Harry Rotter

by Gerrard Wllson

get.”

  “I only said…”

  “Come on, we must stay focused,” said Box, butting in.

  “For what good it will do…” a voice boomed from above

  Pointing to Tumbledown, now hovering high above them, Box said, “Did he say that?”

  Harry remained strangely silent.

  The children on the balcony, watching these developments also remained silent.

  “His voice sounds different,” Miocene whispered.

  “And so it should,” the voice boomed out again.

  The appearance of wings and altered vocal chords were not the only things changed about Tumbledown. His robes had also changed, and although they were of the same sickly red colour, they were now composed of a hard, leathery substance, with a series of twenty-one multicoloured lights embedded intrinsically within them. And these lights shone out with a brilliance so dazzling it lit up the entire hall.

  Thinking they looked somehow familiar, Miocene asked, “What are they?”

  Without a hint of doubt in her voice, Harry said, “They are the Philosopher’s Marbles of course.”

  “They are?”

  Harry nodded.

  The figure, which had until only moments earlier been that of the old man, Tumbledown, but now so much more, turning its attention to Miocene and Box, said, “He promised you something dastardly, to finish you off. And who am I to deny you this?”

  “What do you mean HE?”

  The red eyes, unblinking, stared at Box, but the voice remained eerily silent.

  “Well?” Box asked him again. “Or has the cat got your tongue?”

  “You will have more to worry about than cats, when I have finished with you,” the voice grimly warned.

  “Cats shmats.” Box yelled out in anger.

  “Very well, the voice replied, though speaking quieter this time, “I will tell you… since it will be the last thing you will ever hear.”

  “And?”

  “I am more than a man, more than the old man, Tumbledown.”

  “I can see that…”

  “More?” Miocene whispered to Harry. “What does he mean?” Harry, however, continued to say nothing.

  Speaking again, the figure explained exactly what he meant; “I am – HOLDAVORT!”

  Reeling in shock, the ghost, Laughing Larry, almost leapt out of his skin when he heard this. Zooming up high into the air, he began flying fast and furious around the hall’s huge interior, like he might never get out from it. And true to his habit, whenever surprised, frightened or shocked, he began singing, “I am Laughing Larry, Laughing Larry today. I am laughing Larry, Laughing Larry hey hey! You may think I’m not too serious, and I might even agree, but I’m still Laughing Larry, Laughing Larry hee hee...”

  When the ghost’s singing had finally come to a stop, the winged figure, Holdavort, staring wildly at him, said, “I will be dealing with you next.” On hearing these words, Laughing Larry flew even faster around the huge hall, then making a beeline for the broken-down entrance he whizzed through it, disappearing from sight.

  Returning his attention to Miocene and Box, Holdavort said mockingly, “Any last requests?”

  Trying to put last requests to the back of her mind, Miocene dared to say, “Are you really Holdavort? I mean, I thought you were more of a legend, than actually real.”

  He laughed; Holdavort laughed the same crazed ‘old man laugh’ as Tumbledown.

  Turning to his cousin, Box said, “Harry, is he really Holdavort?”

  Having remained silent for so long, Harry ruminated over the best way to reply, then answering, she said, “He might appear different, but I’d recognise those piggy eyes of his anywhere.” Holdavort smiled sardonically at Harry.

  “But I thought you had defeated him?” Box whispered.

  “A battle, it was a mere battle – the war, however, was far from won,” the voice boomed again. “And I will not be so congenial this time round. But first things first,” he said, pointing to Miocene and Box. “For now you die.”

  “LEAVE THEM BE!” Harry hissed, in defiance. “FACE ME FIRST, IF YOU DARE!”

  He laughed again; Holdavort laughed the same crazy mad laugh as before. “I will do whatever I choose,” he replied, as two of the Philosopher’s Marbles, embedded within his hard leathery robes, began glowing a different colour, sending a beam of blood red light screaming its way towards the frightened children. Miocene screamed. Box, struck dumb in horror, did nothing, absolutely nothing. Yet, strangely, neither of the two beams struck their intended targets. They simply vanished – gone.

  “WHAT?” Holdavort boomed in anger.

  Holding her wand proudly, defiantly, the girl mystic said, “I did warn you. I told you to leave them be, to try your luck with me, first!”

  “Did you do that, did you save us?” Miocene asked.

  Lifting her wand that bit higher, Harry nodded.

  Turning her attention to Box, Miocene asked, “Are you all right?”

  Looking towards Holdavort, he said, “I will be, when he’s gone.”

  Turning his attention to Harry, Holdavort said, “If that is how you want it, then so be it, you shall be first to die...” But instead of coming at her, to finish her off, he simply vanished from sight.

  “Where’s he gone?” asked Box, scratching his head, confused by the sudden departure.

  “Not far…” said Harry. Then opening the door leading up to the balcony, she said, “Come on, what you are waiting for?”

  Following Harry up the steep flight of steps, Miocene and Box wondered what she was up to.

  “Hurray!” all the children shouted when they arrived at the top. These cheers were so loud Miocene feared Holdavort, on hearing them, might return at any moment. Thankfully this did not happen.

  It was so crowded up there, on the balcony, with every last pupil of the school crammed into it. “Are you all okay? “ Miocene asked a particularly pimply individual.

  “Yeh, were fine,” he replied. “But we don’t know how we got up here, and the door wouldn’t open from this side. Did Tumbledown do it?”

  Miocene nodded.

  “Are you going to finish him off?” another boy asked.

  “Give him one for me,” said another boy, swinging his arm as he spoke.

  Then another child, a girl, said, “Oh, do watch out, I fear something terribly bad is going to happen.” And it was, because outside, somewhere in a space between worlds, Holdavort was planning his imminent return…

  “If we are to have any hope of success,” said Harry, as much to the pupils as to Miocene and Box, “it is imperative that we work together, as a team.”

  Holding up a hand, the same pimply boy who had spoke to Miocene, said, “I thought you had finished him off, yourself, before. So why do you need our help this time round?”

  Even at the best of times Harry had no fondness for answering questions (and who was this spotty faced boy anyway?), but the eyes of this boy and, indeed, everyone else on the balcony were fixed upon her, listening to her every word, so replying obscurely, she said, “When you are as old as me you will understand.”

  The boy, being only a year younger than Harry, put up his hand, to tell her this, but having none of it, she pointed to Box, asking him for the next question.

  Coughing uncertainly, caught unawares, he said, “What are you going to do, Harry?”

  Despite her obscure reply to the boy, they were all (including Box) still hanging onto her every word, to hear what she might say to inspire them. Coughing, clearing her throat, Harry she said, “Hmm, what am I going to do? Yes, that’s the question…” The children continued to stare at her, hoping against hope – for a miracle. Finding some more words, Harry said, “I had hoped to use this,” she waved her electro magical wand before them, “to free the Philosopher’s Marbles for my own, err, ends.” She coughed again. “Things, however, have moved on since then, and the marbles are now an integral part of what the old coot, Tumbledo
wn, has become…”

  “Holdavort?” a voice in the crowd whispered.

  “Yes, Holdavort.”

  “But you defeated him!” the pimply faced boy said again.

  “Yes, I did,” she said. “If I could only remember how… And he is now so much more....”

  “What do we do, then?” another voice asked.

  “To put it quite bluntly, I – we must finish him off…”

  “But how?”

  “How? You ask me how?” Harry said, her voice trailing off. “I don’t even know if it’s possible, let alone how,” she admitted candidly, “considering what we are facing….”

  “But you must stop him,” a girl pupil whispered. “You must…”

  Moving on, ignoring her remark, because she simply had no answer to offer, Harry tried to wind up her talk by asking if there were any more questions, but so many hands shot up, wanting to know more, she said, “I am sorry, but I simply cannot answer you all.”

  Someone at the rear of the balcony booed. Harry ignored it. “So, to sum up,” she said, “I promise you that I will do everything in my power to rid the scourge of Holdavort from Hagswords, once and for all.” Hearing this, the pupils cheered loudly. “I must warn you, though,” she added, “I expect every last one of you, including that person who booed, to help if and when they are called.” Another even louder cheer erupted across the balcony.

  “So,” said Box, calling Harry to come closer, so he could speak to with her one-to-one, “you are going to sort everything out, to make everything just fine and dandy?”

  “Yes, it appears so,” she replied, quite pokerfaced.

  “Any idea how?”

  Her eyes narrowing, she warned, “Don’t get above your