"Those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly." For Iris Potter, these words defined her whole life. Born with a natural talent for Legilim...
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Iris watched as the dog took one last look at her, locking eyes with it before it turned and ran off.
She turned around to see that the loud bang she had heard belonged, to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air.
Gold lettering over the windshield spelt The Knight Bus.
For a split second, Iris wondered if she had finally gone wacky. Then a conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night.
The doors hissed, snapping back to reveal an 18-year-old boy in a wrinkled conductor's uniform. He had a pasty face and racoon eyes. He looked like he hadn't seen the sun in years.
Wearily, he declared, "Welcome to the Knight Bus. Emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening."
He seemed to notice there was more than one person listening as he droned on and peered down at Harry, who was still laying on the ground.
"Wha' choo doin' down there?"
"Fell over."
"Wha' choo fall over for?"
"I didn't do it on purpose," he said as Iris helped him up, which was rather difficult with a cat in her arms.
Stan eyed Harry suspiciously, before nodding slowly.
"Well, come on then. Let's not wait for the grass to grow," Stan said leaning on the side of the door.
The twins hesitated, peering around the back of the bus looking for the large animal.
"Wha' choo lookin' at?" Stan questioned swinging his head around the back to look.
"Nothing," Iris said as the two turned around and went to grab their trunks.
"No no no, I've got this, you get in," Stan stated, wrapping his arms around Iris' large luggage bag.
Iris and Harry hopped on the bus and walked slowly toward the front as Stan finished getting their stuff onboard.
There were beds on wheels lining the walls, and a glass chandelier hanging from the two-story ceiling.
Iris avoided walking too close to one wizard who was grunting in his sleep. She tightened her grip on Buttercup, petting her calmingly.
"Not now... I'm pickling slugs..."
Behind the wheel was an unshaven wizard in thick glasses, staring straight ahead, armpits stained with sweat. A shrunken head dangled from the rearview mirror, muttering incessantly through the stitches that laced its mouth.
Stan walked up front next to the two Potters', "This here's Ernie, he'll be drivin' you tonight."
