Harry Takes a Break

Chapter 7

          The morning air was cool as the trio emerged from the motel, bags slung over their shoulders. They made their way to the waiting cab, Hermione leading the charge with her typical sense of urgency.

"You know," Hermione said as they settled into the cab and it pulled into London traffic, "I've been reading a bit about planes. It's quite fascinating, actually-did you know the one we're boarding- the Airbus A380- can travel over 1000 kilometers per hour? And they use these enormous engines that-"

Ron, sitting next to Harry in the backseat, let out a groan, rubbing his eyes. "I'll take a broomstick over a metal flying box any day," he muttered, clearly not sharing Hermione's curiosity.

As the cab hit a slow patch of traffic, Harry glanced out the window at the packed streets, the usual hustle of London morning commuters. Meanwhile, Ron reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his brand-new iPhone 15 Pro, a shiny silver rectangle that he was still trying to understand.

"Right, so how does this thing work again?" Ron asked, holding the phone gingerly, as if it might explode at any moment. He poked at the screen, watching it light up. "There are no buttons, but it knows when I touch it? Mad, this."

"It's called a touchscreen, Ron," Hermione explained with a patient sigh from the front seat. "Just swipe to unlock it."

Ron swiped-wrongly at first-with a bright flash. The phone tumbled to the floor. Ron then tried again, successfully getting into the phone. His face lit up with a mix of awe and confusion as he stared at the apps. "And what are these little square things?"

"Apps," Harry replied, though he was only marginally more informed than Ron. "They do different things. Just... tap one."

Ron tentatively tapped the weather app, and up popped a detailed forecast for London. His brow furrowed. "It knows what the weather is... right now?"

"Of course it does," Hermione said. "Muggles are quite resourceful, you know."

The car finally began to move again, and after what felt like hours in traffic, they arrived at Heathrow. The bustling crowds and towering terminals greeted them as they stepped out of the cab and into the sea of travelers. Hermione fished out their magical ID cards and passports, charmed to pass unnoticed through Muggle checks. Their suitcases passed through an agent, whishing them safe travels.

The security process was slow, but eventually, they made it through the lines and into the terminal, where they found themselves with a little time to spare. Harry stretched his arms and glanced around the large waiting area, while Ron settled into a chair, phone still in hand, eyes wide as he scrolled through the apps.

"Blimey, look at this," Ron muttered, poking at a map app that showed their location inside the airport. "It knows where we are! Without magic! That's-how does it do that?"

"Satellites," Hermione said casually, though her focus was on checking their flight status. "They've got things in space that help track locations."

Ron stared at her blankly. "Space? They've sent things to space? You mean like... owls?"

Harry snorted. "Not quite."

Ron shook his head in disbelief as he continued to explore his phone, stumbling onto the camera feature. He turned the lens on himself, blinking at his own reflection on the screen. "Is this supposed to be me? It looks too... real."

"That's the point, Ron," Harry said, sitting next to him. "It's like a moving photograph."

Ron looked genuinely perplexed, snapping a picture and holding the phone up to Harry. "And where does the picture go?"