Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Henry didn't press for details, but Daphne and Pansy were clearly very interested in the matter.

"What else did Mr. Fudge ask?" they both asked in unison.

Draco shook his head: "That's all. My father just mentioned it casually and didn't say much more."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "However, he said that Fudge has been mentioning you quite often lately, on various occasions."

"In various situations?" Henry crossed his legs.

"Yes." Draco nodded. "My father attended a Ministry of Magic meeting, and afterwards some people were talking about you, and Fudge chimed in with a few words. He also mentioned you at some party."

Henry leaned back in his seat, his gaze fixed on the scenery rushing past the window.

Fudge's frequent public mentions of him were not simply a matter of attention, but rather a premeditated step, a prelude to some action he might take in the future.

If one day Fudge publicly tries to win him over, or invites him to participate in certain activities, no one will find it abrupt—because they have already heard Fudge mention him before.

This should be considered a kind of preparation, like boiling a frog in lukewarm water.

"Your Highness?" Daphne called softly.

Henry snapped out of his reverie and looked at her; the little girl's beautiful eyes were filled with deep worry.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Nothing much," Henry said with a smile. "I was just wondering what Mr. Fudge was going to do. Politicians never speak without reason."

As darkness fell, Pansy and Daphne began to discuss the clothes and accessories they had bought during the holidays.

Draco leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed, whether asleep or resting was unclear.

Crabbe and Gore had been fast asleep since they got on the bus, their snores rising and falling like two heavy bellows.

That's fine too. Living like this is actually quite good, without much trouble.

As the train was about to stop, Daphne finally couldn't hold back any longer.

"Your Highness," she said, "what were you thinking about just now? Were you thinking about Fudge?"

Henry smiled slightly and did not deny it.

"Yes," he said, "I'm wondering what he's trying to do."

"What do you think he's trying to do?" Pansy asked curiously.

"Win me over," Henry said, "or make it look like he's won me over."

Pansy didn't quite understand Henry's meaning: "What's the difference?"

“There’s a big difference,” Henry said. “He really tried to win me over, and I had to say something. He made me look like he had won me over, and I didn’t have to say anything, but that’s what people would think.”

Pansy and Daphne exchanged a glance and both showed expressions of disgust.

"Ugh... How insidious."

Henry smiled.

"That's politics," he said.

"I never want to get involved in politics in my life," Daphne said, shuddering. "The thought of it is terrifying."

Pansy nodded vigorously, while Crabbe and Gore looked dazed and sleepy.

politics?

For them, discussing politics was less important than discussing what delicious food Hogwarts would have tonight!

"I'm not opposed to it," Draco said with a smile. "As the heir to the Malfoy family, I can't escape politics... Your Highness, what do you think?"

Henry smiled, picked up his coat, and put it on.

"Then let me ask you, what is politics?"

The three looked at each other, puzzled. They knew the word, but not its specific meaning.

"Let me give you an example," Henry said with a smile when they couldn't answer. "For instance, if Pansy and Daphne want to go out to eat, Daphne likes French food, while Pansy prefers Italian cuisine, the process of you coordinating and agreeing on what to eat is called politics."

"Yeah, what are we eating?" Crabbe asked, looking confused, only to get punched by Draco.

"Actually, you don't need to demonize political science," Henry said. "Personally, I think political science is, in a way, like defense against black magic. People will come up with all sorts of ways to hurt each other, but political science isn't about doing that. It's about solving the problem of how people can get along well together."

"Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Pansy wondered thoughtfully.

Daphne showed some interest, but Draco's eyes lit up.

Chatting with His Highness is so educational!

The train began to slow down, and the night outside the window grew darker. In the distance, the lights of Hogwarts Castle were clearly visible on the hillside.

"So," Draco began slowly, "politics is like a defense against black magic—you have to figure out how to counter it before the other person makes their move?"

"You could say that," Henry nodded, "but not entirely. Politics is more like knowing someone is going to make a move, but you don't know what move they'll make, when they'll make it, or how hard they'll use it. So what you need to do isn't wait to take the hit, but to position yourself in a position where you can handle whatever move they make."

Draco frowned, clearly trying to process what he had just said.

Pansy whispered beside her, "That sounds exhausting."

Daphne nodded in agreement.

"It's quite tiring," Henry said with a smile. "So try to avoid it if you can. If you can't avoid it, then we'll figure something out."

"Can you hide now?" Daphne asked.

"Of course not, Daphne," Henry said with a smile. "I was born into a position destined to be in the spotlight. Some things that you can easily avoid are things that I have to face."

Daphne was a little worried. She pursed her lips but ultimately said nothing.

When they got off the train, the platform was crowded with people, clearly indicating that many people had chosen to go home for Christmas.

It was late January, after all, and the night wind was cold, making people shiver.

Henry followed the crowd along the steep path toward the castle.

Draco walked beside him, Pansy and Daphne followed behind, and Crabbe and Goyle lagged further back.

"Your Highness," Draco suddenly lowered his voice, "you just said that political science is like Defense Against the Dark Arts, does that mean we have to learn to protect ourselves?"

Henry glanced at him: "Pretty much, but politics isn't about using spells to protect yourself, it's about using your brain."

Draco let out a soft "Ah," then nodded thoughtfully, clearly understanding.

"So... if someone wants to harm you, how do you use your brain to protect yourself?" he asked.

Henry laughed: "Think about this first: Why would he want to harm you?"

Draco paused, then asked hesitantly, "Because...because I was in his way?"

"Yes. Then think about it, what path are you blocking for him?" Henry said. "Are you blocking his path to advancement, or are you blocking what he wants? Once you figure that out, you'll know how to deal with it."