Flitwick looked uneasy.
He raised a hand, then stopped and gritted his teeth. "Get down!"
Harry crouched, and Flitwick resumed waving his hand, patting him on the shoulder. "You-Know-Who's name is magical. Very powerful magic."
"Anyone who speaks his name will become known to him."
"No matter where he is, he can track them down and come kill them."
"But he's dead now. Or, well, you can consider him dead." Harry shrugged.
Flitwick shook his head. "Of course, if that were the only effect of the magic."
"In truth, his name is also a curse."
"Only people who truly aren't afraid of him are unaffected by the curse and can say his name without trouble."
"Those who fear him will only grow more afraid, and that fear will give him strength and make him more powerful."
Harry nodded, understanding. "The curse hasn't worn off yet?"
"No." Flitwick looked troubled. "I always suspected he wasn't dead, and a while ago Dumbledore told me he really wasn't."
No wonder...
Even those young wizards from Muggle families went along with calling him "You-Know-Who." Once they were afraid, they only grew more afraid.
"All right, let's stop talking about such unpleasant things." Flitwick cleared his throat. "Now I should get you on your way."
"Apparition?" Harry asked, looking forward to it.
Flitwick shook his head. "No, you're too young. We'll use a safer method."
He raised his wand.
Harry looked into the distance as an unusually lively burst of magic surged out and gathered in the air. With a deafening explosion, a brilliant light flashed—
A gaudy purple, three-story bus pulled up in front of them.
The words "Knight Bus," written in gold ink in fancy script, were emblazoned across the windshield.
A man in a purple uniform jumped down and began singing out his introduction. "Welcome aboard the Knight Bus! We're here to help any witch or wizard in trouble. Just raise your wand, and we'll take you anywhere you want to go."
"We're going to Godric's Hollow." Flitwick waved his wand. Two Galleons flew out and landed in the man's hand. "Two of us. Just the beds, please."
"How about some chocolate? Just three more Sickles." The man eagerly tried to sell them on it. "And if you pay just one more Sickle, you can get a hot-water bottle and a toothbrush..."
Flitwick declined. "No, thank you."
The man sighed, gave Flitwick twelve Silver Sickles in change, and invited them aboard.
The inside of the bus was much bigger than it looked from the outside. Six or seven beds were arranged inside, most of them empty. Aside from Harry and Flitwick, there was only one other passenger.
"Our new passengers: Professor Flitwick of Hogwarts, and the young wizard he's brought along," the conductor boasted to the driver, sounding rather pleased with himself.
That gave Harry a bad feeling.
They sat down on two adjoining beds.
"Let's get going!" the conductor cried cheerfully.
Another deafening explosion rang out. The bus bounced off like a rabbit, hurtling forward at high speed. Even Harry nearly lost his balance.
Professor Flitwick, meanwhile, rolled across his bed twice.
"This bus is really fast," Harry said, looking a little pale.
A Witcher's keen senses let him catch every bit of information that passed before his eyes and ears. None of it was useful, though; it kept washing over his mind like a raging torrent, making his scalp prickle.
And the bus kept bouncing—
Harry had to keep shifting his weight to stay upright.
Flitwick took it in stride, rolling back and forth across his bed with every sway of the bus. "Harry, don't be so tense. Relax a little."
"That's just how the Knight Bus is."
Half an hour later.
The conductor woke the other passenger. "Elgin, this is your stop."
The passenger struggled to get up, but after barely two steps, he collapsed onto his trunk. The conductor tossed him out along with his luggage.
Less than half an hour later.
The conductor smiled at the two of them. "Godric's Hollow!"
Harry took a deep breath and stood up.
The conductor looked surprised. "Unbelievable. You're the first young wizard to ride our bus and remain so calm."
"Have you ever considered working for us after you graduate?"
"We're official Ministry of Magic employees, after all."
Harry shook his head. "Thanks, but I have a question."
The conductor's expression turned serious. "Go ahead."
Harry said, "You claim the Knight Bus can go anywhere."
"That's right. If it's on land, there's nowhere we can't go." The conductor lifted his chin proudly.
Harry's face remained expressionless. "Is that so?"
"Then I'll pay you a Galleon—or ten, if you prefer—to take me into a Gringotts vault. Any vault will do. Better yet, take me to the richest one."
The conductor's face stiffened.
The driver turned around and muttered, "No, we can't do that. We can't break the law."
"Then you should change your advertisement, my dear sirs." Harry waved his wand and lifted his luggage. With Professor Flitwick beside him, he could use magic without worrying.
The conductor nodded with difficulty. "You're right. That might be a good suggestion."
Once they got off the bus.
"How about taking a break?" Flitwick suggested, looking a little pale. "There's a wizarding pub here, too."
Harry nodded. "Of course. I think I need a break, too."
The Knight Bus...
It really was a terrifying thing.
He'd rather take a sorcerer's portal ten times than ride that thing again.
Flitwick led him to the pub's back door, took out his wand, and tapped lightly before pushing the door open. Familiarity washed over them. Like the Leaky Cauldron, it was grimy but full of wizards.
"Quite a few wizards like drinking with Muggles, but most prefer to stay in our own world," Professor Flitwick explained. "What would you like? Butterbeer?"
"A glass of whisky, please," Harry said.
Flitwick called to the bar, "Two glasses of whisky."
"Where would you like to go after this?"
"Dumbledore said he hoped you'd go home for a visit—you know what I mean."
"Or would you rather look around Godric's Hollow? It's the most famous settlement of part-wizards."
"Or... go straight to the blacksmith?"
Harry was silent for a moment. "Let's go straight to the blacksmith. I'll visit home after we've taken care of everything."
They had two drinks.
Professor Flitwick looked much better. He paid, led Harry outside, and took him through a long alley into an underground passage.
They continued through the passage to the entrance of a cave, where Flitwick knocked.
A little while later, an old Goblin opened the door. When he saw Flitwick, his eyes sharpened at once. "Professor Flitwick, the greatest human wizard duelist!"
"What an unexpected visit. I thought you'd never come back to this..."
"Filthy, stinking underground."
Flitwick gave as good as he got. "Ragnuk, I'm here about the letter. My most outstanding student needs a blacksmith, so I came to you."
"Harry Potter." The old Goblin looked up, greed in his eyes. "I heard you're Gryffindor's heir. Do you also have the Sword Gryffindor stole?"
"I haven't inherited it yet," Harry replied.
It rubbed its hands together. "If you're willing to return the sword to me, I can forge whatever you want."
Flitwick exploded. "That belongs to Gryffindor! Since when was it yours?"
"My great-grandfather made it." Ragnuk lifted his chin. "Anything made by Goblins belongs to Goblins! Gryffindor kept it after he died. That despicable, shameless human..."
Harry raised his wand and pressed it against Ragnuk's head. "Maybe I need to cast a few spells to clear your head so we can talk business properly?"
Ragnuk stiffened.
"I want a skilled blacksmith to help me," Harry said quietly. "But don't try to use that to threaten me, all right? I've just gotten off that insane bus, and I'm in a terrible mood."
Ragnuk spat. "You human wizards are so despicable!"
"All right, all right."
"What kind of armor do you want made?"
Harry waved his wand. His trunk opened, and a Troll hide wrapped in a cloth bag flew out and landed in front of Ragnuk. "Troll hide. Make me a leather cuirass."
"Oh, what a terrible material," Ragnuk muttered. "Why not use Dragon Hide? That's high-quality material."
Harry's expression stayed blank. "I'm still young. You know how expensive Dragon Hide is. I don't want a piece of costly armor I can only wear for a year or two."
"Fine, Troll hide will have to do." He reluctantly agreed. "Now we'll have to discuss the price."
"Let me think..."
"You'll have to provide me with a furnace."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You're a blacksmith. Don't you have your own furnace?"
"Ah, what a shameless question." Ragnuk clapped his hands and clicked his tongue twice. "Everything belongs to you human wizards."
"We Goblins can have no more than a hideout like this underground cave."
Professor Flitwick spoke up. "I can conjure one for you..."
"No, I want a real furnace." Ragnuk sounded utterly resolute. "That's a condition. You can even pay me a few fewer Galleons."
Flitwick frowned.
Harry frowned, too.
"Young wizard, you still have room to grow. The Sword of Gryffindor is less than a meter long. You'll need a longer sword when you're older, won't you?" Ragnuk continued, his tone softening. "This benefits us both."
"It's just a furnace."
Thanks, everyone! We're number one in the category! Three updates again today!
Thanks to Su Zitian for the tip!
I'll see how much more I need to write for an extra update tonight!
Before you continue