"Did you and Richie plan this together or something?" Grosvenor Sr. asked.
"Gerald, do you really not trust me?" Prince Charles asked in a serious tone. "After all these years of friendship…"
From his friend's voice, Gerald understood that Charles wasn't joking. And yet the very idea that magic could exist in reality simply refused to fit inside the duke's head.
"Charlie… are you serious?" Gerald's eyebrows climbed even higher in sheer disbelief.
"I'm completely serious, G."
"But that sounds like utter nonsense!" Grosvenor Sr. looked genuinely stunned.
"And yet, G, it's true. Wizards exist. They really do live in reservations—though not all of them. Some live alongside ordinary people. And a select few are even aristocrats. In the past, magical families quite often tried to intermarry with the nobility, which is why many lords knew about Hogwarts."
"So… does that mean Richie is actually a wizard?" Gerald studied his son with astonishment.
"Possibly," Prince Charles said with a hesitant shrug. "That will be known for certain in the summer of the year Richie turns eleven."
"Uncle Charlie, Dad," Richard joined the conversation, "don't doubt it—I really am a wizard. That's why I'd like to learn as much as possible about the magical world. Ideally, I'd like to find a tutor among them. Is that possible?"
"Hm…" the prince thought for a moment. "I suppose we could arrange something. We do have connections to some very high-ranking wizards."
"Wait, Charlie," Gerald said. "Doesn't the existence of a Ministry of Magic mean it's subordinate to higher authorities?"
"In fact, the Ministry of Magic is fully autonomous. Wizards elect their own Minister of Magic. The main purpose of that organization is to conceal the existence of magic from ordinary people."
"But why?" Gerald asked, surprised.
"Fear," Prince Charles replied calmly. "The Inquisition frightened them so badly that they still haven't recovered. And it benefits us if wizards spend their energy policing each other."
"So what—you're just tolerating an uncontrolled community right under your nose?" Grosvenor Sr. continued.
"We are," Prince Charles nodded. "Actually, first of all, we do have leverage over the wizards. Second, it suits us that they believe they're free and in control. As long as they don't meddle with ordinary people or try to seize power, we don't care. Likewise, we don't care who rules over the magical world."
Richard recalled that in the series a dark wizard had either tried to destroy the world or seize power—he couldn't quite remember which. Back then he hadn't had the kind of memory he did now, so the transmigrator was a bit muddled. He decided to intervene and clarify a few details.
"Wait, Uncle Charlie—what if some maniac comes to power in the Ministry of Magic and starts a genocide?"
"Richie, forgive my bluntness, but we don't care what happens among the wizards as long as it doesn't affect ordinary people. Even if they slaughter each other, that only makes things easier for us. But if a mad wizard takes power and starts committing genocide against non-magical people, we have a solution for that. A few missile strikes on wizard settlements would resolve the problem in a very definitive way."
"I see," Richard said. "And what about magical terrorists?"
"The same way we deal with ordinary terrorists," Prince Charles replied. "Richie, terrorists have existed, exist, and will continue to exist. Regular ones are handled by the intelligence services. Magical terrorists are opposed by a magical equivalent of special forces, which answers to the Ministry of Magic. Wizards even have their own prison for criminals. In the late seventies, Britain had a wizard terrorist group. For a while they went completely out of control and started carrying out attacks on our soil. In the end, we warned the wizards that if they didn't solve the problem themselves, we would—and we wouldn't bother sorting out who was good and who was bad. Within half a year, that terrorist group ceased to exist."
"And still, Charlie, I just can't believe that people with superhuman abilities are living right next to us," Gerald said.
Prince Charles replied evenly:
"At first, I couldn't believe it either. I thought it was a joke. But… on rare occasions, members of the royal family and other high-ranking individuals can receive treatment at a magical clinic, where healers work miracles. How do you think Mother lived to her age and remains in such excellent health? I myself was treated in a wizard hospital once, and that's why I feel young."
"Hey!" Gerald protested. "That's what you should've started with! All right, Charlie, we need to talk…"
Grosvenor Sr. slung an arm around his friend and led him off to the side.
"Son, stay here for a bit," he said. "So, Charlie—how much would it cost to patch up the body of one charming duke? Do they have an elixir of youth, or something similar? And—"
Richard couldn't hear anything after that. Realizing that convincing his father of the reality of magic and the wizarding world was now complete, the boy headed for the exit of the hall in search of Prince William—or, to him, simply Bill.
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
🥳Joining P@treon keeps me motivated and eager to work diligently, so please consider joining.🥰