nam daed ,no em nruT

"...During this time in the American Revolution, American wizards were used to destroy British supply units..."

Who gives a darn? Harry thought as Professor Binns rambled on. Harry seemed to be the only one disinterested in the lesson. No--wait a minute--Ron seemed to be bored out of his mind too. As Harry struggled to keep his head up, he saw Hermione make an exasperated gesture at him.

"Pay attention!" Hermione mouthed.

Yeah, right. It would be easier to pay attention to Fang's droppings outside on the school grounds than Professor Binns.

"Harry!" Ron, who was sitting next to Harry, whispered.

"What?"

Ron pulled his wand out of his pocket.

"Get yours!" Ron whispered.

Harry took his wand out.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley; no wands in class," Professor Binns admonished in a monotone.

"Yes, sir." The two boys put their wands away.

Harry, bored again, looked across the room and noticed that smoke was literally coming from Hermione's paper where she was writing. Harry didn't bother to take notes anymore; if you couldn't remember it, he figured, it wasn't worth knowing. Harry laid his head back and began to doze off; the last thing he saw before he fell asleep was Ron, his head down on his desk, peacefully snoozing.

Harry fell into a deep sleep. He began to dream, but it was like no dream he had ever had before. In his dream, he felt like he was anchored in one spot while psychedelic colors flashed and flew by him.

"Woah, retro-60s, dude!" he Americanized as the colors became slower in coming towards him. Soon, the colors stopped, and Harry was surrounded completely by a bright shade of yellow. Shortly thereafter, the yellow faded and Harry was in a white room with no windows or doors.

Harry could now move around. He studied one of the white walls with interest. He then bent over to inspect the floor when Professor Binns' voice came out of nowhere.

"You have stumbled upon my secret lair."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I fell asleep!"

"Sleep is my lair; my domain."

"Oh. My domain name is http--"

"No, you fool!" Binns said impatiently. "Not an Internet address! Sleep is my kingdom!"

"So is History of Magic a province of that or something?" Harry inquired.

Binns chuckled evilly. "You are quite cunning."

"So...can I go home now?"

"Back to the Dursley's?" Binns asked.

"I meant Hogwarts."

"You are in Hogwarts," Binns said. "You just don't know it."

With those last words, Binns' voice faded and the room disappeared, revealing a bigger room, which looked much like the dungeons at Hogwarts. Somewhere in space, Harry could here an unfamiliar voice rambling:

"Number nine; number nine; number nine; number nine..." And the voice continued.

"Woah, freaky."

Then a thought entered Harry's head; was he really in Hogwarts? With the strange voice softly yet firmly resonating through the halls, Harry made his way to where Potions class should be. When Harry reached the room, however, he found Professor Binns sitting in a chair in front of a fire, a snake on the floor beside him.

"Professor?" Harry asked.

Binns chuckled. "Yes, Harry. It is I."

"What are you doing down here?"

Binns' eyes were cold. "To finish some unfinished business."

Harry's scar began to burn; was Binns really Voldemort?

"You're not Professor Binns; You are Voldemort!" Harry said as he struggled to stay up. The pain in his head was worse than ever before.

Binns looked a bit annoyed. "Do not compare that amateur with me." Binns pulled out his wand. Harry braced for the worst. In stead of being hit with an awful curse, however, he looked to see Binns now grading papers.

"What the heck?"

"I have unfinished business; I forgot to grade these papers," Binns said as he flicked his wand at a paper, the spell automatically grading it.

"Then why is my head in such pain?" Harry said as he put a hand over his burning scar.

"Perhaps you will find the problem in a mirror." Binns handed Harry a small mirror.

Harry looked at his forehead and saw that it had the words 'kick me' written on it in black ink.

"My head would hurt too if kids kicked me in the head all day. Now be gone."

As soon as Binns said this, everything, including time itself, slowed down, stopped, and eventually started going backwards. Binns then began to talk backwards, Harry talked backwards, his scar hurt backwards, and then he made his way up the stairs backwards. The incessant 'Number nine' in the background now sounded like 'Turn me on, dead man'. Harry then realized that he was going backwards all the way to Gryffindor tower. When he reached the common room, time began to slow once again, stop, and go back to regular forward time. Harry shook his head.

"I'm confused."

Harry sat down on a chair and closed his eyes.

"Hey, Harry!" George Weasley interrupted his silence.

"What?"

"We decided to kick you off the Quidditch team and put in Draco Malfoy at Seeker. You know that whole affair between you and Cho won't be good publicity. Well, see you later."

Harry sat stunned.

"Malfoy is a Slytherin!" Harry shouted at George's back.

"Oh, that reminds me. We acquired him in a trade, so you have to go to Slytherin. You must be out of Gryffindor and into Slytherin by tonight at eight."

Harry felt a tear well up in his eye. He looked at his watch. It was seven fifty-eight PM.

As soon as Harry got up to pack, everything began to go in slow motion again. Everything then began to spin, and soon the room around him had faded, and Harry found himself at the Sorting Ceremony. The weird thing was that he was sitting under the hat.

"Now remember, after the sorting of the fifth years, we will sort the sixth years," McGonagall was saying.

What's going on? Harry thought worriedly. He could hear the Sorting Hat talking to him.

"Ah, so you're Harry Potter?" the hat said.

"I've had you on my head twice before," Harry responded curtly.

"Whatever you say. Now where to put you..."

"Why don't you just put me in Gryffindor like you did before?" Harry asked.

"I don't know kid; I'm as confused as you are. I think Dumbledore is losing his marbles."

Harry sat there, the crowd silently waiting for the Sorting Hat's decision.

"Well, if you're not sure," the Sorting Hat suddenly said, "better be...RAVENPUFFINDOR!"

The crowd burst into applause.

"What the heck does that mean?" Harry asked McGonagall as he took the hat off and got off the stool.

"It means you get to go into the Goblet of Fire."

"What?!"

"You heard me Potter," McGonagall said, leading Harry to the Goblet of Fire that was now set up in front of the teachers' table, behind the Sorting Hat stool.

The two finally reached the Goblet, but then Harry stopped and pointed at the white line drawn around the Goblet.

"I can't cross the line unless I'm seventeen, remember?"

"Who cares? Let's go." McGonagall dragged Harry across the line, but then both of them were thrown across the room, suddenly growing long, white beards.

"You're not seventeen yet?!" Harry asked McGonagall loudly.

McGonagall looked a bit confused herself. And then, in an instant, the whole Great Hall, the whole school, the whole world just disappeared, and Harry was floating out in the middle of a black void. Though nothing was visible and the space was pitch black, Harry was still illuminated with some mysterious light that radiated from nowhere. He could breath fine, even though he couldn't feel any air, and his body seemed to be flying at great speeds as well as staying utterly still at the same time. And then he flew downwards and hit a grassy field. The impact was not great, however, and he got up and brushed himself off.

He looked around and at once saw that he was at the Quidditch pitch. In the air, he saw the Ravenclaw team practicing.

Suddenly spotting him, Cho flew down from where she was flying and dismounted her broom.

"How dare you spy on us?" she screamed.

"What?"

"Get out of here before I curse you!"

"I'm going!" And Harry ran away.

When he got to the entrance to Hogwarts, he bent over and rested for a moment. He then opened the door and walked in--to the History of Magic class.

"You are late," Binns said as Harry looked around worriedly.

"You--you were in the dungeon," Harry panted, pointing at Professor Binns.

"I think you need a time out, Mr. Potter. Go stand in the corner."

"What?"

"You heard me; get."

Harry headed glumly to the corner. However, whenever he took a step towards the corner, the corner would move a bit further away. Harry took a few more big steps to try to catch up with the wall, but it only moved faster. After a few seconds of that, Harry began to run towards the corner; first at a jog, and then as fast as he could--the corner continued to keep itself four feet in front of him.

"Mr. Potter, stop fooling around."

Harry turned and saw that the rest of the room had remained unchanged; as though the corner was moving away from the room but the room was...

"I'm feeling sick, Professor Binns. May I be dismissed so I can see Madam Pomfrey?"

"Fine. Goodbye."

Harry left the room out of the same door he had entered; the difference was that now the door led to its regular hallway.

"Weird..." Harry remarked as he continued to walk towards the hospital wing.

When Harry reached the hospital wing, he opened the door that led into the main infirmary; but instead of finding the neat and tidy hospital, he found Hagrid's hut, placed neatly in the middle of the hospital.

Hagrid came out of his hut. "Harry! Would yeh care for a cup o' tea?"

"Uh..." Harry wasn't sure whether to run or to accept the invitation. "Okay, Hagrid."

Hagrid went into his hut and Harry followed. As Harry entered Hagrid's hut, Harry noticed that the place seemed to be a bit...different. Hagrid's hut now looked like some Muggle high school: halls lined with lockers, many numbered rooms, and even a door that had the words 'Administrative Office' on it. Harry turned to see that he and Hagrid had entered the school not through Hagrid's door, but through a locker.

"Right this way, then," Hagrid said as he headed down a hall. Hagrid was taking his usual big steps; Harry almost had to run to keep up. But then, it became evident that Hagrid was purposely going fast, until he had turned the corner ahead of Harry with amazing speed. And as Harry tuned the corner, he found himself once more in the History of Magic class.

"Mr. Potter, sit down," professor Binns said. Harry took a seat next to Ron. Harry looked behind him to look at the hall that he had come down to get into the History of Magic class, but it was no longer there; it was just a wall, like ordinarily.

Professor Binns then continued his lecture. And, as usual, Harry became so bored that he fell asleep at his desk...

"Wake up, Harry!" Hermione said as she punched Harry in the shoulder.

Harry woke with a start. "What?!"

"You fell asleep. We've got to go to Potions now."

"Yeah," Harry said, yawning and stretching, "let's go."

But as he walked through the dungeons to get to Potions, he couldn't help but hear a small voice in the back of his mind:

"Number nine; number nine; number nine; number nine; number nine..."