Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

After hearing Henry's description, the twins exchanged a glance.

"A Corgi," Fred said thoughtfully, "sixty-five years old... doesn't like waste..."

His eyes suddenly lit up.

"Do you have a way to get Corgi fur?"

Henry thought for a moment and realized that the one thing his house had in abundance was all the fur from his corgis.

He nodded: "It should be possible."

“You don’t need to buy anything,” George chimed in immediately, working seamlessly with Fred. “Go to a pet store or find a friend who owns a corgi—oh wait, you probably have quite a few corgis at home, right? Collect some of their fur. We have a special glass jar here; just shake it and the corgi fur inside will assemble into a mini corgi… Remember to have it washed clean and labeled ‘Spare Corgi’.”

"To prevent wear and tear on the current Corgi's parts," Fred added.

George immediately said, "Or 'Assemble your own Corgi—add your love according to the instructions.'"

Fred quickly chimed in: "There's a smiling corgi drawn on the outside of the jar, pointing to the label and saying, 'I'm cracked, please put me back together.'"

The two of them kept talking and laughing, their jokes getting more and more outrageous, until they both ended up leaning back in their chairs, laughing so hard they couldn't stand up straight.

Henry didn't smile; he figured his grandmother would definitely like the gift.

It's not only fun, but also quite thoughtful.

He picked up a quill and carefully wrote on a blank piece of parchment on the table:

Grandma - Spare Corgi Can (Requires collecting dog hair)

Fred's laughter stopped abruptly.

"...Are you serious?"

"Very serious." Henry said without looking up. "Next... my mother's gift."

"Your mother?" Fred looked up and thought for a moment. "What are her hobbies?"

Henry briefly described Diana's personality traits and preferences, and Fred and George exchanged a glance.

"How about giving her a coloring book?" George suddenly said. "Not a regular coloring book. The kind where when you open it, the lines inside automatically twist and run away, hiding themselves on the next page. You have to use a wand or your finger to trace them and bring them back to color."

“We made one for Ginny last year,” Fred added, unusually without a grin, “with a cat pattern. Every time she colored, the cat would jump out of the grid and hide on another page.”

George nodded: "I think your mother would like this gift."

Henry wrote it down.

……

By the end of the tea party, the parchment was covered with densely packed small writing.

Fred stood up, stretched, and his gaze fell on the notebook filled with writing in front of Henry.

"Seriously," he said, unusually serious, "your family is really interesting."

"The rules were set by my grandmother." Henry closed the notebook.

"So you can only deliver cheap stuff?" George raised an eyebrow. "And it has to be... uh, the weirder the better?"

"Yes," Henry said. "I don't know why there's such a rule, but it's fine."

As he spoke, he asked again, "When can you deliver the goods? Can you do it before I leave school tomorrow?"

"Don't worry," Fred gave him a reassuring look, "Leave it to us, we'll deliver on time tonight—"

Henry took out the wallet with the Unseen Stretch Charm from his pocket, took out ten Galleons, stacked them on the table, and pushed them in front of the two of them.

"This is the deposit," he said.

"Too much, too much," George waved his hands repeatedly. "Honestly, those canary cookies only cost a few chips, and the jar is practically worthless..."

"But labor has value, and knowledge is priceless," Henry said with a smile. "After the delivery, I'll pay you another forty gallons—don't rush to refuse. I hope you can develop some more novel and quirky gadgets. After all, there will be countless Christmases in the future where I'll need your help to make some unusual gifts, won't there?"

These words were very pleasing, acknowledging the twins' hard work while giving them an irresistible reason to refuse.

"Very well, then we'll accept it," Fred finally said. "Thank you for your generosity, Your Highness."

"Just call me Henry." Henry smiled very amiably.

After Fred and George left the empty classroom on the second floor, Henry sat alone at the table and slowly finished the remaining half cup of tea.

Lucy appeared silently and began clearing away the dishes. Her small hands nimbly swept across the table, and the white porcelain teawares, as if under a silent spell, were neatly stacked and disappeared into thin air.

“Your Highness,” Lucy whispered, “those two Weasleys… I know them. They often sneak into the kitchen at night to steal snacks.”

"Um."

"But they never waste food, nor do they bully house-elves." Lucy paused. "They may play some pranks sometimes, but they're not bad."

Henry put down his teacup and glanced at Lucy.

"I know."

Lucy bowed and then vanished with a snap.

Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor Tower.

Fred and George practically floated into the common room, their faces beaming as if they'd won the grand prize, startling Ron, who was sitting by the fireplace playing wizard chess with Harry.

"Are you two under a soul-stealing curse?" he asked.

"Better than the Imperius Curse." Fred plopped down in the armchair next to Ron, his eyes gleaming. "We've received our first official order."

Ron looked at them both as if they were ghosts.

"...What order?"

George sat down as well, lowering his voice: "The Prince of Wales commissioned us to develop Christmas gifts; it's a business collaboration, and there's a deposit."

He took the ten Galleons out of his pocket and laid them out in a neat stack in front of Ron.

Ron stared at the pile of Galleons, his expression like he'd just swallowed a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean that tasted like earwax.

"...You guys actually made Christmas presents for Slytherin?"

“It’s not for Slytherin,” Fred corrected, “it’s for Henry Welsh.”

"Is there a difference?" Ron asked, looking incredulous. "Don't you all hate Slytherins the most?"

"Oh, of course, little Ronnie." George was unusually serious. "He's not 'Slytherin,' he's Wells. Just like Harry isn't 'Gryffindor,' he's Harry."

Ron opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but found he couldn't find the right words.

It seems that Henry is indeed different from the other Slytherins.

He eventually chose to shut up and get back into the game of chess with Harry.

Fred and George exchanged a glance, tacitly agreeing not to provoke their brother any further.

After all, they still need to rush to finish the work.