A remote valley somewhere in Cornwall.
The valley hugged a long-dried streambed, winding its way toward the hazy grey horizon. A few scattered cottages sat lazily on the gentle slopes at the bottom of the valley.
Inside one of these cottages, two men in black robes leaned against a table, drinking Black Vine Frost Whiskey and swapping crude jokes.
Suddenly, with a loud bang, the door was kicked open. A slender woman dashed inside, wearing a light, narrow-sleeved style of wizarding robes. If Julien had been there, he would have found the outfit quite familiar.
"Ross, Gilbert. With me! Emergency mission!"
"What's the rush, Caroline?" the two men asked, though they sprang to their feet without a moment's hesitation.
"Just got an urgent tip. A modified Muggle car was spotted flying near Ottery St Catchpole, driven by two underage wizards," the woman said rapidly.
"Is it the same one we spotted by chance at the beginning of August?"
"The very same."
"What does that have to do with us?"
"Idiots! If a car that massive wants to turn invisible, it has to have an Astrite Stone. It can be used for both concealment and revealing. If we can get our hands on it, we might finally be able to find Starfall Cove. You don't want to let that wolf cub beat us to it again, do you?"
The moment the three of them stepped outside, they summoned their broomsticks and rocketed into the sky.
---
At this moment, Harry was secretly feeling quite grateful that the barrier at the station had been blocked; otherwise, they never would have gotten to see such a thrilling view.
Sunlight pierced through the clouds, shattering against the windshield of the Ford Anglia 150 into thousands of golden fragments.
Ron gripped the steering wheel with both hands—if you could even call it a steering wheel anymore, considering Mr. Weasley had bolted on at least three extra levers and two rotary dials. The initial panic on Ron's face was gradually being replaced by an indescribable thrill.
"This is wicked!" he shouted, his voice torn apart by the roaring wind. "Well, how about it? Much better than a broomstick, eh?!"
Harry leaned out the passenger window, his messy black hair whipping wildly in the wind.
Below them, the English countryside unfurled like a flowing tapestry: emerald pastures, golden wheat fields, and winding silver rivers, all stretching out as far as the eye could see.
He remembered how the Weasley twins had used this exact car to rescue him from the Dursleys in the dead of night just last month.
But back then, he hadn't been able to see a thing. He had just clung to his seat in the dark, praying they wouldn't crash during the bumpy ride.
But now... "Wooohooo! Hahaha!" Harry stuck an arm out the window, letting the wind slap against his palm. "I'm the king of the world!"
The two of them laughed and joked for a while. "Ron, look over there!" Harry pointed toward an ancient castle in the distance. "That's Warwick Castle! I saw it in one of the Dursleys' travel brochures!"
"Should we fly a bit lower and get a closer look?" Ron's eyes sparkled. "We might even be able to scare a few Muggles!"
"No, wait—" Harry suddenly snapped back to his senses. "Muggles! They'll see us!"
Ron's smile froze. He frantically began slapping at the dashboard. "Oh right. I forgot. The Invisibility button... the Invisibility button... Dad said we absolutely have to use the Invisibility button..."
"Is it this one?" Harry pointed to a blue button painted with a picture of an eye. Right above it, in Mr. Weasley's messy scrawl, were the words: Press Me (Probably).
Ron slammed his hand down on the button.
A ripple washed over the car, as if the air itself had turned into the surface of a lake. The sunlight refracted and distorted across the chassis, and then—the Ford Anglia vanished.
It didn't exactly turn transparent; rather, it perfectly blended into the background. The blue sky above, the green fields below, the clouds in the distance—everything seamlessly stitched together over the car. From a Muggle's perspective, there were no flaws to be seen from any angle.
"It worked!" Ron cheered. "Dad's a genius inventor!"
Harry didn't reply. His gaze fell to a small, inconspicuous stone tucked in the corner of the dashboard, right beneath the blue button.
It was a piece of black ore the size of a fist, covered in a dense network of silver veins. It hadn't been noticeable before, but now that the Invisibility mechanism was running, it was glowing faintly.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Oh, that," Ron cast a quick glance at it. "Think Dad bought it off some old wizard in Knockturn Alley. A normal Disillusionment Charm can't cover the whole car, but it works with this stone. Supposed to be some sort of 'Astrite Stone' that boosts concealment magic."
He patted the steering wheel proudly. "When the twins flew out to get you last time, this is how they dodged the Muggle radar—"
"Wow, magic really is amazing, I love..." Harry's words died in his throat. Staring into the side mirror, his face suddenly drained of color.
"Ron," his voice was soft, carrying an unnatural calm. "There's someone behind us."
Ron whipped his head around.
Three black dots were shooting up rapidly from beneath the clouds. Not birds, not airplanes, but three broomsticks—though they were much longer and thicker than ordinary brooms, with pale grey smoke jetting from their tail twigs.
The figures riding them were cloaked in dark grey, their hoods pulled low to obscure their faces.
The Invisibility button was clearly useless against them. They were making a beeline straight for the car, drawing closer by the second.
"Wizards?" Ron's voice cracked. "You don't think it's the Ministry coming to arrest us, do you?"
"No," Harry narrowed his eyes as the figures closed in under the sunlight. The leader had already pulled up alongside the car.
"I don't think that's a Ministry badge." Harry had gotten a clear look at the emblem on the side of the broomstick—a black crescent moon entwined with thorns.
He felt like he'd seen that mark somewhere before. Was it in that book Julien had shown him?
Just as Harry and Ron were about to ask what the pursuers wanted, the other party made it clear they had no intention of chatting. The lead rider suddenly raised a hand.
A beam of green light shot from their palm. It wasn't the blinding, sickly green of the Killing Curse, but a murky, muddy color, like stagnant water.
The green light slammed into the rear of the Ford Anglia. The Invisibility mechanism let out a piercing whine, and the car flickered violently in the air like a TV with a bad signal.
"They're attacking us!" Ron frantically wrenched the steering wheel, throwing the flying car into a clumsy arc. "Bloody hell, this thing turns way slower than a broomstick!"
A second green beam struck. This time it hit the roof, shaking the luggage rack so hard that a trunk popped open slightly.
"Then let's try this!" Ron gritted his teeth and smashed another button—a red one painted with a picture of flames.
A thick plume of smoke blasted from the exhaust pipe, and the Ford Anglia lunged forward like a kicked mule.
The speedometer needle spun wildly, quickly blowing past the "Danger" mark and settling on a handwritten label from Mr. Weasley that read: Very Dangerous (Seriously).
The wind roared in their ears, and Harry felt as though his face was being blown out of shape. He struggled to turn around and check on their pursuers through the rear window.
The enemy's broomsticks were clearly heavily modified. Even though the Ford Anglia had accelerated to its absolute limit, they were still steadily gaining ground.
"They're too fast!" Ron yelled, wrestling with the steering wheel. "We have to do something!"
The third green beam hit the rear window. The glass didn't shatter; instead, it rippled like water.
It seemed Mr. Weasley had installed defensive charms, but Harry could see the ripples fading rapidly. One more hit, and the glass would likely shatter.