Henrietta Potter And The Slytherin Child - (A 'Henrietta Potter' sequel) || D.M

40 - The Knight (Bus)

Draco was just about to go after her when a hand yanked furiously at his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Drakie - what the hell is going on?!" Pansy screeched.

Irritated, Draco shrugged her off. He'd had about enough of this god awful woman. Why his parents had always insisted on their friendship with the Parkinson's simply baffled him. And now, because of her, Etta had gone.

No. Because of him.

As much as it killed him to admit it, Blaise had been right. He had treated Etta appallingly tonight. And she hadn't deserved that. He just found it difficult not to revert to his old ways whenever he was around Pansy.

"It's Draco, Pansy, my name is Draco," he thundered down at her.

Pansy flinched as if he'd just hit her. But Draco didn't care. He was anxious to get to Etta before she did anything stupid like use public transport.

He started back towards the front door, with Pansy screeching behind him.

"You're not seriously going after that wench, are you?!"

Draco halted and span furiously around, his eyes piercing fiercely into Pansy's. "She is not a wench!" His voice was filled with such cold fury. "And she is, and always will be a million times the witch you ever were!"

Finally reaching the door, Draco flung it open, slamming it behind him loudly as he flew out into the cold night air, determined to get to his Gryffindor.

***

Draco was right, I probably had had too much to drink to Apparate. And it wouldn't be a good look for the head Auror to go and drunkenly Splinch herself.

So, Knight Bus it was, then.

It had been a while since I'd used it. Fucking years in fact. I remembered when I first boarded it on the night that I had blown up my dear old Aunt Marge. That taught her to call my mother a bitch.

Shivering by the remote country road, I pulled my wand out from down the side of my dress and held it out. It trembled wildly in my hand from the cold.

Why the fuck had I not thought to wear a coat? It was god damn winter for heaven's sake!

Bang!

And here it was. A great big purple eye sore. Gingerly, I looked up, half expecting to be greeted by Stan Shunpike - but of course he was dead.

"Blimey! Ain't you cold, miss?!"

I shivered up at the young man (who could so easily have been Stan's son) standing in the bus's doorway, my teeth chattering together.

"N-n-nah! I-I'm t-toasty!"

"Ah I see, bit o' a comedian, are we?" He grinned, revealing a pair of yellowed crooked teeth. Nice.

"Something like that," I muttered under my breath, stepping up onto the bus to join him.

"Where too then, miss?"

I gave him my address, and suddenly yearned to be back home. I was too old to be out having spats with Draco as though we were still in school.

"It's going to take a while, I'm afraid, miss. It's a busy night and we're almost full. So, I recommend you pay up for a bed and a hot chocolate to warm ya cockles."

"Fine, whatever." I grumbled, as the door shut behind me. But I realised too late that I had no sodding money.

We had already zoomed off, and I held onto a nearby pole for dear life as I tried to guiltily explain my predicament to the young man before me.