Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Harry listened quietly, his mind filled with mixed feelings.

On the one hand, he was glad that he wasn't the only first-year Quidditch player anymore, and that he didn't stand out as much; on the other hand, he also felt a certain competitive pressure, especially since his opponent was from Slytherin.

The long table in Ravenclaw was also bustling with activity, as people discussed this extraordinary matter.

"From a tactical point of view, this response is actually not bad," Prefect Penelope Crivart told her friend. "Slytherin needs to respond to Gryffindor's move, especially since Wells was promoted not just because of his performance in flying class, but because he has indeed proven himself in training."

"I'm more curious about his background," a Ravenclaw boy joined the discussion. "Haven't the royal family had any wizards all these years? I think that's unlikely, unless..."

"Unless the royal family themselves have wizarding blood, but it's been concealed by the Law of Secrecy," another student chimed in, "that would explain why Dumbledore personally arranged his admission."

“Or,” Penelope pondered, “this could be a larger political signal. The relationship between the wizarding world and the Muggle world is changing, and Wells could be a key turning point.”

There wasn't much discussion at the Hufflepuff table; it was mostly limited to the first-year students.

"Hannah, you met him on the train, right?" Ernie McMillan asked his friend as he spread butter on his toast. "What kind of person is he?"

Hannah's face flushed slightly, as she always did whenever she became the center of attention.

"He was very elegant and spoke very gently. He was nothing like the Slytherin I remembered."

"But he is indeed a Slytherin," Ernie interjected. "And now he's a Quidditch prospect. But seriously, don't you guys think that's pretty cool? A Muggle—I mean, a kid from a non-wizard family—can establish himself in Slytherin and even make it onto the Quidditch team? That's just too awesome."

Justin came over with a plate and sat down: "But I've heard before that members of the royal family undergo special training to deal with various social situations, which may be why he adapted so quickly."

"I'm more curious about why he saved Neville," Ernie asked softly. "Slytherins don't usually do such selfless things."

Hannah thought for a moment: "Maybe he's just that kind of good person? No matter which college he's in?"

This simple conclusion made the Hufflepuffs nod in agreement.

In their view, kindness and integrity transcend the boundaries of academia, and Henry's act of saving lives undoubtedly proved this.

Every house has kind people... even Slytherin.

At the teachers' table, Professor McGonagall cut the food on her plate with a blank expression, but occasionally her gaze would sweep across the Slytherin table and linger on Henry for a moment.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and no one knew what she was thinking.

Professor Snape, as always, had a gloomy face, as if breakfast was an unbearable ordeal.

Only when his gaze occasionally swept over Professor McGonagall's complex expression would a hint of barely perceptible satisfaction appear.

Dumbledore sat in the center of the long table, his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles gleaming with pleasure.

He was adding sugar to his oatmeal—a full three large spoonfuls.

Professor McGonagall, who was standing next to him, gave him a disapproving glance, but the headmaster just winked at her.

"A fun year, Minerva," he said softly, in a voice only the two of them could hear. "Very fun."

Henry, of course, also noticed Dumbledore adding sugar.

No, you also have a lover who wants to be resurrected?

Is your partner not in Nurmengard?

On Tuesday afternoon, a little incident occurred.

"Did you hear?" Draco asked Henry as soon as he returned to the common room, immediately launching into a gossip: "Hufflepuff got into a fight with Gryffindor in Charms class today!"

"Is that so?" Henry asked, intrigued. "Tell me more."

Draco sat down next to Henry and began to gossip to him in detail.

The incident began during yesterday's Charms class, when Justin mishandled the Charm and hit his classmate Zacharias Smith, who was then taken to Mrs. Pomfrey's school hospital.

Some in Gryffindor mocked Hufflepuff as clumsy fools, while Ernie retorted that Gryffindor would only watch their classmates suffer danger, and that it was Slytherin who ultimately came to Neville's aid.

Then the two colleges started arguing.

Draco's attitude was one of schadenfreude, after all, in the eyes of the Slytherins, no house was more detestable than Gryffindor.

The relationship between the two colleges can be described as either perfect or irreconcilable.

This is why Dumbledore was so happy at breakfast—look, a Slytherin stepped forward to save a Gryffindor in a critical moment during flying class. What does that show? It shows that the barriers between houses can be broken down!

Henry knew what Dumbledore was thinking, of course, but he could only say that Dumbledore was overthinking things.

Unity? Oh no, that's so un-British.

For five hundred years, our diplomatic goal has never changed—to create a divided Europe. Therefore, we allied with the Netherlands to sanction Spain, with Germany to counterbalance France, with France, Italy, and Tsarist Russia to contain Germany, and with France to contain both Germany and Italy—divide and rule…

See, isn't the effect pretty good?

After afternoon tea, it was still time for me to practice spells alone.

Eight days have passed since I enrolled.

Henry's schedule was very tight, after all, he had so many things to do, and there was no escaping them all.

Learning about the history of the magical world, building relationships, practicing spells... these are all things that must be done.

He firmly believed that personal ability is always the foundation for success.

But he is only a first-year student and has only been exposed to magic for a few days. All he can do now is to solidify his foundation.

He wasn't without longer-term plans, such as forming a dueling club where real combat skills could be honed. Real-world combat was indeed the best way to hone one's abilities and test one's knowledge. But this idea was only briefly considered before he temporarily suppressed it.

Learning spells is a gradual process; you can't expect to run before you've even learned to walk.

Moreover, for the young wizards around us, practicing actual combat with them is not as good as playing with the training dummies in the Room of Requirement. At least the latter won't scream in pain if they get scratched by a spell.

Therefore, for the club to be valuable, it should at least invite a few more experienced senior students to join, so that they can guide them in learning spells and give them some pointers.

The problem is that he, a first-year student, even with a royal title, doesn't yet have enough influence to persuade those arrogant upperclassmen to come.

However, there are still paths available.

But if he could help Slytherin win the Quidditch Cup as the Seeker, the situation would be very different.