Chapter 4: The Kingdom of the Goat
—Castle of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster's Office—
Albus Dumbledore was definitely not pleased at the moment; in truth, he hadn't been pleased since the last meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards. Normally, the great kings of the Ten Great Families rarely involved themselves in the affairs of the confederation, claiming such matters were the concerns of insignificant commoners, and left the counts of the magical world and the representatives of each nation to handle them—unless, of course, they felt that there was, or would be, a matter of such importance that their presence was truly required.
He much preferred it that way. With the three Pendragon sisters—the only members of the royal family who legally held rights over the British lands—showing little affection for the homeland of their ancestors and allowing it to be governed under the Duchy of the Blacks, it had granted him leeway in several matters that the royal families would never have allowed.
In truth, the pure-bloods were right: the imperial law imposed by the Ten Great Kings was simple—"No child of magic shall ever, under any circumstance, intermingle in any way—socially or sentimentally—with a child of the mundane." In other words, wizards and every magical species were absolutely forbidden, under imperial law, from engaging in any sort of relationship with Muggles. A law he had never truly agreed with, believing with all his heart that both worlds could learn much from one another. After all, Muggles, contrary to what the kings claimed, were good for far more than just finding ever more horrific ways to kill each other. He had seen it with his own eyes, and he didn't care that historical evidence revealed he was, in fact, wrong—that magical and non-magical beings could never coexist as equals, doomed by the irrational fear of the non-magical toward anything they could not control.
What did all that have to do with why he was so deeply displeased?
Well, there were two main factors, both summarized in a single word—or, more precisely, in a single surname:
Udgard.
They were the oldest magical lineage on record, tracing their ancestry back to ages so ancient that they possessed knowledge of magic so old and powerful that Albus was certain that, if they weren't so arrogant in their belief that they already knew everything, they could use that precious knowledge for the common good. But they were arrogant and stubborn in maintaining the status quo, and as such, guarded it jealously, sharing it only with those they deemed worthy.
He, of course, had not been deemed worthy. There were several reasons for that—having once been Gellert's lover so many years ago, or the fact that his father had been condemned to Azkaban for exposing magic to Muggles—but Albus was certain that none of that truly mattered, and that he nonetheless deserved some of that knowledge.
But that wasn't what had him truly upset; it was something he argued about constantly, yet it never changed the answer. What really infuriated him was that the Udgard were going to involve themselves in the governmental affairs of Great Britain, and all his hard work to unite both worlds and prove coexistence possible was about to go completely to waste.
Of course, he had tried to object, arguing that, due to the circumstances of the last war against a British dark lord, he was, in effect, the Duke of the British Isles, as he was the magical guardian of the godson of the last heir of House Black—who had unfortunately fallen into darkness and now resided in Azkaban—and that, according to the Pendragon family, that gave him full right to govern the country as he saw fit.
Minato, of course, had agreed with him, which in fact surprised the other nine kings so much that even the normally unshakable Poseidon Lockser—known for his impassiveness even when his daughter accidentally set fire to his trousers while he was wearing them—fell off his chair in utter disbelief.
Nevertheless, after conceding his point, Minato also reminded him that, as one of the ten royal families, the Udgard had the authority to reclaim the legitimate rule of a nation under their own jurisdiction if the current government failed to deliver results or if the supreme law was broken.
Naturally, Dumbledore argued that such a supreme law required authorization from the Pendragon family and that the other nine royal houses would have to vote to decide which family would take control of the territory. He hadn't pointed that out out of any sense of loyalty to the Pendragons or anything of the sort; he simply thought that Artoria's indifference toward the British Isles would make her allow him to keep his power.
He had been completely wrong. After all, since the thirty-year-old queen had not the slightest affection for that country, she had no issue whatsoever with letting another of the kings take control. It wasn't a reward as such, but the other kings didn't particularly care whether her answer was "yes" or "I don't care," and took it as a "yes." And since none of them were about to oppose the high elf, it ultimately ended with the Udgard becoming the legitimate monarchs of Great Britain and Ireland.
Of course, they wouldn't begin right away; Elandor had his own affairs to attend to, and Minato couldn't simply abandon them to rescue a small island, even if it was the cradle of one of the ten capitals of the magical world. It was certainly outrageous that, to their queen, they were worth so little that she had practically handed them over with the crudest indifference. But there was nothing more to be done, for even all his schemes would be incapable of overcoming the political power the ten families wielded. And, honestly speaking, he preferred to avoid at all costs any direct military confrontation with the royal knights. He wasn't sure how many there were or how strong they might be, but he knew of certain individuals among their ranks: Sairaorg Bael was currently the strongest being physically alive—and that was without donning the armor of Regulus—; Hizoka the Mime was another member of the group.
They were simply people no one wanted to face, least of all him in his old age. Of course, he was fully convinced he could perhaps defeat one or two of them in combat through skill and experience. After all, he had more than a century of practice behind him—but his body was old, and he was no longer as agile as he once had been. Still, he could at least mitigate the damage. After all, Minato had wanted to see how the school's system functioned before anything else, and for that purpose he had chosen to send his firstborn, Prince Naruto, to study for a year at Hogwarts.
He hadn't interacted with him much—after all, he was only a child, and it was impossible for anyone who wasn't at least of marquess rank to approach him. And in the eyes of most of the magical world's kings, being the regent of a duchy was not the same as being its true duke; as such, he had never been permitted to get close to the young heirs. But he was certain he could convince the boy that everything he was doing was for the greater good. After all, he'd heard that the child was charming and not particularly aggressive.
—At the same time, Diagon Alley—
"So, to sum up… the blond brat mocked your accent, and Naruto just broke his nose to pieces?" asked Miray as she looked at her stepson and her friend, who looked anything but guilty, even though one of them had just sent a boy to the hospital merely for mocking her friend's way of speaking.
"More like one punch, but yes," replied Juvia with a nod. "Who would think English nobles turn so stupid, da? If things like this are normal, not strange Pendragon no longer want be part of British community."
Especially because the brat's father—who had been shouting at them for hitting a Malfoy while being "filthy Mudbloods"—was bound to cause trouble, and had only backed off when his wife, the only one who seemed to have a bit of sense, pointed out the Udgard and Lockser crests embroidered on their coats. She didn't know who that man was, but when her father found out she'd been called a Mudblood, he'd make the sea swallow them whole… literally.
"We really need to work on your anger issues, young man," said Miray, looking at the boy with a slightly furrowed brow, though she could already picture Kushina laughing her head off while shouting about how her baby boy was a true gentleman defending his ladies' honor from inbred idiots.
"Did I do something wrong?" asked Naruto, showing no trace of remorse. His mother had always told him to punch anyone in the face who dared to mock a lady.
Miray simply sighed. She knew she would have to make Kushina see that teaching her children that violence was the answer to every perceived offense was not the right way to raise them… but she'd deal with that tomorrow. For now, she would take her two lovely charges back home—and after that, she'd enjoy a very long and relaxing bath. She needed it after such a stressful day.
End of Chapter.
Final Notes:
Well, now a few things before I go.
First of all, I wanted to move away from the overly dramatic tone I'd used before and go for something lighter. With this new pace, I hope the story will be smoother and more enjoyable—both for you to read and for me to write. With a bit of luck, in the next chapter we'll finally arrive at Hogwarts; if not… well, I'll see what I can do.
Now, a few quick questions important to the plot, and this time I really want your answers:
— Who should Naruto's future wives be?
— This one's about the Royal Knights. Two have been mentioned, but there are many more, since they're the sons of dukes. Let's say there are around 220 dukes, because each country in the magical world has its own. Not all of them will appear, but I'd love some suggestions.
— Which House should Naruto—and hopefully Juvia—be sorted into?
That said, I'll see you in the next chapter.