Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Chapter 344 The Gift (Part Two)

Charles took the package, untied the string, and peeled back the brown paper.

Inside was a thin book with a plain white cover. It had no title or publication information and looked like it had been handwritten and bound.

He opened the cover and saw neat handwriting inside, arranged page by page, as if it had taken a long time to copy.

"Wow, this looks like a book about the Enchanted Forest." Charles flipped through a few pages. "It's all about the forests of England, and it even includes some records about the symbiotic relationship between magical creatures and trees."

"I heard you're interested in environmental issues," Miss Farley said. "There's an old book in the Hogwarts library that contains a lot of magical information about the forests of England. I copied down the part comparing Muggle forests and magical forests and compiled it into this booklet."

Charles closed the book, placed it on his lap, as if feeling its thickness: "How long did it take you to copy it?"

"About three nights, two to three hours each night."

Charles didn't say anything more, but he carefully put the book away and placed it on the corner of the coffee table.

Miss Farley went to the fireplace and took down the third package.

Its kraft paper is dark red, tied with a thin gold cord.

She walked up to Prince Philip.

Prince Philip had been sitting quietly on the sofa since he entered the living room, holding a cup of tea, observing with a habitual air of self-assurance.

"Your Highness," said Miss Farley, "this is for you."

Prince Philip took the package, untied the string, and peeled back the parchment.

Inside was a palm-sized metal device, made of brass and dark iron sheets, resembling a miniature mechanical device.

There is a small knob on the side, and a line of text is engraved on the bottom.

"What is this?" Prince Philip picked it up and turned it over to look at it.

"It's a music box," Miss Farley said, "but it doesn't produce traditional mechanical sounds. I met an old clock repairman in Oxford who taught me some principles of mechanics. This music box is assembled from scrap clock parts, and the reeds inside are adjusted to play a short tune."

Prince Philip turned the knob on the side, and the metal device made a slight clicking sound, then began to make a sound, like the gears in a clock being disassembled and rearranged into a melody.

The melody was very short, about fifteen seconds long, and then it stopped.

"What piece of music is this?" Prince Philip asked.

"It's 'The Heart of an Oak Tree,' an old song. The lyrics are about a person who planted an oak tree, watched it grow, and then spent the rest of his life in its shade."

Prince Philip did not answer, but he took the music box in his hand, listened to it again, and then placed it on the coffee table next to him.

The movements were very gentle, as if carefully placing something.

Miss Farley went to the fireplace and took down the fourth package.

It was light blue, tied with a thin white string. She walked up to William: "This is for you."

William took the package, untied the string, and peeled back the kraft paper. Inside was a dark blue tie; the fabric felt smooth but not heavy, and it was plain dark blue without any pattern.

"I've seen all the clothes you've worn," Miss Farley said. "You look more comfortable in navy blue, so I chose this one."

William held the tie, looking somewhat surprised. "You've been watching what I wear?"

"You were wearing a dark blue sweater that day when we were walking in the garden. You kept looking down at your clothes without realizing it, so I think you must like dark blue."

William looked down at the tie in his hand: "I don't have a dark blue tie."

"So you have it now."

William said nothing more; he folded his tie and placed it on his lap.

Miss Farley went to the mantel and took down the fifth package, which was made of light gray kraft paper and bound with red string.

She walked up to Harry: "This is for you."

Harry took the package, untied the string, and peeled back the brown paper.

Inside was a box of candy—a wooden box with a lid nailed shut and a bat carved on it, flapping its wings.

"Is this edible?" Harry opened the lid and peeked inside.

"Yes, you can eat them. These are chocolates made in the Hogwarts kitchen, a modified version—they won't jump like chocolate frogs, they're just regular chocolates, shaped like bats."

Harry picked up a bat-shaped chocolate and looked at it. "So they don't move?"

"It won't move. Moving it would be too much trouble."

Harry took a bite, chewed it twice, and said, "Delicious."

Miss Farley smiled.

She went back to the fireplace and took down the last package.

It was larger than the others, wrapped in dark gray kraft paper, and tied with a thin silver cord.

She turned to face Henry: "Your Highness, this is for you."

Henry took the package, untied the string, and peeled off the parchment.

Inside was a notebook with a leather cover. There were no words on the cover, and the leather was dark brown with a warm, smooth texture.

"I noticed that you sometimes couldn't find paper to write things down when you were at Hogwarts. You tend to make annotations in books, but those ideas are often scribbled down in the margins. I think a notebook that you can carry with you might be more convenient."

Henry opened the notebook; there were no words on the title page.

The paper feels thick but not rough.

"You chose a very good paper," he praised.

"I went to several places before I found a type of paper that could be written on with an ink pen without the ink bleeding through."

Henry closed the notebook and placed it on his lap: "I'll use it well."

Miss Farley turned toward the Queen’s seat and took a small cloth bag from the inside pocket of her coat.

It was a light beige cloth bag tied with a dark brown thin rope. The fabric was linen and felt a little rough to the touch.

It was smaller than the other packages and wasn't placed on the mantel; it seemed to have been deliberately stored separately.

The Queen was holding a teacup when she saw Miss Farley approaching her. She didn't say anything, but simply waited quietly.

"Your Majesty," said Miss Farley, "this is for you."

The Queen took the bag, untied the string, gently opened the bag, glanced inside, and took something out with two fingers.

It was a small, round piece of fabric, about the size of a palm, with a ring of fine stitches around the edge. It was dark blue in color, and the outline of a small dog was embroidered on it with light gray thread.

The embroidery technique wasn't complicated, and the stitches weren't very even, but the outline of the dog was easy to recognize: a large ear, a short and sturdy body, and a raised tail.

The Queen held the fabric in her palm, looked down at it for a moment, and said with considerable fondness, "Is this a corgi?"

"Yes," said Miss Farley. "I noticed some ceramic corgi figurines in the house, and the dog also appears in several paintings in the hallway. I thought you would like corgis, so I tried embroidering one."

"Did you embroider this?" Elizabeth asked, somewhat surprised.

"I've learned some basic embroidery, and this little dog took about three nights to make. It's fairly smooth, but the stitches might be a bit uneven in some places."

The Queen did not comment on the workmanship; she simply turned the fabric over and looked at the back.

The stitching on the back is denser than on the front, and the finishing is neat, with the thread ends hidden under the stitches.

She turned the fabric right side out and glanced at the corgi's silhouette a few more times: "Have you ever seen a real corgi?"

"No," said Miss Farley. "I embroidered it following the illustrations in a book. There's a book about English dog breeds in the library with a side view of a Corgi and a proportion diagram. I sketched the outline with a pencil first, and then embroidered it."

The Queen held the fabric in her hand and placed it on her lap very gently.

"You're so thoughtful," she nodded.

"It's what I should do."

The Queen smiled and nodded, carefully putting the piece of fabric back into her bag, tying the string, and placing it on a corner of the coffee table.

That spot was placed next to Diana's bottle of honey, like two things that had been confirmed to be worth keeping.

Miss Farley took a half step back and sat down on the sofa.

Her fingers were folded together on her knees, her fingertips slightly cool, as if her palms were slightly sweaty when she took out the cloth bag.

Diana glanced at her from across the room: "When did you embroider this?"

"When I was in Oxford, I didn't have classes in the evenings, so I would sit in my dorm and embroider while reading."

"Did you have a desk lamp at your desk in Oxford?"

"Yes," Miss Farley said.

Diana nodded and said, "I think there's one more person."

Miss Farley paused slightly, "There's more?"

"And the housekeepers, although they usually stand by the door without saying a word, they will be very happy if you prepare a meal for them."

Miss Farley smiled. "I did prepare a copy. But I'm not sure whether I should give it to them directly or have you pass it on."

"You can just give them to them," Diana said. "They're used to receiving gifts."

Miss Farley took the last small package out of her pocket. It was wrapped in plain brown kraft paper and tied with a plain white string, making it more unassuming than the other packages.

She walked to the living room door and saw the housekeeper standing in the hallway.

"This is for you," Miss Farley said.

The butler paused slightly, took the gift, and glanced at it: "Miss, you don't need to prepare a gift for us."

"I know," Miss Farley said, "but it's what I should do."

The butler looked down at the package and did not continue to refuse.

He carefully packed the package, put it in his pocket, and resumed his quiet standing posture.

Miss Farley turned and went back to the living room, where she sat down on the sofa.

Diana looked at her: "Have you prepared for yourself?"

"No, I am the gift itself, aren't I?"

Charles spoke up: "So, what was the gift you received?"

Miss Farley thought for a moment and said, "It's already very kind of me to have the opportunity to spend this time with you all."

Over there, Diana placed the bottle of honey on the coffee table near the window to protect it from the morning sun; Charles placed the handwritten book next to his armchair, as if ready to turn a few more pages at any moment; Prince Philip picked up the music box and listened to it again before putting it back in his pocket; William untied and folded his tie once more, as if checking its texture; Harry had already eaten three bat-shaped chocolates, with a small piece of melted chocolate still stuck to the corner of his mouth.

Henry sat down in the chair next to Miss Farley, placed his notebook on his lap, and glanced at her.

"After Christmas breakfast, we'll go to church," he said. "There's a small chapel near Sandringham House where we go for services every Christmas Day; it's a tradition."

Miss Farley put down her teacup: "To church?"

"Yes," Henry said. "You can stay at the manor if you don't want to."

"I'd love to attend," Miss Farley said. "I've never attended a church service before, and I'd like to see what it's like."

Diana, who was on the other side, heard this and smiled slightly: "Then you might find it much quieter than the Great Hall at Hogwarts. There are no floating candles, no distorting ceilings, just an ordinary hall."

"That's fine too," Miss Farley said. "It's nice to have some peace and quiet once in a while."

Breakfast was simple: baked pasta, butter, jam, tea, and a small basket of roasted meat, which was taken out of the oven and was still slightly warm.

Miss Farley took one, broke off a small piece and put it in her mouth. It was roasted to perfection, and the aroma of meat and sugar filled her mouth.

After breakfast, everyone went back to their rooms to change. Miss Farley returned to her room, stood in front of her suitcase, and rummaged through the dark gray dress and black coat she had brought.

This outfit is both formal and casual, and should be considered comfortable.

She changed her clothes, tidied her hair in front of the mirror, and then her mother went downstairs.

Yanli was already standing in the foyer, wearing a dark coat, talking to the butler. Seeing his mother approach, he ended the conversation: "Are you ready?"

"Ready."

The church is about a mile from Sandringham House, a 20-minute walk away.

Diana walked ahead, side by side with Charles, their pace neither too fast nor too slow.

William and Harry's mother were behind, the two of them arguing in hushed tones, the content of which was too clear to hear, but presumably it was about who should be in the other side of the line. Prince Philip's mother was to the left of Miss Farley and Miss John, walking steadily without a cane.

"Miss Farley," Prince Philip began, his gaze still fixed ahead, "what do you see in common between the religions of wizards and those of Muggles?"

Miss Farley thought for a moment: "The wizarding world has no organized religion, no churches, no priests, and no formal religious ceremonies. The magical world has beliefs, but they are more personal. Some people believe that ancient trees have spirits, some believe that the arrangement of stars can affect fate, and some believe that magic itself is mysterious enough, so they need to find an additional god to explain it."

"And what about you?" Prince Philip asked. "What do you believe in?"

Miss Farley paused for a moment, as if seriously considering the answer to the question: "I believe there are some things that magic cannot explain. Fortunately, there must be some god in charge of everything, but—the way things work may simply be something we haven't yet found the corresponding spell to explain."

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