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The bow brought the corridor to a standstill.
A Gryffindor offering a formal public bow of gratitude to a Slytherin, in front of a full audience, no less.
The last time anything remotely comparable had happened was not a story anyone could immediately recall.
Harry stepped forward before the silence could stretch too long, his voice genuine. "Yes, thank you, Your Highness Henry. Hermione is our friend, and we're all very grateful that you did what you did."
Ron, from somewhere behind Harry's shoulder, produced a sound that was at least in the approximate vicinity of "thanks." It was barely audible, but it existed.
He appeared to still be working through certain deeply held convictions about the fundamental nature of Slytherins.
Henry received it all with an easy nod. "You're very kind, Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley. I think any responsible student at Hogwarts would have made the same choice in the same circumstances. I'm glad you're safe, Miss Granger. Miss Greengrass was the one who noticed, I simply passed the information on to someone who could act on it."
His response was precisely calibrated: neither falsely modest nor self-congratulatory, and it named Daphne clearly rather than absorbing her contribution into his own.
It also reframed the entire exchange as a simple fulfilment of a student's duty rather than an act of inter-House charity, which quietly dissolved most of the awkwardness before it could solidify.
Hermione straightened up. Her eyes were still slightly bright, but a genuine smile had found its way onto her face.
She pressed her lips together for a moment, appearing to arrive at a decision, then spoke again, her voice quieter but carrying a new note of resolution.
"There's one more thing. Harry, Ron, and I have discussed it, and we'd like to invite you to tea, as a small way of expressing our thanks. If it wouldn't be any trouble, in the Great Hall, perhaps, or the study area outside the library, wherever is most convenient for you. The time is entirely your choice."
She added this last part quickly, as though anticipating that it might sound presumptuous.
The students listening in the corridor reacted as though she had produced a Confundus Charm from thin air.
The Gryffindor trio were inviting Henry Wales, of Slytherin, to tea? Draco let out a short, disbelieving laugh. Pansy and Daphne traded a glance.
The students on both sides of the corridor who had slowed to listen looked as though they were watching something historically significant and were not entirely sure what to do with themselves.
Henry considered it for a moment.
A public refusal would appear petty and dismiss a gesture that had taken genuine courage to make.
It would also close a door to Gryffindor that was, at this particular moment, standing open. As for the opinion of the more intractably anti-Gryffindor Slytherins on the subject, he would not be told what to do by eleven-year-olds wearing green scarves.
Beyond that, he had a suspicion that the system's progress was connected, at least in part, to these cross-House interactions.
A quiet smile settled on his face.
"I'm honoured by the invitation. As it happens, I intend to do some studying this afternoon in one of the unused classrooms on the east side of the second floor, it's quiet there. If a simple setting doesn't put you off, you're welcome to join me at four o'clock for tea and a brief conversation. Though of course it's entirely as you prefer."
He named a specific place and time, kept the register informal, and left the decision visibly in their hands.
Hermione's face lit up. She nodded with considerable energy. "Four o'clock, unused classroom, east side of the second floor. We'll be there. Thank you, Your Highness Henry."
She looked, for the first time since approaching them, thoroughly pleased.
Harry visibly relaxed beside her, returning Henry's nod with a small smile. Ron's expression remained somewhat complicated, but he did not object, and when he thought no one was watching, he glanced sideways at Henry with rather less wariness than he had managed at breakfast.
"Until this afternoon, then," Henry said pleasantly, and turned back toward the corridor with Draco and the others falling into step around him.
Draco waited precisely as long as it took to round the next corner.
"Your Highness." He seized Henry's arm with the urgency of someone with a great deal to say. "You are genuinely going to have tea with Potter. And Weasley. And that—" he caught himself under the steady pressure of Henry's expression and swallowed the word "—with Miss Granger?"
"Why not, Draco?" Henry said, his tone mild. "They thanked me openly and sincerely, and they extended an invitation in good faith. Accepting it with equal courtesy is simply how one behaves. This isn't a question of House politics, it's a matter of basic conduct."
He dropped his voice so that only the immediate circle could hear him.
"And remember what I said. Keep your friends close. Keep your rivals considerably closer. That is the only way to know what they are actually thinking rather than what you have assumed they are thinking."
For eleven-year-olds, it was a remarkably consequential piece of reasoning, and everyone within earshot knew it.
Pansy turned it over thoughtfully. "That does make a certain amount of sense. Better to know than to speculate."
Daphne added softly, "Granger seemed genuinely sincere. I think she may simply be very competitive rather than unpleasant. Those are not the same thing."
Draco wrestled with himself visibly, then produced a resolute snort. "Fine. Just don't let them think Slytherin is easy to get along with."
"Naturally," Henry said, giving him a brief, satisfied pat on the shoulder. "We are having tea and a conversation, not signing a treaty. Composure, appropriate distance, and the information we want. That is the Slytherin way."
At four o'clock, Henry arrived at the unused classroom ahead of time. Lucy had prepared the space simply: a plain dark blue tablecloth, Hogwarts' standard white porcelain teaware, and a modest arrangement of butter biscuits, jam tarts, and a small frosted cake. No bone china, no silver tongs, no three-tiered pastry stand.
Everything was scaled to produce a relaxed and unpressured atmosphere, and, not incidentally, calibrated to ensure that a family with the Weasleys' finances would feel nothing but at ease.
The knock came at exactly four o'clock. The Gryffindor trio appeared together, perfectly punctual.
Hermione had made some effort with her hair, not that it had entirely cooperated, and was wearing the warm yellow sweater, with a small stack of books tucked under one arm.
Harry looked more at ease than he had all morning. Ron conducted a thorough visual survey of the classroom upon entry, apparently checking it for signs of a Slytherin plot.
Henry rose to greet them. "Please come in. I've just finished setting up, I hope the surroundings suit you."
"It's lovely in here!" Hermione said, and then paused, surprised at herself for being surprised.
Her eyes moved across the simple furnishings with something closer to relief than disappointment. She had, clearly, been expecting something considerably more elaborate.
After a moment's reflection, she decided it made sense.
His Highness, from everything she had seen on television at least, had always struck her as considerably more approachable than the institution he was part of. His mother, in particular, had always appeared exactly that way.