Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Chapter 146 Harry Leaves

John saw a boy sitting on the single bed against the wall.

Black hair, a messy clump, as if it hadn't been washed for days.

He wore round-framed glasses with a few smudges on the lenses. He was very thin and wore an oversized old T-shirt with a distorted collar from washing, on which was printed a line of text—probably the name of some rock band, but the letters were too blurry to read.

He sat there, looking at the doorway, his eyes showing no fear, only vigilance.

John looked at him without saying a word.

The boy looked at him too, without saying a word.

The silence lasted for a moment, then John spoke, his voice much softer than when he had spoken to the Dursleys.

"Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded, still wary.

"I am John Hawthorne," John said. "His Highness Henry sent me to fetch you."

Harry was stunned, and it took him a long time to react.

"Henry?"

"Yes," John nodded.

"That...that Prince Henry of Slytherin?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Yes," John nodded with a smile.

"He—why—" Harry asked incredulously.

"Because you have a friend named Ron Weasley," John said. "He wrote a letter asking Your Highness to help him find you."

Harry lowered his head, remained silent for a moment, then raised his head, his spirits lifted.

"I'll go with you!" he said resolutely.

He jumped out of bed and started packing his things.

John stood in the doorway, watching his retreating figure.

The boy moved quickly, clearly not a first-time packer. He pulled a suitcase from under the bed and began stuffing things into it.

A white owl flew over from the corner, landed on his shoulder, tilted its head to look at him, and made a soft cooing sound.

"Hedwig," the boy said softly, "let's go."

The owl hooted once, as if to say yes.

John looked at the owl, then at the tattered box, and finally landed on the boy's face.

The face was thin and pale, but it had a pair of bright eyes—emerald green, like two gemstones.

"Are you all packed?" he asked.

The boy nodded and picked up the suitcase.

The box looked heavy, but he carried it steadily, clearly used to it.

"Let's go," John said.

He turned and went out, the boy following behind him.

The boy walked very quietly downstairs, as if afraid of disturbing someone.

But he was clearly overthinking it.

Downstairs, Vernon was standing at the top of the stairs, his fat face all squeezed together, his big, chubby face grinning like a giant flower, as if welcoming some VIP.

"Harry!" he called, his voice unusually enthusiastic. "You're down! That's wonderful! This gentleman is here to pick you up, you know? You're going to Kensington Palace! It's the prince's palace! What a great opportunity!"

Harry looked at him, unsure of what to say for a long time.

Just three days ago, this person locked him in a room, with the door locked from the outside and the windows welded shut, preventing anyone from seeing him.

Of course, I've never really looked at him properly in the past ten years, never called him by his name, only called him "boy" or "you," and never called him Harry.

Now this person smiles like a flower and calls him "Harry".

Harry didn't say anything, he just nodded.

Vernon's enthusiasm did not diminish in the slightest because of Harry's indifference; for the sake of three million pounds, no one would make things difficult for the boy.

Of course, he wasn't without suspicion about the person in front of him, but an ordinary person wouldn't know so much about his family's situation.

"Um, Mr. Hawthorne," he turned to John, "that order you mentioned earlier—does it really come to fruition?"

John glanced at him.

"Your Highness keeps your word."

Vernon's mouth stretched even wider.

"Thank you, thank you so much, Your Highness!"

Penny stood to the side, without saying a word.

She looked at Harry, opened her mouth as if to say something, but ultimately said nothing.

Harry glanced at Petunia, then dragged his suitcase toward the door without the slightest hesitation.

He was absolutely fed up with the Dursleys and would pay any price to get rid of them!

He stopped when he reached the door.

It wasn't because I was reluctant to part with them, but because someone rushed down from upstairs.

"Hello!"

A huge figure rolled down the stairs—no, it ran down.

It was a boy, about the same age as Harry, but three times wider.

He was wearing a striped polo shirt, and his face looked sleepy.

"Dali!" Penny shouted, "What are you doing down here?"

Dudley ignored her. He stared at Harry, then at John, and finally at the box in Harry's hand.

"Are you leaving?" he asked.

Harry looked at him and nodded.

Dudley was silent for a moment, then said, "What about your game console? You won't be able to play it anymore if you leave, right? Give it to me."

Harry: ————

John's expression was somewhat ambiguous; he looked at Vernon, then at Penny.

Penny's face immediately turned bright red.

"Dali!" she shrieked, "What did you say?!"

"What's wrong?" Dudley asked innocently. "He's gone, so the game console is mine now, isn't it? I've already played his game console before."

"You can keep it and play with it," Harry said, dragging the suitcase as he continued walking out.

Dudley pursed his lips and turned to Vernon.

"Dad, he's gone. Can I stay in his room? It's smaller than mine, but the window on the second floor has a view of the street—"

Vernon's face turned red, but not from shame, but from holding his breath.

"Shut up!" he roared.

Dali was startled by the shout, then pouted in grievance.

"What's wrong? I was just asking—"

Outside the door, the Land Rover was parked quietly on the side of the road.

John opened the back door, Harry put the suitcase inside, and then got in himself.

Hedwig perched on his shoulder, then climbed in and landed on the back seat, curiously looking around the car.

John got into the driver's seat and started the car.

The car smoothly drove off Privet Road and headed towards London.

Harry leaned back in his seat, watching the scenery rushing past the window.

"Are you hungry?" John's voice came from the front.

Harry snapped out of his daze and paused for a moment.

"ah?

""

"I asked you if you were hungry," John said. "It takes more than an hour to get from Privet Drive to Kensington Palace. If you're hungry, there's a rest stop up ahead where you can buy something."

"No, thank you," Harry said.

John glanced at him in the rearview mirror but didn't say anything.

The car continued forward, and after a while, Harry spoke again.

"Um—" he said, "Henry—His Highness—did he really send you to pick me up?"

"Yes," John replied, adding a joke, "You're not even sure who I am, yet you dare to come with me?"