Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter universe, I’ve just borrowed it for this bit of fan fiction. XD
Last Ride – A Knight Bus Fic
I was not old enough to Apparate, and possessed a deep-rooted aversion for the sooty after effects of travelling by Floo Powder. That was why I’d ridden the Knight Bus twice a day every day that summer, on my way to and from my summer job at Flourish and Blotts, a bookstore in Diagon Alley.
And every day during those rides I’d made small talk with the conductor, Stan Shunpike. We’d talked about Quidditch, joke shop products, snoring passengers, the time Neville Longbottom rode his bus (who is Neville Longbottom anyway?)… All kinds of things that he enjoyed, none of which interested me in the least. And yet I found our conversations fascinating, and I enjoyed every minute of them.
And that, of course, was the crazy thing about it. I mean, who in his or her right mind would ever have thought that I, Anna Stewart, the bookworm, the nerd, would fall head over heels in love with someone like Stan? But that was exactly what happened.
Oh, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that this is just a passing fancy. That I’m just your average, silly teenage girl looking for summer romance and, in a moment of desperation, chosen Stan as the object of my infatuation.
But that wasn’t it. It honestly wasn’t. I was fascinated by his adorable senselessness, the absurd way he spoke, and just…everything about him.
So what if he was on the gangly beanpole side? So what if he had spots on his face? Looks are not everything. I know, for instance, several astonishingly attractive people who are also astonishingly horrid. And I do not say this because I am an ugly jealous twit, I assure you. Because I am not an ugly jealous twit. I am actually not bad looking. Oh, lads may not be frolicking ‘round me all hours of the day, writing sonnets to my nose or left ear and what-not, but I generally have an admirer or two hanging about. So it is not out of envy that I say this to you. It is just fact.
And besides, despite his unfortunate spots, I thought Stan was quite fit looking, thank you very much.
So yes… I, Anna Stewart, had, against all odds, reason, and probability, fallen in love with Stan Shunpike over the course of the summer. It made riding the Knight Bus something to look forward to, rather than something to dread, as it had often been in the past. In fact, riding the bus with Stan had become the highlight of my dreary days.
…And this was to be my last ride.
"’Ere you are, Missy," Stan said in that ridiculous accent of his, using his special name for me. Oh, I know he calls every girl who rides the bus ‘Missy’, but it was the way he said it to me that made it special. It was different from the way he said it to other girls… or at least I like to think so.
I hadn’t the heart to do anything but murmur a thank you (I was that depressed) and take my seat, keeping my eyes cast despairingly towards the ground. I clung tightly to a pole as the bus careened wildly through the streets of London, not uttering a sound despite the shocking jolts and bumps I experienced.
Oh, it was all too horrible! I felt as if I might burst into tears at any moment. Surreptitiously, I stole a glance at Stan to see how he was holding up, but the brave, courageous lad seemed as unfazed and carefree as ever. Clearly his lack of outward suffering indicated that he was nobly attempting to be strong for me…
But then there was also the fact that he was unaware of the situation.
I just hadn’t had the heart to tell him yet, you see. I knew he’d be devastated. And if he wasn’t devastated, I would be. But I would, I knew, have to tell him soon. Very soon. But just now I wanted nothing more than to stare at him, memorizing every hair on his head, every spot on his face.
"Whatchoo lookin’ at?" Stan demanded after a few moments of this, craning his neck to look behind him and see if there was anything worth viewing there, causing me to jump about a foot into the air. "You all right, Missy?"
I took a few deep breaths to regain my composure. "Fine, thanks," I said, smiling in an over-bright manner. "Just fine."
He looked at me funny for a minute before continuing to flick through the Daily Prophet.
I licked my lips and took another deep breath. It was now or never. "Stan…" I said hesitantly, and, when he looked up, those blue eyes searching my soul, I blushed and looked away. "Nothing. Never mind." He shrugged and continued his perusal of the paper.
I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t do it.
But I had to.
"This is my last ride on the bus," I blurted out all in one breath. Whew. It was over. He knew. "I’m going back to school next week, you see," I continued at a more reasonable pace. "And Mum wants me to spend my last week of hols. at home." Now that it was all out in the open, I dared a glance at him to see how he was taking it.
"Well now, that’s too bad, Missy," he said, not seeming a bit crushed. I felt my heart drop down about ten zillion feet, somewhere deep below the ground- "It won’t be the same wiffout you ‘round ‘ere." –and then take a U-turn and leap back up into its proper place, and then going a step further, soaring into the sky.
Okay, so it wasn’t exactly a profession of his undying love and affection, but it was something! It showed he’d miss me…at least a little bit.
Or maybe that was what he said to all the girls who told him it was their last ride. I chewed my fingernails for a few minutes, debating the issue…and the next thing I knew it was my stop.
Had this been any other bus, the conductor would have had to say my name several times before I awoke out of my reverie enough to realize we’d come to a halt; but this was the Knight Bus and I had no such difficulties. Ernie, the driver, is a master at stopping on a dime, and when he puts his foot on the brakes it is always with force.
Slung violently forward by the sudden stop, I found myself catapulting into Stan’s arms and, despite the fact that this was exactly where I wanted to be, I found myself quite embarrassed. I felt my cheeks flush, and with a grimace I straightened myself. "Sorry," I apologized clumsily. "Sudden stop, you know. Inertia and all that." Only of course he didn’t know. How could he? Much as I loved him, I could never be so blind as to say that he was precisely bright. I had striven so very hard to hide my intelligence from him that summer for that very reason, and if his puzzled expression was any indication, it would appear that I had just blown my cover.
Oh, Fate was surely on my side that night, can’t you tell?
"S’all righ’, Missy," he hastened to assure me. "No ‘arm done."
I stood about awkwardly for a few moments, feeling like a foolish loon-type person. Merlin! Why could I do nothing properly? "Well," I bit my lip, and gazed wistfully up at him. "Looks like this is my stop."
"You ‘ave a good year at school, Missy, an’ we’ll see you next summer."
I felt so deflated, dejected, depressed, and all manner of other disagreeable emotions beginning with D. This was it, then. I might never see him again, and all he had to say to me was ‘see you next summer’? Life was indeed too cruel. Couldn’t he see my heart was breaking? Why didn’t he kiss me?
I let out a sigh and hoisted my brown leather messenger bag onto my shoulder, and began walking ever so slowly, as if I were willing Time to come to a stop (and, indeed, I was), towards the exit. Nevertheless, I found myself standing on the pavement all too soon.
"Well," I said, smiling half-heartedly up at him. "See you later, Stan."
I would like to say that I had enough pride to accept defeat, and that I walked away without looking back one…but unfortunately I cannot. I paused a mere three steps away and sighed dejectedly, gazing longingly over my shoulder at the closing doors of the Knight Bus. With all my might I willed them to open again, but never really believed they would.
And so when, a moment later, they did open, I was so flabbergasted as to lose my balance, barely managing to steady myself before I fell flat on my bum.
"Missy!" Stan called, his form silhouetted against the light flooding out of the bus. I felt my heart leap into my throat as I turned around and made my way back toward him.
"Yes, Stan?" I replied breathlessly, getting lost in his clear blue eyes.
Time seemed to stand still (finally), and he just gazed back at me for a long moment. Then he cupped my chin in his hands and leaned down, and I could tell my dreams were about to come true…
What? You don’t believe me? Oh, all right, so I imagined that part. He did not gaze longingly into my eyes, and he did not kiss me. What he did do is hold out a dark, cloth object which I recognized immediately as my hat. Very romantic indeed.
"You forgot your ‘at," he told me, handing it over before disappearing one last time behind the closing double doors.
Oh well, I thought ruefully, jamming it down around my ears as I watched the Knight Bus streak off into the distance, maybe next year.