"Almost. I'm cooler!" Stephen responded in a calmer voice.
"Wow!" Harry exclaimed excitedly. "Do you have a gun like Uncle Scott?"
"Of course," Steve replied.
"Harry, don't bother the man," Scott admonished his nephew.
"Sorry," Harry apologized, then turned his attention to his peer. "Richie, thanks for the invitation. I hardly go anywhere."
"Don't lie, kid!" Scott said, feigning indignation. "What about shooting range and fishing with me?"
"Um... That's not what I meant, Uncle Scott. It's just that back then it was you and me, and here it's Richie and me."
"It's just a routine trip to inspect a completed construction project," Richard remarked. "Of course, we'll have a barbecue, but we can think of something better. Harry, how would you like to fly to Disneyland in America in July?"
"Disneyland?" Harry's eyes lit up with delight.
"Yeah, Disneyland. Let's invite a good friend of mine, Justin Finch-Fletchley. Maybe Uncle Charlie will let Bill go with us. It'll be fun. Though then we'll have more security than we can fit on one bus."
"Are these guys normal?" Harry asked cautiously.
"Great guys!" Richard assured, to derisive chuckles from Scott and Steve. "Only one of them is a prince, but that's not a flaw worth paying attention to. We're wizards, after all. And we somehow live with it."
"A prince?!" Harry's mouth opened in an O, his eyes the size of large coins.
- Well, yes, Prince William. Have you heard of such a thing?
"Oh my God, who hasn't heard of Prince William?!" Harry exclaimed in amazement. "Are you telling me Prince William is going to Disneyland with us?"
- What if he's a prince, then he's not human and doesn't want to ride a roller coaster?!
"Well..." Harry Potter feigned embarrassment. "He probably does. I definitely do. How old is he?"
- He is a year younger than us.
"Richie, who is the second boy: the king, the emperor, the president's son?" Harry asked.
- Almost got it right. Justin's father is a banker and a Lord. Baron Finch-Fletchley. But don't worry about it. Justin is a modest guy and a real man. Not some rich kid. Better yet, tell me, when did you manage to shoot? And why didn't you invite me?
"Uncle Scott only invited me to the shooting range," Harry smiled sheepishly. "You're not offended?"
"Why would that be?" Richie laughed cheerfully. "Harry, that was a joke! You know, I don't invite you to family gatherings either. So, what's that spell you learned?"
"Alohomora!" young Potter replied proudly. "With this charm, you can open a lock faster than with lock picks."
"You'd think you knew how to use a lock pick," Richard grinned defiantly.
"Yes, I can!" Harry replied. "Uncle Scott taught me."
"If Mr. Potter taught me, then I believe him. With his extensive detective experience, you'd pick up all sorts of skills. Sometimes I think he can do everything, just like Steve."
"You're exaggerating, kid," Scott said cheerfully. "For example, I don't know how to fly a helicopter."
"What about Steve?" Richard asked.
"A helicopter... I know how, sir," the driver responded. "I know how to fly a plane too, and I have the necessary certification."
"Super!" Harry Potter exclaimed. "I wish I could fly a plane too."
"My Charms tutor told me that wizards fly on broomsticks. On broomsticks, Harry! That's madness!"
"Really?!" Harry exclaimed in amazement.
"Seriously! I didn't believe it myself at first, but I saw a shop in Diagon Alley selling brooms. It turned out they could fly. And then I had the idea to use the same charm on a plane, so it could fly without fuel. It's much safer and more comfortable, in my opinion."
"I can't even imagine flying on a broom," Harry said. "By the way, when Uncle and I went to Diagon Alley, I saw a broom shop too and was surprised to see all those boys staring at the window, looking at the cleaning equipment like it was a supercar. So that's what it is!"
- Harry, where did you learn the unlocking spell?
"Uncle Scott bought textbooks for all the Hogwarts classes at Flourish and Blotts and also picked up a bunch of books on spells and potions. I've already brewed Rowanberry Tea! It's amazing stuff-it heals wounds almost instantly. It's a shame it didn't help heal my scar."
- Wonderful! You're already brewing potions. And I don't have time for that.
- I think it's cool to have a tutor. He probably shows you some cool spells?
"No, Harry, you're wrong. Firstly, it's not a he, but an old woman, well over two hundred years old. Secondly, she's showing me the usual charms they teach at Hogwarts. She just makes me practice every spell until I drop. I'm literally a wreck after class. Only when I start to master the charms nonverbally does my teacher move on to a new one."
- Still, a personal magic teacher is incredible.
"Connections, Harry. Connections mean a lot. If I hadn't had a godfather like you, I still wouldn't have known about the wizarding world."
"But you recognized me when we met!" young Potter said accusingly. "The way you spoke..."
"Just a flash of insight. It happens to me sometimes. A tough guy from MI6 called me a prophet with horror, but I think he's wrong."
"A prophet?!" A silent question hung in Harry's eyes.
"Nephew, prophets are wizards who can see the future," Scott said. "They don't always understand what they're talking about. Moreover, prophets don't always remember what they predicted. That's a phenomenon even by wizard standards."
"I hope you're wrong," Harry Potter whispered softly. "I really hope so. I don't want to save the world-I want to go to Disneyland..."