Harry Potter and the Elusive Subtitle
An Isadorra Lampoon
To my dear friend, Andrea. Happy birthday.
His note was too strange to ignore.
The potions—er, elixir professor? Requesting help from her? Normally the professors at Hoghairs School of Otherworldly Beings were too knowledgeable to need assistance from someone like the school's lighthouse keeper. Besides, she was busy. She had work to do keeping the lighthouse.
It was late morning when she walked through the unnecessarily dark hallways to meet the professor outside. Why hasn't this school grasped the concept of electricity yet? All these torches and candles are a real fire hazard. At least put in a few more windows, she thought. No wonder this was the birthplace of Wallywort, the most evil man of all time: he didn't get enough Vitamin D.
Her eyes locked on the trio walking toward her. In the lead was Perry Blotter! The "special one." He was supposed to bring balance to the force or bring peace to his people after journeying to Mordor to destroy a ring. Or something.
Behind him were Don Beesley and Jamiroquai Grainger. Don seemed okay enough, despite his raging gingerness, and Jamiroquai was so much more glamorous than how you would have pictured her from a book.
"Good morning, Mr. Blotter. Ginger. Jamiroquai," she said, nodding at each of the children. Blotter responded with a weak smile. Surely he was like the others – not respecting her because of her career. Not many understood the fine art of lighthouse keeping. Without her, they would never have been introduced to electricity. It was the only object in sight running on power. The Otherworldly Beings went to school on an island in an undisclosed location surrounded by water but somehow accessible via the Hoghairs Express. How convenient.
"Good morning, Ms. Hugeboobs," Don said dreamily, his ginger eyebrows drooping as he stared at her ample chest.
"What are you three up to today?" she asked politely.
"Wallywort's trying to kill me again."
"Perry! Don't say his name!" Jamiroquai hissed, her hand gripping a full cart of books behind her.
"It's just a name, Jamiroquai. What's he gonna do? Make some cloaked freaks appear whenever I say his name? I mean, really. There are scarier things. Like giant snakes. And being naked onstage in a Broadway show."
"Right. Well. I'm sure you'll figure everything out at the last minute, like you usually do," she said quickly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting." Nodding again at the trio, she turned on her heels and walked toward the school's exit.
On her way out, she passed a group of Huff 'n' Puffs. Damn smokers, she thought, brushing the tainted air away from her face. They could sure take a lesson from those Givin'mores. They were a very generous group.
She spotted the professor several feet away at a picnic table, his head buried in a notebook. He looked up to meet her eyes when she approached him.
"Ms. Hugeboobs. I'm glad you were able to meet me this morning." As he stood, he wobbled, his abnormally large nose disturbing his center of gravity.
"Mr. Superspy," she responded. "Please call me Mulva. And please sit," she requested as she, herself, sat across from him.
"And please call me Sleeverus."
"Why did you want to meet, Sleeverus?"
"Do you read, Mulva?"
"Yes. I learned how to in my first year of school."
"No, I mean, do you read for fun?
"Oh. Well, of course. I often read by lighthouse light. Nearly every night. I especially love reading stories on . It's on the Internet – y'know, a sort of global network of computers?"
"Yeah, like that would ever be useful," Sleeverus scoffed. His face turned more serious as he continued. "I'm more interested in fiction. Have you read the Harry Potter series? Specifically, 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire'?" he asked, a drop of grease falling onto the table from his black, lengthy hair.
"No. I don't care for hair or pottery."
"No – that's not – they're not about—" Sleeverus paused to sigh but quickly continued. "An unknown person – some mysterious assailant – slithered into my living quarters last evening and pillaged through my belongings to turn my possessions into their own, personal treasure."
"You mean someone stole from you?"
"Indeed."
"Well, why the hell didn't you just say that?"
"That's not the point, Mulva. Whoever it was stole my book! I was in the middle of 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire,' and now I won't know how it ends! The unknown is haunting me. Although I can tell you one thing: I see great things in the future from that Cedric Diggory."
"I wish I could help you, but I'm not very familiar with those books."
"How can you not know them? They're quite possibly the most popular book series of all time." Sleeverus was rigid in his seat, the outdoor heat making him uncomfortable. The sun should respect my love of black clothing.
"I've heard of some characters. Like Voldemort and Dumbledorff."
"What about Snape? I can't figure out if he's good or evil. Have you heard of him?"
"The gay one?" she asked.
"No, no. You're thinking of Dumbledore."
"No, I'm pretty sure that's Snape," she said confidently. "Long hair, brooding, wears black to look slim, lots of buttons, never with a woman – definitely a virgin."
"I beg your pardon! Severus is a deliciously heterosexual character. He's punctual. He has superb posture. Great diction. And I'm quite positive Snape knew how to work his wand with the ladies."
"Sleeverus! This story is not rated 'M'!"
"Don't you understand! I must find out how the story ends! Not just this book, but the whole series! I can't continue until I know the significance of the Goblet of Fire. It must be in the subtitle for a reason . . ."
"Why don't you just borrow it from the library?"
"The what?" he asked, his nose piercing forward through the space between them as if he hadn't heard her correctly.
"The library," she repeated. "You can borrow books there for free. It's nice, but I prefer using the Internet and reading great stories online at . But honestly, you've never heard of a library?"
"I'm the elixir professor. I know everything. Why would I ever need a library?"
"Follow me, Sleeverus. I'll show you the way."
The two stood up simultaneously from the table, Sleeverus's long nose bumping into Mulva's protruding bosoms.
"Forgive me," Sleeverus said abruptly, his eyes darting in another direction. Mulva blushed, her eyes flickering to his black cape. He must know my fondness for superheroes. And gladiators. How sweet.
"Perhaps after our stop at the library, you'd like to go to Frogsmeade? I know a great tavern we could stop at for a drink. And they serve you French bread with Beerbutter."
"That sounds wonderful, Sleeverus." She smiled up at him as they walked side-by-side toward the building.