It had to be said, magic was indeed very convenient.
In terms of size and model, a truck engine from the 1980s should have been impossible to match with a tank designed in the 1940s.
However, the Undetectable Extension Charm was simply that unreasonable; by expanding the space within the engine bay, the installation problem was solved instantly.
The rest came down to the connections between components, such as between the engine and the drive shaft. Any irrationalities were simply and crudely resolved with magic.
With the help of alchemy runes, the engine's air intake and heat dissipation problems were all completely solved as well.
But even so, installing the engine was still a rather time-consuming task.
While Kyle buried his head in tinkering with the power system, the twin brothers were off to the side, installing a weapon system onto the tank.
Using the machine guns, cannons, and rocket launchers they had "borrowed" from Kyle—basically anything that could be mounted—the brothers slapped them all on in one go.
A modified alchemical cannon replaced the original tank gun. This cannon, improved by George, wouldn't suffer from "Ex-Wife" style accidents; a single shot could blast a bunker to smithereens.
Four rapid-fire machine guns were also installed at the four corners of the tank. A total of twenty-four pitch-black muzzles exuded a terrifying aura.
Mr. Weasley looked at his beloved vehicle, watching it gradually transform from an ordinary civilian commuter vehicle into a beast of war. For a moment, he didn't even know where to begin his commentary.
He also recognized the Muggle firearms—this was knowledge the twin brothers had educated him on.
While the three children were busy, Mr. Weasley didn't stay idle either.
He was responsible for installing armor plating on the tank and inscribing defensive runes to enhance the vehicle's overall defense.
As the only person among the four who knew the spell Protego Horribilis, Arthur Weasley's job also included solidifying a Protego Horribilis charm onto the body of the car.
Just as the four of them were busy working, Ron ran over in high spirits to watch for a while.
Seeing that Kyle, who was the same age as him, could already participate in such complex modification work, and to stop his mother from comparing him to "someone else's child" all day long, Ron decided to help out too.
In less than five minutes, the clumsy Ron was disdainfully chased out by Mr. Weasley.
"What's so great about it, anyway," Ron muttered in a low voice, boredly kicking a gnome around the yard.
He swore that even if he, Ron Weasley, died of boredom, died out here, or jumped off Stoatshead Hill, he wouldn't touch that broken tank ever again.
Time passes quickly when a person is focused on something, and that was exactly the case for the four of them, immersed as they were in magically modifying the vehicle.
It wasn't until Ginny came to the shed to call them for dinner that they realized, unknowingly, it had already gotten dark outside.
"It'll be done by tonight at the latest," Mr. Weasley said excitedly, completely unaware of the black motor oil staining his face and hands.
"Dad, we still have to help Kyle modify his car tomorrow," George reminded him.
"Of course, no problem!"
Nothing made Arthur Weasley happier than modifying a Muggle contraption. If there was anything happier, it was modifying two of them.
"Let's go, children, time to eat!" Mr. Weasley threw down the wrench in his hand.
Collapsing into his chair at the dining table, Mr. Weasley wiped his face. "That was quite a tiring day."
He took a large gulp of tea and let out a sigh of relief. "But that car will be able to fly tonight, so it's all worth..."
Mr. Weasley suddenly stopped talking because he caught Mrs. Weasley's gaze, which looked like she wanted to kill someone.
"Fly? You intend to make that car fly?"
Fire blazed in Mrs. Weasley's eyes. "I recall someone telling his wife that he only wanted to take that car apart to see how it worked inside."
Mr. Weasley blinked.
"Oh, dear, I think you'll find that he hasn't broken the law in doing so, even though he perhaps should have told his wife the truth beforehand..."
"There is a loophole in the law, you'll find... as long as he doesn't intend to fly it, the fact that the car can fly doesn't..."
Seeing the fury shooting from Mrs. Weasley's eyes, Mr. Weasley hurriedly changed his tune: "I promise, I will absolutely not fly it in the sky! That would be wrong!"
Kyle scratched his head.
No wonder Mr. Weasley had dragged the three of them into his "Mount Haruna Villa" to discuss how to modify the flying car over the past few nights, rather than daring to do it in front of Mrs. Weasley.
Mrs. Weasley crossed her arms, staring coldly at her husband.
If she weren't afraid of scaring Kyle, she would let Mr. Weasley know right now who the real head of this household was.
The next day, they spent only a morning modifying Kyle's 1987 Buick GNX.
The reason for the speed was their experience from modifying the previous vehicle, and the fact that the modification plan for the Buick wasn't as complex as the tank's.
Kyle didn't have many requirements; he only hoped his car could barrel down the road like the Knight Bus.
So, they simply added a flight system to the Buick and then insanely boosted its driving speed.
Finally, they cast a few protective spells on it—just enough to prevent the driver from crashing to death inside the car.
Kyle had thought he would stay at the Burrow for a few more days, waiting until George finished the armor he owed him before returning to Dorset.
However, a letter brought by Itachi forced him to make a trip home.
In the letter, Dumbledore told Kyle that the Thunderbird egg was about to hatch.
Not wanting to miss the hatching of the Thunderbird, Kyle bade farewell to the Weasley family after lunch.
When he arrived, he had taken the Knight Bus.
Now, he planned to drive back in his Buick sports car.
Meanwhile, Great Hangleton, the Gaunt Shack.
Snape arrived here following the location in his memory.
Looking at the dilapidated wooden shack before him, with a dead snake nailed to the door twisted into an "S" shape, Snape knew he hadn't found the wrong place.
After consulting a vast amount of historical data, Snape had also reviewed all the fragments of memory concerning Voldemort within his own mind using a Pensieve.
Only then did he lock onto the approximate location.
The most likely place for Voldemort to hide the Resurrection Stone ring was the Gaunt family's old home.
Due to the family's decline, the Gaunt Shack could be described as utterly shabby.
The dilapidated walls were covered in moss, and many tiles had fallen off the roof, exposing the oak beams underneath.
Thick nettles grew all around the house, reaching as high as the small windows, which were caked with thick layers of grime accumulated over years.
The ruined hut before him carried all of Snape's hopes.
The closer he got to the shack, the more unable he was to calm his heart.
When he approached within a certain distance, he sensed the obscure and evil magical fluctuations radiating from the ruined house.
This was it. It was here!
Snape's expression took on a hint of madness.
"The Resurrection Stone! As long as I have the Resurrection Stone, Lily can..."
Nearly losing his reason, he ran swiftly toward the Gaunt Shack, which was now close at hand.
Just as he stepped through the front door of the house, a sudden sense of warning in his heart snapped Snape back to reality.
"Protego!"
A spell wrapped in massive malice slammed into the Shield Charm he had hastily erected, blasting Snape backward.
It was a magical trap.
He should have thought of it sooner; Voldemort wouldn't just leave a Horcrux here alone and undefended.
It must be known that a Horcrux was equivalent to one of Voldemort's lives.
As long as the Horcrux remained, Voldemort could be resurrected from it even if his physical body was destroyed.
Even with the protection of the Shield Charm, Snape still suffered considerable damage.
Voldemort was no benevolent soul; for anyone daring to covet his Horcrux, no magical trap he set could be considered too vicious.
Snape climbed up from the ground with a grim expression. The wound inflicted by the Dark Magic was constantly emitting an ominous black mist.
He fished a bottle of potion from his pocket and sprinkled it over the wound. A large cloud of black steam instantly rose from the injury.
The intense pain made Snape grit his teeth tight.
As the black mist faded, Snape's wound began to heal rapidly.
After treating his injuries, Snape looked gloomily at the Gaunt Shack before him.
The ruined house looked unremarkable on the outside, but who knew how many vicious magical traps Voldemort had hidden inside?
It seemed he would have to spend quite a bit of effort to obtain that Resurrection Stone ring he had been dreaming of.
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