Jimmy

Chapter 8: Starlight, Star Bright

"Straighten up your hat, Lewis."

"Sarai, take that butterfly out of your hair."

"Evan, button your shirt."

"Your cloak is inside-out, Minnie. Fix it, please."

"Lewis, I told you to straighten up your hat!"

Three schools of magic--Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and Salem--were coming to Hogwarts for another intercollegiate tournament. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, actually, were already there, waiting outside with the Hogwarts students. The Hogwarts teachers were busily making last-minute adjustments to the castle décor. They had left the prefects to settle the students. And a few of the first years weren't quite in a settling mood.

"Marcus! Wayne! Stop fighting immediately!"

Harry rubbed his temples, looking exhausted. Hermione put a comforting hand on his shoulder. One of the first years noticed Harry's tired expression and instantly shushed her classmates. Harry gave her a grateful half-smile.

Eventually, everyone settled down, but still Salem was not in sight. "Where could they be?" Hermione whispered to Harry.

Harry started to answer, but just then he heard something. He put up a hand. "Shh! Did you hear that?"

Everyone strained to listen. "It sounds like a drum cadence," commented the first year student who had quieted the others.

After a couple seconds, faint voices could be heard singing something in the distance:

"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;

He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;

He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword;

His truth is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on."

There was a brief drum cadence intermission, and then the voices came again, distinctly female this time:

"I have seen Him in the watch fires of a hundred circling camps

They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;

I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps;

His day is marching on."

The male voices jumped in for the refrain, and Harry began to understand that everyone sang the refrains:

"Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His day is marching on."

After another interlude, male voices sang alone, somewhat louder than the females:

"I have read a fiery Gospel writ in burnished rows of steel;

"As ye deal with My contemners, so with you My grace shall deal";

Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with His heel,

Since God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Since God is marching on."

Surely that would be the end? But no, another set of voices sang out, these obviously the younger singers in the group:

"He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;

He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat;

Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet;

Our God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Our God is marching on."

Now it was the older singers who sang by themselves:

"In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,

With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:

As He died to make men holy, let us live to make men free;

While God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! While God is marching on."

And suddenly, a flag came into view...then a flautist, a trumpeter, two drummers...and row upon row of students, marching in smart formation and singing at the top of their lungs:

"He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave,

He is wisdom to the mighty, He is honor to the brave;

So the world shall be His footstool, and the soul of wrong His slave,

Our God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Our God is marching on."

They were about halfway across the grounds as they finished. The Hogwarts students stared at them, dumbfounded, as the teachers joined them and stared as well. The drummer played two more bars of cadence. Then the flautist raised her flute and played two or three bars of a piece. The trumpeter played the same thing when she finished. And then, the students sang again:

"When Johnny comes marching home again--hurrah! Hurrah!--

When Johnny comes marching home again--hurrah! Hurrah!--

Our aunts will cheer, our uncles shout,

Our children they will all turn out,

And we'll all feel gay when

Johnny comes marching home."

That song carried them the rest of the way to the Hogwarts castle gate. They marched in place until the last of the students had joined the pack. Then the drummer played a different cadence--a halt cadence, Harry assumed--and the Salem students stopped at once. The waiting Hogwarts students applauded.

A kind-looking, smiling teacher stepped forward and held out her hand. "Good evening, Headmaster," she said warmly.

Dumbledore smiled as well, and shook her hand. "Good evening, Headmistress Larson."

Harry blinked in surprise. Was this the headmistress of Salem? She couldn't be much older than twenty.

Headmistress Larson turned to her students and nodded smartly, then led them inside. The other students followed them inside. The Durmstrang students seated themselves at the Slytherin table, the Beauxbatons students at the Ravenclaw table. The Hogwarts students took their seats as well.

The Salem students looked around for a while, then finally seated themselves at the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore welcomed everybody and opened the feast, and everyone began to eat. Several of the dishes were decidedly foreign.

The boy sitting across from Harry and Hermione leaned across the table and grinned. "Hiya! I'm Robbie, Robbie Martin. What's your name?"

Harry smiled back, although his was more like a mask. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione added. "Nice to meet you, Robbie."

Down the table, a girl with the same dark brown hair as Robbie leaned across the table to talk to Ginny. Another girl started to say something to Ginny, then noticed the curly-haired girl and turned away.

"Who's that girl down there?" Hermione asked, curious.

Robbie glanced down. "The brown-haired girl is my sister Reannon. I don't know the girl she's talking to..."

"That's Ginny Weasley," Hermione answered. "I was talking about the girl on the other side of Ginny. Why'd she turn away like that?"

Robbie shook his head. "Oh, that's Rebecca. She doesn't like us."

"Us?" repeated Harry.

"We call ourselves the R's--me, Reannon, my girlfriend Rachel, my best friend Ryan, his brother Rudyard, and Rudyard's girlfriend Rose. We asked Rebecca to join when we formed the group--Ryan, Rachel, and I were first years, so was Rebecca--but she said no. Just no. Didn't give a reason or anything, just refused. I don't know why."

"Maybe she doesn't like being defined by her name," suggested Hermione.

The boy next to Robbie, a boy who looked so much like Robbie he could've been his brother, broke in. "She's got a sort of lisp. She has problems with her R's and didn't want to be constantly embarrassed trying to say our names. 'S why she hangs out with Thomas and Luke and Magdalene and all of them--no R's." He held out his hand to Harry. "I'm Ryan."

"Harry. Nice to meet you," Harry said, shaking Ryan's hand. The Salem kids seemed really nice. Harry looked forward to getting to know them.