The door to Snape's office swung open with a sharp creak. Shelves lined with potion ingredients stretched from floor to ceiling, their glass jars casting strange shadows beneath the greenish glow of hanging lamps. Preserved creatures floated in murky liquids while dried herbs hung from ceiling beams. The familiar scent of potion ingredients filled the air, creating an atmosphere that felt both scholarly and vaguely threatening. Harry had always found Snape's office intimidating, but tonight it seemed even worse somehow. Perhaps it was because he knew exactly why he was there. Ron swallowed hard as he entered behind Harry. Scorch peered around curiously from Ron's arms, seemingly fascinated by the various potion ingredients. The dragon's innocent interest only made Ron feel guiltier. He had dragged Scorch into this mess too.
The office door slammed shut behind them.
The sound made both boys jump.
Snape remained standing behind his desk for several moments without speaking. The silence stretched painfully. Harry shifted nervously while Ron stared at the floor. Snape's dark eyes studied them with an expression that reminded Harry of a hawk examining particularly foolish prey. There was no shouting. No immediate explosion of anger. Somehow, that made everything worse. Harry would almost have preferred yelling. The quiet disappointment radiating from Snape felt far more uncomfortable. Finally, the professor folded his arms across his chest.
"Tell me," Snape said softly.
Neither boy liked how soft his voice was.
"What precisely possessed you to believe flying an enchanted vehicle across Britain was a sensible course of action?"
Ron winced.
Harry exchanged a brief glance with his friend before answering. "We couldn't get through the barrier at King's Cross," he explained carefully. "We thought we'd miss the train." Even as he spoke, the explanation sounded weak. Harry knew it. Ron knew it. Snape certainly knew it. The Potions Master stared at them for several seconds.
"And your immediate solution," Snape said slowly, "was not to seek assistance from a member of staff." His voice grew colder. "Not to send an owl." He took a step forward. "Not to wait for your parents." Another step. "But instead to steal a magical automobile and fly it across the country."
Harry wished the stone floor would open beneath him. Ron looked as though he shared the sentiment.
"We weren't trying to cause trouble," Ron muttered.
"No?"
The single word dripped disbelief.
Snape moved around his desk and approached them. "Then perhaps I imagined the reports of a flying car being witnessed by numerous Muggles." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Perhaps the Ministry imagined them as well." Harry's stomach dropped. Ron's face turned pale. Neither boy had considered how many people might have actually seen them. At the time they had been too focused on reaching Hogwarts. Too focused on avoiding clouds and maintaining altitude. Now the reality of their actions settled heavily upon them. They hadn't simply broken school rules. They had endangered one of the most important laws in the wizarding world.
Snape reached toward his desk.
He picked up a folded newspaper.
Harry immediately recognized it.
The Daily Prophet.
His heart sank.
Without a word, Snape tossed the newspaper onto the desk in front of them. The headline seemed to leap off the page. Large bold letters dominated the front page. Harry felt his face burn the moment he saw them. Ron made a strangled noise that sounded suspiciously like despair. The moving photograph beneath the headline showed the battered Ford Anglia soaring through the clouds. Several tiny Muggle figures in the background pointed upward excitedly. The image looped endlessly. Harry wanted to look away. He couldn't.
FLYING FORD ANGILA SPOTTED OVER BRITAIN
MINISTRY INVESTIGATES MULTIPLE REPORTS
The article continued beneath.
Snape's voice cut through the silence.
"Read it."
Harry reluctantly picked up the newspaper.
His hands suddenly felt very heavy.
He scanned the article while Ron leaned over his shoulder. The report detailed numerous sightings across the country. Farmers. Businessmen. Families on holiday. Even airline personnel had apparently reported seeing a blue car flying through the sky. Ministry Obliviators had been dispatched throughout multiple regions to modify memories and contain the incident. Harry's stomach twisted tighter with every sentence. He had never truly understood how much work went into maintaining the Statute of Secrecy. Reading the article forced him to confront the consequences. Dozens of witches and wizards had spent their day cleaning up a mess he and Ron created in a matter of hours.
Ron looked sick.
Scorch climbed onto his shoulder and gently patted his ear.
The tiny dragon's gesture somehow made Ron feel worse.
"I..." Harry began quietly.
But he didn't know what to say.
Snape took the paper back.
For a brief moment, his expression shifted. The anger remained, but beneath it lay something else. Concern. Disappointment. Perhaps even relief that the boys had survived their reckless journey. Harry noticed it only because he had known Snape long enough to recognize the subtle changes. They vanished almost immediately behind the professor's usual mask. Still, the glimpse lingered. Snape exhaled slowly and set the newspaper aside. "The Statute of Secrecy exists for a reason," he said. "It protects our world. It protects our families. It protects magical children from fear and persecution." His voice was calm now. Controlled. Serious.
Harry listened carefully.
So did Ron.
"Centuries ago," Snape continued, "our world learned painful lessons about what happens when magic becomes public knowledge." He looked directly at them. "You may think today's society is more accepting. Perhaps it is." His gaze hardened. "Perhaps it is not." The office grew very quiet. Even Scorch stopped fidgeting. "The point is not whether exposure would be accepted," Snape said. "The point is that neither of you had the right to make that decision for every witch and wizard in Britain." Harry felt each word settle heavily in his chest. Ron lowered his head.
Neither boy had considered it that way.
Not until now.
The silence stretched.
Finally, Harry spoke.
"We're sorry, Professor."
Ron nodded immediately.
"Really sorry."
Snape studied them for several moments.
To Harry's surprise, he seemed satisfied that they genuinely meant it.
"I believe you are."
The words were unexpected.
Harry blinked.
Ron looked equally surprised.
Snape returned to his desk and sat down heavily. For a moment he looked older than usual, as though the day's events had exhausted even him. "Unfortunately," he said, "being sorry does not erase consequences."
Harry's shoulders sagged. There it was. The punishment. Ron braced himself. Detention seemed inevitable. Possibly for the rest of the year.
Snape reached for a parchment on his desk. "Professor McGonagall and I will determine appropriate disciplinary measures." His eyes narrowed slightly. "In addition, your parents have already been informed."
Ron groaned softly. Harry almost felt worse for Ron than for himself.
Scorch made a sympathetic chirping sound.
"Thank you, Mr. Dragon," Snape deadpanned.
The dragon blinked innocently.
For one fleeting second, Harry could have sworn he saw amusement flicker across Snape's face.
It vanished immediately.
"Now," Snape said briskly, rising from his chair, "you will proceed directly to the Great Hall. You will attend the Welcoming Feast." His gaze sharpened. "You will not discuss this incident with your classmates beyond what is already obvious." Harry nodded. Ron nodded even faster. "And if either of you so much as glances at another enchanted vehicle this year," Snape added, "I will personally ensure you spend every Saturday until graduation cleaning cauldrons." The threat sounded entirely believable. Harry swallowed. Ron looked horrified.
"Yes, Professor."
"Absolutely, Professor."
Snape gestured toward the door.
The boys quickly obeyed.
As they stepped into the corridor, Harry glanced back one final time. Snape was already seated at his desk again, staring at the Daily Prophet with a weary expression. For a moment Harry felt another stab of guilt. He had disappointed more than just a teacher. He had worried people who cared about him. Ron seemed to be thinking something similar as they walked toward the Great Hall. Neither boy spoke. Scorch settled atop Ron's shoulder while Hedwig hooted softly from her cage. The castle corridors felt quieter now. The excitement of returning to Hogwarts remained, but it was tempered by the lessons of the day. They had arrived. They were safe. Yet the consequences of their choices would not be forgotten anytime soon.
And somewhere deep within the Forbidden Forest, the Ford Anglia continued its new life among the trees, blissfully unaware that it had become front-page news.
ns216.73.217.55da2
and then Add to home screen.