Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Upon hearing this question, Henry fell into deep thought.

After a long pause, he slowly spoke.

"Should we make this collaboration public and transparent?" he tried to say. "Let everyone know that this is just a normal, public collaboration, not a private transaction."

Arnold's eyes lit up slightly as he looked at Henry.

"Okay, so how exactly does it work?"

"For example..." Henry said slowly and carefully, "We can mention this collaboration in the official charitable report of the Royal Family, invite representatives of the Ministry of Magic to participate in public charitable events, and let the media report on it—but not the kind of report about private talks between the Royal Family and the Ministry of Magic, but the kind of positive news about the Royal Family's charitable foundation cooperating with the Ministry of Magic to help accident victims, so that the right of interpretation is in our hands."

Arnold nodded approvingly: "Good, Mr. Fudge got what he wanted, which is your cooperation with him; but you also protected yourself because everything was open, transparent, and normal. If anyone questions your stance, you can bring up those news reports and say you were just doing charity work and had nothing to do with anyone else."

Next, Sir Arnold began a simulation exercise with Henry, from inviting him to events to collaborating on charitable causes, from subtle hints of belittling Dumbledore to direct questions. Sir Arnold repeatedly used various methods to win Henry over, guiding him to find the path of accepting without taking sides.

He truly devoted himself to teaching Henry, wishing he could break down and dissect all the concepts Henry proposed so that Henry could fully understand them.

"That answer was too blunt. Try a different approach."

"That's a very good phrase, remember it."

"When he belittles Dumbledore, do not defend him or agree with him. State some facts, but show that you are not involved in his discussion."

"...Okay, that's good. You didn't side with Dumbledore to defend him, nor did you side with Fudge to agree with him. You were just stating the facts."

After finishing his teaching duties, Arnold closed his folder and leaned back on the sofa.

"Your Highness," he said, "that's all for today."

Henry paused for a moment.

"But, Sir, there's also..."

"There's more, but that's enough for today," Arnold interrupted him. "You need time to digest this. These skills aren't something you can learn in one go; you need to practice slowly, think slowly, and gradually make them your own."

He stood up and picked up his briefcase.

"Your Highness, you've learned very quickly today. Faster than I expected," he said, looking at Henry. "But remember, these are just techniques. The true path is your own judgment. When to be ambiguous, when to be honest, when to accept, and when to refuse—there are no standard answers to these."

He paused for a moment at this point.

You can only rely on yourself.

Henry stood up and extended his hand.

"Sir," he shook hands with Sir Arnold, "thank you."

Arnold smiled and shook his head.

"No need to thank me. You're the one who's good at learning. And to be honest, teaching you is much more interesting than teaching those cabinet ministers."

Henry was amused; this was the first time he had ever heard someone from the civil service complain about a minister.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because they always think they know everything." Arnold smiled. "You're different. You know what you don't know, and that's more important than anything else."

After Sir Arnold left, Henry stood alone in his study, staring blankly at the wall.

It must be said that Arnold was a qualified teacher who taught him a great deal.

Hey.

A long way to go!

During dinner, William and Harry were still discussing the snowman.

"Let's build another one tomorrow!" William said, "and bigger than this one!"

"Great!" Harry raised both hands in agreement. "This time, I'll use your scarf!"

William frowned and refused to continue.

"Why are you using mine?"

"Because Henry said we can't use his," Harry said, hands on his hips, sounding perfectly justified.

"But you can't use mine!" William was clearly still reluctant.

"Then use Mom's!" Harry said, shifting his focus when William refused.

Diana coughed beside her.

"Use mine? Then I won't knit sweaters for you anymore."

William and Harry exchanged a glance and quickly reached a consensus.

"...Then let's use Dad's."

Charles looked up from behind the newspaper and stared at them expressionlessly.

"...Are you serious?"

William and Harry nodded vigorously.

Charles was silent for a moment, then looked up at Diana, and then at Henry, who was pretending to look around at the scenery.

Finally, he sighed, and for the first time ever, showed a fatherly side, conceding, "My scarf is in the closet, get it yourself."

William and Harry cheered and rushed up the stairs, while Diana watched their retreating figures, laughing uncontrollably.

Soon, the holiday came to an end, and on the morning of the return to school, Sandringham House was exceptionally quiet in the morning light.

Henry stood in the doorway carrying his dark leather suitcase, with Diana standing beside him, looking somewhat reluctant to leave; Charles stood on the other side, holding a newspaper, but his gaze remained fixed on his son.

William and Harry squeezed into the doorway, their eyes sparkling.

"Henry," William asked, "when are you coming back?"

"Summer vacation," Henry said. "I'll be back then."

How long is summer vacation?

"...about five months."

William frowned and started counting on his fingers, but after a long time he still didn't seem to understand.

In mathematics, it has a tendency to be somewhat like burning books and burying scholars alive.

Harry tugged at his sleeve: "How many days are five months?"

"I don't know," William answered honestly.

"Then how will we know when we'll arrive?" Harry pressed on.

"We'll find out when Henry gets back," William said.

Harry thought about it and found the logic reasonable, so he nodded.

Diana smiled, reached out, and gently patted Henry's head.

"Be careful on the road," she said.

"Yes, Mom," Henry said.

"Eat well at school," Diana continued to instruct.

"Yes."

Don't overwork yourself.

"...Yes, it will."

Charles walked over, reached out, and patted Henry on the shoulder.

"write a letter."

"Yes, Father."

Henry turned and walked toward the car waiting outside.

The driver was already waiting by the car. When he saw Henry, he bowed slightly and opened the car door for him.

Henry looked back once before getting into the car.

Diana stood in the doorway, smiling broadly; Charles stood beside her, the newspaper in his hand slightly curled by the wind; William and Harry were still huddled in the doorway, their eyes sparkling.

He waved, and William and Harry waved back frantically.

Then he got into the car and closed the door.

The car slowly drove out of the manor gate and headed towards London.