House-elves

The gathering was finally drawing to a close.

With Valentine keeping things organized, Allen sat in an armchair, patiently answering the young wizards' questions one by one.

Their questions covered royal rules, Allen's daily life, the truth behind various curious rumors...

After all, opportunities to meet the Crown Prince at such close quarters were exceedingly rare.

The young wizards were brimming with energy-even though most had not taken an afternoon nap, they showed no sign of fatigue.

Allen indulged them, satisfying their curiosity one question at a time.

"Does His Majesty the King usually dine with you?"

"Of course, sir. We eat all three meals together."

"Do letters addressed to you have to be inspected?"

"Naturally, my dear. Especially since the owls from Hogwarts revealed my exact address."

The young wizards burst into laughter.

"Has His Majesty ever visited Diagon Alley?"

"Yes. His Majesty the King has experienced the wonders of the wizarding world and is very interested in its various magical books."

"How did you suddenly become a school governor?"

"My father was concerned about your studies and lives in this other world, and worried about your circumstances. So he asked Professor Dumbledore to arrange for me to become a school governor, giving me some say in matters."

"Since you've never attended school normally, what do you usually study?"

"After I finished learning the basics at nine, my father hired numerous professors from different disciplines to teach me."

"What do you do for fun?"

Allen, who had been answering fluently, suddenly fell silent. After thinking carefully for quite a while, he said regretfully, "Nothing, miss-unless combat training counts."

As the questions and answers continued, dinnertime soon arrived.

The Room of Requirement transformed into a miniature version of the Hogwarts Great Hall.

The young wizards gathered happily around Allen, asking about his dining preferences.

"Although I'm this country's Crown Prince, I can't praise British food in good conscience."

Amid the young wizards' uproarious laughter, Allen said with a smile,

"But the desserts at Hogwarts are excellent, with just the right amount of sweetness. Unfortunately, I don't know who the chef is. Otherwise, I'd offer him a fortune to come make desserts at the palace!"

Miss Sharp glanced at Valentine.

Sure enough, the Hufflepuff boy rushed to answer,

"It's the house-elves, Your Highness! The elves help prepare the students' food and clothes!"

Seeing Allen look his way, he subtly puffed out his chest, his eyes darting about.

"The kitchen is right beside the Hufflepuff Common Room. All you have to do is tickle the pear in the painting, and a handle will appear-"

"The kitchen's right inside!"

Another Hufflepuff jumped in to answer.

Allen smiled gently at the student. Noticing Valentine's slight disappointment, he casually said, "Mr. Lister? Would you mind taking me to the Hogwarts kitchen in a little while? Sorry for the trouble."

Valentine immediately brightened. He rubbed his reddened ears.

"Just call me Valentine, Your Highness-it would be my pleasure!"

The feast ended on a cheerful note. Allen watched the young wizards reluctantly leave one by one, then turned to the three standing behind him.

"Thank you all very much for your help! Especially Miss Sharp's organizational framework-it saved me a great deal of trouble!"

Diana bowed slightly, her sea-blue earrings swaying gently. "Please don't mention it. It is our honor to serve you!"

Miss Sharp reminded him, "Please remember the communication badges. It would be wonderful if they could be ready before next month's selection!"

Allen nodded with a sigh. "Yes, and the magical contracts too, right?"

The cool, reserved girl paused, then the corners of her lips lifted slightly.

His Highness had accepted their allegiance!

Alger and Valentine could barely contain themselves either. Bowing respectfully with their hands over their hearts, they declared excitedly, "Your knights, at your service!"

They left the Room of Requirement and parted at the staircase on the Seventh Floor.

Allen walked at an unhurried pace, listening as a somewhat nervous Valentine described Hogwarts' secret passages and rumors, occasionally joining in the discussion.

At last, they reached the Hogwarts kitchen.

Valentine tickled the emerald-green pear, and it flipped over to become a door handle.

Like an intricate carpenter's mechanism, Allen thought.

They pushed the door open and stepped inside. Hundreds of green eyes, each the size of a tennis ball, turned toward them in unison.

Allen stopped short and leaned back almost imperceptibly before realizing that these were over a hundred house-elves.

They had large, batlike ears and long, flat noses reminiscent of Pinocchio from the story.

Almost all the elves wore shabby pillowcases, with a handful possessing a sock or two.

Valentine greeted them with practiced ease. "Hello! Let me introduce you to His Highness our Crown Prince!"

The hundred-odd pairs of bulging green eyes blinked in unison. The elves looked at Allen, then erupted into an unstoppable chorus of shrieks.

They scrambled to crowd around Allen-

Only to be stopped by Valentine, of course-

And asked in shrill voices, "Honored wizard, sir, what would you like?"

Allen sat on a stool at a small table nearby and instinctively smiled. "A cup of black tea, thank you."

The elves scrambled off again to prepare the tea, then crowded back over, each carrying a cup.

"This is Assam tea, wizard, sir..."

"Here, here! This is Ceylon tea!"

"This is Lapsang Souchong..."

"And Darjeeling tea..."

"And an Earl Grey blend... Which would you like, wizard, sir?"

The elves held dozens of cups of freshly brewed tea in front of Allen.

Allen silently drew his legs in to avoid being scalded.

He addressed one of the elves. "Ceylon tea, with a little sugar, thank you."

The elf's large eyes instantly filled with tears. "Oh! Oh! The wizard, sir, thanked Coco! You're such a good person, wizard, sir!"

The corners of Allen's mouth twitched slightly as he took the white bone-china cup.

"Would you like milk, sir?"

"Or lemon?"

"And sugar cubes!"

The house-elves enthusiastically piled plates and dishes onto the little table once more.

Allen declined their offers and asked, "Could I have a mango pudding?"

"Of course, sir!"

They bustled about, preparing the dessert.

A little embarrassed, Valentine raised a fist to his mouth and coughed lightly. "They're always like this. Please don't mind them."

Allen smiled and shook his head. "It's all right."

He beckoned to an elf, who immediately vanished from the spot and appeared beside him.

The elf bowed respectfully, its long nose touching the floor. "Honored wizard, sir, what are your orders?"

Allen narrowed his eyes and glanced at the spot where the elf had been standing. "How did you come over so suddenly? I remember that transportation magic is forbidden at Hogwarts."

The elf answered timidly, "Oh, sir. Bell only wanted to come over as quickly as possible to carry out your instructions-this is an innate ability of us house-elves."

A spatial spell? An inherited gift?

Allen raised his eyebrows slightly. "Can you do anything I ask?"

Valentine gave Allen a puzzled look, unable to understand why he would ask such a question.

Who came to the kitchen for anything other than food?

The elf proudly puffed out its chest. "Yes!"

Allen chuckled softly and leaned forward a little, his sea-blue eyes deep and unfathomable, a few creases forming in his dark-gray suit. "Even if I asked you to go to Buckingham Palace and fetch me a suit?"

Bell shrank back and stammered, "But... we can't leave Hogwarts..."

The elf abruptly covered its eyes and began wailing, repeatedly striking its own head. "Ah! Bell is a bad elf! Bell can't carry out the wizard, sir's task..."

The sudden turn of events stunned Allen for a moment. He hurriedly raised a hand. "Stop... stop! Bell!"

He sat up straight, his voice dropping into an authoritative tone. "I order you to stop!"

Bell sniffled, wiping tears and snot onto the pillowcase it wore, its mouth drooping as it dared not make another sound.

"Go and make some desserts!" Valentine said soothingly.

Allen watched the elf turn and run back to the stove, then shook his head slightly.

The cursory account of house-elves in History of Magic suddenly took on a darker hue. For thousands of years, they had been enslaved and never treated well.

The keen vigilance of a ruler abruptly surfaced.

Allen narrowed his eyes-

If this continued, would wizards eventually pay the price for the way they treated house-elves?

Just like the workers' uprisings during the Industrial Revolution.

The house-elves scrambled to bring over different kinds of mango pudding. Piercing shrieks rang out intermittently, and the kitchen descended into chaos.

Valentine could not help frowning.

Just as he thought Allen was about to lose his temper, Allen calmly accepted a dessert from an elf, tasted it attentively, and even praised their skill.

The blond Crown Prince looked at them with an approachable air and asked, "Could I take some desserts with me? Your cooking is wonderful! Especially the pudding."

The house-elves were overjoyed.

They happily packed everything up, even slipping Allen assorted biscuits and cakes, and said, "If you need anything, you can call us directly from your bedroom!"

Allen nodded gently and slipped the brown paper bags the elves had packed into his pocket.