Harry Rotter

Home > Other > Harry Rotter > Page 36
Harry Rotter Page 36

by Gerrard Wllson

you will to hear me out?”

  “Go on,” Harry replied, folding her arms. “Try me!”

  “Very well, I will…” I – we drank the Elixir of Life, to gain – immortality.”

  “Are you now telling me that I am immortal?” Harry asked sceptically.

  “No, not yet. The Elixir has merely brought us here…”

  “Where are we, anyway?”

  “Where are we? We are in The Summerland, of course,” Holdavort replied, waving an arm yet again. “And isn’t it wonderful?”

  If there was only one thing that Holdavort had ever been right in, it was this, because Summerland was an absolutely stunning place. It was beauty beyond compare.

  “Okay, I’ll give you that, it’s a wonderful place,” Harry replied “But how do I know that this is really, truly The Summerland? Sure, that’s where we are supposed to go after we die. Then raising an eyebrow, she asked, “Was there also poison in it? Are we dead?”

  Laughing a loud belly laugh, Holdavort said, “No, it was not poison, and we are most certainly not dead. We are as far removed from death as we could possibly be…”

  “Then why are we here? How are we here?”

  “I have already explained how we have come to be here,” he said. “And as to the why – it’s to gain immortality.”

  “But why bring me along?”

  “An olive branch. It’s another olive branch, Harry. You must believe me when I tell you this is what you are destined for!”

  Although she was so tired and her brain ached struggling to keep up with the conversation, all of Harry’s senses told her, they screamed to her that Holdavort was not telling the whole story. But without having anything more substantial to go on, to prove that he was deceiving her, she went along with the charade, at least for the moment. “Okay, when push comes to shove I can go along with that,” she said. “But we still have the Philosopher’s Marbles to deal with…”

  “Ah, the marbles,” Holdavort whispered.

  “Yes, and if I was hearing correctly, I recall you saying something about giving them to me…”

  “Yes, I did, didn’t I?”

  “Well?”

  “All in good time, my dear,” he replied condescendingly, “all in good time...”

  “Like when?”

  For a moment, just a brief moment, Holdavort stared glaringly, menacingly at Harry, but gathering his thoughts, his composure, he said, “Like after we have presented them, and in their entirety, to The Summerland.”

  Her suspicions growing, Harry said, “We have to present them to Heaven – to The Summerland?”

  Holdavort nodded a ‘yes’.

  “But why?”

  “To gain our immortality, of course.”

  Although Harry’s suspicions were growing, there was nothing to prove that Holdavort was actually lying, that she was being deceived – and immortality was certainly an alluring proposition, so biting the bullet, she said, “All right, Holdavort, let’s do it.”

  Hearing this, he smiled ever so sweetly, and said, “Follow me…”

  She did, following him down a serene country lane (she had no idea where it had appeared from, for it had most surely not been there a moment earlier), Harry marvelled at the magnificent landscape. Passing charming thatched cottages surrounded by even more delightful gardens, Harry lingered a while, then continuing on, she passed wonderful meadows bursting with wild flowers. Trees, their route passed trees growing so high they almost touched the sky, a sky so blue Harry felt, no, believed she must surely be in Heaven, to see such marvels. And so it went on, passing ever more beautiful scenes of rural, pastoral life, scenes of contented families, happy times – everything that Harry had missed out on.

  Coming to a halt outside a gate to a field, Holdavort pointed in through it, saying, “There, that is where we must make our presentation.”

  “In a field?” Harry asked, thinking it, to say the least, a bit odd. With her mind having now rested and beginning to clear, Harry’s eyes narrowed, and she asked, “How do you know all of this, anyhow?”

  “My dear, how I know is of no importance,” Holdavort replied, passing over her question like it was meaningless. Then opening the gate, he entered the field and bid her to follow.

  From inside, the field appeared considerably smaller than it had from outside. “How can this be?” Harry asked. But Holdavort, now standing in front of a structure that looked incredibly like an altar, never answered. Perhaps he never heard, but then again, perhaps he never intended to answer…

  Kneeling on the first step, Holdavort stilled his excited wings, not a single red feather moved – not even an inch. “Come, child,” he said, patting the step with a hand. “We must kneel.

  Cautiously approaching the altar, Harry knelt next to him. And she looked so small, so defenceless against the giant of a man/thing. Yes, she still had her new wand to help her if she had need of it, and also the two Philosopher’s Marbles that Box had retrieved, but she still looked so vulnerable, so incredibly vulnerable…

  After kneeling for a good fifteen minutes without anything happening, Harry’s knees were quite sore, so sore she just had to speak. “Well, what are we waiting for?” she asked.

  Pointing up the steps, to the altar, Holdavort said, “That!”

  Her eyes following his finger, to the altar, Harry spied something materialising upon it, something that looked incredibly like a football. “What is THAT?” she asked. Answering her own question, she said, “A FOOTBALL! Are we going to play soccer?”

  Holdavort began speaking, he said, “We offer you these marbles, these Philosopher’s Marbles – all twenty-three of them – the full and complete set.”

  “Who are you speaking to?” Harry whispered.

  Without warning, all twenty-one marbles, detaching themselves from Holdavort’s robes, began floating towards the altar. “Infinity, I am addressing Infinity,” he replied.

  “Oh, that,” she mused, feeling well and truly put in her place.

  Then turning to Harry – and her two marbles, Holdavort said, “Now it’s your turn…”

  “My turn?”

  “Yes,” he replied, pointing to her hand. “You must offer your marbles…”

  Although she was still suspicious of his intentions, Harry was rather intrigued, even beguiled, by the promise of immortality, so opening her hand, she offered her two marbles. Floating up, they joined with the others atop the altar.

  “So, is that it?” she asked naively. “Are we now immortal?”

  His manner suddenly changing, from compliant to arrogant, Holdavort, storming his way up the steps, two at a time, stood proudly, defiantly, glorifying in his success, watching each and every marble – all twenty-three of them – embed into his robes. Shouting at the top of his voice, he said, “I HAVE THEM! I NOW HAVE ALL THE PHILOSOPHER’S MARBLES!”

  Harry’s heart sank, for she knew, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had been tricked, tricked by the evil man/thing, into relinquishing her two marbles. And that was bad, so bad…

  “It was all a sham, a cheap trick, wasn’t it?” she said, in total despair.

  “Yes,” Holdavort whispered, “I suppose you might call it that.” With a wave of a hand, he made everything disappear, the altar, the field, the gate – everything. Almost falling with fright, Harry realised that she was still perched high upon the roof of the Great Hall, with its ever so slippery tiles.

  “Now that the charade is finally over,” said Holdavort, happy to have returned to his usual modus operandi. “I had better put you out of your misery. And you are feeling miserable, are you not?

  Flying out through a hole in the roof, roaring at the top of her voice, Miocene said, “She might be feeling miserable, but that doesn’t mean she’s out for the count!”

  “Miocene – you’re okay?” said Harry, shocked to see that she had recovered, and even more shocked to see that she was actually flying.

  With a gleam of growing magic in her ey
es, she said, “Yes, I am!” I can’t be finished off that easily, Harry. I thought you above all people would know that! But we have more important things to be concerned about than me,” she added, “like you needing a bit of a hand…”

  “Hmm, that’s the understatement of the year,” Harry whimpered.

  Poking his head through a hole in the roof, Box asked, “Would another hand be of any help?”

  “Box! Is that really you?” Harry asked. “Are you all right? I thought you were…”

  “I was the last time I looked,” he said with a wink. “And I’m fine, a bit sore, perhaps, but nothing a good night’s rest can’t cure.” Then clambering onto the roof he joined them.

  “So, you are together again, like proverbially cats with so many lives,” Holdavort sneered as the marbles in his robes, all twenty-three of them, glowed brilliantly. “United in life, and soon to be united – in death!” And it was true; what hope had they, now that Holdavort had all the marbles in his possession?

  Seizing the moment, the opportunity that the return of her friends offered, Harry’s mind cranked up a gear, and shouting, roaring at Holdavort, she said, “Holdavort, Tumbledown, or whoever you are… I dare you to fight me – alone!”

  Having already done so, Holdavort saw nothing to fear in doing this, and being so arrogant he allowed it to cloud his judgement. “If that’s what you want, then so be it,” he said. “But I warn you, it will be over so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

  “That’s fine with me,” Harry replied. Hearing this, Miocene and Box were so worried. “Don’t worry, Miocene – Sir

‹ Prev