The First Trial, A Crazy Idea, The Second Step

Eleven Silver Sickles.

Dewey felt a pang of heartache at the price. He hauled his trunk onto the Knight Bus waiting before him; this triple-decker vehicle served as public transport for witches and wizards, acting as a rapid intercity transit system for those in a bind.

Not everyone could Apparate, use the Floo Network, or fly on a Flying Broomstick.

There would always be someone in need of the Knight Bus.

Dewey stepped onto the first level. There weren't many witches or wizards aboard—to be precise, Dewey was the only one.

The bus had no seats, only beds, six to a floor.

Brass bedposts and pink curtains; Dewey looked at these colors with great interest.

It was a pity that he was currently Professor Lupin and could not loudly praise the "tough guy pink."

He sat down on a bed.

Stan Shunpike stood beside him, his tone light and breezy. "Oh, welcome to the Knight Bus. Where are you headed?"

"London."

Dewey spoke softly, embodying the elegance and gentleness of Professor Lupin to perfection. Shunpike replied, "Oh, London? OK, Ernie, to London."

He shouted loudly, and the driver, Ernie, muttered, "Right, no problem."

The driver of the Knight Bus was a middle-aged man with thick glasses. Dewey glanced at him once and paid him no further mind.

Shunpike showed no sign of leaving, standing to the side to strike up a conversation with Dewey.

"What's your name?"

He asked Dewey.

"Lupin."

Dewey remained soft-spoken. He spotted the newspaper by Shunpike's hand and interrupted the young man's next question, pointing at the paper. "May I see that?"

"Of course, Lupin. Very interesting paper, filled entirely with two fugitives."

He handed the Daily Prophet to Dewey. Dewey saw the two men on the front page; Sirius Black was glaring at him from the print, his hair still a tangled, messy knot. As for the other man, Dewey, he was looking left and right, appearing even less spirited than Sirius.

Seeing his own photo jumping around before his eyes felt quite peculiar.

"Two very dangerous men, aren't they?"

Shunpike snorted through his nose. "Two lunatics who escaped from Azkaban. Who knows what they'll do next?

I heard they attacked some Ministry of Magic officials in London not long ago. Truly terrifying, isn't it?

These die-hards—you have to wonder, why didn't the Ministry of Magic just let the Dementors finish them off during the initial trial?

Now that they've escaped, it just keeps everyone on edge."

Shunpike chattered on. Dewey smiled, folded the paper, and returned it to him.

"Yes, you're right."

In that brief glance just now, Dewey had seen that this yesterday's paper was filled from cover to cover with wanted notices for himself and Sirius Black.

Public interest in Sirius was clearly much higher.

A member of a Pure-blood Family, a friend of Harry Potter's parents, a figure famous since his youth.

Compared to Dewey, everyone preferred to keep their eyes on Sirius.

"Minister for Magic Fudge requests Dumbledore to apprehend the fugitives; Dumbledore politely refuses."

"The Unknown Past of Sirius Black—Rita Skeeter reveals the life and times of Sirius."

"Dewey Jones—a despicable opportunist, a cruel Death Eater, a pathetic sycophant."

"Mr. Lucius Malfoy speaks on the security loopholes of Azkaban."

The rest was just talk from various Ministry officials; Dewey had no interest in any of it.

He went along with Shunpike's words, saying, "Yes, perhaps death at the hands of a Dementor would be their best final destination."

Shunpike was delighted to have his opinion validated. He stood beside Dewey, speaking with even more enthusiasm.

In truth, he wasn't really interested in the news.

To him, these reports were just news, something very distant from his life.

Regardless, whether it was Sirius or Dewey, they wouldn't exactly attack their bus-driving duo, would they?

He was just a plain, ordinary bus conductor.

What would be the point of attacking them?

Dewey's kind face and gentle demeanor made Shunpike eager to chat. He said to "Lupin" in a practiced, familiar tone, "Well, although the fare for this trip is eleven Silver Sickles, if you pay fourteen, you get extra chocolate. If you pay fifteen, you'll also get a toothbrush and a hot water bottle—you can choose any color you like."

He rattled on, pushing the packages to Dewey. Dewey thought it over carefully and shook his head.

The chocolate made his blood boil with excitement.

But poverty forced him to tighten his belt.

I am Professor Lupin now.

Remus John Lupin, I am a kind, gentle, and well-read person; I cannot use my wand to snatch things, even if these items are clearly overpriced.

But the chocolate really is delicious.

Dewey struggled with this in his heart, but he quickly regained his senses.

"No," Dewey said, "here are eleven Silver Sickles; I don't think I really need those things."

He planned to buy some chocolate for himself once he reached London, as it would be much cheaper that way.

Spending money again, what a nuisance.

Dewey cursed his bad luck.

The salesman, Stan Shunpike, wasn't angry that he hadn't sold the bundle; it seemed his sales figures had nothing to do with his wages.

The young man was in high spirits. He looked at Dewey's face and changed the subject: "Hey, Lupin, what happened to your face?"

"I was scratched by a large dog during a field expedition," Dewey said, spreading his hands. "Have you ever seen a dog as big as a bear? I have, once. It left me with a scar I'll never forget."

Dewey chatted with him while Ernie drove the bus recklessly. The vehicle never followed traffic rules, barreling through the streets with abandon, appearing and disappearing with every hundred-foot jump!

Whether it was a streetlamp or a trash can, the bus wouldn't dodge; the obstacles had to get out of the way themselves.

Facing the massive bus, obstacles would hop and skip to avoid the unruly vehicle. According to Shunpike, they would reach London in four hours.

"But you'd better be prepared," Shunpike told Dewey. "There are always Ministry of Magic officials boarding to check the bus along the way, especially as we get closer to London. They always act as if we're carrying two Azkaban prisoners into the city. If you ask me, it's just pure paranoia, don't you think, Lupin? How could two prisoners be bold enough to take our bus to London? The people at the Ministry of Magic have nothing better to do."

Dewey nodded in agreement. Along the way, he kept track of the time, drinking a bit of Polyjuice Potion every forty-five minutes.

"What are you drinking, Lupin?" Shunpike asked curiously.

"Wine," Dewey replied. If anyone else asked, he would have called it a potion.

Night fell, and the bus came to a stop as they neared London.

A man stepped onto the bus. Lupin looked up casually and saw Mad-Eye Moody walking up.

His magical eye darted around, but Dewey remained calm and stood up.

"Moody," he said.

"Lupin?"

Mad-Eye Moody hadn't expected to see Remus Lupin here. He strode over and asked with a hint of suspicion, "What are you doing in London?"

Dewey pulled out a letter and handed it to Mad-Eye Moody.

Mad-Eye Moody opened the letter. Dewey watched him lower his head, but the magical eye remained fixed squarely on Dewey. Even while reading, his hand never loosened its grip on his wand.

Dewey's heart remained as still as an ancient well.

Mad-Eye Moody's magical eye was indeed formidable; it could see through one of the Deathly Hallows, the Invisibility Cloak, but it could not see through Polyjuice Potion. Because Dewey had transformed into Lupin from the inside out.

Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody were acquaintances who had dealt with each other before. As for whether he knew Lupin was a werewolf, Sirius didn't know, though he suspected Moody was unaware.

"Don't expect any sentiment from that man; he uses Dark Magic as often as some Death Eaters," Sirius had once said.

Mad-Eye Moody glanced at the letter. It was an appointment letter inviting Lupin to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, complete with the Hogwarts seal and Dumbledore's signature—it couldn't be faked.

"So Dumbledore went to Black Mountain to find you; that wasn't easy. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Mad-Eye Moody returned the letter to Dewey and said, "He originally wanted me for the position, but as you can see, I'm a bit busy this year."

He exchanged a few friendly words with Lupin before telling him to be on his way.

Dewey's guess had been correct: the magical eye truly couldn't detect Polyjuice Potion. Mad-Eye Moody likely didn't know the real Lupin was a werewolf, either.

After Mad-Eye Moody left, Dewey put away the appointment letter and saw Shunpike staring at him, dumbfounded.

"Lupin—no, Professor Lupin, why didn't you tell me you were going to teach at Hogwarts? I can't believe I've been chatting with a professor for so long!"

One chapter behind, will make it up later.