The Fourth House
Harry rushed down the hallways of Hogwarts, carrying an armful of books. Hermione and Ron followed behind him, rushing past first years in an effort to reach their class on time. "Slow down Harry!" panted Ron, as he doubled over clutching at his stomach. "Honestly Ronald!" exclaimed Hermione, looking over her shoulder. "If you stop now you'll be late!" Ron rolled his eyes and slowly started into a lumbering jog. With a final spurt, Harry burst into the classroom. Professor McGonagall glared at them intimidatingly. "Potter! Granger! Weasly! All three of you are late! Three points from Gryffindor!" They slunk obediently into their seats. "It was only three minutes," muttered Ron to Harry, as they got out their books. "Mr. Weasly! That's three more points from Gryffindor!" The rest of the class glared at Ron, who banged his head on the desk in despair.
"I don't see why I take the blame!" complained Ron, as they walked to detention. Hermione glared at him. "If your stupid rat hadn't got lost in the common room then we would've probably even been early!" she retorted, crossing her arms and flouncing ahead. Ron looked to Harry, who shrugged. They sprinted to catch up with Hermione, but she had stopped short outside an empty classroom. "Look at this Harry!" she exclaimed, pointedly ignoring Ron. Harry craned his head to see what Hermione was looking at. "What is that?" he asked, pointing into the empty classroom. They slowly pushed through the door and into the classroom. In the middle of the room, stood a blue police box. Ron pushed into the room. "We'll be late again! An' this time it isn't me or Scabbers! McGonagall will probably…" Ron stopped speaking and he stared, gobsmacked, at the box. "What's that then?" he asked, joining Hermione and Harry. Suddenly, the door of the police box opened.