Draco lowered his head, his expression growing contemplative.
After a moment, he looked up. "What if I block Fudge's way?"
Henry met his gaze and suddenly laughed. "What could a first-year student possibly block that would concern him?"
Draco laughed as well, the tension easing. "True. That's rather unlikely."
The group reached the castle gates, where the massive oak doors stood wide open. Henry stepped into the foyer, and the familiar warmth instantly dispelled the lingering chill from his journey.
The space was crowded with students, their voices creating a cacophony of noise, some searching for friends, others lamenting how briefly their holiday had lasted, still others discussing what dinner might offer.
"Henry!"
Harry squeezed through the crowd with Ron and Hermione close behind him. He grinned widely with unguarded enthusiasm.
"How was your holiday?" Harry asked.
"Not bad," Henry replied. "What about you three?"
"Pretty good!" Harry said. "Ron and I stayed at school through Christmas, didn't we, Ron?"
"Yeah," Ron confirmed, then hesitated. "Harry even found this mirror in an abandoned classroom on the second floor and visited it for several nights running..." He suddenly seemed to realize he was revealing something he shouldn't have shared in front of Henry, and he smiled sheepishly.
Henry recognized the reference immediately. Ron was almost certainly referring to the Mirror of Erised. It appeared that Dumbledore's plans were already in motion, though Henry remained uncertain what precisely Dumbledore intended.
He found himself genuinely curious about what he would see if he looked into that mirror. Would it show him on a golden throne of power? Or something else entirely?
"I wanted to thank you for the gift, Henry," Harry said somewhat shyly. "I never expected to receive a formal gift from the royal family for Christmas. Good heavens, if my uncle knew, he'd be absolutely furious with jealousy!"
Henry merely smiled slightly and offered no additional comment. The Dursleys' situation was their private family matter, not his concern.
More importantly, genuine help should never come with expected gratitude; true favor only emerged when someone actively requested assistance.
The group continued chatting as they walked toward the Great Hall. Passing through the foyer, Henry observed Filch scolding a first-year student in a corner.
Mrs. Norris crouched at his feet, her cat-like eyes fixed intently on the terrified child, occasionally panting heavily into his face.
"No running in the hallways!" Filch snapped sharply. "Next time I catch you, you won't get off so easily!"
The child nodded frantically in response. Judging from his robes, he belonged to Hufflepuff house.
Henry looked away and continued walking.
Draco whispered beside him. "That old Filch does nothing but catch people."
"He has his job to perform," Henry said, neither confirming nor dismissing Draco's assessment.
Inside the Great Hall, all four house tables were already filled with students. Floating candles flickered beneath the ceiling, illuminating the entire space with warm, golden light. Henry took his seat at the Slytherin table, with Draco and the others settling beside him.
Pansy immediately began complaining. "The holidays were far too short! I haven't had nearly enough enjoyment."
Daphne spoke softly, her tone thoughtful. "I think it was good timing. It's pleasant to be back at school."
Pansy shot her a reproachful look. "You're strange."
Daphne simply smiled without retaliating.
Henry glanced up toward the faculty table. Dumbledore occupied the center position, engaged in conversation with Professor McGonagall.
He wore a gold bow tie adorning his beard that evening and appeared to be in exceptionally good spirits.
Professor Snape sat at the far end, his expression gloomy as he stared fixedly in a particular direction, Henry followed the line of his gaze to the Gryffindor table, where Harry was conversing with Ron.
Professor Quirrell sat nearby, wrapped in his characteristic large purple scarf, his face noticeably paler than it had been before the holidays. He kept his head deliberately lowered, seeming to avoid catching anyone's gaze.
Henry glanced briefly in Quirrell's direction, then quickly looked away. Stay away. Some entanglements simply weren't worth pursuing.
Dinner proved as abundant as always, though Henry ate considerably less than the other students, maintaining his usual restrained appetite. Beside him, Draco picked at a piece of steak, his mind clearly occupied elsewhere.
"Your Highness," Draco suddenly spoke, "may I ask another question about what you said earlier regarding politics?"
Henry continued slowly cutting the food before him. "Go ahead."
Draco hesitated, clearly selecting his words with care. "You said politics is about how different people can coexist. What happens if some people simply refuse to get along?"
Henry smiled at the question. "Then they don't need to be together."
Draco looked taken aback. "Don't need to be together?"
"That's correct," Henry said. "Not everyone must become friends. The purpose of politics is to allow different people to coexist peacefully, not to force universal affection. If you truly cannot get along with someone, simply maintain your distance. As long as neither party harms the other, that arrangement is perfectly acceptable."
Draco's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "But what if they want to harm you?"
"Then let them fail," Henry replied calmly. "That's what I meant earlier about protecting yourself."
He had originally considered saying something far more direct, that such people should be dealt with permanently, but remembering this was Hogwarts and Draco was still quite young, he decided against voicing that particular thought.
Draco nodded slowly, absorbing the concept.
Pansy interjected abruptly. "Your Highness, who taught you all of this?"
"No one taught me," Henry chuckled. "I figured it out myself through observation and experience."
Pansy's eyes widened with clear disbelief. "You figured this out yourself? You're only eleven!"
Henry smiled, correcting her gently. "I'm twelve now, actually. And age doesn't prevent one from thinking. Even at eleven, the mind is capable of understanding such concepts."
Pansy and Daphne exchanged a complicated glance between them. The differences between people sometimes seemed greater than the differences between a person and a Flobberworm.
In Henry's presence, they felt rather like simple Flobberworms, possessed of minimal awareness and capable only of basic growth.
Draco observed from the side, speaking with quiet certainty. "His Highness is genuinely different from the rest of us."
After dinner concluded, the students departed the Great Hall and made their way back to their respective common rooms. In the corridor, Daphne asked softly, "Your Highness, would you care for some tea?"
Henry glanced at her with a slight smile. "We already had tea with dinner."
"Then..." Daphne hesitated, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "Would you perhaps like something else? I brought some pastries from home."
Henry nodded in acceptance. "That sounds pleasant."
The group settled into the common room and arranged themselves by the fireplace. Daphne rummaged through her suitcase and withdrew a delicate little box.
Upon opening it, she revealed an assortment of pastries in various shapes, some fashioned like stars, others like moons, and several shaped cleverly like the Golden Snitch.
"My mother made these," Daphne said somewhat shyly, a faint blush still visible on her cheeks. "She asked me to bring homemade treats to share with friends."
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Early chapters: [email protected]/palevolt100