J.K. Rowling writes more than me. I'm not saying that to be pedantic, of course she writes more than me. She has written twelve books over the course of 21 years, not counting short stories and film scripts. Over the course of a little more than three years from 1997 to 2000 she wrote Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. That means that she wrote more than 1,400 pages over that span, half of those coming over the course of one year, considering that the US copy of Goblet of Fire totaled 734 pages. But that's not why I say that J.K. Rowling writes more than me. When I say that she writes more than me, I mean that her chapters are significantly longer than mine. I tend to follow a more traditional concise style. In one of my favorite books, The Picture of Dorian Gray, the first chapter is a little less than twelve pages long, the second chapter a little more than fourteen and so on. I tend to follow this kind of style of multiple chapters of average length because my writing has more of gradual build than Rowling's, though she herself is pretty good at pacing. I do this because I feel that this allows for a greater exploration of emotions and allows me to properly incorporate necessary quiet moments that allows for an expression of subtle emotions. Rowling however, well the first Harry Potter book was 306 pages long and had seventeen chapters in it, which is a little less than twenty pages per chapter. Combine it with my additions and changes to the story and you suddenly have a chapter that is about fourteen pages followed by another of twenty three pages. Now, as to those changes, I will follow the dialogue and actions of a scene for basic structure, but I will not copy it wholesale (as was shown when I replaced Scabbers biting Goyle's finger to Marie crushing his hand). Doing so is lazy and I prefer to have my own words when I'm writing, if it's adding dialogue because of a different point of view or for the sake of a joke that fits with the characters, changing the language so that I can describe the same scene in a different way or just removing lines that aren't needed for where I want to take the story. I also edit lines if I feel that the grammar interferes with the pace of the dialogue or if I just wanted to use a different word with the same meaning to convey an emotion. Speaking of which, the chapter following this one will take us back to Peach Creek, as I intend to jump back and forth between there and Hogwarts every few chapters, maybe even every other chapter due to the time skips. If I just focus on the wizarding world, the drama I want to cultivate would be rather unsubstantial. I don't want this story to be just different character in a new setting, I feel that you lose something narratively if you do that. I want to see what their absence causes back in the place that they came from, and I hope that you do as well. I do not own Harry Potter or Ed, Edd and Eddy. They are owned by J.K. Rowling, AT&T and Warner Media.

The Sorting Hat

Professor McGonagall was just like she remembered from their last meeting. Same hat, same emerald green robes and same stern face that looked like she just ate a whole lime. Marie glared at her, not forgetting how she ditched her outside of Ollivander's. "The firs' years Professor McGonagall." the giant said cheerily. "Thank you Hagrid. I'll take them from here." She pulled the door wide open, showing the students an enormous entrance hall, large enough to fit four trailers on top of each other and still have room for seven more. The stone walls, as smooth as polished sandstone, were lined with dozens of torches, brazing with soothing warm light that bounced pleasantly off the finely carved marble staircase in the center of the atrium and the placid faces of the nervous children.

They followed McGonagall across the hall, passing by a large ornate door on their right, where the drone of hundreds of voices buzzed through the door as audibly as if a single person was whispering into their ear. Marie's stomach dropped into her feet as she followed the crowd through a small door that lead off of the hall into an equally empty chamber. The students crowded in, standing shoulder to shoulder and front to rear as they were packed in like sardines. "Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said nobly. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is an important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within family."

Marie tuned out at this point. McGonagall had already told her most of this stuff a few days ago, so she felt that she didn't need to listen this time. Besides, this info wasn't really important to her anyway. She instead looked around the crowd, saw Ron trying to rub off the particularly stubborn bit of dirt from his nose, Harry was trying to flatten his hair and Neville was trying to fix his cloak. She looked to her left and saw that the blonde girl from earlier also wasn't paying attention either. Clearly she had been told about this before as well.

"Hey, you're Daphne right?" The girl looked over at her. "Last time I checked Yank. Good to see you remembered." she replied emotionlessly. "Right, so do you know how we'll be sorted? 'Cause I think having all of us take a personality test would take too long." Daphne looked up to see McGonagall had finished and left the room. "No. I tried asking my parents about it, but they said it was a tradition that a new student would be surprised by the ceremony." "That is completely asinine." "Isn't it?" Marie looked around again. "Well I hope that it isn't too difficult, because I'd think I'd come up short against Hermione over there." Hermione was muttering really fast the names and techniques of all the spells she knew, wondering which one she'd needed. "Unlikely, otherwise there wouldn't be that many students, even if they all came from pureblood families." Marie looked at the door, wondering when McGonagall was going to come back so that the rest of his classmates stopped stewing in their own sweat.

"Well, after everything, it's not like they're going to be able to surprise us any mo...WHAT THE SHIT?!" About twenty ghosts had streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and semi transparent, they gilded across the room talking to one another and barely glancing at the students as they were too caught up in their debate. "Forgive and forget I say. We ought to give him a second chance-". "My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name you know, he's not even really a ghost." They finally noticed the students, staring up at them with disbelieving terror. "I say, what are you all doing here?" one of the ghosts that had a prominent neck ruff and tights asked. "Oh nothing much," Marie said numbly. "Just trying not to wet ourselves in fear." "Ah, new students!" One ghost that looked like a fat Francisian Friar exclaimed delightedly. "About to be sorted I suppose?" "Indeed Mr. Friar." Daphne had recovered from the earlier shock rather quickly and was speaking carefully and diplomatically, almost like a princess. "And I have to say that I am honored to meet you my good friar." "Well my good lady, I hope to see you and a few others in Hufflepuff! My old house you know!" "Move along now, the Sorting Ceremony's about to start." McGonagall had returned. The ghosts left through the wall one by one, their faces showing looks of disappointment.

"Now form a line and follow me." Marie found herself jostled by the crowd and wound up behind Ron and in front of Daphne as the line exited the chamber, crossed the hall and entered through the double doors that they had passed earlier.

Marie had only seen more marvelous halls and rooms in photos she had seen online or in art books. Thousands of candles floated above four long tables that stretched the room from end to end, their glow sparkling off of the hundreds of gold goblets and plates that dotted them. Hundreds of students stared at the first years as McGonagall lead them down the central aisle towards a long table that the other teachers were sitting at. Above them a serine canopy of stars and the pale moon shone down on them from the ceiling. "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History." she heard Hermione whisper and she certainly believed her, as she watched Bootes the Herdsman move slowly behind a cloud.

McGonagall stopped them once they reached the front of the hall, leaving them exposed to the judging eyes of the older students and the silvery ghosts that sat with them. She placed a four legged stool in front of them, on top of which she placed an old, frayed, muddy, patched, crusted and battered wizard's hat. 'Are we supposed to get a rabbit out of it?' Marie thought as she stared at the hat with the rest of the students in confusion. Then the hat twitched, ripped open a seam at the base so that it was like a mouth and started to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can clap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave of heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a thinking cap!"

Most of the hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song, as if they had been the audience at the 1985 Live Aid listening to Queen. Marie however could do little else but stare incredulously at the hat as it bowed to each of the tables before becoming still again. "So we've just got to try on the hat! I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll." Ron whispered angrily. "I'll help make it look like an accident." Marie whispered back, not knowing if she was joking or not.

McGonagall rolled out a long scroll. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." she said "Abbott, Hannah!" A pink faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled nervously out of line, shoved the hat over her head and jumped up on the stool. After a few seconds the roar of "Hufflepuff" came from the hat's mouth. The table on the line's near right cheered and clapped as Hannah skipped to an open spot on one of the benches, the Fat Friar waving to her as she sat down. "Bones, Susan!" "Hufflepuff" the hat shouted once more as Susan rushed down to sit next to Hannah. "Boot, Terry" "Ravenclaw!" This time the table on the near left applauded, with several Ravenclaws even standing up to shake his hand as he joined them. He was followed shortly afterward by "Brocklehurst, Mandy." (a name that Marie had to try really hard not to laugh at), then "Brown, Lavender" went to Gryffindor, which sat at a table on the far left, followed by "Bulstrode, Millicent" being sorted into Slytherin, which had its table on the far right and whom looked like a collective bunch of either rich snobs or inbred Habsburgs.

"You really want to go over there?" she asked Daphne, gesturing with her head so that she didn't draw any attention ("Corner, Michael." "Ravenclaw!"). "It has nothing to do with what I want." ("Cornfoot, Stephen." "Ravenclaw!") "I have to unhold the prestige of the family, as is expected of me." ("Crabbe, Vincent.", "Slytherin!") "Yeah, but don't you want to do what you want to do?" Marie asked as "Davis, Tracey." was sorted into Slytherin. "You know, be your own woman? Or are you worried about what your parents would say?" "Not particularly." Daphne replied as "Entwhistle, Kevin." was sent to Hufflepuff. "I know that they'd support me no matter what I do. I just feel like I owe it to them that I keep up the family tradition." ("Finch-Fletchley, Justin." "Hufflepuff!") "Besides, I grew up around most of those imbeciles over there, I think I can handle them." "But do you think that's the best place for you? I mean you have the ambition part down, but I just don't see you wanting to deal with them." ("Finnigan, Seamus." "Gryffindor!") "I certainly wouldn't, but I'm going to have to deal with these idiots in the Wizengamot in the future." ("Goldstein, Anthony." "Ravenclaw!") "Might as figure out how to get one over on them now instead of later." ("Goyle, Gregory." "Slytherin!") "Well I wish you the best. Lord knows if I end up there half of them would in intensive care in a week." ("Granger, Hermione." "Gryffindor!") "Yes, I don't think my house would work for you." she said as she was called up. "I hope wherever you do end up you make a name for yourself. I don't want my perception of you to be wrong." She then waltzed up to the stool and was sorted into Slytherin as soon as the hat touched her head.

Marie suddenly realized that her turn was coming up as McGonagall got closer and closer to the K's. "Hopkins, Wayne." sounded like a bell in her mind as he was sorted into Hufflepuff and the utterance of "Jones, Megan." felt like a stone being shoved into her throat. She didn't even realize that she had started up to the hat after it had sent Megan to join Wayne in Hufflepuff until she felt McGonagall's hand on her shoulder. "Miss Kanker, as much as I appreciate your expediency and while you were the next name on the list, do try not to make an assumption like this again. I don't want you to embarrass yourself by accident." Marie dully nodded before dropping the hat over her eyes and sitting on the stool. 'Hmm, what have we here? Such a conflicted mind. Definitely a lot of ambition and cunning, but they're not focused towards your own gain. Astoundingly loyal and hardworking, but only when you want to put in the effort. And remarkable intellect, but with little desire to prove it. In fact your mind seems to focus entirely on trying to prove yourself to one person, hmm, let's take a look see who that might be.' 'Hey, no! Bug off you talking petri dish! That's private!' 'Oh come now, I'm not going to reveal anything personal, I would've been set on fire long ago if I did. Let's see here ...oooohhhhh. A boy, well this is a first. Never knew that someone this young would have such an attachment this strong.' 'Make any comment about this and I swear that I'll repurpose you as a jock strap. I don't care how long it takes.' 'Oh ho! Fiery aren't we? Well I know where you're going.' "Gryffindor!"

Marie shoved the hat off her head and walked away quickly before she was tempted to stamp on the hat before sitting down next to Hermione, barely noticing her black tie changing to a striped red and gold one. She looked up to watch the rest of the sortings, but she didn't really care whether "Moon, Lily." wound up in Slytherin or if "Macmillan, Ernie." was placed in Hufflepuff (though she did chuckle when Neville ran to the Gryffindor table with the Sorting Hat still on his head and had to go back and return it), she was mainly waiting to see whatever fate would happen to her kinda-but-not-really friends. Both "Patil, Pavarti" and "Perks, Sally-Anne" joined the Gryffindor table while the pale faced moron joined his goons in Slytherin, followed by "Nott, Theodore." and "Parkinson, Pansy." When "Potter, Harry." was called, she was slightly irritated by the buzz of muttering that pounded her ear drums as Harry spent more than a minute under the hat before he was sent to Gryffindor with a standing ovation (the Weasley twins cheering "WE GOT POTTER! WE GOT POTTER!"). She grabbed him and dumped him right next to her and opposite the ruffled ghost, who patted his arm in encouragement. "This is gonna be our lives for a while, isn't it?" "Unfortunately." Harry muttered, embarrassment evident on his tomato red face.

Luckily for them the sorting was nearly over. "Rivers, Oliver." went to Ravenclaw, followed by "Turpin, Lisa.", "Runcorn, Eliza." joined Gryffindor along with "Thomas, Dean." and "Roper, Sophie." and "Smith, Sally." went to Hufflepuff before a green looking "Weasley, Ron." was called to the stool. Within a ten seconds he was sitting across from them as he too joined Gryffindor. Finally, "Zabini, Blaise" was sorted into Slytherin, McGonagall rolled up the parchment and took the hat and stool away. With the school vibrating in anticipation, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet, his beaming, grandfatherly smile shining through his thick, silvery beard as he spread his arms open, welcoming them all with his very image.

"Welcome, welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" his booming yet soothing voice rang throughout the hall. "Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddmeat! Tweak! Thank you!" He sat back down and bizarrely, almost the entire school applauded. "Is he-a bit mad?" Harry asked Percy uncertainly. "Mad?" Percy said airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?" Marie, who had been paying attention to the conversation as she needed the answer just as much as Harry, turned her attention back to the table and her eyes widened in shock. The dishes were piled high with food. Mounds of roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb, sausages, bacon and steak. Stacks of boiled, mashed and roast potatoes, peas, carrots, fries, green beans, asparagus, roasted and steamed broccoli, peppermint humbugs and roasted zucchini. Bowls of soup, chowder, Yorkshire pudding, gravy, ketchup, stew, mustard, baked beans and dressing. The smells that radiated from the table moved and meshed together in a tapestry of tastes and sounds could overwhelm anyone and for someone that would sometimes have to survive off of only two meals a day, this was too much for her.

"Marie," Harry asked tentatively. "Are you crying?" "It's so beautiful." Ron looked at her weirdly before pouring a glass of water and throwing it in her face. "Thanks Ron." Marie said sarcastically. "Don't mention it." Ron then dived into some chicken wings, ignoring the glare Marie was leveling at him. The growl of her stomach reminded of her hunger and quickly joined Ron and the rest of the school in feasting.

"That does look good." The ruffled ghost remarked sadly as he watched Harry cut a piece of steak. "Can't you-?" "I haven't eaten in nearly five hundred years." he replied mournfully. "I don't need to of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower." "I know who you are!" Ron exclaimed suddenly. "My brother told me about you. You're Nearly Headless Neck!" "I would prefer you call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-" the ghost started stiffly before he was interrupted by the sandy haired Seamus Finnegan. "Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?" Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, almost as if he had been personally insulted. "Like this." he said irritably. He then seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell off his shoulder as if it were on a hinge.

It was clear that whoever tried to behead him had either been really old, really weak, really young, had not properly sharpened the axe that was used, or was ordered to not do it right out of sadistic spite. The flesh looked red and raw, as if it had been freshly cut. Various parts of the neck had small cuts on it from where the axe missed, exposing cut veins and bits of cartilage. The spine was scratched and chipped, protruding from the center of the neck stump like a tumor. The only reason that his head was still attached to the torso was about two centimeters of skin and sinew that had been left behind, a testimate to when the axeman finally got sick of chopping Nick's head and said "Screw it. It'll do." Most of the students reeled back in shock, disgust, horror and surprise. Marie wasn't one of them. "Do you do birthday parties, I'm asking for a friend." Nick winked at Marie, looking quite pleased with himself, and returned his head to its former position. "So-new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. The Slytherins have got the cup the last six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's almost unbearable." At the confused looks he got, he pointed to the Slytherin table. "He's the Slytherin ghost." And what a ghost he was. Gaunt and miserable looking with hollow, black staring eyes and robes stained with silvery blood, he looked like he wouldn't be out of place in a gothic horror film. He was sitting next to Malfoy, who looked like he wanted to desperately be somewhere else. "He did he get covered in blood?" Seamus asked in macabre interest. "I never asked." Nick replied before moving down the table.

The feasting lasted for sometime, Marie finding herself having seconds of everything, even the salad, before they stopped having the main meal, allowing the food to fade from the table to be replaced with delectable desserts. Towers of ice creams of many different flavors, bowls of jello and pudding, plates of cakes, tarts and pastries and tins of pies covered the table, a dentist's nightmare made real.

Marie was helping herself to a slice of cheesecake as the conversation transitioned to a talk about families. "I'm half and half." Seamus said through a spoonful of mousse. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." "Seems kind of dangerous." Marie commented. "That's not exactly something that should be kept hidden until after the honeymoon." "Yeah well, Dad says that he thinks of it as Mom's special surprise." The rest of the group laughed and even Marie couldn't help but giggle at Seamus's wording.

"What about you Neville?" Ron asked as he helped himself to some fruit tart. "Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch, but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages." he said miserably. "My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off guard and force some magic out of me-he pushed me of the end of Blackpool pier once. I nearly drowned. But nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out an upstairs window by my ankles when my Great Aunt Enid offered him a meringue and he accidently let go. But I bounced all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should've seen their faces when I got in here-they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad." "You're family is kind of messed up Nev." Marie said harshly. "If I were in your position, I would've thrown the toad in your Uncle's face if he almost killed me twice. And kicked him in the crotch before calling social services." Neville blushed. "They just want me to do my best." Marie scoffed.

"What about you then?" Seamus asked. "I never met a Yank that wasn't a tourist before. What's your story?" Marie sipped a goblet of pumpkin juice, trying to ignore the eager glances that were now directed at her. "Actually rather similar to yours. Just switch the genders around and make my mom an American and it's not that different." "Oh come on." Ron said tactlessly. "You were openly crying before the feast just by looking at the food. There has to be more than that." He drew back in fear at Marie's glare and any further conversation about her family ended.

Eventually, the desserts too disappeared and the hall fell silent as Dumbledore rose to his feet once again. "Ahem-just a few more words now that you're all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the foreston the ground is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." His eyes flashed over to the Weasley twins, missing the mischievous glint in Marie's eyes that grew with everything that she wasn't allowed to do. 'Gonna do that.' "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes or in the corridors." 'Definitely doing that.' "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." A few people laughed at that. ``Oh come on, now you're just begging me to do it. You even gave me a loophole to exploit.'

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" At Dumbledore's impassioned announcement, the other teachers smiles became grimaces. Dumbledore began joyfully, in a sporadic solo, before a confused mish mash of different voices and styles joined in one of the corniest numbers Marie had ever seen, let alone been part of.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts.

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Everybody finished the song at different times. Some finished as quickly as possible, almost as if trying to get it over with, others finished by holding out the last note like an aria and still others attempted to give the lyrics a melancholy emotion of a folk song. Eventually only the Weasley twins and Marie were left singing, the Weasley's twins singing the song like a slow funeral march and Marie a plodding and growling death metal tune, each competing with each other to see which of them can finish last. Dumbledore conducted the last few verses with his wand as the three of them came to the last note. They all held out the last note as long as they could, with Marie barely winning in the end, resulting in the hall erupting in applause. "Ah, music." Dumbledore said as he wiped tears from his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

Percy lead Marie and the other first years through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. Most of them were tired, yawning and dragging their feet as the moved down corridors, cut through secret passages and climbed numerous flights of stairs. Marie herself wasn't much better, as she felt her eyelids droop further and further with every step. Her eyes glazed over and it was likely she would've fallen asleep on her feet when the crowd stopped. A bundle of walking sticks were floating in the air above them and when Percy tried to move past them they started to throw themselves at him. "Peeves," Percy whispered reassuringly. "A Poltergeist." He strode forward and shouted "Peeves, show yourself." A loud raspberry released into the air, mocking Percy. "Do you want me to get the Bloody Baron?" There was a loud pop and a little man with wicked, dark black eyes, slicked back black hair, a wide, evil grin and pointed ears appeared, floating cross-legged in mid air, clutching the walking sticks. "Oooooooh! Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He cackled evilly. He swooped down causing them all to duck. "Go away Peeves, or the Baron will hear about this! I mean it!" Percy barked. Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the sticks on Neville's head, his progress marked by the decreasing sounds rattling coats of armor.

"You want to watch out for Peeves." Percy warned as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are." At the very end of the corridor they where on hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress. "Password?" she asked. "Caput Draconis." Percy answered. The portrait swung open to reveal a round hole in the wall. They scrambled through it into the Gryffindor common room, a cozy room with soft armchairs, a couch that was situated in front of a crackling fire, several mahogany desks and work tables and wall tapestries of pale red and muted gold.

Percy directed the boys to one of the doorways exiting the room and the girls through another. Too tired to complain, Marie followed her new roommates up one final flight of stairs to a dorm room. There were six twin sized poster beds with deep red curtains. Their trunks had been brought up, Marie's gray plastic trunk clearly juxtaposed with the others. Too tired to talk, and barely awake enough to think, the girls changed into their night clothes and fell into a deep, uneventful sleep.

Sorry that this took so long to come out. The holiday season is ramping up and since one of our associates quit I had to start taking on a heavier workload. I'll try to get the next chapter out before Christmas, as it is an important one. I'm taking us back to the muggle world to see how Double-D and the rest of the cul-de-sac kids are doing, really hoping you enjoy that one. After that, the next two chapters will be at Hogwarts, then another Muggle one and then two more chapters and then one more and so forth. I may change that if I decide that I need to have more time at Hogwarts for more character development or if I want to spend more time at the cul-de-sac, but this is that rough outline that I have in my head right now. Hope to see you again soon, and goodnight.