The Hell Called Middle School

He was nervous; the butterflies in his stomach wouldn't go away and his hands were shacking though it wasn't at all cold. He could not remember a time when he had been this nervous. Through all the school changes, the moves, and even the time he had had to go to school in France without knowing a word of French, he had been cool and collected. It must have been the fact that he, a lowly eight-year-old, was going into 8th grade with people almost twice his age. Or the fact that he might be stuck in this area for a while, though he really didn't mind since Emily was here.

The fact was that he would be alone in a huge middle school with only Emily for company. They weren't even sure they would have the same lunch period, let alone any classes together.

Harry tried pushing these thoughts out of his mind; it would just make him even more nervous. Instead he concentrated on what to wear. He and Emily had been talking about this subject a lot the last few days; they, of course, had no clue what pre-teens wore. It would be worse for Emily, he knew, being a girl. She had decided on jeans, a plain blue t-shirt, and a jacket. Harry decided to go about the same, wearing jeans and a brown shirt. His old backpack, which featured the Star Wars characters, would stay in his closet. Instead, McGonagall had bought him a plan orange one with room enough for his new bigger books.

He was had just finished tying his shoelaces when his grandma called up to him.

"Emily is here; you had better hurry up and eat. I want to get there early."

It had been decided that Emily would ride with them to school, as her father didn't have time to do all the paperwork and things. They would get there a full hour early, so someone could show the kids and McGonagall exactly were their classes were.

The three of them ate in silence; occasionally it was broken by a nervous, "Do you have your lunch money?" from McGonagall or "Do you think this shirt makes me look too young?" from Emily.

Finally the bowls were empty and it was time to leave. Harry's stomach felt like someone had put the jelly legs jinx on in. They piled into the car for the fifteen-minute ride to the local middle school.

Highview Middle School had 1,000 student, two floors and six portables. It was by far the largest school Harry had ever attended. It looked about the same as the elementary school; Harry suspected the same designer had been used. The only real difference was the size.

McGonagall parked in the teacher's lot, remembering to hang up the ID card that prevented it from being towed.

"Are you two ready?" She asked them, her voice taking on a kinder, more human tone than her usual brisk manner.

They nodded. Harry didn't trust himself to open his mouth: he felt like he might be sick.

"Well then, we'd better go in."

She opened her door and stepped out into the cold morning. They followed.

The parking lot was almost deserted; it seemed they had arrived way ahead of time. The three trooped off across the parking lot and into the school.

They entered the main office, which was to the right of the main entrance. The first thing Harry noticed was how clean the office was. Five chairs stood against the wall, next to a large fake plant. Directly in front of them was a desk with an old blond lady sitting at it. Behind her was a hallway leading to more rooms.

"Good Morning," McGonagall said to the lady. "I'm the new teacher, Mrs. Porter, and this is my grandson Henry and his friend Emily, they're starting here."

"Oh, hello dears," the women said warmly, "yes, I was told to expect you. Here, you'll need to fill these out." She passed over a stack of papers, "while I tell these guys all about what to expect."

She turned to Harry and Emily and smiled again. "Well, as this is a little unusual, you being so young, the guidance consulter has arranged all your classes together."

Harry and Emily smile widely as that was one of the things they had been worried about, having different classes.

"Here are your schedules," she continued, passing them over, "and you have, let me see, Mrs. ... Porter for home room. Oh well, that works out nicely."

"Yes," McGonagall agreed. Harry didn't say it, but he had a sneaky suspicion his Grandma had used magic to change his homeroom.

"Oh, here's a map. If you need anything please go to the guidance counselor in her office, you'll see it on there. Well, have a good day."

It took them about five minutes to find McGonagall's room. It was square, and made of that ugly white material all schools are made of. As it had taken them so long to get there, students already sat in the desks. It was the not the first time Harry had seen this type of desks, as many of his former schools had them, but Emily stared opened mouthed at them. They were smaller than the ones at Jones Lane, with the desk part attached to the seat part.

"Wow, we're really in middle school now," Emily whispered.

When they had entered the older kids had started whispering amongst themselves, some even laughing. Then, suddenly a bell rang from far off making Harry and Emily jump, as they had never heard a bell like that before.

The rest of the students were in their seats by now, so Harry and Emily sat nervously on the edge of two near the door.

"Hello, class, I'm Professor Porter, or you can call me 'Mrs. Porter' as you do here in the States, yes?"

A blond girl, in a very short pink skirt and matching pink top had raised her hand from the back of the room.

"I just want to welcome you to Highview, Professor Porter. Are you from England?" She smiled at McGonagall with her beautifully straight white teeth.

"Yes, Miss…Hand. I moved here many years ago with my grandson, Harry, which brings me to my next point. As you will notice two new students are joining this class with me, Harry and Emily. They have skipped six grades, yes, six grades, and are starting eighth grade this semester."

The whole class now stared at Harry and Emily, who blushed deep red. 'I knew this was a bad idea' he thought.

If he had though it was bad then, he was proven wrong a hundred times by the end of the day. It was a miracle they had all classes together, or Harry would have gone and hidden under a desk. Everyone stared at them, pointing and making rude comments. They looked so out of place amongst the grown up 13 year olds, in their mini-skirts and baggy paints. Then there were the classes, Harry had always been way ahead in his classes, because of his Grandma being a teacher and a little magical help. Now, it was all way over his head.

Emily however was right on track. She was even a little too prepared for some of the classes. Harry didn't know how she did it, for he was still struggling with the basics.

"Don't worry about it," Emily said, after their Algebra class, were he hadn't understood a word, "I'll tutor you till you're top of the class."

"If you say so," Harry muttered, under his breath.

Lunch was the best part of the day by far. They got permission from the teacher on duty to go down to McGonagall's classroom and eat there. She confronted them about the other students, and whispered in Harry's ear when Emily went to the other side of the room to throw her lunch away that they would 'fix' the problem with his schoolwork at home. Meaning she'd use another easy memory spell on him, making it so he had photographic memory while he did all his homework.

The last thought Harry had before drifting of to sleep was, 'if middle school is this hard, I wonder what high school will be like.'