The Ford Anglia cruised through the clouds, while the lights of the Muggle World below glittered like scattered stars.
Fred gripped the steering wheel tightly, with George beside him acting as navigator. Their faces were a mixture of tension and excitement.
Ron clung to the car window, trying hard to make out the outlines of the towns rushing past below.
Skofot sat quietly in the corner of the back seat, seemingly anxiously tugging at the hem of his oversized pajamas, while his mind raced at full speed.
Privet Drive... the Dursley family... a Savior forcibly crammed into a cupboard and cut off from the wizarding world.
This was more interesting than he had imagined.
Harry's isolation and helplessness were the perfect opportunity to exploit his vulnerability.
"Over there!" Ron suddenly shouted in a lowered voice, pointing at a neat, uniform street below that reeked of middle-class life.
"Look! Number Four! The one with bars on the window!"
The car silently descended and hovered directly in front of Harry's bedroom window.
Through the glass, they could see a small black figure lying on the bed, apparently asleep.
The iron bars welded outside the window gleamed coldly beneath the moonlight, like prison bars.
"Merlin's beard..." Ron muttered. "They really locked him up!"
"What do we do now?" George scratched his head. "We can't exactly knock on the glass and wake him up, can we? And those bars..."
Fred raised his wand toward the bars.
"Alohomora!"
A flash of spell-light passed over them, but the bars did not move an inch.
"Damn it, they're not magically locked—they're welded shut!"
A brief silence fell over the car.
Forcing them apart would make too much noise and could wake the Dursley family.
At that moment, Skofot spoke timidly, his voice barely audible. "Um... I... I