by Victory Thru Tears and Star

Part 2 ~ Harry’s POV
by Victory Thru Tears

     The Sorting Hat ceremony has never seemed so boring. Maybe it’s because this is the third time we’ve had to go through it. I mean, the first time it was obviously exciting, because we were the ones being sorted. Second year, Ron and I crashed into the Whomping Willow, and we didn’t have to go sit through the whole ordeal…we were too busy worrying about getting expelled. Third year, I went through the Dementor scare on the train and missed it again. Finally, at the beginning of fourth year, we got to see the ceremony again. I think it was only interesting because we hadn’t seen it for the past two years.

     Because now, I’m on the edge of falling asleep.

     “Stanford, Ella!”

     “GRYFFINDOR!”

     Yes, yay, clap-clap. At least they’re on the S’s.

     Ron pokes me in the side.

     “Don’t fall asleep, Harry! Come on, where’s your Gryffindor pride?” He hisses.

     I stare at him. That seems like a very un-Ron-like thing to say. I blink a few times to make sure that it is my best friend next to me.

     Yeah, that’s him.

     I sigh, and try to turn my attention back to the front of the Great Hall. Is it just me, or is there double the usual amount of first years?

     “Torrance, Stephanie!”

     Oh great, another Torrance girl. The Torrance twins, Vicky and Starling, are Ravenclaws in Ginny’s year, and they’re as crazy as they come. They’re inseparable, and even finish each other’s sentences. I can only imagine what their little sister is like.

     The Sorting Hat opens its brim to yell out the house, but only gets through “RAVENC- “ before there’s a gigantic crash in the middle of the Great Hall.

     The teachers leap from the High Table and run forward, wands pointed towards the heap in the middle of the floor.

     A murmur rushes through the crowd like wild fire, and everyone turns their head to stare at me. I blink, confused. Why is it that every time something happens, everyone looks at me? Then again, it does make sense. A loud crash into Hogwarts, it must be You-Know-Who coming to kill Harry Potter.

     Instead of returning the look that the entire student population of Hogwarts is giving me, I crane my head forward to see what is going on. The professors surround the heap on the floor, their wands still out.

     “What is going on?”

     “Do you think we’re dead?”

     “Why are you pointing sticks at us?”

     “Adam, what the hell did you put in the food?”

     “We must have heat stroke.”

     I glance at Hermione, who is staring back at me. They’re muggles. Even stranger- American muggles. What in the blazes are they doing at Hogwarts?

     The teachers seem to also have made this connection, because they back away and put their wands back in their robes. I watch as Dumbledore says something to McGonagall, who nods. The staff moves away from the floor, and I finally get a peek at the invaders. There are four boys and two girls, both of whom are hiding behind the others. They’re all wearing muggle clothes, as I had expected. They back up as a mass when Dumbledore approaches them. The biggest one of all the muggles holds up a fist menacingly. I almost want to laugh. A bunch of muggle teenagers fighting Dumbledore?

     The headmaster takes another step towards them, and the small girl with dark hair shrieks, and hides behind one of the other boys. Dumbledore sighs, and points his wand them again.

     “Petrificus Totalus.” He says lazily.

     Six bodies hit the floor with a thud. Because of the full body bind, they can’t speak. But even from here I can see their wide-eyed stares as Dumbledore flicks his wrist again, making them float in midair. They go in a single file line from the Great Hall, followed by the headmaster. As soon as they are out of sight, the Hall fills with excited conversation.

     “Let us proceed with the Sorting Ceremony.” McGonagall’s voice booms, cutting through the chattering of the students. “Thompson, George!”

     Barely anyone stops talking. Both Ron and Hermione turn to stare at me.

     “What?” I ask indignantly. “Just because something weird happened, doesn’t mean that I had something to do with it.”

     “Sorry Harry, it’s just that…well…” Hermione trails off and looks at Ron for help.

     “Usually when something weird happens, you have something to do with it.” He finishes. Hermione nods fervently.

     I sigh, and try to turn my attention back to the Sorting Ceremony. Out of the corner of my eye I see Malfoy whispering to Crabbe and Goyle. They’re all staring in the direction of the door Dumbledore and the six strangers went through. Malfoy has a mischievous grin on his face. Usually when he has that expression on his face, I take care to stay away from him. But at the same time he looks painfully curious. It must be killing him…he really wants to know what’s going on, but he has to stay somewhat indifferent. After all, they are muggles.

     I feel a pair of eyes on me, and I glance to the High Table to see Snape staring back at me. Ooh sorry Professor, is am I not supposed to look at the Slytherins? Leave me be, you, slimy git. Hermione clears her throat, and I jump, wondering if she can read my mind or something. She gives me a stern look, and turns back to the ceremony.

     I sigh, and face forwards as “Walworth, Jeremy” is called.