Cheques

Will watched coldly as Edward wrote several bearer cheques.

Things had come to this after all, but Will saw no problem with it. Edward was scum who treated his own flesh and blood like a dog. Will had spared him only because he didn't want more trouble.

The hundreds of thousands of Pound Sterling on those cheques would cover Will's expenses until graduation. Even if he bought Potions ingredients and books in bulk, he would have plenty to spend.

Once Edward finished writing, Will hit him with Stupefy and Obliviate. Lockhart's tricks really did come in handy sometimes.

Early the next morning, Will stood at the window, gazing at the Garden behind Arundel Castle. It covered more than ten hectares, and through the falling snow, he couldn't even see where it ended. Not that it had much to do with him.

Edward had invited him to the Christmas dinner, but Edward's attitude alone told him how the rest of the Howard family would treat a bastard son like him.

Invite him in? Cut off his head? Keep him as a dog?

Aside from Hobert, hardly anyone would give him a warm welcome.

Will only intended to get through the evening. After that, he would have nothing more to do with the Howard family.

At noon, however, a regretful-looking Hobert brought Will good news.

"I'm sorry, Will. You may not be able to attend the Christmas dinner tonight..."

An important guest was coming that evening, so Will couldn't attend.

The guest was the daughter of Sir Gell, the current mayor of London, and Edward's future wife. Yes, the Howard and Gell families were arranging a marriage. A bastard son like Will had no place at such a dinner.

For Will, though, it was good news. He had achieved what he came for and had no desire to stay any longer.

"That's all right, Uncle Hobert. I understand." Will blinked up at him, making Hobert's heart ache. "Could we visit Diagon Alley before dinner, then?"

"Oh, of course, Will. Is there anything you'd like to buy? Perhaps another Broomstick?" Buying things seemed to be Hobert's way of showing affection. No wonder the ladies liked him.

"Um, Uncle Hobert, I'm actually only average in Flying Class." Will hesitated, then asked timidly, "Could we buy some books?"

"Of course." Hobert smiled. Will was a good nephew: polite, sensible, studious, and a strong student. It was a shame his elder brother had that detestable "aristocratic manner" and treated such a good child as a tool.

"Could we get there by Apparition? I'd really like to try it." Will gazed eagerly at Hobert, every inch a curious young Wizard.

Hobert looked a little uncomfortable. "Taking a young Wizard along by Apparition is dangerous. I ought to make sure you're safe."

In truth, Hobert had never learned Apparition. It was an extremely advanced form of magic, and he had only been an average student. He had never bothered to learn it afterward, either. During the wizarding war, he had returned to the Muggle world and had never felt Voldemort's shadow hanging over him.

Will didn't press the matter. Apparition wasn't a standard spell every wizard knew. He suspected Hobert might not have learned it, but he didn't ask; that was better for both of them.

So they chose another way to travel: the Knight Bus.

The Knight Bus looked much like a Muggle triple-decker bus. With its tall purple body, enormous wheels, and bright headlights, there was little about its exterior that would strike a Muggle as strange.

Inside, however, was another story.

The dried little head in the driver's cab was frightening enough. Will had read about the Headhunting Culture of South America: people there used the art of Shrunken Heads to reduce a human head to the size of an infant's, and the result was an excellent Dark Magic material. When Will had read about it, he had thought of Jack Sparrow's mother.

There were no seats inside the bus. Instead, it held single beds with brass bedposts. A bright chandelier hung in the middle, and from the first level, Will could see straight up through the other two.

A conductor in a purple uniform stood by the door, his chin pointed and his ears sticking out. "Welcome aboard the Knight Bus. This is... Hey, Howard! Where are you off to at Christmas instead of staying home? And who's the kid?"

"Enough, Shunpike. He's my nephew. Take us to the Leaky Cauldron." Hobert seemed to know the conductor fairly well. He handed him two Galleons. "I haven't got any smaller change. Keep the rest as a tip, and get Will a hot chocolate."

A ticket on the Knight Bus cost only eleven Sickles, or fourteen with a hot chocolate.

Stan Shunpike smiled at the tip and went to prepare Will's hot chocolate. Hobert led Will aboard. It was Christmas, so there were no other passengers. They sat down on two clean beds, and Hobert explained how to summon the Knight Bus.

"It's very fast. If you ever need a ride, you can call them directly. It's cheap, too: one Galleon a trip."

As Hobert spoke, Stan brought Will his hot chocolate.

"Yeah, kid. You'd better hold on tight in a moment."

"Then maybe you shouldn't give me that hot chocolate." Will knew what was coming. The drink would probably end up all over the bus.

"Don't worry, Ernie won't—" Stan Shunpike didn't get to finish.

The dried head hanging at the front suddenly shrieked as if it had lost its mind. "Drive, Ernie!"

The Knight Bus lurched into motion. With the force of its acceleration, the hot chocolate spilled from Stan Shunpike's hand, just as Will had expected.

"No!" Shunpike shouted. "Ernie! I hadn't said to go yet—"

Will reacted almost instantly. He didn't even draw the wand from his sleeve; almost by instinct, he cast with hand gestures.

"Impedimenta!"

"Scourgify!"

The hot chocolate vanished from midair. Will felt rather put out. Why did liquids keep flying at him? Last time it had been Neville's Cure for Boils; now it was hot chocolate.

"Shunpike! You nearly spilled that all over him." Hobert's face darkened. He was angry with himself, too. He hadn't protected Will in time; Will had dealt with it on his own. If the boy hadn't reacted so quickly, he would have had chocolate all over his face.

"Sorry, I'm terribly sorry." The conductor, Stan Shunpike, apologized again and again. He didn't usually make such basic mistakes, yet on Christmas Day he had nearly caused a disaster. "I'd like to make it up to you. How about a free ride?"

Knowing he was at fault, Stan offered the ride as compensation. Hobert looked at Will. "I'll let Will decide."

Stan looked at Will hopefully.

"Forget it. Let's all enjoy Christmas. As for compensation, how about a free ride sometime if I happen to have no money on me?"

"Of course!" Stan hadn't even spoken yet when the dried head hanging at the front agreed. It was the head named Ernie that had nearly caused the accident by ordering the driver to set off without warning.

Will spread his hands and said no more. Stan tactfully went over to the door and spoke to the dried head.

The Knight Bus rattled along at breakneck speed, swaying from side to side and sometimes hopping through gaps between Muggle vehicles. At times it stretched; at others, it compressed. Everything along its route sprang aside, then returned to its place once the bus had passed.

Will looked out the window and began to feel dizzy. Still, the Knight Bus was an astonishing piece of magic. He reckoned it incorporated at least a dozen kinds of spatial magic and was an advanced work of alchemy.

Come to think of it, he hadn't studied alchemy yet.

As that thought crossed his mind, the Knight Bus stopped by the roadside. Through the window, Will could see the small, grimy Leaky Cauldron.

They had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.