outfit on, and putting the hat on his head. He looked good in the green and silver, it truly suited his beautiful green eyes. He used a wipe to get rid of the face paint he had put on that morning, before pushing his round glasses back onto his face.
Putting a small grin on his face, Harry stepped back out into Draco’s room, now wearing the colours of his kingdom. The King looked pleased, placing an arm around Harry’s waist as he led him back to the throne room. “So your highness, can I call you Dray?” The jester asked, putting a finger to his grinning lips. Draco raised an eyebrow, a cold smile on his face. “Only you, darling.” He replied, to which Harry giggled and ran after the king, who had sped up.
—---------------------------------
The banquet began in the late evening, just as the stars were beginning to paint the sky. Harry entered trailing behind Draco, trying to ignore the jealous glares that were stabbing into the back of his head. He gave a dramatic twirl and wave, waiting for The King’s signal that he could start making his jokes.
Draco tapped a fork to a glass, the clinking sound bouncing off the intricate marble walls and back into the ears of nobles. “This is my new jester, I hope he will entertain you as you like.” He announced, his gaze sweeping over the gathered people.
Some of the female nobles fanned themselves when he looked their way, like he wasn't looking at everyone. Daft tarts. Harry huffed to himself, wanting to punch a woman in the face when she got too close to Draco, batting her eyelids at the man. He ignored her, not even glancing her way with interest which
Harry found to be absolutely hilarious. He did a little hop over to Draco, doing a little dance while moving around him. The man seemed to find it amusing, a small smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. A few nobles chuckled, obviously finding the new jester to be quite entertaining at his job.
Harry lived for the sound of amusement, it meant that he was successful at his job; which was the only thing that mattered to him in this moment. Draco floated over to his throne, slowly lowering himself down onto it. He looked so handsome, in a green and silver suit with a cinched waist. The jewels of his crown glinted under the chandelier lights of the hall.
“Let the banquet begin.”