When a very excited Harry finally landed in the Burrow's fireplace (Professor Dumbledore had decided to let him use Floo Powder instead), he wasted no time at all in telling the Weasleys about Dumbledore's invitation. He did not tell anyone about what happened at the trial, as all who attended it were forbidden to tell anyone anything. Ron and Hermione were extremely happy, but the twins were furious at not being invited.
"Why can't we go?" demanded Fred. "We'd like to see Hidrea too!"
"Yeah," added a sulky George. "Why don't you ask Dumbledore whether we can go too, Harry?"
"Of course I will," said Harry. "I'm sorry, I totally forgot about you two."
"Never mind," replied George. "Yeah, we're forgotten now, but when Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes starts up, we'll be the talk of town!" said Fred. Harry and the others laughed, but Fred's face was serious.
"Anyway," said Mr. Weasley, "of course we'll let you go, as long as Professor Dumbledore comes along, you're in safe hands. When is the trip?"
"I don't know," said Harry. "Professor Dumbledore said it'll be some time this week, and he'll send us an owl to notify us."
"Then he'd better hurry," said Ron. "Two weeks isn't very long for a holiday."
"Ron! That's plenty of time!" said Hermione. "I can't wait to go! Maybe I'll find some interesting stuff I can squeeze in my History of Magic essay – I just hope Professor Binns won't mind, it's already twenty inches too long-"
Everybody except Mr. and Mrs. Weasley groaned. "Give us a break, Hermione!" said Ron. "It's the holidays."
"Holidays should be a time for all of us to revise our past year's work and prepare for the next year," replied Hermione.
"Enough!" cried Fred. "Harry, why don't you send an owl to Dumbledore now? You can tell him we want to go too."
"Sure-" But there was no need for that. A big tawny owl swooped into the room through an open window and dropped a note onto Harry's lap. Harry saw that the notepaper had the Hogwarts crest on it.
"It's from Dumbledore. Go on, read it!" said George excitedly.
Harry cleared his throat and read:
Harry,
We'll start for Hidrea two days from now, as soon as I sort out some paperwork here at Hogwarts. I've decided that it will be fun for the twins to come too ("Hurrah!" exclaimed Fred) so you may ask them to come along. And I think it would be better if we ride broomsticks to reach Hidrea. We will be able to see other countries that way, and so the trip will be more memorable.
In Hidrea our guide will be Mr. Boris Krum, whose son is Viktor Krum, whom you met last year. He knows the country very well, as he still visits the land sometimes – business from the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic. He is more than happy to show all of you the sights of Hidrea. He knows our secret – we can trust him. And tell Arthur and Molly not to worry – Hidrea is quite safe since Voldemort ("Must he say that name?" shuddered Mrs. Weasley) was defeated.
For this trip I recommend you bring some spare wizard robes and Muggle clothes too. Also your toothbrushes, toothpaste, and all those things. And don't forget to bring your telescopes, cameras and notebooks. There are many interesting sights in Hidrea which I am sure you will not want to miss.
I will come to the Burrow in the morning with broomsticks for Hermione, Ron and the twins. Take care!
Professor Albus Dumbledore.
"Well, that settles it," said Ron. "I wonder why he wants us to bring telescopes?"
"I've read that Hidrea has tall mountains where it's perfect for stargazing," said Hermione. "You can see many constellations from there."
"Can you ride a broomstick properly now?" asked Harry. The twins laughed. Flying on broomsticks was the one thing Hermione simply could not do.
"Of course I can," said Hermione rather indignantly.
"Yeah, with my help," groaned Ron. Through Ron's patience and perseverance, Hermione had finally learned to fly properly. It had cost Ron a lot though – his battered broomstick was even more beat-up than before, because of Hermione's constant tendency to fly right into trees.
"Well I'm glad the Professor will bring broomsticks for all of you," said Mr. Weasley. "Your broomsticks will take you nowhere!" he joked, but at the same time his ears turned rather red.
"Maybe he'll bring Firebolts!" said Fred hopefully.
"Nah, I think he'll bring the school's new brooms," said Ron. "They recently bought second-hand Nimbus Two Thousand brooms. They're still in good condition, real good brooms, the Nimbus."
"But it's nothing compared to the Firebolt," said George. "You're so lucky to have one, Harry."
"The Nimbus series is good too," replied Harry. "I played many Quidditch matches on my old Nimbus Two Thousand."
"Yeah, the Nimbus is much better than the Comet series. But have you seen the latest Firebolt? It's called the Firebolt Advance," said Ron.
"I head that it has an AutoPilot feature which will fly you to a pre-set destination without needing anybody to steer it," answered Fred. "That's really cool, but it'll take the fun out of flying."
"In a way, yes," said Harry. "The thrill of really flying isn't there."
"Though I expect Hermione would love a broom like that," teased Ron. "Honestly you have no sense of direction. How you are going to make it to Hidrea without banging into a Muggle airplane I don't know."
"Shut up," snapped Hermione, her nose buried in Flying: A Guide for Hopeless Newbies.
Two days later, Harry, Hermione, Ron and the twins were all packed and ready to go. Soon enough, Professor Dumbledore Apparated in the Burrow's living room, bringing four brooms with him. He beamed at them.
"All ready I see? Good, good. Here are your brooms – the school just got them, second-hand Nimbus Two Thousands – they're still in good condition. Now, we will be passing through quite a few countries and we will make a few stops as well. I know those countries pretty well, and I have a number of wizard friends who will be glad to show us around. Now, I presume you have brought provisions for our journey?"
Ron laughed and nodded towards a huge bag, which was stuffed full with food and tidbits, courtesy of Mrs. Weasley. Dumbledore chuckled and said, "Very good. Now, let me load your belongings onto your brooms." He waved his wand and magicked all the bags and packages onto the brooms, then tied them with rope that he conjured up out of nowhere.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came into the room. "Well, have a good trip, all of you," said Mr. Weasley.
"And be careful!" added Mrs. Weasley. "Make sure you don't lose your things and do you have your passports?"
"Yes, all of us," replied Ron. A few days ago, Harry and Hermione had been taken to the Ministry of Magic to make their wizard passports. Harry liked his new passport, because it had a map of the world on it that squeaked out the country's name whenever you touch it. For a while the Burrow had been full of squeaking noises ("Luxembourg! Germany! Spain!") until Mrs. Weasley told them to stop it.
"That's settled then. Come, let's go outside to takeoff," said Professor Dumbledore. They followed Dumbledore outside of the Burrow, where they prepared to takeoff. As Harry kicked off the ground, he felt that rush of adrenaline he always felt when he flew. He soared around in the air, while Ron and the twins tried to help Hermione, who was having some problems with her broom.
"Her-mi-one, what – did – you do to – your broom?" said Ron through clenched teeth, trying to prevent Hermione from falling off her broom, which was jerking around endlessly.
"You've got to sit properly, Miss Granger," said Professor Dumbledore. He pointed his wand at Hermione's broom and immediately it steadied itself. Hermione gave a sigh of relief.
"All ready? Let's go then, follow me," said Dumbledore.With that they soared higher and higher, until the Burrow was but a speck on the ground. They flew over the countryside and soon came to the big towns.
"We're in the south of England now," said Professor Dumbledore, squinting downwards. From up there they could see the blue sea approaching. "I've decided to go through France, then we fly through Luxembourg to go to Germany, which is near Hidrea. Madame Maxime will meet us in Paris – she knows the truth, but her students don't - but we'll have to travel through Luxembourg ourselves. Mr. Krum will meet us in Berlin. Now, how about we stop at Dover before we cross over the Dover Straits?"
Harry, Ron and the twins were quite lost in the geographical lecture and made no reply. But Hermione immediately answered, "Sure Professor, we've been flying for quite awhile now. But Professor – it's the holidays! How can Madame Maxime meet us?"
"Well, even if the school was closed Madame Maxime would still be able to meet us," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "But we are actually going to the Palace of Beauxbatons itself. You see, Beauxbatons is not Hogwarts, and it is not in England. Their school term starts earlier than ours."
"I see," replied Ron quickly, before Hermione could say anymore. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of school again.
Professor Dumbledore directed them to a lone hill to land. He conjured up a picnic table and they began to feast on Mrs. Weasley's excellent sandwiches. "Thank goodness mine's not corned beef," said Ron.
"What's wrong with corned beef? I like it," said Hermione, her mouth full of corned beef.
"Never mind, never mind," said Ron quickly. He didn't feel like arguing with Hermione now – he was too busy watching the ships in the harbour.
"That's cool, I didn't know Muggles had ships," he said.
"Muggles have some of the best ships – but they're not as good as ours," said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye. "But since they don't use magic, I should say their ships are excellent in the sense that they can perform well without magic."
"Why don't we take a ship to France then?" George asked eagerly. "I've never even been on a ship before."
"Not even a wizard ship?" Dumbledore asked. George shook his head. "Well, maybe we can on our way back, but we can't now, because it would take too long – if we travel by ship we would have to stop by Calais and that would take too long. I counted on reaching Paris by this evening. We're scheduled to dine at Beauxbatons tonight."
"Calais?" asked Ron dazedly. "Where's that?"
"It's in France, Ron," Hermione said, looking up from her book, which was entitled A Wizard Tourist's Guide to the World. "Calais is an important seaport in France – lots of ships go there daily."
"Hermione's right, Ron," said Dumbledore. "Maybe I should start a new subject at Hogwarts – Wizard Geography."
"That would be great!" Hermione exclaimed happily. Harry, who had been listening to their conversation, groaned inwardly. Trust Hermione to come up with something like that, he thought. But actually it'll be fun – every single subject's fun – except Potions and History of Magic of course! And Divination, he thought.
"Anyway, we'd better make a move now," said Professor Dumbledore, standing up and mysteriously making the picnic table vanish, the plates and cups dropping to the ground, but then an invisible hand caught them and placed them gently onto the grass. Harry, the Weasleys and Hermione immediately began putting them back into the bags. Once they had finished, they mounted their brooms for Paris.
"Good to see you, Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxime said as the six of them landed in a secluded alley in Paris.
"It's a pleasure," said Dumbledore. Somehow Madame Maxime seemed to have grown even taller, now Dumbledore had to tiptoe to kiss her hand.
"And are zese your students?" Madame Maxime said, surveying them all. Harry shrank back a little; he had forgotten how tall Madame Maxime really was.
"Yes, all of them," replied Dumbledore.
"Good, good," said Madame Maxime. "My students will give you a warm welcome, they are eager to zee all of you. Come with me."
Madame Maxime led them to a gigantic carriage drawn by huge winged horses. Harry was surprised that he didn't see it before. Hermione whispered to him, "It just appeared a few seconds ago." Harry nodded his head. Amazing, he thought. Somehow the idea of conjuring up such a large carriage seemed very unbelievable to him. They climbed into the carriage (there were ladders for people of smaller stature than Madame Maxime) and took off.
It took them just a minute to arrive at Beauxbatons. Harry gasped as he looked around him. The Palace of Beauxbatons was beautiful. It looked like it was made of pure gold, and there were immense sculptures here and there in the garden. Pretty little fairies flew here and there among the bushes, making it seem like the bushes were glittering in the sun.
"Welcome to Beauxbatons," Madame Maxime said proudly.
"Wow," said George. He reached out and gently patted a fairy. The fairy suddenly bit his finger. "Ow!" he cried. "That tiny little thing sure is fierce!"
Madame Maxime chuckled. "Never mess with ze Beauxbaton fairies," she said. "They are vairy pretty, but their bite is sharp. Come, we 'ave prepared a great feast in your 'onour."
Ron laughed quietly. "Nobody's ever prepared a feast in my honour," he whispered to Harry. "Me neither," whispered the twins together.
"Well now you've got a feast, so let's eat!" said Harry.
To their surprise they saw that all the students in the dining hall were standing at attention. "Oh my goodness, they're standing for us! This is so cool!" said Ron. Meanwhile, Hermione was busy looking at the enchanted chandelier on the ceiling, which could change colour and shape. She wondered what spell was used to create that effect. A Tukarus Charm maybe, she thought. Hermione had come on this trip with the purpose of learning more about other countries and their cultures. So far, she was enjoying every moment of it.
"Students, pleeze welcome your visitors from the 'Ogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" cried Madame Maxime, her deep voice booming throughout the hall. The Beauxbaton students immediately clapped and one of them conjured up a big banner that said, 'Welcome to Beauxbatons'.
The group from Hogwarts was surprised at the warm welcome that they received. "Well, this isn't a bad school," said Harry to Ron. "Yeah," replied Ron, his eye upon Fleur Delacour, a pretty half-Veela girl he had met last year. "Fleur's here! I wonder why – I thought she was seventh grade last year!"
"She entered the Triwizard Tournament, so she had to repeat one year I suppose," answered Hermione.
"But Harry didn't have to?" said Ron in astonishment.
"Yes, but the seventh year is a very important year for most Wizarding schools. You will take your school-leaving examination, and that's why Fleur had to repeat one more year, I suppose," replied Hermione.
"Wow, luckily you're not in seventh grade, Harry!" exclaimed Ron. "I wonder if Fleur will show us around the school later on?"
Hermione snorted loudly. Ron frowned, but his expression changed when he saw the food on the tables. There were all sorts of French food, including the 'bouillabaisse' that they had at Hogwarts last year. But there were lots of English food, prepared specially for them. While Ron and the others were helping themselves to the food, Harry looked around the hall. He saw Dumbledore sitting with all the teachers at the High Table, just like Hogwarts. Beauxbatons seemed to have four schoolhouses too – one was represented by a dragon, the others represented by a sphinx, a phoenix and a unicorn. He and the others were sitting at the house table represented by a dragon. Before biting into a slice of roast beef, Harry wondered what qualities each house represented. Let's see…dragon's probably something like Slytherin – both are reptiles. The sphinx might be the same as Ravenclaw – the sphinx I met last year was smart, phoenix – are phoenixes brave? Well they must be, Fawkes is. And that means the unicorn's Hufflepuff, thought Harry. He thought that Beauxbatons seemed like a good school – especially the food, he thought. He looked at his friends, who were all busy eating greedily. Hermione however, was deep in conversation with someone who strongly reminded Harry of Percy. The boy looked intelligent, stern and disciplined, and he spoke perfect English.
"Well, we learn the same subjects as you learn in Hogwarts," the boy was saying. "But we also learn French and German. Everything here is taught in French, so we learn English as an extra subject."
"Any other subjects?" Hermione asked. "What about those magic-related ones?"
"We learn Magical Geography here," said the boy. "But I don't think we learn Divination. Madame Maxime feels that Divination is basically guesswork."
"She's right!" said Hermione. "I used to take Divination, but our teacher was such an air-head I stopped."
"That's terrible," the boy said sympathetically. "At Beauxbatons we have very dedicated teachers."
"Oh, most of our teachers are very good," Hermione said hurriedly, anxious to prove that Hogwarts didn't have air-heads as teachers. "I enjoy all my subjects – they're very fun. But I have another question – you don't seem French. Where are you from?"
The boy hesitated a while. Harry leaned forward a little to hear the boy's words. "I am from Hidrea," he said. Harry choked on his orange juice and Hermione nearly dropped her spoon. They exchanged shocked glances for a moment.
"You're – from Hidrea?" said Hermione faintly.
"Yes," the boy said. His face was sad now. "My family lived in Hidrea for years, but then there were riots, and we sought refuge in France, along with the rest of the Hidrean Wizarding community. But now that He Who Must Not Be Named has been killed, my family has moved back there again, with a few others. I was left here to finish my schooling, for the Hidrean Magical Institute was destroyed in the riots."
"Why did your family move back?" asked Harry suddenly. The boy looked at him with astonishment. "Harry Potter!" he exclaimed. "Thanks to you my family now has gone back to Hidrea. You have made Hidrea a safe place again. I thank you," he said, bowing his head. Several other students stared at him, but they went on eating. Ron and the twins looked up, interested.
"We moved back because we believe that one day the heir of King Henri Pavlovsky will come and reclaim the throne of Hidrea," said the boy. There was a note of pride in his voice. Harry tried not to show his nervousness. "My name is Andrei Visalia, and I am the descendant of Captain Andrei, the brave Captain of the Guard who was commanded by King Henri himself to fight the riots in Hidrea a long time ago. Captain Andrei was killed, but my family believes that the line of King Henri has not failed yet, and somewhere out there is an heir who will someday reclaim Hidrea and bring peace to us all. Then, so our family legend goes, then only will Captain Andrei rest in peace."
"I see," said Harry. He was feeling very odd now, rather like he wanted to rush out to Hidrea and seize the throne so that he could bring peace to Andrei's family. "But – you speak fluent English, though the way you speak is a little – a little – oh, never mind. I thought Hidreans would have an accent."
"No," replied Andrei. "Hidreans do not have accents. We used to speak our own language, many years ago, but now we have changed so much that the only language we speak is English."
"What's Hidrea like now?" questioned Hermione.
"It is a dreary place now!" replied Andrei. "But now that the riots have ceased, things are slightly better. We have begun restoration work on Hidrea's ancient castles and the land."
"There are castles?" asked Harry with interest.
"Oh yes, many of them – relics of the old days. The palace where the king lived still stands, and though it is worn down and old, it's still very beautiful and majestic. My people are trying their best to restore the castle, so that next time when the king comes again it will be ready for him," answered Andrei. "But now I have a question. Why are you so interested in this?" Andrei's voice became suspicious.
Hermione looked anxiously at Harry, who answered, "We're just very curious about Hidrea's history. Our favourite subject at Hogwarts is History of Magic," he said, crossing his fingers behind his back.
"Yeah, that's right," said Ron, though he had one arm in the pocket of his robes. "You can trust us, we won't tell anyone anything."
Andrei's face relaxed and he smiled. "Good! Well, you are going to visit Hidrea, aren't you? You may visit my family in the capital. Just ask for Mr. Visalia, everybody knows my father – he's an important statesman there."
"Statesman? But I thought Hidrea is now under British control," said Harry, puzzled.
"Yes, but the British government was so disturbed by the riots there that they allowed elections to be held and the winning political party to rule. This happened only a few years ago. Luckily for us, the Hidrean Wizarding Political Party won, of course, Muggles know it as the United Hidrean Political Party. My father is the mayor of the capital," Andrei said.
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but just then Madame Maxime stood up and spoke. She didn't need a spell to magnify her voice. "Students!" she cried, "please stand up and sing the Beauxbatons school song for our honoured guests!" The students leaped to their feet and began to sing along to the music, played by an unseen orchestra.
Harry and the others couldn't understand a single word of the song – it didn't seem to be French – but Harry remembered that it was breathtaking, inspiring and tuneful – rather like the songs people sing when a country has won a war. And someday maybe they'll sing that when I am king, thought Harry. I will be king! I will – I'll claim revenge for my family, for my parents, for my ancestors, for myself. Ron looked at him with wonder. It seemed to him that Harry was Harry Potter no longer, but the son of kings – the heir to a throne. But then Harry shook his head, as though awakening from a dream, and he became Harry Potter once more.
The guests were given special rooms in the palace, where they spent the night. But Harry, Ron, Hermione and the twins could not sleep. It was lucky that Professor Dumbledore was not sharing their room, because they were talking quite loudly.
"Well, what do you think of that Andrei?" asked Ron.
"He's a nice boy," said Hermione. "He knows lots of interesting things about Hidrea."
"He's – different," answered Harry. "Doesn't seem to be a boy. He's like a person from another world. He speaks like a member of the royal family!"
"Well, what do you expect?" said Fred. "He's a foreigner! He's from Hidrea, and I suppose that everyone talks like him there. If we don't watch out, we'll be just like them by the time the summer holidays end!" He laughed loudly. Hermione frowned at him.
"Quiet, will you?" she hissed. "Anyway, I've been thinking – Andrei might be quite useful to you, Harry. If you tell him who you really are, he might be able to tell his father – and his father will arrange everything for you to be king again!"
"It's not as easy as you think, Hermione," sighed Harry. "First, will he believe me? Second, what makes you think the British will just give away their land like that?"
"Of course he'll believe you," said Ron. "I mean, you are the famous Harry Potter – who wouldn't believe that you're the heir to the throne?"
"Ron's right," said George. "But the only problem is the British government. But you've got that diary – that diary that You-Know-Who and Lucius Malfoy used as a way to pass messages. That's proof enough."
"Who would believe that diary?" asked Harry in exasperation. "It has all sorts of stuff about magic – would the Prime Minister believe that? He'll think it's some crackpot story that we cooked up."
"But the Prime Minister knows about the Wizarding community, Harry," said Hermione. "Remember, the Ministry of Magic is a branch of the whole government itself. Of course only the Prime Minister knows – and the Queen, perhaps – but nobody else knows. So if we can somehow speak to them, maybe they'll let us have it!"
"Have it?" Harry gave a hollow laugh. "Even then who will rule it? I can't, I'm still too young."
"Dumbledore could," replied Ron.
"Dumbledore has enough on his hands," said Hermione. "What with Hogwarts, and England – but still, he'll make a fine Prime Minister."
"Yes, he would," said Harry thoughtfully. "But still, the main problem is whether we should tell Andrei or not. I think we can trust him, but then Dumbledore warned us not to tell anyone about it."
"So let's ask Dumbledore for permission!" cried Fred. Hermione hissed at him. "Be quiet!"
"All right, all right, keep your hair on," said Fred. "Listen, let's go now and find Dumbledore. Everyone should be asleep by now, so it'll be safe."
"And what if Professor Dumbledore's asleep?" asked Ron. "What do we do, bang on the door?"
George glanced at his watch. "It's only eleven o'clock," he said, "and I know Dumbledore doesn't go to sleep until about midnight. We have one hour."
"But what if someone sees us?" asked Hermione. "Maybe the caretaker here is as nasty as Filch."
"We've got to take the chance," said Harry, getting up from his bed. "This is important."
They tiptoed out of the room and went down the corridor. They knew where Professor Dumbledore was sleeping, as they had been taken on a brief tour of the palace just now.
"Here! This is his room!" whispered Hermione to the others, pointing at a big golden door. Fred squinted through the keyhole. "There's a light!" he said. "Dumbledore's awake!"
Feeling very tense, Harry knocked on the door softly. The door opened and Dumbledore looked out. He was still dressed in his wizard robes. "What is it?" he asked. "Come on in."
"Professor," Harry said nervously, "there's something we have to tell you." And he told the Professor the full story of what had happened that day, helped along by the others. At the end of it, Professor Dumbledore looked grave.
"Well, we can't be very sure of who he is," he said at last. "But I know the Visalia family very well. And they do have a son called Andrei. I will allow you to tell him. After all, he may be able to help you. Tomorrow morning, why don't you ask him to come to me? I will tell him the story personally, and I will contact his father. My advice to you, Harry, is to ascend the throne as soon as possible after you graduate from Hogwarts. I have heard strange rumours of a dark sprit who inhabits the forests of Albania. I am afraid that it is Voldemort."
"What will happen if he rises again?" asked Hermione, trembling visibly. "Can't some Aurors go out and finish him off?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "They have tried," he said. "But Voldemort is sneaky, and clever to avoid capture. That is why you, Harry must reclaim Hidrea. Then you would be able to have a fully-fledged army, more than capable of dealing with Voldemort. Right now it's impossible to ask for help from the Muggle government – they'll think we're crazy."
Harry nodded. "But I'm too young," he said. "And how on earth am I going to just walk up to the Queen and ask for the throne of Hidrea?"
Professor Dumbledore laughed. "You won't have to do any walking, I promise," he chortled. "The Prime Minister knows about us, and so does the Queen. That diary you have is evidence enough. Even if a Muggle performs their own special tests, it would prove to be genuine. And so they are compelled to give you Hidrea."
"What if they don't believe that I'm the heir?" argued Harry.
Dumbledore hesitated a while before answering. Then he got up, and opened a drawer. Finally he brought out a fabulous golden crown, so beautiful that Harry and the others could only gape at it. The crown seemed to be made of pure gold, and a faint radiance shone from it. Precious jewels were set all around it. In the very centre of the crown, there was a seal-
"That's the coat-of-arms of the Hidrean royal family," said Professor Dumbledore. The seal itself was beautiful. There were two winged unicorns upon a shield, and inside the shield were two crossed wands. On the top of it there was a silver crown.
"This is the royal crown of Hidrea," said Dumbledore. "Every king possessed it. Your father gave it to me for safekeeping a long time ago. But I didn't think it wise to let you have it – yet. It is far too valuable for you to keep it. There are records of this crown in the old history books of England. This is proof enough for you."
"Wow," said Ron. Harry was speechless. He reached out and touched the crown. He felt a sudden warmth in his hand, and to his surprise the crown changed colour and grew silver. Then it changed back to gold again.
"What happened?" asked Harry, nearly dropping the crown in his amazement.
"This is proof that you are the heir of King Adam Pavlovsky, first king of Hidrea. He cast a spell on the crown so that the people would know who is the true heir to the throne. When King Henri left the country, he did not give it to King Timothi Ridin. Now you will be able to prove that you are the true heir," said Professor Dumbledore.
"Wow," said Ron again. "Well, that's proof all right!"
"Yes, it is," replied Dumbledore. "Well, better get to bed now! We'll be leaving in the morning, so off to bed, all of you!"
"Er…Andrei?" Harry said. They were all having breakfast in the dining hall, and Harry had decided to ask Andrei to go to Professor Dumbledore then.
"Yes, Harry?" replied Andrei, looking up from his bowl of cereals. Harry cleared his throat nervously.
"Dumbledore – I mean Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, would like to speak to you," he said.
Andrei got up immediately and said, "I will go now. Thank you for informing me." He bowed and went up to the High Table. Harry saw Professor Dumbledore lead Andrei out of the hall. He heaved a sigh of relief.
"Done," he said. "I hope this will be okay."
"What's there to be so worried about?" asked Hermione, not looking up from her book. Ron frowned at her. "Why on earth are you studying?"
"I'm not studying, Ron," snapped Hermione. "But I still do study, you know. I'm just taking a break."
"A break!" exclaimed George, staring at the thick book Hermione held in front of her plate. "Give me a break!"
"Now I know why your bag was so heavy," said Harry. "It was full of books!"
As they were all leaving the dining hall, Andrei rushed up to them. His face was shining with excitement. Upon coming face to face with Harry, he stood still and saluted. The other students stopped to stare at them in astonishment.
"You can stop your game now, Andrei!" said Hermione in a light-hearted tone to avoid suspicion. When the hall was nearly empty, she said, "Andrei, you musn't do that! It's supposed to be a secret! Didn't Professor Dumbledore tell you?"
"Yes," Andrei replied. "He told me many things. And you!" he said, turning to Harry. "You are the heir to the throne! You – you are King Henri Pavlovsky!" He was careful to keep his voice low.
"I'm not Henri Pavlovsky, I'm Harry Potter!" insisted Harry, but then it struck him that Harry was indeed the same as Henri, so it made no difference, since his surname was really Pavlovsky.
"You are King Henri Pavlovsky," Andrei said proudly. "You shall be known as the Young King, King Henri the Younger!"
"Yeah, when I reclaim the throne, that is," said Harry. "What did Dumbledore tell you?"
"He told me the story," said Andrei, "and he told me to contact my father – he said that he will write to my father also. He told me to send word of this to my friends in Hidrea – I have many friends there – he told me to tell my friends' parents, and instruct them to gradually tell the people – slowly, so that it would not be a shock. And I am sure that my father will help you. He knows many important people in England, and he will help you get an audience with the Prime Minister when you graduate later."
"That's good," said Harry. "But Andrei – this is a complete secret. You can't tell anyone except the people whom you think you can trust. Understand?"
"Of course, your Royal Highness," Andrei said, bowing deeply. Harry felt his cheeks go red.
"Just call me Harry," he said. "It's too weird, don't you think?"
"I don't think it's weird," replied Andrei, his face full of admiration.
"Well, anyway," said Hermione, "we've got to go now. Goodbye, Andrei!"
"Goodbye, King Henri and his honoured friends!" said Andrei.
Professor Dumbledore was already waiting for them outside the school grounds. It seemed that Madame Maxime had provided food for an army, as their broomsticks were laden with huge packages.
"All ready?" Dumbledore asked, smiling at them all.
"Yes," Harry replied. Just then Madame Maxime arrived and said, "Goodbye, Dumbly-dorr, I 'ope you enjoyed your stay here at Beauxbatons."
"Indeed we did, Madame Maxime," said Dumbledore, bowing low. After exchanging goodbyes, the group from Hogwarts kicked off into the air and were soon on their way to Luxembourg.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, they all belong to J.K. Rowling, except for a few of my own (King Henri and friends).
Author's Note: I'm so sorry for making this so long-winded! And my geography is horrible, we don't study geography in my school – so I have no idea whether Dover and Calais are really seaports or not. Please comment, okay?