Harry potter: I am the king of United Kingdom

The grand ballroom of Pendragon Castle shimmered with light, the chandeliers casting a golden glow across the marble floor. It was a space of grandeur and history, yet to young Arthur Pendragon II, it felt like a stage he wasn't entirely sure he was ready to step onto. He tugged at the stiff collar of his emerald-and-gold jacket, feeling both regal and trapped in its finery.

Tonight was an important night. For the first time, Arthur would meet his extended family—wizarding aristocrats from the most influential houses in Britain. His mother, Queen Morgana, had prepared him relentlessly for the occasion, ensuring he knew each family's name, reputation, and quirks.

"Arthur," she had said earlier, her hands gently straightening his jacket, "this is more than a party. These families will shape your future. Remember to be gracious but firm. Let them see the king you are destined to become."

He'd nodded, determined but nervous. Now, as the orchestra's music swelled and the guests began arriving, Arthur stood at the base of the grand staircase, watching the sea of unfamiliar faces.

The first family to approach was the Malfoys. Arthur recognized them immediately: Lucius, with his sharp, imposing demeanor; Narcissa, elegant and serene; and Draco, their son, who was Arthur's age. Draco's pale blond hair and sharp features made him look every bit the aristocrat.

Lucius inclined his head in greeting. "Your Majesty," he said, his voice smooth and deliberate. "It is an honor to be received by the Pendragon family."

Arthur offered a small smile, his mother's lessons echoing in his mind. "The honor is mine, Lord Malfoy. Your family's legacy is well-regarded in both the wizarding and magical communities."

Draco stepped forward, studying Arthur with a mixture of curiosity and subtle arrogance. "So, you're the prince," he said, his tone teetering between challenge and interest.

Arthur held his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "And you must be Draco Malfoy," he replied evenly. "I've heard much about you."

Draco's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Let's hope it was all good."

Arthur matched his smirk. "That depends on what you plan to show me tonight."

The exchange ended with a shared chuckle, and for the first time that evening, Arthur felt a flicker of camaraderie.

The next family to arrive was the Greengrasses. Lord Cyrus Greengrass, tall and composed, bowed deeply. "Prince Arthur, it is a privilege to meet you. May I present my daughters, Daphne and Astoria?"

Daphne, the elder, stepped forward gracefully, curtsying with a polite smile. "Your Highness," she said, her tone calm and measured.

Arthur returned her smile. "Lady Daphne, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Astoria, the younger sister, stepped forward with far less formality, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Do you really control the wind, like the rumors say?"

Arthur blinked, momentarily taken aback. Then, a genuine smile broke across his face. "I do," he admitted, his tone light. "Though I'm still learning to control it."

Astoria's face lit up with delight. "That's so cool!" she exclaimed, earning a soft gasp from Daphne.

"Astoria," Daphne chided, her cheeks flushing. "That's hardly proper!"

Arthur laughed, waving off the concern. "It's all right," he said. "I appreciate her honesty."

Astoria grinned triumphantly, while Daphne sighed in mild exasperation. Despite their differences, the sisters' dynamic intrigued Arthur, and he found himself wanting to know them better.

The evening continued with more introductions, but Arthur found himself returning to the company of Draco, Daphne, and Astoria. The four of them quickly fell into an easy rhythm, talking and laughing like old friends.

Draco shared stories about Hogwarts, where he'd soon be attending, and boasted about his family's connections. Daphne impressed Arthur with her sharp wit, offering clever insights about politics and society. Astoria, meanwhile, peppered him with questions about his abilities, her enthusiasm refreshing in a room full of rigid formality.

For the first time since arriving at the party, Arthur felt like himself—not just the prince everyone expected him to be.

Later that night, when the guests had departed, Arthur sat in his mother's study, recounting the evening. Queen Morgana listened attentively, her expression softening with pride as he spoke of his interactions.

"You've made an impression, Arthur," she said. "The Malfoys and Greengrasses are powerful allies, and it seems you've already begun forging bonds with their heirs."

Arthur nodded, then hesitated. "Mother, may I ask you something?"

"Of course," she replied, her tone gentle.

"Why do we never speak of Father?" he asked, his voice quieter than before.

Morgana's expression faltered, a flicker of pain crossing her face. She set down her wine glass and turned to the fireplace, the flames reflecting in her eyes.

"Your father was a remarkable man," she began, her voice thick with emotion. "He was a descendant of two great houses: the Dumbledores and the Gaunts. From the Dumbledores, he inherited wisdom and compassion. From the Gaunts, he inherited immense power—but also a darkness that he struggled to overcome."

Arthur leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "What happened to him?"

Morgana sighed deeply. "He gave his life for this family, for this kingdom. His love for us was his greatest strength and his greatest vulnerability. He was a hero, Arthur. Never forget that."

Arthur's chest tightened. He had always wondered about his father, and though the answers brought a mix of pride and sadness, they also gave him a clearer sense of who he was—and who he wanted to become.

"I'll make him proud," Arthur said firmly, his emerald eyes shining with determination.

Morgana reached out, placing a hand on his. "You already are, my son."

As Arthur left the study that night, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. He had discovered friendship in the Greengrasses and Draco Malfoy, learned of his father's heroic legacy, and felt the weight of his destiny more keenly than ever. The path ahead would not be easy, but he was ready to walk it, step by step.