Chapter 5
Sainz took some time to wrap up affairs at the music company and bid farewell to the old dean. He explained that his new school was in London—far from Dundee—and that he planned to head down early to get familiar with the area.
In truth, his earlier questions to Professor Sinistra about travel methods had been part of his preparation.
The orphanage's fireplace wasn't permanently connected to the Floo Network. After all, it was a Muggle residence, and making an exception for a single Hogwarts first-year was already a generous favor. Expecting continued access would be pushing it—it would look downright ungrateful to keep taxing the Ministry's resources like that.
His quick trip to Diagon Alley had given him a rough understanding of the wizarding world. Gringotts, for example, didn't really welcome British pounds, but gold still held value as a universal currency.
Then again, Sainz had always suspected the magical world was still stuck in a precious metals era, clinging to the gold standard without fully understanding that gold wasn't inherently trustworthy as a medium of value.
Still, this suited him just fine.
After some simple calculations, Sainz estimated that each Galleon weighed about three grams and exchanged at five pounds per Galleon. That meant one gram was worth roughly £1.70. If the coins were made of pure gold, he'd have suffered a massive loss.
But of course, they weren't.
Galleons were magical currency, minted by goblins, and each one bore the mark of its creator—like an anti-counterfeiting measure. In essence, they were closer to an alternative form of credit currency than precious metal.
Currently, gold was worth about £14 per gram. If he had exchanged his full stash of Muggle cash into solid gold, it would have weighed close to 22 kilograms.
Now, he was dragging a nearly 30-kilogram suitcase out the door, raising his applewood wand to hail a ride—just like any ordinary person calling a cab.
Less than a minute later, a triple-decker bus came roaring out of distant traffic and screeched to a halt in front of him, nearly running someone over in the process.
Painted in massive letters across the windshield: Knight Bus.
Bang!
The rear door creaked open, and an old-fashioned conductor hobbled out. His cloudy, unfocused eyes locked onto Sainz, as if worried the boy might disappear if he blinked.
"The Knight Bus at your service... um... sir?" croaked the conductor, his voice raspy with age. "We help anyone in trouble," he added, peering closely at Sainz, "or any wizard in need. I'm Kirill Mayo, conductor."
Sainz gave the elderly man a polite smile and gently declined his offer to carry the luggage, noting that the man looked like he might collapse if he tried.
"Thank you. I can manage. If possible, could you tell me a bit about how this works? This is my first time riding the Knight Bus…"
"Drive, Ern!" Mayo shouted up toward the driver's seat, where a white-haired man was slumped over the wheel.
The bus jolted forward with a thud, weaving into traffic like a missile.
"Instructions?" Mayo repeated. "No instructions. You pay, we take you where you want to go. Right, Ern?"
"Yeah!" the driver shouted back without turning, fiddling with the wheel. A shrunken head dangling from the rearview mirror added in a sing-song voice, "Yeah!"
"That's our driver, Ern Plan," Mayo said proudly.
Ern wore glasses thick as bottle bottoms, which raised some questions about how he could even see the road—if it could be called a road. But this was the wizarding world. Logic was optional.
If you started applying Muggle logic here, you'd end up like Harry Potter's Aunt Petunia.
"I want to go to Gringotts," Sainz said. "How much?"
"Eleven Sickles," Mayo replied. "Fourteen if you want chocolate. Fifteen gets you chocolate and a hot water bottle and a toothbrush. You can even pick the color."
Sainz passed on the extras—he wasn't risking a used toothbrush from a magical bus—and paid the base fare. With casual ease, he hauled his heavy suitcase inside and sat on a worn-out chair with a broken recline lever.
He remembered that when Harry first took the Knight Bus, it had been nighttime and the interior was filled with brass-framed bunk beds. This time, since it was daytime, the floor was scattered with noisy, four-legged chairs that dodged passengers and sagged dramatically under any weight.
Bang!
The bus shot forward again, squeezing between two cars that barely avoided a collision. The world outside flickered from bright to dark and back again—and then the bus lurched to a stop.
"Mr. Ellis Willards, Hadsholmer Park, Lincolnshire. You have arrived."
The conductor slowly climbed the stairs to the upper deck with the help of his cane, returning moments later with a dizzy-looking wizard in a travel cloak. Judging by his expression, the ride had been... unpleasant.
Mayo beamed like a proud butler. "Mr. Willards, right this way."
Mr. Willards stumbled out of the bus, clutching his stomach.
The doors slammed shut and the bus launched itself forward again, like it was in a long-jump competition.
If Sainz weren't built like a tank, he'd never have survived this ride. For casual passengers, the Knight Bus was uncomfortable. For the driver and conductor, it was pure torture. No wonder they looked like walking corpses—this job was probably killing them slowly.
Still smiling, Mayo looked back at Sainz and said warmly, "Lots of passengers every day. People love the Knight Bus. Want to know the secret?"
He didn't wait for a reply.
"The secret is smiling service. Smiles are contagious, Mr. Autumn!"
Sainz nodded politely, grumbling internally: Smiling, my arse. People only ride this thing because they have no other choice. Can't Apparate yet, too tired for a broomstick, Floo access expired...
Boom! Manchester, Sale
Boom! Kings Hotel, Durham
Boom! Birmingham Nature Center
Bang! Elcrane, Binevina
Boom!
Apparently, the Knight Bus didn't follow a logical route. Sainz quickly realized that the stops were based on the boarding order, not geography. Even if your destination was next to someone else's, you'd be flung across the country just to respect the queue.
At last—
"Gringotts! Mr. Autumn, let me help with your luggage."
"Thanks, Mr. Mayo, but I've got it." Sainz effortlessly swung his suitcase down. "See? No trouble at all."
"Right you are. Much lighter than it looks. Good day, Mr. Autumn. If you need a ride again, the Knight Bus is always ready!"
With a final bang, the triple-decker bus lurched forward and vanished.
It really was an incredible invention. One hop could cover over a hundred miles—maybe 160 kilometers. From start to finish, the trip had taken less than ten minutes, most of it spent on loading and unloading passengers.
Such an advanced piece of magical engineering, used for transporting old-school wizards clinging to pre-industrial nostalgia... It was, in a way, the perfect fusion of progress and backwardness.
Sainz couldn't help but smile wryly.
Only in the wizarding world.