Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Chapter 144 Shocks the Dursleys for a Whole Year (Fifth Update)

"Mr. Dursley?" John raised his chin slightly.

"It's me. Who are you?" Vernon's voice was clearly wary.

John didn't answer, but instead took a black ID holder from his inside suit pocket, opened it, and showed it to him.

Inside the document holder was an identity card bearing the royal coat of arms, along with his photograph and official title.

"The Office of the Royal Coordination," John said. "John Hawthorne, may I come in and talk?"

Vernon's eyes widened, his face turned from white to red, then from red to purple, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly, like a fish that had been pulled ashore.

"King—the royal family?"

"Yes."

"Um—um—please come in, please come in."

The door was flung open, and Vernon stepped aside, his expression a fascinating mix of shock, fear, flattery, and a touch of guilt.

He didn't know why he felt guilty, he just felt guilty.

John stepped across the threshold, his eyes quickly scanning the room.

The living room is decorated in the style common in middle-class homes: floral wallpaper, patterned sofa, glass coffee table, and various small ornaments on the TV cabinet.

It was cleaned very well, but it lacked taste.

A woman with a long, thin face and a long neck was sitting on the sofa, reading a magazine.

When she saw someone come in, she looked up, her expression mirroring Vernon's.

"This—this is?" Penny stood up, almost dropping the magazine in her hand.

"This is—this is—" Vernon stammered, "He's from the royal family, from the royal family."

"The royal family?" Penny's voice shrank a bit.

John nodded slightly as a greeting.

"Mr. Dursley, Mrs. Dursley," he said, his tone still flat, "I'm here today for a child."

Vernon's expression changed.

"Child—child?"

"Harry Potter," John said, his gaze falling on Vernon's face. "Is he here?"

The air in the living room froze. Vernon and Penny exchanged a glance, their expressions incredibly interesting.

"That—" Vernon began, his voice hoarse, "that child—he's upstairs. But may I ask, why would the royal family care about him?"

John didn't answer, he just looked at him.

That gaze was so calm, yet it made Vernon feel like a mouse being watched by a cat.

"Three days ago," John finally spoke, "someone called the police saying you had locked the child up. When the police came, you said he was in solitary confinement. Then he came out and said everything was fine, and the police left, right?"

Sweat beaded on Vernon's forehead.

"Yes—that's right. But the child was indeed put in solitary confinement; he made a mistake, and we—"

"What's wrong?"

"What?"

"What did he do wrong?" John repeated. "What did he do that required you to lock the back door from the outside and weld the second-floor windows shut?"

Vernon opened his mouth, but said nothing.

Penny chimed in, "He—he ran away, and we just don't want him to run away again. He's our nephew, and it's our responsibility to take care of him."

John glanced at her.

"ran away? Ran to where?"

"He's right there on the street. Sometimes he runs around, and we're worried about his safety."

"So you locked him up."

"It's—it's solitary confinement, not—"

"Lock the door from the outside and weld the windows shut," John asked meaningfully. "Is this solitary confinement or imprisonment?"

Vernon's face turned completely pale.

Penny's lips were trembling, but she still forced herself to say, "This is our family's private matter. What does it have to do with the royal family? That child is our nephew. How we manage him is our business."

John looked at her and smiled gently.

"Mrs. Dursley," he said, "do you know who your nephew is?"

Penny paused for a moment, her expression becoming complex—a mixture of confusion, wariness, and a hint of guilt.

"He—he is Lily's, my sister's, son—" she answered instinctively, her voice a few decibels weaker than before.

"Yes, he's your sister's son." John nodded, his tone still calm. "But did you know he has another identity?"

Penny opened her mouth, but said nothing.

Vernon rubbed his hands together, sweat beading on his forehead.

John's gaze shifted from Penny's face to Vernon's, then back to Penny's, as if he were watching some interesting performance.

"Let me tell you," he said. "Harry Potter is a friend of His Highness Henry."

Vernon's eyes widened.

"Henry—Your Highness?"

"Her Majesty the Queen's eldest grandson, the eldest son of the Prince of Wales and Princess Diana," John said slowly, "second in line to the British throne."

The air in the living room was completely still.

Vernon's mouth was agape enough to fit an egg, and Penny's legs went weak, almost causing her to sit back on the sofa. She had to hold onto the cabinet next to her to keep her balance.

"Friend—friend?" Vernon's voice trembled, becoming shrill and unlike that of a grown man. "That—that child, is he Prince Henry's friend?"

"Yes." John smiled slightly.

"But—but—" Vernon stammered, "How could he—how could he—why would His Highness allow you to..."

"Because that child is His Highness's friend," John said softly. "Because his friend was imprisoned, he sent people to investigate; because he found out the situation, he sent me to bring people; because he is a prince, he can do whatever he wants."

He paused for a moment and looked at Vernon.

"Is this reason sufficient?"

Vernon nodded vigorously, like a chick pecking at rice.

"Enough, enough, of course it's enough."

Penny stood beside her, her hands still trembling. Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

"By the way," John spoke again, casually, "I heard that Mr. Dursley's company was recently vying for a contract. It was a substantial contract; if they had won it, the company could have taken a big leap forward, and Mr. Dursley could have advanced in rank as well. But it didn't work out because of a small matter, right?"

Penny clutched her throat, gasping for breath; she knew what that meant.

Big brother is watching your value —

Vernon paused for a moment, then nodded frantically.

"Yes, yes, that order was important, but it was botched—"

He clearly didn't realize the seriousness of the situation.

"Did you mess it up?" John interrupted him, asking with a playful expression.

"You mean—" Vernon's small eyes suddenly lit up, and his breathing became rapid, clearly indicating that he had thought of a possibility.

"It will work," John said with a smile, then looked at Penny, who was pale and panting beside him. "But you need to grant His Highness a request."