NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 85: Albania
In front of the crooked Burrow, Mr. Weasley waved his wand, directing several suitcases to jump into a rusty Ford Anglia by itself.
"Kids, double-check the tents. I hear Albania's forests get sudden thunderstorms all the time."
"Does this car fly?" Snape asked, curious. That must be the car that crashed into the Whomping Willow, he thought.
"Fly? Of course not," Mr. Weasley replied, confused. "Muggle cars are meant to run on the ground, aren't they?"
But then his eyes twinkled with excitement. "Though, that would be quite the idea if it could…"
"Arthur, are you sure we want to travel in that?" Mrs. Weasley interrupted, frowning as she eyed the car like it might snap at any moment like a blasting curse.
"Darling, that's what adventure means!" Arthur rubbed his hands excitedly. "We agreed to travel entirely the Muggle way! Cars, planes!"
"All aboard!" Mr. Weasley cheerfully patted the hood.
The eight of them squeezed into the car—Arthur insisted on driving, though he wasn't exactly sure how the tin box worked. Fortunately, wizards usually don't get hurt in car crashes.
Once inside, Mrs. Weasley glanced back at Bill, Charlie, Eileen, Snape, and Lily sitting comfortably side by side. She and Percy sat up front, the bench-like seat lengthened for the occasion.
"Muggles are smarter than we give them credit for," she said. "I mean, you can't tell how spacious it is from outside, right?"
Mr. Weasley winked at Snape in the rearview mirror, started the engine, and drove the car out of the yard.
This time, the Weasleys didn't leave anything behind, and the Ford Anglia headed smoothly toward Exeter International Airport. It was the closest airport to Devonshire, and with Snape's help, they'd successfully booked tickets by phone.
After a heart-pounding journey (the Ford Anglia made suspicious "clicking" noises on the A30 road, and Mr. Weasley nearly drove into ditches three times), they finally reached the airport parking lot.
Exeter International was far more chaotic than expected.
Muggles pushed metal trolleys wildly, the mechanical female voice on the loudspeakers repeated flight information, and the security scanners flashed piercing red lights. Mr. Weasley's eyes widened, and he instinctively reached for his wand in his pocket.
"Put your wand away!" Mrs. Weasley snapped nervously. "We're doing this the Muggle way!"
At the check-in counter, Lily suddenly gasped, "Oh no! I didn't buy a ticket!"
"Don't forget you're a witch," Snape said. "A Confundus Charm should fix it."
"But that's against the rules," Lily whispered.
Snape shook his head. His wand slid silently from his sleeve.
Confundus! A barely perceptible golden flash struck the attendant.
"Oh, of course!" The woman's smile brightened. "Miss Evans, there's a window seat in economy, fifth row from the back. Have a pleasant flight!"
She quickly arranged seats for Lily and Snape together, efficiently printing boarding passes.
During boarding, Mr. Weasley became fascinated with the "giant metal bird" and almost got arrested for trying to approach the plane on foot. Snape had to cast another Confundus Charm for them to board smoothly.
The weightlessness at takeoff made several Weasleys and Eileen clutch their armrests in fear. Mrs. Weasley turned pale, gripping tightly, while Eileen squeezed her eyes shut.
"Is this really safe? No balancing charms like on broomsticks?" Mr. Weasley whispered to Snape.
"Don't worry," Snape said, "the death rate on planes isn't as high as in Quidditch."
Hours later, the plane landed at Tirana International Airport, Albania's capital, under the cover of night.
Warm, humid air greeted them. Majestic mountains cloaked in dark green forests rose in the distance, while nearby, exotic red-tiled, whitewashed buildings beckoned.
"Welcome to Europe's last magical frontier," Mr. Weasley breathed deeply, unfolding a Ministry-issued tourist map. "According to Magical Places: The History of Albanian Magic, this is one of the oldest wizarding settlements in Europe."
"I heard there are vampires in these forests," Bill whispered mysteriously, "and werewolves!"
Molly's nerves tightened immediately. "Children, don't leave our sight! Arthur, you promised this would be a safe holiday!"
Arthur busied himself examining a motorcycle parked roadside, casually replying, "Of course, dear, perfectly safe… oh, look, a two-wheeled Muggle vehicle, how clever!"
Snape and Lily found two dilapidated taxis for the group, bumping their way to a small town.
Following the map's directions, they reached a tavern with a heart-shaped sign: Dracula's Lair, written in golden letters.
They pushed open the heavy wooden door into a warm, dimly lit space. Copper lanterns hung from a wooden ceiling, illuminating walls lined with specimens of magical creatures.
Rough-hewn wooden tables seated an eclectic mix of witches and wizards—some wearing traditional Albanian robes, others clearly foreign tourists.
"I'll arrange the rooms," Mr. Weasley said. "You find a table."
No sooner had they settled at a large round table than a plump, round-faced woman with tousled brown curls and freckles approached briskly.
"Arthur!" she called excitedly, her voice loud enough to turn a few heads, "You've finally arrived!"
"Oh, Bertha! So good to see you!" Mr. Weasley waved warmly.
Bertha jogged over and grabbed Mr. Weasley's hand enthusiastically. "Severus and Lily, haven't seen you since graduation—look how tall you've gotten!"
She plopped down in a chair. "So, the whole family here for a holiday? How lovely!"
Her eyes lingered on Snape and Lily, gleaming with gossip. "So you two… traveling together?"
Snape felt indifferent toward Bertha Jones, the upperclasswoman who was later killed by Voldemort for being meddlesome and lacking sense.
He tried to change the subject. "Bertha, we haven't eaten yet. Any local dishes you recommend?"
After a hearty meal, they ascended creaky stairs. Outside, Albania's mountain ranges glowed blue-black beneath moonlight, distant calls of unknown creatures echoing from deep within the forests.