A/N: Sorry this took me so long to finish; I've been really busy lately. I want to thank everyone who reviewed and stuck with this story. So I hope you like it, happy reading.
A New School
It had been a two days since Harry and McGonagall had been forced to flee England for America. Harry was use to this, but for some reason he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. Harry had never had a best friend, because they constantly had to move. When they went back to the US he was usually far ahead of his peers because European schools are much harder. When he was in Europe he was the 'American' and different. He just never seemed to fit in, till they had gone to England. There his accent wasn't different, there he was on the same level as everyone else, and there he had made a best friend.
'Ron probably hates me now,' Harry thought miserably. Today he would have to start school again; McGonagall had fixed it so their town house was near a good school. Yet he was still way ahead of everyone else, in the short amount of time he was in England and with some tutoring from his Grandma, he could now enter the fifth grade. That would mean everyone was two years older then him.
"Harry, get down here," McGonagall yelled, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. He gripped his book bag and ran down the stairs and into the little kitchen. McGonagall had made pancakes and as Harry started eating his, she started her lecture.
"Now Harry, after that disaster last time we have to be extra careful. That means no going over to other people's houses and if I find out anyone magical lives here, we're moving right away. Is that clear?"
"Yes Grandma," Harry muttered, he knew his Grandma was only trying to keep him safe, but he could take care of himself.
"Now, for your looks, you're going to have to look completely different. I've decided to make you taller, and give you blond hair and blue eyes. As for a names yours will be, Henry Porter and I'm Jill Porter."
She didn't even wait for him to nod his head, but preformed the spell. She had also chosen to be blond haired and blue eyed, though she was the same height. As always her hair was pulled back in a bun, and she wore a black dress, very much like the robes she was use to. Harry grinned, no matter what his Grandma looked like, she always had the feel of someone you don't want to mess with.
"Are we going by the same, my parents died in a car crash and you're my grandma, story?"
"Of course, now get ready."
Harry grabbed his new lunch box of the table; he had had to transfigure another Star Wars lunch boxes, because he forgot his at home again. He took the Star Wars backpack, Grandma handed him, and together they walked out the door and got into the car. Jones Lane Elementary School was only a mile away, it was a big green building, much bigger then most elementary schools Harry had been to. It was almost five times as big as the primary school in Ottery St. Catchpole, and there were four fifth grade classes.
McGonagall was going to sub for a third grade teacher who had gotten pregnant, Harry was glad he could skip the grade, so there was no chance of him getting his Grandma. They had gotten there a half hour early, so McGonagall could meet the other teachers and get to know her classroom. She had spent the last two days going over the files of the kids in her class, and was looking forward to meeting them.
Harry was in Miss. White's class, the secretary gave them directions to her classroom, and McGonagall. She told them Miss. White wouldn't be in for another fifteen minutes, so Harry and McGonagall decided to go to McGonagall's class first.
"Well this is big," McGonagall said, once she saw the room.
"Ye," Harry agreed, the room was one of the largest classrooms he had ever seen. There were at least forty desks in the room, and still there was room to move around. One wall was filled with cubs for the kid's backpacks. Another had a bookshelf, and a world map. The classroom was already decorated by the old teacher, as most of the classrooms McGonagall taught at were. Harry knew that his Grandma would add her own artwork and decorations that afternoon, and somehow he would be pulled into helping.
For the next couple of minutes Harry explored the classroom, well McGonagall arranged her desk (the other teacher had cleared it for her). Then McGonagall walked Harry down to his classroom. All ready some of the other students had started to arrive.
"Well here it is," McGonagall said stopping in front of a door with 'Miss. White' written on it. Harry could see two boys had already arrived, and an old lady, presumable the teacher, was sitting at a desk in the front. "Do you want me to come in?"
"No, Grandma," Harry said, rolling his eyes, "we go over this ever time, I can handle this myself."
"You know your way to mature for your age," McGonagall said, laughing. "Do you have the note?"
"Yes, I'll see you after school, in your classroom, bye."
"OK, I'll leaving, have a good day."
She was still laughing, as she left. Harry sighed, she did this every time. Well he wasn't really nervous, just a little worried what the other kids would think of him. 'Well it wouldn't solve anything by standing it,' Harry though, and squaring his shoulders he walked through the door.
"May I help you?" The teacher asked when she noticed Harry.
"Err, yes, I'm the new student Henry Porter."
"Oh, yes," the teacher said, comprehension dawning on her face, Harry sighed inwardly, he was glad he didn't have to explain everything to her. "I was told there would be a new student, but, how old are you Henry?"
Harry groaned, no one had warned her that he was two years ahead.
"Eight, ma'm, I'm two years ahead. I just transferred from England and they're a little ahead."
"Right, well your in luck there is a girl your age in this class. Emily Goldman, she's ahead too. Here I'll put you in the desk next to her."
Harry smiled; at least there was someone his age here. She must be really smart to have skipped two grades with out living in Europe.
By now most of the class had come in, they were all staring at Harry oddly. Harry didn't mind, he was use to this. Miss. White guided him over to a desk, next to a very pretty girl who he guessed was Emily. She was dressed in a plan purple shirt and jeans, her hair seemed to be reddish brown, and she had lots of freckles all over her face. She was reading a very big and hard looking book, so Miss. White had to clear her trough to get her attention. Emily looked up and smiled.
"Hello, Miss. White, can I help you?" She asked, then spotted Harry, she smiled at him. Harry's face turned red, though he couldn't understand why, it wasn't hot in here.
"Emily, this is Henry, he's a new student from England. He's your age, so I thought you two would like to set together. Oh, the bell's about to ring, I'll let you two get acquainted."
With that she turned and walked back to her desk, leaving a still red faced Harry behind.
"Hi," Emily said, "I'm Emily."
"I'm Ha-enry, Henry Porter."
"Bond, James Bond," Emily said laughing.
"What?" Harry asked, 'is she making fun of me, great I already look like a dork,' Harry though.
"You don't know James Bond?" Emily asked.
"No, should I," Harry asked looking confused.
"Well I guess not, I'm not really a big fan, but my brother is. It's a movie, really famous, don't you have movies in England?"
"Err, yes, but I wasn't there that long, I live with my grandma and she moves a lot."
"Oh," Emily said, there was an awkward silence then Harry asked.
"So, what is this class learning about?"
They spent the time till the bell rang talking about schoolwork. Harry didn't know why but he always seemed to go red whenever Emily smiled at him. He really liked that smile, and her. When he told his Grandma that after school had ended for the day, she started laughing.
"I think I'll let you figure this one out yourself, Harry," was all McGonagall would say on the subject. Harry wondered what was so funny about him humiliating himself in front of a really pretty, sweet, intelligent, funny, and interesting girl, but he didn't ask. He knew Grandma would just start laughing again.
And for some reason when ever he didn't want to go back to England anymore.
