Draco had only been gone a short while, and Allen had just stepped down from the stool, when the doorbell chimed softly.
A thin little boy wearing glasses and dragging around enormous, ill-fitting clothes pushed the door open shyly. Alone, he seemed rather lost.
When the boy saw Allen's face, he suddenly exclaimed, "Prince Allen?!"
Allen stiffened, annoyed that he had forgotten to disguise his face before going out.
He turned and gave the boy a courteous, gentlemanly nod. "Hello! Are you going to Hogwarts too?"
When the boy nodded blankly, he asked, "May I have your name?"
The boy was rather nervous, excited to meet the prince in person and astonished that the prince was actually going to Hogwarts. He stammered, "I, I'm Harry Potter!"
"Harry Potter?"
Before Allen could say anything, Madam Malkin, who had been sorting robe fabric, hurried out from the back.
"Harry Potter?"
She stepped forward excitedly and clasped Harry's hand, her eyes full of wonder, eagerness, and affection. There was also a touch of-how to put it-the curiosity of people scrambling for tickets to see the pandas at the National Zoo.
"Harry Potter!!! What an honor! You have no idea how grateful we are to you!"
Allen watched Madam Malkin's excessive reaction and nodded in understanding.
He and his royal father encountered this sort of reception whenever they went on a public visit-
It seemed the Chosen One carried quite a lot of prestige.
Harry was clearly unused to this treatment. Although he had already experienced it at the Leaky Cauldron, Allen was right beside him!
That was Prince Allen!
The brilliant Prince Allen, who had grown up adored and praised by the entire country!
The only person Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia ever said was better than Dudley!
No, wait-the prince had been made Duke of Cornwall a few days ago. He could now be addressed as the Crown Prince!
The Crown Prince was right beside him! Aaaah!
Although he apparently was famous among wizards for some unknown reason, Harry firmly believed he could not compare to Prince Allen in any respect.
Prince Allen was every child's idol!
Having people scramble to shake his hand in front of the Crown Prince was far too much pressure!
Feeling terribly uneasy, Harry glanced at the Crown Prince. When he discovered that the Crown Prince was merely curious about the situation, he instantly breathed a sigh of relief.
He thought the most awkward part was over. Who could have guessed that Madam Malkin would simply abandon the Crown Prince at her side and enthusiastically start measuring Harry with her tape measure?
His face grew warm, and he cast an embarrassed glance at Allen beside him.
Fortunately, Allen seemed completely unbothered. Once the fit of his clothes had been adjusted, he stepped down from the stool and sat with gentlemanly grace in the waiting area, waiting for Madam Malkin to finish measuring Harry.
After finally persuading Madam Malkin to go into the back to make the clothes, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He edged over to Allen and apologized quietly, looking guilty. "Your Highness, I'm sorry!"
Allen chuckled. "Mr. Potter! I don't understand what you're apologizing for."
Harry looked uncomfortable. "That lady passed you over to shake my hand. Didn't that offend you?"
Allen did not know whether to laugh or cry. In truth, he rather enjoyed the feeling of having no one pay attention to his status.
He smiled and shook his head. "Not at all, Mr. Potter! You don't need to apologize for that, or worry in the slightest!"
Only after relaxing did Harry dare to look Allen over openly.
The Crown Prince before him wore an immaculate white shirt and suit trousers, his polished leather shoes spotless. His expression was gentle and tolerant, giving Harry the sense of security he associated with an adult.
As Harry looked at him, his thoughts suddenly returned to the day Allen had received his title-
That day, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had gathered around the television to watch the live broadcast.
Dudley had an armchair all to himself. He kept stuffing biscuits into his mouth, leaning forward with shining eyes as he watched the splendor on television.
"What's that? That thing on the prince's chest?"
"Oh, my darling Dada," said the thin woman with the long neck, wearing a peculiar smile. "That's Prince Allen's Duke's Insignia! How dazzling!"
"Is Prince Allen officially the Crown Prince now?" Dudley asked indistinctly around a mouthful of biscuit.
"Oh, Dudley!" The fat man beside the woman picked up a small biscuit, his face flushed as he gestured excitedly.
"You must understand, His Highness Allen was already First in Line to the Throne! You could say that as long as he doesn't die, he'll be the next King!
"Oh, no, Prince Allen will certainly stay safe and healthy. God bless him!"
[Now, His Majesty the King will deliver his address!]
The presenter's restrained, steady voice came from the television.
Aunt Petunia watched the television delightedly, then suddenly wrinkled her nose and shouted toward the kitchen.
"Harry Potter! Watch the oven! Don't burn my biscuits! If you dare make me miss His Highness Allen's investiture, you'd better watch yourself!"
"Watch yourself, boy!"
Uncle Vernon also bellowed toward the kitchen in his gruff voice.
Dressed in oversized, ill-fitting clothes, Harry adjusted his glasses, which were barely held together with tape, secretly rolled his eyes, and hurried into the kitchen.
A little later, he came out carrying a plate and set it on the living room table.
"Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, the biscuits are ready..."
As the little boy spoke, his gaze had already drifted toward the television. The prince on the screen was dressed in magnificent finery, kneeling on one knee on a cushion with a hand over his heart.
Harry raised a hand to adjust his round black glasses-the taped arm meant they were always slipping down his nose-and watched the Crown Prince on television with considerable envy.
"For Prince Allen's sake..." Uncle Vernon muttered, without sparing him any attention.
The black ceremonial hat with its long feather was removed, and blond hair shone like sunlight beneath the lights.
Allen knelt on one knee on the cushion, his eyes lowered as the King placed the Crown Prince's Diadem on his head.
Dudley watched the diadem on Allen's head, while Harry watched the cushion beneath Allen's knee.
Even as honors were bestowed upon him, everyone still worried whether kneeling for that brief moment might make the prince uncomfortable.
On television, Allen rose with the King's hand in his and stood on the raised platform, wearing the glittering diadem as he looked down at the subjects below.
"Oh!"
The family of three beside Harry clutched their chests theatrically. Judging by their expressions, they might have won five million.
Harry discreetly wiped his eyes, hiding the tears that had appeared for no clear reason, and watched enviously as the father and son walked forward hand in hand on the screen.
Soon it was time for an interval, and the television cut to advertisements.
Only then did Aunt Petunia seem to remember him, glaring at Harry beside her.
"What are you still doing here! Hurry up and fry the bacon! Have you forgotten it's lunchtime, you conceited little brat...
"Don't you know we have to stay by the television today... Can't learn a single good thing from Prince Allen..."
Harry turned away under the woman's relentless, spiteful nagging. He looked at Dudley with distaste and could not help retorting inwardly-
As if Prince Allen would ever make lunch himself!
After that day, Aunt Petunia had continued using Allen as an example to mock him, but he would not take it out on Allen.
After all, Allen knew nothing about any of this.
He pressed his lips together, his gaze soon settling on Allen's eyes. "Your Highness, your eyes really are beautiful. Even prettier than in the official photographs!"
The wait was long and dull. Besides, Allen was interested in this boy who had caused such a stir, and was quite happy to chat with him.
"Your eyes are beautiful too, like the loveliest emerald in His Majesty's crown."
Suddenly praised by his idol, Harry felt a little dizzy, so flustered that he could not speak.
Allen smiled gently and said with understanding, "It must have been quite a shock to learn you were a young wizard, wasn't it?"
Harry nodded, and the floodgates immediately opened. He talked nonstop, from discovering the Hogwarts letters to all the ways his uncle had tried to stop him.
Then he went from the bullying he suffered from his uncle's family and his cousin to how Hagrid, the half-giant, had brought him to Diagon Alley...
Allen listened with a smile throughout, then sighed and offered some comfort. "Does suddenly becoming the Chosen One put a lot of pressure on you?"
Harry felt a sting in his nose. In all his eleven years, no one had ever listened to him so attentively.
Not only that, Allen had shown no impatience at all, even while listening to these trivial things and all his complaints. He cared so much about him, too!
He wiped his eyes, imagining he was being discreet, and wrung his hands. "I seem to be important here, but I don't even know why... It makes me really uneasy..."
Allen looked at him, hesitated, then said, "Headmaster Dumbledore told me that the Dark Lord wanted to kill you because of a prophecy, and your parents died protecting you..."
Harry's eyes widened. He eagerly seized Allen's hand, hoping he would say more.
Allen did not rebuke this breach of etiquette. He had never met his own mother either.
In that respect, the two of them shared the same sorrow.
He sincerely relayed Dumbledore's account to Harry, explaining, "Because of that incident, because of you, the Dark Lord disappeared, and peace returned to the wizarding world..."
"That's why they're all so grateful to you."
Harry said nothing. After a long while, he raised a hand to wipe away his tears again.
This time, he could not hide them. Great drops of tears streamed all over his face.
Allen silently handed him a handkerchief and watched the thin little boy hastily wipe his face.
So this was how the wizarding world's Chosen One lived...
He sighed inwardly, sympathizing with what the boy had endured.
Harry quickly composed himself and looked at Allen gratefully. "Your Highness, thank you for telling me all this..."
Allen shook his head lightly, smiling gently. "Don't worry, Mr. Potter. You'll be going to Hogwarts soon. It's the only school of magic in the United Kingdom, so there are bound to be plenty of people there who knew your parents."
"When the time comes, you can ask them for some photographs of your parents..."
Those emerald-green eyes instantly lit up.
Harry's whole demeanor brightened. He grinned at Allen and nodded emphatically. "You're right! Thank you so much, Your Highness!"
Allen wore a gentle, patient smile. "You're welcome, Mr. Potter! I'm glad I could ease some of your worries."
Harry scratched his head. "If you don't mind, you can call me Harry!"
Allen paused, realizing that his actions, motivated by duty and curiosity, had won the Chosen One's heart so easily.
With a little wistfulness, he nodded gently and readily changed how he addressed him. "Harry, do you still have to go back to your uncle's house until school starts?"
Harry wilted and nodded.
Allen looked at him, wanting to cheer this poor child up a little. After some thought, he asked, "Harry, which professor brought you to Diagon Alley?"
Harry looked up in confusion, but answered anyway. "It was Hagrid! He's absolutely huge! Oh, who brought you here?"
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Allen said with a smile. "He's in the tea house across the street right now! Would you like to meet him in a little while?"
"Can I?" Harry grew excited again.
He had not forgotten that His Highness Allen had just said Headmaster Dumbledore was the one who had told him about Harry's parents!
Before Allen could reply, he heard a knock on the window.
He looked up and saw a half-giant as tall as a single-story building bending down to look at them.
Instinctively, he drew Harry behind him and watched the newcomer warily.
Warmed by the gesture, Harry smiled and patted Allen's arm. "Your Highness, this is Hagrid, the one who brought me here!"
Allen looked over and, sure enough, saw him wave in a friendly fashion. Holding a snowy-white snowy owl, he beamed and said, "Harry, happy birthday!"
Before you continue