Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Chapter 325 It's settled then.

"He's tricking the dragon into turning its head," Prince Philip said. "He wants the dragon to turn at the slowest angle possible."

"You can tell?" Dumbledore glanced at him.

"I am a marshal, I have seen a lot of flight training and related theories," Prince Philip said. "He is looking for the blind spot where the dragon turns its head."

Harry accelerated and swooped down during the dragon's turn, moving with incredible speed, like a bolt of lightning across the sky, towards the golden egg on the ground.

The Hungarian hornet spewed a ball of fire, almost chasing Harry's back.

Harry did a roll at the last minute—the kind of move you only see on the best Quidditch Seekers.

The broom tumbled around, and flames flew past his feet, exploding in a burst of intense red light where he had just passed.

Harry's feet touched the ground. He bent down, picked up the golden egg, and then pushed off again, taking off into the air.

The entire movement was clean and efficient, taking less than ten seconds.

Prince Philip stood up from his chair.

There was a moment of silence in the stands—as if everyone was processing what they had just witnessed. Then, a deafening roar erupted from the Gryffindor section of the stands; some were stomping their feet, others were chanting Harry's name.

Prince Philip turned to look at Dumbledore, his face showing undisguised admiration: "This boy is good."

"What do you think of his work?" Dumbledore asked.

"Cleaner than the others," said Prince Philip. "The girl and the boy both used magic against the dragon, and Cedric got burned. Only this child used skill; he completed the task with his own abilities, without harming the dragon or himself. That's the real competition."

He paused, then added, "And that roll of his—I've seen Henry do something similar in Quidditch training. But Henry has never done it in front of a dragon; that kid's braver than my grandson."

Dumbledore smiled slightly: "I thank you for your compliment on Harry's behalf."

"No need to thank him for me." Prince Philip sat down, leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixed on the figure riding a broomstick in the arena. "I'll speak to him myself."

"Harry Potter did it in three minutes!" Mr. Bagman's voice was filled with barely suppressed excitement. "Oh my God, the boy who survived, he's amazing!"

The Gryffindor district erupted in chaos. Ron jumped up from his seat, Hermione covered her mouth, and Fred and George were shouting, "Potter is one of us!"

In the Slytherin stands, some clapped, some just watched—but some nodded, as if to say that the action was indeed well done.

Henry leaned back in his seat, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Your Highness," Draco leaned closer, "Potter did indeed do it."

"I told you he could do it," Henry said.

"His Lansky feint is much better than it is in practice," Draco said. "The last time I saw him do that in practice, he almost fell off his broom."

"A big-game player," Henry said. "Some people perform averagely in practice, but excel in actual competitions. Harry is one of those players."

Theodore opened his notebook and quickly wrote a line.

"What are you writing down?" Draco asked.

"Take Porter's movement data," Theodore said. "His dive speed is about 15 percent faster than in a Quidditch match. His body reacts faster than usual during the game, which shows that he can perform beyond his usual level under high pressure."

"Are you doing academic research?"

"Hmm," Theodore said, "I find it very interesting."

Prince Philip stood up in the VIP section, brushed off non-existent dust from his robes, and then turned towards Henry, who was a few rows away. He nodded to Henry.

Henry saw the nod. He understood what it meant.

It seems Grandpa quite likes Harry.

Mr. Bagman walked to the high platform in the center of the arena and announced the final rankings of the first round.

The students in Beauxbatons were cheering for Fleur, while the students in Hufflepuff were applauding Cedric.

The Durmstrang students remained calm; no one showed disappointment or anger, after all, Viktor's score wasn't low either.

Harry was surrounded by the Gryffindor group, with Fred and George taking turns patting him on the shoulder, and Ron gesturing wildly as he spoke.

Hermione stood to the side, her face bearing her characteristic serious yet relaxed expression, as if she had finally witnessed the success of something she was certain would come to pass.

Prince Philip stepped down from the VIP section, walked through the crowd, and came to the Gryffindor area. He didn't go in, but simply stood on the perimeter and waved to Harry.

Harry paused for a moment, then squeezed through the crowd and walked up to Prince Philip.

"Uh—Your Highness?" Harry's voice sounded uncertain.

Prince Philip looked him over from head to toe and nodded approvingly.

"You did very well," he said. "I was sitting very high up and saw everything. Your flying skills are excellent, that roll—who taught you that?"

"I trained myself," Harry said, "in Quidditch training."

"You've trained very well," Prince Philip said. "Keep practicing. I'll be there to watch your next match."

Harry blinked. "You're coming?"

"Of course," Prince Philip patted Harry on the shoulder. "Keep it up."

He turned around, his gaze passing over the crowd to the two familiar red-haired heads of Gryffindor.

Fred and George were squeezed in the middle of the crowd, each raising a fist and shouting "Potter is one of us!" Their voices were so loud that they wanted the entire Forbidden Forest to hear them.

George noticed Prince Philip looking in their direction first and nudged Fred's arm.

The two fell silent at the same time, looked at each other, and then squeezed out of the crowd.

"Your Highness!" George's voice was filled with undisguised excitement. "You've come to watch the game too?"

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss such a lively event,” said Prince Philip. “But you two—” He looked the twins up and down, “you were shouting quite loudly just now; I could hear you from the VIP section.”

"That was just a normal way for us to express our support for our own Warriors," Fred said.

"Normal expression?" Prince Philip raised an eyebrow. "I'm sitting at least two hundred meters away from you, half the arena. If that's normal expression, then when you two are acting strangely, can the whole of Hogwarts hear it?"

George chuckled. "Your Highness, you don't know this, we call it being infectious. Our father always said, if you're going to do something, either don't do it at all, or do it in a way that everyone notices."

"Your father is quite interesting," Prince Philip said. "He still works at the Ministry of Magic?"

"Yes, it's still the Department for Prohibiting the Misuse of Muggle Articles," Fred said. "They deal with all sorts of troublesome things."

"So, do you think you two are the type who are easy to manage or not?"

Fred and George exchanged a glance.

"It's worry-free," Fred said.

"He's a handful," George said.

The two exchanged a glance.

"No, you should say he's a handful," Fred said.

"You should say it's worry-free," George said.

Prince Philip laughed heartily, his laughter echoing loudly in the afternoon stadium.

The surrounding Gryffindor students turned around to see what was making the royal family member smile so happily, and then they saw two redheads standing in front of him.

Ron, who was standing at the back of the crowd talking to Hermione, turned around when he was drawn by the laughter.

He saw Prince Philip standing in front of his two older brothers. He was taken aback for a moment, then hesitated and took two steps toward him. He wasn't sure whether to go over or not, because he felt that His Highness probably didn't remember who he was.

But Prince Philip saw him.

"Ron! You come here too." Prince Philip beckoned to him.

Ron paused for a moment—did he really remember me?

Without hesitation, he strode over and stood between Fred and George.

"Your Highness," Ron said, "do you remember me?"

"Of course I remember," Prince Philip said. "You're a fine young man, just a bit lacking in driving skills."

Ron blushed: "I practiced for several days after I got back."

"Has your motion sickness improved?" Prince Philip asked.

"Ah, that's much better." Ron's freckles even turned red.

The Gryffindor students around them started whispering among themselves. At first, it was just a few people peeking, then it became more than a dozen people openly craning their necks, and later half of the Gryffindor area was looking in their direction.

"Isn't that Ron Weasley?" a fourth-grade girl whispered. "Why is he standing with Prince Philip?"

"Are those two his brothers?" another girl said. "They seem to know His Highness the Prince?"

"I just heard His Highness laughing."

"You never would have guessed Ron knew such a powerful person."

"They're more than just acquaintances; the way they talk to each other is like they're old friends."

Simo moved closer and pretended to tie his shoelaces, but he didn't finish tying them even after two minutes.

Dean Thomas simply dropped the pretense and stood three steps away, listening openly.

Hermione stood at the edge of the crowd, watching Ron and Prince Philip talk.

Ron stood there, looking a little awkward, but overall he performed very well.

As a mother, the corners of her mouth unconsciously turned up.

Harry walked over and stood next to Hermione, his hands in his robe pockets, a maternal smile on his face, looking incredibly dashing.

"What are you laughing at?" Hermione asked him.

"I'm wondering what Ron is thinking right now," Harry said. "He's probably thinking, why are his two brothers having such a good time chatting with this old man, while he's just standing there as a background character and getting criticized for his driving skills."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh: "He said he went back and practiced for several days, do you believe him?"

"How can I not believe it? I saw it with my own eyes," Harry said. "But he was practicing sitting in the car without screaming, not practicing driving skills. He wasn't even driving the car."

Hermione imagined the scene and couldn't help but laugh.

Ron decided to change the subject: "Your Highness, how did you feel about the match today?"

"Very good," said Prince Philip. "Your Hogwarts champion certainly flies well; I admire him."

"Harry really can fly," Ron said. "He's our Gryffindor Seeker."

“I know,” Prince Philip said. “Harry told me that he has a certain talent for flying—although I’ve never seen him play Quidditch, his performance today proved that he wasn’t exaggerating; he is indeed very talented in flying.”

When Ron heard this, he felt a mix of emotions. He was happy that Harry had been recognized, but also a little envious of how Harry could be remembered wherever he went.

But he quickly suppressed his envy, because he felt that Harry truly deserved to be remembered.

"Your Highness," George leaned closer, "when will you be coming to Hogwarts again?"

"I don't know," said Prince Philip. "It depends on my wife's arrangements. She's been telling me to stay in London and not wander around."

""

"Your wife is quite strict," Fred said.

"She doesn't care about me," Prince Philip said, "but she does care about the newspapers. If she sees me in the Daily Prophet..."

She probably wouldn't be too happy to be on the flying car with two red-haired young men.

"Then next time we can fly higher so the newspapers can't take pictures," George said.

"Then it's a deal." Prince Philip's eyes lit up. "To be honest, the last car ride was really nice. I'd really like to experience what it feels like to fly higher—could it be as exhilarating as a fighter jet?"

"We've never been in a fighter jet before," Fred and George said in unison, but they clearly wanted to try it out.

"Then let's wait until you're on vacation," Prince Philip said generously. "You can take me for a ride in a flying car, and I'll take you to experience fighter jets, how about that?"

George and Fred exchanged a glance and smiled simultaneously.

"Then it's a deal!"

Lavender leaned closer to Hermione and whispered, "Hermione, does Ron really know Prince Philip?"

“Of course,” Hermione said, glancing at her. “He saw him when he went to Kensington Palace.”

"Kensington Palace?" Lavender asked, somewhat surprised. "Ron's been to Kensington Palace?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "His Highness Henry sometimes invites his friends over; Ron and Harry have both been a few times."

Lavender gasped. "So Ron not only knows Prince Philip, but he's also been to Kensington Palace? Why hasn't he ever mentioned it before?"

"Probably because he felt there wasn't much to say," Hermione said.

"Nothing to say?" Lavender's voice rose again. "That's Kensington Palace! It's home to members of the royal family! If he thinks there's nothing to say, then I really don't know what to say."

L