Chapter 166 Henry's Help

Chapter 166 Henry's Help

Lucy's eyes widened; she could hardly believe it.

"Your Highness, you are Rang Dobi—"

"I didn't give him anything," Henry denied. "I just told him a fact."

"Lucy understands," Lucy said softly, then asked, "Your Highness, are you really willing to do this for a little elf?"

"He's no ordinary elf," Henry said. "He's an elf who wants to protect others. Although he used the wrong methods and was clumsy, his heart was good."

"Such a little sprite deserves to be helped," he concluded.

Lucy lowered her head and remained silent for a while.

Then she looked up at him.

"Your Highness, Lucy is honored to work for you."

"Go quickly, but don't let anyone find out," Henry said with a smile.

Lucy nodded and then disappeared with a snap.

Henry emerged from behind the tree and returned to the crowd.

In the distance, George and Fred were jogging slowly across the grass on Cecilion.

The scene looked a bit comical—two red-haired young men were riding on the back of a hippogriff, one holding the reins and the other holding onto the waist of the person in front of him, their faces saying, "We're doing something really cool."

William and Harry chased after him. Harry was running so fast that he almost fell, but he quickly got up and continued the chase.

His laughter echoed across the entire hillside, as clear and crisp as a wind chime.

Philip sat on the grass, watching them, his smile brighter than the sunshine.

He held the cane in his hand, tapping it on the ground every now and then, but his eyes never left the group of children.

Newt remained seated in the corner, his notebook resting on his lap. He would occasionally glance up at it before looking down again to continue writing.

He wrote with great concentration, occasionally frowning as if he were pondering some important question.

Ron and Harry sat under the tree, talking about something.

Ron gestured with his hands in the air, and Harry listened attentively, nodding occasionally.

Henry went over and sat down next to them.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Let's talk about Quidditch," Ron said, turning around. "Harry said Gryffindor's training methods are different from yours, and I'm asking him for details."

"Is your Slytherin training particularly rigorous?" Harry asked.

"It's alright," Henry said. "Flint is a bit serious, but not to an abnormal degree."

"Flint? That guy who looks like he's aged too late?" Ron scoffed.

"He does look a bit older than his age," Harry couldn't help but laugh.

The three of them laughed for a while.

Ron suddenly remembered something and lowered his voice to ask, "Your Highness, about that elf—do you really have a way?"

Henry looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, then nodded.

"have."

"What method?"

Henry didn't answer directly, but instead asked Harry, "Do you know how house-elves gain their freedom?"

Harry thought for a moment.

"It seems—their master gave them the clothes?"

“Yes,” Henry said. “If their master gives them a real garment, they are set free. It’s a tradition of house-elves, and it’s also their bondage.”

Ron interjected, "Then let's try to get Malfoy to give that elf a piece of clothing?"

"It's not that simple." Henry shook his head. "Malfoy won't just give clothes to an elf. For him to give them to you willingly, there has to be a suitable opportunity."

"When?" Harry looked at him expectantly.

"It's a secret," Henry said with a smile.

Harry nodded, but his expression still showed some worry.

"Will he be alright? I mean, if Malfoy finds out he's contacted outsiders—"

"He won't know," Henry said. "House-elves have their own way of communicating and won't be detected. Lucy is very careful."

""

As evening falls, the sun begins to set in the west.

The clouds on the horizon were dyed orange-red, like a burning ocean.

On the distant hillside, several wild rabbits poked their heads out of their burrows, but were startled by the voices around the campfire and quickly retreated back inside.

In the evening, Charles and Diana returned, since the children were still there.

Charlie had dinner prepared by the campfire—still stew, but with a different flavor, served with freshly baked bread and a large plate of fruit.

The large iron pot hung over the campfire, bubbling and steaming, with chunks of meat and vegetables tumbling in the broth, releasing an enticing aroma.

Everyone sat around the campfire, eating and chatting.

The campfire burned brightly, the flames flickering, and sparks occasionally flew into the night sky before disappearing into the darkness.

Harry sat next to Philip, telling him about the day's new discoveries.

His little face still had a bit of dirt on it, probably from running around too much in the afternoon, but he was completely oblivious, talking animatedly with his little hands waving in the air, almost sweeping the napkin next to him into the fire.

"Cecilion has soft feathers under its wings!" he gestured, his eyes wide. "When I touched it, it twitched, like this—" He mimicked the twitching motion, his whole body jerking comically. "Then it turned to look at me, its eyes were so big, but it didn't glare at me, just looked at me, and then kept walking. Its eyes were orange-yellow, as bright as Norbert's!"

Cecilion is that hippogriff, a winged beast with the head of a hippo and the body of a horse. Philip named it, and both the man and the beast were quite satisfied with the name.

Philip nodded and asked earnestly, "Are the scales of Binobeta comfortable?"

This question clearly stumped Harry. He frowned, tilted his head, and thought for a long time. His expression was sometimes conflicted and sometimes enlightened, as if he was pondering some important life question.

He tapped his chin with his finger and made an "hmm" sound, looking just like a little adult.

"It's different." He finally concluded, holding up a finger and saying solemnly, "Noberta's scales are cool, slippery, and feel like—"

'

He thought for a moment, trying to find a metaphor, his gaze wandering around before finally settling on Diana's wrist.

"It's like Mom's jewelry box! That silver one, so smooth!"

Diana couldn't help but laugh.

Do you remember that jewelry box?

"I remember!" Harry proudly puffed out his little chest. "You let me touch you once, and said you weren't allowed to tell Daddy."

, 3

Charles coughed beside her, and Diana blinked innocently, smiling like a little fox.

That was a long time ago.

"I remember!" Harry continued, "There were lots of sparkly things inside, a necklace, a pair of earrings, and a gold coin—"

"Alright, alright," Diana interrupted him with a smile, "I'll show you when we get back."

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