Percy cleared his throat and began to read. "The Knight Bus."
Those who have ridden the knight bus groaned.
"I've always wanted to take the Knight Bus," Neville said. "But my gran has never let me."
Harry grimaced. "Trust me Neville; you don't want to ever go on it."
"It can't be that bad," Dean said.
Ron snorted. "Oh yes it can."
Harry was several streets away before he collapsed onto a low wall in Magnolia Crescent, panting from the effort of dragging his trunk.
"I'm surprised you got that far," Bill said. "Especially after all of the energy you must've used to perform accidental magic."
"Adrenaline." Several people said at once.
He sat quite still, anger still surging through him, listening to the frantic thumping of his heart.
But after ten minutes alone in the dark street, a new emotion overtook him: panic.
"You weren't the only one panicking," Amelia said. "The ministry was in a frenzy trying to find you."
Harry looked sheepish. "Yeah, sorry about that."
"I'm surprised you were panicking," Dean said. "After everything you've been through, being out at night isn't really a big deal."
"It wasn't that I was out at night," Harry told him. "It was that I had used magic, I thought that I was expelled from Hogwarts."
Whichever way he looked at it, he had never been in a worse fix.
Harry was on the receiving end of looks of disbelief.
"You've never been in a worse fix?" Tonks said incredulously.
"What about facing You-Know-Who not once, but twice?" Dean said.
"Or Fluffy?" Neville shuddered in remembrance.
"Or a troll and giant man eating spiders," Seamus added.
"Or-" Justin began but Harry cut him off.
"Okay I get it," Harry said. "I was being over dramatic."
Cormac snorted. "You think?"
He was stranded, quite alone, in the dark Muggle world, with absolutely nowhere to go.
"You'll always have somewhere to go," Ron told him. "You could've come to the burrow."
"You were in Egypt," Harry reminded him.
Ron shrugged. "It doesn't matter, if you had nowhere else to go you could've came anyways."
And the worst of it was; he had just done serious magic, which meant that he was almost certainly expelled from Hogwarts. He had broken the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry so badly; he was surprised Ministry of Magic representatives weren't swooping down on him where he sat.
"There actually were ministry officials swooping down," Kingsley told the fifth year Gryffindor. "They just weren't swooping down on you. Obliviators were sent to your house to wipe Marge's memory."
Harry shivered and looked up and down Magnolia Crescent.
What, was going to happen to him? Would he be arrested, or would he simply be outlawed from the wizarding world?
Looks of exasperation mixed with amusement were sent to him.
Harry groaned embarrassed by the train of thought he had at thirteen.
"That's being just a little over dramatic," Dean said amused.
He thought of Ron and Hermione, and his heart sank even lower. Harry was sure that, criminal or not,
Several people rolled their eyes.
"Even if you had done the magic on purpose you still wouldn't be classified as a criminal," Tonks said trying not to laugh.
Ron and Hermione would want to help him now,
"Of course we would." Ron and Hermione said together.
but they were both abroad,
"If you had nowhere else to go you could've come to my house," Neville said.
"Really?" Harry said somewhat shocked remembering the few times he'd seen the stern looking woman. "You're grandmother seems..."
Neville laughed nervously. "Yeah gran can be really strict but she would've let you stay."
"Thanks Nev," Harry said sincerely.
and with Hedwig gone, he had no means of contacting them.
"That's not good," Padma said frowning. "At least if you had Hedwig you could owl for help."
He didn't have any Muggle money, either. There was a little wizard gold in the money bag at the bottom of his trunk, but the rest of the fortune his parents had left him was stored in a vault at Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London. He'd never be able to drag his trunk all the way to London. Unless…
"Oh no," Hermione moaned.
"Harry please tell me you aren't thinking of doing something reckless?" Remus asked dreading the answer.
Harry looked sheepish as he remembered what he had thought of doing. "Depends on what you define as reckless."
The hall groaned and the adults looked worried.
He looked down at his wand, which he was still clutching in his hand. If he was already expelled
"Harry you wouldn't be expelled for performing accidental magic," Hermione told him. "But if you were to do some on purpose, well that's a different story."
"I had gotten in trouble the previous year for a house elf casting a hover charm, they said if I did anymore magic I'd be expelled" Harry reminded her. "I blew up my aunt, what was I supposed to think?"
"He does have a point Hermione," Ron told her.
(his heart was now thumping painfully fast), a bit more magic couldn't hurt. He had the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father — what if he bewitched the trunk to make it feather-light, tied it to his broomstick, covered himself in the cloak, and flew to London?
"Harry!" Hermione and Molly yelled as McGonagall yelled, "Mr. Potter!"
Everyone was either looking at him with amusement or sending him exasperated looks.
"You didn't honestly think that would work did you?" Megan giggled.
"Did you really think you could fly with your trunk all the way to London under your invisibility cloak?" Zacharias asked condescendingly.
Hermione and Ron glared at the Hufflepuff, they may think Harry's idea was silly but Zacharias didn't have to be so rude.
"You wouldn't have really done that would you Harry?" Hermione asked hoping her best friend wouldn't actually do something so foolish.
"Now I wouldn't," Harry said. "But back then I was so worried that I probably would've."
Then he could get the rest of his money out of his vault and… begin his life as an outcast.
More amused and exasperated looks were sent at him but he ignored them.
It was a horrible prospect, but he couldn't sit on this wall forever, or he'd find himself trying to explain to Muggle police why he was out in the dead of night with a trunk full of spell books and a broomstick.
The muggleborns grimaced.
"That wouldn't be good," Justin said. "There isn't really an excuse for that."
Harry opened his trunk again and pushed the contents aside, looking for the Invisibility Cloak — but before he had found it, he straightened up suddenly, looking around him once more.
A funny prickling on the back of his neck had made Harry feel he was being watched,
The aurors and Amelia looked impressed.
"Good senses," Moody said in approval.
"I was being watched," Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione.
Snuffles perked up, he remembered seeing Harry that night, of course he hadn't known until now why he was out that late by himself.
but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses.
He bent over his trunk again, but almost immediately stood up once more, his hand clenched on his wand. He had sensed rather than heard it:
Both of Moody's eyes looked at Harry. "I would definitely like to see him in action," he grunted quietly to Kingsley. "The boy has better senses than most of the aurors."
"As would I Alastor," Kingsley said.
someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind him.
The hall tensed once more.
"How is it that Harry always seems to find trouble," Justin muttered.
"Horrible luck," Ernie muttered back.
Harry squinted at the black alleyway. If only it would move, then he'd know whether it was just a stray cat or — something else.
Snuffles growled causing the trio to laugh; those who saw the little exchange looked confused.
"Lumos," Harry muttered, and a light appeared at the end of his wand, almost dazzling him.
"Harry performed magic," Hermione said. "Lumos is an actual spell, I understand why he wouldn't get into trouble with the ministry for blowing up his aunt on accident but that was on purpose."
"Hermione," Ron hissed. "Are you trying to get Harry into trouble?"
"What?" Hermione asked shocked. "Of course not, don't be silly Ronald. I just want to know how it is that he didn't get a letter for performing magic."
"It's most likely because magic was already reported being done by Mr. Potter and was found to be accidental," Amelia said. "They probably thought that the spell was accidental as well."
Umbridge smiled. "Well now that we know Mr. Potter performed magic purposely it should go on his record, after all he shouldn't be above the rules."
Everyone with the exception of those who still didn't like Harry glared at Umbridge.
"Delores," Amelia said in a warning tone. "He didn't perform magic to show off; he thought that he was in danger. After the letter he received in his second year we can let this one go."
Umbridge looked furious but at a look from Fudge said nothing.
He held it high over his head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; the garage door gleamed, and between them Harry saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes.
"What is it?" A first year Hufflepuff whispered more to herself than to anyone.
Harry stepped backward. His legs hit his trunk and he tripped. His wand flew out of his hand as he flung out an arm to break his fall, and he landed, hard, in the gutter.
Snuffles whimpered, he didn't mean for Harry to get hurt.
Harry gestured for the large dog to come to him, Snuffles did so and Harry scratched his head.
Harry leaned down to whisper in the dog's ear. "It's okay I didn't get hurt."
There was a deafening BANG, and Harry threw up his hands to shield his eyes against a sudden blinding light…
Bill and Charlie started laughing and people sent them odd looks.
"What's so funny?" Dean asked.
"Harry accidentally called the Knight Bus," Charlie said trying to stifle his laughter.
"How do you call the Knight Bus?" Dean asked wondering how Harry falling called the bus.
"You stick your wand out while standing on the side of the road," Bill told him once he stopped laughing.
With a yell, he rolled back onto the pavement, just in time. A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt exactly where Harry had just been lying.
Snuffles let out a whine and Harry scratched his head reassuringly.
Molly glanced at Harry just to reassure herself that he was fine.
"Now really," Hermione huffed. "They need to be more careful."
"You've been on the Knight Bus," Harry reminded her. "You know how awful they are at driving."
Hermione grimaced remembering when they took the Knight Bus.
They belonged, as Harry saw when he raised his head, to a triple-decker, violently purple bus,
"Purple?" Dean said making a face. "Did Lockhart pick the color?"
Those who heard Deans comment snickered.
which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus.
For a split second, Harry wondered if he had been knocked silly by his fall.
Those who knew what the Knight Bus was snickered.
Harry rolled his eyes. "I grew up with muggles, I wasn't exactly used to large purple buses appearing out of nowhere and almost running me over."
Then a conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve—"
The conductor stopped abruptly. He had just caught sight of Harry, who was still sitting on the ground.
"He's just now noticing Harry lying on the ground?" Seamus asked.
"Stan isn't exactly the smartest bloke in the world," Charlie said.
Those who had met Stan snorted, that was the understatement of the century.
Harry snatched up his wand again and scrambled to his feet. Close up, he saw that Stan Shunpike was only a few years older than he was, eighteen or nineteen at most, with large, protruding ears and quite a few pimples.
Parvarti and Lavender each made faces at his description.
"He still looks the same," Tonks said.
"Do you know him?" Harry asked.
"He was three years under me at school," Tonks told him.
"What were you doin' down there?" said Stan, dropping his professional manner.
"Fell over," said Harry.
"'Choo fall over for?" sniggered Stan.
Most of the students rolled their eyes.
"He didn't do it on purpose," Lavender said.
"Idiot," Ron muttered so that his mother couldn't hear.
"I didn't do it on purpose," said Harry, annoyed. One of the knees in his jeans was torn, and the hand he had thrown out to break his fall was bleeding.
"You were hurt," Molly said worriedly.
"I was fine," Harry told her. "It was just a scratch."
Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips.
He suddenly remembered why he had fallen over and turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway between the garage and fence.
"If there was something there I doubt it stuck around once that blasted bus showed up," Moody said.
The Knight Bus's headlamps were flooding it with light, and it was empty.
"I wonder if there was really something there," Hannah whispered to Susan.
"I'm sure if there was that we'll find out before the book is over," Susan told her.
"'Choo lookin' at?" said Stan.
"There was a big black thing," said Harry, pointing uncertainly into the gap. "Like a dog… but massive…"
He looked around at Stan, whose mouth was slightly open. With a feeling of unease, Harry saw Stan's eyes move to the scar on Harry's forehead.
Harry sighed and tried to flatten his hair to cover his scar.
"Woss that on your 'ead?" said Stan abruptly.
"Nothing," said Harry quickly, flattening his hair over his scar. If the Ministry of Magic was looking for him, he didn't want to make it too easy for them.
"They would already know that you were picked up Mr. Potter," Amelia said.
Harry looked confused. "Why?"
"Records are kept as to where the Knight Bus stops," Amelia elaborated. "As you are the only wizard in your area the ministry would assume it was you."
Harry frowned. "That must be how Fudge knew where to find me," Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione.
"Woss your name?" Stan persisted.
"Neville Longbottom," said Harry, saying the first name that came into his head.
Everyone turned to stare at Harry and Neville looked shocked.
Harry mistook the look on Neville's face. "Sorry about that Neville."
"I'm not mad Harry," Neville told him. "I'm just surprised that's all. Why did you choose my name?"
"Well besides Ron and Hermione you and the twins are my next best friends," Harry said and the twins beamed. "I couldn't claim to be a Weasley, everyone knows they have red hair and Hermione is a girl, so yours was the first name that popped into my head."
Neville felt happy that Harry considered him to be one of his best friends because that's how he saw Harry.
Neville smiled at him and Harry smiled back.
"So — so this bus," he went on quickly, hoping to distract Stan, "did you say it goes anywhere?"
"Yep," said Stan proudly, "anywhere you like, 'long it's on land. Can't do nuffink underwater.
"Has someone actually tried to take the bus to somewhere underwater?" Romilda asked skeptically.
"I wouldn't doubt it," Tonks said.
Ere," he said, looking suspicious again, "you did flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your wand 'and, dincha?"
"Yes," said Harry quickly. "Listen, how much would it be to get to London?"
"Eleven Sickles," said Stan, "but for firteen you get 'ot chocolate,
"Don't get hot chocolate." Those who have ridden the Knight Bus said.
"Why not?" Colin asked.
A Sixth Year Hufflepuff half-blood grimaced. "It won't stay in the cup."
Those who had never ridden in the bus looked confused at that statement.
and for fifteen you get an 'ot-water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice."
"Why would you need a toothbrush?" Wayne asked.
"Maybe someone will be on the bus all night," Leanne said.
Wayne shook his head. "The Knight Bus can get you anywhere you want to go fast, you wouldn't be on it all night."
"Maybe some people just like to freshen up," Leanne said.
"Maybe," Wayne shrugged.
Harry rummaged once more in his trunk, extracted his money bag, and shoved some gold into Stan's hand. He and Stan then lifted his trunk, with Hedwig's cage balanced on top, up the steps of the bus.
There were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls.
"That sounds awesome!" Dennis exclaimed.
"You won't be saying that in a few minutes," Ron said remembering his one trip on the bus.
A tiny wizard in a nightcap at the rear of the bus muttered, "Not now, thanks, I'm pickling some slugs" and rolled over in his sleep.
The twins and Lee snickered.
"You 'ave this one," Stan whispered, shoving Harry's trunk under the bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel.
Tonks shook her head and tried to stifle her laughter. "You should've taken one of the beds in the back, if you're sitting in the front he'll want to talk to you."
"This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville Longbottom, Ern."
Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to Harry, who nervously flattened his bangs again
"That just draws attention to your scar," Hermione pointed out.
Harry sighed. "It's a habit."
and sat down on his bed.
"Take'er away, Ern," said Stan, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernie's.
There was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment Harry found himself flat on his bed, thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus.
The muggleborns and those that had never ridden the Knight Bus exchanged looks.
Pulling himself up, Harry stared out of the dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a completely different street. Stan was watching Harry's stunned face with great enjoyment.
"He loves new customers." Tonks told them conversationally. "I think it's a game to see how many of them he can get to puke or something."
Some of the girls looked sick.
"That sounds lovely," Lavender said sarcastically.
"This is where we was before you flagged us down," he said. "Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?"
"Ar," said Ernie.
"How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?" said Harry.
"Them!" said Stan contemptuously. "Don' listen properly, do they? Don' look properly either. Never notice nuffink, they don'."
Hermione shot the book an annoyed look. "Muggles aren't stupid."
"Yes they are," Draco sneered, but lucky for him only those around him heard.
"Best go wake up Madam Marsh, Stan," said Ern. "We'll be in Abergavenny in a minute."
"That bus travels fast!" Colin exclaimed.
"Of course it does," Cormac said as he rolled his eyes. "It's magic."
Stan passed Harry's bed and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase. Harry was still looking out of the window, feeling increasingly nervous. Ernie didn't seem to have mastered the use of a steering wheel. The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn't hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cans jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed.
"How does nobody noticed that?" Justin asked. "Muggles wouldn't think an object jumping out of the way and moving back was normal."
"The bus and the objects move too fast for them to notice," Remus answered.
Stan came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green witch wrapped in a traveling cloak.
"I don't blame her," Ginny mumbled.
"'Ere you go, Madam Marsh," said Stan happily as Ern stamped on the brake and the beds slid a foot or so toward the front of the bus. Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Stan threw her bag out after her and rammed the doors shut;
"That's rude," Hannah said glaring at the book as though it was Stan.
there was another loud BANG, and they were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way.
"That sounds so weird," a first year Hufflepuff said to her friend.
Harry wouldn't have been able to sleep even if he had been traveling on a bus that didn't keep banging loudly and jumping a hundred miles at a time. His stomach churned as he fell back to wondering what was going to happen to him, and whether the Dursleys had managed to get Aunt Marge off the ceiling yet.
Ron snickered. "It would be funny if they hadn't."
Stan had unfurled a copy of the Daily Prophet and was now reading with his tongue between his teeth. A large photograph of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair blinked slowly at Harry from the front page. He looked strangely familiar.
Harry internally groaned, they're finally going to read about Sirius, and not in a good way.
"That man!" Harry said, forgetting his troubles for a moment. "He was on the Muggle news!"
Stanley turned to the front page and chuckled.
"Sirius Black," he said, nodding. "'Course 'e was on the Muggle news, Neville. Where you been?"
"Why was a wizard on the muggle news?" Colin asked.
"When someone as dangerous as Sirius Black is on the loose, the muggle Prime Minister is informed," Amelia answered.
"The muggle Prime Minister knows about magic?" Hermione asked looking interested.
"Yes," Amelia answered. "The Presidents, Prime Ministers and Royalty, all those who run countries are informed about the magic world by their countries Ministry of Magic."
Hermione made a mental note to look up the subject later.
He gave a superior sort of chuckle at the blank look on Harry's face, removed the front page, and handed it to Harry.
"You oughta read the papers more, Neville."
Harry held the paper up to the candlelight and read:
BLACK STILL AT LARGE
Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.
Fudge looked annoyed that he had to relive one of his failures.
"We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning,
"He shouldn't have been able to escape in the first place," Amelia said frowning as she remembered dealing with the fallout of his escape.
Snuffles whined and Harry ran his hands through his fur.
"and we beg the magical community to remain calm."
Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.
"Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle.
Harry couldn't resist rolling his eyes.
I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it — who'd believe him if he did?"
While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.
The younger students who hadn't known what Sirius Black had been in Azkaban for looked shocked.
Harry looked into the shadowed eyes of Sirius Black, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. Harry had never met a vampire, but he had seen pictures of them in his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, and Black, with his waxy white skin, looked just like one.
Remus stopped himself in time from laughing as he pictured the look Sirius would have on his face if he weren't in his animagus form.
"Scary-lookin' fing, inee?" said Stan, who had been watching Harry read.
"Yes." Those who remember seeing his picture on the front of the Daily Prophet said.
"He murdered thirteen people?" said Harry, handing the page back to Stan, "with one curse?"
"No," Harry said under his breath so no one could hear.
"Yep," said Stan, "in front of witnesses an' all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?"
"That is true," Hermione whispered to her best friends. "Sirius really shouldn't have confronted him in broad daylight in front of muggles."
"He had just lost his best friends Hermione," Harry told her. "You wouldn't be in your right mind if Ron and I were murdered."
Hermione flinched at the thought of them being murdered. "I guess you're right."
"Ar," said Ern darkly.
Stan swiveled in his armchair, his hands on the back, the better to look at Harry.
"Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-'Oo," he said.
Harry coughed to cover up a snort.
"What, Voldemort?" said Harry, without thinking.
Neville shook his head. "I wouldn't say the name."
"Neville's right Harry," Dean said. "Most people don't say the name; he's going to think that's weird."
"It's just a name," Harry said rubbing his scar which had started to burn.
Even Stan's pimples went white;
Harry suppressed a sigh. 'One day I'm going to get everyone to stop being so afraid of his name.'
Ern jerked the steering wheel so hard that a whole farmhouse had to jump aside to avoid the bus.
"You outta your tree?" yelped Stan. "'Choo say 'is name for?"
"Sorry," said Harry hastily. "Sorry, I — I forgot —"
Snorts rang around the hall.
"You don't forget not to say You-Know-Who's name," Seamus said shaking his head.
"Forgot!" said Stan weakly. "Blimey, my 'eart's goin' that fast…"
"So — so Black was a supporter of You-Know-Who?" Harry prompted apologetically.
"Yeah," said Stan, still rubbing his chest. "Yeah, that's right. Very close to You-Know-'Oo, they say… anyway, when little 'Arry Potter got the better of You-Know-'Oo" — Harry nervously flattened his bangs down again — "all You-Know-'Oo's supporters was tracked down, wasn't they, Ern? Most of 'em knew it was all over, wiv You-Know-'Oo gone, and they came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I 'eard he thought 'e'd be second-in-command once You-Know-'Oo 'ad taken over.
"I can't believe people were actually thick enough to believe that," Harry muttered.
"Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles an' Black took out 'is wand and 'e blasted 'alf the street apart, an' a wizard got it, an' so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way.
They had a moment of silence for the muggles that had been killed.
'Orrible, eh? An' you know what Black did then?" Stan continued in a dramatic whisper.
McGonagall pursed her lips. 'Honestly Harry having to hear about this is bad enough, but having to hear it from someone like Stan wasn't a good way for him to find out. Especially because knowing Harry he'll want to know more.'
"What?" said Harry.
"Laughed," said Stan.
"He laughed?" Hannah said shocked. "How can someone laugh at something like that?"
"He's evil Hannah," Ernie said. "He doesn't need a reason."
Harry was feeling angry, he took a deep breath. 'They'll know the truth by the end of the book.'
"Jus' stood there an' laughed. An' when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, 'e went wiv em quiet as anyfink, still laughing 'is 'ead off. 'Cos 'e's mad, inee, Ern? Inee mad?"
"He isn't mad," Hermione said quietly. "He was grief stricken."
"If he weren't when he went to Azkaban, he will be now," said Ern in his slow voice. "I'd blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind you… after what he did…"
"No one deserves dementors," Harry said shuddering as he remembered being near the foul creatures.
"They 'ad a job coverin' it up, din' they, Ern?" Stan said. "'Ole street blown up an' all them Muggles dead. What was it they said 'ad 'appened, Ern?"
"Gas explosion," grunted Ernie.
"An' now 'e's out," said Stan, examining the newspaper picture of Black's gaunt face again. "Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, 'as there, Ern?
"Actually someone did," Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione.
"Barty Crouch Jr had help though," Harry reminded him.
"He still broke out," Ron said.
Beats me 'ow 'e did it.
"I do wonder how he did it," Euan said.
"I think everyone does," Jack told him.
Frightenin', eh? Mind, I don't fancy 'is chances against them Azkaban guards, eh, Ern?"
Ernie suddenly shivered. "Talk about summat else, Stan, there' a good lad. Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles."
Fred and George snickered.
"I like that word," Fred said.
Stan put the paper away reluctantly, and Harry leaned against the window of the Knight Bus, feeling worse than ever. He couldn't help imagining what Stan might be telling his passengers in a few nights' time.
"'Ear about that 'Arry Potter? Blew up 'is aunt! We 'ad 'im 'ere on the Knight Bus, di'n't we, Ern? 'E was tryin' to run for it…"
The great hall burst out laughing.
"Seriously mate?" Dean said as he clutched his stomach.
Harry huffed. "Don't tell me that if what I did made it into the newspaper he wouldn't be talking about it."
"That's probably true," Ron said chuckling. "He'd probably tell everyone that he helped the famous Harry Potter escape from the ministry."
He, Harry, had broken wizard law just like Sirius Black.
This sentence made the hall which had finally stopped laughing break into fits of laughter once more.
"Accidental magic and murder isn't exactly the same thing," Anthony said as he tried not to laugh.
Was inflating Aunt Marge bad enough to land him in Azkaban?
"Such a pessimist," Ginny said.
Harry didn't know anything about the wizard prison, though everyone he'd ever heard speak of it did so in the same fearful tone. Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had spent two months there only last year.
Hagrid felt a shiver run up his spine.
Harry wouldn't soon forget the look of terror on Hagrid's face when he had been told where he was going, and Hagrid was one of the bravest people Harry knew.
Hagrid smiled at Harry who smiled back.
The Knight Bus rolled through the darkness, scattering bushes and wastebaskets, telephone booths and trees, and Harry lay, restless and miserable, on his feather bed. After a while, Stan remembered that Harry had paid for hot chocolate, but poured it all over Harry's pillow when the bus moved abruptly from Anglesea to Aberdeen.
"I see why you shouldn't order the hot chocolate," Colin said.
One by one, wizards and witches in dressing gowns and slippers descended from the upper floors to leave the bus. They all looked very pleased to go.
"I wonder why," Ron muttered.
Finally, Harry was the only passenger left.
"Right then, Neville," said Stan, clapping his hands, "whereabouts in London?"
"Diagon Alley," said Harry.
"Diagon Alley?" Sally-Anne said. "That would be one of the first places they'd look."
"I didn't know where else to go," Harry said. "And I needed to go to Gringotts anyways."
"Righto," said Stan. "'Old tight, then."
BANG.
They were thundering along Charing Cross Road. Harry sat up and watched buildings and benches squeezing themselves out of the Knight Bus's way. The sky was getting a little lighter. He would lie low for a couple of hours, go to Gringotts the moment it opened, then set off — where, he didn't know.
Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.
Ern slammed on the brakes and the Knight Bus skidded to a halt in front of a small and shabby-looking pub, the Leaky Cauldron, behind which lay the magical entrance to Diagon Alley.
"Thanks," Harry said to Ern.
He jumped down the steps and helped Stan lower his trunk and Hedwig's cage onto the pavement.
"Well," said Harry. "Bye then!"
But Stan wasn't paying attention. Still standing in the doorway to the bus he was goggling at the shadowy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.
"There you are, Harry," said a voice.
"Who is it?" Leanne asked.
Before Harry could turn, he felt a hand on his shoulder. At the same time, Stan shouted, "Blimey! Ern, come 'ere! Come 'ere!"
Harry looked up at the owner of the hand on his shoulder and felt a bucketful of ice cascade into his stomach — he had walked right into Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself.
"What?" Most of the people in the hall shouted.
"What are you doing there?" Several students asked.
The adults all looked at Cornelius, all having a guess as to why he was there.
"Since when does the Minister of Magic get involved in cases of under aged magic?" Ernie asked.
Fudge turned red but he didn't answer.
Stan leapt onto the pavement beside them. "What didja call Neville, Minister?" he said excitedly.
Fudge, a portly little man in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked cold and exhausted.
"Neville?" he repeated, frowning. "This is Harry Potter."
"I knew it!" Stan shouted gleefully. "Ern! Ern! Guess 'oo Neville is, Ern! 'E's 'Arry Potter! I can see 'is scar!"
"He's just now seeing the scar?" Andrew Kirke said.
"Yes," said Fudge testily, "well, I'm very glad the Knight Bus picked Harry up, but he and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now…"Fudge increased the pressure on Harry's shoulder, and Harry found himself being steered inside the pub.
A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar. It was Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord.
"You've got him, Minister!" said Tom. "Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?"
"Perhaps a pot of tea," said Fudge, who still hadn't let go of Harry.
Remus narrowed his eyes and Moody had his good eye on the book and his magical one on the minister
There was a loud scraping and puffing from behind them, and Stan and Ern appeared, carrying Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage and looking around excitedly.
"'Ow come you di'n't tell us 'oo you are, eh, Neville?" said Stan,
Many snorts were heard and eyes were rolled.
"He knows that you aren't Neville," Dean said. "So why is he still calling you that?"
Harry who was trying to stifle his laughter said, "I have no idea."
beaming at Harry, while Ernie's owlish face peered interestedly over Stan's shoulder.
Harry scowled. 'I'm not a bloody freak show.'
"And a private parlor, please, Tom," said Fudge pointedly.
"Bye," Harry said miserably to Stan and Ern as Tom beckoned Fudge toward the passage that led from the bar.
"Bye, Neville!" called Stan.
This time more snorts were heard as the adults exchanged exasperated looks.
"Oh honestly," Hermione rolled her eyes.
Fudge marched Harry along the narrow passage after Tom's lantern, and then into a small parlor. Tom clicked his fingers, a fire burst into life in the grate, and he bowed himself out of the room.
"Sit down, Harry," said Fudge, indicating a chair by the fire.
Harry sat down, feeling goose bumps rising up his arms despite the glow of the fire. Fudge took off his pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside, then hitched up the trousers of his bottle-green suit and sat down opposite Harry.
"I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry. The Minister of Magic."
Harry already knew this, of course; he had seen Fudge once before, but as he had been wearing his father's Invisibility Cloak at the time, Fudge wasn't to know that.
Fudge looked grumpy as he remembered reading about Harry and the youngest Weasley boy being there when he went to escort Hagrid to Azkaban.
Tom the innkeeper reappeared, wearing an apron over his nightshirt and bearing a tray of tea and crumpets. He placed the tray on a table between Fudge and Harry and left the parlor, closing the door behind him.
"Well, Harry," said Fudge, pouring out tea, "you've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think… but you're safe, and that's what matters."
"It is what matters," Molly agreed.
Fudge buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate toward Harry.
"Eat, Harry, you look dead on your feet. Now then… You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all.
"That sucks," Fred pouted.
"I wish she could remember it," George sighed sadly.
So that's that and no harm done."
"No harm done?" Hermione said pursing her lips and reminding everyone of McGonagall. "There certainly was harm done to Harry."
"Hermione," Harry sighed rubbing his scar again. "Please don't."
Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and looked back at the book.
Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his teacup, rather like an uncle surveying a favorite nephew.
"You liked Harry back then," Ron said rather rudely. "Yet now you think he's a psychotic liar?"
Fudge spluttered as Umbridge turned red.
"How dare you speak to the minister that way!" Umbridge said puffing herself up.
"It's the truth," Ron growled.
"Ronald!" Molly said in a warning tone.
At the same time of Molly's warning Fudge hissed, "Be quiet Delores." He knew that the boy was right, and after reading about You-Know-Who being in Hogwarts during Harry's first year he had little doubt that he was truly back.
Harry, who couldn't believe his ears, opened his mouth to speak, couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again.
"I don't blame you," Ron muttered. "I wouldn't want to talk to the git either."
"Ah, you're worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle?" said Fudge. "Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, Harry, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays."
"I wouldn't have gone to the Dursley's for those holidays anyways," Harry shrugged.
Harry unstuck his throat.
"I always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays," he said, "and I don't ever want to go back to Privet Drive."
"I don't blame you." Several people muttered.
"Now, now, I'm sure you'll feel differently once you've calmed down," said Fudge in a worried tone. "They are your family, after all, and I'm sure you are fond of each other — er — very deep down."
Almost everyone in the hall shot the minister looks of disbelief or they snorted and rolled their eyes.
"You could climb into the deepest hole in the world and you wouldn't find anything remotely like fondness on my behalf or the Dursleys," Harry said.
It didn't occur to Harry to put Fudge right. He was still waiting to hear what was going to happen to him now.
"So all that remains," said Fudge, now buttering himself a second crumpet, "is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your vacation. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and…"
Molly frowned. "You really shouldn't have left a thirteen year old all alone."
"He was fine Molly," Dumbledore assured her. "Tom was watching out for him."
Molly's frown deepened. "That doesn't make me feel any better."
"Hang on," blurted Harry. "What about my punishment?"
Fred and George burst into fake tears as everyone else looked at his as though he had three heads.
"You asked for punishment?" George demanded.
"We failed him George," Fred cried.
"First you wait for Filch to return so he can punish you," George continued to fake cry.
"And now you ask the minister for punishment," Fred 'cried' into his brothers shoulder.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
Fudge blinked. "Punishment?"
"Even Fudge thinks it's crazy," Ron muttered.
"I broke the law!" Harry said. "The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!"
The twins groaned.
"It's like you want to be punished!" George said exasperated.
"I didn't want to be punished," Harry said. "But after what happened before my second year and then threatening to expel me, me getting away with no punishment didn't make sense. If not for performing magic at least for running away from my relatives."
"Harry does have a point," Charlie said.
"Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that!" cried Fudge, waving his crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!"
"Good to know." Fred and George said grinning thinking about their Aunt Muriel floating around her house like a balloon.
"Don't even think about it," Molly said in a warning tone, as she guessed correctly what they were thinking.
But this didn't tally at all with Harry's past dealings with the Ministry of Magic.
"Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle's house!" he told Fudge, frowning.
Fudge did a double take. 'So the boy did tell me about the house elf...how did I forget that...'
"The Ministry of Magic said I'd be expelled from Hogwarts if there was any more magic there!"
Unless Harry's eyes were deceiving him, Fudge was suddenly looking awkward.
Students were shooting Fudge curious looks as he began to shift uncomfortably.
"Circumstances change, Harry… We have to take into account… in the present climate…
"Are you talking about Sirius Black?" Hannah asked.
"What does he have to do with Harry?" Justin questioned.
No one answered either of the questions since only a few people know of Harry's relationship to Sirius Black, and those who know didn't want to answer.
Surely you don't want to be expelled?"
"Of course I don't," said Harry.
"Well then, what's all the fuss about?" laughed Fudge. "Now, have a crumpet, Harry, while I go and see if Tom's got a room for you."
Fudge strode out of the parlor and Harry stared after him. There was something extremely odd going on. Why had Fudge been waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron, if not to punish him for what he'd done? And now Harry came to think of it, surely it wasn't usual for the Minister of Magic himself to get involved in matters of underage magic?
"I don't blame you for being suspicious," Ernie said. "I would be too."
Fudge came back, accompanied by Tom the innkeeper.
"Room eleven's free, Harry," said Fudge. "I think you'll be very comfortable just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand… I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're to be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me."
Harry scowled, he hates when people think they know what's best for him. He knows that at the time the minister was actually doing what he thought was best, but it still annoyed him.
"Okay," said Harry slowly, "but why?"
"Don't want to lose you again, do we?" said Fudge with a hearty laugh. "No, no… best we know where you are… I mean…"
Some of the students raised their eyebrows or looked curiously at the minister.
Fudge cleared his throat loudly and picked up his pinstriped cloak.
"Well, I'll be off, plenty to do, you know…"
"Have you had any luck with Black yet?" Harry asked.
Fudge's finger slipped on the silver fastenings of his cloak.
"What's that? Oh, you've heard - well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed… and they are angrier than I've ever seen them."
Snuffles whimpered slightly and Harry stroked his head.
Fudge shuddered slightly.
"So, I'll say good-bye."
He held out his hand and Harry, shaking it, had a sudden idea.
"Er — Minister? Can I ask you something?"
"Certainly," said Fudge with a smile.
"Well, third years at Hogwarts are allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but my aunt and uncle didn't sign the permission form. D'you think you could —?"
"He's not your guardian," Hermione said sadly. "He wouldn't be able to."
Fudge was looking uncomfortable.
Fudge sighed; he had wanted to sign the form and probably would have found a way for him to go if it wasn't for Sirius Black. Fudge shook his head.'I screwed up big time in not believing about the return of You-Know-Who.'
"Ah," he said. "No, no, I'm very sorry, Harry, but as I'm not your parent or guardian —"
"But you're the Minister of Magic," said Harry eagerly. "If you gave me permission…"
"No, I'm sorry, Harry, but rules are rules," said Fudge flatly. "Perhaps you'll be able to visit Hogsmeade next year. In fact, I think it's best if you don't… yes… well, I'll be off. Enjoy your stay, Harry."
And with a last smile and shake of Harry's hand, Fudge left the room. Tom now moved forward, beaming at Harry.
"If you'll follow me, Mr. Potter," he said, "I've already taken your things up…"
Harry followed Tom up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for him.
Inside was a very comfortable-looking bed, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of the wardrobe —
"Hedwig!" Harry gasped.
"How did she know where you were?" Stewart asked shocked.
Harry smiled. "Hedwig is very smart."
The snowy owl clicked her beak and fluttered down onto Harry's arm.
"Very smart owl you've got there," chuckled Tom. "Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there's anything you need, Mr. Potter, don't hesitate to ask."
He gave another bow and left.
Harry sat on his bed for a long time, absentmindedly stroking Hedwig. The sky outside the window was changing rapidly from deep, velvety blue to cold, steely gray and then, slowly, to pink shot with gold. Harry could hardly believe that he'd left Privet Drive only a few hours ago, that he wasn't expelled, and that he was now facing two completely Dursley-free weeks.
Harry smiled remembering how good those two weeks had been.
"It's been a very weird night, Hedwig," he yawned.
And without even removing his glasses, he slumped back onto his pillows and fell asleep.
"That's the end of this chapter," Percy said marking the page and closing the book.
"May I read next?" Daphne asked effectively shocking almost the entire hall.
"Of course Miss Greengrass," Dumbledore said with his eyes twinkling overly bright.
Percy levitated the book over to the blonde Slytherin, who opened the book to the correct page.
