Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

Chapter 155 Still Vigorous in Old Age

George glanced down at him, his face full of innocence.

"You don't need to go up. This time, His Highness can sit alone."

"Alone?!" Ron's voice trembled. "You're letting a seventy-year-old man ride alone in this beat-up car? Twice? George, are you insane?!"

"So what if I'm over seventy?" Philip looked at him. "I can still fly fighter jets, hunt, and a beat-up car is no problem for me."

Ron opened his mouth, as if to say something, but found himself at a loss for words.

He could only look helplessly in the direction of the mansion, hoping that someone would come to save him—not him, but this crazy old man.

The savior had truly arrived; the door opened, and Henry walked out.

He was wearing pajamas with a light jacket over them, and walked up to them at a leisurely pace.

"Grandpa," he called out.

Philip turned around.

"Henry? What are you doing out here?"

"If I don't come out soon, you could fly all over London tonight." Henry walked up to him, glanced at the flying Ford, then at Ron sprawled on the grass. "It's already eleven o'clock."

"It's only eleven o'clock," Philip said nonchalantly. "When I was young, I didn't start my nightlife until midnight."

"That was fifty years ago," Henry said. "And you're wearing a nightgown now."

Philip looked down at his nightgown, then at Henry, and said matter-of-factly, "What's wrong with the nightgown?"

Even a bathrobe can fly.

Henry paused for a moment, then asked, "Does Grandma know?"

Philip's expression froze, but he quickly waved his hand dismissively: "Your grandmother? What does she know? She's not even here—"

"I know you're wearing a bathrobe in the middle of the night, riding in a broken-down flying car, doing somersaults in the sky," Henry said, tilting his head.

Philip coughed twice, sounding somewhat awkward.

"She—she doesn't need to know."

"Tomorrow's front page of The Sun will probably be about Prince Philip's nighttime car chase—is it a new royal trend or just senile dementia?" Henry said without batting an eye. "Grandma will find out then."

Philip stared at him.

"You little brat, threatening me?"

"It's not a threat," Henry said, "it's a reminder."

Philip snorted, but his momentum clearly weakened.

He looked at the car, then at George and Fred, and finally sighed.

"Alright, let's call it a day."

George and Fred exchanged a glance, their faces showing disappointment.

"Your Highness, what about tomorrow?" George asked. "Can we still fly tomorrow?"

Philip's eyes lit up again.

"tomorrow?"

"Yes, we can do it again tomorrow night. It'll be darker then, so we can fly higher and even try a rapid dive—"

—

"George!" Ron cried out in despair once again.

Philip ignored him and looked at Henry instead.

Henry sighed.

"We'll talk about tomorrow's problems tomorrow. Now, you should go back to sleep."

19

Philip nodded and patted George on the shoulder.

"Young man, let's talk again tomorrow."

George nodded vigorously, a bright smile on his face, while Fred nodded along with him.

Philip turned and walked toward the palace, but turned back halfway there.

"Oh, right, I remember you said this car was modified by your dad, right?" Philip said. "Have him come over sometime, I'd like to have a chat with him."

"Really, Your Highness?" the twins exclaimed in unison.

"Of course it's true," Philip said. "I'm particularly interested in things that can fly."

He turned and continued walking, but after taking two steps he stopped and looked back.

"By the way, that car, you said the camouflage only covers half of it?"

"Yes," George said, "the first half can be hidden, but the second half cannot."

Philip thought for a moment, then suddenly smiled.

"When it flies, doesn't it look like half a car floating in the sky?"

George paused for a moment, then laughed.

"Yes! It's incredibly eerie!"

Philip laughed heartily; this time he was genuinely happy.

"Great! I want to see this tomorrow! Half a car flying in the sky!"

He waved and strode towards the palace.

Henry followed behind, took a few steps, then turned back to look at George and Fred.

"You should also go to sleep early. The guest rooms are on the east side; the butler will take you there."

"Yes, Your Highness." George gave a salute in a comical manner, mimicking the guards.

Henry entered the palace, and the doors closed.

Ron was still lying motionless on the grass.

George walked over and kicked his leg.

"Is he dead?"

"Soon," Ron said weakly. "You scared me to death."

"Is it really that big of a deal? It just flew around a few times." Fred laughed from the side.

"How many laps?" Ron sat bolt upright, pointing to the sky. "Eight laps! Eight somersaults! Ten dives! Do you know what I felt like in the back? I felt like a rag being thrown into a washing machine!"

"That's quite a vivid description," George said with a smile.

Ron stared at him without saying a word.

Fred chimed in from the side, "Alright, alright, everything's fine now, isn't it? Besides, His Highness is very happy."

"Your Highness is happy, but I'm not," Ron said. "I'm sure I'll have nightmares tonight."

"What kind of nightmare were you having?"

"I dreamt that I fell from the sky."

George patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, even if it falls, I'll be the first one to fall, I'm the driver."

Ron looked at him with an extremely complicated expression.

"Your way of comforting people is quite unique."

George chuckled. "Let's go inside and get some sleep. We still have flights to take tomorrow."

Ron's face turned pale again.

"Fly again?!"

"Of course," Fred said. "His Highness Philip wants to see half of the car floating in the sky tomorrow."

Ron closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm going to write to my mother and tell her that if she still wants to see her youngest son, she should bring me back right away."

George and Fred exchanged a glance and smiled simultaneously.

They lifted Ron up and walked toward the palace, laughing and joking, just like Tom was being carried by a few stray cats.

Under the moonlight, three red-haired figures walked further and further away, leaving only the Ford car parked quietly on the lawn.

Some grass clippings were still stuck to the car body, glistening in the moonlight.

The guest room is on the third floor on the east side. It is a suite with two bedrooms and a shared living room.

George and Fred shared a room, while Ron had a room to himself.

Ron lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep for a long time.

I could hear George and Fred whispering next door, discussing tomorrow's flight plans and how to make the car look cooler.

Ron rolled over and covered his ears with the pillow.

Unfortunately, it was no use.