Time flies by quickly, and the Christmas holiday seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.
Adult wizards returned to their posts to begin a new round of work.
Meanwhile, the young wizards left home and embarked on their journey back to Hogwarts to continue their studies.
Whether on the return journey by train or car, or at home, the young wizards all seemed languid, like eggplants that had been hit by frost.
Even wizards can't escape the troubles of holiday syndrome.
"Holiday syndrome" describes the various physical or psychological effects people experience after long holidays.
Such as feeling weary and low in spirits during the two or three days following the holiday, with reduced efficiency in school or work, and even unexplained nausea, dizziness, intestinal reactions, neurotic anorexia, anxiety, or nervous breakdown.
It's not too bad ordinarily, but now there's Umbridge at school, lurking like a toad in the shadows—occasionally popping out to take a lick at people, which is really quite revolting.
On the last day of the holiday, Harry bid farewell to Cassandra and Pabi and, together with Ron and Hermione, prepared to board the return bus.
They planned to take the Knight Bus back to Hogwarts. Although recent events had been tense, they hadn't directly threatened the young wizards, so Little Sirius hadn't planned to send them to school but instead let them travel on their own.
"They're all adult wizards." Little Sirius said, "I trust you can take care of yourselves."
"But, Godfather," Harry rolled his eyes, "I'm not an adult yet..."
"Oh, come on, Harry." Little Sirius leaned against the wall, "I don't think we should use the standards for young wizards to care for you. I need to go fight battles at the Ministry of Magic with Fudge."
After breakfast, they put on their coats, donned their scarves, and got ready to set off.
The January morning was gray and cold.
"Take care." Little Sirius waved, standing at the doorstep of Number Twelve Grimmauld Square, waving them goodbye.
"Goodbye, Little Sirius." They all waved at Little Sirius together.
The door closed, and Number Twelve Grimmauld Square rapidly shrunk as the surrounding houses squeezed in, and in the blink of an eye, it was gone.
"Magic is really amazing." Hermione marveled sincerely, "Even after living in the magic world for so many years, witnessing this scene still leaves me in awe."
Harry took out his magic wand, pointing it at the sky. Almost simultaneously, with a loud bang, a bright purple triple-decker bus descended from the sky, nearly hitting a lamp post, but the lamp post jumped back to avoid it.
A skinny young man in a purple uniform with prominent ears and a face full of pimples jumped down and said, "Welcome aboard the Knight Bus!"
"Get on, get on." Harry beckoned everyone, "Hurry and get on..."
The conductor stared at Harry, pointing at him and saying, "Isn't this Harry Potter?"
"Hello, Sampark." Harry greeted the conductor; he had ridden the Knight Bus before.
Stan Shunpike extended both hands, shook Harry's hand energetically, saying, "What an honor that Harry Potter remembers my name... Seven of you, right? I'll get your tickets ready."
Harry smiled at him politely and led the way onto the bus, followed by Ron.
"I've always wanted to ride this." Ron said excitedly, boarding the bus and looking around without sitting down.
"There's nothing much to see." Hermione said, giving Ron a gentle push on the back, "If I were you, I would hurry and sit down to avoid blocking the way, you know?"
Ron chuckled awkwardly and sat next to Harry.
It was morning, and the bus featured a variety of chairs, randomly scattered around the window, some seemingly knocked over when the bus abruptly stopped at Grimmauld Square, while a few wizards grumbled as they climbed back up.
Someone's shopping bag had slid to the far end of the bus, spilling frog spawn, cockroaches, and scrambled egg mixture all over the floor.
At this moment, Stan Shunpike approached from the doorway, saying to Harry, "From Grimmauld Square to Hogwarts... Let me see, it should be eleven Sickles per person."
"I'll pay for it." Harry took out a few Galleons and handed them to Stan Shunpike, "No need to return the change. I rather dislike doing math."
"Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Potter." Stan Shunpike said, jovially bowing to Harry, "Luckily, I don't like doing math either."
He glanced at Ron, who was still on his knees on the chair, enthusiastically chatting with the twins.
"If I were you, I'd sit properly and buckle up." He advised Ron.
Taking his advice seriously, Ron obediently climbed back up onto his seat, buckled his seatbelt.
The bus started again, rumbling and jolting over Grimmauld Square.
The vehicle twisted and turned, swaying vigorously from side to side.
Harry sat still as a rock, but Ron beside him wobbled like a weeble, swaying left and right. Had he not buckled up, he might have been thrown over to the driver's seat.
Suddenly, two buses appeared ahead, driving side by side — heading directly toward the Knight Bus.
"I think we're driving the wrong way." Hermione slapped her forehead.
"We won't crash, right?" Ron asked, nervously gripping the chair while his voice trembled.
Responding as if to answer, the driver Ern Plunkett stared fiercely at the gap with bulging eyes, a nearly fanatical smile spreading across his mouth, without a hint of hesitation.