Aboard The Vasa, Wyzett and his companions finally returned home.
During their travels in Sweden, Molly Weasley had tended the garden with her usual loving care.
No sooner had Wyzett and Luna unpacked their luggage than they grabbed their souvenirs and set off for The Burrow.
As they strolled along the lane, they happened upon the Weasley twins, who were walking with a girl. The three were laughing and chatting, clearly in high spirits.
The girl, a Muggle from Ottery St. Catchpole, worked at the village paper shop. Wyzett's notebooks and Luna's sketchbooks and paints all came from her shop.
Of course, parchment and quills for Hogwarts assignments still needed to be bought in Diagon Alley.
Fred, ever the showman, caught sight of Wyzett and Luna out of the corner of his eye. His expression shifted instantly, and he started making frantic faces at them.
All the while, Wyzett had been using a Soaring Charm to let their bundle of gifts float along behind them—much less effort than carrying them by hand.
But with a Muggle girl present, Fred's wild gesturing was a warning: no magic in front of Muggles, or the Statute of Secrecy would be at risk.
Catching on immediately, Wyzett pulled out a piece of parchment and, with a quick flick, transfigured it into a backpack.
Luna smoothly unzipped the bag and slipped the gift parcels inside. Their teamwork was flawless—the whole thing took less than a heartbeat.
The girl, following Fred's gaze, noticed Wyzett and Luna and waved. "Haven't seen you two in a while! Been off somewhere?"
Wyzett smiled and nodded. "Yes, we just got back."
The girl glanced at Fred and George, gave a little wave, and said, "I'll leave you to it—back to the shop for me."
"Bye!" called Fred and George in unison, waving after her with a touch of wistfulness.
Only when she'd disappeared down the slope, her figure hidden by the grass, did they finally lower their hands.
Fred slung an arm around Wyzett's shoulders. "Not bad! Way better than my little brother—your Soaring Charm is top-notch!"
George chimed in, "And your Transfiguration's brilliant too. No wonder you're our best materials consultant!"
He suddenly noticed the bracelet on Wyzett's wrist and let out a theatrical gasp. "Oi! That's a gorgeous bracelet!"
"Oi! And there's a matching one!" Fred's eyes sparkled as he spotted the identical bracelet on Luna's wrist.
The twins blinked at each other, then burst out in perfect unison: "You two… must've had a… truly unforgettable trip!"
"It really was unforgettable," Wyzett agreed, thinking back on their Swedish adventure.
Luna nodded, her smile as tranquil and radiant as a blooming water lily.
Their matching responses left the twins sighing in mock despair. Together, they gazed longingly at the slope. "So jealous! We want a holiday too…"
But their melancholy vanished as quickly as it came.
Fred's attention snapped back to the parcel. "Speaking of holidays… these must be souvenirs, right?"
"Anything especially weird—something we shouldn't talk about here?" George looked around, lowering his voice. "Let's go to the garage!"
Wyzett and Luna exchanged a knowing look and, with a slight shake of their heads, followed the twins as they took a detour.
The Burrow loomed ahead, at least six stories tall, a ramshackle patchwork of styles and extensions, like a "house-tree" cobbled together by magic and good intentions.
The ground floor was a sprawling medieval cottage; halfway up, a two-story addition jutted out, with another stretching from the side. Without enchantments, the whole thing would have toppled long ago.
As they neared the house, Wyzett heard a clanging from above—someone banging on pipes.
Fred grinned. "That's the ghoul. Whenever the house gets too quiet, it likes to make a racket!"
George snickered. "Does it at night too—hehe!"
Wyzett looked up at the upper floors, curiosity piqued. "So it bangs on pipes at night… Does Ron live with the ghoul?"
Fred gave a sage nod. "You got it in one."
George added, "Well, not exactly. Ron's on the sixth floor, the ghoul's in the attic above."
…
They circled round to the garage—a dim, cluttered space where, to Wyzett's surprise, sat something utterly un-magical: a turquoise Ford sedan.
He didn't know much about cars, but the Ford logo on the bonnet was unmistakable.
A memory flickered—he'd seen this car in a Harry Potter fan edit, crashing into the Whomping Willow at Hogwarts and getting thoroughly thrashed.
Still, a flying Ford was magical enough in its own right.
Luna wandered the garage, hands clasped behind her back, thoroughly intrigued.
Suddenly, a head popped out from under the car. "Blimey, you scared me! Thought it was Mum!" Ron crawled out, dusting himself off. "Wyzett! Long time no see!"
"Long time no see," Wyzett replied with a smile, noticing Ron brushing at the grime. "Scourgify!"
Ron spread his arms, checking that every speck of dust was gone, and grinned. "Cheers, mate!"
Once Ron was clean, Wyzett asked, "Are you lot planning a trip too? Anything I can help with?"
"Course not—we've got bigger things to worry about!" Fred shook his head.
"And it was Ron's idea!" George pinched his nose, pretending to sob. "Oh! Our little brother's finally grown up—coming up with genius plans!"
He shot Ron a dramatic look.
Ron, blushing fiercely, cleared his throat and grew serious. "I've got something really important! Harry's gone completely off the grid!"
"Since the start of summer, we haven't heard a peep from him—not a single letter! I've sent twelve—he hasn't replied to any!"
At Hogwarts, Ron and Harry were inseparable, so this was truly alarming.
Ron's worry deepened, and Wyzett frowned. "Are they really keeping him on that tight a leash?"
He remembered Harry's stories on the train—his relatives were downright awful.
Ron shrugged. "We don't know exactly what's going on, but Harry can't be having a good time."
"That's why we're here—checking the car. Tonight, we're driving over to get him out, bring him here first!"
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