"What are your names?"
The conductor suddenly broke off and asked.
Sean was just about to answer when Harry started shaking his head hard at him.
Harry had ten thousand thoughts running through his head right then.
No matter how you looked at it, they had just used serious magic, which practically meant they were about to be expelled from Hogwarts.
The only strange thing was that they had so blatantly violated the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, and yet no one from the Ministry had come charging in to arrest them.
Was Sean's "grandfather's wand" really that useful?
Swap out the wand and suddenly the Ministry let them cast spells on Muggles?
Harry had a strong feeling that wasn't how it worked.
He didn't dare gamble on whether the Ministry might still come after them, so staying under fake names definitely didn't seem like a bad idea.
"My name's Neville. Neville Longbottom."
Harry said, blinking furiously at Sean.
"All right, then I'm Justin now. Justin Finley."
It took Sean only a second to guess what Harry was thinking.
He didn't explain. The Minister for Magic would explain it for them soon enough.
"What do you mean, 'you're Justin now'?"
Stan asked stubbornly.
"It means I changed my name. Is that hard to understand?"
Harry shot back without thinking, then hurried onto the bus.
Up close, he realized Stan Shunpike wasn't much older than he was—maybe eighteen or nineteen at most—with huge sticky-out ears and a face dotted with pimples.
"So then… this bus,"
Harry pressed on quickly, hoping to distract Stan,
"you said it can go anywhere?"
"That's right,"
Stan said smugly.
"Anywhere you want, long as it's on land. Won't do underwater, mind. By the way—"
His face turned suspicious again.
"You were the one who flagged us down, weren't you? That Mr. Justin there—you held out your wand, didn't you?"
"Yeah, it was Justin—
Sean, you're Justin now."
Harry jabbed him immediately. Sean had just sat down and taken out a book, as if he hadn't even heard Stan calling him.
Seeing suspicion rising again on Stan's face, Harry hurriedly added,
"So how much does it cost to get to London?"
"Eleven Sickles,"
Stan said in a businesslike tone.
"Fourteen if you want hot chocolate, fifteen if you want a hot-water bottle and a toothbrush. Any color you like."
Harry dug through his trunk, yanked out his money pouch, and stuffed a few silver coins into Stan's hand.
He was just about to tell Sean he'd paid for both of them when a dozen or so silver Sickles floated over.
"Much obliged—here's your chocolate—"
Stan looked left and right but couldn't see anyone holding a wand.
In the end, his gaze landed on the little wizard already reading quietly.
The moment Sean glanced at him, the chocolate floated over.
"Wandless magic—I've never even learned that—I knew the professors were still holding something back!"
Stan yelped.
"Yeah, well, that's Sean."
Harry said, sounding proud.
"Hang on, you mean… he's not really called Justin?"
Stan suddenly turned to stare at Harry.
Harry felt like a bucket of cold water had just been dumped over him, but Stan didn't actually seem focused on the fake name anymore.
"Did you just say Sean? Sean Green? That Mr. Green?
The one who wrote the seven Green Notes books, including Green Notes: History of Magic, History of Magical Careers, and Green Notes: Spell Standards?"
Stan asked eagerly.
"There are that many now? Ah—I mean, yes."
Harry said under his breath, relieved.
"Mr. Green! Merlin, it's an honor to meet you!
I never imagined you'd be this young!
—Oh, I loved your Green Notes: Spell Standards. I learned sixteen spells from it!"
Stan shouted, then dashed up into the bus. Harry watched him go, silently lifted his trunk, climbed aboard, and set Hedwig's cage on top of it.
There weren't any seats inside. Along the curtained windows stood six or seven brass-framed beds.
Candles burned in brackets beside each one, lighting up the wooden walls.
Near the back, a short wizard in a nightcap was mumbling,
"Thanks, not now, I'm pickling some slugs."
Then he rolled over in his sleep.
Harry had no idea where he was supposed to sit, so he headed toward Stan—who was still chattering excitedly—and Sean, who seemed interested enough to listen.
"You standardized wand movements and pronunciations. I mean, you've no idea how many weird pronunciations we've all got.
In your notes, you did comparison tests on those strange pronunciations and wand movements, right?
That's what you called it in the book, wasn't it—comparison testing?"
Stan rattled on.
"Excuse me—"
Harry wanted to sit down.
"Don't interrupt me. You sleep in that bed."
Stan said briskly, assigning him a spot.
Harry could only sigh and obediently head toward it.
"Ah yes, comparison tests—I still remember. You even categorized spell progress.
To be honest, I've learned ten Skilled-level spells!
That's something I never experienced back at Hogwarts…
You really can't imagine what it means for a stupid wizard who graduated only to become a ticket conductor, to achieve that in just six months—
That's exactly why I made up my mind to apply as a clerk at Green Bookshop. I heard your shop manager's a truly wonderful person…"
Stan said, and as he went on, his eyes actually turned red.
"I really don't know how to thank you… No one ever taught me these things. I thought the wizarding world only cared about talented wizards."
That, more than anything, left Sean startled and a little at a loss.
"Do you still remember the line on the opening page of Green Notes: Spell Standards?"
Sean asked.
"How could I forget it—
This book is dedicated to everyone who carries magic in their heart. The gates of magic open to every wizard who believes in it."
Stan said, sniffling.
"If a wizard like you read those notes, then I think they found their rightful home."
Sean said.
That did it—Stan's eyes went completely red.
"Oh, Sean's always like that."
Harry watched them while shoving his trunk under the bed behind the driver, who sat in an armchair at the wheel.
"Hello there, son. I'm the driver, Ern Prang."
Ern Prang nodded at Harry.
He was an older wizard wearing thick glasses.
"Drive on, Ern."
The voice came from Sean's side. Stan, now covering his face, sank into the armchair beside Ern.
There was another deafening bang, and the next thing Harry knew, he was flat on his back on the bed.
~~~
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