Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Draco lowered his head, as if he were thinking.

After a while, he asked, "What if I block Fudge's way?"

Henry looked at him and suddenly laughed.

"What can you, a first-year student, possibly do to block his way?"

Draco smiled too.

"That's true," he said casually.

The group arrived at the castle gate, where the huge oak door was wide open. Henry stepped into the foyer, and the familiar warmth immediately enveloped him, dispelling the chill he had felt along the way.

The lobby was packed with students, a cacophony of voices—some were looking for their friends, some were complaining about how short the holiday was, and some were discussing what the dinner party would be like that night.

"Henry!"

Harry pushed his way through the crowd, followed by Ron and Hermione.

"How was your holiday?" Harry asked, grinning like a rich man's silly son.

"Not bad," Henry said. "How about you guys?"

"That's great!" Harry said. "Ron and I were at school the whole Christmas season, right, Ron?"

"Yes," Ron said. "Harry also encountered a mirror in an abandoned classroom on the second floor, and went to look at it for several nights in a row..."

At this point, he suddenly felt it wasn't right to expose Harry in front of Henry, so he smiled sheepishly.

Henry knew that Ron was referring to the Mirror of Erised, and it seemed that Professor Dumbledore's Sunflower Mother Class had already begun.

He was actually quite curious about what he would see if he looked in the mirror.

Will we see him sitting on a high golden throne?

"I want to thank you for the gift, Henry," Harry said somewhat shyly. "I never imagined I'd receive a formal gift from the royal family for Christmas—good heavens, if my uncle knew, he'd be insanely jealous!"

Henry simply smiled and didn't say anything more.

The Dursleys' affairs were their family matters and had nothing to do with Henry.

Besides, offering to help others solve their problems is not something a normal person should do. You can only gain gratitude and favors when others make a request.

As they chatted, they walked toward the auditorium. As they passed the foyer, Henry saw Filch scolding a first-year student in a corner. Mrs. Lorris was squatting at his feet, her cat-like eyes fixed on the poor child, occasionally circling her head and breathing out warm air.

"No running in the hallway!" Filch snapped, "If I catch you next time, it won't be so easy!"

The child nodded repeatedly in fright; judging from his clothes, they must be Hufflepuff.

Henry looked away and continued walking.

Draco muttered to himself, "That old Squib, all he does is arrest people all day."

"He has his own job too," Henry said, neither affirming nor denying the behavior.

The option is "or".

Inside the auditorium, the four long tables of the college were already full of people.

The floating candles swayed under the ceiling, casting a warm and bright glow throughout the hall.

Henry sat down at the Slytherin table, and Draco and the others sat down beside him.

As soon as Pansy sat down, she started complaining, "The holiday was too short, I haven't had enough fun yet."

Daphne said softly, "I think it's great, I can come back to class."

Pansy glared at her.

"You're a weirdo."

Daphne smiled and didn't refute.

Henry looked up at the faculty seating area.

Dumbledore sat in the center, talking to Professor McGonagall beside him. He wore a gold bow tie on his beard and seemed to be in a good mood.

Professor Snape sat at the other end, staring gloomily in a certain direction—Henry followed his gaze and saw the Gryffindor long table, where Harry was talking to Ron.

Professor Quirrell was also there, wrapped in that large purple scarf, his face even paler than before the holiday.

He kept his head down, as if avoiding someone's gaze.

Henry glanced at Quirrell before quickly looking away.

Please don't get involved.

Dinner was as plentiful as usual, but Henry ate very little compared to his classmates who wolfed down their food, as he always did.

Draco stood nearby, poking at a piece of steak, lost in thought.

"Your Highness," he suddenly spoke, "may I ask one more question about what you were saying about politics earlier?"

Henry slowly and methodically cut the food in front of him.

"Ask away."

Draco considered his words carefully, then asked hesitantly, "You said politics is about solving the problem of how people can get along well. But what if some people simply don't want to get along well?"

Henry laughed and said, "Then we don't have to be together."

Draco was taken aback: "Don't we need to be together?"

“Yes,” Henry said. “Not everyone has to be a friend. The purpose of politics is to allow different people to coexist, not for everyone to love each other. If you really can’t get along with someone, then keep your distance. As long as they don’t harm you and you don’t harm them, that’s fine.”

Draco frowned.

"What if he wants to harm you?"

"Then let him... let him not be able to harm us," Henry said. "That's what we talked about before—protecting yourself."

He had intended to suggest planting the man in the ground, but considering that this was Hogwarts and Draco was still young, he decided against it.

Draco nodded thoughtfully.

Pansy chimed in from the side, "Your Highness, who taught you all this?"

"Nobody taught me," Henry said with a smile. "I figured it out myself, I saw it for myself."

Pansy's eyes widened like saucers, somewhat incredulous.

"You came up with that yourself? You're only eleven!"

Henry smiled and corrected her, saying, "You can think about things at eleven, and besides, you're twelve now."

Pansy and Daphne exchanged a glance, their expressions somewhat complicated.

The difference between people can be greater than that between a person and a florid caterpillar.

In Henry's presence, they felt like carefree florid caterpillars, only knowing how to pupa.

Draco, standing nearby, said, "His Highness is different from us."

After dinner, the students left the auditorium and returned to their respective common rooms.

"Your Highness," Daphne asked softly, "would you like some tea?"

Henry glanced at her: "I already had dinner."

"How about... something else?" Daphne asked a little shyly. "I brought some snacks from home."

Henry nodded and replied, "Alright."

Several people went into the common room and sat down by the fireplace.

Daphne pulled a delicate little box out of her suitcase, opened it, and inside were various shapes of pastries—some were star-shaped, some were moon-shaped, and a few were shaped like golden spies.

"My mom made this," Daphne said a little shyly. "She said she wanted to bring her friends a taste of home."

(An extra chapter, please click to follow and vote with monthly tickets, I'm begging you all)

(I created a group where you can join by casting a monthly vote. I still need to set some requirements, otherwise there will always be those who play games or eat cereal...)