Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Chapter 340 Meeting the Parents

The portraits were quiet tonight, with most of the figures leaning against their frames and dozing off, as if the excitement of the ball had exhausted them.

Henry and Miss Farley walked side by side down the corridor, slowly making their way back as if they were in no hurry to reach their destination.

"Your Highness," she began, "you said your grandmother arranged for Sir Arnold Robinson to be your advisor. When did that begin?"

"Before the start of first grade," Henry said with a smile, "a few days after I received my acceptance letter."

"So you've been receiving that kind of training since you were eleven?" Miss Farley asked.

"Yes," Henry said.

"Have you ever not used that way of speaking in the past few years?" Miss Farley asked again.

"Of course," Henry said without hesitation, "when I'm talking to people I trust, at tea parties, and when I'm with my friends."

"So tonight, when you were talking on the dance floor just now—" Miss Farley asked hesitantly.

Henry slowed his pace and glanced at her. "When I was talking to you just now, I was using my own way of speaking."

Miss Farley nodded gently, a tender smile blooming on her pretty face.

They had arrived at the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Henry gave the password to the door, and it opened, revealing a warm green firelight and an empty sofa.

There was no one else in the common room. The younger students had already gone back to sleep, and the older students had all gone to their rooms.

The fire in the fireplace was still burning, making a soft crackling sound.

Henry stopped at the doorway: "Well then, that's all for today."

"Alright." Miss Farley stood in the doorway. "Your Highness, see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Henry nodded.

Miss Farley entered the common room and walked towards the end of the corridor.

As she reached the guest room door, she turned back to look at Henry, smiled and nodded at him, then pushed open the door and went inside.

Henry stood in the corridor, looking at the closed door.

The last bell rang in the distance, and the early hours of Christmas officially began.

The next morning at seven o'clock, Henry stood in front of the fireplace, wearing a dark gray turtleneck sweater and black trousers, with a well-tailored dark blue overcoat over it.

His hair was a little neater than usual, making him look like he was ready to go.

He wasn't carrying anything, because Lucy had already sent his luggage to Kensington Palace via the Floo Network.

He just needs to stand here and wait for someone to come.

At 7:05, footsteps were heard at the end of the corridor.

Miss Farley came out of the guest room wearing a light gray turtleneck sweater and dark trousers, with a dark green wool coat over them.

Her hair was tied in a high ponytail, looking neat and tidy. She was carrying a small suitcase, not very big, as if it only contained necessities.

She stopped in front of Henry. "Your Highness, am I not late?"

"No, there's still time." Henry glanced at her. "Did you sleep well?"

"It's better than I expected," Miss Farley said. "I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep, but the bed is really nice."

"Hogwarts' guest rooms were changed in the first year—oh, they were changed once in 1991, with my grandmother privately sponsoring a small amount of Galleons for Hogwarts," Henry said.

"It's definitely not a small amount," Miss Farley said with a smile. "Shall we set off now?"

"Let's have breakfast first," Henry said. "Walking on an empty stomach makes you dizzier than walking during the day. There's a simple breakfast prepared in the kitchen, arranged by Lucy."

The two of them walked together into the small dining room on the side of the Slytherin common room, a place reserved for guests staying in guest rooms and rarely used.

There were two sets of cutlery on the table: a plate with scrambled eggs and toast, a teapot with Darjeeling tea, and a small pot of hot milk next to it.

Miss Farley glanced at the pot of milk, poured herself a cup of tea, and added a little milk.

"Your Highness," she asked curiously, "do you usually have such a formal breakfast at home?"

"Formal?" Henry glanced at the table setting. "This is rather simple. At Kensington Palace, breakfast usually includes four types of bread, three types of jam, and several kinds of juice."

"That's certainly simple here," Miss Farley said, "but I think it's fine as it is."

The two finished their breakfast quietly. Henry wiped his hands with a napkin, stood up, and asked, "Are you ready?"

"Ready."

They walked back to the common room and stood in front of the fireplace.

Henry took a handful of Floo Powder from the jar in his pocket and sprinkled it into the flames.

The green flames instantly rose up, like a door waiting to be passed through.

"Kensington Palace, West Meeting Room," Henry said clearly, then stepped into the flames.

Miss Farley took a deep breath and followed her inside.

The flames engulfed her, and the feeling was strange. She experienced a brief moment of weightlessness, as if she were being lifted and spun in the air by an invisible hand before her feet touched the ground.

She opened her eyes and found herself standing in a warm-colored room.

The walls were light beige, and several landscape paintings hung on them, all of which were static Muggle paintings.

In the corner was a dark red armchair with a light-colored blanket draped over its back.

The flames in the fireplace have returned to their normal orange color and are burning quietly.

Henry stood beside her, adjusting the collar of his coat. "Welcome to Kensington Palace."

Miss Farley stood in the center of the room, her gaze sweeping over the paintings on the walls, the ceramic vase on the windowsill, and the intricate floral patterns on the carpet, as if she were taking in every detail: "Don't these paintings move?"

“Of course not,” Henry said. “The paintings here are all Muggle paintings. They’ll stay in the same pose forever, they won’t talk to you, and they won’t change clothes.”

"Will they see me?" Miss Farley asked nervously.

"They'll see you," Henry joked, "but they won't tell anyone, I promise."

Miss Farley let out a soft breath, as if releasing some tension with that exhale: "So, where do we go now?"

"Go see my mother first," Henry said. "She should be in the garden; she likes to look at the holly bushes on winter mornings, to feel the breath of life, as she puts it."

"Shall we go now?"

“Yes,” Henry said. “She likes to meet with guests before breakfast; she says that time is more relaxing than lunchtime.”

The two people walked out of the room and down the corridor.

Kensington Palace's corridors are narrower than Hogwarts', but brighter.

The windows were larger, and the curtains were light-colored. Some family photos hung on the walls—some black and white, some color, some that looked like they were taken decades ago—and they were all static.

Miss Farley's gaze kept moving, as if she were taking in every detail she saw and storing it in her memory.

They went through a side door and into the garden.

The winter garden was quieter than Miss Farley had imagined; the grass was a deep green, covered with a thin layer of white frost.

Some holly and evergreen shrubs remain dark in color, while the old oak trees in the distance are bare, their branches stretching out against the gray-blue sky like outlines drawn with ink.

Princess Diana stood at the end of a path in the middle of the garden, wearing a light pink wool coat and holding a steaming cup of tea.

Her hair swayed gently in the breeze, and she wore a warm smile.

Seeing them approaching, she put down her teacup and took two steps forward to greet them.

"Henry," she called first, then her gaze shifted to Miss Farley, with an undisguised gentle curiosity, "Is this the Miss Farley you mentioned in your letter?"

"Yes, Mother," Henry said, "Gemma Farley, my dance partner."

Diana scrutinized Miss Farley, her scrutiny less like an assessment and more like an attempt to determine if she matched her expectations.

Her gaze lingered on Miss Farley's face for a moment, then her smile grew warmer: "You are much prettier than Henry described. He only wrote about your studies and the dress you wore to the ball in his letter, without mentioning your appearance at all."

Miss Farley was stunned; she hadn't expected such an opening at all. "Thank you, Your Highness."

"Just call me Diana," Diana said. "I've never liked complicated titles, especially in the garden."

She turned to the side, gesturing for Miss Farley to come along: "Would you like to walk with me in the garden? Henry, you can come too."

The three of them walked along the path. Diana's pace was slow, as if she was enjoying the walk itself rather than rushing.

"Henry said you're studying public policy and administration at Oxford," Diana asked. "That must be very tough, right?"

"It was certainly tough," Miss Farley said, "but I learned a lot there that you can't learn in the wizarding world, so I think it was worth it."

Diana stopped and turned to her: "So, do you think learning is worthwhile for its own sake, or because that knowledge will be useful in the future?"

Miss Farley thought for a moment: "For now, it's both. I know this knowledge will be useful in the future, but I also feel that the learning process itself has made me more clear-headed. At Oxford, I realized for the first time that there are so many people in the world thinking about the same problems in different ways. Before, when I was at Hogwarts, I thought the wizarding world was everything. But after coming to Oxford, I discovered that the Muggle world actually has far more problems than the wizarding world; they just solve them in different ways."

Diana nodded. "I'm the same as you. I grew up on the Spencer family estate, and I thought that was all there was to life as an aristocrat. Later, I went to London and other places, and I discovered that there are many ways to live in the world."

She glanced at Miss Farley: "Did you experience any discomfort when you first arrived at Hogwarts?"

“Yes,” Miss Farley said. “For the first few months of school, I kept thinking that there were too many rules in this school—no running in the hallways, no using magic in the hallways, no going into the Forbidden Forest—I thought at the time that these rules were to restrict freedom. Later I realized that those rules were actually to prevent freedom from being abused.”

Diana's smile grew even warmer: "You understand things better than many adults do."

"9

Henry walked beside them, keeping a half-step distance, and listened quietly.

He did not interrupt their conversation, nor did he try to steer the conversation in any direction.

He simply stood to the side, like someone confirming that the conversation was going smoothly.

They walked to the oak tree at the other end of the garden, where Diana stopped and turned to face Miss Farley: "Henry rarely brings people back, especially not men. You're the first."

"I know," said Miss Farley, "and that's why I'm very grateful to Your Highness."

Diana looked at her: "Then you should also know that the fact that he brought you here shows that he trusts you."

"I know," said Miss Farley, "which is why I cherish His Highness's trust."

Diana's gaze lingered on Miss Farley's face for a moment, as if some words were swirling on her tongue, but she ultimately decided to swallow them back, replacing them with a gentler statement: "That's good. Let's go back and have a hot drink; it's too cold in the garden."

They turned and walked back. As they passed Henry, Diana glanced at him briefly, but it was enough to convey a message.

I like the person you chose.

Back indoors, Diana sat with Miss Farley in the living room for a while, personally pouring her a cup of tea and adding two sugar cubes: "I know you wizards aren't used to sweet tea, but try it; sweet tea will warm you up in winter."

Miss Farley picked up the cup and took a sip. The tea was at the perfect temperature, not too sweet, which perfectly balanced the slight astringency of the black tea. "It's delicious, thank you."

Diana sat back on the sofa, holding another cup of tea, and looked at her: "So, when you're in Oxford, besides attending classes and going to the library, what else do you do?"

“I attend some lectures,” Miss Farley said. “Oxford has many public lectures, sometimes about politics, sometimes about history, and even about science. I once attended a lecture on the origin of the universe. Although I didn’t understand most of it, the way the professor spoke made me feel that as long as I kept asking questions, I would eventually find the answer.”

Diana smiled: "The way you talk reminds me of someone."

"Who?"

“Henry,” Diana said, “has a way of speaking that makes you want to keep listening. Not because he says anything particularly amazing, but because the way he speaks makes you feel like he really knows what he’s saying.”

Miss Farley glanced at Henry, but he was sitting quietly on the other side of the sofa, as if waiting for their conversation to end naturally so they could move on to the next stage.

She didn't see anything unusual on his face, as if he was already used to this kind of description.

“His Highness certainly knows what he’s doing,” Miss Farley said. “He’s the least wasteful person I’ve ever met.”