Emma Potter

54: The knight bus

 Pulling myself up, I stared out ofthe dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a completely different street. Stan was watching our stunned faces with great enjoyment. 

"This is where we was before you flagged us down," he said."Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?"

 "Ar," said Ernie. 

"How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?" I asked. 

"Them!" said Stan contemptuously. "Don' listen properly, dothey? Don' look properly either. Never notice nuffink, they don'." 

"Best go wake up Madam Marsh, Stan," said Ern. "We'll be inAbergavenny in a minute." 

Stan passed our bed and disappeared up a narrow woodenstaircase. I was still looking out of the window, feeling increasingly nervous. Ernie didn't seem to have mastered the use of asteering wheel. The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, butit didn't hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cansjumped out of its way as it approached and back into position onceit had passed.

 Stan came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green witchwrapped in a travelling cloak." 'Ere you go, Madam Marsh," said Stan happily as Ern stampedon the brake and the beds slid a foot or so toward the front of thebus. Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Stan threw her bag out after her and rammedthe doors shut; there was another loud BANG, and we were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way. 

I wouldn't have been able to sleep even if we had been travelling on a bus that didn't keep banging loudly and jumping a hundred miles at a time. My stomach churned as I fell back to wondering what was going to happen to us, and whether theDursleys had managed to get Aunt Marge off the ceiling yet. 

Stan had unfurled a copy of the Daily Prophet and was now reading with his tongue between his teeth. A large photograph of asunken-faced man with long, matted hair blinked slowly at Harry and me from the front page. He looked strangely familiar.

 "That man!" Harry said "He was on the Muggle news!"Oh yeah, the escaped prisoner.

 Stanley turned to the front page and chuckled."Sirius Black," he said, nodding. " 'Course 'e was on the Mugglenews, Neville, where you been?"He gave a superior sort of chuckle at the blank look on Harry'sface, removed the front page, and handed it to Harry."You oughta read the papers more, Neville."Harry held the paper up to the candlelight and I read behind his shoulder: 

BLACK STILL AT LARGE

 Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisonerever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eludingcapture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today."We are doing all we can to recapture Black,"said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, thismorning, "and we beg the magical community toremain calm."Fudge has been criticized by some members ofthe International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis."Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger toanyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I havethe Prime Minister's assurance that he will notbreathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone.And let's face it — who'd believe him if he did?"While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles useto kill each other), the magical community lives infear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, whenBlack murdered thirteen people with a single curse.

 I looked into the shadowed eyes of Sirius Black, the onlypart of the sunken face that seemed alive. I had never met avampire, but he had seen pictures of them in my Defense Againstthe Dark Arts classes, and Black, with his waxy white skin, lookedjust like one.