Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Chapter 412 Lucius's Visit

The next morning when Henry came downstairs, Cedric was already sitting in the breakfast room with a cup of breakfast tea in front of him and a piece of toast in his hand.

Diana was reading a newspaper nearby.

"Good morning." Henry sat down next to Cedric, poured himself a cup of breakfast tea, and added a little milk.

"Good morning." Cedric shifted his chair to the side. "Your jam in the kitchen is nice, strawberry?"

"Sandringham's, made by my mother herself."

Cedric spread another slice of toast.

"Your mother grows roses, makes jam, and raises three sons; that's really impressive."

Henry smiled but didn't reply.

At 7:45, the housekeeper parked the car outside the side gate.

Henry escorted Cedric to the door, where Cedric stood by the car door with his travel bag and turned around.

See you next semester.

See you next semester, write to me when it's time.

Cedric nodded and got into the car.

As the car pulled out of the side door, he waved from the car window.

Henry stood at the door watching the car turn onto Kensington Road and walk into the garden.

The morning in Kensington Gardens was quiet. Several swans swam slowly in the shallow waters by the lake, their necks curved in an arc, occasionally dipping their heads into the water and shaking their tails.

There was almost no one on the path. In the distance, a cleaner in an orange jacket was sweeping, the broom making a rustling sound on the stone pavement.

Henry walked halfway around the lake and then sat down on a bench on the south bank.

When Harry returned to Kensington Palace at 8:30, he was already awake.

His voice came from the backyard, calling for William. William's voice came from upstairs, muffled, probably just waking up.

Diana was reading the newspaper in the breakfast room when she saw Henry come in, and she looked up.

"Went for a run?"

"I took a walk around."

"Is it cold outside?"

"It's quite cool, but it'll be fine once the sun comes out."

Diana turned a page of the newspaper, and Henry sat down opposite her.

William came downstairs dressed neatly, wearing a clean shirt and trousers, and his hair was combed.

He sat down next to Henry and poured himself a cup of tea.

"What time did Harry finish digging yesterday?" Henry asked.

"It was 8:30 when Mom called him before he came upstairs."

"How deep did you dig?"

"About knee-high," William said, taking a bite of his toast. "He said he's going to dig down to his waist today."

Diana looked up: "He has to finish his homework before he gets to his waist, your father said that yesterday."

William nodded, but did not speak up for Harry.

After breakfast, Henry went to the backyard.

Harry's bunker still stands next to the vegetable garden. The three flat stones on the base are very stable. The tower on top has not been rebuilt yet; only the first floor is half-built.

The tunnel was next to them, an irregularly shaped shallow pit, about ankle-deep.

A tree branch was stuck in the soil mound by the pit, with a strip of cloth tied to the end of the branch as a marker.

Henry squatted by the pit for a while and looked at it. The soil at the bottom of the pit was dark and damp, mixed with bits of grass roots and traces of earthworms turning over.

Harry probably piled the excavated soil to one side, but it wasn't piled neatly, and a few clods of soil rolled into the vegetable garden.

Diana poked her head out of the kitchen window. "Henry, keep an eye on Harry, don't let him break the water pipes in the vegetable garden."

"Where is the water pipe?"

"South of the vegetable patch, about three feet from his hole."

Henry looked at the distance between Harry's hole and the vegetable patch. The soil to the south had already been loosened. If Harry dug another foot in that direction, he might hit the water pipe.

Henry found a flat stone nearby and laid it out as a line on the south side of the pit.

"Harry," he called back.

Harry ran out of the house, his face washed, but there was still some dirt behind his ears. "What happened?"

"Dig this far," Henry said, pointing to the line of stones. "There's a water pipe to the south; digging any further will break it."

Harry crouched down to look: "Where's the water pipe?"

"Over there, three feet away from you."

Harry thought for a moment, then nodded and said, "Okay, I'll dig to the east."

"There are vegetable gardens to the east, so you can't dig up the roots of the tomatoes."

Harry pouted. "Then which way should we dig?"

Henry surveyed the location of the bunker and the surrounding space: the bunker was to the north, the vegetable garden to the east, the water pipes to the south, and to the west, newly planted lavender, Diana's.

"Dig under the bunker," Henry said. "Make a secret room."

Harry's eyes lit up: "The Chamber of Secrets?"

"The tunnel started from under the bunker, and was dug westward until it stopped outside the lavender fields."

"Okay." Harry grabbed a branch and started digging on the west side of the bunker.

Henry stood up and went back inside.

Diana was cutting fruit in the kitchen when she saw him come in and looked up.

"He said they dug westward?"

"Yes, stop digging once you reach outside the lavender field."

Diana nodded: "Your words carry far more weight than your father's."

Henry smiled and walked into the living room.

Charles was on the phone in his study—his voice was muffled, and it was hard to hear what he was saying.

Henry sat down on the sofa and picked up the Daily Prophet from the coffee table.

The second edition includes a short message about personnel changes within the Ministry of Magic, in which Oswald's name is mentioned once, the gist of which is that he will submit a Floonet security report next month.

Henry turned to the third edition, but there was no other news.

At noon, Diana made sandwiches.

Ham and cheese, sliced ​​cucumber and tomato, and toasted bread.

Harry ate three pieces at the table, and then tried to run away.

"Homework," Diana said.

Harry stopped. "What homework?"

"Your father said so. Summer homework."

"I don't have summer homework."

"Then read a book." Diana placed a sandwich on Harry's plate. "Read for half an hour. Then you can dig."

Harry glanced at Henry. Henry was eating his second sandwich and didn't meet his gaze.

"William is looking at Spitfire fighter jets," Harry said.

"William's finished reading. Go read your dinosaur book."

Harry pouted, pulled a dinosaur picture book from the living room bookshelf, and sat on the sofa to flip through it. After about ten minutes, he started looking out the window. Five minutes later, he closed the book and slipped out of the living room.

Diana glanced at Harry's retreating figure from the kitchen doorway but didn't call out to him.

In the afternoon, Henry accompanied Diana to the supermarket. Diana pushed the shopping cart between the shelves, with Henry following beside her. The supermarket was crowded, with long lines at the checkout counters. Diana picked out a box of blueberries and a box of strawberries in the fruit section, and some asparagus and a bag of potatoes in the vegetable section. Henry pushed the cart beside her, occasionally helping Diana reach for the higher shelves.

While checking out, Diana looked at the items on the conveyor belt and said, "Your father spent two hours on the phone in his study today."

Henry grunted in agreement.

"Do you know who he's fighting?"

"have no idea."

Diana packed the items into shopping bags. "He's been busy lately. Busier than before."

Henry took the shopping bag. "He's looking something up; he'll be done soon."

Diana glanced at him but didn't ask any more questions.

Henry sat in the living room all morning, flipping through an old atlas he had taken from Charles's study.

William was upstairs flipping through his book on Spitfire fighters, while Harry, unable to dig tunnels in the backyard, wandered around the living room like a caged squirrel.

"Harry," Diana called from the kitchen, "come and help me knead the dough."

Harry ran into the kitchen, and after about ten minutes of silence, the sound of a bowl falling to the floor could be heard.

Diana said, "It's okay, pick it up." Five minutes later, Harry came out of the kitchen, his face covered in flour, with a...

Clutching a lump of dough.

"Mom asked me to make cookies."

Henry put down the atlas: "You can do it?"

"She said I just need to knead the dough, and she'll be in charge of baking."

Harry placed the dough on the coffee table and began pressing it with his hands.

He pressed the dough into an irregular flat sheet, with several cracks along the edges.

He looked at it, then kneaded it back into a ball and pressed it down again.

"It's too dry," Henry said.

"What should we do then?"

"Add some water."

Harry ran to the kitchen, brought back a small bowl of water, and flicked it onto the dough with his finger.

After being bounced a few times, the dough softened a bit, but it still had cracks.

He kneaded it again, and this time it was better; at least he could shape it into a round cake.

Diana came out of the kitchen and glanced at it. "Okay. Put it on the baking tray."

Harry placed the dough on a baking sheet, and Diana put it in the oven.

"Fifteen minutes."

Harry sat in front of the oven waiting, and William came downstairs and smelled the aroma.

"Did Harry do this?"

"Yes," Henry said.

William sat down on the sofa, his expression hesitant: "Is it edible?"

"It should be possible."

Fifteen minutes later, Diana took the baking tray out.

The cookies weren't baked evenly; some parts were burnt, while others were still pale.

Harry picked up a piece and took a bite.

"How is it?" Diana asked.

"good."

William took one too. He chewed it twice, said nothing, but didn't put the cookie down either. Harry watched him intently.

"It's alright," William finally said.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, put the remaining cookies on a plate, and took it to the living room.

He ate one piece himself, gave one piece to Henry, one piece to Diana, and saved the last piece for William.

William looked at the last piece on the plate; it was the largest piece, with a burnt edge.

He picked it up and took a bite.

"You can use less water next time," William said.

Harry nodded.

The rain stopped in the afternoon, and Harry ran out to check his tunnel.

The pit filled with water, forming a small pool.

Harry stood at the edge of the pit, mouth agape, staring for a long time.

"Henry!" he cried, "The tunnels are flooded."

Henry went to the backyard. The water in the pit was muddy, with a few blades of grass floating on top.

Harry squatted by the pit and poked the water's surface with a stick.

"Can we dig?" Harry asked.

"Wait for the water to seep down," Henry said. "Then we'll dig again tomorrow."

Harry sighed, put the branch aside, squatted by the pit, and stared blankly at the water. William came out of the house and stood next to Henry.

"Is he alright?" William asked.

"It's nothing. It's just that the tunnel being flooded is a tragedy."

William chuckled. "That's quite tragic indeed."

That evening, Diana made pasta. Harry ate two plates. William ate one and a half plates. When Charles came out of his study, the pasta was cold. He heated up a plate and sat down opposite Henry.

"You've been on the phone all day?" Henry asked.

"I didn't play all day. I only played a few in the morning."

"Windsor?"

Charles nodded. "Your grandmother said the audience on August 5th is all arranged. That puts our minds at ease."

Henry picked up his water glass and took a sip: "Father."

"Um?"

"How did you feel about all that research?"

Charles chewed a mouthful of pasta: "It's alright, at least I learned some things."

"What is it?"

Charles put down his fork: "You know our family is involved with something. Your grandmother always knew, but she didn't say anything."

I spent a month researching and figured it out myself. That made me feel—at least I did what I could.

Henry nodded. London outside the window was exceptionally quiet in the post-rain night, the light from the streetlights reflecting off the wet pavement.

Harry has already gone upstairs; he's probably drawing up the plans for the tunnel.

William was flipping through a book in the living room, while Diana was getting some fresh air at the door.

Charles finished his pasta and put the plate aside.

"That bookmark of yours, the one with the oak leaf, was it a gift from Cedric?"

"right."

Charles nodded. "He's a good boy."

Henry chuckled. "You've never even met him."

"Your mother said so," Charles stood up. "She said he helped Harry move stones."

On the morning of July 20th at Kensington Palace, Henry received a letter delivered by an owl at the breakfast table.

The envelope was dark green, with an "M" pressed onto it by wax. It was Draco's letter.

Henry: My father would like to visit your father at Kensington Palace this afternoon.

It wasn't a formal audience; we were just discussing those documents.

If it's convenient for your father, could it be this afternoon?

Draco.

Henry showed the letter to Charles, who read it and said, "Let him come at two o'clock in the afternoon."

Henry replied to Draco's letter and went downstairs for breakfast.

Harry had gone to the backyard—the water in the tunnel had seeped in, and he was digging again. William was in the living room doing his fire-breathing...

Fighter jet model.

Diana was cutting roses in the garden.

Lucius Malfoy arrived at Kensington Palace at two o'clock in the afternoon. He was wearing a dark gray Muggle suit, which was well-tailored but much more understated than the robes he wore at Hogwarts.

He stood at the door, carrying a leather briefcase.

Henry greeted him at the door: "Mr. Malfoy."

"The Duke of Cambridge," Lucius said with a slight bow, "is your father in?"

"I'll be waiting for you in the study."

Henry led Lucius through the hallway, and as they passed through the living room, Diana stood up from the sofa and nodded to Lucius.

Lucius returned the greeting without stopping.

Henry escorted him to the study door and then turned to leave.

The study door closed, and Henry went back to the living room and sat down opposite Diana.

Diana continued knitting the scarf without asking any questions.

About an hour later, the study door opened.

Charles and Lucius came out together. Lucius looked much more relaxed than when he went in. Charles was talking to him, and Lucius nodded occasionally.

Lucius stopped when they reached the living room doorway.

"Ms. Diana," he said, "thank you for your hospitality; your garden is beautiful."