The Marauders and the Prisoner of Azkaban

"Chapter Three," began Remus. "The Knight Bus."

"Ahhhh!" shrieked Peter. "No! No! Not the Knight Bus! Ahhh!"

"Wormtail, what are you yelling about?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah, why are you so scared of the Knight Bus?" said James.

"I'll tell you!" said Peter. "And I have good reason to be afraid!"

"Fine, tell us," said Sirius.

"It was a dark and stormy day," began Peter dramatically.

Remus raised an eyebrow at him.

"Okay, fine! It was a bright and sunny day!" Peter admitted. "But it sounds better when I say it was dark and stormy!"

"Well, anyway, Wormtail, don't lie in your story. It's not very interesting or good when you lie," said Remus.

"Right," Peter continued. "So it was a bright and sunny day a few years ago, and I was on the Knight Bus. And the bus was making me feel sick because whoever drives that bus doesn't drive it too well. And I was on the second level. And then they turned a corner and I...I...I fell down the stairs to the first level and smacked my head!"

"Ow," said James. "I always thought something had hit you on the head."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, but you know, that story was kind of boring," said Sirius.

"Can we find out what happens to my son now?" asked James.

"Yes," said Remus. "Chapter Three. The-"

"Don't say it!"

"-Knight Bus."

"Ahhh!"

Harry was several streets away before he collapsed onto a low wall in Magnolia Crescent, panting from the effort of dragging his trunk. He sat quite still, anger surging through him, listening to the frantic thumping of his heart.

"Ahhh!" shrieked James. "My son is having a heart attack!"

"No he's not," said Remus. "He's just really angry. And when a person is really angry their heart beats really fast. Trust me, I know."

"When have you been really angry?" asked Peter.

"When do you think?"

"Oh..."

But after ten minutes alone in the dark street, a new emotion overtook him: panic. Whichever way he looked at it, he had never been in a worse fix. He was stranded, quite alone, in the dark Muggle world, with absolutely nowhere to go.

"No! My son cannot be all alone! He has to find somewhere!" said James.

And the worst of it was, he had just done serious magic-

"Heh, what kind of 'Sirius' magic?" James teased.

"Don't start the name pun again!" Sirius told him.

"That darn serious Sirius," mocked James.

Sirius shoved him. "Stop it!"

-which meant that he was almost certainly expelled from Hogwarts. He had broken the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry so badly, he was surprised Ministry of Magic Representatives weren't swooping down on him where he sat.

Harry shivered and looked up and down Magnolia Crescent. What was going to happen to him? Would he be arrested, or would he simply be outlawed from the wizarding world?

"He can't!" said James angrily. "You can't do that to my son!"

He thought of Ron and Hermione, and his heart sank even lower. Harry was sure that criminal or not, Ron and Hermione would want to help him now, but they were both abroad, and with Hedwig gone, he had no means of contacting them.

"This is even worse!" said James. "Not only are they making my son a criminal, but now he's a lonely criminal!"

He didn't have any Muggle money, either. There was a little wizard gold in the moneybag at the bottom of his trunk, but the rest of the fortune his parents had left him was stored in a vault at Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London.

"Fortune?" asked James. "Yes! Lily and I still have a fortune for Harry, and so even though we've died, we still have enough money for him to take care of himself. Hmm...do you guys think we should tell Lily that she's going to die?"

"Maybe," said Peter.

"Well," said Remus. "If you tell Lily that she's going to die, she's most likely going to ask why. When you mention that it's because Voldemort kills you and her and that she sacrifices herself for Harry, she's going to ask who Harry is and why Voldemort killed you and her. Then she'll find out that you are going to marry her and you two will have a son named Harry. She might start laughing and regard the whole thing as a joke."

"Wow," said James. "You know her that well?"

"Er, well I'm pretty sure that's what would happen."

"I really need to start being friends with Lily. If only she'd stop slapping me..."

Unless...

He looked down at his wand, which he was still clutching in his hand. If he was already expelled (his heart was now thumping painfully fast), a bit more magic couldn't hurt. He-

Remus stopped. "Hey Prongs, look what else your son has!"

"What?"

He had the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father.

"Harry has the Invisibility Cloak? Good! I have no idea how he got it, but at least he has it!"

"Sounds like he's turning out the way you would have raised him!" said Sirius.

"Such a good mischief maker!" prided James.

What if he bewitched the trunk to make it feather-light, tied it to his broomstick, covered himself in the cloak, and flew to London? Then he could get the rest of his money out of his vault and...begin his life as an outcast. It was a horrible prospect, but he couldn't sit on this wall forever, or he'd find himself trying to explain to Muggle police why he was out in the dead of night with a trunkful of spellbooks and a broomstick.

"Oh no!" cried James. "My son is going to be an outcast! That's a bad life choice, Harry! What are you going to do now that you're an outcast? I don't want to read a book about my son being an outcast!"

Harry opened his trunk again and pushed the contents aside looking for the Invisibility Cloak- but before he had found it, he straightened up suddenly, looking around him once more.

A funny prickling on the back of his neck had made Harry feel like he was being watched-

"Oh my God!" said Peter. "He knows that we're watching him as we read this book!"

"Don't be stupid," said Sirius. "This book was already written. He can't know that we're watching him...right?"

"No, I don't think so," Remus said. "It must be something else."

- but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses.

He bent over his trunk again, but almost immediately stood up once more, his hand clenched on his wand. He had sensed rather than heard it: someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind him.

"Hmm..." said Sirius. "Prongs, do you think your son has dog senses? I mean, he sensed someone."

"Maybe Harry is an Animagus!" said James. "That'd be cool!"

"But...you know...he'd have to be registered and everything. Unless he was an unregistered Animagus..." said Remus, grinning ominously at his friends.

"Yeah!" said James.

"But I think the book would have mentioned it," Remus told them.

"I guess so."

Harry squinted at the black alleyway. If only it would move, then he'd know whether it was just a stray cat or- something else.

"Lumos," Harry muttered, and a light appeared at the end of his wand, almost dazzling him. He held it high over his head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; the garage door gleamed, and between them Harry saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes.

"Ack!" said James. "My son is going to be attacked by some sort of monster!"

Harry stepped backward. His legs hit his trunk and he tripped. His wand flew out of his hand as he flung out an arm to break his fall, and he landed, hard, in the gutter-

"Ow, that must have hurt!" said Peter.

"I know!" said Sirius. "His mind will never be the same!"

"What are you talking about?" James asked. "His brain didn't hit the gutter, his butt did!"

"Wait...oh, that gutter?" said Sirius. "You mean they weren't talking about-?"

"No, not that kind of gutter!" Remus said quickly, realizing what Sirius was talking about. "No need to say that your mind has fallen down the gutter if you're mistaking ordinary street gutters for those kind of gutters."

"You really do suck the fun out of everything."

There was a deafening BANG, and Harry threw up his hands to shield his eyes against a sudden blinding light-

With a yell, he rolled back onto the pavement, just in time.

"Yeah, because we don't want to see any road kill," said Sirius.

James glared at him.

"What?" asked Sirius innocently. "I was just saying! He could have inherited your stag-ness you know. You know, cars come and-" He put on a expression of wide-eyed dopiness. "And then they die."

"Hey, I don't do that!" James said, crossing his arms. "Since when have we come across cars during the night anyway?"

"Well...we haven't, but when we do..."

A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to halt exactly where Harry had just been lying. They belonged, as Harry saw when he raised his head, to a triple-decked, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering of the windshield spelled The Knight Bus.

"No!" said Peter.

For a split second, Harry wondered if he had been knocked silly by his fall. Then a conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve-"

The conductor stopped abruptly.

"Maybe a car is coming and he's stopped to look at it and we'll see road kill!" said Sirius.

"Padfoot!" said Remus loudly.

"Sorry, sorry..."

He had just caught sight of Harry, who was still sitting on the ground. Harry snatched up his wand again and scrambled to his feet. Close up, he saw that Stan Shunpike was only a few years older than he was, eighteen or nineteen at most, with large protruding ears and quite a few pimples.

"What were you doin' down there?" said Stan, dropping his professional matter.

"See, isn't it always like that?" said Peter. "People talk all nice to make people think that they're what they're not."

"Yeah," added Remus. "I don't fancy that too much."

"Works nice on girls though," Sirius commented. "Teachers too."

"Fell over," said Harry.

"'Choo fall over for?" sniggered Stan.

"I didn't do it on purpose," said Harry, annoyed.

"Yeah, that's right!" James said. "My son has the right to fall when he feels like it or not!"

One of the knees in his jeans was torn, and the hand he had thrown out to break his fall was bleeding. He suddenly remembered why he had fallen over and turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway between the garage and the fence. The Knight Bus's headlamps were flooding it with light, and it was empty.

"'Choo lookin' at?" said Stan.

"Hey! My son has the right to look at whatever he feels like looking at! Don't ask him why!"

"There was a big black thing," said Harry, pointing uncertainly into the gap. "Like a dog...but massive..."

He looked around at Stan, whose mouth was slightly open. With a feeling of unease, Harry saw Stan's eyes move to the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Woss that on you 'ead?" said Stan abruptly.

"Well, that's a stupid question," said James. "It could be talking about anything!"

"Yeah! There's lots of things on people's heads," said Peter.

"Like eyes," said James.

"And ears," added Sirius.

"And mouth" said James.

"And nose," said Sirius, grinning at James. James grinned back. They were obviously thinking the same thing.

"Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes!"

This sent Sirius and James into laughter, and then they stood up, and started doing the whole song with the movements.

"Head, shoulders, knees and toes

Knees and toes!

Head, shoulders, knees and toes

Knees and toes!

Eyes and ears and mouth and nose!

Head, shoulders, knees and toes

Knees and toes!"

During the singing, Remus and Peter had been rolling their eyes at each other and laughing at them.

"Well then," said Remus. "Now that you two have finally learned the names of your body parts, do you mind if I continue reading?"

"Oh, yeah, not at all."

"Go on."

"Nothing," said Harry quickly, flattening his hair over his scar. If the Ministry of Magic was looking for him, he didn't want to make it too easy for them.

"Woss your name?" Stan persisted.

"Neville Longbottom," said Harry, saying the first name that came into his head. "So- so this bus," he went on quickly, hoping to distract Stan, "did you say it goes anywhere?"

"Yep," said Stan proudly, "anywhere you like, long's it's on land. Can't do nuffink underwater. 'Ere," he said, looking suspicious again, "you did flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your wand 'and, dincha?"

"You know what, Moony," said Peter. "You sound really stupid doing that accent."

"Yeah, you do," said Sirius. "It's not a good accent for you. Don't ever do it again unless you're reading things that Stan Shunpike says."

"'Choo don't want me to speak like this ever again? Nuffink, not even one little word 'ere and there?" Remus asked, doing the accent.

"No!" said James.

"Right, okay," said Remus, laughing. "But too bad, because he's going to start talking again."

"Yes," said Harry quickly. "Listen, how much would it be to get to London?"

"Eleven Sickles," said Stan, "But for firteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice."

Peter started nodding. "Yep, don't ever speak like that in your own free will."

Harry rummaged once more in his trunk, extracted his moneybag, and shoved some gold into Stan's hand. He and Stan then lifted his trunk, with Hedwig's cage balanced on top, up the steps of the bus.

There were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass besteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. A tiny wizard in a nightcap at the rear of the bus muttered, "Not now, thanks, I'm pickling some slugs" and rolled over in his sleep.

Sirius began laughing at the wizard. "Ha, pickling slugs!"

"You 'ave this one," Stan whispered, shoving Harry's trunk under the bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel. "This is our driver, Ernie Prang."

"What?" James asked. "Ernie Prong?"

"No, Ernie Prang," said Sirius.

"This is Neville Longbottom, Ern."

Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to Harry, who nervously flattened his bangs again and sat down on his bed.

"Take 'er away, Ern," said Stan, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernie's.

There was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment Harry found himself flat on his bed, thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus.

"See, I told you it's an evil bus!" said Peter. "You're lucky that Harry is on the first level!"

Pulling himself up, Harry stared out of the dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a completely different street. Stan was watching Harry's stunned face 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.

"Wicked!" said Sirius. "He's a pirate!"

"Don't be daft, he's not a pirate, it just said he was the bus driver!" said Remus.

"He could be a pirate in his spare time," Sirius pointed out. "Like his second job. Or his," he paused for a dramatic effect, "secret identity!"

"I really think that you were the one who got smacked on the head," said Remus, shaking his head, and looking back at the book.

"No, really, it could happen! You know, like...Secret Pirate Man!"

"Secret what?"

"He's a Secret Pirate Man!"

"We should make up a theme song!" suggested James.

"Yeah!"

"How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?" said Harry.

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

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

Stan passed Harry's bed and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase.

"The staircase of doom!" added Peter.

Harry was still looking out of the window, feeling increasingly nervous. Ernie didn't seem to have mastered the use of a steering wheel. The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn't hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cans jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed.

"Oh, so that's why there hasn't been any road kill!" said Sirius.

Stan came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green witch wrapped in a traveling cloak.

"'Ere you go, Madam Marsh," said Stan happily as Ern stamped on the brake and the beds slid a foot or two toward the front of the bus.

"You see?" said Peter. "Do you see why I'm afraid?"

"Sort of," said James. "But it makes an awesome ride."

Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Stan threw he bag out after he and rammed the doors shut; there was another loud BANG, and they were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way.

Harry wouldn't have been able to sleep even if he had been traveling on a bus that didn't keep banging loudly and jumping a hundred miles at a time. His stomach churned as he fell back to wondering what was going to happen to him, and whether the Dursleys had managed to get Aunt Marge off the ceiling yet.

"I hope not," said James eagerly.

"Yeah, but Prongs, you know what that means, don't you?" asked Remus.

"What?" said James.

"It means that Harry would be in even more trouble that he already is. I mean, assuming that he's in any."

James was silent for a few seconds as he thought about this. "I hope Aunt Marge got off the ceiling!"

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

"Ergh, he sounds ugly," said Sirius.

He looked strangely familiar.

"That man!" Harry said, forgetting his troubles for a moment. "He was on the Muggle news!"

Stanley turned to the front page and chuckled.

"S- "

"-Um, guys," Remus said, interrupting himself. "Are you sure...um, do you want to take a break from reading now?"

"No," said Peter. "This book is fun. Keep reading!"

"Erm, I don't know if we should."

"Fine then, I'll read it aloud for us instead," Sirius offered.

"No, no! I...I think it's better if I just do it. So..."

Sirius Black," he said, nodding. "'Course 'e was on the Muggle news, Neville, where you been?"

"What?!" Sirius shouted. "Wait...that's ME?!"

"Erm...I think so," said Remus.

"No!" said Sirius. "I can't be...be...ugly!"

James snorted with laughter.

"Ay! You shut up! I don't see you here! Oh wait. You're dead!"

He gave a superior sort of chuckle at the blank look on Harry's face, removed the front page, and handed it to Harry.

"You oughta read the papers more, Neville."

Harry held the paper up to the candle light and read:"

But Remus didn't read on. "Are you sure you want to hear the article?" he asked them all.

"I guess so," Sirius grumbled.

BLACK STILL AT LARGE

Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today. "We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm." Fudge has been criticized by some of the members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis. "Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe 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 mental wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.

"Er...so...that's that..." said Remus mildly; not being able to believe what he had just read aloud.

"Wait, wait, stop! I've WHAT?! I KILLED people? I went to AZKABAN? I ESCAPED? I'm ON THE RUN?" Sirius yelled. "What the hell is wrong with my future self?!"

"Padfoot!" Peter gasped. "You murdered people! I can't believe you did that!"

"Shut up, ratboy!" Sirius snarled. "I don't see you as the murderer here!"

James seemed at a loss for words. He couldn't think of anything to say about the fact that his best friend became a murderer who escaped from Azkaban.

Harry looked into the shadowed eyes of Sirius Black, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. Harry had never met a vampire, but he had seen picture of them in his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, and Black, with his waxy white skin, looked just like one.

"PRONGS!" Sirius bellowed. "Your son just called me a VAMPIRE! I'm not a VAMPIRE! Go control that son of yours!"

"Well if you've noticed," said James. "I CAN'T. I'm DEAD, remember?"

"Fine...well...still!"

"Go tell Moony to make Harry behave."

"MOONY!" said Sirius. "Your friend's son just called me a VAMPIRE! Control that son of your friend's! Moony, just read the next page already!"

"Scary lookin' fing, inee?" said Stan, who had been watching Harry read.

"He murdered thirteen people?" said Harry, handing the page back to Stan. "with one curse?"

"Oh LOOK!" screeched Sirius. "Now your son is rubbing it in! Thanks a lot, Harry!"

"Yep," said Stan, "in front of witnesses an' all. Broad daylight. Big troubled it caused, dinnit, Ern?"

"Ar," said Ern darkly.

"Um," James asked Sirius quietly. "Want to make the Secret Pirate Man song?"

"No!"

"Okay. Just asking."

Stan swiveled in his armchair, his hands on the back, the better to look at Harry.

Remus stopped reading again, glancing at the next few words. "You know, I don't think we should keep reading this."

"MOONY, IF YOU DON'T KEEP READING THAT FUTURE BOOK, THEN DURING THE NEXT FULL MOON I WILL MAKE YOUR TRANSFORMATION THE WORST IT'S EVER BEEN!" Sirius yelled. "Stupid werewolves, think they can control everyone just because they turn into bloodthirsty beasts every month..."

"PADFOOT, WILL YOU SHUT UP ABOUT THAT?!" Remus suddenly roared, taking them all by surprise. "YOU THINK I NEED A REMINDER OF WHAT I COULD DO EVERY MONTH? I DON'T LIKE THINKING ABOUT THE FACT THAT I AM CAPABLE OF SEVERELY INJURING OR MURDERING SOMEONE!"

"YEAH, WELL I ALREADY DID MURDER PEOPLE, SO WHAT ARE YOU TALKING TO ME ABOUT MURDERING FOR?!" Sirius shouted.

"ALWAYS WITH THE WEREWOLF STUFF! THE WEREWOLF JOKES, THE WEREWOLF COMMENTS! CAN'T YOU EVER STOP MAKING SNIDE ANNOTATIONS ABOUT THAT?!"

"I TURN OUT TO BE THIS MURDERER, AND ALL YOU THINK ABOUT IS YOU, YOU, YOU! DO YOU EVEN CARE THAT I'M A MURDERER NOW? NO, YOU DON'T! ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS YOU AND YOUR STUPID WEREWOLF SELF!"

"Guys, GUYS!" James yelled at them. "Will you shut up and stop arguing?!"

"Prongs, he doesn't stop making comments about my condition! He thinks it's some huge, hilarious joke!" said Remus stiffly.

"Well, Moony thinks that it's just some walk in the park about my future! Does he care that his friend is this murderer? No!" said Sirius angrily.

"Children..." said Peter.

"I'm not a child!" said Sirius. "I'm a MURDERER, Wormtail, MURDERER! As Moony is only too kind to not care about!"

"I don't even qualify as a child!" said Remus. "Half the time I get shunted over into the 'Beast' Classification!"

"Moony!" said James, picking up the book from the ground and throwing the book at him. "Now sit down and read! Padfoot, sit down and shut up!"

Sirius only sat down because James was one of the only people for whom he would obey. Remus sat down because he really didn't want to start talking about himself being a werewolf.

"Okay then," said James. "Now, since we're all GOOD, APPRECIATIVE, FRIENDS, you two are going to apologize."

"What is this, pre-school?" Sirius rolled his eyes. "Murderers don't do well in pre-school."

Sirius was still very uptight about the murderer thing, but Remus figured he might as well try and let the werewolf comments go and forgive him. It wasn't like he had found out that he himself was a murderer. He wasn't even in the story.

Not yet, anyway.

"Sorry, Padfoot," said Remus. "But will you just stop it with the werewolf comments?"

"Well, I guess I might as well do one decent thing before I murder a bunch of people," said Sirius. "Sorry, Moony."

"Now..." said Peter slowly. "Can we start reading again?"

"Yeah," said Remus.

"Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-Who," he said.

"I'm a WHAT?!"

"What, Voldemort?" said Harry, without thinking.

"What?!" said James. "First, he kills Lily and me, and then he has to go and terrorize the whole wizarding world! Now... he hasn't done anything yet to us, but... well... we all have heard of him, and if he's doing anything else mess up my son's life... then..." He shook his head; unable to figure out whatever he was going to end his sentence with.

Even Stan's pimples went white; Ern jerked the steering wheel so hard that a whole farmhouse had to jump aside to avoid the bus.

"You outta your tree?" yelped Stan. "'Choo say 'is name for?"

"Sorry," said Harry hastily. "Sorry, I- I forgot-"

"Forgot!" said Stan weakly. "Blimey, my 'earts goin' that fast..."

"So- so Black was a supporter of You-Know-Who?" Harry prompted apologetically.

Sirius grumbled irritably.

"Yeah," said Stan, still rubbing his chest. "Yeah, that's right. Very close to You-Know-'Oo, they say. Anyway, when little 'Arry Potter got the better of You-Know-'Oo-"

Harry nervously flattened his bangs down again.

"-all You-Know-'Oo's supporters was tracked down, wasn't they, Ern? Most of 'em knew it was all over, wiv You-Know-'Oo gone, and they came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I 'eard he thought 'e'd be second-in-command once You-Know-'Oo 'ad taken over."

Peter gasped, Remus made a nervous face as he looked at the next few sentences he had to read, and James looked tentatively over at Sirius, who was oddly quiet.

"Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles an' Black took out 'is wand and 'e blasted 'alf the street apart, an' a wizard got it, an' so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. 'Orrible, eh? An' you know what Black did then?" Stan continued in a dramatic whisper.

Sirius was now staring wide-eyed at the book.

"Laughed," said Stan. "Jus' stood there an' laughed. An' when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, 'e went wiv 'em quiet as anyfink, still laughing 'is 'ead off. 'Cos 'e's mad, inee, Ern? Inee mad?"

"If he weren't when he went to Azkaban, he will be now," said Ern in his slow voice. "I'd blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind you...after what he did..."

Now, Sirius was staring at the book in a sort of horrified trance.

"They 'ad a job coverin' it up, din' they, Ern?" Stan said. "'Ole street blown up an' all them Muggles dead. What was it they said 'ad 'appened, Ern?"

"Gas explosion," grunted Ernie.

"An' now 'e's out," said Stan, examining the newspaper picture of Black's gaunt face again. "Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, 'as there, Ern? Beats me 'ow 'e did it. Frightenin', eh? Mind, I don't fancy 'is chances against them Azkaban guards, eh, Ern?"

Ernie suddenly shivered.

"Talk about summat else, Stan, there's a good lad. Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles."

Stan put the paper away reluctantly, and Harry leaned against the window of the Knight Bus, feeling worse than ever.

Remus stopped reading and looked up from the book. "So...Padfoot...seems like that's it..."

"I don't believe it," said Peter.

Sirius didn't say anything. His face was frozen in a horrified look at the book.

"Um, Padfoot, are you okay?" James asked.

Sirius suddenly began laughing oddly.

"Me? Oh, yeah, I'm fine! Heh heh heh. Don't worry yourself, Prongs. I'm great! Moony, could you just hold off on your reading for a second? I'll be right back..." Sirius stood up and walked to the door, exited, and shut the door behind him.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!"

A second later, the door reopened, and Sirius came back in, smiling unnaturally. "All good! So, Moony, where were we again?"

There was a moment of tense silence between Remus, James and Peter as they all looked at each other, worried for Sirius' sanity.

"Padfoot, are you sure you'll be okay?" James asked again.

"Yes, great! Peachy! Now read on, read on!"

He couldn't help imagining what Stan might be telling his passengers in a few nights' time.

"'Ear about that 'Arry Potter? Blew up 'is aunt! We 'ad 'im 'ere on the Knight Bus, di'n't we, Ern? 'E was tryin' to run for it..."

He, Harry, had broken wizard law just like Sirius Black."

Remus glanced up at Sirius to see if he would start yelling again, but Sirius did not. He just sat there with some broad grin on his face.

Was inflating Aunt Marge bad enough to land him in Azkaban? Harry didn't know anything about the wizard prison, thought everyone he'd ever heard speak of it did so in the same fearful tone. Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had spent two months there only last year. Harry wouldn't soon forget the look of terror on Hagrid's face when he had been told where he was going, and Hagrid was one of the bravest people Harry knew.

The Knight Bus rolled through the darkness, scattering bushes and wastebaskets, telephone booths and trees, and Harry lay, restless and miserable, on his feather bed. After a while, Stan remembered that Harry had paid for hot chocolate, but poured it all over Harry's pillow when the bus moved abruptly from Anglesea to Aberdeen.

Remus tutted. "What a waste of chocolate..."

One by one, wizards and witches in dressing gowns and slippers descended from the upper floors to leave the bus. They all looked very pleased to go.

"Isn't everyone who gets off that bus happy?" Peter said.

"Finally, Harry was the only passenger left.

Right then, Neville," said Stan, clapping his hands, "where abouts in London?"

"Diagon Alley," said Harry.

"Righto," said Stan. "'Old tight, then..."

BANG

They were thundering along Charing Cross Road. Harry sat up and watched buildings and benches squeezing themselves out of the Knight Bus's way. The sky was getting a little lighter. He would lie low for a couple of hours, go to Gringotts the moment it opened, then set off- where, he didn't know.

"No, son, don't do it!" said James. "This is your dead- I mean, Not-Yet-Dead father speaking, and I say: don't become an outcast! You should've gone to Ron's house or something! Don't be such an idiot, son!"

Ern slammed on the brakes and the Knight Bus skidded to a halt in front of a small and shabby-looking pub, the Leaky Cauldron, behind which lay the magical entrance to Diagon Alley.

"Thanks," Harry said to Ern.

He jumped down the steps and helped Stan lower his trunk and Hedwig's cage onto the pavement.

"Well," said Harry. "'Bye then!"

"No, my son. No, no, no!" said James. "Don't become an outcast! What kind of father will I be then?"

"A dead one?" Peter suggested.

"Son...son...no..."

But Stan wasn't paying attention. Still standing in the doorway to the bus, he was goggling at the shadowy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

"There you are Harry," said a voice.

Before Harry could turn, he felt a hand on his shoulder. At the same time, Stan shouted, "Blimey! Ern, come 'ere! Come 'ere!"

Harry looked up at the owner of the hand on his shoulder and felt a bucketful of ice cascade into his stomach- he had walked right into Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself.

Peter snorted and laughed.

"What do you think is so funny?!" James demanded of Peter. "You think it's funny that my son is going to be arrested now?!"

"No," said Peter. "I just think his name is funny. Fudge, I mean. Not Harry."

Stan leapt onto the pavement beside them.

"What didja call Neville, Minister?" he said excitedly.

Fudge, a portly little man in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked cold and exhausted.

"Neville?" he repeated, frowning. "This is Harry Potter."

"I knew it!" Stan shouted gleefully. "Ern! Ern! Guess 'oo Neville is, Ern! 'E's 'Arry Potter! I can see 'is scar!"

"Yes," said Fudge testily, "well, I'm very glad the Knight Bus picked Harry up, but he and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now..."

"No, Fudge!" said James. "I don't care how fudge-y you are! You can NOT arrest my son for blowing up his aunt who rightfully deserves to be blown up!"

Fudge increased the pressure on Harry's shoulder, and Harry found himself being steered inside the pub. A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar. It was Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord.

"You've got him, Minister!" said Tom. "Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?"

"What?!" James said. "Now you're going to get drunk?! Or try and make my son get drunk?!" He gasped. "Harry does NOT drink! He better not have!"

"Perhaps a pot of tea," said Fudge, who still hadn't let go of Harry.

"That's better," said James.

There was a loud scraping and puffing from behind them, and Stan and Ern appeared, carrying Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage and looking around excitedly.

"'Ow come you di'n't tell us 'oo you are, eh, Neville?" said Stan, beaming at Harry, while Ernie's owlish face peered interestedly over Stan's shoulder.

"And a private parlor, please, Tom," said Fudge pointedly.

"'Bye," Harry said miserably to Stan and Ern as Tom beckoned Fudge toward the passage that led from the bar.

"'Bye, Neville!" called Stan.

"Are they leaving now?" asked Sirius.

Remus glanced down the page. "Yep."

"Good. Because that accent is horrible. I never, ever want to hear it again."

Fudge marched Harry along the narrow passage after Tom's lantern, and then into a small parlor. Tom clicked his fingers, a fire burst into life in the grate, and he bowed himself out of the room.

"Sit down, Harry," said Fudge, indicating a chair by the fire.

Harry sat down, feeling goose bumps rising up his arms despite the glow of the fire. Fudge took off his pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside, then hitched up the trousers of his bottle-green suit and sat down opposite Harry.

"I can't look, I can't look!" said James, covering his eyes.

"You can't see it, anyway!" Remus said.

"Whoops...yeah..."

"I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry. The Minister of Magic."

Harry already knew this, of course; he had seen Fudge once before, but as he had been wearing his father's Invisibility Cloak at the time, Fudge wasn't to know that.

"Harry was wearing my cloak again?" James said. "Wonder why...oh well, who cares?"

Tom the innkeeper reappeared, wearing an apron over his nightshirt and bearing a tray of tea and crumpets. He placed the tray on a table between Fudge and Harry and left the parlor, closing the door behind him.

"Well, Harry," said Fudge, pouring out tea, "you've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think...but you're safe, and that's what matters."

"What?!" James asked. "What did you think, what?"

Fudge buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate toward Harry.

"Eat, Harry, you look dead on your feet. Now then...You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done."

"Darn it. I mean," Sirius added as James looked at him, "Hooray."

Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his teacup, rather like an uncle surveying his favorite nephew.

"As if I'd ever let you be his uncle!" said James. "You're going to arrest my son now, aren't you?"

Harry, who couldn't believe his ears, opened his mouth to speak, couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again.

"Ah, you're worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle?" said Fudge. "Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays."

Harry unstuck his throat.

"I always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays," he said, "and I don't ever want to go back to Privet Drive."

"Now, now, I'm sure you'll feel differently once you've calmed down," said Fudge in a worried tone. "They are your family, after all, and I'm sure you are fond of each other- er- very deep down."

James started laughing. "Yeah, very deep down! So deep, that by the time you've finished digging to find it, Harry's grandchildren will be dead!"

"By a great big murderer?" Sirius said tonelessly.

"Oh...Padfoot, I didn't mean it like that! You know what I meant!"

It didn't occur to Harry to put Fudge right. He was still waiting to hear what was going to happen to him now.

"So all that remains," said Fudge, now buttering himself a second crumpet, "is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your vacation. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and-"

"Hang on!" said James. "What about his punishment?"

Remus glanced at the next line. "Whoa, Prongs, that's quite freaky. Your son just said the exact same thing."

"Really?"

"Yes, see here." Remus continued reading.

"Hang on," blurted Harry. "What about my punishment?"

Fudge blinked.

"Punishment?"

"Yeah!" James said. "He broke the law! That law they have about performing magic underage! The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!"

"I broke the law!" Harry said. "The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!"

"Wow," said Peter. "You really are scaring us! You and Harry really do have that father-son thing going on!"

"Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that!" cried Fudge, waving his crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!"

But this didn't tally at all with Harry's past dealings with the Ministry of Magic.

"Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle's house!" he told Fudge, frowning. "The Ministry of Magic said I'd be expelled from Hogwarts if there was any more magic there!"

"What?!" said James. "What was a house-elf doing in the house?"

"Cleaning?" Peter suggested.

"Don't be stupid, it's not Harry's house-elf!" said James. "But if it was...ooh, just think how much fun we could have! I mean, how much fun he could have!"

Unless Harry's eyes were deceiving him, Fudge was suddenly looking awkward.

"Circumstances change, Harry...We have to take into account...in the present climate...Surely you don't want to be expelled?"

"Of course I don't," said Harry.

"Well then, what's all the fuss about?" laughed Fudge. "Now, have a crumpet, Harry, while I go and see if Tom's got a room for you."

"What if Harry doesn't want a crumpet, eh?" said James. "What if he doesn't like crumpets? You told him three times, and he doesn't want one!"

Fudge strode out of the parlor and Harry stared after him. There was something extremely odd going on.

"Of course," said Peter.

"There always is," said James.

"That's life," said Remus.

Sirius didn't say anything.

Why had Fudge been waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron, if not to punish him for what he'd done?

"Because he wanted to force him into eating crumpets, that's why!" James answered.

And now Harry came to think of it, surely it wasn't usual for the Minister of Magic himself to get involved in matters of underage magic?

Fudge came back, accompanied by Tom the innkeeper.

"Room eleven's free, Harry," said Fudge. "I think you'll be very comfortable. Just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand...I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're to be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me."

"Ay, who are you to order my son?" James said.

"Okay," said Harry slowly, "but why-?"

"Don't want to lose you again, do we?" said Fudge with a hearty laugh. "No, no...best we know where you are...I mean..."

"What are you talking about?" James asked.

Fudge cleared his throat loudly and picked up his pinstriped cloak.

"Well, I'll be off, plenty to do, you know..."

"Have you had any luck with Black yet?" Harry asked."

Sirius spoke for the first time in minutes, losing his bright, happy grin.

"Had to bring it up again, didn't he?" he said. "Can't your son leave me alone?!"

"What's that? Oh, you're heard- well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed...and they are angrier than I've ever seen them."

"NO!" yelled Sirius. "NOT THE DEMENTORS!"

Fudge shuddered slightly.

"So, I'll say good-bye."

He held out his hand and Harry, shaking it, had a sudden idea.

"Er- Minister? Can I ask you something?"

"Certainly," said Fudge with a smile.

"Well, third years at Hogwarts are allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but my aunt and uncle didn't sign my permission form. D'you think you could-?"

Fudge was looking uncomfortable.

"Ah," he said. "No, no, I'm very sorry, Harry, but as I'm not your parent or guardian-"

"But you're the Minister of Magic," said Harry eagerly. "If you gave me permission-"

"No, I'm sorry, Harry, but rules are rules," said Fudge flatly. "Perhaps you'll be able to visit Hogsmeade next year."

"But- but-!" James stuttered. "Harry has to go to Hogsmeade! How else will he follow in the footsteps of his father?"

"Erm, would that be a good thing?" Remus asked.

"Well of course it would be a good thing! I am James Potter, after all!"

"In fact, I think it's best if you don't...yes...well, I'll be off. Enjoy your stay, Harry."

And with a last smile and shake of Harry's hand, Fudge left the room. Tom now moved forward, beaming at Harry.

"If you'll follow me, Mr. Potter," he said, "I've already taken your things up..."

Harry followed Tom up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for him.

Inside was a very comfortable-looking bed, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of the wardrobe-

"Hedwig!" Harry gasped.

The snowy owl clicked her beak and fluttered down onto Harry's arm.

"Excellent owl, my son has!" said James. "She'll protect my son!"

Peter stifled his laughter.

"Very smart owl you've got there," chuckled Tom. "Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there's anything you need, Mr. Potter, don't hesitate to ask."

He gave another bow and left.

Harry sat on his bed for a long time, absentmindedly stroking Hedwig. The sky outside the window was changing rapidly from deep, velvety blue to cold, steely gray and then, slowly, to pink shot with gold. Harry could hardly believe that he'd left Privet Drive only a few hours ago, that he wasn't expelled, and that he was now facing two completely Dursley-free weeks.

"It's been a very weird night, Hedwig," he yawned.

"That's quite an understatement compared to our day," Remus added.

And without even removing his glasses, he slumped back onto his pillows and fell asleep.

"Well...that was Chapter Three," said Remus. "Erm...nice, wasn't it?"

"Oh yeah, real nice," said Sirius sarcastically. "It's real nice finding out that you're a murderer!"

"Well...try and look on the bright side!" said James.

"What's that?" Sirius asked.

"Maybe you murdered people that we all hate, anyway! Like Snivellus, and Lucius Malfoy, and your relatives...it might not be that bad!"

"Yeah!" said Peter.

Remus thought that this possibility was very unlikely, and had a feeling James and Peter had the same feeling, but nevertheless, he went along with them, trying to cheer Sirius up. "Yes, come on, we'll still be your friends in the future."

"Except for me, who's dead," James grumbled. "But I will still be your friend from the dead!"

"Hmm...maybe you're right," said Sirius, starting to grin. "Maybe it isn't as bad as the book is making it seem..."

And so, Sirius in a better mood, Remus got ready to read Chapter Four, and James, Sirius and Peter eagerly listened, thinking that maybe things would all get better in the next chapter.

Were they ever wrong.