Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Chapter 125 I'll reward you with a little flower

Henry put down his newspaper and looked up to find everyone around him staring at him.

At the long table in Hufflepuff, the students who usually didn't dare to speak to him were now stealing glances at him as if he were a legendary figure.

Over there, several sixth-grade girls were whispering to each other, their eyes occasionally drifting over.

Even Flint, who usually has a serious expression, nodded approvingly at him.

"Your Highness," Draco leaned closer and said in a low voice, his expression reserved, but the excitement in his eyes was immediately apparent, "you are a celebrity now, a real celebrity."

Henry glanced at him.

"Wasn't it like that before?"

Don't tell me, you really shouldn't tell me.

"—It always was," Draco chuckled, "but now it's even more famous."

Pansy nodded beside her, her hair swaying back and forth.

"Yes. Before, he was just a celebrity at Hogwarts, maybe with Diagon Alley at most. Now he's a celebrity in the entire wizarding world. On the front page of the Daily Prophet! On the front page!"

Daphne said softly, "Your Highness, what your father said is very true."

"He's always been a great talker," Henry said with a smile, trying to save face for his father. "Among Muggles, he can give a speech for forty minutes straight without repeating himself, and he can make everyone feel like he's talking to themselves."

"Forty minutes?" Ron suddenly appeared, his eyes wide with surprise. He must have seen the newspaper. "I start daydreaming after ten minutes of class."

"So your spells are always failing." Hermione's voice came from behind him.

"I wasn't daydreaming! I was just thinking!" Ron protested.

"Think about what? Think about which book Professor Flitwick will be standing on today?" Hermione retorted.

Ron opened his mouth, but found himself unable to refute it.

The three Hufflepuffs also joined in—Hannah, Susan, and Justin, each holding a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Hannah's newspaper also had several circles drawn on it, which looked like the important points she had marked.

"Your Highness," Hannah whispered, her eyes sparkling, "are unicorns really close to you?"

"Don't you know?" Henry glanced at her.

"I know it, but seeing it written in the newspaper—it feels different," Hannah said softly.

"What's different?" Henry asked.

"So...it's been corrected? More...more..." Hannah thought for a long time but couldn't come up with a suitable word.

"More authoritative now?" Susan added for her.

"Yes! It's more authoritative now!" Hannah nodded vigorously.

"Unicorns don't read the Daily Prophet," Henry shook his head helplessly. "They don't care about that."

Everyone laughed.

Hermione cleared her throat, her voice not loud, but enough to quiet everyone around her.

"Your Highness, what His Highness said is indeed very good," she said, "but I think the most crucial point is still that it's a model of cooperation between two worlds."

Henry looked at her with great interest, clearly wanting to see what insightful opinions this know-it-all had.

"That statement carries a lot of political weight," Hermione continued, lightly gesturing to the line in the newspaper. "It implies that the relationship between the Royal Family and the Ministry of Magic is one of equality. Mr. Fudge has been emphasizing the Ministry's independence lately, yet at the same time, he needs the Royal Family's funding and support. This statement gives Fudge the equality he desires while also highlighting the Royal Family's position."

Ron, with a chicken leg stuffed in his mouth, stared at her blankly, his cheeks puffed out like a hamster hoarding food.

"What are you talking about?" he asked indistinctly.

Hermione sighed, a sigh filled with boundless tolerance for Ron's low intelligence.

"Is this something you should be thinking about?" She shook her head. "Ron, you're different from others. Don't waste your enthusiasm on this—"

"I really don't have any interest!" Ron said matter-of-factly, grabbing a handful of pumpkin juice and taking a big gulp. "I'm here to eat, not to be the Minister of Magic."

Harry quietly munched on a grilled sausage, pretending he hadn't heard anything—a skill he'd honed at the Dursleys' house, allowing him to blend into the background when he didn't want to participate in the conversation.

Justin glanced around to make sure no professors were watching, then leaned close to Draco and whispered, "Um—Malfoy, are you guys really going to watch the games this summer?"

Draco nodded reservedly.

"Chadri Artillery Team vs. Tatsil Tornado Team, July 20th," he said casually. "I've already had the best seats booked—a VIP box, the kind with rainproof charms."

"The best location? How expensive would that be?" Justin asked, intrigued.

"Don't worry about it." Draco raised his chin, quite proudly. "If you want to come, it's on me."

Justin paused for a moment, then chuckled.

"Malfoy, you're actually a pretty nice guy."

"Enough with the nonsense." Draco snorted arrogantly. "Remember to be on time. If you're late, you'll have to give your seat to someone else."

"Don't worry," Justin said with a smile, "I'll definitely be there on time. If you're interested, I can also treat you to a football match—"

When breakfast was over, Henry stood up, placed his napkin on the table, and prepared to go to his Transfiguration class that day.

As I walked out of the auditorium, the sun was shining brightly, but not too hot. The corridor behind me was full of students rushing to class; some were jogging, some were calling out to those ahead to wait for them, and some were complaining about how much homework they had that day.

Henry walked slowly through the crowd.

He hadn't gone two steps when he ran into Professor Flitwick.

The short Charms professor was looking at him with a kind smile.

"Mr. Wells!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with glee, drawing the attention of several passing students. "I read the newspaper! It's excellent! Looks like Dumbledore's going to give Slytherin another bonus!"

"Thank you, Professor," Henry said, bowing slightly.

Professor Flitwick waved his wand happily, producing a small flower which he pinned to the collar of his robe.

"This is a reward!" he said, tilting his head back. "Keep it up!"

Then he left.

Henry looked down at the little flower, unsure of what to say.

What is this? A reward from kindergarten?

Draco was trying hard to suppress his laughter, his shoulders shrugging.

"Your Highness," he tried to make his voice sound normal, "your current look is quite unique."

Yes, I'm also very 6+1.

Henry glanced at him: "You want it?"

Draco quickly waved his hand, politely declining, saying, "No, no, this is your honor. How could I possibly take it?"