Hermione shuddered and embellished, “Oh, I don’t even want to think about it! Rhomulus Loopin, Wrestlemania Trunks, Kingsley Shuckthecorn! It’s enough to give me the willies! And if that’s not bad enough, there’s Butterpants! Who knows what he’ll do to you?”
Frommundigus visibly and audibly shook away the shivers those thoughts gave him. Then he swallowed and said, “I swear. It was Trollores Underbridge. Find her, and you’ll find your sneakers.”
Harry said, “For your sake, we’d better.”
That evening, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made daring plans. Hermione would ransack Trollores Underbridge’s house looking for the sneakers. Meanwhile, Ron and Harry would disguise themselves, dressing as interns, and infiltrate the Ministry of Magic. Once inside, they’d locate the troll’s office and search it. And they’d even go so far as to find Underbridge and see whether she was wearing the light-up sneakers or not.
Everything they went through the following day was completely unnecessary. The light-up L.A Gear sneakers weren’t in Trollores Underbridge’s home, they weren’t in her office, and they weren’t on her feet. Filcher lied. He was wearing the light-up sneakers the whole time he was talking to the three teenagers. If it weren’t for the long robe he was wearing, they would have spotted the footwear easily.
However, that Monday was not uneventful. Within the Ministry of Magic the day became known as, “The Most Exciting Monday Ever.”
Meanwhile, in Hogwashes on the Most Exciting Monday Ever, two Popular Rich Kids stepped out of the PRK Common room and into the dungeon hallway. They were heading to the Great Eatery, when one of them spotted a large mean-looking cat in the corridor ahead. He noticed several frays in the feline’s ragged outer ears, scars from countless cat fights. The tawny animal turned and padded away.
However, one of the two large boys was in a mischievous mood. He pulled his wand out and said the magic word, “Stupidify!” His spell struck the poor cat. The animal was balanced in motion before the spell struck. Afterward, it fell over senseless.
Shabby complained, “Aw, why’d you go and do that for?”
Foil replied, “Stupid cat doesn’t belong down here. Must be someone’s pet wandering around looking for trouble. I thought I’d oblige.”
“You’re mean!”
Foil exemplified this comment, when he replied, “Hey, I just got an idea. It’d be really funny if we tie-dyed its fur!”
“Where are you going to get the dye from?”
“I’ve already got some. It’s leftover from when I tie-dyed Faco’s white polo shirt. That’s what gave me the idea.”
Shabby smirked and said, “That was funny!”
Foil replied, “Yeah, but this will be even better. Wait until everyone sees a cat walking around with green and pink swirly stripes! People will think their hallucinating!”
Shabby’s smirk widened. He said, “Let’s do it!”
Faco Maldoy, the son of Luscious Maldoy and a PRK student at Hogwashes, was the first person to come upon the consequences of Shabby and Foil’s attempt to tie-dye their first feline. They had unknowingly chosen the worst cat ever to mess around with. Faco entered the men’s bathroom on the second dungeon level and came upon a scene of frightening death in vivid colors. The two large students were lying on the floor. There were two overturned buckets. One had poured forth a florescent pink liquid, the other bright green. These two colors had splashed the two young men, dousing areas of their clothing and skin. These hues had swirled around their fallen bodies and left trails of color on the floor all the way to the drain.
Faco was shaking as he called out, “S-S-Shabby? F-F-Foil?”
His friends did not move.
He stepped closer, avoiding the remnants of colorful liquid. He noticed the small prints of an animal’s feet in pink and green.
He saw two red claw marks, deeply scratched into Foil’s arms. He saw a pink florescent ball of fur on Foil’s brightly dyed neck.
He surveyed Shabby and found a similar raking set of scratches on the back of his wrist and hand and a tawny hairball resting in the corner of his eye, alongside his nose.
He called out loudly, “Shabby! Foil!”
Neither boy moved.
He looked closely at their chests, neither was breathing. Faco couldn’t believe it. They were dead!
He screamed and ran to find the Headmaster, Carnivorous Ape.
The tawny cat leapt silently from its hiding place and dashed through the bathroom door before it swung closed.
Chapter 8 – Aftermath
When Harry came to, he was surprised to find himself in a forest, lying on top of a pile of gold coins – galleys. The scar on his forehead hurt terribly, until he realized it wasn’t only the scar, but his whole head that hurt.
Next to him was an expanse of wavy strawberry-blonde hair. Harry knew immediately it was Hermione.
When he sat up, he felt a twinge in his upper arm and wondered if he had bumped into something. From a sitting position, he could see Hermione was asleep. However, it was odd that she was wearing an orange jumpsuit and had a pair of handcuffs attached to one wrist. He moved her hair aside to make sure it really was Hermione after all. Despite a noticeable swollen black eye, Harry recognized his good friend.
However, other observations now vied for his attention. The foremost was Frommundigus Filcher. His dead body was fifteen meters away and had been run through. A heavy jousting lance was sticking upward at an angle from his chest. On Frommundigus Filcher’s head a half-gallon of chocolate chip ice cream was melting and oozing into his hair.
Putter knew without a doubt, the thief was dead. Harry’s sudden and rapid intake of breath made Hermione stir. She let out a tiny sweet little mew of dismay.
He also noticed Ron was lying nearby, next to Santa’s sack. His best friend was still wearing his rented wedding robes, which were in horrendous condition. They were noticeably singed, cut, ripped and stained. His hair was also messier than usual. Harry’s eyebrow knit when he noticed there was a sock on one of Ron’s hands. He looked carefully and saw the rise and fall of Ron’s chest. Thank goodness his friend was alive and breathing.
Harry stood up and again felt the momentary pain of his upper arm. Gold coins slid and clinked as he moved. Hermione opened her good eye, winced, and made a noise that wasn’t nearly as cute as her previous one.
Harry whispered, “Hermione, where the heck are we?”
She hoarsely said, “Where we camped during the World Tea Cup a few years ago.”
She sat up, stretched, and added, “I abberated us here last night.”
Ron snorted, “Mommy.” Then he stirred awake with a groan, “Oh, my aching back! Oh, my neck!”
Harry asked, “What happened to Frommundigus?” He stepped over to the thief’s dead body.
Ron answered, “Oh, he died.”
Harry scoffed, “Obviously, but how?”
Cheesley returned the sarcasm, “Obviously, he lost a joust.”
Harry ignored this comment. He had just noticed that Frommundigus was wearing sneakers. Harry looked closer. They were L.A Gear sneakers. Harry kicked the bottom of Frommundigus’ foot.
Hermione called out, “Don’t tell me you’re still mad at him?”
Harry kicked again, harder. The heel of the sneaker lit up with flashing red lights.
Filcher was wearing the light-up sneakers.
Harry whooped with delight. “We’ve got The Sneakers!”
Ron said, “Oh, wow! This is so great. I thought this whole hoaxcrock thing was going to be difficult, but this is going to be a snap! We’re practically done. All we got to do now is kill Snakey the Anaconda.”
Hermione corrected him, “Actually, Ron, we don’t know how many hoaxcrocks there are. For all we know there could be two or three more out there.”
Harry said, “I’m going to try them on.”
Ron asked, “Why do you get the first turn!”
Harry replied, “Because I’m older.”
&nbs
p; Ron said, “Darn, I never get the first turn.”
Harry removed the light-up sneakers from the dead man’s feet. It felt immensely great just to be holding them. He took off his own sneakers and put the L.A. Gear on. As he did, he was annoyed at the twinge he felt in his upper right arm. However, once he was wearing the light-ups, he felt so wonderful, he promptly forgot all about it. Harry already thought he was so much better than everyone else, without the light-up sneakers. With them, he felt incredible, just incredible.
He exclaimed, “Whoa! These really are the best sneakers in the world!”
“That’s what Kreeper said.” Hermione asked, “What’s that supposed to mean anyway?”
Harry cried out, “I feel like I could conquer the world!”
Hermione scowled. She didn’t like the sound of that. She suggested, “Maybe you should take them off. It might not be a good idea to wear them. After all, there’s a portion of the most evil wizard known to man’s soul inside them. Who knows what that might do?”
Harry ignored her and said, “Hermione, you’ve got to try these on!”
Harry took the sneakers off and begrudgingly handed them to Hermione to put on. He suddenly was annoyed that he couldn’t both wear them and share them at the same time. Not only that, but his arm was now bothering him again.
As Hermione changed into the light-up sneakers, Harry pulled the right sleeve of his robe up and found a bandage on his arm. He said, “Hey, do either of you remember what happened to my arm?”
“Beat’s me,” answered Ron.
Hermione exclaimed, “Holy Crap! These sneakers are…” She jumped up and began a happy dance.
Ron wanted a try. He called out, “My turn!”
“I just got them on. You have to wait!”
“Then, I call next turn!”
Harry was annoyed. He wished he hadn’t said anything out loud about the sneakers, then he wouldn’t have to share them. He peeled back the bandage. Beneath it, he had a Fungus Eater Mark, a mushroom, newly tattooed on his upper arm.
Now, he was really annoyed. He cried out, “Oh, come on! A Fungus Eater Mark? You’ve got to me kidding me!”
Hermione sang, “Oh, well.”
Then she took a more serious tone and said, “Wait, I just remembered something. Last night, I think we were all drunk.”
Ron scoffed, “No duh!”
Hermione stuck her tongue out at him and said, “Anyway, a bunch of friends you guys made at the ministry came back with us to Grim Old Place. They wanted to help beat up Frommundigus for lying to us.”
Ron asked, “So what?”
Hermione replied, “Some of them could have been Fungus Eaters. After all, a lot of Fungus Eaters work there. There’s likely more than ever, now that they’ve taken over the Ministry. And since some of our ‘friends’ last night were probably our enemies, our enemies have now been inside Grim Old Place. The protection spells won’t keep them out any more.”
Harry exclaimed, “Crap! So we can’t go back there then? Oh, man. That place was so great. It was the perfect headquarters for our hoaxcrock destroying mission. Can’t you update the protection spells?”
Hermione scoffed, “As if! We’d have to get the whole Order over to help us do that. Plus the Fart Lord would know exactly where we were. He’d come after us for sure. But don’t worry, we can camp out here. We still have everything I packed including a tent and sleeping bags. We’re totally set, and no one will know where we are this time.”
Ron exclaimed, “My turn!”
Hermione knew he was referring to the sneakers. She ran and called out after her, “First you have to catch me!”
Much later, after they had pitched a tent and set up camp, Ron finally got his turn to wear the L.A. Gear. When he put them on, he said, “I don’t know what we did to Frommundigus, but it was worth it.”
Hermione and Harry agreed.
Ron asked, “Are we really going to destroy these sneakers? I mean, do we have to?”
Hermione chimed in, “Well, we don’t have to destroy them now. We can wait and destroy them after we find all the other hoaxcrocks first.”
Suddenly, they all found themselves thinking the same thought, however, none spoke of it. They each realized how horrible it would be if they were to find and destroy the remaining hoaxcrocks. If they managed to accomplish this, they’d have to destroy the light-up sneakers. And that would be a travesty! They could barely stomach the idea of sharing the L.A Gear by taking turns with their two friends. However, if they destroyed the footwear, they would never have another turn again. It was a revolting thought.
And so, that afternoon, the Quest to Destroy Lord Moldyfart hit a giant speed bump. The three teenagers did absolutely nothing to find out anything more about the remaining hoaxcrocks. And they were all quite relieved that there was a ready excuse, for they simply didn’t know what to do next. They often told each other they were busy “thinking about the problem” or “contemplating a solution.” However, none of them ever did.
When they were wearing the sneakers, they felt so magnificent, they couldn’t waste the opportunity with such negative thoughts. It seemed the problem was all blown out of proportion anyway. It was really too insignificant to consider. Instead, they often made the fascinating observation that it was really cool how the sneakers fit each of them, despite the fact that they all had different-sized feet.
And when it wasn’t their turn, they became irritable and grumpy. It was easy to convince themselves that they were in too bad of a mood to do their best thinking anyway. Their thoughts were always focused on getting another opportunity to wear the sneakers. They brainstormed ways to prolong their turn at the expense of their friends.
And so, the three teenagers camped in the nameless woods. Their camp site became larger and larger as the days passed. They were constantly improving it. When they needed something, a moment later, they had pulled it out of Saint Nick’s sack. They had electrical generators running on gasoline. They had television and video games. They had furniture and home appliances. They became lazier and lazier as the hot days of August turned to warm days of early September. And they marveled at the size of the pile of discarded balled-up gift wrap as it grew larger and larger as the arrival of autumn came and went.
They ate the food that Hermione had packed in abundance. Harry’s belly was growing noticeably. Ron was becoming bigger too. However, his larger frame could carry more weight, and so it was less noticeable as he packed on the kilograms. Only Hermione managed to maintain her figure.
The nights became colder as October slipped away. And then one November night, Harry heard a disturbance outside the tent. He heard the sound of voices. Quickly, the three teenagers went out to investigate. Outside they discovered some goblins, including their leader, Gripbutt, country singers Tim McGraw and Faith Hill, actor Harrison Ford, weatherman Al Roker, half a dozen alpacas, their fellow Nerd and Harry and Ron’s former roommate at Hogwashes, Spleen Thomas, and Sir Robin and his minstrels.
When asked, they explained that they were all fugitives on the run from the Ministry of Magic, as were all who opposed the Fart Lord. While Harry was growing fatter, Lord Pull-My-Finger had begun his reign of terror. He was persecuting his many enemies.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all felt quite guilty and embarrassed. They fed the large group dinner and assured them that the three teenagers were working hard to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Smelled. They lied and said they felt confident a breakthrough was imminent.
Spleen Thomas asked them, “Dudes, did you hear that Gringo’s Bank got robbed? Totally outrageous. A terrible run on the bank happened right after. No one thinks their money is safe anymore. The Ministry had to guarantee everyone’s funds, otherwise the bank would have folded without any customers.”
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all felt quite guilty and embarrassed again. They pretended to be surprised.
When the eclectic group left, they went away with a large tiramisu. The three teenagers fell right back i
nto their recent habits. November slipped away, and when the first snowfall arrived in mid-December, the three admired the tracks the sneakers left behind in the snow.
And then, one December night, Hermione went to bed wearing The Sneakers, and the next morning, Harry had them on.
Ron cried foul, “Hey! You skipped my turn!”
Hermione raised her voice to accuse Harry, “You took them in the middle of the night!”
Harry replied, “I did not. I was asleep. Someone must have put them on my feet and framed me.”
Harry was looking at Ron as he said this.
Ron blew up, “Someone? You mean me! Why don’t you come right out and say it?”
Harry shrugged his shoulders and said, “Fine, Ron, you framed me.”
Ron was livid. He yelled, “Did not, LIAR! That’s so dumb! Why would I even do that? I’m the one who was sleeping.”
Hermione said, “Calm down, Ron. I think it’s more likely that Harry stole them in his sleep.”
Harry cried out, “Stole them? They’re mine, you know! I’m the one who found them.”
Hermione was outraged, “Wow, what a jerk! You really do think you’re better than everyone else. We were all here Harry. Just because you woke up first, doesn’t make them yours. They’re ours.”
Harry snottily said, “I’m not the one with the big head.”
Ron reasoned, “Look, you two, I haven’t had a turn for, like, sixteen hours. I’m the one who got skipped. It’s my turn and you both know it! You’re always pulling stunts like this and I’m sick of it. Did I get the first turn? No. I went last, remember! And now, you’re trying to take advantage of me like this? Gimme them!”
Hermione argued, “Like hell, it’s your turn! It was my turn to wear them last night and you know it. I’m the one whose turn got stolen in the middle of the night. If it’s anyone’s turn, it’s mine.”
Ron yelled, “That doesn’t mean I should be skipped. Take it out of Harry’s next turn.”
Harry Putter & the Deathly Hairballs Page 8