CHAPTER THREE: The Knight Bus



The mood at number four was quite cheerful when Harry returned. Uncle Vernon was surveying a piece of parchment with obvious satisfaction. At the noise of the front door shutting he looked up and asked, "What time are they coming for you?"

"I'll miss you, too" Harry thought darkly but said only "Ten O'clock out front."

Vernon harumphed at this and, as he mounted the stairs to his room, Harry could hear Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia complaining about the hour.

"Honestly, these people have no consideration."

"Do they really expect us to stay up with the boy until then?"

"I'm inclined not to but we've got to lock the door after him."

Harry shut the door and surveyed his room. Hedwig, who had been asleep in her cage woke at the sound of him returning.

"You up for a couple of deliveries?" he asked her. She hooted softly in what Harry assumed was assent. Harry quickly dashed off a note to Ron and one to Hermione saying he was going back to Hogwarts and would contact them from there. He labeled them and tied them both to Hedwig's leg.

"I'll see you at Hogwarts. Thanks." he said to the owl as she swooped out the open window. Harry watched her disappear in the distance before going to drag his school trunk out and beginning to pack it.

As it turned out the Dursley's decided to make an early night of it. At 9:30 Uncle Vernon declared they were all going to bed and told Harry he had exactly five minutes to get his "junk" out of the house and himself with it. Harry raced up stairs and retrieved Hedwig's cage and his Firebolt running them down and leaving them on the top of the front steps. He took one look at Uncle Vernon checking his watch and jangling his house keys and put on an extra burst of speed bolting up the stairs for his trunk. With some effort he managed to drag it down the stairs and over the threshold. Just as the trunk started to clear the threshold, Uncle Vernon slammed the front door. This gave the trunk an extra shove and knocked Harry down the stairs. As Harry stood up rubbing his bruised bottom he heard the unmistakable snaps and clicks of the bolt being thrown and the door being locked.

Harry snorted, 'Yeah, Uncle Vernon, I'm all broken up about leaving, too." he said under his breath.

He then turned and dragged his trunk to the wall at the edge of the front garden. He retrieved his Firebolt and Hedwig's cage, placing them atop it. As Harry regarded Hedwig's empty cage he regretted sending her on ahead. It would have been comforting to have her as company on the trip. He was not looking forward to the journey with Moody. In fact, his stomach did flip-flops just thinking about it.

He sat down on the trunk heavily preparing to wait for the arrival of the Knight Bus - and Moody. Harry's head understood perfectly well that this was the real Moody but the rest of him didn't seem to... or just didn't care. Moody was the spitting image of a man who had earned Harry's admiration and trust in order to betray him... or rather the betrayer had been the spitting image of Moody. But it didn't really matter. Every cell in his body wanted to cringe away from Moody... to attack him, or defend himself, or just run as far and fast as he could. He wanted to run from the danger, the pain, and most of all the memories.

Even thinking about Moody, let alone being in his presence, gave him a suffocating feeling, like his lungs were filling with wax and not air. He saw Cedric looking up from the ground with life-less eyes. He remembered the helplessness of being tied to the tombstone, the fear and terror at Voldemorts "resurrection;" the heart-breaking images of his parents emerging from Voldemort's wand, the terror of being chased.... Every time he had even thought of Moody this afternoon and evening the images or the relentless grip of the feelings they had inspired sprang up once again. Who needed Dementors when they had Moody?

As if on cue, Harry heard the approach of Moody's distinctive step approaching. Step, clump, step clump. He looked down at his feet at the horribly familiar gait approached him. The steps stopped just to his right, but neither of them said anything. Finally after a few moments he heard Moody settling with a sigh to sit on the garden wall.

"Sent ye' out a bit early, did they?" Moody growled.

"Yeah, they decided to have an early night." Harry said, still not looking up.

Moody snorted derisively, "Indeed."

Once again silence descended and Harry wondered desperately just how much time was left before 10:00 and the arrival of the Knight Bus. Moody shifted beside him.

"Would ye be wantin' tae talk about it?" Moody finally growled.

Harry gulped. Great, he thought, now I've offended him. At a loss for a response, Harry said nothing.

After a few more moments of silence Moody cleared his throat roughly, "I'm a little out of touch, as they say," he growled, "Generally speaking but especially after spending a year held hostage in my own damn trunk. But I'm nae so dense that I don't understand that tae your eyes I seem tae be the man who tried to kill ye." Moody paused and a few more moments passed in silence.

"Aye," Moody finally sighed, "Tis a difficult spot and I'm sorry of it, laddie. I'll nae expect anything of ye o' the journey, except tha' ye stick by until we get tae Howarts."

Harry cleared this throat, "Er, yes sir, thank you." He thought he heard a small laugh from Moody but couldn't be sure. In any case there was a sudden blinding light and the roar of an engine as the purple Knight Bus appeared, heading straight for them. Moody merely extended his wand, however, and the Bus came to a standstill.

Stan Shunpike, the pimply conductor hopped out and brightened at the sight of Harry whom he had met the summer before Harry's third year.

"Neville! Ern! It's Neville again! You remember? Harry Potter, Ern!"

Moody raised an eyebrow at this strange speech but said nothing, taking Hedwig's cage in his hand and boarding the bus. Stan helped Harry with his trunk (after Harry had carried his Firebolt onto the bus and carefully placed it on a bed - which the Bus had in place of actual seats).

The moment Harry and Stan had pulled the trunk aboard, it seemed, the driver -Ernie Prang ground the Bus into gear and lurched forward. Harry had only just got his balance when Stan slapped him hard on the back and sent him reeling forward once again.

"Neville, How've ya been?"

"Er, just fine, thank you," Harry said, faking a yawn, "But I'm so tired, I think I'll just nip off to bed. Goodnight, Stan."

Stan looked a bit disappointed, but went to join Ernie Prang up at the front of the bus.

Harry glanced at Moody as he climbed into bed. Moody had settled himself on top of the covers and was sitting up, propped against the headboard. Harry could swear his eye (the real one, not the magical one) was twinkling with amusement.

For a long time, Harry lay awake and the Bus jerked to and fro and made magical jumps from one part of Britain to another. He had resigned himself to not sleeping until he woke with a jerk to hear Stan shouting "Hogsmeade! Hogsmeade!"

Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes looking out the window to see the gray light of dawn creeping up behind the familiar mountains of the Scottish Highlands around the Wizarding town. As soon as he and Stan unloaded his trunk (Moody held Hedwig's cage and the precious Firebolt) the Knight Bus lurched away, causing several cottages to jump out of the way. Just then a carriage without a horse moved up the street and stopped next to them. Wtihout a word Moody waved his wand and the trunk and Hedwig's cage settled themselves on the luggage rack. Moody then handed Harry the Firebolt and made his awkward way into the carriage.

Harry looked at the Firebolt and thought about how long it would take him to fly up to the castle... but decided he'd better not, lest this violate the underage wizardry restriction.

"It's only a few minutes more," he told himself softly and climbed into the carriage behind Moody.