Hermione Granger hurried out of the Great Hall after Richard. Harry Potter followed her. Ron Weasley initially meant to dash after his friend as well, but then temptation struck. He glanced at a pastry—a rare dessert on a weekday—then looked at Harry. Then back at the pastry. At Harry. Back to the pastry again. He considered putting it in his pocket, but it looked sticky. In the end, his desire for dessert overcame his curiosity. Ron decided Harry would tell him everything later. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he sat back down at the table.
"Richie!" Hermione called out.
Richard had already made it down the staircase into the corridor leading towards the Hufflepuff common room. At Granger's shout, he stopped dead and slowly turned around.
The girl was breathing hard. Harry Potter had caught up with her.
"Richie, don't pay any attention to Lockhart," he said. "That peacock's been pestering me too."
"Richie, he's still a professor," Hermione said reproachfully. "How could you speak to him like that?"
"Miss Granger," Grosvenor replied coldly, "that so-called professor called me nobody and nothing. Me—a man who, in three years, has managed to earn more than Lockhart has in his entire life. And he said it immediately after I received a Nobel Prize in front of the elite of the scientific community, the press, and members of royalty! Me, Earl Grosvenor, heir to the Duke of Westminster, someone welcomed into the British Royal Family! And I dared speak to him like that? How dare he speak to me that way?!"
Hermione recoiled from the formal address as though she'd been slapped. Her eyes began to sting with tears, and her voice trembled.
"Richie... I don't think Professor Lockhart meant anything bad by it."
"If he hadn't meant anything bad, he wouldn't have insulted me," Grosvenor remarked. "Pompous fop! How dare he?"
"Richie, don't listen to Hermione," Potter said. "She's in love with Lockhart."
"I am not!" Granger protested loudly.
"Then why are you defending him?" Harry tilted his head, looking at her. "Professor Lockhart insulted Richie in public. The whole of Hogwarts saw it. Or isn't Richie your friend? Hermione, whose side are you on?"
"I..." Granger faltered. She looked like a dog that had been beaten and then dunked in a rubbish bin. "Richie's my friend, yet Professor Lockhart..."
"Your Professor Lockhart hasn't taught us a single spell this entire time," Harry stated, pointing out the obvious. "By the way"—he turned to his friend—"Richie, congratulations! That's incredible! Did you really get the Nobel Prize?!"
"Yes, but I don't deserve much credit for it," Grosvenor replied honestly. "Professor Roberts did all the scientific work. I merely showed him the most primitive way of obtaining a few flakes of graphene. Out of the goodness of his heart, Professor Roberts included me as a co-author, for which I'm immensely grateful to him. He's an extraordinarily generous man. Not everyone could bring themselves to share a million-dollar prize and worldwide fame with someone else."
"Half a million?" Hermione was stunned. "Richie, what are you going to do with that much money?"
As Richard turned his attention back to the conversation with his friends, he gradually began to calm down, and the girl's words even brought a smile to his face.
"Hermione, that sum might seem enormous to some people, but certainly not to me. I don't believe I earned that prize, so I donated all the money to charity."
"That was very noble of you," Hermione said with a strained smile.
Harry looked thoughtful. Quietly, he said,
"I don't think I could've given up that much money. Uncle Scott definitely wouldn't approve. Maybe I could give half of it to charity, but not all of it."
Granger gathered her courage, clenched her fists tightly, and looked Richard straight in the eye.
"Richie," she began. "I'm sorry. I... I understand that what Professor Lockhart said was insulting to you. I've thought about it, and... you know, you're my best friend, and I said that to you even though I originally wanted to support you."
"It's all right, Hermione," Grosvenor replied. "I understand. An idol like 'Professor' Lockhart is to you can easily become a cause of quarrels between friends. Let's just forget about it."
"All right!" Granger agreed, visibly relieved and delighted. "Richie, tell us what the ceremony was like."
"Wonderful. Although I made a joke about physics that Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II didn't particularly approve of."
"Her Majesty?" Harry asked in surprise. "Not 'Granny Liz'?"
"No." Richard shook his head sharply. "At that moment, she was the Queen. Strict, stern, and somewhat displeased with my little stunt. But you can congratulate me."
"Oh, right, Richie," Hermione caught herself. "Congratulations! Winning a Nobel Prize at your age is incredible!"
"Not for that," Richard said.
"Then what for?" Harry asked curiously.
"As of today, I'm a Fellow of the Royal Society of London."
"What's that?" Harry looked at his friend in confusion.
"Harry, honestly!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly. "The Royal Society of London for Improving Natural Knowledge. Britain's leading scientific society and one of the oldest in the world. It's extremely prestigious to be a member. They don't invite just anyone, only outstanding scientists. For a twelve-year-old boy to be admitted is about as ordinary an occurrence as landing on the Moon."
"Ah..." Potter drawled. "Congratulations, Richie."
"Yes, Richie, congratulations," Hermione added. "I can't believe I'm friends with a Nobel laureate and a Fellow of the Royal Society."
"All right, enough about me," Richard said. "How have you two been?"
"Wonderful," Granger replied. "I've read so many interesting things. It turns out wizards don't even realise how much they don't know about house-elves. I found everything in the library that had ever been written about them, but there was very little genuinely useful information. Richie, did you know that a house-elf has to be bound to you with special charms performed with the help of a second wizard?"
(End of Chapter)
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