Old Tom, with his wrinkled face and sunken, toothless mouth, looked as evil as the Dark wizards of Knockturn Alley.
Yet beneath his ugly exterior lay a warm heart.
Old Tom personally brought Anton to the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron, taught him how to call the Knight Bus, and waited with him for the magical bus to appear with a resounding bang.
He patted Anton's head lovingly, "Good luck, young wizard."
Anton pursed his lips and bowed, "Thank you, Mr. Tom."
For the two months since his time travel, he had followed the old wizard through the Land of Chaos, encountering only a slew of shabby people. Only a few showed him kindness.
Old Tom, his wrinkled mouth smiling like a grandmother, waved his hand, and returned to the bar.
The Knight Bus looked similar to a Muggle bus, with wheels and large headlights. It was three stories high. Looking through the windows, he saw no seats, only a bed with brass posts and a candle holder beside it.
Looking back, he could still see a small, dried head hanging in the cab.
This small head originated from the headhunting culture of South America, where they hunted their enemies' heads and used a unique head-shrinking technique to shrink them to the size of a baby's. This technique is very popular among British wizards, both dark wizards and regular wizards alike.
"Welcome aboard the Knight Bus, an emergency passenger transport service for witches or wizards in distress. Just hold out your wand and step on board, and we'll take you anywhere you want to go."
A handsome young man stood at the handrail, his uniform cap tilted on his head, smiling brightly. "My name is Stan Shunpike, and I'm your conductor today."
The smile was so contagious that Anton smiled too. "I'm going... Wait a minute, let me check," said the conductor, Stan, proudly. "Anywhere you want to go, as long as it's on land."
Anton pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. "Huh, France?"
Stan blinked. "France?"
Anton hadn't expected the goblin who could cure Lupin actually lived in France. He stared at Stan. "May I ask how much the fare is?"
The Knight Bus wasn't cheap.
In the book, Harry spent a full eleven silver Sickles on the journey from Privet Drive to the Leaky Cauldron. According to the bizarre multi-base currency system of the British wizarding world, one gold galleon equals seventeen silver Sickles.
And that's just for domestic travel; if you were to go abroad, you'd probably have to pay several more!
The ticket seller Stan was a little embarrassed. "It's not a matter of price. We may not be able to go to France."
Seeing Anton looking at him puzzled, he couldn't help but explain. "The Knight Bus was an idea proposed by the then British Minister of Magic, Dugald MacPhail. There are actually some wizards in the UK who stick to tradition and resist it. They even call it a 'Muggle insult'."
Anton frowned and tightened the handle of the suitcase. "What do you mean?"
Stan chuckled. "The French won't be so open. They are too old-fashioned. They don't even have a proposal about buses."
He shrugged. "We can't go to France."
Anton looked back at the Leaky Cauldron in confusion. It didn't make sense that Old Tom would lie to him in this place.
He handed the ticket seller a slip of paper. "Someone told me you could take me to this place."
Stan examined it carefully. "Aha, a small island between two countries. We can go there."
He handed the slip back to Anton with a grin and helped carry the suitcase aboard. "You're lucky, little one. We used to operate only on land."
The driver turned. He was an elderly wizard with thick glasses and a bushy, meticulously trimmed beard. "A while ago, the wizards on these small islands protested, saying that mainland China is an island too, so why discriminate against smaller islanders like them?"
He shrugged comically. "So we have to drive over water
" Stan chimed in. "After all, we promised not to go underwater."
Then the two men smiled at each other for some inexplicable reason.
Anton's mouth twitched. He sometimes felt out of place with foreigners; he didn't even find their jokes funny.
He didn't understand why the wizards on the small islands around Britain protested so they could take him to a small island in France. As long as he
could get there, it was fine.
The fare wasn't as outrageous as one might have imagined, just fifteen silver Sickles.
"You sleep in this one," Stan whispered, leading him to an empty bed and helping him stuff the suitcase under it before returning to the driver's chair.
Unlike the fan fiction and movie clips Anton had read before, the driver of this car wasn't a skilled driver; rather, he was quite unskilled.
With a bang, the car sped forward with a powerful shove, ramming into and around him .
Sometimes, it even bounced along, causing everything in its path to leap out of the way.
Once the car had passed, lampposts, mailboxes, trash cans, trees, even Muggle cars and pedestrians, returned to their original positions.
It was practically a distortion of space.
Anton stared curiously outside the car, observing the distorted images. Thanks to two months of following the old wizard's eccentric wizard, he had learned more than just awe at many wizarding abilities.
Understanding their principles was the only positive influence of the old wizard's teachings.
Anton even spotted a familiar place along the way.
A campground for wandering wizards.
Cars continued to barrel through, everything distorted. Two hooded, faceless Dark wizards whispered in a corner, oblivious to the car's passing.
Anton leaned over the window, his face barely a palm's breadth from theirs, and distinctly heard a few words—"...leeches can be used to extract potions..."
The car sometimes took a detour, swerving around buildings that clearly belonged to legitimate magical departments.
"Isn't that amazing!" Stan, the conductor, chuckled, clearly pleased.
Adult wizards mostly used Apparition and broomsticks, and a large portion of their clients were young, naive wizards. He loved seeing their expressions of wonder, a source of particular pride. Anton's eyes sparkled.
"Indeed, is this car enchanted by some kind of spell?" Stan's expression froze, evidently the young wizard had asked another question he couldn't answer. He could only maintain a mysterious expression, "This is an alchemical artifact from the Ministry of Magic. Hehe, it's a secret!"
Anton nodded in understanding.
He thought to himself, if this is a spell that can be mastered, combined with a flying broom, wouldn't it be very convenient to go anywhere?
It can even reach the point of appearing and disappearing like a ghost!
I must find out when I get a chance, and see if there is a chance to learn it!
I secretly wrote this down.
The car drove through the city, the wilderness, and the ocean, and finally came to an island that didn't look big.
To be precise, it was very small. A tree and a small wooden house almost occupied the entire island.
The car could only park half of its body on the water.
Stan helped to carry the luggage down, "Well, goodbye, little guy, raise your wand if you need anything, the Knight Bus is at your service at any time!"
With a loud bang, the car sank into thin air and disappeared.