"Your father… blah blah, your mother… blah blah."
There are always all kinds of scumbags in this world. They never think they've done anything wrong and treat criticizing others as their primary duty—almost as if their very existence depends on it.
However, once the human balloon floated out of the Dursley house, everyone knew: Harry Potter was about to leave.
Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge was stationed at the Leaky Cauldron. An Auror had already come to inform him of the situation, and the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes was already en route.
"Regulus Black—why are you always so eerily prophetic?"
Cornelius Fudge had once suspected that Regulus Black possessed a Time-Turner. But after careful analysis, he concluded it was unlikely. After all, Time-Turners were only used within Ravenclaw, and for thousands of years, thanks to Ravenclaw's teaching philosophy, there had never been any incidents.
The Ministry of Magic had very strict regulations on the use of Time-Turners, due to the massive disasters they had caused in the past. Even when the Dark Lord ruled the wizarding world, he had never owned one. The devices were strictly controlled by the Department of Mysteries—staffed by those of Ravenclaw descent. Besides, as the Dark Lord came from Slytherin, he had no access to them. Afterward, in his arrogant pride, he wouldn't have bothered with such equipment anyway.
At this point, it's worth bringing up the differences among the four Hogwarts houses. If a Time-Turner were to fall into the hands of any of the other three...
Slytherin—no need to elaborate. If they don't use it for evil, the Ministry should count its blessings.
Hufflepuff—average and self-preserving, but prone to well-meaning mistakes that cause real problems.
Gryffindor—allegedly brave and fearless, but often just a bunch of brainless lions. Give them a Time-Turner and someone might actually try to go back and kill the Dark Lord at his origin. And then... well, history would be one big "ha ha."
J.K. Rowling herself once wrote a story where Harry Potter's children misused a Time-Turner. Sure, it was thrilling to read, wasn't it?But the entire ordeal could barely be described as a disaster—it was far worse. Fortunately, they were the main characters of J.K. Rowling's narrative, so they inevitably managed to set history right again. What a joyous miracle… ha ha ha!
If Regulus Black had originally been a Slytherin, then his death was simply an act of stubbornness—and the foolish bravery he displayed could rival that of any Gryffindor.
But having lived through three lifetimes, Regulus Black transformed into a Ravenclaw with the aura of a Slytherin—adopting all the ideals of Ravenclaw, only darker and more twisted.
In truth, Regulus Black did possess a Time-Turner. He just never used it.
"Remember! Hogwarts once tried to approve a Time-Turner for a Gryffindor student. Can you imagine the consequences? Fortunately, that student later transferred to Ravenclaw, and the request was voided."
Muttering to himself, Cornelius Fudge stared into the distance at a streak of light—that was the Knight Bus approaching.
Harry Potter had released his Hedwig and was now dragging a suitcase alone down an empty street. He really wanted to get to the Leaky Cauldron, but it was quite a distance. Although it was still in London, without a cab, walking there would take him until sunrise.
Actually, in such situations, it was simple: just wave your wand and send out a distress signal. The Knight Bus would appear immediately, and with a ticket, you could go wherever you liked.
But Harry Potter didn't even know that—no one had ever taught him, it seemed.
Harry sat by the roadside. A wave of magical energy stirred. The playground behind him, like a ghostly gathering, came to life on its own. The nearby streetlamps flickered wildly under magical interference.
A deep sense of fear surged in Harry's chest. Something dangerous was up ahead. He almost pulled out his wand when a large black dog poked its head out of the bushes across the road, baring its teeth at him.
Hovering in the sky, Regulus Black sent out an emergency signal. The Knight Bus barreled onto the scene like a runaway stallion.
Its rear end stopped precisely in front of Harry Potter. A streetwise-looking young man pulled a card from his pocket.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus—designed specifically for witches and wizards in distress. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I'll be your conductor tonight."
After putting away the card, Stan scanned the area. "Where's the passenger?" He completely ignored the startled Harry lying on the ground—but soon spotted the young wizard.
"What are you doing lying there?"
"I fell down."
"Why did you fall down?"
"I didn't mean to fall."
"All right then! Get on—don't wait a lifetime."
One has to admit, many people in the wizarding world are a bit odd, especially when it comes to the way they speak and dress—completely lacking in order.
Harry Potter walked around the Knight Bus and glanced once more at the bushes across the road. The large black dog seemed as if it had never been there.
It wasn't until Harry got on the bus that he realized there were no seats—only three beds—and an elderly witch was snoring loudly on one of them.
Just like its appearance, the Knight Bus had three levels. In the middle section, a beautiful crystal chandelier was hanging, swaying gently and chiming melodiously as the bus moved.
Stan Shunpike didn't even ask Harry for fare; he simply printed out a ticket for him and knocked on the window of the driver's compartment.
"Let's go, Ernie!"
"Oh yeah! Let's hit the road, Ernie. Time to begin another bumpy ride."
The driver was an old man wearing glasses as thick as the bottoms of beer bottles. But it was actually a shrunken, dried-up human head hanging at the front of the bus that gave the driving instructions.
"Where to, kid?"
"The Leaky Cauldron, in London."
Stan Shunpike knocked on the window again and repeated the destination. One has to say, the Knight Bus was a major highlight in the third Harry Potter book. The bus itself involved numerous enchantments and was an even more impressive piece of alchemical engineering than the Hogwarts Express. Regulus Black had already requested the design schematics for the Knight Bus from Cornelius Fudge.
And during the ride, Harry also caught sight of Sirius Black's menacing face on the front page of the Daily Prophet, held by the ticket collector.
"Who's that? The man on the front of your Daily Prophet."
"That's Sirius Black. Don't tell me you don't know who Sirius Black is. He's a murderer—was locked up in Azkaban. The big question is: how did he escape? That's the key, isn't it? He's the first person ever to do it. And he's also a supporter of the 'Dark Lord.' I imagine you've heard of him."
Stan Shunpike didn't mind using such news to scare young wizards. It was fun—and entirely true.
The bus weaved through narrow streets, yielded to elderly ladies, squeezed and shifted its form between two double-deckers, and finally gave the back of the front vehicle a light tap when stopping in front of the Leaky Cauldron. For Harry, the whole experience was exhilarating—especially since he'd slammed into the glass twice.
As soon as the bus came to a stop, a strange hunchbacked bald man appeared. Surprisingly, he had come to pick up Harry—he was the owner of the Leaky Cauldron.
Seeing how different he looked from the past two years, it was hard to guess what he'd been through. Perhaps some kind of magical potion mishap.
"Your owl is very clever—she arrived five minutes before you did."
The Leaky Cauldron's owner greeted Harry warmly. Just then, a cough was heard—Cornelius Fudge had been waiting for quite some time.
"As Minister for Magic, I feel it is my duty to inform you, Mr. Potter! Tonight, your mother's sister landed on a chimney stack just south of Sheffield. The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes responded immediately. She's been restored, and her memory has been wiped—she'll have no recollection of what happened. So, we can safely say no harm was done. Hahahaha!"
Now that he had another chance to show off in front of Harry Potter, Cornelius Fudge was quite pleased with the arrangements made by Regulus Black.
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