Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Chapter 211 Strange Sounds

Wednesday marks the third event of the Duel Club.

This time, there were a few more people than last time. From Gryffindor, Percy brought two seventh-year students to observe, saying he wanted to see how things went and maybe help them later. Ravenclaw had three more lower-year students, probably because Cho Zhang or Michael had told them. Hufflepuff had practically brought their entire second year. Hannah and Susan greeted the newcomers at the door, their faces beaming with pride.

On Slytherin's side, it was still the same second-year students.

At 7:00, there were about 30 people in the room.

The stands were packed, and many people were also standing in the open space around the platform.

Henry stood on the high platform, looking down at the members of the dueling club, and felt a bit like he was watching the crops ripen.

After a brief exchange, at his prompting, Miss Farley stepped onto the platform.

"Let's continue practicing the Disarm Charm today." Her gaze swept over the people below. "Everyone improved last time, but it's not enough. The Disarm Charm is the foundation of dueling. If the foundation isn't solid, you won't be able to use what you learn later."

Someone below sighed softly, probably thinking they would learn something new today.

Miss Farley heard this, but said nothing, only smiled slightly.

"I know you want to learn new spells," she said. "But dueling isn't about memorizing spells, it's about practicing your reflexes. A disarming charm, if mastered, can handle most situations; if not, knowing a hundred spells won't help."

Percy walked up from the side and stood on the other side of the platform.

"Raise your hand if you went back to practice last week."

The people below looked at each other, and then one by one raised their hands.

Percy nodded, his expression serious but with a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.

"Very good, make up for the ones you missed this week when you get back."

Miss Farley waved her wand, and a dozen or so targets appeared on the platform, lined up in a row, gray with concentric circles drawn on them.

"Two people work in a group, taking turns shooting. Each person gets ten shots, with an assistant watching and correcting their movements. After ten shots, they switch partners."

The assistants went to their respective groups and began to arrange the order.

The practice lasted for more than an hour, with Miss Farley and Percy walking around the field, occasionally stopping to correct someone's movements.

Miss Farley speaks concisely and directly, while Percy is more patient and will explain the underlying principles in more detail.

The two have different styles, but they cooperate very well. One manages the left side, and the other manages the right side, without interfering with each other.

Henry stood beside the platform; he had already been given special treatment by Miss Farley.

Now, according to Miss Farley, he is better than most of the third-grade students.

Lucy walked over silently, carrying a cup of tea.

"Your Highness, please have some tea."

Henry took the teacup and took a sip.

The tea was still warm, with a faint honey sweetness.

Practice ended at 8:30.

Miss Farley stopped everyone and stood on the platform, her gaze sweeping over each person.

"Everyone did well today," she said. "Your mastery of the disarming spell is much better than last week. Keep practicing next week. Remember, you can never practice this spell too much."

"Go back and practice more." Percy also stood up. "We'll check next week. If most people can consistently hit the target, we can start learning the new material."

A quiet cheer erupted from below. Ron clenched his fist, Hermione smiled, and Neville smiled too.

The crowd began to disperse, and people walked out of the Requirement House in twos and threes, with various voices and laughter echoing in the corridor.

Ron was gesturing something to Harry, probably telling him how many times he had hit the target that day.

Neville walked behind alone, his face showing an embarrassed yet happy expression.

Henry stood beside the platform, watching them leave.

Harry stopped abruptly as he reached the door.

His steps faltered, and he stood frozen in place, as if immobilized by something. His head was tilted slightly, as if listening to a sound from a very, very distant place. The flickering light from the torches in the corridor cast shadows on his face, making his expression appear both bright and dark.

Ron took a few steps, then turned around when he realized Harry hadn't followed.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

Harry didn't answer; his eyes were fixed on the depths of the corridor, his brow furrowed.

Ron walked back and patted him on the shoulder.

"Harry?"

Harry snapped back to reality, as if he had been dragged out of a dream.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked, looking a little worried.

Harry shook his head, but his face looked pale.

"It's alright, let's go."

He walked quickly, with Ron following behind, still asking him what he had heard. Harry didn't answer, just shook his head and quickened his pace.

Henry stood at the door of the Room of Requirement, watching Harry's figure disappear at the end of the corridor.

He didn't follow; he just stood there, looking in that direction.

Miss Farley came over and stood beside him.

"Your Highness, what's wrong with Potter?"

"I don't know," Henry said. "Maybe he overheard something."

Miss Farley glanced at him but didn't ask any further questions.

"See you next week, Your Highness."

See you next week.

She turned and left, and Percy came over to say hello before leaving with the Gryffindors.

Henry stood alone in the corridor. After thinking for a moment, he decided not to chase after Harry.

Some things need time to develop; you can't get any answers by asking now.

The Halloween atmosphere began to permeate the castle over the weekend.

Pumpkin lanterns hung in the corridor, each one grinning, its flames flickering and casting eerie shadows on the walls.

Bats flew around in the hallway, occasionally one clumsy one would bump into the wall, flap its wings a few times, and then take flight again. The air was filled with the scent of pumpkin and cinnamon, along with a hint of the sweet aroma of roasted apples wafting from the kitchen.

Professor Flitwick taught a spell in Charms class that would make jack-o'-lanterns dance on their own. The students practiced with great enthusiasm, filling the classroom with bouncing pumpkins. Hermione was the first to succeed, and Professor Flitwick gave Gryffindor five points. Ron's jack-o'-lantern danced wobbly, as if he were drunk, making the whole class laugh.

On Thursday afternoon, Henry received a special letter.

An owl flew into the auditorium at lunchtime and landed in front of him. It was a greyish-brown owl with a grey envelope tied to its leg.

The envelope had no stamp or postmark, only a line of words written in emerald green ink: "Slytherin, To His Highness Henry."

Henry opened the envelope; inside was a piece of gray parchment, its edges jagged, as if torn by hand. The writing on the paper was faint, as if it had been written with a quill pen dipped in water, and in some places it was almost illegible.

My dear Prince Henry:

On Halloween Eve, I will be holding my death anniversary party in the underground classroom. This means a great deal to me, and I would be honored if you could grace us with your presence.

Yours faithfully, Sir Nicholas de Minsey-Popington