Bonus Chapter: Harry's Past

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In all honesty, whenever Harry found himself opening up about his origins to someone, he always felt less and less pitiful.

The amount of times he's had to disclose his tale was probably more than he could recall based on his memory, a majority of the telling having to be when he was a young teenager.

He wasn't particularly secretive about what occurred to him, and whenever someone asked he was more than likely to tell them if he wasn't in a foul mood. However, there was always that one detail in his own story he omitted no matter who he was speaking to.

It was a single factor that he tried to push back for the sake of his own strength. The factor was marred his brain for the shame it caused him, for the weakness it gave him.

Because how could the merciless, deadly Prince of the Seven Seas have a weakness as pitiful as his own?

A pathetic infatuation with the son of the man who took away everything he held dear.

The simple thought of Louis Tomlinson had been able to bring his mind into a haze when he first started his pirating career as a member of Lionheart, but with the constant kills and torture he'd been pulled through, the name thankfully lost a majority of the effect it held into his brain.

He tried not to focus on the name of the Prince of the United Kingdom anymore. Every time he thought about him, he tried not to take notice that his heart beat turned up a bit faster than he'd liked.

After so many times of trying, he gave up on attempting to change his childish admiration into hatred.

It couldn't be done. So he simply settled on ignoring the fact the oblivious male even existed. It wasn't as though their paths would cross.

Ironically enough, that was the exact opposite of what he would have thought back a few years in time...

Whenever Harry thought back on it, to be fair, he couldn't blame himself for being the kind of child with nothing more big dreams. When you had nothing but dreams, you learn to live your life through them to give yourself a purpose.

From the time the last Catholic Tomlinson ruler had been declared on the brink of death and the whole kingdom had been buzzing over the fact a Protestant King would step forward, Harry remembered the first time he caught a look at the soon-to-be royal's picture.

The Prince appeared his age and had the most gorgeous smile Harry had ever seen. He had heard more about the new royals—the prince in particular— from the other village children who all had crushes on the brown haired lad as well.

Harry could remember he was never jealous whenever those neighborhood girls went on and on about how Louis would grow up to be their Prince Charming. The only reason he hadn't been jealous was because he had been so firm in believing that he and Prince Louis were soul mates.

He had been so sure that those girls were nothing and that when he and the Prince first saw each other, they'd be in love.

Puppy-love and childish ignorance apparently blinded his eyes.

Ever so slowly, his rights had been stripped from him and his family, along with the other Roman Catholics in the United Kingdom.

They were discriminated against and it came to a point where they didn't even have permission to run their Bakery business.

At that point, Harry was still too young to understand why it was all happening.

He remembered his mother crying a lot more often, Gemma had been more irritated than usual, and the kids in the village didn't play outside as much...

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