Henry looked toward his grandmother.
Elizabeth was listening quietly, her face revealing little emotion.
Diana looked at her son.
The worry in her eyes had not completely disappeared, but it had gradually been replaced by a mixture of astonishment, pride, and emotions even more complicated and difficult to put into words.
She suddenly realized that the little boy in her arms who had once needed her protection was transforming at an astonishing speed into a prince who would have to shoulder the burdens of his country and his family.
She could no longer simply protect him as a child.
Charles crossed his legs and slowly spoke.
“You’ve thought very far ahead, Henry. But the risks…”
“Risks will always exist, Father.” Henry picked up the thread.
“There are risks even if I stay at Buckingham Palace. The difference is that the risks in the magical world are unknown, but the potential rewards are unprecedented as well. If we abandon this opportunity because we fear the unknown, then centuries from now, our descendants may blame us for retreating out of cowardice when history presented the Royal Family with a crucial opportunity to expand the dimensions of its influence.”
He looked toward the Queen again and bowed slightly.
“Of course, all of this depends on your approval and support, Grandma. My primary identity is that of your loyal grandson. Everything I do must serve the overall interests of the Royal Family and follow your wishes.”
The study fell silent once more, and everyone’s eyes turned toward Elizabeth II behind the desk.
The Queen remained silent for a long time.
Finally, she raised her eyes and slowly looked over her son, daughter-in-law, and husband before her gaze settled on her grandson’s face, so similar to that of George VI.
“Responsibility,” she said clearly.
“You understand it very well, Henry. That is precisely where the weight of the Crown lies—it forces you to see aspects ordinary people cannot see and bear choices that ordinary people never have to make.”
She nodded slightly and delivered her final decision.
“I support you going to Hogwarts, according to the arrangement we reached with Headmaster Dumbledore. I also approve of your thinking. But remember…”
Her tone became firm and unquestionable.
“Safety is the bottom line. Your first priority is to come back unharmed. No strategic consideration can ever take precedence over that. Do you understand?”
“I understand completely, Grandma.” Henry nodded solemnly.
“As for you, Diana…” The Queen turned toward her daughter-in-law, her tone softening somewhat.
“I know this is difficult to accept. But Henry’s path has already opened before him. What we can do is prepare him properly, then trust his judgment and courage. He needs our trust, just as this family needs him to shoulder his responsibilities.”
Prince Philip finally snorted and walked over to Henry, giving his grandson a hard slap on the shoulder.
The force was not light.
“Well said, boy. That’s how a man should act!”
…
Over the following days, everything seemed to return to normal.
Every day, besides studying the subjects of the Muggle world, Henry also had to preview his magical lessons.
His day usually began at six-thirty in the morning.
In a private sitting room in one of the wings of Buckingham Palace, Henry had more than just porridge and juice in front of him.
There was also an open copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.
The mornings were usually devoted to Muggle subjects: history, literature, mathematics, and so on, all taught by private tutors.
During breaks, he might be summoned to accompany his grandmother Elizabeth on some light royal duties, such as attending a preview of a charity art exhibition, meeting a decorated veteran in the garden, or fulfilling his royal obligations by appearing on a television program.
On such occasions, he was “Prince Henry,” with a proper smile and impeccable manners.
Because of his precocious intelligence, and even more because of his resemblance to his great-grandfather, the George VI who had led Britain to victory in World War II, the public adored him.
As a result, Henry’s popularity was extremely high.
After lunch and a brief respite came his magical study period.
He would hide in the study and repeatedly read the introductory chapters on magical energy guidance in Magical Theory.
Using a quill rather than a fountain pen or ballpoint, he clumsily and awkwardly copied out the runic alphabet.
After all, Hogwarts used quills everywhere, so this also allowed him to become familiar with them in advance.
He tried the Levitation Charm, progressing from a feather to the cap of a fountain pen as his target.
He succeeded several times and also caused several minor accidents that required the attendants to pretend they had not seen anything.
The background summaries Sir Arnold sent through encrypted letters were mixed in as well.
The contents were dry but contained an enormous amount of information, such as the fact that the Muggle family of a certain Ministry of Magic official’s spouse had investments in the textile industry, or that a certain pure-blood family had once been involved in a lawsuit with a Muggle aristocrat over a land dispute in the eighteenth century.
Henry categorized and recorded these seemingly unrelated fragments in another notebook.
William and Harry would come running over, pestering him with questions like, “How’s your magic practice going?” Henry would usually demonstrate the simplest Lumos spell, making a small, steady glow appear at the tip of his wand.
That alone was enough to make his two younger brothers cry out in amazement for ages.
Diana would come to wish him goodnight, run her fingers through his hair, and ask whether he was tired.
The concern in her eyes was gradually being replaced by pride that she tried hard to keep hidden.
Charles would occasionally take a walk with him as well.
They might discuss environmental protection, or Charles might suddenly ask something like, “Do you think wizards have any way of dealing with climate change?”
His questions could be wildly imaginative, but Henry knew that his cheap old man was trying to understand what value that world might have to offer.
On weekends, a driver would take him to Windsor Castle to visit his great-grandmother, Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother.
The old lady was already ninety years old, but she remained spirited and sharp, and she particularly adored this great-grandson who had been exceptionally clever from an early age.
Sitting in a sunlit sitting room amid the fragrance of tea and the sweetness of cake, the Queen Mother would listen with a smile as Henry animatedly told her about the interesting moments and frustrations of his magical studies.
Her gray-blue eyes were filled with amusement.
“Oh, darling, how wonderful!” She would pat the back of Henry’s hand, the antique ring on her finger glinting softly.
“When I was a girl, I used to read fairy tales and wish they were real. I never imagined my little Henry would actually be going to a place like that! Remember, no matter what interesting tricks you learn, you must come back and perform them for Great-Grandma.”
She never pressed him for details or showed any concern.
Instead, with the broad-mindedness that came from having lived through an entire century of upheaval, she gave him the purest support.
Once, she even mysteriously took an old-fashioned brooch set with gemstones from a small drawer and slipped it into Henry’s hand.
“Wear this, darling. Old things can sometimes bring good luck. This is from the time of Queen Victoria.”
Henry solemnly accepted it.
He knew that it had nothing to do with magic.
It was about inheritance and blessing.
Time quietly passed amid these warm family moments, while the date of the new school year drew closer and closer on the calendar.
Finally, September 1 arrived.