Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Chapter 131 Miss Farley's Gift

Dumbledore finished speaking, but the atmosphere in the Great Hall remained tense for a long time.

Cheers rose in waves at the Slytherin table. Some stood up to hug, some spilled pumpkin juice like champagne, and others were already planning tonight's celebration party.

"Your Highness!" A sixth-grade boy squeezed through the crowd with a genuine smile. "You're amazing! One hundred points! In my seven years of schooling, I've never seen anyone get a hundred points in one go!"

"Me too!" a fifth-grader chimed in. "You know what? We just calculated it, and the points you earned by yourself are more than the entire Hufflepuff Academy adds up to in a whole school year!"

"That's because Ravenclaw didn't try hard enough," Pansy retorted sarcastically.

People around them burst out laughing.

At that moment, the crowd suddenly parted to make way for them.

Prefect Farley came over.

"Mr. Wells," she smiled slightly, "congratulations."

Henry bowed slightly.

"Thanks."

“In the last hundred years,” Miss Farley said again, “no first-year student in Slytherin has achieved what you have.”

She took a small silver snake-shaped brooch from her prefectural badge and handed it to him.

"This is a personal gift," she added.

Henry took the brooch and glanced down at it.

It is very small and exquisitely crafted; the snake's eye is a tiny emerald.

"Thank you, Miss Farley."

Miss Farley nodded, turned and left.

Behind her, several older students were whispering to each other.

"Fali actually gave away her brooch?" A freckled blonde girl asked incredulously.

"That was left to her by her grandmother!" said the big-toothed guy next to Flint.

Draco leaned closer, staring wide-eyed at the brooch.

"Merlin, this is a gift from Miss Farley!" He exclaimed incredulously, "She actually gave you a gift—"

Henry was also quite surprised, but it was a good thing.

The celebrations continued late into the night, with the fireplace in the Slytherin common room burning brighter than usual and silver ribbons hanging from the dark green curtains.

Someone brought several large barrels of butterbeer from the kitchen, someone used magic to conjure up fireworks that sprayed silver light, and someone in the corner started playing a lute that they had found somewhere.

Draco leaned back on the sofa, a glass of butterbeer in his hand, his face flushed with a slight buzz—even though the stuff didn't contain any alcohol.

"Your Highness," he said, "you know, my father wrote a letter today."

Henry looked at him.

"What did you say?"

Draco raised his chin smugly.

He said the Malfoy family is proud to follow you.

Henry smiled; he knew why Lucius had given him such high praise.

By establishing the Magical Creatures Sanctuary, Lucius will gain at least 100,000 Galleons in profit, which is a timely help for the declining Malfoy family. No wonder Lucius is happy.

"Please thank your father for me," he said.

"You're welcome," Draco said solemnly. "You deserve it."

Pansy, who was standing next to her, was already a little tipsy—even though the drink didn't actually contain any alcohol, she was still feeling intoxicated.

She put her arm around Daphne's shoulder and kept saying things like, "Your Highness is so amazing," "From now on, we belong to Your Highness," and "Malfoy, don't push me."

Daphne blushed slightly as she was held in her arms, but she didn't push her away.

The next morning, they packed their bags, left Hogwarts Castle, and went to the platform to take the train home.

-

The Hogwarts Express, puffing out white smoke, slowly pulled away from the platform.

Henry sat in the cubicle, watching the familiar scenery outside the window gradually recede into the distance.

Draco sat opposite him, with Pansy and Daphne sitting beside him.

Crabbe and Goyle were in another compartment, playing cards with some Slytherin classmates. The sounds of celebration for winning and shouts of "You cheated!" could be faintly heard from the other side.

"Your Highness," Draco suddenly spoke, "what are your plans for the summer vacation?"

"I'm going to Spain this summer." Henry turned his gaze from the window. "The Barcelona Olympics will be held in July, and I don't have anything urgent to do this summer, so I should go and participate in such a grand event."

"The Olympics?" Draco asked curiously. "What's that?"

Henry turned his gaze from the window to the several curious faces opposite him.

"The biggest sporting event in the Muggle world," he said. "Every four years, athletes from all over the world come together to compete in running, swimming, gymnastics—all sorts of events."

Draco blinked. "Like the Quidditch World Cup?"

"Pretty much," Henry thought for a moment, "but on a larger scale. The Quidditch World Cup is only for wizards, while the Olympics are for all countries in the world. This year there are over a hundred countries and tens of thousands of athletes."

Pansy gasped.

"More than 10,000 athletes?"

"Yes," Henry said. "Including coaches, referees, reporters, and spectators, there are at least several million people."

""

The cubicle fell silent; the sheer number of people had clearly shocked the young wizards present.

Daphne said softly, "Millions of people gathered together? How big would that place be?"

"Barcelona built an Olympic stadium specifically for the Olympics, which can hold 60,000 people," Henry said. "There are also swimming pools, basketball arenas, and various other competition venues."

Draco's expression was priceless.

"A stadium with 60,000 seats?" he muttered. "The Muggles—they're pretty impressive."

"Muggles don't have magic, but they have their own magic, and that's technology," Henry said with a smile.

He took a newspaper out of his bag, which Mercury had given him; the front page featured a picture of the Olympic torch relay.

"This is the Olympic flame." He handed over the newspaper. "The flame was collected in Greece and then relayed to the host city. Torchbearers carried it through many countries before finally lighting the main torch at the opening ceremony."

Several people gathered around, staring at the photo.

In the photo, a young man in a white tracksuit is running with a torch in his hand, followed by a group of people, all with smiles on their faces.

"No magic?" Pansy asked incredulously. "They just ran?"

"Yes, by running," Henry replied.

Pansy fell silent, clearly unable to understand why anyone would travel so far just to fetch a tinderbox.

"They must really love this," Daphne remarked.

"Yes," Henry nodded. "Love, that's what life is all about."

Draco returned the newspaper to Henry, lost in thought.

"Your Highness, you're going to Spain to see that—the opening ceremony?"