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¡°Get off me,¡± Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. ¡°I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because ¡ª I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers ¡ª just for you.¡±

With a yell, he rolled back onto the pavement, just in time. A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt exactly where Harry had just been lying. They belonged, as Harry saw when he raised his head, to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus.

¡°I thought he was dead for sure.¡±

¡°I'll come with you!¡± said Neville brightly. ¡°I haven't done it either!¡±


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