she said, “What was a stroke of luck! Why didn’t you tell us you had found this?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Larry said, “Because I’m a bit mad?”
“What is it, Harry?”
Smiling, she replied, “Box, I don’t know if you will fully understand its concept…”
At that point Holdavort, struggling to his feet, roared out in anger, “So the ghost has found my Disk?”
“Try me,” said Box ever so quickly to Harry.
“Okay, I will,” she replied even quicker. “Larry found a Harrovian Nail.”
“Disk or nail? It can’t be both!”
“Even though it looks like a nail, it’s called a disk,” Harry explained. “And before you ask me why – don’t, because I have no idea,” she continued, “These magical discs are capable of so many things, one of which is inflicting excruciating pain…”
“And it was just lying there, on the ground?”
“No, you heard Larry, Holdavort dropped it.”
“Yes, I did,” Holdavort boomed, “and I would like it back.”
“There’s no time to explain any more, Box,” Harry shouted. “Get that pink wand of yours at the ready, and take these marbles.” Handing him the two retrieved marbles, she said, “I’m going to try my luck with this nail – err, disk…”
The Final Showdown?
Whilst Harry dashed across to the far side of the Great Hall, clutching the Harrovian Disc, bringing their hopes along with her, Laughing Larry, having no intention of being anywhere close to Holdavort than was absolutely necessary, circled above.
Below the mad ghost, at ground level, Box studied the two marbles and the garishly pink wand that he found so distasteful. “I so wish she’d tell me more,” he grumbled. “I always feel she’s only telling me half the story...” And she was, but that was Harry, and she had no intention of ever changing her ways, had she?
“So, Muddle, she has left you alone, to your own devices…” said Holdavort, standing so proud in front of him, “…the brave girl mystic.”
“Alone shmlone,” Box retorted contemptuously.
With every marble embedded within his robe glowing blue-hot, Holdavort said coldly, calmly, “This time I will offer you no last request.” With that twenty-one shafts of intense blue light screamed their way towards Box.
“That’s what you think!” he yelled, diving for cover and hurling the two marbles, with intent. And if there was one thing (apart from electronics) that Box excelled at, it was lobbing objects, like stones – and marbles. Indeed, he had lost count of how many windowpanes he had broken, enjoying this, his boldest of pastimes.
It was a strange, almost surreal sight; the Muddle child pitted against the might of the red winged giant. And what happened next was just as unreal, as surreal. You see, the two flying marbles, suddenly veering off course, gave Holdavort a wide berth, and instead of perpetrating some dastardly deed upon him, they simply returned, protecting Box from any attack. The threat perpetrated against him was at nothing.
“HOW CAN THIS BE?” Holdavort roared in outrage. “MARBLE AGAINST MARBLE?”
“I think I’m getting the hang of this magical malarkey,” Box laughed, opening his hand, accepting the marbles as they returned to him. “I think we might finally be in with a chance of winning,” he said. Then waving the pink wand, he let rip with an attack of his own, sending Holdavort reeling.
Meanwhile, on the far side of the Great Hall, behind Holdavort, hidden from view, Harry was ready to begin. Speaking a loose mixture of Arcanum and English, she said, “With this nail, this Harrovian disc, I call on its powers – a cristatic mind shift, to lend me a hand at this time of appeal, cristosis, cristopholous, cristaecis – so be it.”
If she had confided in Box this time, about what she was up to, he might have been concerned – very concerned indeed. Because Harry had called upon the last thing he wanted to see, the very thing they had struggled, and so hard, to close. She called upon the gates of Hell – Hades itself – to reopen, and with it all the terrible things contained therein. And it happened so quickly; with a creaking, cracking, groaning sound the gates burst open, offering free rein to the abominations within.
High above, the ghost sang nervously, more nervously than he had ever sung in his entire life – or death, “I am Laughing…”
Box knew instinctively that Harry was up to something, but from where he was standing was he unable to see what it was, so skirting Holdavort, who was still struggling to fight off the effects of his attack upon him, Box made his way round...
Then he saw them, Box saw the gates of Hades – burst open, with the demon-beasts inching their way out! Fearing that everything was now lost, Box groaned, “Harry! What have you done?”
Harry, however, said nothing; she just smiled vacantly in return. And she was still smiling vacantly when Holdavort shook off the last vestiges of Box’s assault. “So, you have reopened the gates of Hades!” he boomed. “The gates that will, after I have had my fun, claim you and that stupid Muddle forever!”
Like the mad ghost had done earlier, Harry clenched the Harrovian Disc ever so tightly as she ran headlong at Holdavort. Her head found its mark, and he bellowed in agony. Having no intention of letting up, of offering him the slightest chance of recovery, Harry stepped back a few paces and then rushed him again. Her head found its mark for a second time, and Holdavort roared out in pain, he roared from the terrible pain inflicted by the bearer of the Harrovian Disc. He roared and he roared and he roared.
“Harry, what are you up to?” said Box, puzzled by her strange behaviour. “He’ll think of a way out, to stop you…and then you’ll be for it.”
Still smiling in the same vacant way as before, Harry pointed to the demon-beasts emerging from Hell. “Not if they have anything to do with it, he won’t.”
Once again Box found himself dismayed by the actions of his wayward cousin, and he said, “Harry, you can’t actually believe they will help – you can’t.”
“Hmm,” she said, the vacant smile etched across her face, “but I do.”
“Why, for God’s sake? Why have you done this?” he asked, flapping his arms in frustration, “WHY?”
Getting all-defensive, she said, “Have you any better suggestions?”
His arms falling, the wind blown out from his sails, Box said, and ever so quietly, “Well…no. I don’t, as it so happens…” On hearing this, Harry smiled that bit more, and said “Listen to me...”
“I’m ready,” said Box, watching nervously as the emerging demon-beasts, now fully clear of the gates, edged ever closer. “But please began soon.”
Paying no attention to the demon-beasts, Holdavort, now fully recovered from Box’s attack, returned with an attack of his own, catching the two children off guard, sending them sprawling helplessly across the shiny, wooden floor. Laughing great peals of laughter, Holdavort glorified at his success. Then sending another vicious attack racing towards them, he edged closer – for the kill.
Holdavort was so caught up in his own words, his own rhetoric, condemning Harry and the stupid Muddle for interfering in something that he insisted was of no concern to them, he thought nothing more of the emerging demon-beasts. And that was a mistake, a big mistake, and Harry seized upon it...
Struggling to her feet, shouting at the top of her voice, Harry said, “Now, Box! Do exactly as I told you – DO IT NOW!”
He did, although Box had that garishly pink wand to contend with, he did exactly as she had instructed him. Pointing it at the broken-down gates, twirling the two marbles in his other hand, he began speaking in Arcanum. “Here goes,” he said, “I hope I can remember them all…”
He did, the Arcanumic words flowed freely, sweetly, and the emerging demon-beasts were soon enthralled by its powerful embrace. “It’s working, it’s actually working, Harry!” said Box, amazed by its sway.
“Keep your mind on the job,” she warned. “It will only last for a few seconds. WE MUST GET IT R
IGHT!”
Swayed, mesmerised by the Arcanumic chant, the spell, the demon-beasts, changing direction, began making their way towards Holdavort. He was still so full of his own importance, his burning desire to be rid of Harry and the stupid Muddle, he was blind, oblivious to danger they posed. Had he seen them, he could have so easily been able to fend them off, to send them packing, but he didn’t, and that was an unfortunate state of affairs altogether…
Seeing her plan working so perfectly, Harry’s brain cranked up a gear, and waving her wand slowly, deliberately, she began speaking, she said, “HOLDAVORT!”
“What is it, ‘famous’ girl mystic?” he asked mockingly. “Do you want to beg me to stop?”
“Beg? You must be joking you old fart!” she yelled contemptuously at him.
Sensing yet another ploy, another deception, Holdavort sent a beam of curdled light screaming its way towards the two children.
“BOX!” Harry yelled, trying so desperately to warn him.
Although he was preoccupied, watching the approaching beasts, Box did hear her, he heard her all right, but too late…far too late, and he suffered the full force of Holdavort’s despicable attack.
He laughed; Holdavort laughed a loud belly laugh, at the fall of the stupid, interfering Muddle. “So, another has fallen,” he gloated. “That only leaves you and me…”
“You, me – and them!” Harry replied smugly.
“Them?”
“Yes, them,” she said pointing behind him.
Turning, Holdavort reeled in shock, as the demon-beasts pounced…
Thinking that it was all over, that Holdavort had finally met his match, his comeuppance, Harry stared at the devastation before her, at her best friends (yes, she now realised they were really and truly her friends) lying so still; Miocene straddled across the balcony rails, and Box on the hard, cold floor. And she cried, Harry cried at what she had brought about – at all the terrible things she had caused, in her quest for the Philosopher’s Marbles...
Thinking that something is over does not necessarily mean that it is; Harry was about to learn this lesson the hard way…
With every last marble embedded in his hard, leathery robes glowing white-hot, Holdavort expunged the demon-beats with a vengeance. “You insult me,” he roared, “to imagine they,” he pointed contemptuously at the retreating beasts, “could have any effect, would have any more effect on me other than a passing inconvenience.” Glancing momentarily to the balcony, above, Holdavort twirled one of his hands. Obeying his orders, the demon-beasts turned and began making their way to the door leading up...
“I see that I have caught your attention,” said Holdavort in his serendipity. “Let’s see how the children,” he glanced up, and they in turn stared down, “like to be amused…” And with that he twirled his hand for a second time, just a smidgeon, even less than before, but enough to send the door flying off its hinges, allowing the beasts free access to the stairs leading up to the balcony.
“NO!” Harry screamed. “NO, you can’t do that, NO!”
“Oh, but I can,” he whispered, in amused reply.
Clutching hard on the Harrovian Disc, Harry made a mad rush for Holdavort, but raising a hand, he stopped her in her dead in her tracks.
“Once again you have insulted me,” he scowled. “That you think I am incapable of – adapting.” With a beckoning motion, Holdavort snapped his fingers, and the disc, extricating itself from Harry’s tight grip, flew the short distance between them. And when it was resting safely in his evil clutches, Holdavort crushed it into a fine powder before Harry’s startled eyes.
The demon-beasts, having made their way up the narrow staircase, were edging ever closer towards the frightened children. Shouting up to them, Harry said, “Remember what I told you, what is expected of you!” Hearing this, remembering this, every last child crammed on that balcony withdrew their wands, ready for the fight of their young lives.
To say Harry was surprised would be an understatement, a disservice to the would-be young mystics on that balcony. Yes, they certainly surprised her, but they also amazed, astounded, flabbergasted, stunned and bowled her over by the resistance, the fight they put up against their attackers. Every last one of them, with wands blazing and the fires of freedom burning deep in their bellies, held their own on that balcony, against the demon-beasts, giving as much, no, giving more than they received, fighting, overcoming those creatures from hell.
A pain; Harry felt an intense pain burning, tearing its way through her chest, Holdavort, having seen her weakness, an opportunity when her defences were down, had seized the moment and struck hard. In agony, clutching her chest, Harry fell to the floor, quite still…
“Does it end so easily?” said Holdavort, staring down onto the fallen child, the adrenalin running fast through his evil veins. “Is that all there is? No fanfare, no applause – just silence?” His head tilting to one side, Holdavort realised just what he had said – silence – and it worried him. Looking up to the balcony and it was by no means a passing glance, this time, he saw the children, the pupils – all of them – staring down at him. “What happened to the demon-beasts?” he asked with incredulity. The eyes from above continued to stare at him, but not one child offered an explanation word.
Looking away, in denial of their apparent triumph, Holdavort, in an effort to regain his composure, dismissed it, saying, “It matters not; the beasts were merely tools. I will finish the job, myself.” With that his red hued wings began beating, flapping, lifting him, raising him up to the level of the balcony. But when he reached it, Holdavort was dismayed to see no sign of the fallen girl, Miocene, anywhere. “How can this be?” he roared, in his growing anger. “What skulduggery is this? Tell me,” he warned, shaking his fist, “would-be child mystics, lest you feel my wrath!” The children, however, said nothing, every last one of them, with their hands (and their wands) hanging harmlessly by their sides, offered no him fight, no resistance.
“HAH!” Holdavort cried, smelling a rat. “So you think you can fool me? You think you can emulate your heroine, Harry – Harry Rotter, you try and outsmart me? Hah! Look at her!” he ordered. But they just continued to stare blankly at him, their eyes never leaving his face. “I said LOOK!” he bellowed, turning, pointing below. It was then; right there and then Holdavort got the shock of his life… You see, although he saw the body of Harry lying so still on the hard, cruel floor, he also saw a figure of a girl standing next to her. “What skulduggery is this?” he asked again.
The figure, its head turning slowly, facing upwards, fixing its eyes upon him – was also Harry, a second Harry – and she smiled.
Reeling in shock, Holdavort said, “No, not again! You did that, before... But NOT AGAIN! YOU CAN’T, YOU CAN’T HAVE REMEMBERED!”
Floating, rising like she were no more substantial that a wisp of smoke, as the first Harry, the fallen Harry faded into nothingness, the new Harry, the living Harry edged ever higher, ever closer to the abomination calling itself Holdavort. When she had reached his level, the balcony, the new Harry began speaking, she said, “What’s the matter Holdavort? Or has the cat got your tongue?”
From high above, the ghost, Laughing Larry, watched with a growing interest.
Stammering, unable – unwilling to believe what he was seeing, Holdavort, stuttered, “But, but…”
“With her hands resting on her hips, Harry said (and ever do bluntly), “But – what?”
“But…I thought you had forgotten…”
“See what thought did?” she replied sardonically. “It made you confidant… far too confident… You thought I might never remember…about that day, in the toilet – when we fought.” Without allowing him time to reply, she continued. “But I do – now! I remember – everything!”
“Everything?”
“Yes, everything!” Rolling up her sleeve, she said, “Especially how I got this!” She pointed to the scar that Box had mistakenly assumed to be a tattoo.
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Eying it, Holdavort said, “a mark, a mere mark, that’s all…”
“A mere mark?” Harry fumed. “Let’s see how you like being marked.” In abject fury Harry waved her wand, letting rip with an attack so powerful the very foundations of the Great Hall shook, hurling Holdavort through the air like so much waste flotsam, smashing him into the far wall. And he wasn’t laughing this time, no, the red hued figure was patently, obviously – afraid.
“What’s wrong Holdavort? Can’t see the funny side of it? You know, like how you clouded my mind for so long?”
Extricating himself from the wall, Holdavort flew back to Harry. But on reaching her, instead of offering more resistance, more fight, he once again offered the olive branch. “A truce?” he asked.
“A truce?” Harry replied, fuming in anger, attacking again, sending him crashing into the far wall for a second time.
Although bruised and battered, Holdavort returned to Harry. His huge wings flapping hard, suspending in the air in front of her, he said, “You are like me...”
“Like you?” she asked with incredulity, ready to smite him at a moment’s notice.
“Yes – that’s why I did it… Why I clouded your mind… After you had defeated me… It was a small spell, albeit it a tricky one. But I had to do it…. I had no other option… I had to stop you from using those marbles – You were obsessed by them…”
Her eyes narrowing, Harry said, “Obsessed? How can I have been obsessed, when I had never even seen them?”
“But you had,” he replied. “You had every last one of them in your possession… That’s how you were able to defeat me… I was lucky to escape with my life…
“But Tumbledown had them – I found them in his study room!” Harry insisted.
“Yes, but that was much later...after I had rescued them from you.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“As your mind clouded over, forgetting, I seized the opportunity, that brief moment, to send them elsewhere. As I retreated, making my exit, I sent them to a place where Tumbledown would most certainly find them.”
“But why him?”
“He was a safe bet… While he had them in his possession, and as long as you forgot, I was still in with a chance of returning, at a later date, a safer time, to secure them for myself,” Holdavort explained.
“What about the book that I found?” Harry asked.
He laughed; Holdavort laughed, saying, “Apart from a little magic, to entice you, to lead you on, it was a ruse, a smokescreen that I created, that was all… The Philosopher’s Marbles always were…”
Recalling how she had been peculiarly drawn to them, when she had seen the marbles in Tumbledown’s study, Harry said, “I was a fool…”
“You forgot…you simply forgot…”
“If all of this is actually true,” said Harry, “why do I still have this – power, even though I
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