"Are those guys normal?" Harry asked cautiously.
"Great guys!" Richard assured him, while Scott and Steve snickered quietly. "Only one of them is a prince, but that's hardly a flaw worth paying attention to. I mean, we're wizards, after all—and somehow we manage to live with it."
"A prince?!" Harry's mouth formed a perfect O, his eyes widening to the size of large coins.
"Yeah, Prince William. Ever heard of him?"
"My God, who hasn't heard of Prince William?!" Harry exclaimed in astonishment. "Are you saying Prince William is going to Disneyland with us?"
"What, just because he's a prince he's not human and doesn't want to ride roller coasters?!"
"Well…" Harry Potter looked embarrassed. "He probably does. I definitely do. And how old is he?"
"He's a year younger than we are."
"Richie, and who's the second boy—some king, emperor, or the president's son?" Harry asked.
"Close. Justin's father is a banker and a lord—Baron Finch-Fletchley. But don't worry about that. Justin's a modest guy and easy to get along with. Not some spoiled rich kid. Better tell me—when did you manage to go shooting? And why didn't you invite me?"
"Uncle Scott invited only me to the range," Harry said with an embarrassed smile. "You're not offended, are you?"
"Why would I be?" Richie laughed cheerfully. "Harry, that was a joke! I don't invite you to family gatherings either, you know. So what spell did you learn?"
"Alohomora!" young Potter replied proudly. "With that charm, you can open a lock faster than with lockpicks."
"As if you know how to use lockpicks," Richard said with a teasing smirk.
"I do too!" Harry shot back. "Uncle Scott taught me."
"If Mr. Potter taught you, then I believe it. With his extensive detective experience, you pick up all sorts of skills. Sometimes it seems to me that he can do absolutely anything—just like Steve."
"Kid, you're exaggerating," Scott replied in a cheerful tone. "For example, I don't know how to fly a helicopter."
"And Steve?" Richard asked.
"A helicopter… yes, sir, I can," the driver replied. "I can fly airplanes too, and I have the proper licenses."
"Awesome!" Harry Potter exclaimed. "I wish I could fly a plane too."
"My charms tutor told me that wizards fly on brooms. On brooms, Harry! Isn't that insane?!"
"Really?!" Harry exclaimed in amazement.
"Seriously! I didn't believe it at first either, but in Diagon Alley I saw a shop selling brooms. It turned out they were flying ones. And then I had the idea to use the same enchantments on an airplane, so it could fly without fuel. To me — that's much safer and more comfortable."
"I can't even imagine what it's like to fly on a broom," Harry said. "By the way, when Uncle Scott and I went to Diagon Alley, I saw that broom shop too and wondered why a bunch of boys were glued to the window staring at cleaning equipment like it was supercars. Now I get it!"
"Harry, where did you learn the unlocking spell?"
"Uncle Scott bought textbooks for all the Hogwarts years at Flourish and Blotts and grabbed a bunch of extra books with different spells and potions. I've already brewed Wiggenweld Potion! It's an awesome potion—it heals wounds almost instantly. Too bad it didn't heal my scar."
"Impressive! You're already brewing potions. I don't have time for that."
"I think studying with a tutor sounds awesome. He probably shows you really cool spells, right?"
"No, Harry, you guessed wrong. First of all, it's not he, it's she—an old lady who's well over two hundred years old. Second, she shows me ordinary charms that are taught at Hogwarts. She just makes me practice each spell until I drop. I'm really completely wiped out after lessons. Only when I can cast the charm nonverbally does my tutor move on to the next one."
"Still, having a personal magic teacher is incredible."
"Connections, Harry. Connections solve a lot of things. If I didn't have a godfather like mine, I still wouldn't even know about the wizarding world."
"But you recognized me the first time we met!" young Potter said accusingly. "The way you talked…"
"Just a flash of insight. That happens to me sometimes. A cool MI6 specialist once called me a prophet in horror, but I think he was mistaken."
"A prophet?!" A silent question hung in Harry's eyes.
"Nephew, prophets are wizards who can see the future," Scott explained. "They don't always understand what they're saying. In fact, prophets don't always remember what they predicted. It's a phenomenon even by wizard standards."
"I hope you were wrong…" Harry Potter whispered quietly. "I really do. I don't want to save the world—I want to go to Disneyland…"
(End of Chapter)
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