L.
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Chapter 151 – Beware of That Tree!!
Their pleas were useless.
The car gave a violent lurch.
The nose tilted downward, and they plunged—straight toward the outer wall of Hogwarts.
"No!"
Ron screamed, twisting the steering wheel with all his strength.
Perhaps it was desperation, perhaps sheer luck—the enchanted car finally responded.
It veered sharply and began falling toward the school grounds instead.
"Watch out for that tree!" Harry shouted.
Ron smacked the dashboard with his wand, trying to force the engine to climb again.
Harry's panic-stricken yell only made him more frantic.
They began praying, begging the car to hold together—just long enough to survive.
If only they had waited at the station.
If only they had looked for help.
Darren was already at Hogwarts—he would have told the Headmaster.
And Ron had three older brothers and a younger sister there too…
Why had they chosen this insanity?
Regret was useless.
At last—
CRACK!
Branches slammed into the car.
The entire vehicle shook violently as it crashed down onto the grass.
Harry's head struck the window hard, leaving a swelling the size of a golf ball.
Ron wasn't better off—his wand was snapped nearly in two.
"Mum is going to kill me…" Ron groaned.
Harry opened his mouth to comfort him—to say the wand could be fixed at Hogwarts—
But something hammered into the car from outside.
"What was that?!"
They struggled upright and stared out the window.
The thick branches of a massive tree were pounding the car—roof, doors, windows—
like enormous clubs.
The Whomping Willow.
Harry and Ron nearly fainted.
Then—
With a roar, the car sputtered and lurched to life.
"Reverse!" both boys shouted.
The car shot backward.
Relief flooded their faces as a giant branch missed them by inches.
But the car had reached its limit.
With a violent jerk, it slammed both doors open.
Harry and Ron were catapulted out, landing flat on the grass.
Thud—Thud—THUD!
Their luggage followed, thrown out piece by piece.
Hedwig burst from her cage, screeching furiously.
She smacked Harry's head with her wings before flying straight toward the castle without a backward glance.
As for the car—dented all over, paint scraped, trunk rattling—it revved angrily, spun around, and tore off into the Forbidden Forest like a wounded animal.
"Come back!" Ron yelled, chasing it with his broken wand raised.
Two weak puffs of exhaust shot from the wand tip.
The car was already gone.
"Can you believe this?" Ron said breathlessly. "With all the trees in the forest, we hit the one that hits back!"
"Let's just get to the castle," Harry said wearily.
This was nothing like the arrival they had imagined.
If Darren ever found out, he'd probably burst into tears.
Dragging their luggage, tired, starving, and bruised, they trudged toward Hogwarts.
They finally reached the Great Hall.
Peering through the crack in the door, they saw Professor McGonagall reading names while the Sorting Hat proclaimed each result.
Ron exhaled in relief—Ginny was still among the first-years, meaning she hadn't been sorted yet.
But her face was odd: frightened, worried, angry, and tense all at once.
"Probably Fred and George scared her," Ron muttered.
"I bet she'll be Gryffindor!"
Harry nodded, though distracted.
He was watching Gilderoy Lockhart—wearing robes the exact shade of asparagus—chattering at Professor Flitwick, who looked exhausted.
Hagrid was gulping wine, looking anxious.
And then Harry froze.
Dumbledore wasn't in his seat.
Snape wasn't there either.
Where were they?
Dumbledore—Harry's powerful, brilliant Headmaster—always seemed aware of everything he and Darren did.
Last year, he had quietly let them protect the Philosopher's Stone, trusting their decisions.
Harry admired him deeply.
Snape, on the other hand—
Harry immediately pictured the greasy hair, hooked nose, sneering voice, and cold eyes.
Last year Harry had believed Snape was the villain—until the truth came out.
Snape had protected them from the shadows.
Dumbledore even said Snape owed a life-debt to Harry's father.
Still, Harry couldn't bring himself to like the man.
And he was certain Snape disliked him too.
"Where is Snape?" Harry muttered. "He should be at the staff table…"
Thinking of Slytherin made Harry think instantly of Darren.
He rushed toward the Slytherin table—but everyone had their backs to him.
He couldn't spot Darren.
He sighed.
He'd explain everything to Darren tomorrow.
"How great would it be if Snape wasn't here…" Harry muttered.
"He hates me the most. Maybe he's injured. Or late. Or maybe—maybe he got sacked for bullying students!"
"Ha. Or maybe,"
drawled a voice behind them,
"Professor Snape is waiting for you two to explain what you have done."
Harry turned slowly.
Professor Snape stood there in his black robes, eyes glittering with murderous intensity.
It looked like he wanted to strangle someone.
Or cast the Killing Curse.
And judging by the way he gripped his wand—
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