You want to know what's going on, and you want to know now. You storm back to your bed. Snoozing in the bunk above you is a flame-headed boy with lots of freckles. Probably Ron - although he was definitely no Rupert Grint. You poke him awake.
He moans and rolls over. You poke him again, and he gets out from under the covers.
'Mmmhurgh. What is it, Harry?'
'Ron, where are we?'
He looks at you curiously. 'What?'
'Is this Hogwarts? Are we actually at Hogwarts?'
'Yeah, we are,' he says, rolling over. 'Figure that out yourself, did you?'
'But Ron,' you insist, 'I'm not supposed to be here. I'm upposed to be back home with my family...'
Ron sits up properly this time, looking bemused.
'I thought you hated the Dursleys. Anyway, yes, this is Hogwarts. Hey, Harry,' he says, looking round the room. 'Do you know what time we're supposed to get up? I've lost my timetable, but I think we'vce got the same lessons anyway.'
'What? I don't have a timetable.'
'Yes you do. Where'd you put it?'
You drop down to your bunk, wndering where in the worl the real Harry Potter would keep a timetable. He found some Hogwarts robes resting on top of his suitcase. After much fumbling, you find the timetable in the pocket.
You gaze down at it. Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense against the Dark Arts, Potions... it seems so unreal, so bizarre.
'Can I have a look?'
You pass the timetable to Ron.
'Oh great,' he moans. 'Guess what we've got first.'