Harry slammed his fist against his bed side table, panting harshly as he sat down on his bed. I watched as his glance drifted onto the photograph perched on the cabinet, of mum and dad before they died. The photo came to life, as they laughed and danced in each other's embrace. How unaware they were of the events that would unfold shortly after.
His breathing had calmed a little, before I decided to speak. "Harry." He flinched at my disturbance of the silence, "We have to go. We'll head for the leaky cauldron and stay there for the night and figure everything out in the morning." His face was dripping with sweat as his eyes found my own.
Finally, he nodded, releasing Hedwig from his cage and grabbing his trunk that he had packed before my arrival. I grabbed my own backpack, and we made our way down the stairs. Vernon, however, was waiting at the bottom, blocking our path.
"YOU BRING HER BACK! YOU BRING HER BACK NOW AND YOU PUT HER RIGHT!" The chubby man shrieked at the top of his lungs. Harry scoffed, shaking his head, "No! She deserved what she got!"
The man shrieked, lunging at my brother, causing the both of us to draw our wands, pointing them towards his neck. He stepped back, his grunts silenced. "Keep away from us!" Harry spat venomously, as Vernon backed away in fear, clearing our path to the front door.
"You're not allowed to use magic outside of school." Vernon tested us both, causing me now to chuckle snidely. "Oh, really? And what was that out there, then?" I spoke, nudging my head in the direction of the dining room, where the evening's events had unfolded less than fifteen minutes prior. He forced a sarcastic smirk, but I could tell he was not entirely confident in the words he spoke, "They won't let you both go back now! You have nowhere to go."
Vernon's eyes met Harry's, as my brother's look of confidence faltered. I'd need to try and get word to Snape before it was too late, and we were both headed to Azkaban. "I don't care; any where's better than here." Harry spoke in reassurance, grabbing my hand as we left before another word could be muttered from the Dursley family. Something told me I wouldn't be going back to Privet Drive any time soon...
The rainstorm had stopped, as our anxiety calmed and we made our way down the dimly lit street, Marge's screams sounding in the distance as she floated towards the sky like a birthday balloon. I tried not to smirk, knowing how much danger we could both, potentially, be in if we did not seek magical protection swiftly.
All I knew, was that we needed to get to London quickly; so we made our way towards the nearest bus stop and waited for one to arrive that could take us to the station. But, would they even be open this time of night? I wasn't sure.
We took a seat on the wet pavement, deciding I no longer cared whether my dress became ruined or not. My white shoes were now grey from the amount of puddles I had stepped into, and Harry removed his coat, wrapping it around me in the cold, damp playground.
"Do you think it'll rain again?" I pouted, looking up at the black sky. Harry frowned, shaking his head, "I don't know, Em."
I took a deep and unsatisfied breath, averting my gaze back onto the playground behind us as the street lamp flickered on and off, the swings and roundabout beginning to move of their own accord. The wind picked up, causing me to pull Harry's jacket closer to my chest. The world around us turned eerie and frightening, compared to a usual, summer evening that was expected at the end of August.
Rustling emitted from the bushes on the opposite side of the road, drawing our attention from the playground. The leaves parted in a disturbance, as a large, black dog with glowing, yellow eyes appeared through the brush. We got up from the floor quickly, as I readied myself to run. Harry, however, took out his wand, aiming it at the beast.
The black wolf barked and snarled, the sound of a horn and bright beam of headlights sounding off in the distance, causing Harry to trip on the pavement. I helped him up, quickly turning back to face the bushes; whatever lurked there had vanished completely. The headlights in the distance now closing the gap between us. But for a moment, there was no vehicle attached; just a set of headlights, floating in mid air.
As soon as I had noticed the phantom lights, the outline of a triple decker, blue bus appeared from thin air and came to a halt in front of us.
A scraggly-looking, thin man stood before us at the back of the bus, who looked as though he had not washed nor shaved for weeks. His conductor uniform was dated and ripped at the seams, as he held an old bit of parchment and began to read from it.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus; emergency transport for the stranded Witch or Wizard. My name is Stanley Shunpike and I will be your conductor for this evening." He put the parchment into his pocket, his eyes finally finding our own as he looked down at us confusedly.
"Are you both just gonna stand there or are you gonna get on?" Stanley asked, impatiently tapping his foot on the bottom of the bus. Harry got up from the ground, trying to look around the bus to see if the creature was still there. I grabbed his arm, whispering into his ear, "It's gone. Let's go." I nodded towards the bus, as the conductor eyed us suspiciously.
"What' you two whispering about?" Nosy sod!
"Nothing." Harry shrugged, to the man's slight annoyance.
"Well come on then! In!" He motioned aggressively, forcing us onto the bus as he grabbed Harry's bag and we stepped onto the bus.
I had expected seats on the Knight Bus; instead, I found beds; some of which were occupied by Wizards on various floors, others were empty for us to take a seat on. We made our way towards the front of the bus and took a seat on the first bed, beside one another. The blankets looked as though they hadn't been washed in decades, and I wasn't very tired anyway. I handed my brother back his jacket, thanking him as he put it back on.
"Come on! Move on! Move on!" Stanley grumbled angrily, resuming his place at the front of the bus and right in our line of sight. He reached towards the ticket dispenser he held, printing one each, for the both of us. We accepted them both, watching as he knocked on the window that lead to the driver's compartment of the bus.
"Take her away, Ern!"
The severed head that hung from the driver's rear-view mirror sprung to life, repeating Stan's instructions. The driver suddenly awoke from his power nap, taking a bite of his sandwich and putting the vehicle in motion. I gasped, as the bus flew down the street at an unimaginable pace; almost as fast as Hagrid's bike at full speed. The beds began to move, throwing us about uncontrollably as the bus swerved in and out of the traffic in London.
"So, where is it you're both heading?" The conductor queried, as casually as possible given the speed we were travelling at. Harry glanced around confusedly, unsure if it was any of the man's business. "The Leaky Cauldon-that's in London."
The Conductor scoffed, making a snide comment about Harry's answer to the severed and shrunken head. They both made a small joke, before the head resumed instructing the Driver on where we were headed.
We rounded a corner, as Stanley began to read from the Daily Prophet, a wizard newspaper that was often delivered to students as part of their weekly mail from parents-I never received one. But I would occasionally steal Draco's for a quick read. The headline on the front detailed a man that had escaped Azkaban Prison, where Hagrid had been locked up for a brief time last year under false pretence.
The man in shackles looked deranged, as he screamed in anguish; he frightened me. "Who is that? That man?" Harry questioned, having also read the newspaper. The man eyed us confusedly, flipping over the paper to see who we were talking about.
He scoffed, as though out of some sort of disbelief that we did not know this man's identity, "Who is that!? Who is it-that is Sirius Black, that is! Now, don't tell me you haven't heard of Sirius Black!?" We both glanced at each other for a brief moment, shaking our heads in unison.
Stanley's eyes narrowed sinisterly, "He's a murderer; got himself locked up in Azkaban for it-killed twelve muggles!"
"But, how did he escape?" Harry questioned, as we were both fully aware that Azkaban prison was an impossible fortress to escape.
"Well, that's the question, isn't it!? He's the first one that's ever done it!" He leaned in closer, his vile breath projecting onto us as I tried to prevent myself from gagging. "He was a big supporter of..." Stan glanced around nervously, before finally speaking, "-You know who? Reckon you've heard of him?" He chuckled, to our dismay.
I tried not to choke at the mention of Voldemort's name, as Harry nodded and averted his gaze solemnly to the floor. "Yeah. Him I've heard of." My eyes laid back on the photo of man screaming maniacally at the camera; his black eyes bore into my own like that of a monster in a fairy tale. Harry wrapped his arm around my shoulder comfortingly, trying to reassure me that we were both safe, and headed back to Hogwarts soon...Nothing could hurt us there...