Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Chapter 118 What you love is your life.

He pushed the plate of rock-hard, almost unrecognizable, flatbread in front of everyone. Ron looked at the plate with a pained expression and muttered to Harry, "I think this thing is even harder to deal with than the potions Snape gave us last semester."

Harry couldn't help but burst out laughing.

That afternoon, they talked for a long time in Hagrid's cabin.

Charlie told many amusing stories about his time in Romania—once a Hungarian wood bee almost burned down his tent, another time two fire dragons fought so hard the whole mountain shook, and yet another time he tried to give medicine to a sick Welsh green dragon and ended up getting sprayed with green dragon droppings that wouldn't come off even after three days of washing.

Harry laughed so hard he slapped the table.

"Charlie, you're having a really tough time."

Charlie raised an eyebrow: "Tragic? You think it's tragic, but I find it interesting. That's the difference."

Hermione, standing nearby, said thoughtfully, "Actually, it's because you truly love this job. If you love it, no matter how hard or tiring it is, you won't feel it's a burden."

Charlie looked at her and nodded.

"Hermione is right. I have a favorite quote that I can share with you: What you love is your life."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "You will definitely become a great wizard in the future."

Hermione blushed again.

Harry stood quietly smiling beside her, watching Hermione flustered by the praise, Ron laughing so hard he could barely breathe, and Hagrid grinning as he stroked Tooth's fur. A warm feeling suddenly welled up inside him.

In the evening, Charlie got up to say goodbye.

"I have to go," he said. "I have to get back to Scotland early tomorrow morning; they're pouring the foundation there, and I need to keep an eye on it."

Hagrid stood up reluctantly.

"Leaving so soon? Why don't you stay for dinner? I can make stew, I'm really good at stewing—"

Charlie patted his arm with a smile.

"Next time, Hagrid. I'll treat you to drinks the day the reserve officially opens, you can drink as much as you want."

Hagrid's eyes reddened again.

"That's a deal."

"It's a deal."

Charlie said goodbye to the Gryffindor trio again, and finally walked up to Henry.

"Your Highness," he extended his hand, "thank you, not because of the twenty million, but because—because you trust me."

Henry took his hand.

"You're welcome, you did a good job."

"I'll do my best," Charlie said with a smile.

He turned and walked toward the door, but stopped after a couple of steps and looked back at Hagrid.

"Oh, right, there's something I forgot to mention."

"Huh? What is it?" Hagrid exclaimed.

"Noberta is doing well," Charlie said. "It's grown quite a bit and can hunt for itself now. I once saw it flying in the sky from afar, and it looked like—"

He paused for a moment, as if thinking about how to describe it.

"That feeling was truly liberating."

Hagrid chuckled and nodded, "That's good, that's good. I was so worried about it—"

Charlie smiled, pushed open the door, and went out.

Several people stood at the door of the hut, watching his figure gradually disappear at the edge of the forbidden forest.

Hagrid suddenly said, "He's a good man."

Hermione nodded. Ron, unusually, didn't joke around and just quietly watched the direction his brother had disappeared in.

Harry suddenly spoke.

"Your Highness."

"What's wrong?" Henry asked without turning his head.

Harry thought for a moment, then slowly said, "What you did was really good."

Henry smiled.

"Thank you," he said.

After Charlie left, Henry returned to the castle.

A student ran past him, carrying thick books, his laughter clear and distant.

Henry slowed his pace, letting the sounds gradually fade into the distance.

He suddenly thought of something.

For a long time, his afternoon tea parties have been held separately.

Slytherins were one group, Hufflepuffs were another; occasionally Cho Chang would come, but that was alone.

But people from different colleges were never mixed together.

He stood in the middle of the corridor, looking out at the Forbidden Forest.

Slytherin was considered cunning and shrewd, while Hufflepuff was considered mediocre and mild-mannered.

Students from these two colleges rarely interact.

They didn't attend classes together, the common room was separated by an entire castle, and they even ate at opposite ends of the Great Hall.

Occasionally, we'd brush past each other in the hallway, exchanging only a glance before looking away and continuing on our own way.

But what if we could get them to sit down together and have a proper conversation?

After returning to his dormitory, he took out parchment and a quill pen from his pocket and wrote a few notes on the spot while leaning against the windowsill.

For Draco, Pansy, Daphne—and of course, Theodore, he decided to extend the afternoon tea to include Theodore.

After all, he was his roommate.

In addition to them, notes were also written to Hannah, Susan, and Justin.

He folded the note, opened Mercury's cage, combed the feathers on its chest with his fingers, and then tied the note to its leg.

"Give it to them," he said.

Mercury shook its feathers, pecked Henry's fingertip, and then flapped its wings and flew away.

In the Hufflepuff common room, Hannah was holding a potted plant and lost in thought.

The plant was one she brought back from her herbalism class last week. According to Professor Sprout, it was a rare magical plant that required watering at a specific frequency each day to survive.

Hannah has been watered for seven days, and I haven't seen any changes in it yet.

"Maybe he's already dead," she muttered softly.

Susan, who was sitting on the sofa next to me flipping through a book, looked up when she heard this.

"No, it won't. If Professor Sprout says it can live, then it definitely can."

"But it didn't react at all," Hannah said.

"Plants aren't cats, they won't rub against your hands," Susan said helplessly.

Hannah sighed, about to say something, when suddenly something fluttered down from the ceiling—a snow eagle.

It landed steadily on the coffee table in front of Hannah, raised one leg, revealing the note tied to it.

Hannah was stunned.

"This—this is—"

Susan leaned closer and immediately recognized the snow osprey.

"It's His Highness's owl."

Hannah's hand trembled slightly as she carefully unwrapped the note.

The parchment was of the finest quality, with neatly trimmed edges, and the ink was not yet completely dry, emitting a faint scent of ink.

She unfolded the note and read it word by word.

Susan and Justin also came over.

"His Highness invited us for tea," Hannah said, looking at the two of them. "Just the three of us."

Susan took the note and read it carefully.

"No, there are others too. Let's go to that empty classroom together tomorrow afternoon."

"But—Your Highness, aren't there still Slytherin people on your side?" Hannah said, biting her lip.

Justin paused for a moment, then said, "Uh—yes, since Your Highness said there are others, then Malfoy and the others must be there too."