1

`Happy Birthday to you,' sang Hermione tunelessly as Ron turned a wince into a smile. In Hermione's hands was a sponge cake slathered in maroon icing (I'm so sorry, Ron. Mum ran out of any other food colouring) and in two inch iced letters were the words Thirteen Today! Hermione neared the end of her song. `Happy Birthday, dear Ro-nald, Happy Birthday to you!'

Harry broke into applause, and so did Ron. Hermione smiled proudly, unable to clap but nodding fiercely. The Gryffindor table eyed the cake when Hermione placed it carefully on the smooth wooden surface, shifting a plate of bacon and almost crushing Trevor.

`Sorry, Neville- Ron, do you want to cut the first slice?' Hermione pushed a blunt butter knife into Ron's hand. Ron looked down at it a little nervously and nodded. When he hacked his way through the first slice, is was as if a bomb went off.

`Can I have some!'

`And me!'

`Can I have two slices, me mam'll want some-'

Silence fell when McGonagall clopped her way over to them, her leather shoes clacking on the stone floor.

`A little order might be nice,' she said sternly. Then waved her wand and muttered, `Gemino. There,' and started walking away as three copies materialized. `Enough for everyone.'

Harry was certain he caught a slight smile as the cakes floated to each of the house tables.

`I'll give it to your mum, Hermione,' Ron mumbled, licking icing off his fingers. `She's not half bad at cakes.' Even though the compliment wasn't aimed at her, Hermione blushed as they walked past a broom cupboard.

BANG!

The three turned their heads sharply to the door. Muffled voices came out.

`Where are we-'

`Mike?'

`I'm okay, El-'

Harry strode forwards and opened the door. Four kids tumbled out. One of them, a boy in a red jacket, looked around, eyes popping. Then yelled

`SEE! I told you she's the monster!' He pointed accusingly towards a short, skinny girl. Her eyes were wide and terrified- understandable, thought Harry. The boy in the red jacket looked like he was going to kill her.

`She's not the monster!' Snapped a second boy. He resembled Harry, to an extent- no glasses and less messy hair, but similar colouring and height.

`Then where are we? Go on, answer!'

American? Thought Harry, surprised. Then as their voices got louder, Harry began to worry. To get to Charms quicker Harry had led them through a shortcut, but that didn't mean no one could come by. And with the racket these kids who certainly weren't Hogwarts students were making...

`Maybe we should tell a teacher?' Hissed Hermione, leaning closer to Harry and Ron. She stared at the girl's blonde hair, and Ron shook his head decisively.

`Are you insane? With all the stuff happening?'

`Well, it could be them!'

The four new kids watched Ron and Hermione bickering. Harry decided to take matters into his own hands.

`My name's Harry, Harry Potter,' he said. `And this is Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. You're in Hogwarts. In Scotland.'

`Son of a bitch,' sighed a third boy with a lisp. `Mom says it always rains here.'

After a considerable amount of circular arguments that went nowhere and bickering, eventually it was decided that they'd take the four kids back to the deserted common room.

`What's your name?' Hermione asked the blonde girl. The girl looked at her and pulled back the sleeve of her blue jacket. Then tapped on three inked-on numbers.

`Eleven,' Hermione read slowly. The girl- Eleven- nodded then pulled her sleeve back down, keeping her chin tucked into her chest.

`Where do you live?' Hermione pressed on, keeping her tone light. However, her probing was painfully obvious.

Eleven shrunk away slightly, then whispered,`With Mike.'

`Who's Mike?'

`Me,' interrupted the one with black hair. `And stop asking her questions, you're scaring her.' Hermione went a little pink and backed off. Mike turned back round, and continued walking.

Something Harry had been panicking about on the way to the common room was getting past the Fat Lady. However, for once, luck was on their side.

The Fat Lady's head drooped on her shoulder, with Violet snoring loudly next to her. A sturdy wooden crate lay on it's side, a few empty bottles scattered about.

`Grindylow,' Ron said. He seemed to have warmed up quite quickly to Dustin. The Fat Lady opened her eyes a crack. They all held their breath, but her eyelids slid back down.

`All the same to me, dear,' she groaned, then swung forward. The motion seemed to be too much for Violet, who threw up off the edge of the frame.

`That's nasty,' the red jacket boy muttered, his face screwed up. Harry led the way through the passage. However, when they reached the common room, Eleven tripped over as she was climbing out. She fell down with a thump; the red carpet was too thick for it to have hurt, but her blonde hair came flying off. It hit Ron in the face, who caught it, almost dropped it and then finally got a good hold on the silky, synthetic hair. Looking mortified, Eleven's hands jumped up to her scalp, trying to cover it.

`I thought you were wearing a wig!' Blurted Hermione tactlessly. Eleven's real hair was buzzed almost down to the scalp, and dark brown. She got up off the floor unsteadily and grabbed it, before smoothing it back down over her real hair. Her face shone scarlet.

`You okay, El?' Called Mike, who came through last.

Eleven nodded, the hem of her dress knotted up in her hands.

Harry, Ron and Hermione introduced different bits of the common room. When Hermione pointed towards the girl's dormitory, Dustin and Red Jacket (who still hadn't spoken to anyone) looked at each other briefly. After a moment's pause, they sprinted up the stairs whilst snorting, which rapidly turned to yells of shock as the staircase turned into a smooth slide. Red Jacket landed with a thump on his back, whereas Dustin was cushioned by the large rucksack on his back. There was a loud crunch.

`Sonofabitch,' he swore. `The Pringles.' Ron's eyes went wide.

`You've got Pringles?' He asked weakly, before snapping out of it and helping Dustin up.

`Thanks,' he replied, clapping Ron on the arm a couple of times. Then a little giggle broke the air. Eleven, blonde once again, pressed a hand to her mouth but the smile was still visible. At least until red jacket boy glared at her.

`Something's going on there,' Harry whispered in Hermione's ear, almost inaudible. She nodded.

`What just happened?' Snarled red jacket boy, getting up and rubbing his head. `How did the stairs change?'

`Oh…'

Harry, Ron and Hermione realised they'd completely forgotten to mention the magic. If Eleven, Mike, Dustin and Red Jacket were Muggles they wouldn't have been able to get into the castle. However, it was now clear that they had zero idea of the nature of the school; maybe they'd thought the painting was a TV.

`Yeah, um, we're wizards. She's a witch,' explained Ron. `And this is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.' Red Jacket didn't say anything- he turned around, completely silent. Then walked quietly over to Harry's favourite armchair by the fire. Harry thought that the other boy might be about to faint; then Red Jacket kicked the armchair so hard it shot a good three feet away.

`Lucas!' Shouted Dustin.

`I'm sick of this!' Yelled Lucas, gesturing with his fists. `Magic, and dimensions, and fleas and acrobats and- shit!' He kicked the armchair another foot. It skidded to a halt barely an inch away from the crackling fire. Then he stormed towards the portrait hole.

`No!' Shouted Hermione. `If you're a Muggle- You can't leave, it isn't safe-'

Lucas paid no heed. He wrenched open the door, scrambled through the passage, and then out the other side.

There was a slam, and an indignant shout from the Fat Lady. Dustin's mouth hung open slightly.

Ron shook his head slowly. `He's dead.'