Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Henry looked at his grandmother, Elizabeth, who was listening quietly with no expression on her face.

Diana looked at her son, the worry in her eyes not completely gone, but gradually replaced by a mixture of shock and pride and even more complex and indescribable emotions.

She suddenly realized that the little boy in her arms, who needed her protection, was transforming at an alarming rate into a prince who needed to shoulder the responsibilities of his family and country. She could no longer simply treat him as a child to shelter.

Charles, legs crossed, slowly began, "You've thought very far ahead, Henry. But the risks involved..."

“Risks always exist, Father,” Henry continued. “Staying in Buckingham Palace carries risks as well. The difference is that the risks in the magical world are unknown, but the potential rewards are also unprecedented. If we give up this opportunity out of fear of the unknown, then centuries later, our descendants may blame us for retreating out of cowardice when history presented the monarchy with a crucial opportunity to expand its influence.”

He looked at the Queen again and bowed slightly: "Of course, all of this is predicated on your approval and support, Grandmother. My primary identity is that of your subject, and any action I take must conform to the overall interests of the Royal Family and your will."

The study fell silent again, and everyone's eyes were on Queen Elizabeth II behind the desk.

The Queen remained silent for a long time. Finally, she raised her eyes and slowly swept her gaze over her son, daughter-in-law, and husband, before finally fixing it on her grandson's face, which bore a striking resemblance to King George VI.

“Responsibility,” she said clearly, “you understand it very well, Henry. The weight of the crown lies in this—it forces you to see what others cannot see and to take on choices that others do not have to.”

She nodded slightly and made the final decision.

"I support your going to Hogwarts, according to the plan agreed upon with Headmaster Dumbledore. I also agree with your idea. But remember,"

Her tone became unquestionable.

"Safety is the bottom line. Your primary task is to return unharmed. No strategic consideration can supersede this. Understand?"

"I understand completely, Grandma." Henry nodded solemnly.

"As for you, Diana," the Queen turned to her daughter-in-law, her tone softening, "I know this is hard to accept. But Henry's path has been laid, and all we can do is prepare him and trust his judgment and courage. He needs our trust, just as this family needs his responsibility."

Diana's eyes were slightly red, but she straightened her back, nodded vigorously, and gripped Charles's hand tightly.

Prince Philip finally snorted, walked over to Henry, and patted his grandson's shoulder forcefully: "Well said, lad. Act like a man!"

……

In the days that followed, everything seemed to return to normal.

In addition to studying the Muggle world's lessons every day, Henry also had to preview spells.

His day usually begins at 6:30 in the morning in a private sitting room in a side wing of Buckingham Palace, where he has not only oatmeal and juice in front of him, but also an open copy of "Standard Spells: Elementary".

Mornings are usually Muggle class time: history, literature, mathematics, etc., tutored by private tutors; during breaks, he may be summoned to accompany his grandmother Elizabeth on some light official duties, such as visiting the preview of a charity art exhibition, meeting a decorated veteran in the garden, or fulfilling royal duties by appearing on television.

On these occasions, he was "Prince Henry," with a proper smile and impeccable manners.

Because of his precocious intelligence, and more importantly because he looked very much like his great-grandfather, George VI, who led Britain to victory in World War II, the people liked him very much, which led to Henry's high popularity.

After lunch, and a brief respite, it was time for magic practice.

He hid in his study, repeatedly studying the basic chapters on magic channeling in "Theory of Magic," clumsily and awkwardly copying the runic alphabet with a quill pen rather than a fountain pen or ballpoint pen.

After all, Hogwarts uses quills, so it's good to be familiar with them beforehand.

He tried the levitation spell, upgrading the target from a feather to a pen cap, succeeding a few times and creating a few minor accidents that his servants had to pretend not to see.

Sir Arnold's background summary, sent via encrypted mail, was also included. The content was dry but extremely informative, such as the fact that a certain Ministry of Magic official's Muggle spouse's family had investments in the textile industry, or that a pure-blood family had a lawsuit with a Muggle nobleman in the 18th century over a land dispute.

These seemingly unrelated fragments were meticulously recorded by Henry in another notebook.

Evenings sometimes belonged to the family. William and Harry would come running over, pestering him with questions like, "How's your magic practice going?" Henry would often perform the simplest glowing charm, causing a steady halo to emanate from the tip of his wand, which was enough to leave his two brothers in awe for a long time.

Diana would come to say goodnight, pat his hair, and ask if he was tired, the worry in her eyes gradually replaced by a pride she tried to hide.

Charles would occasionally take a walk with him, and they might talk about environmental protection, or he might suddenly ask a question like, "Do you think the wizards have any solutions for climate change?"

The questions were far-fetched, but Henry knew his cheap father was trying to understand the potential value of that world.

On weekends, he would be driven to Windsor Castle to visit his great-grandmother, Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother.

The old lady is ninety years old, but she is in good spirits and especially loves her great-grandson who has been exceptionally intelligent since childhood.

Sitting in the sun-drenched living room, surrounded by the aroma of tea and the sweet scent of cake, the Queen Mother would listen to him recount with great enthusiasm the fun and frustrations of his magic practice, his grey-blue eyes full of laughter.

"Oh, my dear, this is wonderful!" she would pat Henry's hand in praise, the old-fashioned ring on his finger sparkling slightly. "When I was little, I read fairy tales and always thought how wonderful it would be if they were real. I never imagined that my little Henry would actually go to such a place! Remember, no matter what interesting tricks you learn, you must come back and perform them for your great-grandmother."

She never inquired about the details, nor did she show any concern; she simply offered him the purest support with the magnanimity that comes with having weathered the storms of the century.

On one occasion, she even mysteriously took an old-fashioned brooch inlaid with gemstones from a small drawer and handed it to Henry: "Wear this, darling. Old things sometimes bring good luck. This is from the Victorian era."

Henry accepted it solemnly, knowing that it had nothing to do with magic, but rather with inheritance and blessing.

Time slips away quietly in the warm daily routine of family life, while the start of the school year draws ever closer on the calendar.

Finally, September 1st arrived.