The Armor (Prince Harry fanfic #1)

Chapter Eight

Lucy's past, whatever it was, Harry wanted to know, and yet it wasn't his business. Within the week that he now knew her, there wasn't much she gave up about herself, and Harry matched her for information. When they talked, it wasn't much about strict personal lives but the current lives. Maybe, Harry decided, Lucy didn't care about the outside world, who he was, where he belonged.

Within the week, Lucy had returned to normal by the standards of society out there, in the world that was their home, but Harry saw how Lucy acted and worked, the magical ability to pretend; Harry did it too. When they were alone, in their slum in the darkness of the night and the quietness of patience, Lucy kept her distance but there were details about her that came out. She was human; she breathed. Harry liked her like this, not just another robot of society.

In the schoolhouse, Lucy's handwriting curled on the board, Humanity. "Can anyone tell me what this word means?" she asked the class, whom sat at attention, ready to impress her.

Harry glanced down at the booklet in his hands, this wasn't apart of the assigned topics today, but yet, Lucy, who seemed to love rules, went off the path, choosing her own way to walk.

The students had some answers but most of them kept quiet, and like Harry, they wondered where Lucy was going with this.

"Humanity," she began, "is a wonder and horrible thing. Humanity is what gives us compassion and love, as well as danger and hate. This part of humanity that builds us up and can tear us down. We can feel sympathy and joy; we can feel the sadness and anger. Sometimes, these emotions take over, and we can't stop it. It's not bad; we're just human." Her feet dragged along the ground, walking around the schoolhouse again. "I would like to say that I've seen some bad things about humanity, the moments we don't talk about it. I would also like to say that I've seen some good things about humanity, what we celebrate." She made her way back over to the blackboard. "Tell me the best moments of your lives."

The students didn't even raise their hands but called out the best moments, which she wrote upon the board. When the students quieted down, she called for more, and some mumbles came but none of them were strong ideas. Lucy faced her students.

"Come on," she said. "You hit the big ones, yes, but where are the small moments? Where are the moments that you just smile about? Where are the memories that make you laugh at them even years afterward? Where are those?" The students still waited. Lucy trained her eyes upon Harry, "Tell us about a moment, Harry, anyone that you like."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Any moment?"

"Yes." She had turned her back to him and waited, white chalk pressed against the blackboard.

Harry, under the gaze of the students, didn't have anything to give.

"Mine," she said, "and then Harry's."

Her curly handwriting sprung across the board, aiming for new heights as her words came into focus. They said, November 11th. It was only a date, where upon students had said birthdays and marriages, family functions, nothing personal; there was Lucy's personal story, November eleventh, whatever the day was, whatever it meant. This was her happiness.

"Okay, Harry, what is your special moment?" Her hand rested on the blackboard, waiting for Harry's moment.

"Ma'am," a student called, "your moment is a day?"

"It was a good day," she said.

"Why?" the student continued.

Harry thought she might stop talking, give a simple answer, which he saw she considered, but Lucy wouldn't have denied this chance for a life lesson. In her eyes, Harry for less than second, saw panic, she wasn't supposed to say, her words didn't fit together right, and then she was back on the road of acting.

"Well, it was a good day, eleven-eleven, a Monday. I like Mondays, the day you go to school, refreshed and happy, ready to start anew. Mondays are good because you don't have to deal with what happened last week. I like Mondays, but I don't like Tuesdays. You should love Mondays but Tuesdays are terrible." She paused, but everyone wanted more. "This date, I like this date, because happiness. This day makes me happy, every year that it comes around, easy to remember."

Harry listened intently, but her words were chipped, quick with her tongue in a flicking motion, flowing through quickly. She held no emotion in her voice, only a forced happy tone; he knew this tone well.

"But why, ma'am?"

"I was with my family. I love my family, and it was a normal day. I like normal days."

"You like it because it was a normal day?"

"Yes, but I do like spectacular days. However, you can't have spectacular days without the boring days, the days you sit around and do nothing, so when the spectacular days come, you feel like you're really alive." Her eyes rested on the students before she decided her next move. "Stand," she commanded, voice hard and happy, like a comforting command from the sky. They all moved. "Good, now change seats with people from across the room." They did.

Harry came and stood next to her. "I like where this is going," he whispered, "but where are you going?"

"Come along with me, Harry." She moved and he moved, positioning themselves in the middle of the room. The students had moved seats, across the room from where he used to be, no longer next to their old neighbors. "Have a conversation. Go."

Harry followed Lucy as she talked to the student on her left, having a in depth conversation about his favorite food, a food that Lucy had never tried, and he described it to her. She asked why he liked it and he told her.

Around the room, all the students did this, just having a in depth conversation about whatever they wanted, no one arguing or having a problem. They tended to disagree on something but they worked together. Lucy sent Harry a look, understanding; Lucy wasn't dumb. Children could work together; adults couldn't.

Lucy called to the room, telling everyone to switch around, which they all followed and a new conversation began. They talked. Lucy left Harry in charge talking to some students while Lucy walked around, listening to the students' conversations. She made the students change conversations and people five more times, and then they sat down in random desks.

"Can anyone tell me why this relates to humanity?" she asked.

None of the students could answer.

"Harry?" she persisted.

Harry swallowed, unable to fully understand where she was going with this. He stood straight on his two feet and hesitated. "Is it because when we work together, humanity works together?" She nodded for him to continue. "If we can talk without being angry at each other, why can't others? Why can't they get along?"

"Good, also, humanity lives within all of us, breathing and growing, thriving. It's the little things we do for the larger picture, to change the world even within a small community. We shared parts of ourselves with our peers, the small moments that make us happy. We shared our humanity, the little things that make us human." She paused in front of the class. "We all are human. We all are equals."