Ripped Away

Year Three: A Grim in the Bushes, Talking Heads and Ugly Bowler Hats

Heracles walked down the street, sighed deeply, and sat on the curb in front of a nearby deserted park to gather her thoughts. She had just left the dinner party from hell a few minutes ago. It wasn't even eight yet, and she was already so damn tired.

'That was the most emotionally exhausting dinner I've ever had. I wanna say magically exhausting as well, but that title is taken by that magic-fueled food fight Ace and Deuce started that one time.', Heracles thought with a weak snort. She remembered that incident well. She had been stuck cleaning meringue pie out of her hair for hours. Heracles smiled at the memory, before her small moment of joy disappeared and she ran a hand down her face in frustration.

'What am I doing? I've been stuck in this damn world for three years, and here I am going to dinners instead of trying to find a way back home, or trying to find Pettigrew so I can clear Black's name. I can't afford to keep wasting time.', Heracles thought self-deprecatingly. It was a thought she tended to have whenever she spent too much time doing something that wasn't related to her many business ventures or her research, even if 'too much time' was barely any time at all. Because if she wasn't actively trying to find a way home, it felt like she was resigning herself to her fate, and that was something she would never do so long as she was still alive and kicking.

With a guilt-ridden conscience, Heracles stood back up and got ready to resume her walking. She would need to book it if she wanted to reach the subway station before the next train left. She brushed off her dress pants and was about to do just that, but something across the street caught her attention. There was something in the bushes, causing the leaves to rustle loudly. Heracles froze when she heard the sound and stared in the direction it had come from. As she did that, the wind picked up slightly. Her hair got in her face a little. The swings behind her creaked in the breeze. The whole situation just felt very eerie and was putting her on edge, so when something reared its head out from within the bushes, Heracles didn't hesitate to pull her wand out of her cane. She pointed it at whatever was there, ready to curse it into next week if she had to, but when she actually saw what was there, Heracles lowered her wand just as quickly.

It was a big, black dog. One with matted fur and huge black eyes that seemed to be staring into her soul. Heracles's breathe caught in her throat. She knew that just because a black dog had stumbled upon her, that didn't mean the dog was Sirius Black. Hell, for all she knew, the dog could be one of those Grim things she had read about; a ghost-dog that only appeared to someone who was about die (not that Heracles put much stock in their existence since Newt Scamander seemed fairly certain they didn't exist, or at the very least were extremely rare). But if there was even a chance the dog was Black, she had to talk to him. At least to gauge whether or not he was still sane after his years in Azkaban. Heracles forced her body to move and took a step towards the dog that was still staring at her.

"Hey- ", she started to say, but the dog bolted back into the brush the second she spoke. Heracles got ready to chase after him.

"No wait, don't go!", she called out as she started to run into the empty street, but she was forced to retreat when a large purple triple-decker bus zoomed around the corner and nearly hit her, its headlights blinding her with their brightness. Heracles acted on instinct. She jumped back to the safety of the sidewalk as fast as she could, nearly falling over in the process. By the time she had regained her balance and eyesight, the bus had slowed to a stop in front of her. Heracles stared up at the vehicle apprehensively as a young wizard with acne in a very stupid looking purple uniform came to stand in the bus's entryway. He didn't even glance at her as he read something aloud off an index card.

"'Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor for this evening'.", the wizard said in a monotone voice, his strong Cockney accent very apparent. Heracles could appreciate the succinct explanation for what the weird bus was and why it was there if nothing else, though that didn't mean she was glad it was there. The young man looked up at Heracles and blinked at her beleaguered appearance.