Harry Putter & the Deathly Hairballs

by O'Donnell, Timothy R.

  Many of those in back tried to find a way to see over those in front and so tried to find an advantage to do so. Many lined the battlements overhead. Others stood upon the debris of battle – fallen stones and the wreckage of tanks. The Knights of the Round Table and their followers gazed down from the back of their steeds.

  Mrs. Smooch took the center of the circle and with a magically amplified voice, she said, “This is a wizard’s duel to the death. The contest is between the two combatants only. Combat will not begin until I throw this white handkerchief. When the handkerchief touches the ground, the two combatants will …”

  Just then a beautiful woman arrived on horseback, richly beseen. She cried, “Hold!”

  Upon her bidding the crowd parted and let her handsome steed through to the inner circle, where she saluted King Putter. Then and there she asked him a gift that he promised her when she gave him the sword. The beautiful damsel was the Lady of the Pond.

  “Now?” asked Harry.

  The Lady of the Pond answered, “Verily, I see my time and have come to you anon.”

  Harry asked, “What sword do you mean?”

  The damsel said, “The sword, Excalibur! That is as much to say as Cut-steel.”

  Harry slyly said, “But I didn’t take the sword. Ron did.”

  The beautiful woman pouted and was even more lovely to behold. She said, “You were the one who made a promise that day! Is that not so? And has the sword not served you well, bringing you enough men and armies to forge a kingdom?”

  A murmur arose from somewhere in the crowd.

  Harry sighed. He said, “It is true, a gift I promised you, I mean ye. Ask what ye will and ye shall have it, and it lie in my power to give it.”

  “Well,” said the lady, “I ask the hat upon thy head!”

  Harry answered, “Err, I’m a little busy at the moment, can’t it wait until after this?”

  “What is that, your girlfriend, Putter?” Moldyfart razzed. The Fungus Eaters all laughed. However, they each thought the joke dumb, as the woman was so very beautiful.

  The Lady of the Pond replied icily, “You promised, and it is well within your power to hand me the hat.”

  The knights of Camelot began to whisper most agitatedly among themselves. One among them spurred forward upon his steed, pushing through the crowd.

  Harry coolly replied, “But then my head shall be bare. Ask what else ye will, and I shall fulfill your desire.”

  “I will ask none other thing,” said the lady.

  Moldyfart teased, “I haven’t got all day for you to say your last goodbyes to your girlfriend, Putter.” The Fungus Eaters laughed on cue.

  The Lady of the Pond asked, “Are you a man of your word? Or aren’t you? Are you a King? Or are you a cheating, welching scumweasel?”

  Meanwhile, the knights continued to converse in agitation. The one knight, Sir Balin, continued to advance through the crowd and into the circle and as he did, he drew forth his sword.

  Harry scowled, “Fine! There! Take it.” He thrust the hat out to her.

  The Lady of the Pond placed the hat on her head. A mere second later, Sir Balin’s sword cut through her graceful neck. Both her head and the hat fell to the ground and a moment later, her body slumped from her mount.

  Moldyfart laughed, “Cool, looks like your girlfriend’s bought the farm, Putter.” The Fungus Eaters all laughed punctually.

  Harry turned to Sir Balin and said, “We are under truce and none should die but the Fart Lord or I. For shame! Why have ye done so?”

  “Sir,” said Balin, “me forthinketh of your displeasure, for this same lady was the untruest lady living, and by enchantment and sorcery she hath been the destroyer of many good knights, and she was causer that my mother was burnt at the stake, through her falsehood and treachery.”

  Harry replied, “What cause so ever ye had, ye should have forborne her in truce and kept peace in lieu of war. Therefore, withdraw you from the field of battle in all haste ye may, and repent thy dishonor.”

  Sir Balin was sorry he had displeased Harry and dishonored the truce. He answered, “Forgive me, Sir.” He withdrew to his squire, and so they rode forth from the field of battle.

  Moldyfart growled, “Can we get on with this?”

  When Sir Balin was gone, the Lady of the Pond popped back up. In reality she had ducked the blade, and so despite earlier appearances, she was alive as could be, thanks to the Hat of Imaginary Death. She said, “Not a moment too soon, Sir! Thank you for thy gift.”

  Moldyfart angrily shouted, “What treachery is this? The woman was dead a second ago and now she lives and is thanking Harry for saving her! How did you do that, Putter? I didn’t see you cast any spells. You didn’t even raise your wand.”

  Harry said nonchalantly, “Don’t worry about it. It was just a parlor trick – smoke and mirrors.”

  Moldyfart chewed his lip. He was about to duel his most formidable enemy, and just beforehand, his adversary displays new and powerful magic, – powerful enough to instantly raise the dead. On top of it all, his nemesis claims it to be a parlor trick and tells him not to worry about it.

  Furthermore, his archenemy had somehow managed to destroy Ellis Island, which was impossible. He was not aware of any magic that could destroy a whole island. Putter must have used some new and very strong magic to have accomplished that.

  Moldyfart was feeling quite vulnerable. His beloved pet was dead and, as far as he knew, there weren’t any hoaxcrocks left. All his attempts to recover them had been foiled by those meddling teenagers. Plus he hadn’t had a chance to make any more Hoaxcrocks because he couldn’t find the television remote.

  And what was the young man holding? Some sort of glass or crystal shining in the sun. No doubt it was a magic weapon of some kind. Perhaps he had used it to destroy Ellis Island.

  Oh, Moldyfart was worried about it alright. He wiped the sweat from his forehead on the sleeve of his dark brown robe. He felt hot.

  He stalled, “Confound it, Putter. The sun’s up now and that’s not good for a man of my complexion.”

  Harry said, “Well, you are a rather sickly hue. A little sun would probably be good for you.”

  Moldyfart yelled, “Oh, shut up! I haven’t had my breakfast yet and I’m starting to feel a bit irritable. I don’t like to duel on an empty stomach. Why don’t we all come back in about an hour and a half?”

  Harry said, “That’s crazy, this will all be over in a minute or two. Let’s just get on with it.”

  The Fart Lord made another terrible excuse, “I just remembered, I have an appointment this morning with my chiropractor and he hates it when I’m late. How does your schedule look for tomorrow morning?”

  Harry scoffed, “Oh My God! You’re chickening out! You’re chicken little!”

  “Am not! You’re the one who’s a… you’re a big chicken weasel! Chicken Weasel!”

  Grumblesnore yelled impatiently, “Oh, just get on with it already! Smooch, get this thing under way!”

  Smooch said, “Are you two ready?”

  Harry answered, “Yes.”

  Moldyfart said, “No. The sun is in my eyes. It’s not a fair fight if the sun is in my eyes.”

  Harry and the Fart Lord shifted so the sun was not in either of their eyes.

  Mrs. Smooch called out, “Alright, ready?”

  Harry said, “Yes.”

  Moldyfart answered, “Just a moment.”

  The Fart Lord wiped the sweat from his forehead again. As he did, Harry noticed a terrible smell. It was putrid. Many in the crowd smelled it too and began complaining and trying to back up away from the stench. Several of those downwind passed out. Other’s scrambled to find fresh air.

  Moldyfart said, “Alright, let’s get this over with!”

  Smooch said, “When the handkerchief hits the ground, fight. Ready …Set...” She threw the weighted handkerchief arching in the air between the two combatants.

  As the cloth fell, Harry held his wand ready and
raised his arm overhead, prepared to throw the Elvis Snow globe. If there was ever a time when he needed his aim to be true, this was it. He thought, “Lord, please, let this work!”

  He gauged the distance to his enemy, putting all his concentration into his target. And so, he did not notice that Molly Cheesley was running forward into the circle.

  He watched the handkerchief ruffle as it arched downward. He concentrated on its decent. He knew the Fart Lord would cast a spell the moment it struck the ground. Yet spells took concentration, energy, and magic words. While his enemy was casting, he would not be able to duck or dodge the snow globe. And so, all Harry needed to do was aim precisely where Moldyfart stood.

  When the handkerchief struck the ground, Harry threw the snow globe directly at the Fart Lord. Moldyfart, shouted, “In-a-Godda-Da-Vida!” His wand stabbed forward and the Death Curse shot out of the tip. The green bolt of light coursed through the air toward his nemesis.

  Harry dove to the side and avoided the spell. Bellatrix Le Deranged was standing behind him and was not so lucky. She fell down dead.

  Harry raised himself to one knee, already casting a spell to counter. However, he stopped. Mrs. Cheesley was lying on the ground in front of Moldyfart.

  Ron absolutely snapped. He shrieked insanely, “You killed my mother! I can’t believe it! YOU KILLED MY MOTHER! I can’t believe it! You just killed MY MOTHER! You freaking killed my MOTHER! OH MY GOD! You just …Wait. Is she dead?”

  The Fart Lord shrugged. He didn’t know what the hell just happened, other than Bellatrix was certainly dead.

  What had happened was Molly Cheesley ran out into the dueling circle. She had already lost most of the members of her family. She couldn’t bear to see the man, Tom Farisol Riddly die too. She loved him. Ever since she was a schoolgirl she had loved him. She had always had a big crush on Tom Farisol Riddly. She took a ‘bullet’ in the form of a Deathly Hairball in order to save his life.

  The thrown snow globe flew directly at the Fart Lord. As it arched through the air, Molly leaped in front of her love. She tried to catch the snow globe, however, it sailed through her fingertips and struck her squarely in her forehead. The globe shattered sending a spray of water and shards of glass flying. She was dead before her body struck the ground. A soggy but Deathly Hairball clung to her forehead.

  The duel paused as Ron rushed to his mother’s side with tears in his eyes. Everyone watched him. As he ran forward, he said, “Mum, are you alright? Speak to me! Mum?” He knelt by her side and patted her face, saying “Mum? Please, don’t be dead. Please, don’t be dead.”

  He grabbed her wrist and tried to find a pulse. He couldn’t feel anything. He said, “Come back, Mum! Don’t go. Come back!”

  Ron used his wand to flick the hairball from her forehead. He began to scream again, “She’s dead! She’s really dead! Oh God! She’s really dead! I can’t believe it! You just killed my mother! I can’t believe it! You just FREAKING killed MY MOTHER!”

  The bereft teenager stood and furiously yelled, “You’re SO freaking dead for that, Putter!”

  Moldyfart was feeling a bit braver now. He said, “You’re gonna have to wait your turn, Cheesley!”

  Ron turned his anger upon Moldyfart. His eyes glared with a venomous deadly look. If the Cheesley family had potent levels of magic power, the Fart Lord might have been worried at the look in the teenager’s eyes. However, everyone knew the Cheesley’s were laughingstocks in the wizard world. They didn’t even have a house-elf. The boy was like one of those little yip dogs – all bark and no bite. The young man sure made a lot of noise, but there was no way he was going to kill Putter.

  Ron growled, “Why do you get the first turn?”

  Moldyfart shrugged and nonchalantly said, “Because I’m older than you, Cheesley.”

  Ron was so angry, he was visibly shaking. He unleashed his wrath upon the Fart Lord in the form of a giant ball of flame. When it struck the evil wizard, it exploded, blowing him away and leaving a small crater in the earth where Lord Moldyfart had been standing.

  The furious teenager yelled, “Not anymore!”

  The crowd cheered. The Fart Lord was dead. And he wasn’t just dead for the time being. All his hoaxcrocks were destroyed. Moldyfart’s entire soul was gone for good.

  However, Ron was not satisfied. He turned to the young man who had killed his mother. He growled, “Prepare to die, Putter!”

  Hermione pointed her wand and said, “Stupidify!” Ron was stunned when the spell struck him. She said, “Looks like we’ll have to alter his memories a bit before he wakes up again.”

  Nicholas Cage said, “I can help with that.” He pointed his wand and said, “Don’t forget to brush your teeth with Colgate toothpaste!” He spent a minute rearranging Ron’s memory so that Ron would believe that Moldyfart killed his mother and Harry’s snow globe had killed Bellatrix Le Deranged.

  In the meanwhile, Grumblesnore cast the Resounderous spell on his throat as he stepped onto one of the large stones in the middle of the circle. As he did, three hundred Nazi soldiers cocked the firing pins on their bolt-action rifles. And men by the thousands drew their swords. They had the much smaller group defending Hogwashes completely surrounded and had rifles leveled at their backs.

  Grumblesnore said, “Surprise! Ha, Ha! I hope everyone likes surprises as much as I do! Now, throw down your weapons! Especially you, Putter!”

  The defenders of Hogwashes had no choice but to surrender. Resistance would be suicide. They threw down their weapons. The students dropped wands, the elves discarded their automatic machine guns and grenades, the knights abandoned their swords and daggers. Harry tossed his wand to the ground.

  Grumblesnore laughed and said, “Looks like everything has gone according to my plan. I knew Harry would come through for me and destroy all the hoaxcrocks. And then it didn’t matter who won the wizard’s duel to the death. Either way, I’d be the winner! Thanks, Harry, oh, err, I mean, Ron, for conveniently getting Moldyfart out of my way. And since I’m the one with the biggest army in his pocket around here, I’m large and in charge! Who’s the King? Me! The King is King! Ha, Ha! Thank you very much!

  And as of this moment forward, I declare myself King! King of the Ministry of Magic, King of Hogwashes, King of Middle Earth, King of the Magic Kingdom, and King of France, but c’mon France is just a freebee.

  Ron, who had recovered, said, “Not the Magic Kingdom! Take over Epcot, if you have to, but not the Magic Kingdom!”

  Grumblesnore ignored Ron’s comment. He continued, “But I must say, I’m glad you are the one left alive Putter. Killing Moldyfart would have been nice, but not nearly as satisfying as killing you is going to be! Ha, Ha!

  And then, I will rule happily ever after without any diva-wizards to make my life miserable. And I must say, if anyone deserves to kill you Putter, it’s me! Oh, I can’t tell you how long I’ve dreamed of it. All those years of trying to run a school with you running amok! It was enough, well, to make me want to kill you. Seriously.”

  As Grumblesnore spoke, a tawny cat crept out from under a nearby pile of rubble. Unseen by the man addressing the crowd, it stretched its front paws upon the rock where Elvis was standing. The King continued his speech unaware.

  He said, “For decades, I run a school peacefully and like clockwork, then Harry Putter shows up, and ever since his preschool year, it’s been nothing but trouble! All my problems will be gone, once and for all, when I kill Harry Putter in a duel to the …”

  At that moment, in one wracking cough, the cat cacked up a hairball upon Grumblesnore’s boot. The old man’s eyes rolled up in their sockets and he keeled over dead.

  Harry laughed and shouted, “Long live the King!”

  A chant ensued where everyone there joined in, shouting, “Long live the King! Long live the King!”

  The defenders of Hogwashes ran forward and lifted Ron Cheesley upon their shoulders. They continued to shout, “Long live the King! Long live the King!”

&nb
sp; Hermione picked up the tawny cat and said, “Who’s a Good Girl! Yes, you are! Mommy missed you while she was gone.”

  Harry said, “Wait a sec! Croakshanks is the third bad kitten?”

  Hermione answered, “Why do you think we named her Croakshanks?”

  Chapter 23 – Epilogue: 19 Years Later

  (Note to Readers – In order to experience this epilogue to its fullest potential, please wait until 19 years pass since you read the first 22 chapters.)

  It was the first day of September, which happened to be the first day of preschool for young Pugsly Putter. Harry, his wife, Yu Rang-Putter, and Uncle Regular Smack the Mime were all there at Victoria Station on Platform p (Pi). Harry had ingeniously brought along a Hostess French Apple Pie and had his son, Pugsly, concentrate on it, while running into the illusionary brick wall between platforms three and four. It worked like a charm. And it was much easier than memorizing p to the tenth decimal. It was just a little trick he had learned – part of his life’s experiences – and it sure beat beating your head against a brick wall.

  For Harry, who was now 37 years old, being there was like taking a walk down memory lane. Memories of his many escapades at Hogwashes filled his thoughts. His school days had been the highlight of his life. The career of an Auditor was a lot more boring than Kingsley Shuckthecorn and Mad Dog Hooty made it seem. He spent his days toiling in relative anonymity and leading a very boring middle-aged life. Regardless of his chosen career, it would be hard to top his school years. After all, they did make a movie all about his former adventurous days.

  And it was not just any movie – it was a Benny Bigshot production, so of course, it was a summer blockbuster when it first premiered seventeen years ago. The working title, The Quest to Destroy Lord Moldyfart was changed to The Return of the King. Audiences were mesmerized by the incredible story enhanced by a great script, superb acting, and amazing special effects.