A Bentley cruised smoothly down the road, its piano-black body gleaming softly in the sunlight.
Since Li Qingshu was escorting Neville and his parents home, only father and son were in the car.
Reclining comfortably in the Bentley's spacious back seat, Zhang Xiao asked curiously:
"Dad, what happened to the Rolls-Royce?"
Zhang Chengdao glanced in the rearview mirror at his son, who had taken off his shoes and sprawled across the back seat with one leg crossed over the other, and chided him with a laugh:
"Can't you sit properly? That car got smashed up, remember? I couldn't be bothered to repair it, so I just got another one."
Their departure date had long since been settled. They would rest at home for a day before setting off on their journey back.
So Zhang Xiao was in no hurry. He wasn't a child anymore. What good would getting impatient do?
He yawned and pulled out his own little blanket, ready for a nap. The drive home was quite long, especially with London's traffic.
They would be lucky to get there in an hour.
The night before the holidays, everyone had stayed up playing until midnight. Who knew what Dumbledore had been thinking, but he had actually held a ball.
His father suddenly said with a smile:
"Oh, sleepy already? I thought you'd be itching to ask about going home. Not bad! You're getting more patient!"
Well, if you're bringing that up, I'm wide awake!
Zhang Xiao perked up at once and scrambled upright, his eyes shining:
"Aren't we going back tomorrow? Dad, how are we getting there? A Teleportation Talisman or End of the World in a Step?"
Thanks to Apparition and Floo Powder, wizards' travel costs were practically zero.
Daoists were much the same. They didn't have convenient magic