The night on Privet Drive was silent. Rove found that crouching in a tree was more comfortable than squatting in a corner.
> [Status: Mild Fatigue]
> [Willpower Check: Passed]
> [Warning: Ring-bearer's Sanity is dropping]
Suddenly, a low rumble broke the silence. Immediately after, two piercing beams of light cut through the darkness, diving down from the clouds.
System warning boxes instantly filled his vision.
> [Aerial Unit Approaching Detected!]
> [Identifying Friend or Foe...]
> [Identification Result: Friendly]
> [Unit Type: Dwarven Gyrocopter / Mithril Assault Chariot]
"Reinforcements have arrived!"
Rove watched the "Chariot" hover outside the second-floor window of Number 4, Privet Drive.
The window rolled down, revealing Ron's freckled face.
"Harry!" Ron shouted in a hushed voice. "Have you packed everything?"
"Ron!" Harry poked his head out from behind the bars, his face full of shock. "How did you... this is...!"
"Cut the chat, hurry!" Fred Weasley leaned out from the driver's seat. "Stand back, we're going to tear these bars off!"
Rove watched this scene, tears welling up in his eyes.
Riders of Rohan piloting Dwarven technology, crossing mountains and rivers to save the trapped Ring-bearer! The imagery was just too perfect!
He hesitated no longer, leaping down from the tree, dashing across the lawn, and climbing up the drainpipe just as the iron bars were ripped off by brute force.
CLANG! The bars were torn away and crashed heavily onto the lawn.
"Who's there?!" George in the car raised his wand alertly.
"It's me."
Rove grabbed the windowsill with one hand and the flying car's rear bumper with the other, poking his head out from the shadows. His gaze was sharp as a knife.
"Rove?!" The three in the car exclaimed simultaneously.
"You... what are you doing here?" Ron's eyes widened. "You look like a savage!"
"Rangers never sleep." Rove flipped into Harry's room and patted the trunk of the car. "Nice ride. Dwarven craftsmanship lives up to its reputation."
"Dwarven?" Fred looked at George confusedly. "Did he say this Ford was made by Dwarves?"
"No time to explain." Rove quickly scanned the room; the evacuation route was already marked on his System interface. "The Troll has awakened."
As if to confirm his words, Uncle Vernon's roar came from the next room, his footsteps shaking the floorboards.
"Damn it!" Harry frantically handed Hedwig's cage to Ron. "My wand and broom are still in the cupboard downstairs!"
"Damn, the door's locked!" Harry pulled desperately at the bedroom door.
"Let me!" George was about to pull out a hairpin.
"Too slow."
Rove stepped forward, pulling a broken sword hilt from his robes—the [Shard of Narsil] Gandalf had given him.
> [Item: Shard of Narsil]
> [Trait: Armor Piercing (Instant Death to physical locks)]
Rove jammed the broken hilt into the keyhole and gave his wrist a sharp twist.
Crack!
The lock burst open as if made of paper.
"Whoa," the twins said in unison. "That was wicked."
"Get your stuff, quick!" Rove guarded the doorway, gripping his frying pan with both hands in a defensive stance. "I'll cover the rear!"
Harry rushed downstairs to get his things while the Weasley brothers received the luggage in the car. A few minutes later, Harry ran back panting, dragging his trunk, with a furiously roaring Uncle Vernon right behind him.
In Rove's eyes, Uncle Vernon had completely transformed.
> [Warning: Elite Monster Encounter!]
> [Name: Cave Troll (Vernon)]
> [Level: Lv 5]
> [Skills: Savage Charge, Roar, Grapple]
This obese man in striped pajamas had morphed into a giant monster with grey skin and a mouth full of fangs, wielding what looked like a club but was actually a clothes hanger.
"Petunia! The freak is trying to break out!" Vernon roared, charging into the room.
Harry had just climbed onto the windowsill, one foot already inside the car.
"Come back here! You damned boy!"
Vernon lunged, grabbing Harry's ankle. His strength was astonishing; Harry felt like his bones were being crushed as he was dragged back by force.
"Let him go!" Ron and the twins pulled desperately on Harry's arms from inside the car, but the car was slipping in the air, and they couldn't overpower the berserk Vernon.
In this critical moment.
Rove gripped his frying pan with both hands, using the momentum of his fall to smash down hard on Vernon's hand gripping Harry.
"EAT MY JUMPING CHOP, TROLL!!!"
CLANG!!!
The frying pan made intimate contact with the back of Vernon's hand. A red System notification floated up:
> [Critical Hit! Physical Damage Dealt!]
> [Target Suffering Intense Pain! Forced Release!]
"ARGH!!!"
Vernon let out a scream like Tom Cat, retracting his hand as if electrocuted. The hand began to swell and turn red visibly.
"Get in! Quick!"
Rove took the opportunity to shove Harry into the back seat, then agilely jumped into the car himself.
"Go! Go!" Ron shouted.
Fred slammed on the gas. The "Dwarven Chariot" roared, spewed a puff of black smoke, and shot into the night sky.
Uncle Vernon danced at the window clutching his hand, screaming curses. Aunt Petunia and Dudley crowded the window too, staring dumbfounded as the old Ford flew toward the moon.
Wind whistled through the car windows. Harry slumped in the back seat, gasping for air, his face still showing lingering shock. Hedwig hooted unhappily in her cage.
"You alright, Harry?" Ron asked with concern.
"I'm fine..." Harry rubbed his ankle, then turned to look at Rove sitting next to him.
Rove was watching the night sky behind them vigilantly, still holding his frying pan.
"Rove," Harry couldn't help asking, "what did you call him just now? A Troll?"
"That's his general term for dark creatures," Ron explained while comforting Scabbers, clearly used to it. "Last time he called Mrs. Norris a 'Warg'."
Rove ignored their chatter. He looked down at Privet Drive shrinking below, watching the uniform houses turn into tiny squares.
> [Mission Complete: Rescue the Ring-bearer]
> [Rewards Calculating...]
> [Acquired Skill: Vehicle Operation (Beginner) — Even though you were just shouting orders.]
> [Acquired Reputation: Weasley Family Affinity +10]
He sighed in relief, put away the frying pan, and leaned back in the seat.
"Look." Rove pointed at the brilliant starry sky outside the window, his tone becoming deep and desolate. "Middle-earth lies beneath our feet."
George turned around from the front seat, smiling. "That's the Surrey motorway, mate. But it does look pretty from up here."
Rove smiled faintly, offering no rebuttal.
Through the System filter, the winding highway was emitting a silver glow, like the flowing Great River Anduin, guiding the Fellowship of the Ring to their next sanctuary.
That was their destination—Rivendell, or rather, "The Burrow."
read more inpat****
ilham20
lots harry potter story
