got a classic, real deep, van gogh

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/49264747.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Category: M/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle | Voldemort,
Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter, Susan Bones & Harry Potter, Harry
Potter/Voldemort
Character: Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Luna Lovegood, Tom Riddle | Voldemort,
Susan Bones, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott
Additional Tags: Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Implied
Relationships, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child
Abuse, BAMF Harry Potter, Smart Harry Potter, Magically Powerful
Harry Potter, Harry Potter is a Little Shit, Harry Potter is Not a Potter,
James Potter is Not Harry Potter's Parent, Severus Snape Has a Heart,
Protective Severus Snape, Harry Potter Being Harry Potter, Possessive
Voldemort (Harry Potter), POV Severus Snape, Pureblood Politics
(Harry Potter), Fluff and Angst, Family Fluff, Crack Treated Seriously,
Fluff and Crack, Cute Harry Potter, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Series: Part 2 of barbiecore
Stats: Published: 2023-08-11 Completed: 2023-09-22 Words: 8,863 Chapters:
3/3

got a classic, real deep, van gogh

by Diamondikarus

Summary

Harry Prince is Severus's cousin. Also, a fifth year Ravenclaw.

Or Harry Potter is a Prince in this ocassion and Severus has a headache over it. (With
the stellar appearance of Voldemort who apparently is sending letters to the Ravenclaw
student).

Notes

See the end of the work for notes

 Chapter 1

Draco thought that Harry Prince was the scariest Ravenclaw he knew. Usually the Ravenclaw
were quiet and helpful, aside from Luna Lovegood who had eerie eyes and she spent the days
without her shoes and dancing in the common room from what rumours had said.

The teenager was a fifth year Ravenclaw. Usually Hogwarts didn’t have new students, it was
probably a surprise for everyone, including Dumbledore who looked agitated after hearing the
surname. They said he was the Dark Lord’s son and it had to be true because the Prince was a non-
existent pureblood line.

Or worse. They said he was Severus Snape's son because the man was constantly with him,
assisting him with the classes. Harry Prince had long black hair which he used in two pigtails and
piercing green eyes. Sometimes, he used glasses, but sometimes, no one saw him using them.
However, he could say that the new student was so different from Professor Snape. He wasn’t
always smiling, but he liked to use a lot of colours.

He wore plenty shades of blue proudly and he punched a kid once for making fun of his hairstyle.
Harry found himself sitting in Snape’s quarters which was the most dreary part of Hogwarts. The
air felt dense and depressing, especially for the lack of colour. There were only the book titles that
caught his attention.

“You have to stop punching everyone you don’t like.” Severus said scornfully and sipped the tea
carefully, while watching the student.

“Mother always asks: why isn't Severus visiting us? She called you Sevvie. Imagine my discomfort
when she calls you that horrible nickname.” Harry rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. He poured
his own tea (because his cousin didn’t do it).

“They disinherited my mother. I am not welcome in that house.” Severus explained. He had seen
Harry and had heard about him. His mother talked about wanting to meet his nephew, but his sister
didn’t let him. He only saw some photos of him, as a pink-faced horrid toddler. It turned out in him
being the only privileged Heir.

Harry only nodded his head in agreement and touched one of his pockets to put the gift he had
bought for him. A little book with a yellow cover and a french woman in it. “Red Carnations”
could be read on it. A birthday gift for the man. Snape touched the cover delicately and carefully,
without wanting to stain it with the black tea he was sipping.
“It’s Louise Michel. An author I really like.” Harry expressed with emotion and a fleeting smile.
“For your birthday, because you didn’t invite me.” He said teasingly, and Snape sneered at him.

“Why should I invite an awful boy of fifteen years old? I didn’t have balloons and a cake. In fact,
you know that I don’t usually celebrate my birthdays.” He said, watching the pages of the book
which were all sewed manually. It was an endearing bookbinding.

“You are so boring! Because a little bit of colour would disintegrate you. I invite you to my
birthday then. It will be here, in Hogwarts.” Another card was placed on the desk and Severus
flickered his eyes to it after glaring at him. The piece of parchment was blue and had an eagle with
glitter eyeshadow like the poor animal had eyeliner in his eyes. “Luna and I did it. Creative,
right?”

No. It was horrible. But he opted to not say anything. He never had contact with his mother’s
family, but she had told him about them between the fights and beatings from his father.

“You can’t use dresses here, Mr Prince.” Severus said, exasperated after Harry left his quarters for
the night. The boy cheekily winked at him.

“But it’s saturday! I am going to do a fashion show with my friend. What do you think about my
style?” Harry got up from the seat and made a twirl with the dress which flowed elegantly up to his
knees. It had a floral pattern and it seemed that the two students glued some stickers in the fabric.

He didn’t add anything else, instead he bid goodbye to the student and was left in solitude with the
book his cousin had gifted him. Louise Michel was one of the first persons to hoist the black flaw
(which later was one of the anarchy symbols). He snickered to himself because his cousin's tastes
in literature were really diverse.

During the middle of the night when everyone was sleeping (or trying to) Miss Lovegood and Mr
Prince were giving a fashion show for their friends. Susan Bones was invited and even Justin
Fletchey. No one knew why those particular students were friends, but it was true that some
curious boys/girls from Slytherin and Gryffindor wanted to be part of their circle too.

Also, Harry knew one of Snape secrets. He was a Death Eater, because he remembered his mother
saying that once between shushed sounds and a discussion full of violence with some relatives, and
unfortunately he had received a letter from said terror of a man called Lord Voldemort. He, as a
fool, had responded and now he had more letters of the man itself.

“Professor Snape, can you help me later, please?” He raised one of his hands in potions and his
cousin scrunched up his nose in disgust and continued on with the class. He didn’t need help with
the homework. Obviously, he was really smart.

However, he was seen as “favoured” by the other students. Dumbledore knew that they were
relatives, but not everyone, so they started saying that he was in a relationship with Professor
Snape which was certainly disgusting and unflavoured.

“What are you doing again in my quarters, Harry?” Snape questioned with all the irritation he
could muster after he opened the door to let him pass through.

“I am just worried!” Harry was biting his chipped nails. "He sent me all these letters!” All the
letters were splayed upon the desk like they were in a clothes shop. Snape grabbed one of them and
read it quickly.

“Who is this person you are so worried about?” He ended up asking and Harry stomped his shoes
on the floor.

He closed his eyes, inhaled and then mouthed “Lord Voldemort”, but his cousin furrowed his
brows. So, he ended up almost shouting the name and in that moment, Snape paled. “Why did you
answer if you already knew?” Was his question with his piercing dark eyes like a shark and Harry
felt shivers running down his spine, because his cousin really knew how to be frightening.

“I was trying to be polite and it was interesting.” He shrugged his shoulders and he could feel the
instant Snape’s patience cracked.

His body was sent backwards and out the room. The door was closed in his face and only his
whines and cries could be heard. “Please, tell me what I should do! Should I send him a photo of
mine? Also, he has elegant handwriting, how does he do that? Should I send him a warning?”

The Prince were born to be doomed over a mad man. He didn’t have a bond of trust and good
relationship with his cousin, but Harry constantly showed him that he was interested in knowing
his tastes, his classes, his personality. He even gifted him something for his birthday.
All that turmoil he sensed disappeared for a few minutes and he decided to invite the student again
(aware of the bloody rumours). And fortunately, Harry was still waiting for him like a puppy,
eating something that the elves probably gave him. They were fond of the new student. (He was a
charmer and a flirt.)

“What do you know about him? These walls have ears, but Dumbledore knows everything, so you
should tell me.” Harry glanced at his surroundings and clutched the sweater he had put on top of
the pyjamas.

He wasn’t that small—... Snape thought, but if he could see his cousin in a different light. He was a
perceptive and a clever young man. It was obvious that the Dark Lord was interested in people like
that.

Harry was also a half-blood like him, (it didn’t matter what his aunt wanted to say or believe. She
never married the muggle and then told everyone that the man took advantage of her. It was
probably true, but for some reason he didn’t know, she was never disinherited for that.)

They talked all night and Harry ended up sleeping in his bed, while he made his couch comfortable
for him. He wished he had met his cousin when he was younger. He could have taught him about
magic and bought the first copies of Potions book for kids. But now, the dazzling sleeping teenager
had dazzled someone older and the threat of the Magical World.

Oh, to have a heart was really a heavy burden sometimes. Even when he felt his heart freezed
when Lily died fighting against the man he was devoted to during that time.

It was Sunday when Harry went to his quarters again with more response to his letters. “I thought
he wasn’t sending you any more parchments.”

Harry looked bashfully away. “Yes, but he is really charming.”

Snape inspected him with an irk of an eyebrow. “Harry, he is a man older than… or I don’t know.
He could be Dumbledore’s age. He is not even human anymore.”

“But I could fix him.” His cousin smugly said and his laugh was bubbly. Snape found himself
laughing with him too, even if they were at odds, even if they were going to be killed soon.
“You can’t fix a man like that! You can’t change him either.” Snape added in a soft tone and
closed his eyes, exhausted. It was true that The Dark Lord letters were kind of flirty with his cousin
of fifteen years old.

He was going to be called to a meeting of Death Eaters soon and there maybe he could find out
more what he desired from Harry. His abilities? Sure, he was a phenomenal wizard, but there were
phenomenal wizards everywhere. His beauty? Sure, he was pretty, but there were— Or maybe
there weren’t.

He saw his cousin working diligently on his homework during the different classes. No one had a
bad remark about him. He had lost a lot of points (sadly) because he protected the poor little
mudbloods and because he was still hitting students who had retorts about his appearance.

Harry was too feminine, they said. But at the same time, this same people were expecting his
classes at the library when he had free time. Snape thought that he couldn’t be a Death Eater. Such
a gentle soul. He was sure that Lord Voldemort craved him for something else.
 you're so fine, you blow my mind

The common room was awfully decorated, or at least, Snape despised all those blue shades
hanging off the corners in the Ravenclaw space. It was true to their House colours, but it didn’t
matter how many years had passed, maybe his Slytherin pride was something that was still carved
in his chest. The darker tones, as black, suited him more. Harry was endearing, in his tip-toes
perching iridescent curtains, like his birthday was the most important matter. He didn’t say
anything as he was the first guest in their supposed dinner party.

Sometimes, the blue glitter that covered the table (for some reason) winked at him and flew when
Harry did something else, like trotting fast to the other corners. Snape was just amused, snickering
to himself with all the running in the common room the boy did. “It seems you are enjoying
yourself.” The teenager grumbled out and threatened him with his fist. His knuckles were covered
in bandages, because he had hit someone else alleging that the student didn’t bother him, but his
friends. Ugh, he was really annoying. Behaving like a literal Prince.

At least, he could give him one point for dutifully covering every little space with the happy
birthday sign which was really big and it danced to some music on the radio Harry put it on. The
letters moving were kind of creepy, but it increased the room’s spirit. He was going to leave when
some of his friends started coming. A room full of teenagers he didn’t even like wasn’t his prospect
for a Saturday night.

“If we were classmates in the 50’s, would you be my friend? Be honest!” Harry asked thoughtfully
with a hand on his chin and the eyeliner caught his attention. The ink had intricate details and
Snape thought that it was probably Luna’s handwork.

“In the 70’s, you say.” Snape added acidly. The teenager shrugged his shoulders. His cousin didn’t
have a sense of decorum or sense of time in any case. Then, he briefly remembered his time at
Hogwarts. Looking at Harry’s style, personality. Yes, he could be his friend, but all his friends
turned out to be Death Eaters and maniacs, so it wasn’t probably a good thing to say.

Being honest, Young Severus Snape would probably resent him for being a Prince and flaunting
their surname. But if he was a regular wizard. They could have a chance. “I don’t think I will be
interested enough in you to be your friend.” He replied gravelly. In fact, it was probably going to be
the other way around. Harry wasn’t going to be interested in him .

His cousin turned around with a boa hanging off his neck and gasped dramatically. “You are not
being serious! We would be the best of friends. Maybe you could have been in love with me.” He
ended up saying and Snape snorted, sipping the blueberry juice Harry convinced Pomona to do for
his birthday.
A stash of letters was piled in the couch and Harry was organising them by date. A Prince
characteristic. His mother and him were the same. It was crude what those letters told. He didn’t
know why his Lord had a certain hyperfixation in his cousin. How did he find him? How did he
know about a new Ravenclaw student? “He sent me one for my birthday too.” Harry said, fixing
his blueish pattern dress carefully. It had a cartoonish face on the fabric. A woman was playing
with her gum. It was pop art. He had seen it once in a magazine.

“He also told me that his birthday is December 31st.” The boy explained gently, and for the first
time in the night, he drank the beverage which was constantly moving in his hands. Snape didn’t
know that. He-who–shall-not-be-named was more like a deity for him. He didn’t see the man as a
human (he didn’t look like one) and frankly he never stopped to think about his affairs, his needs,
his desires. It was just the monster under the bed. The monster who didn’t have a real name. An
identity.

However, Harry was truly human in all ways that mattered. The student walked to him to show him
the bag which hid a gift. An expensive set of ink and quill with a poetry book. “His age is really
showing.” Snape figured out saying that wasn’t abnormal, and his cousin chuckled.

“You don’t have to worry, Sevvie! Your sole presence is my gift.” Harry grabbed his heart in a
simulation of a lover declaration and Snape rolled his eyes and made him pour the juice on his
dress which was a petty revenge, but he was petty in all ways that mattered too.

He bought him a dress in a little neat bag which screamed expensive and luxurious. Harry loved it.
He even tried on the outfit and combined it with other pieces of jewellery. “There is a nagging
question I have, Harry. Why does he know about you?” It was a cruel reminder that his cousin
wasn’t going to be free, like him. He was bound with an invisible thread to someone who didn’t
care about him, who didn’t even know him personally.

Harry turned silent and sipped all the juice. Snape was probably preparing himself to hear a bomb .
His cousin was an expert in expressions. He didn’t even use a mask. Always himself, always
dreamy. “It’s because of my mother. When I was younger, she told me that I was going to be the
Heir of Prince and have someone to marry with me. Yes! I know how it sounds.” He even rolled
his eyes, and Snape sighed. The boy sat down on the couch and with a swish of his fingers the bags
disappeared and the letters too.

“If not, I wasn’t going to inherit the fortune. I don’t care about that! And suddenly, she told me that
there was someone interested in me.” He gestured to himself. If Harry wasn’t telling the most
horrid notice to his ears, he would say that the student was funny with all the theatrical stuff he
was using as gestures. “It seems that the person interested in me was him. And Sevvie! I know
how it sounds. Awful. But I am not against marrying him if that means I will have the Prince’s
fortune. I will be the Lord! Also, he is really cute.”

Cute. That wasn’t even a word in his vocabulary he would use to describe Lord Voldemort and his
multiple assassinations weighing over his shoulders.

“You don’t need the fortune, Harry. You can have everything outside of the family.” Snape never
thought about a fortune. That was a pureblood problem that didn't even fit in his head. He
remembered Barty saying something similar, also James Potter. They were at the end of the same
spectrum, but it was probably because he was outside of the family at the start of his life. He
understood the pressure and societal expectations for them, but never being part of it.

His cousin watched him in detail and smiled brightly. The boy didn’t have any shame whatsoever.
“That’s obvious! I am one of the smartest people in Hogwarts. But I would like to know him. I told
you I can fix him! Maybe not fix him like a tool. However…” He paused briefly to narrow his
eyes. “He may need a romance. And he is rich. At least, that was what she told me.”

Harry was really simple-minded. But he couldn’t help laughing alongside the teenager. The boy
brought out the best in him. “I am joking, Severus! But there’s something that I don’t know yet.”
He sounded serious at that moment and he nodded too. There was something amiss to them.

When his friends started arriving, Snape figured out it was his cue to leave, and Harry took his
wrist delicately, trying to say that he didn’t have to go if he didn’t want to, but when the loud
voices of some Ravenclaw students and Hufflepuff were chirring in his ears, Harry winced and let
him go. However, he found an endearing surprise out the common room’s door. Draco Malfoy and
Theodore Nott were waiting for Harry to appear. They weren’t probably expecting him to be there.

Deducting points. He could do that, but Draco’s expression was cheerful, while Theodore was the
same as always, dreary, but irking an eyebrow like he was challenging him. He just passed them as
if he hadn’t seen them, and his students did the same. They were concealing their shock expression
to themselves which made him just proud of them. Slytherin was the worst out of the four houses
to everyone, but at the same time, they had a sense of camaraderie that he didn’t feel it anywhere.

Months ago
Voldemort could describe himself as a strategist and logical person. However, when he found a
letter from the Prince household. A pureblood line that wasn’t even important anymore. It was
only collecting dust. But, they have a Heir now and it was announced in the newspapers.

Harry Prince, surely a half-blood, by judging him by his name. A little sweet thing of fifteen years
old with a jovial face and the pride of Ravenclaw as the cherry on top. Bright green eyes, appeared
in the middle of the family frame with the jewellery of the name on his head. A crown for the
honoured one.

Harry Prince didn’t have anything Voldemort could want. He knew he was Severus’s cousin, but
they didn’t have a relationship, his follower didn’t utter a word about the little student. Prince
offspring were obedient and proficient in magic.

But Harry? Taxits, one of his followers, wasn't using the Death Eater flag as his personality like
some of them liked to brag about it, but the man was diligently working alongside pureblood
people and their ideals. He didn’t look like anyone else, because Taxits could see the soul or so
they said. Voldemort wasn’t one of superstitions, but he would be lying if his entire life wasn’t led
by superstition.

The man inspected Harry in the newspaper and his eerie eyes were softened by the photograph of
the student. He was enjoying the picture, it seemed. Suddenly, he said, “His soul is not complete.”
Voldemort peeked up his head from the papers he was working on. When he was Harry’s age, he
made his first horcrux, so it could also be that.

But his follower didn’t move from the place, he directed his whole attention to him in that moment
and even h e felt a certain agitated state. “You have his other figment and he has yours.” Taxits
explained like he was just explaining the weather. “I think your destiny is sealed with him.” The
Harry on the paper was winking at the camera and the crown decorated his head like they were
thousand roses.

He didn’t even dare to think about the state of his soul. “How could that be? I don’t even know
him. And I don’t believe in soulmates.” It was preposterous to think about it, especially with a boy
younger than him.

Taxits was clacking hysterically and his white hair cascaded up to his shoulders. His white
eyelashes were fluttering and the scar of his cheek was dangerously pink. “When I see people, I see
their soul and if they’re compatible with their partners. I could see that both of you are compatible,
because you are missing something. A crown for the Prince.”
Voldemort listened to him carefully. In all the years he had known the man, he never missed a
mark, a weak point. The Prince’s household letter was still on his desk, and the elegant handwriting
from Harry’s mother shone against the lamp he was using. Taxits dreamily regarded him like they
were really far away and smirked. “You should answer that letter.”

So, he did and he found himself in the predicament of meeting Snape’s aunt and filled with
formalities he didn’t have anymore, because he didn’t see the point of them. Tom Riddle was one to
flaunt about everything, but him? He surpassed that silly little orphan a long time ago. It was a
wound which would never close.

The woman was pureblood privilege on her own, but with the knowledge that her line was barely
existing. Harry Prince was the only pulsing point without recognising the other Prince Heir. She
couldn’t ask for more. But he was magnanimous. You shall offer to Lord Voldemort and Lord
Voldemort would concede his promise.

“He is a lovely man—... He likes to read…” Those were the words that caught his attention, but
fortunately all the dilemma that the madam had was forgotten when she left. He didn’t have to
listen to obnoxious liars and people from perishing lines.

That was why he ended up writing letters to the student himself. Harry was lovely, as her mother
said, and had all the points he was interested in covered. The woman promised him her fortune and
the house for his meetings. Another secure place, another safehouse, he was always needing that.
According to Taxits, he was fated to have Harry with him and the possessive streak he had
abandoned in the orphanage years ago turned on like it never left, because he had never left it
aside.

Harry’s mother was selling him short with all that description about him, merely thinking of him as
a tool, as a target. He wasn’t so different. In fact, he was curious about their supposed fate.
However, if he found himself waiting anxiously for another letter it was just Nagini’s dream. Harry
was a child. But he would turn sixteen soon, so he could make good use of the arranged marriage.

Taxits spotted Harry’s photographs scattered over Voldemort’s desk and some scribbled
parchments. Right! It was the teenager’s birthday. He wished to study the student’s soul too and it
would be easier if they got married.

Voldemort didn’t even know how to properly court someone. He had seen plenty of people doing
it, and if he wanted to give something he usually ordered it. The glamour was excessively
annoying and he wasn’t used to his real old face anymore. Tom Riddle winked him back from the
mirror and he crushed it with his magic. There was an extensive category of presents, some of the
ladies tried to help him with his selection. Harry spent hours writing his tastes on the letters.
Dresses, colours, books.

However, he wished for sophistication and sadly the best idea occurred to him later when he saw a
couple having dinner. Harry would be glad if he invited him too. His gaze never wavered, but the
mannequins showing the new trend in lingerie caught his minimal attention for a few seconds. He
couldn’t imagine the student in that—... he couldn’t do that!

Harry didn’t have a unfounded point in his knowledge and Voldemort could feel they were in the
same tune. Always intriguing, always asking, always reading. It was like little caresses to his ego
everytime the teenager flattered him. After spending his money on the gift, he sat down in a café
like he was normal, another wizard of the bunch and it was really endearing how the waitress
intented something more with him. His heart had an owner and he liked the reminder with every
fibre of his being. It was suffocating and exhilarating, it was burning him from the inside.
 he got loyalty, he says "i love you", i love him more
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

uh-oh, she's my best friend in the whole world

on the mood board, she's the inspo

and she's dressed in really cute clothes

kawaii like we're in tokyo

devon lee smile, teeth a white row

got a classic real deep van-gogh

she got loyalty, she says "i love you girl"

i love her more.

“Are you really going to have a date with him?” Severus questioned cautiously while bottling up
some potions. Harry was always mesmerised seeing it, his hands and fingers were so confident in
the job, the agility which he worked with seemed like a surgeon would have with medical tools.
Also, talking about “dates” was a bit embarrassing. He didn’t know any of his cousin’s conquests.
Did he like anyone at all?

“Yes! I wanted to know him. I don’t have a choice.” Harry uttered and framed his face with both of
his hands, leaning on the desk and the lilac potion kept swirling inside the cauldron. It didn’t have
a foul smell. “If I end up being the Lord of The House, I will split the money with you, Sevvie.”
He said, convinced and Severus snorted.

Why did the atrocious child think he would like to have that dirty money? The money his mother
would have inherited if she wasn’t othered by them, by their supposed family.

At that moment, Harry wasn’t probably in his aunt’s plans. “I think my mother sold me to him.”
Pensively, he said that and Severus turned around for a few seconds to stare at Harry. He was
serious and his expression didn’t say anything else.

“What do you mean by that?” He pressed again, with bitter insults in his tongue and resentment
swirling like the potion in his body. There was an oddity. Harry was an oddity, he was used to his
cousin's presence, but at the same time, he had a horrible livid rage over him as he was guilty of
something. He was enraged against his family. Harry was just paying for the broken dishes (and
maybe him too).

“Do you think that he would have noticed me if my mother didn’t sell something else?” Harry
raised an eyebrow, cynically and Severus was mad again, was mad at his aunt for raising someone
who believed he wasn’t worth it. The teenager's bubbling laugh caught him by surprise. “Don’t
look at me like that!” Severus had a frown on his face.

“I do think you are an acceptable young man.” Harry would understand his specific words, because
he was smart and perceptive. Every Ravenclaw quality fit him and also every Slytherin one.

“I know that you can’t escape him.” Harry paused, and bit his lip. “But I am going to free you. And
then, we can go to visit other countries! What do you think?”

Severus thought that it was a ridiculous notion of a very optimistic child. “I am not another tool to
be fixed, Harry.” He finished the potion and the bottles lined up all over the desk like a catalogue.

“I don’t care! I told you I will fix him, and you too. I will fix The Prince house entirely.” Harry
sighed, irritated and sat down on the desk, grabbing the coffee cup Severus did for himself.

“And who is going to fix you? You have to concentrate on you.” He ended up claiming, and took
the cup before Harry drank it all. The little menace who was sixteen years old and had too many
big ideals.

“I am not traumatised, Severus. I don’t need fixing, I am just perfect the way I am. I know what
kind of little liars The Prince are. My mother is materialistic, she always was like that, but at the
same time, she always took care of me, that was why I could deduce that she made a kind of deal
with Voldemort.” He replied firmly and brushed his hair. It was glossy and thick, he didn’t like it
long, because it was messy. He wasn’t that organised with his life, less than less with his hair.

Severus didn’t have words for that. Maybe Harry was right. Maybe they could live together in their
house, in their designated house. The place where he was kicked out without knowing and the
place where Harry grew up as a literal prince.

There was a question who was chewing him from inside, but he opted to not say anything. Harry
kissed his cheek in an unhurried manner, and Snape flinched.
No one wanted to kiss his cheek especially if they wished to preserve their lives. “You are too kind,
Sevvie. I am really grateful.” The teenager finished saying, and blew him a kiss after disappearing
to the Ravenclaw common room.

Flitwick went to his private headquarters at night needing an explanation because a letter from The
Prince Household arrived requesting a licence for one day of Harry. The man snatched his bottle of
whisky and drank a cup of it. He couldn’t believe that “arranged marriages” were still the norm
between the pureblood circle, and Snape just welcomed him to the reality.

It wasn’t the norm, in fact, many pureblood students could choose their own partner. However, if
their family was still conservative and traditional, they decided in the student’s place which was
antiquated, but Dumbledore always looked at him with a warning expression every time he wished
to have a chat with some of the parents. They weren’t going to change. He knew it.

On the other hand, Harry was preparing with his friend’s help to choose the attire for the date . It
was going to be the first time he would meet Voldemort, and have a simple dinner with him. Susan
was horrified at that because of his age, but Luna shook her head and told her that it was “normal”
and it didn’t mean he was going to marry with him.

“I hope he is nice with you, if not, I am going to murder him.” Susan claimed, crossing her arms,
and he snickered, patting her head like she was a little dog.

“He will be nice. The nargles told me.” Luna's decisive tone didn’t let the other girl keep
discussing it. Harry cherished his friends. They were really supportive and endearing.

“I can’t believe he is going to have a date with a man. ” Theodore was usually silent, and he didn’t
like the reunions, but he was always open to having sleepovers on Saturdays or studying together.
Harry appreciated it.

“Headline: Nott is a homophobe. We are not anymore in the 50’!” Susan yelled at him and threw
him Harry’s pillow. The boy grabbed it and used it like a leaning shoulder.

Harry didn’t care about it. He thought that Theodore didn’t mean it in a bad way. He was in his
world, sometimes more nerd than him. He chose a simple formal outfit. White t-shirt, and Susan
took a blue pastel blazer for him, as the Ravenclaw pride. The pants were all black and oversized,
to, according to Luna, give a “fancy aesthetic”. Theodore also gave him a pin in green which was a
portkey if he had any problems at the date. It was a prideful little snake with red eyes.

The fateful day arrived and The Prince letter had a portkey which connected to the place where his
date was waiting for him. It was going to be really awkward, he just knew it, he could feel it in his
bones.

The Gaunt House was as haunted as ever, that was what Harry felt at first. It was decorated in
richer tones of silver and black ones. He had seen it only in the newspapers and the tales his mother
had told him.

His heart was beating fast when one of the elves grabbed his coat and he stumbled, he was a little
clumsy, a little dumbfounded. It was real . He was going to marry.

Voldemort was expecting him in an all black chair and fortunately, their pants combined with the
colours of the house. He was using a glamour. A handsome glamour. Was that his real face after
all?

“You don’t need to use a glamour with me.” Were his first words, and he smiled brightly. The man
was puzzled for a few seconds, and then with a flick of his fingers, the glamour disappeared,
leaving his real face. Snake-ish features like the pin he was using, reddish eyes and an expression
so intense Harry could feel him analysing him.

“Usually the people would start with a “Good night” or “Good afternoon.” Voldemort said, his
deep tone was tempting. He got closer to the man, the table was huge, but with his magic, he made
it small, fitting for two people and to have a sense of intimacy. There were candles lit up and they
created a certain atmosphere.

His date watched him carefully, examining his magic, prodding his mind, but Harry rejected his
advances in the perfect time. Voldemort seemed proud, accomplished. “I am not like the other
people, Lord Voldemort.” The silence followed his words, but Harry was amused at the scene. He
sat down on the chair, in front of the man, with the candles in the centre of the table, and
Voldemort took from one of the pockets of his shirt a little box with a beautiful ribbon.

He opened it quickly, without the thrill hanging in the air, and gasped when he saw a pendant. A
green one with a blue pearl in the middle of it. Harry believed that their dinner was just a mere
courtesy, that it was just a business .
However, he found a man completely thoughtful of his needs, of his tastes, with different pasta
plates and delicacies which hung in the air, he had an amazing control of his abilities and Harry
was mesmerised after seeing the little tricks.

“This is beautiful. Thanks you very much.” Harry stated politely and the delicious smell made him
widen his eyes. It was such a classic-romantic move. He appreciated every little gesture. “What did
my mother sell to you, apart from me, Lord Voldemort?”

At that question, Voldemort smirked and his throat rumbled, amused. “Straight to business, I see.”
He paused for a few seconds, grabbed his fork and took the first pasta bite.

Harry watched it, interested in it, but he was anxiously waiting for the answer. “Your mother will
give me The Prince House too for my meetings.” Harry’s heart started beating faster and he tried to
compose quickly. His mother was so materialistic sometimes. How could she sell their house?

“What if I made you a better offer?” Harry questioned purely on instinct. His mother won’t cheat
on him.

Voldemort stared at him, his pale face was glowing under the candles and Harry found himself
getting closer to it, until there were mere centimetres distancing them. They both grinned. “I have
to accept the offer of my future husband, it seems.”

The night flowed slowly, marvellous, but Harry couldn’t believe that a man like that was interested
in him. He was a kid , and the wizard acknowledged it.

Nothing would happen between them, not for the moment. However, a little kiss turned into a
thousand of them like they were two teenagers, instead of one. Heated, but firm. Harry didn’t dare
to go for more, didn’t want it either and Voldemort respected it with a gentleness he didn’t see in
anyone.

He was the monster under the bed. A nightmare, but he found that nightmares were also charming
and knowledgeable. He was excited to learn about magic, and the older one knew a lot of it.

The Dark arts too which Harry had a certain curiosity, not going to put his hands on it, but merely
understanding, trying to not be prejudiced about it. Their family was in the grey areas, and he
learned a lot from Snape in the last months.
A deal was sealed through the night, and he didn’t have much time because he had to go back to
Hogwarts. Using the portkey his headhouse gave him, he needed to appear in his private
headquarters first.

“I will be waiting for another invitation.” Harry said, softly, and Voldemort squeezed his left hand.
He felt every rough crease in the skin which seemed soft to his eyes, but not to the touch. The
wizard kissed his hand like in those cheesy movies and his cheeks flushed red. No one had done
that with him. It was a sweet demonstration of affection, but an old one at the same time.

“Another invitation will find your desk. A visit to the museums during the night would be the next
date.” Voldemort freezed after saying the word “date”. He didn’t have any of that when he was
younger.

Women and men were interested in him, but he never felt it was for him. He wasn’t prepared and
he didn’t like it. Kissing and sex were just a deal, a reward, but nothing more. It was sad in a way,
it was sad because he never respected his own well-being and it was obviously ridiculous and
predatory finding that purpose in a younger boy.

Harry kissed his lips fleetingly and touched the portkey. Flitwick was awake, putting some oil in
his hair, and he raised an eyebrow when he found him sitting in the chair. His hair was messy and
he knew he probably looked like he did something else.

“How are you, Harry?” Flitwick asked hurriedly, and a teacup poured him tea. It was cute .

“I am fine. It was really interesting and fun.” Harry said, and fluttered his eyelashes. He was tired
after all the gut-wrenching moments and excited because his offer was accepted.

“Could you make the little cupcakes dance, Professor Flitwick?” His professor was always
incredible at hearing the student’s problem and Harry cherished him. Every Ravenclaw loved him
and respected him.

“Of course, Mr Prince. I shall tell you that I was once a duelling champion.” Flitwick started
saying, and Harry giggled. It was a threat for the unknown man who wanted to marry. “So, if he
disrespected you someday. You should call me.” He ended up saying and the cupcakes flew to
desk and started a cheerful dance in which Harry clapped until they finished their little number.
“You are always the best, Professor Flitwick.” Harry got up from the seat and got closer to the
wizard to give him a hug, carefully hugging his back and then the man did the same to him,
encircling his back.

“It’s impossible to not cherish my Ravenclaw students. You are the best, perceptive, witty and
intelligent. Every Ravenclaw quality is in you.” Harry nodded and closed his eyes until he heard
his professor sobbing a little. His classmates teased him that he was pretty emotional, but they
always ended up in big group hugs between the Ravenclaw.

With his heart lighter, the sleepiness attacked his body quickly and he dozed off in just minutes.
The next morning, he woke up with new charged energy, especially because he had classes with
his cousin and Professor Flitwick.

Luna was expecting him with an empty seat, while Draco and Theodore were sitting beside him.
There was a certain animosity between the two houses; they were the darkest of the bunch and they
had a camaraderie between the students.

He gave bread crumbs to gossip , especially when Susan joined them with her lunch at the break.
She was feral and sarcastic. They made a good trio. Hermione, who was new to their group, was
there too. A Gryffindor with a true Ravenclaw heart. She nitpicked every single comment, but she
had a lot of knowledge which Harry found himself sharing with her.

Before the classes, he went to visit Snape in his batcave and flaunted a parchment over his nose.
The paper flew over him and recoiled when his cousin tried to touch it. He was getting irritated, but
Harry was having a good time. However, it seemed Snape wasn’t in a pleasant mood. The
parchment fell on the desk, and the man snatched it quickly to read it. His dark eyes read with the
intensity of an eagle.

“You didn’t.” Were his first words uttered at him, and Harry framed his face in a cute pose. Snape
was tired, enraged at his aunt for letting his cousin have a stupid date with an older man, with a
killer. He was sure the woman never cared about his cousin at all, only seeing him as a profit. It
didn’t matter what the student said.

The parchment contained his name inside The Prince genealogical tree and his mother too. He
didn’t know what thing he bargained for, but Lord Voldemort wasn’t compassionate at all if he
didn’t have a reward for him. Snape felt nausea pooling in his throat. What if the man wanted
Harry’s favours ? Harry’s body?
However, his cousin was smiling smugly. “I don’t want this .” He gave the parchment back, and
Harry pouted prettily. “I don’t want this if it means you have to lose your life.”

“You are so dramatic, Sevvie. I am not going to lose my life. I told you I was going to fix
everything out of the goodness of my heart. I made a better offer.” Harry punctuated every word
and Severus saw how his green eyes had a malicious glint on them. He had never seen it before,
but he was proud of it. The boy had a spine and character.

He took the parchment and clutched it against his cousin’s chest. “Welcome to The Prince house. I
am the Lord.” Harry made a respectful bow and snickered later.

Snape’s heart was beating loudly against his ribcage. Never once someone had made something for
him, apart from Lily when they were younger and she made him his birthday cakes.

Since she died, he didn’t celebrate his birthdays anymore. Harry was a gentle soul, but cunning. He
reread the parchment again, his name shone on the paper, in darker colours. The Crown of the
household was attached to the envelope.

“Are you my Lord now?” Severus asked, amused, and Harry saw the glitter in his eyes. He was
probably shocked and it was an emotional scene. “My mother would love this.” Bitter words were
spat out, but the way he always talked about his mother was with fondness.

“It seems I am.” Harry sheepishly said. It was kind of embarrassing, especially because he was
younger than Severus. “It’s our house now. I told you.”

Severus nodded curtly and locked the parchment in a dark luxurious box. Harry watched with awe
the mechanism inside of it and took some mental notes. He had to have one. “You are a little terror,
Harry. What is your next step? I have things to say on the matter too.”

Harry didn’t know about the next step, but the offer was still standing and accepted, so he could
thread it in the mean-time. Also, he had Snape by his side at the moment, and two intelligent minds
could do better.

“Have you met your father , Harry?” His cousin pronounced like he was saying a bad word, and
Harry was puzzled for a few moments.
He placed his finger on his chin. It was a topic that sometimes felt heavy on his tongue. “Yes and
no. I know he is a muggle, my mother told me that the man wanted to meet me in secret. I did it,
and he introduced me to his family.” It troubled him in a way, his eyes were full of tears when he
finished the sentence and his cousin listened to him with rapt attention.

“Two little girls. They are lovely and deserve the best. For some reason, I thought that I didn’t have
a place there. Maybe I am wrong! Or not!” He swiped away his tears and used his magic as a fan to
let them go. His father wasn’t a secret for him or his mother. The woman tried to be the most
sincere possible about it, but it was just a bittersweet memory.

The second date or invitation was how Harry dreamed a museum night could be. Voldemort was
using a glamour, even if there was barely anyone inside the place. It was a modern art museum.

Otherworldly, with all the chandeliers hanging off the roof, paintings with all the traces of the
brushes, the different colours. Harry had visited plenty of them with his mother, muggle and wizard
ones. They were in a muggle one and he thought it was because Voldemort couldn’t get recognised
that easily outside of the Wizarding World.

Harry didn’t pay for anything. It was all a gift, even if he was used to it. He had someone managing
his finances. His mother had done it when he was younger, but when he got older, she advised him
to use another person for his bank account.

Holding Voldemort’s hand, he trotted to the paintings and the stairs. He had a camera with him.
However, his date didn’t let him take photos with him, only his hands or something which wasn’t
identifiable.

He leaned his head on the man’s shoulder when they were in front of figures. They showed a
family, a happy marriage, kids, even a cat. They were captivating, a dream. “Did you have a
family?” He dared to ask and Voldemort's red eyes focused on him for an instant. He felt shivers
running down his spine.

“No. I merely know the term and only from an outside perspective.” His date easily answered, but
Harry caught a bristle in his tone.

“Sometimes it’s better. I always had my mother and she raised me alone under my grandfather's
polished boots and sharp tone. He commanded everything, and I really disliked it.” Harry
explained gently, and squeezed the man’s hand.
Voldemort didn’t comment after that, just moved him to another part of the museum. They shared
a simple meal together, and it was so weird seeing a Dark Lord doing that.

He couldn’t be in love with Harry, they had too many differences, the older had too many secrets
and killings over his head. He had his cousin under his thumb. But there was something which
joined him, there was something inside him that sang when Voldemort touched him or just
caressed his hair. Maybe it was a childish hope, a childish sentiment.

Being too serious or too blunt wasn’t Voldemort’s personality. The man knew how to use the dry
sarcasm Harry loved, and he knew how to be serious when the situation required. For example,
when a muggle during their night date pushed Harry away from a place with slur, and Voldemort
hexed him. Nothing outwardly, just a little hex as a reminder. It was hilarious and Harry felt
protected. He wasn’t looking for a father figure. Wasn’t he?

According to his studies and statistics, a lot of people who looked for older ones, had some kind of
“mommy and daddy issues”. He didn’t want to be part of the statistics, but maybe he was. He never
had a father, only met the man once and he had the delightful idea to introduce him to his real
family. He could vividly remember the little girl's faces.

“You enjoyed the dinner, then?” Voldemort questioned, snapping him out of his thoughts. They
were in a park which had lamps in a row all over the place. It looked haunted, but beautiful. His
curly hair shone against the moonlight, and Harry felt the desire to kiss him again. Fleetingly, like
the first time.

He hummed, and looking at his surroundings, he used his wand to make a Patronus which trotted
through the trees and disappeared in the green colour. Voldemort tensed beside him, but relaxed,
watching curiously the little snake. “My Patronus is a snake. I never knew why.” Harry replied
wishfully, and continued on. “The dinner and the museum were good.”

“You sure are similar to Severus.” Voldemort snorted, and Harry nodded proudly. His hand went
over his waist, and the stars shone on the sky while they were having a nice time together. Harry
felt pressed against a chest full of secrets, but full of expectations.

The next day

“What was the offer?” Snape questioned when they were alone in his Headquarters and everyone
else was sleeping. It was a habit for both of them. Two little Princes hiding themselves in the
middle of the night.
“I am surviving on deals , Sevvie.” Harry said, sipping the blueberry beverage Flitwick bought for
him for some unknown reason. “He won’t have our house. My mother decided to sell him another
place we had, far away from here, but with everything included. During the vacations, you can start
living in our house.”

Snape irked an eyebrow. Ironically, and decided to not comment over the issue hanging and
weighing on his shoulders too. “I told you, I was going to fix everything for my benefit.”

They laughed happily and Snape felt that maybe there wasn’t only darkness ahead. For a long time,
he was alone, after losing Lily. There wasn’t anyone for him. His mother had died, and his father
too, rather miserably, like he should. Harry made everything better. And his benefit was everyone’s
benefit.

“Are you preparing for the OWL’s, Mr Prince?” Severus cleared his throat and Harry finished his
juice, widening his eyes.

“What do you think, Mr Prince? Do you think I am not prepared for it?” Harry questioned him
back, playfully and left his office.

During the vacation, a new portrait was hung on the living room of The Prince Household. There
were only three members alive. Harry contracted a special photographer and bargained an
incredible amount of money for it. It was the first time in years, since he was a child and had seen
his aunt passing through his house, that he was faced with the woman again.

“Hello, Severus. You really looked like her . I am delighted that you joined us for the afternoon.”
The woman said. Lycoris was smart and cunning. Materialistic as her own son described her. Her
eyes were darker like his own, and she was a replica of Eileen. She was really gentle with him and
Severus couldn’t believe it.

“What have you done to her?” He mouthed to his cousin.

Harry smirked and mouthed back. “We made a deal .”

The Jewel of the house was placed in Harry’s head and Severus disentangled his hair. The Crown
was bigger than him and it looked kind of ridiculous, but the elegance and the poise figure his
cousin had was unmistakable, unreachable. Even Lycoris seemed pleased with herself of his son.
 And he could feel the same. Harry Prince was their pride .

Chapter End Notes

Can you believe that I wrote most of my fics from the Barbie's soundtrack? I literally
had a lot of inspiration and the will of living awakened on me since the fateful day I
watched twice in a row the movie. By the way, I hoped everyone liked this silly little
fic of mine. It's really precious for me and I didn't know that many people would like
to read it. Please, send a nice review if you like, if you want!

Harry put the fix as his second name.

I based my description of Flitwick on this and my knowledge from the books:

"Speaking of eccentrics, you'll like our Head of house, Professor Filius Flitwick.
People often underestimate him, because he's really tiny (we think he's part elf, but
we've never been rude enough to ask) and he's got a squeaky voice, but he's the best
and most knowledgeable Charms master alive in the world today. His office door is
always open to any Ravenclaw with a problem, and if you're in a real state he'll get out
these delicious little cupcakes he keeps in a tin in his desk drawer and make them do a
little dance for you. In fact, it's worth pretending you're in a real state just to see them
jive."
— Description of Professor Flitwick

End Notes

1. This is my pure imagination turning true some things I wanted. Severus Snape is one of
my favourite characters ever and obviously Harry. It was so funny thinking that he could be
Severus's relative so I had to write it.

Severus: you are flirting with an old man

Harry: but I can fix him

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