Ray Potter and the Drum of Doom
The story so far...
Young Ray Potter has arrived at the Fairkytes School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He soon finds himself confronted by the Sorting Drum which will determine what house he will be in when he joins the school Morris team. Now read on...
'You see before you,' said the Sorting Drum, 'various items relating to the Queerfish Morris dancers, our school team. Choose one item and I shall decide if you're suited to it or not. My final choice will determine which house you are placed in: Beasts, Janglers, Squeezers or Thumpers.'
Trembling, Ray reached out and picked up what looked like a sack of coal with horns. 'Put it on over your head, Ray,' shouted his chum, Emma Granger, from where she sat in the front row. Being the frightful brat that she was, Emma had already been chosen as a member of Janglers House on account of her magnificent high capers.
Ray did as Emma suggested; it smelt foul inside, like an un-mucked out stable. 'Blecch, what is it?' Ray gagged as he stumbled around the Great Hall, unable to see where he was going.
'It's Bovril, the team Beast,' said the Sorting Drum with a chuckle. 'And it's clearly not for you. Take it off and choose again.'
'Raymond Potter needs to choose more carefully,' came a reproving voice from around Ray's knee. He glanced down; it was Jakey, the house-elf. 'Unless Raymond Potter is more careful, Raymond Potter will not be chosen for any house at all!'
Irritated at the house-elf's insolence, Ray reached out and grabbed the next object, a set of bell pads. Emma suppressed a giggle as Ray tied the bells to his legs and began to attempt a complex galley he'd watched members of the senior Queerfish team perform. But it wouldn't work for him. He staggered across the hall, crashing into the next item, a set of bagpipes.
He picked up the pipes and began to squeeze. The resultant sound was dismal, like an asthmatic goat. Jakey shook his head, while several of Ray's classmates were reduced to fits of laughter.
'I'll show them,' thought Ray. Slamming down the groaning bagpipes, he ignored the next object, a Bodhran, and snatched at the Sorting Drum itself. Desperately Ray looked around for some sort of drumstick but there was none to be found. Quick as a flash he whipped out his hickory-wood wand with a cry of 'expandimus'.
Before his eyes, the wand began to grow until it was as big as a full-sized drum beater. Ray raised the beater above his head then brought it down onto the Sorting Drum with tremendous force. Once the sound had finished reverberating around the Great Hall, once everyone had removed their hands from their ears, once his earwax had finished trickling down onto his collar, Ray began a slow funereal beat that was, if anything, even louder than his first solitary blow. Everyone was in tears - at least, their eyes were streaming a bit.
'No more, Raymond Potter,' said Jakey, his hands over his ears again, 'No More.'
'Bloody Hell, Ray,' said Steven Weasley, 'that's amazing.'
'Indeed it is,' boomed a voice from the back. 'Step forward, young Potter.'
It was Professor Pete Rumblemore, headmaster of Fairkytes school. 'Welcome to Thumpers House. Looks like you've been well and truly sorted, my son!'
To be continued...
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