"Well, that was a bit rude," said Ron, breaking the silence. "I hope he lets us choose the topic for the Quiz because I chose maths, and I know my stuff, and-"

"-I chose English, and I don't know my stuff, and I bet he didn't pick me because I'm bad at maths," said Hermione.

"I got Ancient Runes, and I'm going to be good at them, and I bet he didn't pick me because I'm really bad at English. I'm going to get out of this place, and go to a real school, where they teach you magic, not to put down other subjects, but-"

"Harry, what do you want to choose?" said Ron, before Hermione could say anything more.

"Oh, I don't know. History? I've always been good at that."

"Oh? Let's go with that, then," said Ron. "I'm pretty good at history, and I think I know a bit about most of it. Let's see what old Dumbledore says."

The rest of the morning went very slowly for Harry. He wandered around the grounds, hoping that the Marauders had gone into one of the other common rooms so that he could speak to them, but they were nowhere to be found. He ended up sitting alone most of the time since no one else seemed interested in sitting near him.

At lunchtime, the students in his year gathered together in the Great Hall, as they did every lunchtime. He was about to join them when he remembered that the Marauders had been missing during the morning, and he had no idea where they were.

"Well, we're in a bit of a rush."

He looked up, to see Ron and Hermione, clutching their trays, hurrying towards the doors. He watched them go, and then he sat down at his usual table, alone again.

During the afternoon, he wandered around the grounds a bit more, trying to decide what to do. He was about to go back to the common rooms when he saw a bit of red hair down one of the side corridors. He followed it, and found an overweight girl with a mass of curly red hair, sitting on the ground, talking to a teacher.

"Yeah, but I don't want to go to a normal school. I want to go to Hogwarts. I want to learn all this awesome stuff, you know? I don't care about being good at Aurors or being ordinary, I want to be a wizard! I want to be like you! Please, please can I go to your school? I'll do anything! I'll get A's!"

The teacher, who was dressed in black robes and a purple sash, looked very unhappy.

"We are full up, Amelia. There is no room for you."

"Yeah, but I promise I'm a good student, and I'll do anything. You can interview me, and interview my family, and if you want, I'll even interview myself! Please! I want to learn at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The teacher sighed.

"I am sorry, Amelia, but we are full up. However, if you are willing to write an essay, describing why you deserve to attend Hogwarts, why this school is the best place for you, why your family agrees, and why this school is the only one you will ever want to attend, then I will consider your application, on one condition. You must write this essay yourself. I will not write it for you. You have two hours to write this essay, starting now. Good luck."

"But I don't know anything about writing! I don't even know what an essay is!"

"You're a storyteller. You can do this. Now, go."

"But what if I don't win? I mean, what if you don't like my essay or something?"

"Then you will not go to Hogwarts, and you will have wasted your two hours."

"But what if I do win? What if I write a great essay, and you still don't let me in? I'll be really sad!"

The teacher sighed again.

"If you do win, you may still have to wait a few months, while we process your application. Now, off you go."

Amelia sat down on the ground, dejected. She looked up at Harry, who was standing there.

"You heard the lady. Two hours. Go."

"Will you write my essay for me?"

"No."

"Will you write it anyway?"

"Yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Thanks."

She picked up her broom, and flew off, looking disappointed. Harry made his way back to the common rooms.

That night, Harry sat in the common room, trying to write his essay. It was going well, as well as it should have since he had already written the first section about why he wanted to go to Hogwarts. He had decided on the title, "The Educational History of Harry Potter", and he was writing about the events that led up to his acceptance into the famous school.

He had just finished writing about how his parents had met at Hogwarts, twenty years earlier, when he started getting emails from his friends.

"Hey, did you hear the news?" asked Ron. "They're letting me in!"

"I knew you'd get in," said Hermione. "You're smart, Harry. Did you hear what they're calling you? The Marauder Killer?"

Harry laughed.

"I don't think they're calling me anything. I don't think they're saying anything at all. I think they're just letting me sit in."

"I heard they're saying you were the last one to kill one of the Marauders."

"That's not what I said. I don't think I said anything about Marauders."

"You know what I mean," said Ron. "They're probably saying you're the killer because you're a freakin' weirdo."

Harry laughed. Even though it was annoying that everyone thought he was a murderer, at least it meant they weren't calling him a freakin' weirdo.

"I'm going to bed."

"Me, too."

A/N Ok thanks for reading it up to this point but since I'm moving to Australia I'm going to slow down on how many chapters I'll make.