Chapter 178: The Silent Journey
There were no seats inside the carriage. Instead, brass bedsteads were scattered haphazardly throughout the bus.
Most were already occupied by shabby looking witches and wizards, leaving only two beds vacant: one in the far corner and another directly opposite it.
Harry dragged his trunk toward the bed in the corner.
As the Knight Bus hurtled forward with all the violence of a runaway roller coaster, Harry gripped the brass bedpost tightly and watched the scenery outside blur past like an oil painting being stretched apart.
After what felt like an eternity, the bus came to a violent stop with a deafening bang somewhere along a London street.
Harry was thrown straight off the bed and onto the floor.
"Passenger coming aboard! Make way, make way!" Stan Shunpike shouted.
Rubbing his aching shoulder, Harry had only just scrambled back to his feet when he heard the steady sound of footsteps climbing the bus steps.
A moment later, a familiar scent drifted into the carriage.
It was a mixture of woody fragrance and the cool, crisp smell of Potions.
Harry looked up.
His entire body froze.
The newcomer wore robes of pure black. Her pale, delicate features carried their usual air of natural arrogance and coldness.
Tamara Riddle.
Over the past week, Tamara had raided numerous Dark wizard hideouts throughout Albania. The experience had not only given her something resembling a spiritual baptism, but had also brought her an unexpected fortune.
After returning to Britain and resting for a while, however, she had quickly discovered that the materials she needed were running low as she continued researching the limits of the golden bloodline through alchemy.
Her original plan had been to travel to the Leaky Cauldron and enter Diagon Alley from there to purchase fresh supplies.
Unfortunately, she was still underage and could not yet Apparate. She also had no desire to rely on Muggle transportation.
That left her with only one reluctant option.
The rattling, violently swaying Knight Bus.
The moment Tamara stepped aboard, her brow furrowed slightly.
She had immediately spotted the messy haired boy currently sprawled beside one of the brass beds.
Potter?
What was he doing aboard this wretched bus in the middle of the night, dragging around a battered trunk instead of serving as a punching bag at his Muggle relatives' house?
Tamara rolled her eyes inwardly.
Based on the past two years, every time this cursed saviour saw her, he would come over like an overly attached stray dog, stare at her with those green eyes shining with idiotic enthusiasm, then start chattering endlessly about whatever had happened to him recently.
Tamara was already prepared to be pestered.
She had even come up with three particularly vicious remarks in her head, each more than capable of shutting him up.
Alternatively, she could simply brush him aside with a false smile. After all, she had only recently returned from Albania and was still in a fairly good mood. Dealing with one self important fool should not have been difficult.
However, what happened next caused her to pause.
The moment Harry saw her, unmistakable surprise flashed across his face.
His heart skipped a beat despite himself.
Then, in the very next second, his slightly dazed expression turned cold.
His jaw tightened.
The faint joy that had instinctively appeared in his emerald eyes disappeared, replaced by stubborn indifference.
Harry stiffly looked away.
He simply turned his head, showing Tamara the back of it, and stared fixedly at the blurred streetlights outside as though they were the most fascinating sight in the world.
He ignored her.
Completely.
Tamara raised an eyebrow.
A trace of surprise flashed through her dark eyes.
Oh?
The clingy fool had actually changed his behaviour today?
Her surprise lasted no more than a second.
Rather than feeling offended at being ignored, Tamara sneered with satisfaction.
Potter not bothering her was practically Merlin's blessing.
She had no interest in wondering what sort of adolescent tantrum he was throwing.
If he wanted to pretend he did not know her for the rest of his life, even better. It would save her a great deal of trouble.
Tamara withdrew her gaze and spoke coolly to the conductor.
"The Leaky Cauldron. One ticket."
"Right you are, miss! Eleven Sickles!" Stan said cheerfully as he collected the money.
Then he gestured toward the carriage.
"Bit unlucky tonight, though. Nearly all the brass beds are taken."
Stan pointed directly toward the corner where Harry sat.
"Only one left is the bed opposite that young lad there."
Tamara looked at the narrow brass bed.
Then she looked at Harry sitting opposite it, doing his best impression of someone dark and brooding.
The corner of her mouth twitched.
Unfortunately, the Knight Bus had no intention of giving her time to consider alternatives.
Bang!
The bus shot forward once again with its usual violence.
Caught off guard by the sudden acceleration, Tamara staggered backwards. To avoid falling outright onto the floor, she was forced to take several hurried steps before sitting stiffly on the only available bed.
Directly opposite Harry.
The two brass beds faced each other across an absurdly narrow aisle.
There were only a few inches between their knees.
Harry visibly stiffened.
His hand tightened around the bedpost.
He could clearly smell that familiar scent coming from directly across from him.
Harry clenched his teeth and stubbornly maintained his awkward posture, staring out of the window without saying a word.
Do not talk to her.
Harry repeated the warning frantically inside his head.
She does not care about you at all. Stop being an idiot and imagining otherwise.
Tamara, meanwhile, took the silence even further.
She crossed her legs, folded her arms over her chest, then closed her eyes to rest.
The supposed saviour sitting directly opposite her, radiating enough gloom to darken the entire carriage, might as well have been invisible.
Rumble.
Bang!
The bus rocked violently from side to side, slammed on its brakes, then launched itself through the late night streets of London.
Every violent turn and sudden stop sent the unsecured brass beds sliding across the polished wooden floor.
One moment, the beds drifted apart.
The next, they crashed toward each other.
During one particularly abrupt stop, the two beds knocked together, causing the hem of Tamara's robes to brush against Harry's knee.
Harry immediately jerked his leg away as though he had been shocked.
He nearly pressed his entire body against the cold metal wall of the carriage.
His neck was becoming stiff from keeping his head turned toward the window, yet he still bit his lip and refused to look at Tamara even once.
Tamara was left almost speechless by his exaggerated reaction.
She shifted closer to the head of her bed, doing her best to increase the distance between them.
Outside, the wind howled and the engine roared.
Yet between the two narrow brass beds facing each other, an unusually awkward silence filled the air.
After an unknown amount of time, the brakes shrieked.
Bang!
The Knight Bus came to a violent halt in front of the Leaky Cauldron on Charing Cross Road.
Almost the instant the door opened, Harry sprang to his feet.
In a dry voice carrying a tension even he did not seem to notice, he quickly muttered one word.
"Goodbye."
Then he seized his heavy trunk and hurried off the bus without looking back, disappearing into the night almost as quickly as he could manage.
Tamara remained seated on the bed.
She watched him stumble away and vanish into the darkness, completely unable to understand his behaviour.
"Mad."