Chapter 102: At Mont-Saint-Michel

Chapter 102: At Mont-Saint-Michel

Harry's excitement faded within three minutes of their departure.

He clung tightly to the handle above the car door, his face pale with anxiety, and asked nervously,

"Professor, have you really learned how to drive?"

Upon hearing his skills questioned, Sherlock immediately pulled out the original owner's British driver's license.

"Are you kidding? I've been driving for three years now!"

"Don't, don't look at me, Professor! Look at the road! There's a tree ahead!"

Harry screamed, and Sherlock calmly tapped the brakes, swerved the steering wheel, and the car stalled on the spot.

The difference between a left-hand drive and a right-hand drive car was far more significant than Sherlock had imagined, especially given that the cars from the 1990s were quite different from those of thirty years later.

This made it more challenging for him to get used to.

Harry was still visibly shaken, but Sherlock restarted the car and reassured him,

"Don't worry, it was just a minor mishap. We'll definitely—"

Harry, looking like a frightened rabbit, jumped up from his seat, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling.

"I believe you, Professor! Please don't say another word! I believe you!"

His voice was almost pleading. Harry no longer had high expectations.

At the Dursleys, the worst he faced was doing chores, eating poorly, and getting scolded. But if Sherlock accidentally said the wrong thing, it could end up with him missing a limb, which would be a cause for celebration.

Sherlock, seeing Harry's extreme reaction, shrugged helplessly and began to seriously familiarize himself with the right-hand drive.

They arrived at the nearest shopping center and bought Harry a lot of snacks. Sherlock also picked out some well-fitting clothes for Harry, who was touched and embarrassed by the gesture.

Of course, Sherlock paid for everything.

The original owner wasn't a wealthy person in either the magical or Muggle world, but he had some savings. Muggle money wasn't something he often spent, so Sherlock didn't feel bad about using it.

With the car loaded with supplies, Harry took the opportunity to write letters to Ron and Hermione, sending them with Hedwig to let them know his current situation.

Sherlock had already planned their route, starting with a trip to London.

"How are we going to get to France, Professor?" Harry, wearing his new clothes and munching on chips, asked.

Sherlock, keeping his eyes on the road, replied,

"The Muggle world's tunnel connecting France and Britain won't be operational until next year, so we'll head to the Port of London, take a ferry, and then arrive at the northern French city of Caen."

Of course, if they used some Wizard means, it wouldn't be nearly as complicated.

But Sherlock was out for a change of scenery, and the method of travel wasn't important as long as he was happy.

They had no intention of lingering in Britain and headed straight for London.

Devonshire was close to London, and it took them about an hour to reach the Port of London. Sherlock bought the ferry tickets, and they boarded a French ship named Mont-Saint-Michel.

The ship sailed from the Thames into the North Sea, then crossed the English Channel, heading for the French port city of Caen.

Harry and Sherlock leaned over the ship's railing, squinting as the sea breeze tousled their hair.

This wasn't Harry's first time seeing the sea. Before his first year at Hogwarts, Vernon had taken the family to a rocky shack by the sea to avoid Hagrid delivering the acceptance letter.

But the mood was entirely different this time.

Watching the horizon where the sea and sky met, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of happiness.

"Look at that seagull, Harry. Its wing seems injured, and it's having trouble flying. But its resilience is inspiring. I think it will find a safe place to land."

Three seconds after Sherlock finished speaking, the injured seagull let out a pitiful cry, using its last bit of strength before plummeting into the turbulent sea.

Harry's gaze faltered, and he sneaked a glance at Sherlock, who remained oblivious, still enthusiastically observing the scenery through a pair of binoculars.

Well, if Professor Forrest's mouth wasn't so deadly, Harry might—no, he definitely would have been even happier.

Sherlock, enjoying the sea breeze, and Harry both looked forward to the delicious food they would eat in France and the day they would spend at the beach. Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupted their thoughts.

"Sherlock!"

Hearing his name, Sherlock was initially startled, then he turned his head to look in the direction of the voice.

It was a man in his twenties, wearing sunglasses, a shirt, and beach shorts, with a tie around his neck—a typical disguise for a Wizard trying to blend in as a Muggle.

And Sherlock also noticed the small stick he had tucked into his beach shorts pocket.

Wand.

"Really is you! Sherlock! I never thought I'd run into you here! What a coincidence."

The male wizard approached Sherlock with a look of pleasant surprise, warmly shaking his hand.

Sherlock looked at him with confusion, confirming that this person's appearance and demeanor had never been mentioned in the original owner's diary. He hesitated before asking, "You are...?"

The wizard's smile didn't waver.

"You don't remember me? But then again, we only worked together for two days at the Ministry. You helped me a lot back then."

"Let me introduce myself again. My name is Oliver Green, and I work in the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Obliviator Squad."

"At the time, you were working in the Auror Office, and I was temporarily assigned there for two days. My boss, Chiswell, still piled a lot of work on me even while I was on assignment. Fortunately, you helped me out."

After listening to Oliver's story, Sherlock, who had memorized all of the original owner's diary entries, still couldn't recall any mention of this incident. It seemed that for the original owner, it was just a minor event.

With an apologetic expression, he said, "I'm sorry, but I don't have much of a recollection of it."

Oliver's enthusiasm was evident, and he waved it off generously.

"It's no problem. You helped me back then, and after you resigned, I never got the chance to thank you. I read the Daily Prophet a few months ago and heard that you became the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts? And that you killed the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets last semester? Impressive, you're just as remarkable wherever you go!"

Thanks to the Daily Prophet's reporting, Sherlock had become a somewhat well-known figure in the magical world.

"I was just protecting the students."

"You've changed a lot since then. You seem much more open and cheerful now. That's a good thing."

Oliver's interest grew, and he looked at Sherlock, then at Harry, asking, "Is this your relative? Where are you headed?"

Sherlock introduced Harry, which left Oliver quite impressed. However, he was polite and didn't rudely request to see Harry's lightning-shaped scar, unlike others.

"I'm on a Ministry assignment this time. The Headless Hunt recently held a gathering in Kent, and a Muggle managed to secretly observe the entire event."

"Afterward, the Muggle told everyone he had seen headless ghosts using their heads to play Quidditch. His family thought he was insane and sent him to a Muggle mental hospital."

"But he managed to escape, and after I received the task from the Ministry, I've been following him. I just erased his memories of the ghosts before running into you two."

Oliver's job sounded intriguing, and Sherlock and Harry listened with great interest to his account of his mission.

"Arthur is going to be thrilled recently. He won the Daily Prophet Annual Galleon Prize and is planning to take a few days off to travel to Egypt with his family to visit his eldest son."

Harry learned about Ron's recent situation from Oliver, and it seemed that he and Mr. Weasley had a close relationship, as evident from the familiar way he addressed him.

"You came out in a Muggle car?" Oliver asked.

Sherlock nodded. "We rented it from a Muggle car rental company."

"Can I take a look at your car? I'm very interested in Muggle machinery", Oliver asked, a bit sheepishly.

After chatting for so long, Sherlock had no reason to refuse such a small request.

Sherlock and Harry led Oliver to their rented Ford car, and he immediately got excited and climbed in.

"Truly a remarkable machine! Sometimes you have to admit, Muggles are incredibly clever. Without magic, they can create things that are almost magical, unlike the magical world's alchemy, which has been regressing over the years."

His words earned him the goodwill of both Harry and Sherlock.

"Still, their imagination is a bit limited. Why can't they make cars that can fly?" Oliver asked, turning to Sherlock. "You're planning to drive this car around France?"

Sherlock shrugged. "If nothing goes wrong, we don't plan on changing our plans."

Harry's face turned pale the moment he heard the first half of Oliver's sentence, and he quickly interrupted with a rapid-fire response.

"Right! If there are no surprises, we'll keep driving this car!"

Sherlock gave him a disapproving tap on the head.

"Politeness, Harry! Interrupting others is very impolite."

The injured Harry had no choice but to bear the pain alone.

If he hadn't reacted, they would have had to change their mode of transportation soon enough.

Oliver's eyes sparkled with excitement.

"For a Wizard's journey, Muggle transportation is useful, but it lacks a certain flair. Let me modify it for you, Sherlock. With just a few simple steps, it can become a masterpiece!"

Sherlock hesitated.

"I think—"

"Relax! I even taught Arthur how to modify vehicles. He secretly built a flying car at home, and last year his son drove it into Hogwarts. It caused quite a stir, and the Ministry of Magic fined him three months' salary. Trust me, my skills are far superior!"

With that, he got to work, pulling out his wand and fiddling with the poor car, making it groan and creak.

Sherlock and Harry exchanged a helpless glance. Harry felt this might be the result of his failed attempt to interrupt Sherlock earlier.

Regardless of Oliver's skills, the car after his modifications was no longer the same.

By noon, Sherlock took Harry to the ship's restaurant for lunch, and they invited Oliver, but he was too focused on showing off his modifications and had no interest in eating.

So, Sherlock and Harry enjoyed a meal that was not quite authentic French cuisine but tasted excellent.

When they returned to the car, Oliver's modifications were almost complete.

"Almost done, almost—" he muttered, then pulled a button from his pocket, installed it in the center of the steering wheel, and tapped it with his wand. "Ah-ha! All done!"

He was eager to test his masterpiece immediately but was stopped by Sherlock.

Whether the car could transform into a Decepticon Leader or an Optimus Prime, testing it on the ship was out of the question. Otherwise, not only Oliver but all of them would face serious trouble.

Unable to test it himself, Oliver reluctantly looked at the Ford car, which now had only an additional button, and began instructing Sherlock on how to use it.

"Press that button, and the car will switch to flight mode. The throttle and brake control speed, while the gearshift handles ascent and descent. It still runs on gasoline, but it has a larger appetite. With a full tank, it can fly for about three to five hours."

He added quietly,

"The French Ministry of Magic isn't as strict about magic-modified vehicles, so drive with confidence. Even if you get caught, it's just a fine of a few Galleons."

After a brief chat, he found a secluded spot and Apparated off the ship.

Left standing by the car, Harry blinked and asked excitedly,

"So, our car can fly?"

Sherlock didn't respond immediately. He examined the car for a while, then had Harry keep watch for any passing Muggles.

He then drew his wand and conducted a thorough curse detection and magical power assessment.

After a comprehensive check, Sherlock confirmed that the car was indeed as Oliver had said, with no hidden tricks other than the added flight function.

Harry scratched his head.

"I think that guy is really enthusiastic and nice. He can't be a bad person, right?"

Sherlock gave him a serious lesson.

"It's hard to judge a person's character from the surface, just like with Riddle who framed Hagrid last semester. You believed him at first, thinking he was a good person, didn't you? Always be cautious when dealing with strangers. Otherwise, you might end up helping them count their money after they've tricked you."

Harry responded earnestly, "I'll remember that, Professor." He then asked, "Is there anything wrong with the car?"

Sherlock shook his head.

"Nothing at all. Oliver's skills are indeed impressive. He must have put a lot of effort into this modification to thank me for my help at the Ministry of Magic. It's perfect."

Harry's eyes widened, and a delighted smile spread across his face.

"Then our journey is sure to be more exciting!"

Sherlock shrugged, a smile appearing on his face as well.

"Perhaps."

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end