Disclaimer: Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Chapter 3

Within seconds a large crowd of people had assembled at the front of the train. Many had looks of revulsion on their faces as they stared at the grotesque sight lying on the tracks. Harry, Hermione and Draco pushed through the mass of students, gasping in horror at the sight that greeted them. Ron's carcass could no longer be recognized as a human body, it was simply a bloody, headless lump. Blood was splattered all over the tracks and the train's wheels were clogged with something that looked terribly like internal organs.

"Ewww! That's gross!" shouted Harry and covered his face with his hands.

"Harry, how can you be so cruel? He was your best friend!" Hermione cried as tears streamed down her face.

"Best friend? He wasn't my best friend. These are my best friends!" the delusional wizard explained as he pulled half a dozen crudely made finger puppets out of his pocket and began to reenact Hamlet with them.

Draco shot an incredulous glance at Harry before walking over to comfort the grief-stricken witch. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but at that precise moment there were five consecutive bangs as Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape and Sprout simultaneously popped out of the air. Dumbledore strode quickly over to the cadaver and bent down to examine it, when he straitened up he was paler than usual, but his voice was steady when he spoke.

"Minerva, I have lifted the wards around the school for the next half hour. Please create a Portkey and transport the students, I will return shortly."

"Yes, Headmaster." McGonagall replied in a slightly shaky tone, then took off her hat and muttered "Portus". She then barked to all the students, "Right, now come five at a time. No pushing, come on now!"

Harry, his finger puppets, Hermione and Draco grouped around the hat with Neville, Luna and Professor McGonagall. Five seconds later they disappeared and found themselves standing in the Entrance Hall.

"THAT WAS FUN!" shouted Harry with glee, "Let's do it again!"

"Mr. Potter, are you quite alright?" McGonagall exclaimed, alarmed.

"I'll explain later, Professor." Hermione said quickly and Draco nodded in agreement.

"Alright then, if you're sure." She commented, obviously unconvinced, "I'll just start transporting the other students." And with a crack she was gone. The four sane students marched silently into the Great Hall, attempting to tune out the odd noises the mad raven-haired wizard was somehow emitting.

"He sounds like a cat caught in a dryer." Luna commented airily once they had taken about five steps into the hall. Nobody responded to this odd statement and Luna shrugged, heading off to the Ravenclaw table. Draco also peeled of from the group to get to his own table where he sat, looking grim and forlorn. This left Neville and Hermione to usher Harry to a seat where he happily pulled out his puppets again, this time acting out The Phantom of the Opera. At first, Neville watched with enthusiastic enjoyment, even singing along at some parts then, realizing what he was doing, blushed and looked away hurriedly.

Slowly, the Great Hall began to fill as students entered (even the first years because, though it went against custom, it was thought best for them to hear Dumbledore's announcement.), all but the Slytherins with somber expressions on their faces. The cheerful start-of-term buzz of conversation was absent and a sad kind of silence hung over the room, broken only by Harry's talented finger puppets and the occasional sob. Finally, the teachers filed in and Hermione was surprised to see Tonks among their number. They took their seats and when the Hall's attention was focused on the Head Table, Dumbledore stood up and spoke, "As all of you know, a student was tragically taken from us this evening. Ron Weasley, a seventh year student of Gryffindor house was hit by the train-"

"Was squashed more like it!" chortled Harry, "It was brilliant, yet rather yucky…I almost tossed my biscuits!"

Dumbledore shot Harry a look that managed to be confused, startled and angry all at the same time before continuing. "But this horrible occurrence did not happen by accident; Ron was pushed out of the train, murdered." Gasps and stunned expressions could be seen all around the room along with surprised cries of "Who?" and "Why?" The old wizard waited until the silence resumed before going on, "If anyone has any information regarding this crime I would urge them to speak to me or any teacher. Now, though this is a night of sorrow, I have an announcement to make before the Sorting begins. I would like you all to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Tonks!" The applause were less then enthusiastic as most people's minds were still focused on Ron's death, but Tonks didn't seem to take it personally and gave a sort of half-smile at the students. "Now," boomed Dumbledore, "let the Sorting begin!"

Hermione didn't have much time to pay attention to the Sorting, for Harry was very excited at the prospect of a talking hat. He immediately leapt up and would have run over to converse with the magical headwear if Hermione had not thrown her arms around his middle and forcefully shoved him back into his seat. Then, when he realized the hat was singing, instantly wanted to join in. Unfortunately, he could not quite understand the Hat's lyrics, so settled for half-humming and half-shouting the first random words that come to his mind. This caused the Sorting Hat's song to be riddled with odd words such as toothpaste, coffee, llama, turnip and peregrine falcon. Hermione buried her head in her hands; this was not turning out to be an enjoyable day.

A/N: Yay! I got to write a fairly bloody scene, those are always fun… Well, the chapter was about as long as my previous two put together and then some, so that's a good thing. Once again, thanks for the reviews and I hope you feel like writing more!

Note on disclaimer: The disclaimer is from Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem, Kubla Kahn and I really like the poem so I just felt like putting this in…