There was one month left before Hogwarts started.
However composed Allen might be, he was still only an eleven-year-old boy. Faced with an entirely unfamiliar wizarding world, he felt deeply insecure.
To give himself more leverage, Allen broke with precedent and invited an outsider into Balmoral.
This private estate of the King had never welcomed such an unusual guest.
Edward also thought that winning over the Chosen One might prove difficult, so he let Allen do as he pleased.
But when they saw Harry's unwitting trust, and Dumbledore's willingness to compromise for the sake of Harry's friendships, neither could help smiling.
The aroma of black tea wafted through the little tea house.
Victory was already in their grasp.
Allen admitted that it was rather underhanded. This mixture of sympathy and exploitation had easily won the Chosen One's trust.
Yet for an orphan living under someone else's roof, even their modest kindness and tolerance already amounted to salvation.
Driven by a faint pang of conscience, Edward and Allen did not mind sharing a little of their royal education with Harry. That evening, they also held a simple, belated birthday party for him.
Compared with Allen's birthday banquet, this party was hardly lavish. It could even be called modest-
In Balmoral's dining room, a snowy-white tablecloth lay over the walnut wood dining table.
The everyday silver cutlery had been neatly arranged. Triss wheeled in an eight-inch birthday cake, the flames of its eleven candles flickering gently.
Behind her, attendants carried platters and set out steak, sandwiches, and milk.
Allen looked slightly apologetic. "Please forgive me, Harry. We had to prepare in a hurry, so dinner is rather ordinary. It's a little late, but better late than never-happy birthday!"
Harry shook his head. Tears blurred the new lenses of his glasses. He quickly wiped his eyes, still wearing the glasses whose tear-streaked lenses made him look rather comical.
Edward condescended to join them at the head of the table, smiling gently. "Happy birthday, Harry! Make a wish!"
As the attendants behind him sang the birthday song, Harry closed his eyes and earnestly made his wish-
I hope all of this is real!
God! Please!
From then on, Harry was utterly devoted to Edward and Allen. When he learned that they wanted him to study alongside Allen, he agreed all the more happily.
Until-
Harry was thrown to the floor by his combat instructor again. Panting heavily, he watched Allen exchange blows with another instructor.
His hair was disheveled, his black training clothes darkened with sweat. Damp strands clung to his forehead, and he simply lay down on the floor.
"Teacher Smith! I can't go on!"
Allen's attention wavered for an instant, and Cook's fist was already heading straight for his face. He jerked his head aside, ducked low, and swept out a leg.
The instructor lost his footing and fell onto his back, then rolled sharply aside to avoid Allen's fist.
Seeing that Allen's fist was about to strike the floor at full force, Cook hurriedly slid over and caught the blow with his palm.
Allen froze, then withdrew his fist in embarrassment as Cook stood up, grimacing.
Cook sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Good, your strength training has paid off! But you still need to be more agile!"
Allen nodded in agreement, then went over and pulled Harry to his feet.
Harry hung limply like a dead fish. "...Your Highness, do I really have to do this training?"
Allen chuckled, shattering his hopes with a single sentence. "Yes! Harry, you're in more danger than I am. Remember, you're facing a Dark Lord who has killed countless people."
Harry struggled to force a smile. "You're right... I'm going to take a shower," he said weakly.
Allen glanced at Triss beside him. Taking the hint, she said, "Evening lessons begin at six thirty. Please remember to come downstairs for dinner at five thirty."
"There are still thirty-odd minutes," Allen reassured him. "That's enough time to wash up and rest."
Harry's eyes were blank. At last, he understood how hard Allen's everyday life was.
He glanced at Triss beside him. He had not forgotten how, at the start of training, this gentle older girl had knocked Teacher Smith down with a single punch.
When they came down for dinner, Edward happened to be coming downstairs too.
His Majesty smiled. "How is your combat training coming along?"
"Quite well," Allen replied with a smile. "Teacher Cook said my strength training has been very effective. Harry's strength and agility have improved too."
Harry nodded, his hair still slightly damp, looking rather dejected. "Teacher Smith is too good. I've trained for so long, and I still can't last ten moves against him!"
Allen laughed. "But you've improved a lot. At first, you could only dodge two moves. It's only been a week, and you can already last seven!"
Edward agreed. "As long as you're improving, that's what matters. Don't put too much pressure on yourself. You're actually very clever!"
Suddenly praised by both of them, Harry flushed bright red and flashed Triss a V sign, his eyes shining.
Triss smiled and returned an encouraging gesture.
After dinner, Allen and Harry returned to the study together to read their textbooks.
This was what their evening lessons consisted of. The Muggles could not find suitable teachers, so they could only study on their own.
Fortunately, they had each other for company and could discuss what they had learned from their reading.
The magic books were fascinating, and both boys read with relish. When it came to practicing spells, Allen had a deeper understanding of how magic flowed, and his experiments with a few simple spells went smoothly.
It seemed as natural as moving his own limbs. Allen did not even need incantations; he only had to think of what he wanted, and he could easily achieve the desired effect.
Harry was a little less capable and needed incantations to guide him, but he was making good progress too-he had considerable talent.
When it came to magical theory, however, Harry lagged far behind.
While Allen eagerly worked through hefty volumes, pondering the deeper meanings of magic, Harry was already getting sleepy.
This was their daily routine during the month before school began.
Edward suspended many of Allen's ordinary lessons, added more sparring sessions, and required him to become thoroughly familiar with his textbooks.
Harry was swept into this intensive course of study as well.
He did not, however, need to attend public engagements.
So while Allen attended engagements, Harry stayed at Balmoral, studying ordinary Muggle-world subjects with Triss or running wild around the estate.
Beneath an azure sky, gray castle buildings stood amid carefully maintained lawns, with densely wooded, rolling mountains behind them.
Harry swore this was the best place in the world!
Triss dutifully reported all of this to Allen.
With the light behind him, the Crown Prince's sea-blue eyes looked dark and unreadable.
Allen smiled faintly, his long, pale fingers lifting a rose in full bloom from its vase, his blond hair gleaming brilliantly.
He said, "Then let him lose himself in it."
-This was for the greater good.
In just half a month, Harry made astonishing progress. If Uncle Vernon had seen him, he would certainly have been amazed at what Harry had become.
The once loud and reckless boy had absorbed the influence around him and developed a measure of composure. Whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, he now carried a hint of aristocratic grace.
Unfortunately, his unruly hair had not improved in the slightest.
-Allen had lamented this countless times, glaring fiercely at that messy head of hair.
Having brought Harry this far, Allen felt he had already made up for exploiting him at the outset.
So he withdrew some of his attention, leaving Triss to teach Harry his Muggle subjects while he accompanied Edward through a busy schedule of engagements.
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