This 30-year-old grandson of the reigning monarch must have pleased The Palace mightily with his contribution to the restoration of public affection after the estrangement that followed the death of his mother, Diana Princess of Wales, in Paris on August 31, 1997, another watershed moment in the history of the monarchy that demanded change, and achieved it.
The role played by Diana's boys, William's wife and now their children, in securing the future of the monarchy cannot be over-estimated.
New Zealand might be fertile ground for royal visitors, this the furthest-flung corner of the old empire arguably being the last bastion of overt loyalty, but the qualities that made this prince's visit such a success were not royal at all.
The key to Harry's popularity seems to be that he presents as just an ordinary bloke, albeit one with a slightly strange accent, who appears to be genuinely happy not only to mix and mingle with 'ordinary' Antipodeans but enjoys their company, and takes from that interaction as much as he gives.
It would be hard to imagine any of his predecessors slipping down to the pub in Oban, capital of Stewart Island (with an official population of 381) to take on the locals in the Sunday night quiz (only to lose to the security he took with him), indulging in a round of rock-paper-scissors or plonking his purple-painted hand on the balding pate of a royal photographer.
His itinerary might have been drawn up with a deliberate lack of opportunities to party, but Prince Harry displayed all the personality the most ardent of loyalists could have wished for, seasoned with a self-deprecating sense of humour and an innate sense of diplomacy.
He might well have set the republican cause back by a generation. Not to mention the Prime Minister's crusade for a change to the national flag.
Some might have suspected that he was simply doing his job when he spoke of his family's affection for New Zealand, but he was undoubtedly genuine when he said the links between the British monarchy and New Zealand were central to this country's constitution, but went much deeper than that.
"They are built on a profound personal fondness for this captivating country and its charming, talented people," he said. No wonder he was popular.
So popular perhaps that the few who can usually be trusted to take a royal visit as a golden opportunity to express their distaste for the monarchy in as boorish a manner as possible simply didn't show.
Perhaps they don't get out into the provinces, although Harry did wind up in Auckland, where there must be some who see anyone with HRH attached to his name as deserving of instant unemployment.
Maybe it was just that even the lunatic fringe know when they're on a hiding to nothing, and didn't want to attract the public opprobrium that would surely have befallen any display of anti-monarchist sentiment.
Last week was a good one for traditionalists, not only with Prince Harry's visit but an even more fleeting call by comedian David Walliams, known and loved for his part in the television sketch series Little Britain and his role as a judge in the mother of all talent quests, Britain's Got Talent.
It might not have been surprising that a crowd would turn out to hear a genuinely funny man, but the majority of the 2000 people who showed up at the Auckland Writers' Festival seemed to be young fans of his books.
Fancy that, kids getting excited about literature. Not that they have ever entirely fallen out of love with the written word, thanks in recent times to JK Rowling.
Walliams has been lauded by some as the successor of Roald Dahl, which suggests that there is much more to him than a well developed sense of humour. He has himself paid tribute to the Welsh-born writer, saying it was he who taught him to write "slightly dangerous" stories that parents could trust.
Who would have thought that a couple of Englishmen could have such a profoundly positive impact so far from home? And who doesn't take heart from the fact that we can be wondrously graceful hosts, whether the guest be a member of the Royal Family or a gifted author of children's books?
They've both gone home now though, so let's get back to Auckland's housing crisis and whether Sir John Kirwan is really cut out to be a coach.
One good deed
A 22-year-old Sikh living in Auckland might have done more for race relations in this country with one good deed last week than all the experts put together. The significance of what many would see as a small act of humanity would escape the great majority of us, but has earned Harman Singh praise on a global scale.
Mr Singh removed his turban to cradle the head of a small boy who was hit by a car, breaking a religious protocol that obviously means a great deal to him, and became an instant hero.
He had almost done the same thing, but thought better of it, when an elderly woman fell and banged her head some weeks earlier.
This time he put his turban under the child's head, which was bleeding profusely. Over the following days he received 'herograms' from as far afield as the US, Europe and India, and the story has been shared tens of thousands of times via social media.
The youngster is reportedly recovering in hospital, possibly thanks to the help he received from passersby including Mr Singh, but it was the 22-year-old student's action that has captured so many imaginations.
Why did he do it? He was trying to be a decent member of the community. Just as the vast majority of immigrants to this country strive to be every day, no doubt. No one, however they feel about the changing face of New Zealand society, can ask for more.
