When Harry knocked on the office door, got permission, and walked in.

Dumbledore was in his dressing gown, yawning constantly.

The Sorting Hat was still describing the motorcycle to Godric. The low roaring engine, the bright and dazzling headlights, the streamlined body, and the speed as fast as the wind made Gryffindor extremely envious.

"They've been going over the same thing over and over again all night?" Harry deadpanned.

Dumbledore stretched himself and said, "Yes, we quarreled all night."

"Godric even wanted Fawkes to call you over and show him the motorcycle, but Fawkes didn't dare."

Phoenix shouted stubbornly.

Just as the Sorting Hat was about to translate, it immediately flew over, stepped on it, and cried anxiously.

"When do we leave?" Harry looked at him.

Dumbledore was startled and sighed: "I was planning to catch up on some sleep, you came too early."

Harry stared at him expressionlessly. "You didn't listen to the hat's nagging all night last night, did you?"

Dumbledore laughed awkwardly.

"Take a break and set off again at noon?" Harry sat down, waved his wand, and a book in the office fell into his hand.

Dumbledore shook his head: "Harry, I'm not at that stage yet..."

"If there really are Horcruxes there, he would have set up some traps." Harry opened the book and said slowly, "Maybe Senior Tom will be there too, and maybe there are a dozen Death Eaters."

Dumbledore was about to nod.

Harry continued, "Besides, you don't have a good brain to begin with. I'm afraid that if you get too sleepy, the fecal stones in your brain will grow."

"That's not nice of you to say to an old man," Dumbledore muttered, shaking his head, and after a breakfast that had more icing than a muffin, he returned to his bedroom.

There was no peace in the principal's office.

Harry couldn't even concentrate on reading.

A hat, a painting, and a bird urged him to release the motorcycle. Godric had long been eager to take a look.

The Sorting Hat might not know as much about motorcycles as Fawkes. It was only the first time it had seen one, but Fawkes had seen it at least seven or eight times - Sirius's motorcycle had always been in Hagrid's hands, and although Hagrid only had magical creatures in his mind, he would occasionally take it out for a ride.

After all, apart from the Divine Horse, there was no other creature in the Forbidden Forest that could match his size.

The hat's introduction was a mess, and even Godric, after looking around the motorcycle, could tell that nine and a half out of ten sentences were lies - and the only half that was true was praising Harry's superb magic.

Harry had to explain these things to three curious babies who were heading for three thousand years old.

From mechanical structure to physical theory.

Godric was amazed, this knowledge was amazing, Muggles had advanced to such an extent that they could develop vehicles that could travel hundreds or thousands of miles a day without the help of magic. In his impression, Muggles were still just wearing linen clothes, holding pitchforks, and grinning at him like cats with their fur standing on end.

For some reason, Fox felt a little depressed.

Two or three hours later, Harry finally had some free time, but when he picked up the book again and hadn't turned a few pages, Dumbledore came out of the bedroom, wearing a deep blue robe and a large pointed wizard hat.

"Four hours?" Harry put the book down.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I would like to sleep a little longer, but I am already over a hundred years old. The sleep of an old person is like water in the desert, pitifully scarce."

"And very valuable," Harry added.

He smiled slightly and noticed the motorcycle in the office: "What a cool thing, I remember Sirius had one too?"

"Three now, maybe four?" Harry thought of Sirius' letter a few days ago. Crossing the Pacific Ocean was much more difficult than he expected, and the Ministry of Magic in Erimacken seemed to be a little too vigilant. They discovered him three hundred nautical miles from the coast.

They chased him all the way until they saw him enter the waters of Canaid with their own eyes, and then they gave up following him.

I had originally planned to come back before Christmas so that I could attend the Christmas dance and see with my own eyes how my godson and his girlfriend perform.

Now whether he can come back before the New Year is a headache for him.

"Are we going to ride this bike too?" Dumbledore walked over. "Although it has been in Hagrid's hands for the past few years, I have never ridden in it."

"I don't want Apparition, or a Portkey, or a Knight Bus," Harry said defiantly.

Dumbledore sighed: "Apparition is an excellent spell."

"I can't do that unless I have to." Harry enunciated his words firmly.

"The Ministry of Magic may..." Dumbledore was a little worried.

Harry shook his head: "Don't worry, I have consulted Uncle Arthur, as long as it is not seen by Muggles, it is not against the laws of the Ministry of Magic."

Dumbledore was startled: "Arthur has it too?"

Harry nodded.

Dumbledore laughed. "Harry, can't you learn from Arthur and make your own laws?"

"Uncle Arthur knows what's going on." Harry glanced at him. "He's smarter than you, and braver too. At least he's not afraid of the power in his hands."

Dumbledore smiled bitterly: "I shouldn't have mentioned this."

They had a good lunch in the office.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and the window on the wall twisted and changed, and soon expanded into a door. He pointed his wand again, and the French window opened, letting in cold wind.

Harry and Dumbledore got on their motorcycles.

The Sorting Hat yelled, "Harry, wait, let me do it, let me do it, I need to get familiar with this body."

As he spoke, he transferred his breath to the motorcycle, and without waiting for the two people riding it to say anything, he twisted the accelerator, and with a hum - it stopped in place, leaving a black brake mark with a hissing sound.

"What's going on?" The Sorting Hat was a little surprised.

"Handbrake, release the handbrake." Harry said expressionlessly as he gently pushed the right handlebar.

The Sorting Hat suddenly realized what was happening, released the handbrake, and the motorcycle roared. It immediately rushed out of the window and into the snow.

Dumbledore turned around, waved his wand, and the window returned to its original state.

"It was so fast that I almost didn't have time to cast the spell." Dumbledore took back his wand. "How does it compare to the Firebolt?"

"Under normal circumstances, it is about 1.5 times of that." Harry introduced briefly.

The Sorting Hat asked: "Anything else that's not normal?"

"Yes, but don't even think about it. At least I won't tell you now." Harry tapped the dashboard lightly. "Wait until you are familiar with this body."

The Sorting Hat let out an "Oh" and restlessly turned the accelerator again.

"One more thing." Harry patted the dashboard again.

The Sorting Hat asked in confusion.

"I'll get you a map of Great Britain when we get back. Memorize it." Harry deadpanned, "You're flying in the wrong direction. Fly south."

The motorcycle stopped in mid-air, and the Sorting Hat was confused: "Which way is South?"

Harry was stunned. He began to doubt whether it was a wise choice to let the hat be his mount.

How could there be a mount that can't tell the direction?

"Harry, I was just a hat before." The Sorting Hat keenly caught Harry's slightly leaked emotions and immediately defended itself, "I don't need to know the directions, I don't need to know which way is south."

"But I'm smart. I'm the smartest hat, and now I'm the smartest motorcycle. I can tell the left from the right very clearly."

Harry sighed and pointed in a direction: "Over there."

The hat immediately turned around and continued to gallop forward.

It is indeed very smart. After asking Harry how to identify the direction, it learned it immediately. Although the wind and snow were too strong and it would occasionally make some small mistakes, once Harry pointed them out, it would correct them immediately and would not make the same mistake again.

The flight took about half an hour.

The hat suddenly realized something: "Why can't I feel like flying?"

"It wasn't like this when you and I rode on a flying broom. The wind was blowing hard and hitting our faces. Was it because we were going too slowly?"

Dumbledore agreed with this: "Harry, I think so too."

Harry deadpanned, "You really think so?"

One person and one car expressed their intentions again.

Harry pressed a button on the dashboard, and the spell protecting the motorcycle was lifted. A strong wind blew immediately, making Dumbledore grimaced and his hat sway, twisting it to slow down.

"Why is the wind so strong!" exclaimed the Sorting Hat.

"Close it." Dumbledore covered his face with one hand and his hat with the other. "Harry, close it."

The magic power enveloped him, and he was able to hold on, preventing his old bones from being broken by the strong wind.

It wasn't until ten minutes later that Harry pressed the button again.

"The Firebolt is only 150 miles per hour, and this car can go 230 miles per hour," Harry explained to them in a gentle voice, "and we are at high altitude now."

The Sorting Hat remembered the button: "I swear I will never touch it again."

"A little further east." Harry glanced at the ground. "We'll go to Little Hangletonshire first."

"Aren't we going to the Gaunt House?" Dumbledore asked. "I remember it was in Great Hangleton."

"Riddle's old house is there," Harry said calmly. "It's on the way to Great Hangleton, so it wouldn't hurt to stop by."

He said, pressing another button.

The magic spreads.

"Ma...Non-Wizard Expelling Charm." Dumbledore sensed the magic. "And the Disillusionment Charm. Well, there is another one..."

Harry explained, "It's a spell that Uncle Arthur and I developed together. It can block some infrared photography equipment. Ordinary people now have very powerful photography technology. They were able to take clear photos of the moon more than a hundred years ago."

"And it can capture the heat of living things, just like the Snake Eyes Potion."

Dumbledore was surprised. He raised his head and looked at the sky: "The moon?"

"It's the moon." Harry nodded. "In fact, I was also surprised when I learned this from Hermione. Ordinary people are not inferior to wizards in many areas, and may even be stronger than wizards."

Dumbledore said nothing, his breathing becoming heavy.

Ten minutes later.

Harry slapped the dashboard: "We're here, land quickly."

The Sorting Hat manipulated its body and landed awkwardly, stumbling. Fortunately, the Expelling Spell worked and there were no other vehicles on the road, so no accident occurred.

Once the hat started to actually resemble a motorcycle, Harry pulled the spell back.

After passing a road sign that read "Welcome to Little Hangleton", they officially drove into this somewhat old-fashioned town.

Riddle Mansion was on a hillside not far away. Harry could still see it clearly through the wind and snow. It was already in ruins.