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***
After a full day of contemplation, Richie gathered his resolve. He waited for his father to return from Chester and met him at the lobby exit.
- Good evening, father.
- Hello, Richie. Did something happen?
- Dad, we need to talk... out of earshot.
- If you must, let's go to my office.
Father and son made their way to Grosvenor Senior's office and sat in the guest chairs opposite each other.
Gerald, noticing his son's agitation, asked anxiously:
- Richie, what's wrong?
- Dad, I have to tell you something.....
- What?!
Richard took in a full chest of air, exhaled and said:
- Dad, I'm a wizard!
Gerald's reaction was not much different from how any other adequate adult would react to such a child's statement. He laughed good-naturedly.
Noticing that the child frowned, his father decided to calm him down:
- Son, you are certainly not a bad magician, but you are far from being a magician.
- And if I say that I don't know a single trick and all my tricks are performed with the help of superpowers?
- I wouldn't believe it," said Gerald good-naturedly. - Richie, don't confuse reality and fiction. Maybe I should take you to a child psychologist.
- Dad, I'm not crazy! - Richard was outraged. - I can prove it. Pick the object you feel the least sorry for.
Gerald decided to play along with the child. He picked up a heavy box of Cuban cigars from the corner of the table. He put the cigars on the table and put the box in front of his son.
- Dad, look at the box, or better yet, put your hand on it.
- Okay.
Gerald was in high spirits, expecting another trick performed by Richie.
The boy habitually tilted his emotions and said the word-activator:
- Abra-Cadabra, disappear!
Richard had learnt to use activator words after a number of experiments. With them, the use of magic was much easier. Abra-Kadabra became a universal key-word, helping to get the right emotional mood. And next came the order that the supernatural ability must fulfil.
The casket disappeared and Gerald's palm, having lost its footing, hit the tabletop with a slam.
Grosvenor Senior was amazed and delighted.
- Richie, that's an incredible trick! - he said cheerfully. - You're turning into a real illusionist. Well done. Will you share the secret of the trick with your father?
- No tricks," mumbled a frowning Richard. - Dad, it's magic! I actually made the box disappear!
- Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! - Gerald burst out laughing. - Yes, it's a great trick, but I don't believe in magic.
- Dad, magicians do exist! - Richard said with firm conviction. - It's a fact. They hide from ordinary people, live in reservations. They even have their own currency and a secret autonomous ministry. When a child with the gift of magic turns eleven, representatives of the local school of magic and wizardry come to him. A young mage must attend this boarding school for a minimum of five years.- Richie, you have a great imagination," Gerald grinned, naturally not believing the child's words. - One could not expect anything else from such a genius.
Richie massaged his temples with his fingers and began to take deep breaths, counting to ten. When he calmed down a little, he looked at his father carefully and said in a sad tone:
- Eh... I didn't think it would be so hard. Dad, as far as I have learnt, the leaders of the state must know about the existence of wizards. If you don't believe me, ask Uncle Charlie. I reckon he must know about the Ministry of Magic.
- Ha-ha-ha-ha! - a broad smile was on Gerald's lips. - I'll be sure to tell Charlie about the wizards who live on reservations that are off-limits to ordinary people. He'll laugh.
- And I also think," Richard continued after a heavy sigh, "that my mother was really a wizard, not a spy for a foreign country. And she didn't use chemistry on you, but love potions.
Gerald laughed so loudly that he folded himself in half, grabbing his stomach with his hands.
- Oh! Son, I think your mother is a witch, too, but I didn't think you were of the same opinion! - The duke said ironically, after he had laughed himself off.
- I knew it wouldn't be easy... but not this hard!!!!!
Mr Grosvenor only laughed again.
Richard decided to prove the existence of magic to his father with a greater impact, the more he was feeling genuine emotions, a cocktail of different feelings. On impulse he exclaimed:
- Abra-Kadabra, damn table, fly!
The heavy solid mahogany table soared to a height of one and a half metres. It hung like that for a couple of seconds and crashed to the floor with a terrible crash. The walls shook from the fall, and the chairs bounced slightly. Cigars and writing utensils flew off the table.
Richie leaned back in his chair tiredly and brushed the sweat off his forehead.
- 'Well, Dad, do you believe me now?!
Mr Grosvenor was impressed. Very impressed.
- Not a word, Richie," he said with amazement and a touch of admiration. - It was an incredible trick! It must have taken you a long time to pull it off, huh?
Richard groaned and covered his eyes. He felt hopeless and wanted to cry out.
- Oh, my God!" the boy exclaimed. - Daddy, you're indestructible!
- I am!" said Gerald proudly. - For me to believe that these tricks are really magic, something really incredible has to happen. But you tried, son. I realise you were trying to play a trick on me. But in consolation, you almost succeeded.
- It's magic! MAGIC! - Richard exclaimed. Then he realised from Gerald's mocking smile that it was useless to prove anything. He waved his hand and said tiredly:- "And who am I trying to prove it to?! Okay... Dad, do you remember when the house shook last winter?
- Sure, Richie.
- It wasn't an underground explosion. I had a magical outburst.
- Nice try.
A broad smile remained on Mr Grosvenor's face, and he answered with a note of comfort.
Richard despaired of proving his father right. He rose slowly from his chair and walked tiredly out of the study. Before the door, the boy turned round and said:
- Dad, when you talk to Uncle Charlie, don't say I didn't warn you.
At that moment the door suddenly swung open. Richard barely had time to jump aside, missing the dangerous wooden "projectile" by a couple of centimetres.
A panting valet, John, burst into the study. Behind him in the corridor loomed Stephen - the driver and bodyguard. John looked round the room in a daze and found a small mess. Pens, pencils and cigars were lying on the floor. Drawers were pulled out by the desk.
- Sir, I'm sorry to barge in," he began, "but what's happened? We heard a terrible crash.
- Ho-ho, John!" Mr Grosvenor waved his right hand carelessly at the servant. - It was only Richie doing a bad trick. The equipment couldn't take the strain.
The father winked at his son, who rolled his eyes tiredly towards the ceiling, after which Mr Grosvenor added:
- 'Richie, next time use stronger fishing line. Or better still, experiment on other furniture. This table is an eighteenth-century rarity.
Richard wanted to swear like a grown-up, but what was allowed to a common man was not allowed to an aristocrat. He had already had a few swear words come out of his mouth, for which he had been whipped, not painfully, but rather humiliatingly.
- I'm off," Richard said, and then left the office.
***
The royal fundraiser was the following Sunday. Richard went with his father, just as he had last time.
This time the elder and younger Grosvenors arrived an hour early. There were very few people in the palace's sumptuous ballroom.
The elder Grosvenor began to look for his friend, while his son did not take a step away from him. When Prince Charles was discovered, Gerald went towards him and good-naturedly said:
- Charlie, hello!
- Oh, Gee! Good to see you," the elderly prince greeted his friend with a broad smile. - Hello, Richie.
- Hello, Uncle Charlie.
- How was your trip? - the prince asked.
- Thank you, Charlie, the road was surprisingly free today. We even got there much faster," Gerald replied. - Do you want a joke?
- A new joke? - Prince Charles cheered. - You know I love that sort of thing.
- Ritchie has recently taken up a new hobby - magic tricks. And last Sunday he claimed to be a magician," the elder Grosvenor said in a mocking tone. - But that's not all. He had prepared a trick to prove it by lifting my desk into the air, but he dropped it from a great height. If the desk wasn't so sturdy, it would have fallen apart from that.
- Amazing," the prince wasn't amused, he was scrutinising his godson. - Richie, will you show us this trick?
- It's not a trick, Uncle Charlie. I got so angry that my father didn't believe me that I used a directed magic discharge. At least you can tell him I'm actually a magician.
- Yeah," Gerald grinned good-naturedly. - That's what he told me. And, Charlie, think of it this way, Richie has come up with a script for a fantasy story. Like there are wizards living on hidden reservations near us, with a school of magic and a secret ministry. And when he turns eleven, he'll be taken to a school of magic and wizardry.
Instead of the expected laughter from Prince Charles, who was dead serious, there was a question:
- Richie, how did you know that?
- I just found out, Uncle Charlie," Richard shrugged. Not knowing how to present this information, he decided to play the fool. - The knowledge appeared in my head, and I was well aware that I could see the future as it was supposed to unfold.
- Richie, how often can you predict the future? - Prince Charles asked curiously.
- It happened to me only once a little over a year ago after a strong magical outburst, but I didn't realise that I was a wizard. And when I realised that I had superpowers, I couldn't believe it for a long time. At first I thought I was a mutant, like in the X-Men comics, but then I suddenly realised I was a wizard.
- Okay, Charlie, don't play along with the kid! - Gerald said.
- 'Actually, G, your son is right,' said Prince Charles. - I was just surprised that he knows about the magical world before he's even met his Hogwarts teacher.
- Hogwarts? - Gerald raised his eyebrows questioningly.
- It's the name of the school of magic and wizardry in Britain, Scotland and Ireland," the prince explained.
- Oh, Charlie," the elder Grosvenor rolled his eyes at the ceiling with the look of a man who was tired of a joke. - Please! It's not funny any more.
- Gerald, have you ever seen me make a joke? - Keeping a serious face, the prince asked. - It's true. Wizards have been hiding from ordinary people since the Inquisition. They have their own schools. If a child has the gift of a wizard, he must attend a school of magic and sorcery to learn how to control his gift. Few people know about the existence of wizards: me, the Queen, the Prime Minister, heads of secret services and some special agents. And also parents and close relatives of magicians who were born in ordinary families. Or ordinary people who were born to wizards.
- Are you and Richie in cahoots? - Grosvenor Senior asked.
- Gerald, don't you believe me? - Prince Charles asked in a serious tone. - After so many years of friendship...
From the tone of his friend Gerald realised that Charles was not joking. But in the duke's mind he could not imagine that magic could exist in reality.
- Charlie, are you serious? - Gerald's eyebrows rose even higher in astonishment.
- I'm dead serious, G.
- But that sounds like complete nonsense! - The elder Grosvenor looked dumbfounded.
- Nevertheless, G, it is true. Mages do exist. They actually live on reservations, though not all of them. Some of them live alongside ordinary people. And a few of them are even aristocrats. In the past, wizards in general often tried to breed with the aristocracy, because of which many lords knew about Hogwarts.
- So Richie is actually a wizard? - Gerald looked at his son in surprise.
- Perhaps," Prince Charles shrugged uncertainly. - We'll know for sure in the summer of that year, when Richie turns eleven.
- Uncle Charlie, Dad," Richard entered the dialogue between the men, "you don't have to doubt that I'm really a wizard. So I would like to learn as much as possible about the world of magicians. The best thing is to find a tutor among them. Is such a thing possible?
- Hm... - the prince thought. - I suppose we can think of something. We've got contacts with high-ranking wizards.
- Wait, Charlie," said Gerald, "doesn't the Ministry of Magic mean that it is subject to the orders of higher authorities?- Actually, the Ministry of Magic is completely autonomous. Wizards choose their own Minister of Magic. The main point of this organisation is to hide the existence of wizards from ordinary people.
- But why? - Gerald wondered.
- Fear, - answered Prince Charles calmly. - Wizards were so badly frightened by the Inquisition that they still can't get over it. And it is to our advantage that the magicians waste their strength on controlling each other.
- So, Charlie," Grosvenor Senior continued, "you tolerate an uncontrolled community under your nose?
- We do," Prince Charles nodded. - In fact, firstly, we have leverage over the mages. Secondly, we benefit from the fact that the mages think they are free and in control of the situation. As long as they don't mess with the common people or try to take over, we don't care. Likewise, we don't care who rules the wizards.
Richard recalled that in the TV series, an evil wizard was trying to either destroy the world or take over the government. Since he didn't have the memory then as he does now, the fallen man was confused. He decided to intervene in the dialogue and clarify some nuances:
- Wait, Uncle Charlie, what if some maniac comes to power in the Ministry of Magic and commits genocide?
- Richie, I'm sorry to be blunt, but we don't care what happens in the magicians' place as long as it doesn't affect regular people. Even if wizards kill each other, it's just easier for us. But if a maniac wizard comes to power and starts genocide of ordinary people, we have a solution for that. A few missile bombardments on wizard settlements will solve this problem radically.
- I see," Richard said. - What about magical terrorists?
- The same as ordinary terrorists, - answered Prince Charles. - Richie, terrorists were, are and will be. Special services fight with ordinary ones, and magicians are opposed by magical analogue of special forces, controlled by the Ministry of Magic. The magicians even have their own prison for criminals. In the late seventies, there was a terrorist group of wizards in Britain. For a while, they got too loose and started carrying out terrorist attacks on us. As a result, we threatened the wizards that if they did not solve this problem, we would take care of it and would not sort out who was good and who was bad. Six months later, that terrorist group was gone.
- Still, Charlie, I can't believe that we have people with superpowers living right next door to us," Gerald said.
Prince Charles replied:
- At first I couldn't believe it either, I thought it was a joke. But... Once in a while the royal family and high ranking people can be treated in a magical clinic where healers work miracles. Why do you think Mum lived to her age and has such excellent health? I've been to a magical hospital once myself, so I feel young.
- Hey! - Gerald was indignant. - This is where we should have started! Now, Charlie, we need to talk....
Grosvenor Senior put his arm round his friend and led him away.
- Son, stay here," he said. - So, Charlie, how much would it cost to fix the body of a charming duke? Do they have an elixir of youth or an analogue? А...
Richard could hear nothing more. Realising that his father's conviction in the reality of magic and the world of wizards was over, the boy headed out of the hall in search of Prince William, or, for him, just Bill.
***
A couple of days after the charity reception, Gerald went into the wizarding hospital for four days. He returned home slightly rejuvenated and full of vigour. He looked like he had lost fifteen or twenty years, his wrinkles had smoothed out a bit, the skin on his chin had tightened and the extra kilos had gone. It was as if Mr Grosvenor had undergone expensive plastic surgery.
Gerald was home in time for dinner. After the meal, he called his son into the living room, where father and son traditionally sat in armchairs by the fireplace.
- Richie, now I'm absolutely sure of the existence of wizards. Ho-ho! - Gerald grinned good-naturedly. - It's hard not to believe in such a thing, having got rid of chronic illnesses and slightly younger in four days. However, I must say that all wizards are strange.
- I'm sure they are. Dad, you really do look a lot better. But... I confess, I was afraid you'd treat me worse after you found out I was a wizard.
- What nonsense!" Lord Grosvenor snorted indignantly. - Richie, you are my son. I love you regardless of your abilities. So what if you're a mage? It's the same to me as a magician, or if you had other talents, like playing the violin.
- Thank you," Richard murmured quietly, feeling relieved in his heart.
- By the way, son, Charlie contacted me today. He said he found you a wizard tutor.
- Did he say how it happened? - Richard asked curiously.
- Charlie said a lot of things, as usual," Mr Grosvenor shrugged. - If you're curious, Charlie contacted the Minister of Magic through his channels and asked her for a wizarding tutor for a member of the royal family. The Minister of Magic was shocked and immediately agreed. And she refused payment, saying that the tutor would be provided at the expense of the Ministry of Magic's coffers. So, Richie, get ready - tomorrow Charlie is coming to visit us in the company of magicians.
- I'm looking forward to it.
The rest of the day stretched like rubber. Richard was anxious to meet the real wizard.
In the morning, after aerobics, Richard showered and dressed up in a brand new suit. He doused his hair with gel and slicked it back. He looked like a model aristocratic child, the very epitome of elegance. His back was straight, his shoulders squared, only his eyes gave away his excitement.
About an hour after breakfast the doorbell rang, and a maid ushered the guests into the drawing room, where the two Grosvenors were seated.
Of the three guests only one was familiar to Richard - Prince Charles. He was accompanied by two ladies.
On the right hand of the prince with an important look smoothly walked a woman of about forty years old or a little older, but Richard was not deceived by her appearance, because, as he had learnt, magicians have means for rejuvenation. Wizards, of course, had plenty of means to make people look younger.
The woman with grey-blue eyes looked at the interior with curiosity and vividness and ran her eyes over both Grosvenors. Her red hair was gathered into an austere bundle. One cannot say that the guest is a beauty, judging by her face. Not ugly, even quite pretty. However, if her nose were narrower and her lips thinner, it would definitely be in her favour. She was dressed in a strict and elegant suit. But even in such simple clothes, the lady managed to look lecherous, attracting male gazes. The reason for this bust, outstanding as much as five sizes, thin waist and straight posture, which makes the lady look more shapely.
On the left hand of the heir to the throne was an elderly lady. This tiny stooped old lady with a wrinkled face as if covered in cobwebs had a lively look in her faded grey eyes. Her grey hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was dressed in an old-fashioned closed dress of a dark green colour.
Prince Charles spoke:
- Ladies, let me introduce to you-Lord Gerald Grosvenor, Duke of Westminster; and my godson, Earl Richard Grosvenor. He's the one I was telling you about. Richie, Gerald - this fine lady," he pointed to a lushly shaped woman, "is Millicenta Bagnold, Minister of Magic. And this fine lady," he pointed to an old woman, "is Griselda Marchbanks, an elder of the Wizengamot, the court of wizards. She's volunteered to tutor Richard.
Gerald bowed to the ladies with dignity. Richard repeated the bow after his father.
Mrs Bagnold smiled dazzlingly and said politely:
- 'Pleased to meet you, gentlemen. It is an honour to do a favour for the Duke and his heir.
- Not at all, lady," replied Grosvenor Senior in the same polite tone. - It is an honour to have such guests in our home. Please, there is no truth in the legs," he pointed with his palm at the sofas opposite each other.
The old woman eyed Richard curiously. Quite loudly she said:
- 'Pretty boy. Is it you that I am going to teach magic to?
- Yes, madam," Richard replied. - Forgive me for an indiscreet question, may I ask how old are you?
- The question is really immodest, - answered the old woman too loudly. Apparently, she had trouble hearing. - I taught spells at Hogwarts two hundred years ago, so you have a very experienced tutor, Richard. I hope you don't let my expectations down and turn out to be as talented as Millicent described you.
- I will try, madam," Richard replied, impressed by the older lady's age. - Let me help you.
Richie gave the old lady an elbow, which she took politely without refusing to help. Judging by the look Madame Marchbanks gave the boy, he had just earned a few points in her eyes.
Soon the wizards were seated on the couch that stood closer to the stairs, and Richie, Charles, and Gerald sat across from them. A mahogany coffee table separated the wizards and the aristocrats from each other. Richard found himself squeezed in on both sides by the adults.
Just then, a maid with a tray entered the drawing room. The young girl moved silently. She deftly placed five cups and saucers, silver teaspoons, an empty porcelain teapot with hot Earl Grey, a sugar bowl and a milk pot on the coffee table. Vases of jam, wafers, sweets and biscuits were also placed there.
The maid left the room as quickly and silently as she had come.
- Original," Madame Marchbanks marvelled rather loudly. - The last time I'd seen a Muggle maid was about seventy years ago. Certainly the maids are more interesting to look at than the housekeepers.
- Housekeepers? - Grosvenor Senior asked politely.- Magical servants," the Minister of Magic explained. - In anticipation of your second question, Muggles... hmm... that's what many wizards call ordinary people.
- That's what I thought," Gerald said, as if thinking out loud. - It's a classic problem of small closed communities. They just need to come up with an excuse for living on a reservation, cut off from the big world. To do this, gated tribes come up with an ideology that says they are better than everyone else. They give everyone else contemptuous nicknames. Muggle, I presume, is a derivative of mugle?
The lady minister showed no sign of being slightly hurt by the duke's words. Being a good actress, she smiled sweetly and said admiringly:
- Gerald, you are quite right. Unfortunately, most wizards consider ordinary people as dirt. I have been trying to fight this for the tenth year as Minister. I'm trying to eradicate the belittling of magical minorities and the contemptuous attitude towards ordinary people. It's a shame, but I've had little success. The contempt of pureblood mages for people who don't have the gift of wizardry runs too deep. Imagine, many pureblood families abandon their children who are not found to have the gift of magic - they are called "squibs". And some even go so far as to erase the memory of such children.
- A nightmare! - Prince Charles was horrified.
Gerald frowned and played with his jowls, then said:
- Mrs Bagnold, I understand correctly - wizarding society is divided into castes. Purebloods and...
- In addition to purebloods, they distinguish half-bloods - those who have one of their parents was a wizard. And then there's a third category - muggleborns.....
The Minister threw Richard an eloquent glance. Gerald followed that gaze. He put the puzzle together in his head and realised that a son with muggle-born status in wizarding society would be considered something like a Negro in the time of colonial conquests.
- 'Mrs Bagnold,' said the Duke, 'if you mean Richie, he's not a muggleborn. His mother is a wizard.
- Oh, yes! - rejoiced Madam Minister. - That's wonderful! Where is she now?! Oh, I'm sorry... - she was embarrassed, thinking that she had asked a tactless question.
- It's all right, Mrs Bagnold," Gerald replied. - Four years ago it turned out that my wife had drugged me with love potions. That's when we separated.
- I see," said the minister, not surprised in the least. - It happens often.
While the Minister of Magic and the Duke were chatting, the old woman was quietly sipping her tea, ignoring everyone. She covered her eyes in pleasure and tasted different sweets with delight.
- It's a lovely tea," said Marchbanks. - And the sweets are wonderful. Boy," she said to Richard, "what can you do now?
- I suppose, Madame Marchbanks, you are interested in my magic skills?
- 'Yes, yes,' Madame Marchbanks nodded a couple of times.
- Here, for example...
Richie demonstrated snatching a coin out of the air and tossed it upwards, where it disappeared. Then the boy moved Prince Charles' watch into his hands, demonstrated it to everyone around him and returned it to its place in the same way.
The two sorceresses watched Richard's manipulations with curiosity.
For the next trick the young magician needed more emotion and concentration. To do so, he uttered the activator key:
- Abra-Kadabra... Cup, fly.
Both sorceresses twitched as if from a slap. Both ladies almost instantly had small wooden pointers in their hands and found themselves pointed at the boy.
Richard, who at that moment had levitated his cup into the air, was startled by the sudden movements of the ladies and lost concentration. Because of this, the cup collapsed on the saucer, and there was a clinking sound of breaking porcelain.
- What was that, young man?! - Mrs Bagnold asked in a stern tone. - Why are you frightening us?
- I'm sorry," Richard said, bewildered. - I didn't expect you to be frightened by trivial levitation.
- Levitation?! - grunted the old woman. - Merlin Almighty! By means of an unforgivable spell?
- Hmmm... - Madam Minister pressed her lips together sternly. - Young man, what were those words you were saying?
- Madam, I made up those words to facilitate the activation of superpowers. Abra-Kadabra...
The sorceresses shuddered again. Richard raised his eyebrows in surprise and continued:
- It seemed like common words used by illusionist magicians.
The sorceresses hid their pointers.
- Hmmm... - the Minister of Magic stretched out. - Young man, try not to use those words anymore. It's just that wizards have a spell with a similar activator. It is a deadly forbidden spell, an unforgivable one, the use of which will be punished.
The old woman grinned and said in a cheerful tone loudly:
- The boy is good! Did he think of it himself?
- Yes, ma'am," Richard nodded.
- Millie, think about it - at that age, he learnt to use magical discharges in the form of wandless spells. Levitation and summoning things. My girlfriend's grandson of the same age just recently had his first magical discharge. Definitely, I'm taking such a talent as an apprentice. - Looking at the boy intently, she added:- You will come to my house early on Saturday and Sunday mornings.
- Erm... Madame Marchbanks," Richard began, "where do you live? Is it far away?
- Don't worry about that," the old sorceress said as if nothing had happened. - 'Richie, I'll make you a two-way portal from your house to mine.