Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

"Wells? I don't recall any pure-blood families having that surname." Draco's eyebrows furrowed. "It seems this is actually a country, right?"

"In fact," Henry picked up a napkin, dabbed it on his lips slowly, and began elegantly and gently, "that was my father's fiefdom."

Draco blinked his gray eyes, his brows not relaxing, but rather furrowing even more in confusion.

He was clearly searching through the pure-blood registers and British aristocratic lineages he had been taught since childhood.

"A fiefdom? You mean... a territory? A Muggle noble's?"

His tone didn't immediately reveal the contempt often associated with the word "Muggle," but rather pure curiosity and an eagerness to categorize the other person.

Henry picked up his wine glass, took a sip of water, his movements natural and elegant, with a grace that Draco was very familiar with yet seemed even more natural.

"You could say that," he replied ambiguously, with the casualness of discussing the weather. "It's just an old custom."

He calmly met Draco's scrutiny. Indeed, there was nothing wrong with it; the title of Prince of Wales was indeed bestowed upon his father according to ancient custom.

This answer, along with Henry's behavior, clearly left Draco somewhat uncertain.

He had met his Muggle-born classmates, such as the loud and talkative Gryffindor know-it-all from earlier, and Harry Potter who hung out with the red-haired Weasley. They were either nervous and reserved, or they were very surprised by everything in the wizarding world.

The "Henry Welshman" before him was so calm that he didn't seem like a freshman. His manner of speaking was the kind of unintentional composure that Draco had only ever experienced when his parents entertained certain "important" guests.

"An ancient custom..." Draco repeated, seemingly savoring the word.

He noticed that Henry used silver cutlery, his movements were so precise they could be printed in an etiquette manual, and he showed no surprise at the food that suddenly appeared in front of him, as if he were already used to it.

This isn't right. A Muggle-born, or even a Muggle noble with some wealth, would surely have some reaction when faced with roast chicken that appears automatically and tripe that moves on its own, right?

"Yes," Henry chuckled casually, "Malfoy...right? If I remember correctly, our ancestors knew each other."

Just as Draco was about to say something, Pansy Parkinson, sitting on his other side, couldn't help but interrupt.

She had been listening intently, and now her voice was high-pitched: "Wells? I think my father mentioned something about a 'Prince of Wells' among the Muggles, their crown prince. Does that have anything to do with you?"

Henry turned his gaze to Pansy and smiled slightly.

"Oh, that's my dad."

Pansy opened her mouth wide, as if she had been cast a silent spell, her high-pitched voice stuck in her throat, unable to utter a single syllable.

Her eyes, which were always scrutinizing and critical, were wide open now, staring intently at Henry, as if she were seeing his face clearly for the first time—or rather, realizing for the first time what that face might mean.

Draco's already pale face suddenly flushed slightly. He clearly knew what this meant—not just Muggle nobles, but the very core of the most elite, oldest, and most symbolically powerful group of people in the Muggle world.

The Malfoy family may despise Muggles, but they will never despise power and influence, no matter where that power comes from.

"You mean," he suddenly remembered Henry's earlier words, "that our ancestors knew each other?"

"Yes." Henry put down his knife and fork and said in a low voice that only the two of them could hear, "According to royal records, in 1066, the first ancestor of the Malfoy family, Armand de Malfoy, followed my ancestor William I, also known as William the Conqueror, into England. Because of his achievements, he was granted a fief in Wiltshire. Current official documents show that the fief was inherited by Lucius Malfoy, but I don't know who he was..."

"Indeed, indeed my father." Draco wiped his sweat, unconsciously adopting a very formal tone, the slight arrogance he had been deliberately cultivating vanishing without a trace.

Clearly, he was astonished by this set of Wang Dun's family genealogy digging techniques.

Henry nodded slightly, picked up his knife and fork again, and relaxed his posture, as if they had just exchanged a casual opinion about the weather.

"History is always intertwined, Mr. Malfoy."

"Draco," Draco slightly changed his tone, "Just call me Draco, what do you think?"

I still prefer your attitude from earlier. Can you change it back?

"Alright, Draco..." He changed the subject, returning to the safer topic of the present, "but that was a long time ago. Now, we are all new students at Hogwarts, and that's what matters most, isn't it?"

He affirmed the historical connection while subtly shifting the focus back to the equal status of students in the present, giving Draco a way out.

Draco immediately seized the opportunity, while simultaneously receiving the signal with keen awareness.

He adjusted his posture, trying to regain some composure, but his tone had completely changed, now carrying a sense of respect.

"Of course, Your Highness, Slytherin would be a good fit for you." This time he even omitted the name, using the more formal title of Your Highness, and emphasized the House again, trying to elevate Henry to his area of ​​expertise.

Pansy finally snapped out of her petrified state. She noticed the obvious change in Draco's attitude, then glanced at Henry's calm demeanor, and wisely shut her mouth, which was about to ask more questions. However, her eyes darted back and forth between the two men, filled with curiosity and calculation.

She secretly decided that she would write a letter to her father tonight.

Of course, Draco made the same decision; he planned to tell his father the news.

Henry returned Draco's gesture with a smile, then turned his attention back to his plate, taking a few bites of pudding with his usual elegance and composure.

A fleeting hint of embarrassment crossed Draco's face, which he quickly masked with an even more attentive attitude.

"Of course, Your Highness is right. Life at Hogwarts is the most exciting thing right now." He tried to make his voice sound relaxed and natural. "My father told me that Slytherin's dormitories are right under the Black Lake, and you can see giant squid from the windows. It's very unique, and you'll like it."

Pansy chimed in, "Yes, and our Slytherin common room is the most tasteful."

Henry was well aware of Draco and Pansy's change of heart, but he didn't point it out.

He calmly finished the last bit of fruit, and the plate automatically became spotless.