He poured himself some more tea and casually asked, “I imagine your families must have plenty of stories about the transmission of magical skills through the generations, don’t you? Not the grand history Professor Binns talks about, but more like the wisdom passed down beside the family fireplace.”
The topic was safe and perfectly suited to their interests.
Draco began describing some of the Malfoy family’s legends involving Potions and collecting, while Pansy interjected with a story about the Parkinson family having participated in a famous debate concerning the rights of magical creatures several centuries ago.
Henry listened attentively, asking questions at the appropriate moments and guiding them into revealing more about wizarding society.
The refreshments gradually disappeared, and the atmosphere relaxed amid the fragrance of black tea and restrained conversation.
Throughout the entire exchange, Henry carefully controlled the rhythm of the conversation.
He neither delved too deeply into sensitive blood-purity issues nor allowed the discussion to degenerate into shallow complaints.
He talked about the ghosts and portraits of Hogwarts, compared Hogsmeade with the countryside of the Muggle world, and even mentioned the differences between the scenery of Scotland and England.
When Pansy once again marveled at the exquisite design of one of the desserts, Henry gently placed his teacup down with the faintest clink, drawing their attention back to him.
“Actually,” he said calmly, “Hogwarts, and even the wizarding world as a whole, reminds me of some of the history I’ve read. Ancient families, long-standing traditions, carefully maintained rules… These are valuable assets. They are the foundations upon which power rests.”
Draco and Pansy both looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
“But history also teaches us that simply clinging to tradition isn’t enough. Sometimes, we need a new perspective. New connections.”
Henry’s gaze slowly swept over the two of them.
“Like this afternoon tea. It comes from my world, yet sharing it with you here, in the wizarding world, has its own charm. Different systems can coexist. They can even complement and strengthen one another.”
He paused, looking at the thoughtful Draco and the excitement shining in Pansy’s eyes.
“Slytherin values ambition and resources. But true resources may not consist solely of Galleons and ancient spellbooks. They can also include information, unique perspectives, and social connections beyond the ordinary.”
He said no more, but the meaning was already clear.
Draco slowly digested his words, while Pansy was already planning to write another letter to her father.
As the afternoon tea drew to a close, Henry gently shook an inconspicuous little silver bell on the table.
A moment later, several ordinary Hogwarts house-elves appeared.
They quietly and efficiently began clearing everything away.
The entire process was swift and silent, as though nothing had ever happened.
As they left the classroom, Pansy enthusiastically thanked Henry, and there was now genuine warmth in her eyes.
Draco walked alongside Henry for a short distance.
Just before they parted, he suddenly spoke again.
“That was a very interesting afternoon, Your Highness. Perhaps we could have conversations like this more often.”
“You’re always welcome.”
Henry smiled.
After they separated, Henry instructed Lucy to tidy up the room before returning to his dormitory and beginning to write letters to his family.
To my dearest Grandmother,
By the window of the Slytherin dungeon, Hogwarts Castle
I hope that by the time this letter reaches you, the gardens of Buckingham Palace will still be basking in the gentle warmth of the autumn sunlight.
Mercury—you remember, the snowy owl who always looks as though he is contemplating philosophy—seems to enjoy crossing the lake from here to deliver my letters.
The task makes him look even more solemn than he does when eating nuts.
At the Sorting Ceremony, I was placed in Slytherin, a house that places great importance on honor and bloodline. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Of course, it has also produced many outstanding wizards.
Apparently, Merlin himself was a graduate of this house.
Life at Hogwarts really is as Professor Dumbledore described it: full of wonderful surprises.
The castle itself is like a magical creature that breathes.
The staircases frequently change direction according to their own whims, while the people in the portraits not only visit one another and chat, but also comment on students’ clothing.
I have to remain vigilant at all times lest, while searching for a classroom, I be mocked by a knight in a painting for having a sense of direction inferior even to that of a troll.
As for my classes, Professor Binns’s History of Magic is enough to put even the most energetic person to sleep.
Then again, I suppose we cannot ask too much of him, considering that he is a ghost!
By comparison, the Herbology theory class I attended with Ravenclaw was much more interesting.
Professor Sprout is very kind, and the magical plant illustrations she brought with her were remarkably vivid.
As for Potions and Charms, those classes don’t begin until tomorrow, and I am already looking forward to them.
However, the most noteworthy matter I have to report to you isn’t my classes, but an experimental afternoon tea.
This afternoon, after being subjected to Professor Binns’s History of Magic lesson alongside two Slytherin students, Mr.
Draco Malfoy and Miss Pansy Parkinson, I invited them to share some refreshments with me in a quiet empty classroom in the castle.
You once taught me that in an unfamiliar environment, maintaining familiar rituals can provide stability and an invisible standard of measure.
I have kept those words firmly in mind.
Please allow me to thank you once again for your thoughtful and generous arrangements.
The assistance provided by Lucy, the house-elf assigned to me by Headmaster Dumbledore, was impeccable.
She ensured that a simple afternoon tea possessed the appropriate sense of ceremony.
The effect was rather interesting.
Mr.
Malfoy initially found it difficult to conceal his surprise.
He is familiar with the convenience and spectacle provided by magic, but he has clearly had little exposure to the weight carried by the rituals of another system.
Miss Parkinson was more sensitive to the details.
Everything from the glaze of the bone china to the recipe for the scones fascinated her.
We discussed the house, our classes, and family histories—of course, only what they were willing to share and nothing involving sensitive matters—as well as the similarities and differences between Hogwarts and the English countryside.
I tried to convey the following impression: I respect their traditions and rules, which is something Slytherin values tremendously.
At the same time, I bring a different perspective that may complement their own.
I spoke about the possibility of combining ancient traditions with new perspectives.
Judging from their reactions, the message seems to have been received.
It may even have been interpreted a little too enthusiastically.
There was a glimmer in Miss Parkinson’s eyes resembling someone who has just discovered an exciting new investment opportunity, while Mr.
His expression contained curiosity, evaluation, and a trace of stubborn fascination with something unfamiliar that he was unwilling to reveal.
This is only the beginning, Grandmother.
I am playing a slow game of chess.
My first move is merely to place the pieces on the board.
Slytherin believes in strength and self-interest.
Pure friendliness is meaningless here.
The other side must be shown where the value lies.
The afternoon tea was my first demonstration of that value—not Galleons, but refinement, information channels, and a form of social capital beyond their everyday experience.
Miss Gemma Farley, our prefect, is a capable young woman.
For now, she is still observing me.
That is a good thing.
It means she is sufficiently cautious.
Please do not worry about me.
I am adapting very well here, and am even rather comfortable.
Theodore Nott, my roommate, is a quiet young man who is observant and enjoys reading.
We share an unspoken understanding that neither of us will disturb the other, which suits me perfectly.
The classes are certainly unusual, but they are also quite challenging.
Have William and Harry caused any new trouble?
Give my regards to their mischievous little faces and tell them that their brother is learning how to make teacups float by themselves.
Perhaps that will keep them quiet for five minutes.
My deepest love to Great-Grandmother.
I hope she remains in perfect health for many years to come.
Please also convey my thoughts to Father and Mother.
Tell them that I am perfectly well and studying diligently—including learning how to politely interact with a talking snake statue.
With everlasting love,
Your devoted and longing grandson,
Henry
He didn’t write only one copy.
His parents received one as well.
By the time he finished, Henry’s hand felt sore.
Sigh…