Capítulo 40: A World-Famous Painting—Harry Potter and His Friends at the Start-of-Term Feast
Leaving the alley with Hermione and Ron, the three of them stepped onto another street. Under Hermione and Ron's puzzled gazes, Harry walked to the roadside and extended his wand into the empty air.
Facing his friends, he made an exaggerated gesture and declared, "I, Harry Potter, am honored to introduce to you—the Knight Bus."
With a deafening bang, a triple-decker bus suddenly materialized out of thin air, screeching to a halt in front of them.
"That's so cool! It's the Knight Bus!" Ron's face flushed with excitement. "I've heard my dad talk about this before. Supposedly, the Ministry of Magic repurposed a discarded Muggle double-decker bus for it. Muggles are so weird, aren't they? I mean, why would they throw away something perfectly good? It's not like it exploded or fell apart."
The bus doors swung open, revealing a young witch Harry didn't recognize leaning casually against the doorway. She had long, copper-red hair tied into a loose ponytail that draped over her shoulder, with long bangs nearly covering her right eye. She wore a brown leather jacket over an orange scarf, with what appeared to be a green shirt underneath, blue jeans, and brown ankle boots.
"Welcome aboard the Knight Bus, emergency transport for witches and wizards in distress. Just extend your wand and hop on, and we'll take you wherever you need to go. My name is Mary Jane Watson, and today, I'll be your—"
The young witch suddenly stopped, her gaze locking onto the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead. Her mouth fell open in shock. "You… you're…"
"Yes, yes, I am that Harry Potter," Harry sighed. Over the past year, he had repeated this conversation countless times—every new acquaintance seemed to go through the same reaction.
"How much for three people to Hogwarts? We missed the Hogwarts Express," Harry asked.
"Uh, let me think… fifteen Sickles per person…" The ticket witch started counting on her fingers, hesitated for a moment, then uncertainly said, "Two Galleons and ten Sickles?"
"Fifteen Sickles per person—so that should be…" Hermione did a quick mental calculation before correcting her, "Two Galleons and eleven Sickles."
"Fifteen Sickles each… Well, in that case, I think I'll find another way to get to school," Ron muttered, shrinking back and preparing to slip away. But Harry was quicker—he grabbed Ron's collar before he could escape.
"Come on, it's just fifteen Sickles. I'll cover it," Harry said, dragging Ron toward the bus. Feeling Ron's resistance, Harry added, "Don't thank me just yet. This isn't a free ride, Ron—consider it your next birthday present."
Ron hesitated—then stopped resisting.
"Thanks, Harry," he mumbled.
With that, Harry led a curious Hermione and an even more curious Ron onto the Knight Bus.
"I've always wanted to ride this," Ron said, perking up as soon as he was inside. He eagerly looked around.
The last time Harry had taken the Knight Bus, it was nighttime, and the three decks had been packed with brass bedsteads. Now, in the morning light, the bus was furnished with a haphazard collection of chairs, none of which matched, scattered randomly around the windows. Some seemed to have toppled over when the bus had made a sudden stop. Several wizards were grumbling as they picked themselves up from the floor. A spilled shopping bag lay at the far end of the bus, its contents—a mix of frog spawn, cockroaches, and custard—scattered across the floor.
Harry scanned the chaotic interior before heading straight to the railings at the back, motioning for Ron and Hermione to join him.
Hermione sat beside Harry, while Ron, eager to experience the Knight Bus's movement firsthand, chose a seat next to the ticket witch—where there were no railings to hold onto, offering the best view.
After paying two Galleons and eleven Sickles, the bus took off again. It shot straight out of the unnamed street, swerved around King's Cross Station, and then—BANG!
With an earsplitting noise, most passengers—including Ron and Crookshanks, who had been peacefully sleeping in Hermione's arms—were sent tumbling across the floor. Only a few people—including Harry and Hermione—managed to stay upright by clinging tightly to fixed objects.
Harry glanced at Ron, who was struggling to get up from the floor, shrugged, and turned to look out the window. The landscape blurred past—rolling fields flying by in a dizzying rush.
Meanwhile, Crookshanks, rudely awakened by the jolt, was now furiously swiping at Ron with his claws—Ron had accidentally landed with one hand pressing down on the cat's tail.
By the time Ron finally fended off the feline assault and tossed Crookshanks back to Hermione, settling back into his seat, the bus lurched to a sudden stop with another deafening screech.
Predictably, most passengers were once again sent flying forward.
The doors swung open, and a young man missing an arm hobbled off with his luggage.
Before anyone had the chance to sit back down, the doors shut, and with another resounding BANG, the Knight Bus jumped onto an overpass, tearing down the road at breakneck speed. Cars and lorries veered off to the sides to make way. Then—BANG!—it landed on a muddy village road; BANG!—a winding riverside path; BANG!—a gravel track with a cliff on one side and a steep drop on the other.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
By the time Ron pulled himself off the floor for what felt like the hundredth time, the excitement had completely drained from his face.
"I swear, I am never riding this blasted bus again!"
Finally, at precisely 4:06 in the afternoon, the Knight Bus screeched to a halt at the gates of Hogwarts.
"Hogwarts, here we are! Hope to see you again on the Knight Bus!" Mary Jane Watson cheerfully waved at Harry, Hermione, and the thoroughly disheveled Ron as they staggered off.
With nearly two hours until the Hogwarts Express was due to arrive, Harry suggested visiting Hagrid's hut for a snack. But Ron merely plopped himself down at the castle gates, panting heavily, insisting that he needed a moment to recover.
Soon enough, hunger won out, and Ron reluctantly followed Harry and Hermione to Hagrid's. To their dismay, however, the half-giant wasn't home.
"Well, no choice—we'll have to hunt for food," Harry said, glancing toward the Forbidden Forest, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will understand. Hunger drives people to desperate measures."
As dusk settled, the Start-of-Term Feast finally began. However, the Gryffindor students were puzzled—this year, leading the first-years through the Sorting Ceremony was not Professor McGonagall, but Professor Snape. Even stranger, McGonagall was nowhere to be seen at the staff table.
And curiously enough, neither Ron, Hermione, nor Harry was present at the Gryffindor table either…
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