The Knight Bus

Old Tom was hunched over, his face lined with wrinkles and his toothless mouth sunken in. He looked as wicked as the dark wizards in Knockturn Alley.

Yet beneath that ugly exterior beat a warm heart.

Old Tom personally escorted Anton to the Leaky Cauldron's entrance, showed him how to summon the Knight Bus, then waited with him for the magical vehicle to appear with a loud bang.

He kindly patted Anton's little head. "Good luck, young wizard."

Anton pressed his lips together and bowed to him. "Thank you, Mr. Tom."

In the two months since he'd arrived in this world, he'd followed the old wizard through chaotic places and met all sorts of weird people. Those who'd shown him kindness had been few and far between.

Old Tom's wrinkled mouth spread into a smile that made him look like a grandmother. He waved and turned back toward the pub.

The Knight Bus looked much like a Muggle bus.

It had wheels and big headlights, and stood three stories tall. Through the windows, Anton saw no seats inside, only beds with brass posts and candle holders beside them.

Glancing back, he also spotted a dried little head hanging in the driver's cabin.

These little heads came from the South American headhunting tradition. They hunted their enemies and used the unique Shrunken Head Technique to shrink the heads down to the size of a baby's. The technique was very popular among British wizards; dark wizards and respectable ones alike enjoyed it.

"Welcome aboard the Knight Bus, emergency transport for witches and wizards in a tight spot. Just stick out your wand and climb aboard, and we'll take you anywhere you want to go."

A handsome young man stood by the handrail, his uniform cap sitting crookedly on his head. He grinned brightly. "My name's Stan Shunpike, and I'll be your conductor today."

The smile was so infectious that Anton found himself smiling too. "I need to go to... Hang on, let me check."

The conductor, Stan, said proudly, "Anywhere you want, as long as it's on land."

Anton pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket. "Huh, France?"

Stan blinked. "France?"

Anton hadn't expected the Goblin who could treat Lupin to be living in France. He looked at Stan. "Can I ask how much the fare is first?"

The Knight Bus wasn't cheap.

In the original story, Harry had paid eleven Silver Sickles to get from Privet Drive to the Leaky Cauldron. Given the British Wizarding World's bizarre currency system, one Gold Galleon was worth seventeen Silver Sickles.

And that was just within the country. Going abroad would probably cost several Gold Galleons!

Stan looked a little awkward. "It's not a question of the fare. France... We might not be able to go there."

Seeing Anton's puzzled look, he explained, "The Knight Bus was an idea put forward by Dugald McPhail, Minister for Magic at the time. Even now, there are some wizards in Britain who cling to tradition and oppose it. They even call it a 'Muggle-style insult.'"

Anton frowned and tightened his grip on the suitcase handle. "What do you mean?"

Stan chuckled. "The Frenchmen would never be so open-minded. They're far too old-fashioned; they haven't even proposed anything about buses."

He shrugged. "We can't go to France."

Anton looked back at the Leaky Cauldron in confusion. There was no way old Tom would have lied to him.

He handed the scrap of paper to the conductor. "Someone told me you could take me to this place."

Stan studied it carefully. "Ah, an island between the two countries. We can go there."

Grinning, he returned the paper to Anton and helped him carry his suitcase aboard. "You're in luck, kid. We usually only travel on land."

The driver in the cabin turned around. He was an older wizard with thick glasses and a bushy, neatly groomed beard. "A while back, the wizards on these little islands protested. They said, 'Our homeland's an island too, so why discriminate against us just because ours is smaller?'"

He shrugged comically. "So now we have to travel over water."

Stan chimed in, "After all, we promised we wouldn't go anywhere underwater."

Then, for some reason, the two men looked at each other and laughed.

Anton's mouth twitched. Sometimes he felt completely out of step with foreigners. He didn't find half the jokes they told funny.

He also didn't understand how wizards on the little islands around Britain protesting meant they could take him to an island in France.

Whatever. As long as they could get there.

The fare wasn't as outrageous as he'd expected: fifteen Silver Sickles.

"You can sleep in this one," Stan said quietly, leading him to an empty bed. He helped stuff the suitcase underneath it, then went back to sit in the armchair beside the driver.

Unlike the fanfiction and movie clips Anton had seen before, this bus driver wasn't skilled at driving at all. If anything, he was clumsy.

With a bang, the bus shot forward, pressing Anton back with a powerful burst of acceleration.

It hurtled along, crashing wildly onward.

At times, it even bounced along.

Everything along the way sprang up and out of its path.

Once the bus had passed, lamp posts, mailboxes, trash cans, trees, and even Muggle cars and pedestrians dropped back into their original positions.

It was almost as if space itself had been twisted.

Anton watched the distorted scenes outside with fascination. Thanks to the two months he'd spent following the mad-scientist-like old wizard, he didn't just stare in amazement at all the things wizards could do.

Trying to figure out how they worked was the one good influence the old wizard had passed on to him.

Anton even spotted a familiar place along the way.

A campsite belonging to the wandering wizards.

The bus kept hurtling past, everything around it twisting. Two dark wizards in the corner, their hoods hiding their faces, whispered to each other and didn't notice the bus passing right beside them.

Anton leaned toward the window. His face was barely a handspan away from them, and he clearly heard a few words: "...leeches can be used to extract Potions..."

The bus sometimes took detours, curving around buildings that were clearly part of an official magical department.

"Pretty amazing, huh?" Stan cackled, clearly proud of it.

Most adult wizards used Apparition or Flying Broomsticks. A large part of their clientele were bewildered young wizards, and Stan loved seeing their astonished faces. It made him especially proud.

Anton's eyes shone. "It really is. Is the bus using some kind of Charm?"

Stan's expression froze. Clearly, the young wizard had asked another question he couldn't answer. He could only put on a mysterious air. "It's an Alchemical Product from the Ministry of Magic. Heh, secret!"

Anton nodded knowingly.

He thought, If this is a Charm that can be mastered, then combined with a Flying Broomstick, wouldn't it make it incredibly easy to go anywhere?

You could even appear and disappear without a trace!

I've got to find out how it works if I ever get the chance. Maybe I can learn it!

He made a mental note of it.

The bus passed through cities, across wilderness, and over the ocean, finally reaching an island that didn't look very big.

In fact, it was tiny. One tree and a little wooden cabin took up almost the whole island.

The bus could only park halfway over the water.

Stan helped carry Anton's suitcase down. "Well, see you later, kid. If you need us, just raise your wand. The Knight Bus is at your service anytime!"

With a loud bang, the bus vanished into the thin air.