Driving Miss Weasley by BigFatMaybe
Summary: It should have been a simple task. Escort Ginny Weasley to her Quidditch match. But it all changes when Harry Potter rents the wrong car. What started out as a simple road trip between two friends and past lovers quickly turns into a hellish game of cat and mouse, and Harry and Ginny find themselves running away from a mysterious and deadly group of mercenaries, through a Scotland plagued by a mysterious infestation of Dark creatures.
Categories: Alternate Universe, Post-Hogwarts
Driving Miss Weasley by BigFatMaybe
Chapter 1: Chapter 1Author's Notes:
The clouds opened up for the first time that morning, and Hogwarts, torn apart by battle, was basked in the rays of a faint, watery sun. Many of the innumerable towers lay in ruins, the blue-tiled roofs had collapsed on themselves, piles and piles of crumbled brick surrounded the courtyard, and the victors of battle had barely begun covering the battered, broken bodies littered throughout the castle. The Battle of Hogwarts was over.
Further away from the morbid scene, three young people stood, halfway across the bridge that crossed the ravine in front of the castle. The smell of dust and blood didn’t reach there. They looked on at the sunrise, and then Harry Potter snapped the Elder Wand in half and threw the remains off the bridge. For now, the three would stand by each other, and grieve for those who lost their lives that night. But Voldemort was finally behind them, and their lives could finally begin.
Thirteen years later
I love my life, Henry Gouwenaar thought. With purpose, he dipped his paddle into the foaming, cold water of the River Nevis and steered his kayak further downstream, toward the next rapids. Further ahead, he saw Iris, his girlfriend of two years, speeding up to tackle the rapids that flowed down between two sharp, rocky riverbanks. She briefly turned to smile at him before she started the descent.
The water wasn’t as high as it was yesterday, and he was glad for that. Even with lower water levels, the stream was incredibly wild and there were plenty of black rocks jutting out of the middle of the stream, ready to take down the inexperienced or unwatchful adventurer. The rapids got closer, his kayak went faster and faster and he kept pedalling as he went down one, two, and three short falls, before arriving in a calmer section. He shook his head and despite the water in his ears, he heard Iris whoop in joy. It was simply amazing. The River Nevis was fast, wild, untamed and perfect for their outdoor holiday. They had started their trek in London and had travelled further north within a few weeks. It had been exciting to slowly travel further from civilisation and English countryside, and into the true wilderness of the Scottish Highlands, where they felt most at home. This holiday was unforgettable (the price too), and he felt thrilled that he could share all this with the girl he had fallen in love with.
Time passed quickly as they tackled fall after fall, and Henry had to conclude that names like ‘Schimitar Gorge’ and ‘Legbreaker’ for some of the falls were fully deserved. The river was treacherous, fast, and so narrow that any small mistake surely meant his kayak would flip over. This wasn’t nearly the first river they’d tackled, though, and as noon arrived they steered their kayaks into a small inlet, got out, pulled the boats onto the steep and rocky bank and sat down next to each other for a lunch break.
They discussed the falls that lay ahead between bites, but most of the time they sat in silence, enjoying the thundering sound of the rapids and the mist-clad slopes of Ben Nevis further into the distance. His panini polished off, Henry stood up, gave his girlfriend a peck on her cheek and climbed down to the river to wash his hands.
He shakily made his way over the sharp and slippery rocks towards the water, but he managed to stay on his feet. He bent over, dipped his hands into the inky black water, and he promptly fell in. He briefly wondered how he could have lost his balance, but then claw marks started to appear all over the arms of his wetsuit at a frightening speed. He looked at his arms in wonder, and then he became aware of the burning pain. The claws tore through the material like it was nothing, blood immediately welled up from the gashes in his wet skin, and the searing pain spread to his legs, his groin, and his face. He heard terrified screaming in the background and the water became a foaming turmoil around him. He tried to swim to shore, but something held him back and pulled him further and further into the river. His life vest was torn from him and his unprotected torso was immediately attacked as well by an invisible mass of claws and teeth that quickly and decisively tore him apart. He tried to shout, but he was pulled under and further into the ice-cold river by the invisible beings. Water filled his nose, eyes, ears and throat and he tasted his own coppery blood in his mouth. He felt his arms being torn from their sockets, his blood and tissue were sucked out from every wound, and when his consciousness slipped away he eagerly accepted his fate, if only to escape this hell.
“What do we have here, then?”
“Grindylow attack. The sixth in the last two weeks already.”
“Bloody mess, innit?”
“We’ve seen worse than this, believe me.” A third man joined the other two.
“Auror Weasley,” they greeted him.
“Proudfoot, Bennett,” Ron Weasley said. “Head Auror’s already on another task and he’ll be gone for a few days, so I’ll assume control over this one.”
“Any particular reason why he’s personally responsible for your sister’s privacy, Weasley?” Proudfoot asked.
Ron’s ears reddened. “Cause he’s the best at that sort of job. And we’ve got work to do here. Fill me in, please.”
Proudfoot spoke up again. “We’ve got a young Dutchman completely torn apart by a school of Grindylows. There’s not much left of him. His girlfriend tried to save him, but she managed to get away from the river at least.” The three Aurors turned to look at a young girl clad in some strange black overall. She sat under an oak tree in the tall, yellowing grass with her arms around her legs, and she stared expressionlessly at the blood-splattered riverbank and the cloth-covered body of her boyfriend next to it.
“We’ll Obliviate her, obviously. The river’s supposed to be very dangerous, that’ll provide enough of an excuse,” Ron said.
“That feels… unethical,” Bennett mumbled.
Ron regarded him for a moment. “This is your first scene, isn’t it?” Bennett nodded. “It always takes some time to get adjusted to the field. I know it’s hard, mate, but we have no choice. The Statute is more important than one person, and there’re plenty of Muggles here who want to see what all these deaths are about. We can’t risk this leaking out.”
“The sixth attack in two weeks,” Proudfoot said again, shaking his head slightly. “What draws them here? I’ve never seen an infestation like this.”
“Damned if I know. But the Ministry is going to have their work cut out for them on this case. There are already a few Muggles with those big, strange recording machines here. Hermione said they’re making a report on this that will be shown on… argh, what was it called?”
“The telly?” Bennett suggested.
“Right, the telly. And then everybody knows about it and they’ll all want to come here and see for themselves what those deaths are all about. I think the longer this keeps up, the more difficult it’s going to be to keep it under wraps. Which means that we’ve got work to do,” he concluded in the business-like tone his Auror coach had drilled into him long ago. “Right, Bennett, I want you to write a report on the scene and I want it on my desk in threefold around four. Proudfoot, you’ve talked to the girl already?”
“Yes, I did. She wasn’t really that helpful, though. Poor thing.”
“Yeah.” Ron hesitated for a moment, and scratched his neck. “Erm, can you fetch the Obliviators quickly? I’ll take a closer look at the river.”
“On it. Don’t fall in while I’m away, Weasley!”
Ron tried to hide his nervousness and got to work.
The car stopped outside a small Sixt car rental along Oxford Road in Manchester, and four men stepped out. It was early in the morning, the city had only just started to warm up under the mid-spring sun, and the rental had only opened an hour ago. There were no customers in the garishly orange office at that moment, and once the manager behind the counter caught sight of the group that entered through the glass doors, he got up and greeted them with a rather skittish grin.
“Is the car ready?” the tallest of four asked without preamble. He had sandy blond hair, a broad posture and walked around with a casualness that befitted a man who was never rebuffed.
“Yes, of course, just like you asked,” the manager replied, refusing to meet the man’s eyes for longer than a split-second. “If you’ll just follow me, gentlemen.” The five went through the door at the end of the office and entered the garage behind it.
The blond-haired man looked around. “I don’t see it,” he said.
“No, I assure you, it’s right there, look!” The manager said. “Look there, right to the left of–”
“Is that the car we ordered you to reserve for us?” the man asked, stepping closer to the visibly cringing owner.
“Yes, it’s the Mercedes, just as you asked!”
The man put his hand on the profusely sweating manager’s shoulder, got his mouth uncomfortably close to his ear, and pointed to the black sedan. “Look at the number plate, mate,” he said, “and let me ask you again. Is that our fucking car?”
“What happened to it?” he asked, still close to the man’s ear.
“What happened to it?!” He shouted. He shoved the manager away from him, who stumbled, but just managed to stay on his feet.
“A man came in this morning,” he said. “J-just an hour ago. An’ he asked for a car, and I must’ve mixed the cars up accidentally. I’m sorry, I really am! I just wasn’t paying attention, honest!”
The four men exchanged furious glances.
“Lads,” the leader of the group eventually said. “I think it’s time we show this bloke that there’s a price for making mistakes.”
The short, saggy manager squealed in pain as he was beaten, kicked, stomped on, and dragged around the garage by his thinning hair. But no one, not even his companions, noticed the leader of the group discreetly cast a silencing charm on the garage, nor did they notice his quick Legilimency probe when he finally held the owner of the rental by his collar and pulled him close to spit in his face.
“Alright,” the blond leader said, slightly out of breath. He let go of the abused man’s collar and let him slump to the ground. “I think our friend here knows how much he’s fucked me now. Don’t you, mate?” The manager swallowed and nodded as he wiped the spit off his face. “Yeah, you know you do. You should be happy too, y’know. I don’t normally get idiots like you get away with this shit so easily. But I’ll make an exception this time, just cause I still need something from you.”
“Anything! I’ll do anything, just, please… stop.”
“Depends on your answer, mate. I need to know who exactly rented this car, and where he’s going.”
The manager nodded and picked himself up off the ground. “I can tell you that. Right this way.”
And the mountains rose on the horizon, and the Auror and his client smiled at each other in excitement.
“Not that I’m not enjoying this, Harry, but remind me again why we’re here?”
“I’ve got three words for you, Ginny: British tabloid press. Rita Skeeter was a kind and considerate woman compared to the hounds they employ these days-”
“Yes, I know that, but why this”–she gestured around the interior of the black Mercedes– “this car? Isn’t it a bit overdone? We could have just Portkeyed in, you know?”
“I’ve got my reasons, I’ll have you know. First of all, we already did that for your trainings and the previous match, and I want to maintain a bit of variation and unpredictability. Keeps those bastards guessing, you know? Second, it’s a Muggle means, and that means less chance for them to find out what we’re doing. They probably don’t even know what a car is, let alone a car rental.”
“Well, any opportunity for us to go on a road trip together shouldn’t be wasted, should it?” Harry grinned. “Seriously, Gin, we’ve hardly seen each other the past year or so, and we’re both so busy all the time. I think we deserve this. No meddling family, no press, no fans…”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she acknowledged. “And I miss you too, you know. But I’ve hardly even been in my apartment lately, with all the extra trainings, signing sessions and press moments and all that. I’m starting to think I need to turn it down a bit, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, definitely,” Harry agreed. “I mean, I’m only 29 and this Auror job is starting to weigh on me. Remind me again why I agreed to be Head Auror?”
“Because you’re the best at your job, and it’s not even close,” Ginny said seriously. “Remember how bad it was when you first started? You came home exhausted every night, often even after I’d already gone to bed. And you weren’t even 20 years old! It was all because that git Robards had no clue about what he was doing. That whole office was a mess, and it made a complete mess of us.” She didn’t sound as bitter as she used to do when she talked about their time right after Hogwarts, but he still grimaced.
“I don’t want to talk about that time anymore, Ginny.”
They were silent, and they finally reached the foothills of the Scottish Highlands. It would still be a long drive to the Isle of Skye, where the Pride of Portree would play the Holyhead Harpies in a few days, but Harry was prepared for the long trip. That was why he’d rented the most luxurious car that company in Manchester had to offer. There was no way he was going to make them suffer in some small, stuffy metal box.
“So how are things between you and Julie?” Ginny asked tentatively.
“Oh, you didn’t know already?”
He smiled wryly and adjusted his grip on the wheel. “Strap yourself in, Gin, it’s a story and a half. You know it wasn’t going well either way between us?” She nodded. “It didn’t really click, I guess. I was getting completely sick of her constant complaining about my work hours every time I came home late after work–”
“So practically every night?” she asked.
“Just about. Anyway, I think it was about two months ago when I did finally come home on time, and what do you think? I find her in bed with someone from the Hit Wizard office, screaming her bloody lungs out!”
She gasped. “That bitch! What did you do to them?”
“To be honest, I didn’t do anything. I just cast a packing charm on Julie’s stuff and threw her and that bloke out,” he sighed. “I was just so tired of it, you know? She was more a drain on my energy than a girlfriend in the end. And I know those things aren’t mutually exclusive, but the good part of the relationship was missing, you know what I mean?” Ginny nodded. “It was awful, and finding her cheating on me finally gave me an excuse to kick her out.”
“You shouldn’t have gotten together with her, you know. I never liked her,” she said.
“Yeah, you gave her the trademark Fleur treatment last time we were at the Burrow,” Harry said, failing to smother a grin.
“Damn right! You should trust me more you know,” she said. “I am a matchmaking prodigy.”
“Oh? So you just happened to deduce that me and Julie weren’t a match?” he asked. “On first sight?”
“Yes,” she said smugly. “And before you doubt me, let me remind you who it was that brought Neville and Hannah together. And Dean and Seamus, and also Dennis and that girl from Flourish and Blotts!” She pointed to herself with both hands. “Me. Matchmaking prodigy.”
“I should never have doubted you.” he smirked. “But I suppose you’re right, we weren’t a good couple at all. She practically sucked the fun out of everything.”
“I always knew you weren’t into Dementors, Harry,” Ginny said sagely. Harry glared at her. “Oh, lighten up, you’re not the only one with your woes. Remember Mark?”
Harry nodded and tried to ignore the wave of jealousy stirring inside him. “Yeah. Never liked the bloke.”
“See? You have the gift too!”
“How is that a surprise?” he asked. “You’re talking to the man who convinced Ron to pop the question to Hermione!”
“A very good point, Mr Cupid. Anyway, about Mark. A year or so back, we were in a bit of a bad spot together, and I think he had enough of my work hours, so what did the moron do? He made the brilliant decision to drop everything, storm into the Harpies’ locker room after training and demand very loudly that I spend more time with him!” Harry snorted. “And bear in mind that this was the Harpies we’re talking about. He was lucky he came out without being hexed into oblivion, though it wasn’t for a lack of trying, I’ll tell you that. The git was completely nuts!”
“So then what?” he said, grinning.
“Well, after he reattached his hair and managed to get his eyesight back later that day, I just told him it was time for him to get out of my life, and I threw him out,” she said. “I think he still has nightmares about Bat Bogeys to this day, you know.” Harry’s grin turned into a hearty laugh. He had missed talking with her.
They drove on, into the mountains. All the clichés were present today, and the farther north they went, the darker the weather turned, and pretty soon rain started to fall. Harry was very glad with his choice of car now.
“Can we take a pause soon, Harry? My arse is getting sore,” Ginny said.
He didn’t know whether to give her the safe or the risky answer. “We can. I don’t think there’s any proper service stations on these roads, so I hope you don’t mind getting wet?”
He thought he saw her lips twitch. “No, that’s alright,” she replied evenly. “What are service stations again?”
Fifteen minutes later, they stood outside the Mercedes on a small, empty parking lot next to the road, stretching their sore bodies.
“Do you have anything to eat?” Ginny asked.
“Yeah, I left some in the boot, go ahead.”
She walked to the back of the car and rummaged around in the boot for a while. Harry took the moment to admire the foreboding mountains around them. The wind blew small specks of rain in his face and his T-shirt did little to protect him from the cold. It was certainly welcome after a few hours of driving, but the scenery still left him with a strange feeling of unease, like he was making a mistake coming up here.
“What are these?” she asked hesitantly. She popped up next to the car, in her left hand a set of balaclavas, and in her right hand something that was unmistakably a very large semi-automatic rifle.
Dread seeped into his body. He cursed. “Put that away, Ginny. Now,” he said. He touched his wand strapped to his forearm and frantically looked around. No one had seen the weapons, and there was nothing nearby that looked like an ambush, but he knew how quickly that could change.
“Are there any more of those in there?” he asked after she’d put the rifle away.
“Yeah, there’s loads, come look.”
He briskly marched over toward her and peered in as well. The boot was completely stuffed with rifles, smaller handguns, ammunition cases, balaclavas and even a few grenades. He wondered how he’d missed it when he threw the sandwiches in it earlier that morning.
“I’ll explain later. Just close the boot and get in. We’re leaving.”
“What was that thing?” she asked as she sat down and closed the passenger door.
“Buckle your seatbelt, Ginny.” He turned the key, the heavy engine came to life, and he turned the car out of their parking spot. “Right. We kill our kind with deadly spells, right?” Ginny nodded. They picked up more speed. “Muggles don’t have wands, so they use other means. What you had there was a very, very dangerous and very expensive gun.”
“I’ve heard of those.” They reached the end of the parking lot and entered the main road. There weren’t many cars around them, and he hoped that none of them had seen the weapon in Ginny’s hand. “But why are you so worried, Harry?”
He glanced at his rear-view mirror as much as he watched the road ahead. The rain poured down more and more and his windshield wipers zoomed across the windscreen at full speed. Ginny seemed mesmerized by them. “Guns aren’t easy to get in this country, Ginny. Especially not the kind you had in your hands. The only ones who own those guns are the kind of people you don’t want to meet. And I don’t know how it got in our boot, but I suspect this car was meant for someone else…”
“Someone who wants to use that gun,” she said, breaking out of her trance from watching the wipers. “Shit, Harry, what are we going to do?”
He rubbed his unshaven chin in thought. “I don’t want to use magic yet, because we’re surrounded by Muggles, but I could send a Patronus to the other Aurors if we need to,” he said. “But we’re not in trouble, at least not yet, so I say we just carry on for now.”
“Okay, but,” Ginny hesitated. “I haven’t exactly kept up with my defence, Harry. At all. Not since the battle…”
“It’s okay, we’ll probably be fine. But if it does go south, just remember that you’ve got an Auror with you.” She didn’t seem too convinced. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. They’re probably Muggles anyway, so we can just use magic if they become a problem. Try not to worry too much, I’m with you.”
“That’s because you’re only in it for the money, isn’t it?” Ginny said. Harry didn’t hear much humour in her voice, though.
“That’s me,” he said lightly, and he briefly smiled at her. “Harry Potter: bounty hunter.”
She laughed softly. “I’m glad you’re here, Harry. It’s been too long.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. Something that he hadn’t felt for a very long time stirred in him, but at that point were interrupted by the highly unexpected arrival of a Patronus in between them, and the strangely emotional mood was broken. The Patronus was a large hound, floating above the gear stick and running at full speed to keep up with the car, and Harry recognised whose it was immediately.
“Bloody hell, that’s Savage, one of the Aurors!”
“Shh, quiet!” Ginny hissed.
“There’s been a change of plan, Potter. Credible threat against your protégé. Pull the car over, please.” The Patronus disappeared as quickly as it came.
“Is he mental? We’re surrounded by Muggles here, what if they saw it?!” Harry said. He doubted they would notice, driving fast as they were, but still...
“What kind of threat did he find, d’you think?” Ginny asked.
“No idea. There’s a petrol station a few miles up ahead, and we need to refill at some point anyway, so let’s go there, fill up, and then park somewhere and call him.”
When he got on the turnoff, he noticed a big, black car behind him do the same. Harry had been an Auror for long enough to know not to dismiss initial fears as simple paranoia, and he briefly touched his forearm to feel his holstered wand. The touch always calmed him down in these kinds of situations. When he pulled up to the pump, the car following them stopped next to him. Harry was ready to floor it and drive away, and then the window rolled down and it revealed Auror Callum Savage behind the wheel.
“Alright, Harry?” he called, smiling in what looked like a friendly manner. “You fill up, I’ll wait for you on the car park! I need to speak with you.” With that, he drove off.
“What’s he up to?” Harry muttered to himself. After refuelling and paying the lady behind the register inside the little shop, he got in the car again.
“Keep your wand ready, Ginny,” he said as he buckled his seatbelt. He started the engine.
She stared at him. “But he’s one of yours,” she said. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking he somehow knows where we are, he’s been driving behind me in a car that I’ve never seen him in before, together with three passengers I’ve never met before. Plenty of reason to be suspicious, I think.”
She cursed. “And what if he does something?”
He ran his hand over his face. “An Arresto Momentum could stop the car. But I don’t want this car to fall into the hands of the wrong people, not with all those guns in the boot.” He quickly made up his mind. “I’m going to try to drive away, but if he does manage to stop the car, Apparate to the car park we were at earlier, where we discovered those guns. Got that?”
He slowly drove away from the pump, past the shop and onto the car park. It was nearly empty, only a handful of cars and a few lorries were there, dotted around the drab grey field. The picnic tables were all deserted. Savage’s black SUV was parked further away, against the treeline, and the tall, blond Auror that Harry had known since his training at the start of his career stood casually next to it. He pulled up next him, and opened his window when Savage knocked on it.
“What’s going on, Savage? And why did you think it was a good idea to send me a Patronus when I was clearly in a Muggle area?” Harry asked, outwardly hiding his nervousness as best he could. He turned the engine off, even though his instincts screamed against it.
“Sorry boss,” Savage said pleasantly. “But I’ve received a credible threat against Miss Weasley here.” He nodded to Ginny. “And I couldn’t think of another way to let you know so quickly.”
“Alright,” Harry said. “So how did you get here so quickly? How did you get that car, by the way?” He matched his colleague’s nonchalant tone, but his foot hovered over the accelerator, and his hand touched the gear stick, ready to shift, reverse out of the parking spot and leave.
“That’s a lot of questions,” Savage chuckled. “It’s not really a flashy story. I live nearby, see, and this car’s mine. Never took it to London, though, so I don’t think you’ve seen it before. Quite a looker, isn’t she?”
“Harry?” Ginny whispered beside him.
“Yeah, it is! Anyway, we could talk all day, but you did say you had a reason for seeing us. What threat did you mean to talk about?” Ginny was still furtively pulling his sleeve to try and grab his attention. Harry quietly waved her away and hoped Savage didn’t notice.
“Oh, it’s a letter we intercepted, and quite an alarming one,” the Auror said. “I’ve got it in my car, so just get out for a minute, an’ I’ll show it to you.”
“Alright. But can I ask you something, Callum?”
Savage’s cheerful expression wavered somewhat and Harry saw his hand twitch. “Yeah, of course. What is it?”
“Why are all these men surrounding our car?”
The whole atmosphere changed instantly. Any trace of friendliness left Savage and he barked something to the other men behind his car as he lunged at Harry. Ginny’s wand was out in an instant, but Harry had already put his car in reverse and he steered backwards. Someone shouted behind them and he heard a loud thunk when collided with someone.
“Go, Harry, go!” Ginny shouted. He shifted gear and sped away with screeching tires, just before Savage could open the door on Ginny’s side. Their assailants, one on his back, and the others already running to Savage’s car, steadily became smaller in the mirrors as he exited the parking lot and rejoined the road.
“What the fuck was that?” Ginny asked beside him.
“I don’t know!” Harry said. “Well, at least he didn’t cast a spell on the car. Did you recognise any of them?”
“No, of course I didn’t! Why would I recognise them?”
“I’m trying to find out what’s going on, cause something very, very bad is happening. Are they following us?”
“I don’t know, I can’t see them, anyway. God, these mirrors are useful.”
“Alright.” He paused and ran his hand through his hair. “Shit, Gin.”
“Yeah, this isn’t exactly what I imagined our road trip would be like,” she said. Harry didn’t laugh. He overtook a row of slower cars, and Ginny flinched when someone honked at them.
“Be careful!” she snapped at him.
“We’re in the middle of running the bloody hell away! We can worry about speeding tickets later,” he bit back.
“I know, but that doesn’t mean you have to get us killed in the meantime!”
“Fine, you can drive then!”
“I can’t drive for shit, Harry!”
For a brief moment they glared at each other. Then Harry breathed out, focused himself on the traffic again and slowed down a bit.
“I thought you used to drive your dad’s new car?”
“Only because it’s got loads of protective charms on it,” Ginny said. “I mean, I know how to drive I guess, but unless you really want an accident, it’s best if you stick to the driving today.”
“Shouldn’t we alert the other Aurors?” She asked a while later. “We’re just the two of us, and there were at least four of them.”
That made him pause. “No. No, we can’t alert them. And we can’t use magic either.” He cursed, his stomach feeling very heavy as the full scope of their problems sunk in. “We’re in deep shit, Ginny.”
“Let’s just put it this way: if Savage has gone rogue, and until today I reckoned he would be the last person to do so, who’s to say the others aren’t? What if there’s something going on at the Ministry as well? We don’t know anything at this point, and I’m not going to make some stupid risk by sending a Patronus to Ron or the others. And we can’t use magic, because if there really is something rotten in the Ministry, they’re bound to pick up any magic cast in Muggle areas, so we can’t risk that either.”
“So what do we do, then? Just drive? Shouldn’t we try to find out what’s happening?”
“To be honest, I was thinking that as well. But I don’t like the fact that they’re using guns. Shield charms don’t really block bullets as far as I know, so this could be really dangerous. No, I say we keep driving for the moment.”
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