Mr. Weasley couldn't understand how his wife had discovered his magical modification of the car.
But clearly, this wasn't the ti to investigate the cause.
He quickly winked at his wife, trying to charm his way out of trouble.
"Oh, darling, what I did wasn't actually illegal! As long as I don't intend to fly it, then even a car that can fly is still..."
"Arthur Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley called out her husband's full na.
As everyone knows, when you're called by your full na by a family elder, it usually doesn't bode well.
Although his wife wasn't Mr. Weasley's elder, this gesture still made him shudder involuntarily.
It was really a bit frightening.
"Your talk of legality is almost laughable!"
Mrs. Weasley looked at her husband, speaking each word distinctly.
"Do you think I don't know? You deliberately left a loophole in the law when you were writing it! Just so you could tinker with those Muggle contraptions in your shed! I'm telling you..."
Just as the two seed about to continue their argunt, a voice suddenly rang out.
"And now it's 'Witching Hour'—featuring the famous witch singer Celestina Warbeck."
The voice ca from an old radio by the sink.
This voice made Mrs. Weasley stop.
It also made her realize that arguing with her husband in front of guests wasn't very dignified.
She suppressed her anger. "In any case, you can drive there, but you cannot fly!"
"Naturally, dear Molly."
"Hmph, you'd better!"
Although Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were arguing, to everyone else, their behavior was no different from showing affection.
The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of love.
After dinner, Hermione politely offered to help Mrs. Weasley wash the dishes, but was stopped.
"Good child."
When facing Hermione, Mrs. Weasley imdiately beca kindly, "But those things wash themselves. You'd better hurry back to your room with Ginny!"
She casually pointed her wand at the dishes in the sink.
Soon, the dishes began washing themselves, creating a clinking sound like background music.
Seeing this scene, Mr. Hols and Mr. Granger exchanged glances, both showing envious expressions.
When Sherlock was about to return to his room, Mrs. Weasley called out to him.
"Sherlock, you're a good child too. Ron absolutely loves the wand you bought him. Here, this is a gift from ."
Sherlock was slightly stunned. "Madam, you already gave a gift at King's Cross station during the holidays."
"That was then, this is now—take it!
I didn't know your interests before, so I gave you a Honeydukes candy gift box. Now it seems this is more suitable for you—look, this is a magical bookmark I made."
Sherlock wasn't very good at dealing with such enthusiastic housewives and instinctively accepted it. Upon examination, he was sowhat surprised.
The material appeared to be hard, lustrous walnut wood, but Mrs. Weasley had carved it into the shape of a Gryffindor lion, with various detective-related designs engraved on it.
Including footprints, a magnifying glass, and a deerstalker hat.
'Wait, why was there a deerstalker hat?'
Seeing Sherlock's puzzled expression, Mrs. Weasley smiled, "I can't really say why, but I just felt you needed a hat like that."
Sherlock: "..."
Besides the fine craftsmanship, Mrs. Weasley had also applied a protective coating to the bookmark, making it more durable.
Finally, she had cast a simple spell on it, giving the bookmark the ability to automatically mark reading positions.
It must be said that although it was just a small bookmark, considerable thought had gone into it.
This showed that Mrs. Weasley's gratitude to Sherlock was genuine, not just for show.
Watching this scene, Mr. Hols couldn't help but feel emotional.
Sending his son to magic school was definitely the right decision!
That evening, no one went to sleep imdiately.
Ginevra Weasley's room was on the second floor—small but bright, with a window overlooking the Weasley family garden.
Similar to Ron's preferences, she had posted large posters of the Weird Sisters on her bedroom wall, along with a photo of Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies.
To Hermione's surprise, when alone with her, Ron's sister was completely different from her shy dayti deanor—like a completely different person.
She chattered away, asking Hermione about her experiences at Hogwarts the previous year.
Hermione happened to be naturally sociable, so under these circumstances, the two quickly beca familiar.
Hermione's way of addressing her changed from "Weasley" to "Ginevra," then from "Ginevra" to "Ginny."
"Ginny, you're going to Hogwarts this year too, aren't you?"
"Yes, but I still haven't received my acceptance letter..."
"Don't worry, you have to wait a bit longer," Hermione comforted her. "I hadn't received my acceptance letter at this ti last year either."
"Dad, Mum, and my brothers all say the sa thing."
Ginny nodded, then asked, "Hermione, could you tell again about when you faced You-Know-Who last year?"
Hearing Ginny's request, Hermione couldn't help but look sowhat helpless. "Oh, Ginny, I've already told it twice..."
"Tell it one more ti!"
Ginny hugged Hermione's arm and began acting coquettishly.
Faced with such a cute little girl, not only boys but even girls like Hermione couldn't resist.
She could only retell how Sherlock had led them through the trapdoor, successively passing Hagrid's three-headed dog Fluffy, Professor Sprout's Devil's Snare, Professor Flitwick's flying keys, Professor McGonagall's giant chess set, Professor Snape's logic puzzle, Quirrell's troll, Dumbledore's Mirror of Erised, and finally how their trio had faced Voldemort directly.
When Hermione spoke Voldemort's na, Ginny would shudder uncontrollably like other children raised in the wizarding world.
But she still kept asking about details of the events.
At first, Hermione thought she was concerned about her brother Ron.
But later she discovered that Ginny's attention was more focused on Sherlock.
This imdiately made Hermione alert, and she beca much more cautious in her speech.
But later still, Hermione found that Ginny's main focus was actually on Harry.
She imdiately breathed a secret sigh of relief.
"No wonder You-Know-Who ran away—the power of 'love' is so great it can even defeat You-Know-Who!"
Ginny's eyes sparkled with unusual brilliance as she excitedly waved her small fists.
"Love is infinite!"
Hermione. "..."
anwhile, small explosions could be heard from the third floor.
This was the room of the Weasley twins, Fred and George.
Since they often conducted various experints here, such sounds weren't unusual.
Not only that, but there was also a lingering scent that slled like gunpowder.
"Could you please keep it down!"
Percy's bedroom was also on the third floor.
He felt very annoyed about Ron being assigned to his room. He really needed private space right now. But it was only for one night, so he could manage.
But he hadn't expected the Weasley twins to make such a racket. He was furious and imdiately flung open his door to scold his brothers.
The twins paid him no mind, one playing straight man to the other's jokes, leaving Percy completely outmatched.
Soon, under their verbal assault, he could only defend himself without any ability to counter-attack.
Ron stood by the door, watching with great interest.
This was nothing!
The twins still hadn't forgotten the kick Percy had given them before the holidays!
Compared to the other rooms, Sherlock and Harry's was much more normal.
Both were looking forward to tomorrow's destination, and after a brief chat, they went to bed early.
The next day, after breakfast, the group prepared to depart.
A light blue Ford Anglia 105E Deluxe sedan sat quietly in front of the house.
Mr. Hols left the Rover he had driven in the Weasley family garage.
Because Mr. Weasley said one car would be enough.
This left everyone feeling incredulous.
There were seven of them—how could they all possibly fit into the Weasleys' small sedan?
Even though four of them were teenagers.
But when they actually got into the car, the truth naturally revealed itself.
Mr. Weasley's arrangent was as follows.
He sat in the driver's seat, with Ron in the front passenger seat.
Mr. Hols, Mr. Granger, plus the three teenagers Sherlock, Harry, and Hermione all sat in the back row.
By normal logic, this was clearly overloading.
Not only overloading, but even accommodating them would be difficult.
However.
Only when they actually sat in the back row of this magical car did they discover with amazent.
Although it looked almost identical to an ordinary small sedan from the outside, the back seat was as long as a park bench in Hyde Park!
The five of them sat side by side there, yet it was still spacious and comfortable, not feeling crowded at all.
Even one or two more people would be no problem.
Mr. Hols and Mr. Granger were astounded.
Although they had seen this car yesterday, they never imagined that beneath its seemingly ordinary exterior lay such wonders.
Just then, Mrs. Weasley knocked on the right window, and Mr. Weasley quickly rolled down the glass.
Mrs. Weasley looked back and, seeing how spacious the rear was, couldn't help but comnt.
"Muggles are even cleverer than we imagined—you can't tell from the outside that the car is so roomy inside, can you?"
Mr. Weasley coughed twice and turned to look at his two allies.
At this mont, both Mr. Hols and Mr. Granger's minds were racing.
Male camaraderie allowed them to quickly provide the perfect response.
"Exactly right, Mrs. Weasley!"
"That's precisely why we prefer traveling by car!"
Mr. Weasley subtly gave both n a thumbs up.
Indeed, whether wizard or Muggle, in certain matters there was no need for deliberate explanation.
Under Mrs. Weasley's affectionate gaze, Mr. Weasley steadily drove the car away.
Only after driving out of Ottery St. Catchpole did he breathe a long sigh of relief.
"This absolutely cannot be told to Molly."
Mr. Weasley said to the others, "She's always believed this was achieved through Muggle technology."
"If that were true, this story would change from fantasy to science fiction," Hermione remarked unusually.
Mr. Granger, being a romantic, couldn't help but comnt.
"Such things are hard to say—perhaps in the near future, we really could achieve space-folding technology!"
"What, Muggles can really do such things?"
"Er, I an there are similar concepts in so literary works."
"What wonderful imagination! Tell more!"
Even while driving, Mr. Weasley didn't stop talking for a mont.
"Mr. Hols, Mr. Granger, you know —I'm extrely interested in all of this..."
And so, Mr. Weasley continued in this manner for so ti.
Until he stopped the car to check directions, Ron took the opportunity to offer to take over for his father.
"You can drive?"
"You actually know how to drive?"
Hearing Ron's words, both Harry and Hermione looked surprised.
Noticing his two friends' expressions, Ron felt delighted.
He casually glanced at Sherlock and, seeing a hint of surprise in his friend's eyes as well, felt even more pleased.
"Ha! Ha! Ha! You might not believe it, but for , this is as simple as child's play!"
When saying this, he even deliberately mimicked Sherlock's tone.
Seeing Ron's expression, Sherlock smiled slightly. "Dear Ron, although you seem very confident saying that, but..."
"Ahem!"
Just as Sherlock said "but," Harry imdiately coughed twice.
Hermione and he simultaneously grabbed Sherlock from both sides.
"Sherlock, let's just watch Ron's performance!"
At this mont, both of them understood perfectly.
Under no circumstances could they let Sherlock finish that sentence!
As the saying goes, a father knows his son best, and Mr. Weasley naturally understood what Ron was thinking.
As an enlightened father, he naturally didn't mind giving his son a push at a ti like this.
"Alright then, I could use a break anyway. You drive, and I'll give you directions."
The two quickly switched between driver and passenger seats.
Ron was both excited and thrilled at this mont.
Ti to show his real skills!
His back was straight, his right hand firmly gripping the steering wheel, his left hand loosely holding the gear shift, his left foot on the clutch, as he spoke with supre confidence.
"Starting a front-wheel-drive civilian car requires controlling the force of your left foot at the clutch's friction point—this way, you get better traction."
"Whoa!"
"Impressive!"
Harry and Hermione both showed admiring expressions.
It sounded very professional!
Even Mr. Hols and Mr. Granger nodded approvingly.
Ron was right—that was indeed the principle.
Under everyone's watchful eyes, Ron took a deep breath.
Just as he had said, he lifted his left foot, slowly releasing the clutch.
At the mont he reached the friction point, his right foot pressed hard on the accelerator.
"Here goes nothing!"
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