Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Riding the Knight Bus could certainly be called a remarkable experience.

The journey itself could not be called pleasant.

“We hope you’ll travel with us again.”

Stan Shunpike stood smiling beside the open door and waved. The Knight Bus bent like a spring, then vanished with a deafening bang.

A literal catapult start.

Pale-faced and trembling at the knees, Suer led an equally hunched Hermione to a roadside bench, where they sat with great difficulty.

Gulp.

Suer forced his rising breakfast back down and spoke through clenched teeth.

“I will never believe another word Hagrid says. He told me the Knight Bus was more comfortable than a Muggle bus.”

Hermione, equally white, remembered the bus bounding and leaping, soaring upward one moment, plunging vertically the next, then charging straight toward a building.

“Ugh…”

Acid rose into her throat.

The two rested on a bench near the Leaky Cauldron for a long time before recovering.

“Suer, how are we getting home?” Hermione asked quietly. Her face was still pale, though much improved. “I refuse to ride that roller coaster again.”

“A taxi,” Suer declared. “I will never take the Knight Bus a second time.”

Hermione approved of this plan and gave it a mental thumbs-up.

After another pause and several breaths of London’s polluted air, they felt considerably more alert and finally walked toward the nearby Leaky Cauldron.

Perhaps because it was Christmas Eve, the pub roared with conversation. The landlord hurried back and forth with trays of drinks.

“Hannah?”

Hermione stepped past Suer and tapped a girl whose hair hung loose down her back.

“What are you doing here?”

“Good morning, Hermione. Suer.”

Hannah’s hair was damp with sweat and stuck to her smooth, broad forehead. She had clearly been working for a long time.

“Didn’t I tell you?” She tilted her head. “The owner of the Leaky Cauldron is my uncle.”

Before they could speak further, Tom called from across the room.

“Hannah, take this drink to table twenty-one.”

“Coming, Uncle!”

Hannah shouted back, then turned to Suer and Hermione.

“Sorry. You’re going to Diagon Alley, aren’t you? A family has just gone into the courtyard. If you hurry, you can enter with them.”

“I have to work.”

“See you at school.”

She hurried toward the counter.

Suer and Hermione exchanged a look and shrugged together. As they passed the bar, old Tom stood sweating as he mixed drinks.

He looked no different from their first meeting.

Except that the towel on his shoulder had turned grey-white.

The two young wizards slipped through the archway before it closed.

This was their first sight of Diagon Alley at Christmas. Wizarding celebrations appeared much the same as Muggle ones.

Colourful ribbons floated overhead in defiance of gravity, glittering baubles fixed along them. Every shop had placed a decorated fir tree outside. The gentle melody of “Jingle Bells” mingled with the scent of gingerbread.

“Would you like some mulled wine?”

As they passed a shop called Colourful Confections, Suer saw a crowd gathered around a stall. A witch wearing reindeer antlers smiled as she handed each customer a small porcelain cup and a doughnut.

The layered fruit fragrance stimulated Suer’s appetite, and he swallowed.

“Children aren’t allowed to drink alcohol!” Hermione declared righteously.

Her own throat moved almost imperceptibly.

Suer noticed.

“It’s all right. Look, that wizard is giving some to his child. The alcohol evaporates while it cooks. We learned that in primary school.”

“Hm… very well,” Hermione finally agreed. “We can taste it.”

For one silver Sickle, Suer received two cups of mulled wine and two doughnuts beneath the witch’s musical wish of “Merry Christmas.”

It turned out that even when mulled wine did not taste alcoholic, wine remained wine.

Hermione’s cheeks flushed. One moment she clung sweetly to Suer’s arm; the next she bounced into the middle of the street and laughed like a madwoman.

Suer covered his face with one hand and looked at the untouched cup in the other.

Hm.

At least Hermione was not alone.

He had already seen several grown witches dancing down the street while waving unidentified objects.

There were couples kissing passionately in public as well.

Was the wizarding world always this uninhibited?

After a while, Hermione’s energy finally began to drain. Her eyes appeared to contain spinning spirals.

Ollivanders stood just ahead.

The thousand-year-old wand shop was one of their planned destinations.

Suer could use Transfiguration to create a horse shaped like a unicorn, but his magical power could not sustain it for long.

At Hogwarts, he discovered that its duration depended directly on its size. A unicorn-horse about Angel’s height lasted roughly two days before collapsing for lack of magic.

Why not perform the Transfiguration in front of Angel?

Because of the Trace.

Under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, students could not cast spells outside school. A violation brought a Ministry of Magic warning within ten minutes. A second violation caused the Ministry to order Hogwarts to expel the student and confiscate the wand.

The Trace had a serious flaw: around many adult wizards, it became ineffective. Even so, the presence of other wizards offered no absolute protection.

Casting inside Ollivanders would greatly reduce the chance of detection.

“Good morning, Mr. Ollivander.”

When Suer entered, Ollivander was sitting in an armchair, polishing a wand with silk.

“Oh, I remember you. My demanding customer.” Ollivander smiled. “Sycamore and Thestral tail hair.”

“Has something gone wrong with the wand?” he asked.

“Not at all.”

Suer helped the now-dazed Hermione onto a bench.

“The wand you sold me is wonderful.”

“Then is it your companion?” Ollivander blinked eyes as pale and round as moons. “She looks unwell.”

“Hermione took a tiny sip of mulled wine on the way here, and this happened.” Suer smiled helplessly, then looked at Ollivander with sincerity. “I would like to ask a small favour.”

“Oh?”

“I want to perform a Transfiguration in your shop. Hogwarts students cannot cast magic outside school. In truth, your shop is the best place I could imagine.”

Suer explained his request.

“I have a little sister, and before term began, I promised to prepare a gift for her.”

Ollivander studied Suer closely with his bright eyes.

Just as Suer concluded the old man would refuse, Ollivander nodded unexpectedly.

“You may, Mr. Bones. I would like to see how that wand performs in your hands.”

“Strictly speaking, the Trace rarely makes mistakes. Casting in my shop is not the safest option either. However…”

Ollivander gave a mischievous wink.

“If anyone asks, I can say I instructed you to test your magic because the wand had developed a small problem.”

“Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Ollivander.”

Suer bowed, then drew his wand.

“I will begin at once so I do not delay your Christmas.”

“You are welcome, Mr. Bones.” Ollivander smiled and nodded.

“Please begin your performance.”