Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Chapter 153 Weasley's Visit

The garden was quiet for a moment, then the car door opened, and Ron was the first to climb out.

His legs were shaking, trembling as if they were being sieved.

He leaned against the car door, panting heavily, his face as white as paper, so white it could even reflect the moonlight.

"I'll never ride this bus again!" he shouted, his voice trembling. "Never again! Never!"

George leaned out of the driver's seat, looking completely innocent.

"You always say that, but you'll still come with us next time, won't you?"

Fred jumped down from the other side and brushed the grass clippings off his clothes.

He had a few blades of grass stuck to his robe and a leaf tucked into his hair, but he was oblivious to them, only watching the car with excitement.

"The landing went alright, didn't it? Much better than last time. Last time it crashed into the swamp, and it took us three hours to pull the car out."

"That's because you landed on the swamp!" Ron roared, his voice trembling with tears. "You did it on purpose!"

"Uh—that's true." George touched his nose. "But was this intentional?"

"No," Fred answered for him, his expression as serious as if he were giving an academic presentation. "This time we wanted to land on the lawn, but we didn't get the direction right."

"Thanks for your honesty." George rolled his eyes.

Just then, a flashlight beam shone from the other end of the garden.

The light was very bright, shining directly on the car and on the three red-haired men.

They squinted, blinded by the light, and raised their hands to shield their eyes.

"Who's there?"

A deep voice came from behind.

Harry looked in the direction of the light and saw Prince Philip standing on the garden path, holding a flashlight, his nightgown fluttering slightly in the night breeze.

His hair was a little messy, probably because of the night wind. His expression was alert and curious, his eyes squinting as he tried to see clearly what was falling from the sky.

He saw the silver car and noticed the three red-haired men standing next to it, and his eyebrows rose.

"What is this?"

George and Fred exchanged a glance, then looked at the person holding the flashlight.

Under the moonlight, they couldn't see his face clearly, but they could see that he stood very straight, exuding an indescribable air of authority.

It's a kind of temperament that only those who have seen the world possess; it comes from within.

"Uh—" George began, his voice a little dry, "This is our car."

"Your car?" Philip took a few steps closer, his flashlight beam sweeping across the Ford, from the front to the back, and then back again.

The car was covered in mud, with a few blades of grass hanging from the roof. The front bumper was bent, and one of the rearview mirrors was missing.

"It was flying in the sky just now," he asked.

"Yes," Fred said, trying to appear calm.

He straightened his back, but his legs were trembling: "It can fly."

Philip took a few more steps closer. He knew, of course, that something unusual was about to happen that night—Henry’s classmate was going to visit Kensington Palace in a flying car and had already informed the guards in advance.

But that doesn't stop the old man from joking around with the children; it doesn't hurt their health.

"Who are you?" Philip asked, his gaze sweeping across their faces.

George and Fred exchanged a glance, then looked at Ron beside them.

He and Fred straightened up at the same time, trying to make themselves look less like weirdos who had just crawled out of a flying wrecked car.

The fact that this person is here at this time, and is so old, means there's only one answer: he is 100% Henry's grandfather.

"Your Highness!" George tried to keep his voice calm. "We are George Weasley and Fred Weasley, and this is my brother Ron Weasley. We are Harry's classmates, and also His Highness Henry's—uh—"

He was a little unsure how to define his relationship with Henry.

Friends? That seems a bit too much of a stretch.

He's a prince, and I'm just a child from an ordinary wizarding family. Isn't it shameless of me to call him a friend?

classmate?

They're too distant; it makes it seem like they don't have a good relationship.

Acquaintance? No, that's not quite right either; that word is too ambiguous.

"Friends?" Fred chimed in, his tone uncertain.

Philip's gaze swept across their faces before settling on the car.

"Henry's friend?"

"Yes!" Fred nodded vigorously, almost knocking his head off. "We're Henry's classmates! At Hogwarts! Slytherin and Gryffindor aren't in the same house, but we're good friends! We often have tea together!"

Philip looked at the car, then at them, and suddenly smiled.

When he smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes gathered together, but he looked ten years younger.

"Can this car fly?"

"able!"

Upon hearing the car's name, George immediately perked up, all his earlier tension vanishing.

"My dad modified it! His name is Arthur Weasley, and he works at the Ministry of Magic. He's particularly fond of Muggle stuff, and this car is one that he spent several years modifying. He added flight capabilities and invisibility, although the invisibility seems to have some issues now; it can only be partially invisible."

"Only half-hidden?" Philip's interest was piqued, his eyes lighting up. "What kind of effect is that?"

"It's like this—" George thought for a moment, gesturing with his hands, "The front half of the car can become invisible, but the back half cannot. So when it's driving, it looks like half a car is flying in the sky."

Philip paused for a moment, then burst into laughter.

The laughter sounded particularly loud in the quiet night, startling a flock of birds in the distant trees.

The birds fluttered up and circled in the night sky, emitting dissatisfied cries.

"Interesting!" he said, wiping away tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand. "So funny!"

He walked over to the car and circled it.

He tapped on the hood, making a thumping sound; he crouched down to look at the chassis and touched the exposed pipes; then he stood up, opened the car door, and peered inside, studying the strange buttons and dials.

"Is this thing sturdy?"

"It's alright," Fred said. "It's been in a few crashes, but it's been fixed. Once my dad was driving it and it fell out of the sky, and the roof got dented. He tapped it with a spell, and it bounced back up."

"A spell?" Philip looked up.

"It's magic," George explained. "A healing spell, pretty simple."

Philip nodded, seemingly lost in thought.

He stood up, looked at George and Fred with an eager expression, as if an eighteen-year-old boy still lived inside him.

"Can you take me for a spin?"

George and Fred were both stunned.

Ron gasped in shock; anyone who didn't know better would have thought he'd been bitten by a spider.