Harry Rotter

by Gerrard Wllson

added. “Spirited, but lacking in direction…”

  Two burley teachers, grabbing hold of Box, halted his attack before it had any hope of succeeding.

  “Yes, so very lacking,” Tumbledown, agreed. Returning his attention to Harry, he asked, “What on earth did you hope to achieve, Harry, rising up from the depths in so theatrical a manner?”

  Shrugging, she replied, “A good entrance?”

  “Hmm.”

  “All laughter aside,” said Harry, “we just wanted to surrender. You know, to give up.”

  Harry’s words, her offer of surrender, took Tumbledown by surprise, and for a moment he was lost for words.

  Sensing that Harry was getting away with something, even if she had no idea what it actually was, Professor McGonagain prodded the old man, and pointing, she whispered, “The children!”

  He saw them; Tumbledown saw the eyes of each and every child following the proceedings, locked on the proceedings like it was a battle to the death in a Roman amphitheatre. And he knew that, even more important than winning, he had to be seen to be winning. “Seize her,” he ordered.

  On those orders, another two burley teachers grabbed hold of Harry.

  “Harry!” Box shouted, struggling against his two captors.

  Harry, however, simply ignored him.

  “HARRY!” Box shouted again.

  “What is wrong with the Muddle?” Professor McGonagain asked.

  “He’s a Muddle, that’s what’s wrong with him,” said the old man. “Just a foolish muddle.” Returning his attention to Harry, he said, “Notwithstanding your unexpected surrender, there is one thing that puzzles me….”

  “Yes?” she said, as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

  “…How you managed to escape from the cell?”

  Smiling, she replied, “That was easy – I used my wand.”

  Trying to break free, but failing again, Box shouted, “No, Harry, don’t tell them!”

  Yet again Harry took no notice of her Muddle born cousin.

  “I had a second wand,” she said slowly, methodically. “Do you want to see it?” she asked, her eyes studying the old man, with an acute interest.

  Although eying her with a growing suspicion, Tumbledown was so fascinated by the concept of owning two wands, something that he had up until then considered impossible, he allowed it to cloud his judgement. “Yes, child,” he said sweetly, “I would love to see your second wand. Turning to the two teachers, he said, “Release her.” They released Harry.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Now, as I was saying, I used my wand, my other wand…”

  All eyes were on Harry; the pupils, the teachers, McGonagain and of course Tumbledown himself – all of them watching to see her produce her second wand.

  After slipping a hand into her jacket pocket, Harry rooted around inside it, as if she was searching for the said wand.

  “It must be terribly small,” Professor McGonagain whispered.

  “It is,” she said. “It has more in common with the magical sticks, those men on flying carpets you sent after me, had.”

  “Ah,” the Professor replied, thinking she smelt a rat, that Harry had in fact secured such a stick.

  Withdrawing her clenched fist, Harry opened it ever so slowly, revealing the mysterious object.

  The Professor was confused, so too was everyone else, because all they saw was a small, silver coloured pen like object.

  “What’s that?” the Professor asked, pointing at it with a long bony finger.

  Studying her face and also Tumbledown’s, Harry said, “It’s the wand, of course.”

  “The wand? Do you mock us?” Tumbledown asked, his expression changing from inquisitiveness to anger.

  “No,” she replied, with a look so blank, so vacant it would have been at home in a poker game.

  They say curiosity killed the cat, and the old man was certainly filled with curiosity, with a burning desire to see the wand, no matter what shape it happened to be. Was it enough to turn him into this proverbial cat? He certainly knew the danger, the risk of Harry trying something, to get herself and the Muddle from out the mess they were in. And, God knows, the Professor had warned him enough, but had to see the wand, he just had to see it…

  Beckoning Harry to come closer, he said. “Show it to me, child… I want to see this strange wand of yours.”

  This was the opportunity Harry had been waiting for, had been hoping for. Gesturing for Tumbledown, instead, to come closer, she gave him the impression that she was about to reveal it in full glorious detail. With eyes wide shut Tumbledown willingly obliged. Leading the foolhardy cat to his demise, Harry almost laughed as she flipped the instrument’s switch. Covering her eyes, she said, “Take that you old coot!”

  Harry’s eyes were protected, but Tumbledown’s, McGonagain’s, the teachers’ and all of the pupils’ eyes were not. And they felt the full force of the wide angled flash of intense laser light, which blinded them in an instant.

  Rushing over to Box, returning the laser to him, Harry shouted, “Thank heavens you remembered to cover your eyes. Come on, let’s get Miocene and Wan, and get the hell out of here!”

  “W, what’s happening?” Wan, a pale faced ginger headed boy, spluttered, as they manhandled him away.

  “Who’s that?” shrieked Miocene, sightless and frightened, as she too was separated from her fellow pupils.

  “Friends,” said Harry.

  “We’re friends, really,” said Box, trying to calm and reassure them.

  “I can’t see!” Miocene shrieked.

  “Nor can I,” Wan added.

  “It’s only temporary,” Box whispered. “Now please do as we say, and all will be explained later.”

  After they had escaped from the hall, and were ensconced in a place of relative safety – the electrical experimentation workshop, the effects of the laser light began to wear off.

  “Where are we?” Wan asked, eying the room that was appearing before him, with some suspicion.

  “What sort of a place is this?” Miocene asked, as her eyesight also returned. “And why have you taken us away from Hagswords?” Realising how wild her brown curly hair had become, she tried to calm it.

  “You are still in Hagswords,” said Harry, taking some considerable satisfaction in telling them.

  “In Hagswords? No! That’s impossible!” she said. “This is nothing at all like school.”

  “No,” said Wan, chipping in his ten-penneth worth. “We don’t have any rooms like this at our school. And what are all these, machine things, anyhow?”

  “It is Hagswords,” said Box. “Please believe us when we tell you this.”

  “And who the hell are you?” asked Wan. “You’re not a pupil. I’d certainly remember someone as skinny as you.”

  “I’m Box, Box Privet – Harry’s cousin.”

  “Oh, I think I heard about you. You’re one of those Muddles,” he said derisively.

  “We’ll be having none of that kind of talk, here,” said Harry, in a rare instance of support for her Muddle born cousin.

  Over the following minutes, Harry and Box explained everything to the confused pupils, Miocene and Wan, bringing then up-to-date on all that had happened over the last number of days, from the beginning, when Harry had stolen the marble, all the way through to their sudden appearance, minutes earlier, rising out of the floor.

  “So,” said Harry, “you now know all that has happened.”

  “Rubbing his face, trying to come to terms with the strange story, Wan’s zonked brain struggled to grasp the facts, and he said, “Not quite.”

  “No?” said Box.

  “No,” Wan repeated, “I was, we were – we still are – not quite ourselves.”

  “Half asleep, might better describe it,” said Miocene. “I can hardly remember anything – for ages!”

  Producing her stumpy wand, Harry said, “I think I can help you on that front.”

  “Do you think you can, you know
, un-zonk them?” Box asked.

  “We’ll soon see,” said Harry, tapping her wand on the palm of her hand. “Now who wants to be first?”

  Although they were coming round to what they had been told, neither Wan nor Miocene had any wish to be the first under the hammer, as it were. And they both shuffled away, hoping the other was picked first.

  “Okay,” said Harry, who had little patience at the best of times, “I’ll do both of you at the same time…”

  “No, wait!” they shouted. But it was too late Harry had begun waving her little wand… She said, “Free their minds, their hopes and thoughts, free their vision, their ideas – from nought. Return their minds to that before, and free their souls, enslaved no more.” It was done; for a second time in almost as many minutes Miocene and Wan had been set free.

  “Wow!” said Wan, in total amazement at the change in him. “I can think again – I can really think. God! I had forgotten what it was like!”

  “And I can remember all the terrible things we went along with…” said Miocene. “That none of us spoke up about…”

  “There’ll be time for that later,” said Harry, surprised that it had worked so well (but keeping stumpf about it).

  “How do you know Tumbledown won’t find us in here?” Wan asked, as he inspected the room with a newfound interest.

  “Lightening,” Harry replied confidently.

  “Pardon?” said Wan.

  “Lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice,” Harry explained.

  Box, however, had other opinions on the matter, especially so after Harry’s previous insistence that they were safe there, but for the sake of the group effort he kept them to himself.

  Apparently satisfied with Harry’s explanation, Wan resumed his