As time passed, night slowly descended.
Wrapped in the shroud of night, the Hogwarts Express approached its final destination at Hogsmeade Station.
Amidst the screeching friction of wheels against iron rails, the train gradually slowed down until it finally came to a complete halt.
The "tank" in the sky also appeared on the dark horizon. Harry and Ron could already see the silhouettes of the turrets and high towers of Hogwarts Castle perched atop the high cliff across the lake.
However, what the two of them didn't realize was that their tank was already on the verge of spiraling out of control.
Generally speaking, a tank's cruising range is never particularly high; this is dictated by its massive tonnage and its tracked propulsion system. Even after being modified into a flying tank, its range wasn't much better than the Muggle version.
After all, it weighed a full 51 tons—not to mention it had been fused with a Ford Anglia.
Even if its weight had been reduced by nearly three-quarters under the influence of Levitation Charms, it wasn't something that the flight apparatus of a Nimbus 2000 and a few auxiliary flight spells could easily sustain.
The fact that it had managed to carry Harry and Ron from outside King's Cross Station on a long-distance raid of several hundred kilometers to Hogwarts was already an impressive feat.
The flight engine, modified from a Nimbus 2000, groaned in agony. Ron discovered to his horror that their vehicle had begun to shudder, and the steering was becoming unresponsive.
"Come on, please," Ron coaxed with kind words, gently shaking the steering wheel. "We're almost there, just a little more..."
It was no use.
The Centurion Star Destroyer was enveloped in a cloud of thick smoke as it dove straight toward the ground.
Kyle, who was heading back to the castle in a Thestral-drawn carriage, looked up and spotted the out-of-control tank.
He wanted to help, but they were already within the Hogwarts grounds. Under the effect of the Anti-Apparition charms, he couldn't use the Flying Thunder God Technique.
Furthermore, the tank was flying so fast that it would be difficult to aim a spell. Trying to hit it with a Slowing Charm to bring it down gently was virtually impossible.
With no other options, Kyle could only clasp his hands together and silently pray for Dumbledore's beloved Savior-student and his unlucky friend, Ron.
I hope they're gone...
Wait, slip of the tongue. I hope they're okay.
Looking at the direction of their fall, it seemed to be toward Professor Sprout's beloved Whomping Willow.
Kyle added another item to his prayers—I hope the tree is okay.
Given the weight and momentum of a Centurion tank, if it hit the Whomping Willow, the tree would likely be left without a "whole corpse"—smashed to pieces.
When that happened, Professor Sprout would likely be out for blood.
Even if those two were lucky enough not to die at the hands of Professor Sprout, considering their current height and speed...
Though Kyle had considered the possibility of the flight apparatus failing and causing a fall during the design phase, and had added high-strength Cushioning Charms to the tank, they probably wouldn't do much in this state.
They wouldn't die from the fall, at least. As long as they were rescued in time, they'd be fine after lying in Madam Pomfrey's ward for ten days to a fortnight.
Just as the tank passed tremulously over the Black Lake, a roar suddenly erupted from the water's surface.
"The Fifth Gate, Gate of View: Open!"
A storm of green magical power instantly erupted around Hagrid.
With eyes wide and glaring, he stood on the small boat crossing the lake. His legs suddenly exerted massive force, and the calm surface of the lake exploded with a giant spray of water, as if explosives had been detonated.
For a moment, the splashing water cascaded down like a torrential downpour, drenching the heads of the little wizards crossing the lake.
Hagrid leaped high into the air, lunging toward the runaway tank.
He originally wanted to intercept the tank, but with no leverage in mid-air, he could only find a way to get the two unlucky rascals out first.
Kyle extended his hand and pointed from a distance, causing several stones to form beneath Hagrid's feet.
Hagrid kicked off the stones in mid-air to gain momentum, quickly catching up with the wobbling tank. He stood on the tank's turret and smashed open the locked hatch with a single punch.
Seeing Hagrid with his hair and beard standing on end like a demon god, Harry and Ron were frozen in fear inside the cabin.
"What are you standing there for? Get out, now!" Hagrid bellowed.
Only then did the two of them flusteredly scramble out of the hatch via the ladder.
Hagrid tucked one under each arm and kicked off hard, shooting toward the ground like a cannonball.
A large, soft, inflatable cushion expanded across the ground—Kyle's Transfiguration.
The air cushion accurately caught Hagrid and the two show-stealing troublemakers tucked under his armpits.
At that moment, the out-of-control tank in the sky had already scraped past the castle turrets, skimmed over the greenhouses and vegetable patches in the darkness, and flown over the black lawns outside.
The falling tank flew faster and faster, carrying the momentum of a thunderbolt, until it crashed heavily into an obstacle ahead.
BOOM!
Even from a great distance, Kyle clearly captured the loud crash of metal colliding with wood.
Oh boy. It's over.
The Whomping Willow was most likely finished.
When the school song was played at the start-of-term feast this year, a cheerful tune like Ievan Polkka probably wouldn't be appropriate. It would be better to play the Funeral Coffin Dance meme song again, just like last year.
Because Harry and Ron were likely about to be beaten to death by Professor Sprout and sent off in coffins.
At that moment, Professor Sprout was standing dumbfounded not far from the Whomping Willow. A branch of the tree came rolling to a stop at her feet.
She stared blankly at the scene before her. All that remained of the Whomping Willow was a jagged, uneven stump.
Clearly, this precious willow would not survive.
And the culprit behind all this—a fifty-ton Centurion tank—had continued its momentum after snapping the Whomping Willow, crashing straight into the Forbidden Forest in the distance.
A long time later, Professor Sprout finally snapped out of it.
After a brief moment of daze, Harry suddenly let out a heart-wrenching wail.
"Ron! Our luggage is still in the vehicle!"
Ron, who was still basking in the joy of surviving the ordeal, felt as if he had been struck by lightning.
"It's over! What are we going to do about classes?"
"Don't worry about that; the House-elves will help you get it back," Hagrid comforted them.
"That's great. I was wondering how we were supposed to go to class without wands," Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief.
"To class? I don't think you'll be staying at Hogwarts for classes much longer."
A cold voice rang out beside them.
Snape, draped in his eternal, never-changing black cloak, walked slowly toward the three of them.
At that moment, the sinister smile on Snape's face told Harry that he and Ron were in a very bad spot.
Harry and Ron hid behind Hagrid, not daring to even look at Snape.
"Hagrid, leave these two to me."
Hagrid looked conflicted; he also knew how much trouble Harry and Ron had caused.
"Professor Snape, please don't expel them," Hagrid said pleadingly.
"That is not for me to decide," Snape said heartlessly. "That depends on Professor McGonagall's opinion. She is the one who decides whether Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley stay or leave."
Harry and Ron looked at each other, their faces pale. Hagrid's face was equally pale.
Even though Professor McGonagall was technically Hagrid's junior in terms of school years, Hagrid still felt a sense of dread when facing the incredibly strict professor.
It was truly hard to say whether Professor McGonagall would expel these two little rascals.
"Time to go, Potter. And you, Weasley."
Snape's voice was as cold as a Reaper harvesting souls.
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