The Prince's Tutor

Harry pulled off his athletic gloves, threw them into the compartment of his car, and started the engine. He had just finished a game of polo with Will and some friends and he had done much better than his brother. Harry was born with a talent for sports- the one thing he was better at than William, so naturally he’d brag about it every chance he’d get. He was free for the rest of the day, seeing as he didn’t have all the responsibilities William had.

He stalled for time, driving around familiar streets repeatedly, searching for something to occupy himself with. Suddenly his phone rang; it was a girl he’d met the other night. Deciding he was bored with her already, (she really wasn’t all that until the sixth beer or so) he decided to drive by the pub to see some friends.

Inside, the music pounded Harry’s ears. Perfect. It was just loud enough to mute all of Harry’s thoughts. He made his way over to the usual group of guys, surrounded with half naked women and an endless supply of liquor. A playful smile curled on Harry’s lips as a tall blonde, drunk off her arse, came over to him and started to dance grind on him.
Yes, he could already tell that the night would be a good one.

~~~~***~~~~~~

“Harry, get up!” the roaring sound of William’s voice awakened Harry very suddenly.
He opened his eyes to see Will hovering over him, shaking him roughly. William’s words appeared like fireworks exploding in Harry’s ears, causing his head to hurt.

“Bloody hell, do you have to be so damn loud?” Harry cursed as he sat up on his bed, touching his ears.

Will looked at him in confusion. Loud? William studied his younger brother, the said.
“For Christ’s sake, you’re hung-over again!”
Harry ignored his brother, and kept massaging his temples profusely, attempting to rub away the pain.

“Harry, you have to get up! Dad wants to talk to you in the common room.”
Will hoped that for once in his life, Harry would do as he was told.
“About what?” Harry asked, looking extremely bothered.
“Are you joking? You really don’t remember?”

The ginger boy looked up at his older brother, an expression that said
‘What in the hell are you talking about?’ Will sighed, exasperated with the troublesome boy, grabbed the daily newspaper off the table, and shoved it in front of Harry’s face.

“That is what Dad wants to talk about.”
Harry absorbed the information in front of him.
“Oh”, was all he could muster.

On the front cover of the gazette, there were pictures of Harry and two other women completely naked. The title read ‘Prince Harry’s Royal Threesome in Local Pub.’

The images of the previous night started to bombard Harry’s troubled mind. There were loud music, bright lights, and liquor-lots of hard liquor. Slowly, everything started to piece together.

Great, he was really in for it now.

Will frowned, seeing Harry’s burdened expression. He decided to go rather easy on him.
“Mate, get up. I’ll try to hold off Dad’s anger while you dress.” Will exited the room, leaving Harry alone in his misery.

Harry kept silent for a moment, reading the article. His turquoise eyes held pure rage as he read over every remark and sarcastic comment, all criticizing his character, intelligence, and family involvement.

Suddenly with a great force he tore the gazette in strips. The words of the writers echoed in his head as he demolished the remains of the paper. His usual pale face turned beet red from his fury. He let an angry laugh escape his gentle lips, pulling himself together.

~~**~~~~

Charles sat on the luxurious sofa that inhabited the British common room. He tapped his foot, impatiently awaiting his second son. The moment Harry came into view; he motioned for him to sit opposite of him. Charles did his best at keeping his voice down, and almost failed, as he spoke:

“Well? Explain”, his voice dripped with poison.

Harry kept an apathetic face, and stared his father straight in the eye. He appeared as if he was bored.

“There’s nothing to explain.” He stated, nonchalantly.

Charles inhaled deeply; his eyes seemed to devour his son in fury.

“You imbecile” he bellowed. “You dare act as if this is nothing? You have humiliated this entire family countless times. What the hell were you thinking, strutting around with those two whores!?”

In his state of fury, Charles stood up with the newspaper clutched in his hand, and chucked it straight at Harry’s face. The paper flew at Harry, touching his clear visage, and carelessly floated down toward carpet.

He let the silence sink in, holding together his composure, and forced a small smirk onto his beautiful face.

Staring straight up at his father, a devilish glow escaped him and he spoke clearly and calmly.

“In my defense, I didn't know they were strippers. I was much too wasted to tell.”

Charles, livid, came at his son. Just as he was about to grab him by the shoulders and shake the devil out of him, he stopped, noticing the servants watching the scene nearby.

He turned to them and roared. “Get the fuck out! All of you!”

One by one, the maids and butlers disappeared from sight. When they were fully alone, Charles turned to his ginger-haired son.

“You will be punished. I will no longer ignore this matter. No, no. From next week on, you are to go to school. I enrolled you in Cambridge this morning.”

Harry, bewildered, fought the strong urge to burst out laughing. School?That was the big punishment?

“What? School? Have you learned nothing at Eton?” he remarked. He was now very intrigued by his father’s motives. Clearly, the man was losing his touch.

“Don’t get smart with me!” Charles yelled, his voice reaching a pitch it never had before.

Harry bit his tongue; his father was close to insanity. Though it was difficult, Harry knew not to say anymore.

After a couple moments of silence and Charles fidgeting around the room, he said.

“Get the hell out of my sight.” Harry got up and left the room, leaving his father who was now clutching his heart.