Title: Prize Pig Pimple College [Hogwarts Spoof!]
Authors: Goonipers & Barb
Fandoms: Harry Potter & Parodies and Spoofs
Rating: T or PG13 for swears.
Notes: Barb came up with all the parody names and ideas, and I wrote the school days and battle.
Summary: When it's Harold's - Roldy's - turn to go to sixth form, he picks the hardest subjects and the hardest life at defeating Lady Goldiewart, the local transvestite queen.
Harold Rotter, known to his friends as the cutesy name Roldy, not Harry, which was far too famous for his liking, was a secret wizard and a spy.
He exited the magical taxi cab in style, wearing a turquoise robe and hat. His trunk floated behind him. He was sixteen and old enough to go to Prize Pig Pimple College, the best magical college around for young adults.
He had picked the hardest courses for his ASPs - Astounding Student Progression tests and was looking forward to them. He was a high achiever and had scored all 8 and 9's in his end of year exams. His favourite was Potions and his worst was Defence Against the Dark Arts as he had had lazy tutors.
Roldy had come from a large family full of step-siblings and half-siblings because dad had gotten around a lot, and he'd been adopted by his Uncle and Aunt to make room for the young'uns. He was to stay at college in a dormitory. He hoped to get into either Pixie or Dwarf House, which were predominately white. Roldy was biracial and wanted to even it out a bit.
Dark Elf and Brownie Houses were predominately black or Indian. They had an old-fashioned sorting system that was rumoured by white kids to be random. Roldy didn't know what it was.
Each had its own emblem or magical pet. Dark Elf had an owl, which made sense as they were all good readers. Dwarf had a rabbit, and they tended to date a lot, usually people from other houses or burrows. Brownie had a tiger or a lion, depending if there were more Asians or black kids. And lastly Pixie - or Puck House - had a sly, clever fox. Those kids weren't very well liked, but Roldy didn't mind going in there as he had good people skills.
Roldy trudged up the steps and wondered if wheelchairs could fly. There were no ramps in sight. Maybe they had another door with a lift, he thought.
He rang the doorbell. A butler opened the door. He was black and posh.
"This is the front entrance," he said. "Students go round the back, over the lake," he said louder.
"So-rry!" muttered Roldy, adjusting his hat. He ran down the steps, his trunk still doing a U-turn behind him.
He wandered through some sticky reeds, worrying about the mud up to his boots. He was technically in the lake and could see the car park, where the students were being offloaded by concerned parents. He didn't know how to get there.
He sat on his trunk and clicked his heels. Suddenly the trunk rose up and flew into the air. It dumped him head-first into a rose bush. He got out, itchy and scratchy, and staggered in front of a car. He didn't know how it got there; it was just there.
A black girl leapt out. She had a weird hairstyle, all shaved down either side and a thick Afro wedge in the middle.
"Sorry!" she called. "My dad has an electric car!"
She must be from a non-magical family, thought Roldy. She was wearing a silver hoop earring in her left-hand ear and black robes. She grabbed the pointy hat from the back seat and her hand luggage and went round to the boot to grab the rest.
She met him in the road, and helped him up. His feet were slippery from the lake and it showed on his turquoise robe hem.
"My name's Hermi Ranger," she said, offering him a hand.
"I'm Roldy Rotter," muttered Roldy. "It's short for Harold. Piss off!" This was to the next magically-chugging car that roared along the parking strip.
He took her hand and they walked to the edge where the trunks safely stood. He let go, feeling like a little baby kid. He wasn't. He was sixteen and biracial about to go into a white kid's school.
He opened his trunk and rummaged through it for the look of it. He found his guide and flipped through it. The old assembly photos were all white and so were the teachers. It had gotten better though in recent years, but the sorting system said it all.
"I've read all of it," chuffed Hermi. "I've already read all our textbooks."
"What a clever clogs," said Roldy, sounding like his dad, what he remembered anyway.
She took umbrage. He knew big words like that.
"Sorry!" he called as she stalked off.
Next he was besaulted by a blond bespectacled boy called Ducko Badfoy. Roldy tried not to laugh at the name. He ignored his hand.
"I don't mix with your kind very often," sneered Ducko. He was very white and pale. He was definitely going to Puck House, thought Roldy.
"My dad was white," explained Roldy, just in case he got into Puck House with his people skills, which were lacking today due to nerves.
"I see."
"My mum was black, that's how I got all this caramel hair."
Ducko peered down his nose through little spectacles. "And why do you have ginger highlights?"
"I don't!" It came out in a rush. "I don't have ginger or red highlights or whatnot."
Ducko sneered. "Suit yourself anyway." He strolled off, his beige robe caught in his trunk lid.
Roldy made it out of the car park alive - some of those people were maniacs - and into a boat! They were lined up on the jetty, little rowing boats, each with a suited butler on the oars. Roldy hoped even then they were magically powered somehow.
He slid in next to a red haired white girl, who turned out to be called Gilly Squirrel. She was from a large family too and had been magical for generations.
Roldy's family had only been magical for two. They'd been black for generations on his mum's side, and he was of the first biracial kids they'd had in the whole family. He wondered if they were racist, but he dismissed it. They were nice to everyone.
Their butler was light-skinned Asian, Thai or Chinese, guessed Roldy. He saluted.
The butler saluted back. "Present, sir!" he cheered. The boat rocked as Hermi stepped in and they almost went over.
"There's nowhere else," she sniffed. Gilly ignored her, and like his mum, Roldy made the introductions.
"...and I'm from Manchester," finished Roldy. "Although my dad's from Derby." And he said it 'Darby'.
"City boy," teased Gilly. "I'm from a magical house from god knows where in the countryside. We keep chickens and a cow and a pig."
"A prize pig with pimples," said the other boy in the boat. He introduced himself as Won-Won. He was Asian, but didn't look it. He was biracial, guessed Roldy, and could pass for white.
"Why is the school called this? It doesn't keep pigs or many animals, just the emblems," sighed Gilly.
"It used to house a farm," answered Hermi, who'd read all the books, remembered Roldy. "To support all the college kids with red meat so they'd be athletic. It's different nowadays and supports organic and free range."
"It has wind powered windmills, too, not electric," added Gilly.
"I think they've adapted the magical tree to solar power," said Hermi. "There's a note about it on the Internet."
"Wait a moment," said Won-Won. "Prize Pig Pimples has an Internet website?!" He was from a magical family, sussed Roldy.
"Yes, but it's not called that online. It's called Hogwarts instead, and pretends to be for little kids, like eleven. It gets all the details wrong."
"Eleven's secondary," said Won-Won, looking pleased with himself. "My friend went to one."
"What's your friend's name? We might meet him or her here," said Roldy, not believing a word of it.
"Er... I don't know. I've forgotten," mumbled Won-Won.
They ignored him and the Butler unfortunately for the rest of the boat trip. Hermi was becoming fast friends with Gilly.
They all got out and filed single file into the double doors open for them. There they met Professor McDonalds with a nifty haircut. She was nice and had dyed hair too.
She was Scottish. "Och Aye the Noo!" she cried to greet them. They said it back like little kids.
"Well done. This here is Prize Pig Pimples College, one of the oldest magical colleges of its kind. The farm and the prize pig contest may be defunct, but its reputation lives on."
Someone put up a hand. It was Won-Won.
"Yes?"
"What about Lady Goldiewart seeking to take over the school and turn it into a beauty pageant for pigs?!"
"You have nothing to fear here. Lady Goldiewart is in the next town, already enrolled in a new course... teaching makeup!"
"And how to talk to foxes!" called someone out from the small crowd. Some of the latecomers looked wet, thought Roldy.
"Not true," said the Professor. "Lady Goldiewart was merely in Pixie House, and that is all." She led them into the Great Hall which resembled a cathedral made with gray stone. It looked cold and demanding.
There was a stool in the centre with a piece of cloth atop. Four large tables dominated the hall, with a fifth perpendicular to the others at the head. There were empty with no pews or benches.
"Dwarf, Pixie, Dark Elf, and Brownie," whispered Hermi behind him. "The four Houses."
"And Unicorn, the teachers Table," added Gilly. "It's tradition to call them that."
Professor McDonalds announced, "It's going to be shaken up this year, and we're mixing all the races." Behind her, the crowd went wild. They were finally ditching the segregation! No longer would they have different dormitories and sporting teams. For some years now, they'd been mixing classes, but this was a leap in the right direction.
"We're resorting everyone," she added. "Year Twelve first, then the others. Then we all say grace and eat."
"Please sit on the stool, Aryan!" called the Headteacher. He appeared in a burst of smoke and was holding a long, unravelled scroll.
Aryan, a dark-skinned Indian boy, stepped forward. He sat on the stool shaking and looking pale at being first, and wore the bib.
Roldy tried not to laugh. He had to wear a what?
"Am I wearing it right?!" called Aryan, clutching the strings to do up. Just then a fox jumped out and bit him. "Ow!"
The stool divided itself and the replicate with Aryan on top slid along the tiled mosaic floor to Pixie House, whose emblem was the fox.
"Burgundy!" called the Headteacher. "Aryan, leave the bib behind, just hold it next time."
"Next time?" called everyone. Was he an old fussypot racist who wanted the segregation back? Ducko pushed his glasses up his nose.
Burgundy sat on the stool and held up the bib. An owl swooped out and raked him with her claws.
"Dark Elf House," said Professor McDonalds. The stool slid over and deposited on the floor halfway there.
The Headteacher, Professor Bumbles, helped him up. His back creaked, and Roldy could hear him from the other side of the hall.
Both Gilly and Hermi went to Brownie House. Roldy couldn't tell what they had in common other than talking.
Next, it was his turn. He scooted over and held up the bib. A tiger leapt out.
"Brownie House!" called Professor McDonalds. She was a bit redundant, thought Roldy as he hung onto the replicate stool. It was quite fast and exhilarating. He landed next to Hermi and Gilly, who parted to make way for him. They talked in front of him about Hermi's hairstyle.
"This wedge, I'll have you know, is my Mohawk," confided Hermi. "I wanted to go bald all over like Okoye, but mum wouldn't let me."
"Wow," said Gilly. "I don't know what you're talking about, but it sounds awesome."
"You haven't seen Black Panther?! I thought everyone magical had seen it, judging by the comments on Facebook."
"Hermi, I have no idea what you're talking about, but I love you."
"Aww, I love you, too, sweetie. That's kind of you."
Harold Rotter leant his chin on his forearms on the table. It was going to be a long night.
By the time everyone in the whole of Prize Pig Pimple College had been sorted, it was almost too late for dinner. They'd been a lot of roast carvery meat, and not a lot of vegetarian suited for non-Indian. It had been too spicy for Roldy, who liked the odd bit of vegan food, especially gluten-free.
He picked at a piece of meat that had recently gone moo judging by the colour.
Hermi had had gammon, and Gilly had eaten chicken. Hermi liked steamed veg, but there was only boiled half to death and mashed. It was swede and carrot, and not very exciting.
Roldy missed his aunt's cooking. She had been a kind chef. He looked forward to dessert, like ice-cream or sorbet, but there wasn't any. It had been stodgy chocolate cake and custard. Hermi turned her nose up at it.
She put up a hand, but it was ignored, so she lifted her wand - which was banned until practice tomorrow - and shot sparks into the air. Instant detention!
Roldy felt sorry for her, and patted her arm.
"Ow!" she said. "Why did you hit me for?"
"I just punched you. Poor you in detention already."
Gilly ate everything. Obviously, very magical families didn't mind old-fashioned food. That was before Jamie Oliver's School Dinners. Roldy wondered if it were fatty and sinewy turkey twizzlers next.
They went to bed feeling full and heavy. It had really been stodgy. Roldy parted at the boys dormitory, and realised that both Gilly and Hermi and Won-Won were all staying overnight.
Time to pay rent. Roldy gave the cashier his debit card and paid for a good room to share with someone else. Unfortunately, it was Won-Won, who was in Brownie House.
His trunk floated from the corridor to inside. There was a good view of the lake, if that was your idea of fun. Suddenly, his phone rang. He checked. It was just his mum. He decided to ignore her and call her back after he'd unpacked.
He also had some texts from his uncle, aunt, siblings and friends. He vowed to answer them all before he went to bed. He wondered if there was a TV in the common room downstairs. There were still no lifts for wheelchairs, and he noticed that he hadn't seen one disabled kid here. So much for equality, Prize Pig Pimples College.
He flipped the bird at the ceiling, after jumping on the best bed. Won-Won was struggling with his trunk. It had jammed at diagonal corners in the door. Roldy groaned. The bathroom wasn't en suite.
He answered a few texts in the meantime and checked social media. He took a selfie of himself and a half-unpacked trunk into a chest of drawers, and posted it on Snapchat. His Instagram account just didn't load on his phone like it did at home. There was something wrong with the Internet connection here. He switched to mobile data, but that was expensive, so he switched back.
Won-Won extracted his trunk. It squeaked into the room.
"Why did you take the furthest bed?" he enquired. Roldy looked up.
"I don't know. I like it. Why?"
"This bed has wheels," complained Won-Won. "I can't jump on it."
Roldy sighed inwardly. "I've just unpacked all my stuff. You can have the wardrobe for robes."
Won-Won looked like he was hunting around for a coat hanger for some greying underpants.
Roldy said, "Fine. I'll move my stuff out of the top drawer."
Won-Won beamed. "Thanks, my friend." He was definitely magical family, thought Roldy. He went back to texts. One unpacked item, one text, one book moved... It made the work less boring.
Soon his trunk was all books and shrunk-down broomstick. He was looking forward to Broomstick Football.
He wanted to catch the Snatch. Or snatch the Snatch. He wondered this year what the lucky item would be that won all the points. He had played it at home with his younger siblings before he'd moved to his uncle and aunt's home.
He hoisted his toiletry bag out and headed to the door. He wanted to clean his teeth. He suspected it was an early night with no TV, as he couldn't hear the telly, but he wanted to check downstairs too.
Roldy went to the door, tripping over Won-Won's books dashed about, and bumped into Hermi.
"Hermi, what are you doing in the Boys' Corridor?" he whispered.
"To see how you are, silly," she said and gave him a piece of paper. "Here's the wifi code, and our numbers, and our avatars."
"Your... oh, your names online. Thanks, give my love to Gilly. I'm going to check out the TV downstairs."
She laughed. "It's too old-fashioned for that. There's no TV, no computers, and they won't let me use my laptop. The cord unplugs itself when I tried to charge it. It's phones only until the battery runs down, I think."
"What? They're barbarians! How can they live like this?!"
"There's wired phones - landline - downstairs along one corridor like in an airport. Have you seen Airplane? It's like that."
He hugged Hermi against all the evils in the world. "I wish I hadn't come, but then I wouldn't have met you or Gilly."
"Who's in your room? We all have to share."
"Won-Won, the nutter. I don't think he's Asian at all. I think he's white and pretending. I forget what his real name is from the sorting."
"It was a magical-sort of name, I think. I forget too. Burgundy?"
"No, not that. He tried to hang up his underwear in the wardrobe."
"At least you're not in with Ducko. I was watching you in the car park."
"He's going to be hell. I don't think he's a geek at all."
"Just because he wears glasses? No, he's not. I think he's racist. At least the teachers aren't any more. It used to be hell for the first black students. People used to think they were from Africa."
"Hah. They didn't have a clue. I gave up and only looked at the pictures, and read the ending," he added, when he saw her face. "They're now half multicultural. It took a lot of pressure."
He linked arms with her and walked to the bathroom. He left her at the door.
"Be careful heading back to your own dormitory," he hinted.
She stood on tiptoe to meet his eye level. Hermi blinked. "I will," she said, and strode off.
Roldy went into the bathroom, foamed up his toothbrush and cleaned his teeth, among other stuff. He could do some magic without a wand, and had some control. In there, he changed into his pyjamas so he didn't have to change in front of Won-Won. His turquoise robe magically disappeared over his arm.
Roldy padded downstairs to have a snoop. He'd almost forgotten that he was a spy, and wanted to suss out the former white Dwarf and Puck Houses for his younger siblings when they arrived next year. His family included two sets of twins.
There was no TV, a lot of bookcases, some empty, and lots of squishy sofas and armchairs. There was an electric fire and some radiators dotted around. Unfortunately, it was a warm September and everything down there was boiling.
He left it, and found the phones. He copied down his mum's number onto his hand and used a pay phone free of charge with magic.
"Hello Mum!" he greeted her. "I got here safely. Thanks for the cab."
"Jamie! Stop swearing. Tiana get out of those high heels, you'll break your neck! You are not leaving the flat looking like that, young madam!"
"Mum? It's Roldy," he shouted. He'd caught her at a bad time. He should've called back when she'd called.
"Are you wearing your pyjamas?" she said, peering down the phone at him. He dropped the phone in shock. It hung from its cord, swaying.
"I used to go to Prize Pig Pimples, you know," she called. "I know how everything works."
"I don't think they let us charge laptops here," he said, picking up the phone.
"I see you've made friends. Jamie, put that down! Stop eating that, Freddy. Paint's not good for you. How are you, darling?"
"I'm very well, mum. I almost got knocked over by an electric car, and almost drowned in the lake."
"That's nice. Jamie! Jamie! Stop doing that. Go do that revolting thing in your room, NOW please."
"I made friends with Hermi and Gilly," he said, looking at the notepaper. "Do you want me to text you their sites, mum? So you can suss them out?"
"No, Jamie, that just wouldn't do. PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON, Freddy, NOW!"
"Fine, mum. I won't. I don't know if the iPhone will charge or not yet."
She looked at him. He could see one big brown eye looking him over.
"I expect it will. It's modern now. What house are you in?"
"Brownie, with Hermi and Gilly, mum."
"YES!" He saw her back up and punch the air. "My little boy's a Brownie. YES!"
She clapped her spare hand against a magical hand. Jamie looked like he was calming down. He was 14 and horny these days. He was an embarrassment to the whole family. Why couldn't he cover it up?
Freddy did something naughty out of shot, judging by Jamie's face. Mum hadn't noticed the toddler.
"Mum you make it sound like I'm a Girl Guide," he whined. "Watch out for Freddy."
The phone ticked over. "You haven't got long. How much did this cost you?"
"Less than my texts outside of family and friends, mum. I want to save the battery."
She sneered. "You shouldn't have taken all those selfies," she said, then said before he could deny it, "Are you settling in well?"
"The food is terrible."
"The custard used to be lumpy. At least there's no corporal punishment these days."
His eyes rolled back in his head. He couldn't even begin to imagine what magical punishment looked like. Like, torture, really.
"Everything vegetarian is spicy, mum. You could have warned me. You were Dark Elf, weren't you?"
"Black and proud," she said. "It says on the website it's all mixed up this term. That must have come as a shock to the teachers. Hah!"
"It came as a shock to the racists," he corrected her. The phone started hastily ticking, and he couldn't magic it better.
"Love you, mum," he shouted down the phone before it cut off.
"Love you, Roldy," she cried back, her voice dwindling and cutting off.
He went to bed.
The next morning, he had Assembly and Potions. He was looking forward to the latter, it being his best subject.
Roldy met up with Hermi and Gilly in the breakfast canteen. There was toast and marmalade, and Scottish porridge. The juice looked a bit weird. He tapped a jug.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Rhubarb juice," said Gilly. "Or prune juice to make you go!"
"Disgusting," said Ducko, behind her. "Everyone just magics it out."
Hermi licked her dipped finger. "I think it's pumpkin," she whispered. The chef looked cross, but slung another round of hot toast onto the counter.
Roldy selected some with jam instead of marmalade. There was no worthwhile cereal, but there was a jug of milk, so he poured some out.
After breakfast, they headed towards Assembly. When they arrived, there were no seats. Roldy dreaded going cross-legged in his robe. It was standard black now, and made him look pale and deadly, when he should have looked tanned and bronze. His caramel hair had been corn-rowed by magic this morning within seconds.
Hermi was wearing a shade of red lipstick, and Gilly looked natural but awesome. Her red hair glowed in the warm sunlight.
Assembly was a standing affair, it turned out, with Christian hymns and very little information. The Headteacher, Professor Bumbles, told them all to wash and keep their hands to themselves.
Roldy involuntary thought of Jamie. He was better than that. And older, just older, really.
Next was Potions as they all filed out. That was in the Lab, a large airy room with high slit windows to let the steam out.
Roldy unpacked his books from his floating trunk, which no one seemed to have with them as book carrier, so he stashed it under his workbench and hoped no one would notice.
Ducko did. "Brought your nanny with you, Mouldy Roldy?" he jeered.
"Yes, I did, Fucko-Ducko." He stuck his tongue out, childishly. Ducko shut up. He must've been called that before. He pushed his glasses up with one finger.
Won-Won showed up, late. Everyone had everything out, even pencil cases. He staggered into the room with books that he didn't have in Assembly and sprawled next to Gilly. She wrinkled her nose.
Their Professor this term or year was Professor Snap, one of the college's most feared professors. Roldy hoped it was for the term, then they would swop.
"Today we will be making a Draught of Death," he announced, gazing around the room. Roldy stuck his chest out, hoping he would be picked.
Hermi put her hand up. "Isn't that illegal, sir, nowadays?"
"No. Prize Pig College has always been a cut above the rest. You will learn!"
The Professor waved his wand, and small cauldrons appeared each to them on the work benches. Roldy's had a small Bunsen burner underneath it.
"Sir? What's this?"
"Silence! You shall keep quiet at all times, students!" he spat the last word. Obviously, he didn't know about learners or people yet.
Potions ingredients began to appear on the work benches. Roldy began to chop his up enthusiastically. His mum had taught him how to cook when she'd had the first set of twins ages back, and that gave him some flair, he thought.
"Do not eat it," instructed Professor Snap to Won-Won.
"But I only like a nibble, sir," said Won-Won sheepishly.
Roldy opened up his textbook mid-way like Hermi. The Draught of Death was advanced. Unfortunately, Roldy couldn't tell one potion leaf from another from the way they'd been cut.
He tried to piece together a leaf on top of the page outline. It matched! He slung it in the cauldron, and added magical water from the tap.
No one else had a Bunsen burner, so he didn't light it and set it bubbling with an incantation like Hermi did. Gilly was having trouble next to them, and so was Won-Won, who had obviously never used a knife before.
Roldy gave Gilly the Bunsen burner. "Here, use this instead of magic," he said.
"Quiet!"
Gilly shrugged the Bunsen burner onto Won-Won, and tapped him on the arm. He plugged it in and lit it.
The smell of gas rolled out. Professor Snap gagged and opened the slit windows. "Turn that off!" he yelled, and yanked the Bunsen burner away.
Won-Won looked downcast.
"Detention!"
Afterwards, Hermi said, "I'm in detention, too, for the sparks yesterday."
Won-Won cheered up.
Roldy asked, "What's your real name again?"
"Marigold, but I hate it. It's a Muggle-name for a girl."
"Muggle? What's Muggle?"
"It's an offensive term for a No-Maj," said Gilly. "You're not supposed to say it."
"And because of Lord Goldiewart," added Won-Won.
"Lady Goldiewart these days," said Gilly again. "She's gotten better now and runs a make-up counter in a department store."
"Which store?"
"I can't remember. Somewhere posh. Next town. We're allowed shopping trips there."
"Pimpletown?"
"No, that's the local one. It's shut down now, no one goes there. It's historically preserved with magic."
Roldy thought of his thundercloud birthmark on his chest. It was prophecised that someone with a lightning bolt tattoo would defeat the once-evil Lord Goldiewart and stop him from turning the school into pigs. When it used to be a school, not a sixth form college.
He thought of all those poor eleven year olds turned out from their families, and forced to live at boarding school until they were eighteen. There had been shitloads of bullying and torture. Mostly, from the teachers. They'd been beaten, starved, and abused. No one had gone home over the holidays, and the place turned into a sort of orphanage. An expensive orphanage.
It was better now. Ofsted had gotten to it about three decades ago, and tried to shut the place down. Rumours were that Prize Pig Pimples bribed the education board.
It's real name wasn't Prize Pig Pimples, just Prize Pig like Professor Snap had said. Gods know why it was called that, a remembrance left over from Edwardian rural times. All the kids called it by its full name, Pimples. How could you not call it that?!
The school song was worse, and had a rude version. Roldy hadn't heard the full version yet, only the daft one at the end of the guide.
Hermi had been explaining about Pimpletown. It was where all the servant staff had lived. They lived in the castle now, a few doors down from their dormitories, and the teachers lived en suite. The Headmaster hadn't changed his room in a hundred years, it was rumoured. He was 150.
He also wore the sorting bib on his head as a nightcap, he learned. Surely that was a myth.
It was Transfiguration next. Roldy was half-looking forward to it, but not as much as Hermi.
Just then, a troll lumbered into the dungeons. They were warned about it on loudspeaker.
"WARNING! WARNING! A troll has wandered into Puck House," called the student announcer. "Sorry, miss, a troll has wandered into Pixie House. Please leave immediately to the courtyard."
"Is this fire drill magical style gone wrong?" asked Hermi.
"No, it's a troll," said Gilly, taking her hand and leading her into the girls' toilets on that floor. Roldy followed them. It was nice in there.
Ducko followed too and so did Won-Won.
"Hey," said Gilly. "This is the girls' loo, you know." She stood defensively.
Roldy noticed that a shield was forming protectively around her. Hermi stood on the outside.
"He's throwing curses!" yelled the announcer across the loudspeaker. "He's taken down seven - no eight students - so far, sorry, miss."
Someone lumbered past outside. They all went quiet. Ducko locked the door, and hid in a stall.
Gilly opened the girls' loo door carefully. "It's out here!" she squeaked.
Hermi got her wand out. So did Won-Won, but he just looked at it. Roldy got his out and frantically tried to remember some hexes, but none came to mind.
Gilly walked out. "Here, troll!" she called. A curse bounced off her shield.
Using her shield as a shield, Hermi dodged behind and shot a curse over Gilly's right ear. The troll roared.
Roldy thought Here goes nothing, and leapt out. He was hit immediately, and began to vomit up hairballs. Won-Won was next and spat out snails.
"We're useless," said Won-Won, in-between snails.
To Roldy's amazement, Hermi countered them. She really was the best witch in the year. She pulled them behind Gilly's shield.
At the far end of the corridor, the troll shuffled one foot to the other. It looked like it was about to charge or fight in a boxing ring. It was large, big, and hairy with dark brown fur. It carried a stave that shot lightning bolts down the corridor.
On instinct, everyone ducked. They'd left Ducko behind in the toilet.
Roldy thought about defending the girls, even though they were doing a good job of it themselves. He leapt out in front and fired off a curse he'd remembered. It rebounded off the troll's stave and fired a lightning bolt down the corridor, right back at him. It hit Roldy in the chest.
It burnt through his black robes and scorched his chest, right below his thundercloud birthmark.
"Cor," said Won-Won. "You're going to defeat Lord Goldiewart."
"Lady Goldiewart," snapped Hermi and Gilly together. They rushed to help him up, Gilly hampered by her dome shield. Hermi dabbed at him with a tissue where it was blistering over fast. Now it just looked like a mark.
"I thought it was supposed to be a tattoo," moaned Roldy. He looked down. There was a thin zigzag scar below his birthmark. "Oh no! Oh shit!"
"You'll just have to beat Lady Goldiewart at make-up," confirmed Gilly. She chuckled. "May the best woman win!"
Roldy was facing off Lady Goldiewart at the make-up counter. He couldn't decide on peach or purple.
Half the school had dragged him here after news of his new scar got around. There was a fine crowd. Hermi had selected a red lipstick that they wouldn't let her wear at school/college.
Gilly was cheering him on. He looked in the huge mirrors. He thought purple would go best with his bronze skin. He picked it.
Lady Goldiewart looked bored. "I would've selected the pink, sweetie," she said, filing her long fingernails.
"That's sexist," explained Hermi. She admired the red. "Pink stinks!"
Roldy reluctantly put it on. The crowd roared. Lady Goldiewart threw down her nail-file and selected hot pink lipstick. She drew a scar on her forehead with it.
"This is where it's supposed to be," she said, pointing. She tapped him on the bare chest. "Not here, sweetie."
"I couldn't help where I was hit," he said, sweating. Now it was eyeshadow, and he wasn't keen on anything apart from manliner.
Won-Won threw him some different brown shades of eyeshadow. "For Brownie House!" he cried.
Roldy opened the powders and selected a dark shade. He put it on his eyelids with a finger like warpaint.
"Now contour," said Lady Goldiewart, handing him blush on a brush. Roldy flung it back. He selected a lighter shade of bronze and tapped it into the corners of his eyes and blended it with his thumb.
He checked the mirror. Gilly surprised him by kissing him on the cheek. She left peach lipstick marks.
"How's this?" he said, pointing. The crowd aahed.
"Better," said Lady Goldiewart, her hands on her hips. She looked a bit like a drag queen, in a blonde gold wig and fantastically contoured make-up. She wore a leopard print catsuit to hide the infamous warts. And although Roldy couldn't see behind or lower down, he imagined her in red high heels with a fox tail. She was taller than he was.
He thought that the make-up battle was stupid, and almost said so, but Gilly looked fabulously turned on. So did Hermi. And so did Won-Won.
He applied blusher and bronzer to one cheek, and then the other. It stuck to the peach lipstick and looked darker.
"And now down here," said Lady Goldiewart, tapping his lower chest.
"NO!" he said, a bit louder than he meant. "I don't need to cover up my birthmark any more!"
What would mum say, eh? he thought. She always got him to wear a T-shirt because it was massive, and people would stare.
Lady Goldiewart smiled like a fox as she thought of something. She lifted off her wig.
"May the best man win," she simpered.
"Hah!" Roldy stood on the chair, and stood on the counter. He strutted along it, knocking over lipstick stands and foundation with his kicks. He stuck his arse out and farted.
The crowd cheered their appreciation. Won-Won started chanted, "Roldy! Roldy!" but no one else joined in. It died off.
Lady Goldiewart grabbed him by an ankle. "What do you think you're doing?!" she hissed angrily. "Get down from there. You'll all get me into trouble!"
Roldy turned and caught sight of himself in a mirror. He'd forgotten he was wearing make-up. He just stood for a second, before he thought of singing the school song. He substituted pimples for warts and sang it, slightly off-key.
Lady Goldiewart folded her massive arms. She pursed her perfectly painted lips next time Roldy caught sight of her.
Won-Won jumped up onto the chair and steadied himself on the counter with his knees. Roldy helped him up. The counter creaked. Then Gilly decided she wanted to get on too, and so did Hermi.
The counter broke under their jumping weight and Roldy tried to grab everyone so that they wouldn't fall. Hermi was quick-thinking and cast a net out of her wand before they smacked the floor.
Lady Goldiewart pressed her hands to her mouth. "You horrible kids, what have you done?!"
"Beaten you," said Roldy, rolling over in a net. "You're finished, you're done for, and all without magic!"
"Yay!" cried the crowd. They relaxed. Lady Goldiewart's days as an evil huntress were over.
"Not so fast," she simpered, lifting her wand. It was big, made of crow's feather and shiny.
"I'll turn you all into pigs like the prophecy dictates!" she cried. She waved her wand, and the crowd turned into a mass of grunting, oinking, snorting pigs.
All still wearing robes and behaving like animals. They barfed.
"Just how I like it," said Lady Goldiewart. "Hmph." She stowed her wand away, and turned on one heel. Behind her, the manager looked shocked. She forced him into a pig's shape too, with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand.
As a pig, Roldy turned to Hermi and bit her wand. He still had his mind. He set it to countercurse, and turned all four of them back into human form. Won-Won was still foraging in his robes.
"What?" he said. "I have chocolate." He sat up.
Hermi grabbed her wand and caressed it. "How did you do that?" she asked.
"I don't know," confessed Roldy. "I just knew I had to."
Gilly kissed him. They held hands, and he helped her up. She caught sight of the blonde wig, and he was flung backwards into a net again by her forcefield.
"Steady on," said Won-Won.
"Which way did she go?" asked Hermi, wand battle-ready.
Roldy picked himself up and the net dissolved. Behind the counter, someone oinked. They looked over the wreckage, and saw a pig in department store coloured robes.
"That way!" cried Won-Won, pointing. They jumped over the counter and ran into the back area, through a beaded curtain.
Lady Goldiewart sans wig was waiting. She was surrounded by department store pigs. She flung back her head and laughed. She still had the pink lipstick lightning mark on her forehead.
She drew her wand and pointed it at Roldy's bare naked chest.
"You won't catch me," she said. "The prophecy's awake, and I need to change the whole school into pigs!"
"College," snapped Gilly. "We're sixth formers."
"All the aged-up to deal with you now," sang Won-Won. "What?" he said to the others. "I thought we were all going to have sex. We're all over sixteen."
Lady Goldiewart stared. "If you must know, I don't want to do it. It was that dreadful Professor Bumbles that predicted it when he first started being Head, and didn't want me to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts because he's homophobic."
Hermi gasped. "We thought you and he were together and broke up!"
Lady Goldiewart looked shocked. "No, sweetie, he's a white racist, cantankerous, deranged old fellow from a former century who believes in corporal punishment, segregation, and bullshit like that. If he were ever gay, he's never said it out loud, written it, or even hummed it."
Roldy thought Lady Goldiewart was off her rocker at 'hummed it', but said, "He can't be that bad, they wouldn't let him teach!" at the same time that Won-Won asked:
"How do you hum it?"
Lady Goldiewart hummed 'I'm gay' and said, "We used to do that in class when he taught Transfiguration. He sent us to detention, so he knows what it means."
Hermi said, "That must have been terrible."
Lady Goldiewart nodded. "It was. I want him to quit!"
"So do I!" said Roldy. "My mum's a lawyer; she'll help, if someone can take care of the twins. She's a bit busy balancing family and work these days," he mumbled.
Gilly said, "We'll do it. I've got older brothers who all looked after me. We know what to do."
Lady Goldiewart finally relaxed her wand. She twirled it between her long painted fingernails.
Hermi still held hers. "Turn these people back from pigs into... people!" she ordered.
"OK, sweetie. If you say so." Goldiewart launched her wand into the air, and all the oinking stopped. People stood up tentatively.
"Now, look here..." began the manager.
"I quit," said Lady Goldiewart. "I have a new job now. You can take your sticker and shove it where the sun doesn't shine." She thrust her job label into his face.
She turned on her heel, and marched out with the gang.
And she did wear a fox tail, noticed Roldy, following her.
"Now, now, see here! This is preposterous!" roared Bumbles. His beard fluffed up and floated around in all directions in irate anger.
"You racist old coot, you're done for!" raged Lady Goldiewart. Hermi was standing with her wand at the ready in case a fight broke out.
Roldy didn't have his mum with him, but this was a few days later after he returned to Scotland from an important job meeting in London. They'd contacted the papers and wrote down Lady Goldiewart's side of the story.
"Get out of my school!" he said.
"Get out of my life," simpered Lady Goldiewart. She slapped him.
Bumbles' beady eyes twitched. "HOW VERY DARE YOU!" he roared. He punched back, right in the jaw. She didn't budge.
"You can't hit a lady," said Won-Won, sticking up.
Gilly activated her forcefield around Lady Goldiewart. Bumbles struck it next with a curse that rebounded off and hit a statue. It was of a prancing bear, and it exploded.
His head turned. "That was three centuries old and it was priceless," he wept. He dragged a handkerchief across his tired eyes. "Who are you people?"
Roldy's jaw dropped open at misuse of people. "We're students, sir," he said, through gritted teeth.
"Learners, in fact," said Gilly. "We live here now."
"So you have to abide by my rules," he said cheerfully. He pointed a finger up. "Ah, I require an assistant."
A door opened, and a burly assistant walked in. "What's happening, sir?" he asked.
"See these people out!" he snapped. "They're expelled and don't belong here at our traditional school."
Hermi gasped. "It cost so much to come here," she said.
"I won the scholarship," agreed Gilly. "You can't do this."
"I can and I must," said Bumbles, looking more cheerful by the minute. "And to think I thought you were a threat."
"I am," said Lady Goldiewart appearing in a haze of smoke. She caught him with a spell on his upturned finger. It ricocheted off, however.
"I'm protected like you," he said, beaming. "I can't turn into a pig."
"I wasn't aiming pigs," she said. A pimple grew on the end of his nose. "Take that, you warty old bugger."
Hermi gasped. Prize pig pimples were growing all over his head and scalp as his hair fell out. He held gnarly old hands up to his face, shaking.
"What have you done to me?"
"What you did to me!" roared Goldiewart. "I am covered, you homophobic, transphobic, old nutter!"
"I do what Christ commands me to do."
Roldy gasped. "Don't bring Him into this!" he shouted. "What has He ever done to you, except good?"
"Not in my time, and not in my school. What I say, goes!" He slammed his pimply hand down on his desk. A statue whirled around and fell over and shattered. His head turned again.
Goldiewart was aiming at the statues, portraits and knick-knacks. They weren't scientific at all, just full of cogs and springs. A particularly mighty dragon roared flame before it imploded.
Bumbles held a hand to his mouth. "That was fifteenth century!" he claimed. "It was over two million pounds. A real treasure."
Won-Won rushed to open a trophy case and tripped over his own feet and hit a plinth. The statue there toppled onto his head. Hermi bandaged him up with spells. Gilly rushed to the trophy cabinet and opened it instead.
Goldiewart aimed long and low, and hit every one to implode. The cabinet exploded in a mess of wood and steel. Droplets of liquid metal rained down on the carpet.
Bumbles said, "You won't harm me, I can repair everything. I am a genius!" To prove it he aimed at the dragon statue and tried to repair it. Veins stood out on his cheeks with effort.
Suddenly, he slumped forward and breathed his last. Roldy crept forward. Goldiewart hadn't noticed, and was destroying everything of worth in the office.
He felt for a pulse. There was none. "I think he's had a heart attack," he muttered.
Won-Won said, "We should try to resuscitate him. Give him the kiss of life, I mean." He looked at Gilly.
She said, "I'm not doing it. He's too old. He's over 150."
Hermi said, "He was a monster. I'm not doing it either."
Roldy said, "We need to take him to trial. He might come back as a ghost otherwise, and he'll be insufferable as Head." He pointed to the spectre starting to form in mid-air.
Won-Won leapt the desk and hauled Bumbles onto his back on the floor.
"Gilly, hold his nose or something," he said. "I'm not doing it."
"Fine!" yelled Goldiewart. "I'll do it." She hit Bumbles in the chest with faint gold light. The ghost faded, and Bumbles began to breathe again. His eyelids flickered. Veins were still popping out on his pimply cheeks.
Hermi got out her phone, switched on the precious battery power and called for an air ambulance. "Where are we?" she asked.
"Scotland," said everyone.
"No, where are we? I can't say near Pimpletown, it doesn't exist on the map."
"Near a loch," volunteered Roldy. He pushed Bumbles on the floor into the recovery position with his foot.
Gilly said, "You really didn't mean all that religious Christ stuff, did you?"
Roldy looked shifty. "Maybe. Mum brought us up that way. Got a problem with it?"
She shrank. "Not really. It's just a bit old-fashioned."
"Mum went to Prize Pig Pimple College when she was younger. She was segregated into Dark Elf House and had an owl as a pet."
"We should have pet tigers not cats," added Won-Won.
"I think they catch rodents in the kitchens," said Hermi slowly. "Puck - sorry, Pixie - House doesn't have pet foxes, do they?"
"No. But Dwarf House have rabbits outside. Why are we talking about this?"
"Do you want 'Does he look better?' instead then?"
Bumbles coughed. It was wet and filled his beard with blood. Goldiewart smiled.
"He'll be a long time in hospital after this," she simpered. "I hope he doesn't lose the pimples. They suit him. Hmph."
THE END