Prologue - Harry

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Same old routine everyday: Waking up, getting dressed, eat, then classes until it was nighttime. One would think wealthy people, whose father are of a title as high as a "Duke" had it easy. It was the opposite, at least in young (nine years old to be exact) Harry's eyes. There he was, sitting on the chair with only the finest and best professors and tutors surrounding him, each teaching one of the Duke's son their own specialty, so little Harry can one day take over the title his father has so proudly held ever since the day it was given to him. Dressed in the most expensive and uncomfortable clothes, his long curls blocking the view every ten seconds before his slim hand pushed them out of the way. Outside, Harry could hear laughter, the birds flying free through the streets of Woburn, and sometimes he wishes he could soar in the skies alongside them. Even if for only one hour, he wanted to feel the liberty to do whatever he wanted.

Unfortunately, that privilege is only given the moment he closes his eyes and drifts off. For, a lord has to learn etiquette, history, every tedious subject, as he puts it. There's no time to play or have fun. At least, not anymore -- Memories from when his mother was still alive invaded his brain, how she taught him to dance and would sing lullabies until he fell asleep. Two years ago though, she fell ill, and there was nothing the doctors could do to save her. All seven year old Harry could do was watch, as his mother always acted strong with a smile permanently planted on her lips everytime he went to visit her. It was heartbreaking, not once did she cry and not once did she admit she was scared. The last day he had visited her before she passed, she had told him, "My dear, please be strong and don't cry for me. No matter what happens, Harry, I will always love you. And remember, please, never lose sight of what's really important, or you might face the dreadful experience of losing yourself. My little boy, you are destined to do great things, I know so." And with a final strength, she whispered to him once more 'I love you', as did the last breath leave her lips.

To this day, Harry remembers each syllable his mother had lovingly said, a sharp pang of longing washing over him everytime those thoughts came to mind. Thankfully, to divert him from letting the tears fall, a soft noise brought him back to reality. His gaze fell on the window located a few feet on his left -- A white dove was resting outside on the window sill, seemingly scanning the room inside. Harry wondered what that strange bird could be thinking about at the moment. And in a sudden movement, after one of his teachers had announced that it was time for a short break, the child got off the chair and ran out the door, along the almost never-ending hallways of the mansion, passing by a few maids who carried trays, others clothes. He wasn't allowed to go outside, and wouldn't be able to leave with the guards at the door, so he decided to sneak out through the servants' entrance. With his short height and constant hiding everytime a voice or footstep was heard, he slowly but successfully managed to step outside, taking in the fresh scent, and rapidly making his way to some bushes, to conceal his body from being seen by anyone. Now, the only obstacle left was the wall on the sides of the mansion. Determined to see the world with his own eyes, one hand and foot at a time, Harry climbed the tall brick wall which kept trespassers (not always) from sneaking inside. With a gasp for air, he finally reached the top, and instantly, the corners of his lips lifted into a broad smile, the dimples emphasizing his happiness. It was a beautiful sight, full of life, contrary to being a prisoner within his own house. The white dove flew past him, causing a shocked reaction to make him lose his balance and fall on his bottom on the grass below, "Ahhh" His hand rubbed the small of his back, the pain fading away as his excitement took over, "Finally...I"m outside." He knew it wouldn't be long until he was found and brought back, so he had to enjoy the moment whilst it lasted.

Taking one step at a time, he absorbed the details of the scenery moving past him -- The houses, the stores tucked in, the people. Some eyes fell on him, especially the adults and some whispered amongst each other which made Harry wonder if he was doing something wrong. He halted in his tracks as his stomach signaled that it needed some sustenance to keep going, and his cheeks turned a shade of pink when he heard some girls laughing. Spotting a few apples, he was quick to grab one and take a bite, but not ten seconds after and a man was speaking roughly and loudly to him, "How do ya plan on payin' for that, kid? Huh?" He looked up at the tall, chubby man, admiring his full mustache before realizing what he had asked, "Oh..Excuse me, kind sir, I- I wasn't aware that-" "That what? Everythin' has a price?" The angry man interrupted, snorting rudely, before harshly grabbing Harry's arm and the boy winced in pain at the older man's brutal force, "If ya not payin' you have to suffer the consequences of stealin'." His eyes widened, frantically looking around for help though it didn't seem anyone wanted to bother, "No please, I-I can get some uh-" He was running out of ideas, the man was dragging him to God knows where, until finally, Harry kicked him in the groin and the man grunted in pain, the grip on Harry's arm suddenly losing strength which was his cue to run away. All he could hear was a faint, "Hey, come back here!!", but didn't dare to look back and ran as fast as his short legs could allow him to.

The air was crisp and from a fair distance some clouds were slowly making their way over the city. The wind hitting his face began losing its strength as Harry slowed his speed, now a good enough distance from that hair-rising man. Never in a million years had the boy expected the outside world to be...Scary. He always thought everybody was friendly and forgivable, at least towards children. But apparently (obviously), he was wrong. Now tired and hungry, Harry sat on the cold floor, leaning his back against the wide water fountain and closing his eyes, he allowed the gentle breeze to soothe him. For about a minute, he remained in the same position, listening carefully to the wind -- For a moment there, he thought the wind spoke. For in the distance, a soft melody blended with the sound of the wind perfectly, as if it belonged with the free environment. Harry opened his eyes and stood up, now eager to know where this angelical voice was coming from. A voice he was sure even God was jealous of. He needed not to walk far, in the distance he could view quite a large automobile with a few performers in the back chatting quietly. Pushing past the crowd who seemed to be watching a performance very intensely, he halted at the sight of a young girl -- of long brown hair and big brown hues, wearing a pale pink dress -- singing. He found the source of the beautiful voice he had heard earlier. She couldn't be older than him, maybe his age or even younger, but her voice was like no other. Such talent and such beauty in such a little girl. The petite lady sang with joy, reminding him of how his mother used to when singing him lullabies. The two shared the same free spirit, or so it felt like it, though there was something that differed the two females.

He wanted to continue listening to her, and maybe get to know her afterwards, but already was the chubby man dragging him back, the fear washing over him once more. He was saved though. A familiar voice was heard, of his personal butler, Vincent, though Harry called him Vince, "Lord Harry, thank goodness you're all right. Everyone has been so worried about you, my lord." Vince eyed the other man holding his arm, "What seems to be the problem here?" The man, with a shocked expression on his face, slowly began realizing who the child was, quickly letting go, "This boy stole from me. You oughta teach him some manners." Vince took a small bow, apologizing and giving the man the needed money before he took Harry's hand bringing the boy back to the mansion. He didn't ask questions, which relieved the nine year old as he wouldn't know how to explain why he did what he did. And now, as he took a last glance at the girl, who had finished her song and was receiving the deserved applause, he started wondering what her name was, why she was singing on the streets -- all these questions popping into his mind and one wish followed by each. Which was, that he can see her again someday, so he's allowed the privilege of once more, listening to her beautiful voice.

~~~

A/N: First prologue, wooo! Please give me some feedback, it'd be much appreciated, thanks!

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