"What're your nas, then?"
The conductor abruptly stopped mid-sentence and looked at them suspiciously.
Sean was just about to answer when Harry Potter quickly shook his head at him.
At the mont, Harry's mind was racing with a thousand different thoughts.
No matter how you looked at it, they had just used powerful magic.
Which ant they were practically monts away from being expelled from Hogwarts.
The strange thing was—
Why hadn't the Ministry of Magic already swooped down to arrest them for violating the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery?
Could Sean's "grandfather's wand" really be that useful?
Did swapping wands sohow make it legal for underage wizards to cast spells around Muggles?
Harry had a strong feeling that definitely wasn't how it worked.
And since he didn't dare gamble on whether the Ministry might still co after them, he figured hiding their identities couldn't possibly hurt.
"My na's Neville. Neville Longbottom."
Harry answered quickly, blinking furiously at Sean.
"All right then. I'm Justin now. Justin Finch-Fletchley."
Sean understood Harry's train of thought almost instantly.
He didn't bother explaining.
After all, Minister Fudge would be doing the explaining soon enough.
"…What d'you an, 'you're Justin now'?"
Stan Shunpike pressed suspiciously.
"It ans he changed his na. Isn't that obvious?"
Harry shot back without hesitation before hurriedly climbing aboard the bus.
Up close, Harry realized Stan wasn't much older than himself—maybe eighteen or nineteen at most—with enormous flapping ears and a face sprinkled with acne.
"S-so this bus…"
Harry quickly continued, hoping to distract him.
"You said it can go anywhere?"
"Anywhere on land," Stan replied proudly.
"Can't go underwater, though. Oh—and you were the one who flagged us down, weren't you? That Mr. Justin fellow there—you stuck out your wand hand, didn't you?"
"Yeah, it was Justin…"
Harry imdiately jabbed Sean with his elbow.
"Sean—I an, Justin. You're Justin now."
Sean had already sat down and pulled out a book, apparently not even listening.
Seeing suspicion creeping back onto Stan's face, Harry hurriedly changed the subject again.
"So… how much to London?"
"Eleven Sickles," Stan said professionally.
"Fourteen if yeh want hot chocolate. Fifteen gets yeh a hot-water bottle an' a toothbrush. Any colour yeh fancy."
Harry dug through his trunk, pulled out his coin pouch, and dropped several silver Sickles into Stan's hand.
Just as he was about to tell Sean he'd paid for both of them, over a dozen silver coins suddenly floated through the air by themselves.
"Much obliged—an' here's yer chocolate—"
Stan looked left and right in confusion, unable to spot anyone holding a wand.
At last, his eyes locked onto the young wizard quietly reading nearby.
The mont Sean glanced at him, the chocolate floated neatly into Sean's hand.
"Wandless magic—! I've never learned anything like that before! I knew the professors were holding out on us!"
Stan practically shouted.
"Yeah. That's Sean for you."
Harry said proudly, as though Sean's achievents were his own.
"Hang on—you an… he's not really called Justin?"
Stan suddenly stared at Harry again.
Harry felt as though a bucket of ice water had just been dumped over his head.
Fortunately, Stan's attention no longer seed focused on the fake na.
"Sean—you said Sean, didn't you? Sean Green? That Mr. Green?"
His eyes widened.
"The one who wrote the Seven Green Compendiums? Green Notes: A History of Magic, History of Magical Occupations, Green Notes: Standardized Spellcasting—that Mr. Green?!"
"There're that many now?"
Harry let out a sigh of relief.
"Oh—right. Yeah. That's him."
"Mr. Green! rlin's beard, it's an honour to et you!"
Stan nearly scread as he rushed deeper into the bus.
"I can't believe how young you are!
"Oh, Green Notes: Standardized Spellcasting is my favourite! I learned sixteen spells from that book alone!"
Harry silently hauled his trunk aboard after him, Hedwig's cage balanced on top.
The inside of the Knight Bus had no seats at all.
Instead, six or seven brass-frad beds stood beside curtained windows. Candles flickered on small brackets beside each bed, casting warm light over the wooden walls.
Near the back of the bus, a tiny wizard wearing a nightcap mumbled in his sleep:
"No thank you… not now… I'm pickling slugs…"
Then rolled over.
Harry had no idea where he was supposed to sit, so he wandered toward the loudly excited Stan and the quietly listening Sean.
"You standardized spell pronunciations and wand movents," Stan babbled excitedly.
"You've no idea how many ridiculous pronunciations there used to be!
"Your notes compared all the different gestures and incantations side by side—comparative testing, right? That's what you called it in the book?"
"Excuse —"
Harry tried to sit down.
"Don't interrupt . That bed's yours."
Stan pointed him away without even turning around.
Harry sighed and obediently shuffled toward the assigned bed.
"Oh! And you even classified spell proficiency levels!"
Stan continued enthusiastically.
"I'm not ashad to admit I've mastered ten Apprentice-Level spells already!
"I never experienced anything like that at Hogwarts…
"You can't imagine what it ans for a dull wizard like —soone who ended up becoming a bus conductor straight after graduation—to improve so much in only six months…"
His voice started trembling emotionally.
"That's why I finally decided to apply for a job at Green's Bookshop. I heard your shop manager's a genuinely wonderful wizard…"
To Sean's surprise, Stan's eyes had actually beco moist.
"I don't even know how to thank you…
"No one ever taught us these things before. I thought the wizarding world only cared about talented witches and wizards."
For once, Sean himself looked slightly caught off guard.
"…Do you rember the dedication written at the front of Standardized Spellcasting?"
Sean asked quietly.
"How could I forget?"
Stan sniffed loudly.
"To every person who carries magic in their heart— The gates of magic stand open to every wizard willing to believe in it."
Sean smiled faintly.
"If a wizard like you read that book… then I'd say it found the right ho."
That completely broke Stan.
His eyes turned bright red.
"Oh, Sean's always like this."
Harry watched the scene while sliding his trunk beneath the bed behind the driver's chair.
The driver himself sat in a large armchair at the steering wheel.
"Evening, kid. Na's Ern Prang. I'm the driver."
Ern Prang nodded toward Harry.
He was an elderly wizard wearing enormously thick glasses.
"Drive on, Ern."
The voice ca from Sean's direction.
Stan, still wiping at his eyes, plopped himself down beside the driver.
BANG!
Another deafening crack echoed through the night—
And suddenly Harry found himself thrown backward onto the bed.
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