The Great Time
Deep in the deeply shimmering depths of the astoundingly deep depths of the lake at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, something stirred. Its head was throbbing, and it was awake, and it was irritated. Creatures tend to get this way when woken from a three-hundred-year nap.
It rose up, brushing through the lakeweed, whacking grindylows violently with its long tail. It had miraculously become quite clear on where it was going. Finally, it reached the surface of the water, where it hovered for a moment, before poking its nose cautiously into the air, choking, and diving back down.
It swam along, just below the surface, until it reached the shallows. It then wiggled itself over to the dry land, and, since it was able to do this safely, percieved that this was the Great Time, and that it was good and true. "Allrighty, then," it said, in a baritone voice, "we're off!"
-----
Harry Potter tried desperately to go back to sleep, after having woken himself up with a vague nightmare which had something to do with Professor McGonagall and some cabbages. Suddenly, he felt something touching his face. He opened his eyes, but could see naught but darkness. He tentatively reached his hand up towards his face, but he was stopped by some strange slimy texture.
"Oh, God no! Not--"
"Shush!" said the thing.
But Harry could not be stopped. "No! Anything but the cabbages! Help! Fire! Murder! We're all going to die!"
Then, he stopped screaming long enough to realize that that which he had thought was cabbages had actually spoken to him.
"It is the Great Time, Harry Potty-- erm, sorry, couldn't resist," said the Thing.
"Beg pardon?"
"The Great Time," it said reverently. "The Time of Changing."
"Ehh?"
"Never mind."
"Excellent."
"Truly."
"Yes. Wait, who--" mumbled Harry. "Who, or what, are you?"
The answer came slowly. "I am... it is hard to explain. I am that which is inside of you, yet it is not known by you. Just as Hemingway had his inner chickens, you have... a special creature. It is not what you think, though; I can tell by your empty-eyed expresion that you are not one of the Enlightened. No, no. You are a mere--"
"What the hell are you talking about? You are seriously overloading my brain, and... I have too much angst to have brain overload," said Harry angstily. Then, in a trembling voice, he pleaded, "Don't confuse me."
"Ha, I was wondering when you would stop my monologue with an angsty protest."
"Who are you?" wept Harry.
"Big baby. Big baby teenaged angstbucket," said the Thing. "I shall tell you if you stop that infernal racket."
Harry reached up, and, in order to make a verbal pun, halted the progress of a burning tennis racket as it swung about. "There," he said.
"Good. Now, I am a walrus. I am your double in the walrus world."
"What??"
The room was suddenly illuminated, and Harry was able to see the massive beast before him, its long tusks the color of old papyrus, its hide glistening and marked with scars, its eyes, deep-set, like two lonely tunnels.
"You look like my Potions teacher, Professor Snape. He has tunnel-eye syndrome, too," Harry chirped. The walrus whacked him.
"Look closer," it said.
Harry obliged, staring quite pop-eyedly at the creature, until he spotted the difference.
"Ah. Oh dear. Well. That's--" said he.
"Yes," the walrus said. "I have a scar, like to yours in every way, except that mine was caused by the evil tusk-fighter Greenbuttocks, a walrus, like myself, who yearned for power and immortal life. He went after me, when I was a youngster of only sixteen years, but I managed to knock him off a cliff, and thus saved the walrus world from his evil power. However, he took the end of one of my tusks, and climbed up the cliff again, only last year, as a matter of fact..." It trailed off, looking at Harry expectantly.
"Oh, well, my story's the same as yours, except the evil dude is called Voldemort."
"What? You haven't any tusks!"
"Yea, I suppose. Well, except for the name, and the tusks, and a few other things, my story's the same. I don't want to talk about it. It would cause me too much angst, and I might start yelling at you," said Harry.
"Hum, well, anyhow, it's time for the Great Time, so I must gore you, and we'd change places-- you'll be the savior of walruses, and I'd be the savior of magic folk. And, of course, we'll change species, too."
"Nuh-uh, I'm not going to be a bloody walrus," said Harry cheerily.
The walrus leaned forward and speared him with one of its tusks.
"Ow!" said the walrus. "Wait, hey, this is the walrus, not me!" It looked over at Harry, and realized that they had indeed changed places. Harry's- body-that-was-really-the-original-walrus grinned. "Bloody hell," said the walrus's-body-that-was-really-the-original-Harry. Then, "Do you have my name, or do I?"
"I have your name," said the new Harry Potter, "and I'm going to make sure you eat plenty and plenties of fish and nice seaweed."
"Eh, then what's my name?"
"I was called Blubbergut, and, in my image, so too shall you be called."
"Eh, allrighty," said the new Blubbergut. "This name makes me feel like such a. such a hero."
"I knew it would," said the new Harry, smiling radiantly.
"That was sarcasm."
"Pity. Now, get out, you hulking great walrus, out of my new dormitory!" The new Harry picked up the old Harry's wand, looked at it wonderingly, and then confidently started whacking the old Harry (a.k.a. the new Blubbergut) with it.
"That's not how it's used," muttered the new Blubbergut as it lumbered out the door.
The new Harry smiled, and watched out the window as the new Blubbergut attempted to get in the water, despite what it clearly thought was a freezing water temperature. "Ye big sissy!" he yelled out the window.
Then, he lay down, yawned, and fell back to sleep, once again.
Deep in the deeply shimmering depths of the astoundingly deep depths of the lake at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, something stirred. Its head was throbbing, and it was awake, and it was irritated. Creatures tend to get this way when woken from a three-hundred-year nap.
It rose up, brushing through the lakeweed, whacking grindylows violently with its long tail. It had miraculously become quite clear on where it was going. Finally, it reached the surface of the water, where it hovered for a moment, before poking its nose cautiously into the air, choking, and diving back down.
It swam along, just below the surface, until it reached the shallows. It then wiggled itself over to the dry land, and, since it was able to do this safely, percieved that this was the Great Time, and that it was good and true. "Allrighty, then," it said, in a baritone voice, "we're off!"
-----
Harry Potter tried desperately to go back to sleep, after having woken himself up with a vague nightmare which had something to do with Professor McGonagall and some cabbages. Suddenly, he felt something touching his face. He opened his eyes, but could see naught but darkness. He tentatively reached his hand up towards his face, but he was stopped by some strange slimy texture.
"Oh, God no! Not--"
"Shush!" said the thing.
But Harry could not be stopped. "No! Anything but the cabbages! Help! Fire! Murder! We're all going to die!"
Then, he stopped screaming long enough to realize that that which he had thought was cabbages had actually spoken to him.
"It is the Great Time, Harry Potty-- erm, sorry, couldn't resist," said the Thing.
"Beg pardon?"
"The Great Time," it said reverently. "The Time of Changing."
"Ehh?"
"Never mind."
"Excellent."
"Truly."
"Yes. Wait, who--" mumbled Harry. "Who, or what, are you?"
The answer came slowly. "I am... it is hard to explain. I am that which is inside of you, yet it is not known by you. Just as Hemingway had his inner chickens, you have... a special creature. It is not what you think, though; I can tell by your empty-eyed expresion that you are not one of the Enlightened. No, no. You are a mere--"
"What the hell are you talking about? You are seriously overloading my brain, and... I have too much angst to have brain overload," said Harry angstily. Then, in a trembling voice, he pleaded, "Don't confuse me."
"Ha, I was wondering when you would stop my monologue with an angsty protest."
"Who are you?" wept Harry.
"Big baby. Big baby teenaged angstbucket," said the Thing. "I shall tell you if you stop that infernal racket."
Harry reached up, and, in order to make a verbal pun, halted the progress of a burning tennis racket as it swung about. "There," he said.
"Good. Now, I am a walrus. I am your double in the walrus world."
"What??"
The room was suddenly illuminated, and Harry was able to see the massive beast before him, its long tusks the color of old papyrus, its hide glistening and marked with scars, its eyes, deep-set, like two lonely tunnels.
"You look like my Potions teacher, Professor Snape. He has tunnel-eye syndrome, too," Harry chirped. The walrus whacked him.
"Look closer," it said.
Harry obliged, staring quite pop-eyedly at the creature, until he spotted the difference.
"Ah. Oh dear. Well. That's--" said he.
"Yes," the walrus said. "I have a scar, like to yours in every way, except that mine was caused by the evil tusk-fighter Greenbuttocks, a walrus, like myself, who yearned for power and immortal life. He went after me, when I was a youngster of only sixteen years, but I managed to knock him off a cliff, and thus saved the walrus world from his evil power. However, he took the end of one of my tusks, and climbed up the cliff again, only last year, as a matter of fact..." It trailed off, looking at Harry expectantly.
"Oh, well, my story's the same as yours, except the evil dude is called Voldemort."
"What? You haven't any tusks!"
"Yea, I suppose. Well, except for the name, and the tusks, and a few other things, my story's the same. I don't want to talk about it. It would cause me too much angst, and I might start yelling at you," said Harry.
"Hum, well, anyhow, it's time for the Great Time, so I must gore you, and we'd change places-- you'll be the savior of walruses, and I'd be the savior of magic folk. And, of course, we'll change species, too."
"Nuh-uh, I'm not going to be a bloody walrus," said Harry cheerily.
The walrus leaned forward and speared him with one of its tusks.
"Ow!" said the walrus. "Wait, hey, this is the walrus, not me!" It looked over at Harry, and realized that they had indeed changed places. Harry's- body-that-was-really-the-original-walrus grinned. "Bloody hell," said the walrus's-body-that-was-really-the-original-Harry. Then, "Do you have my name, or do I?"
"I have your name," said the new Harry Potter, "and I'm going to make sure you eat plenty and plenties of fish and nice seaweed."
"Eh, then what's my name?"
"I was called Blubbergut, and, in my image, so too shall you be called."
"Eh, allrighty," said the new Blubbergut. "This name makes me feel like such a. such a hero."
"I knew it would," said the new Harry, smiling radiantly.
"That was sarcasm."
"Pity. Now, get out, you hulking great walrus, out of my new dormitory!" The new Harry picked up the old Harry's wand, looked at it wonderingly, and then confidently started whacking the old Harry (a.k.a. the new Blubbergut) with it.
"That's not how it's used," muttered the new Blubbergut as it lumbered out the door.
The new Harry smiled, and watched out the window as the new Blubbergut attempted to get in the water, despite what it clearly thought was a freezing water temperature. "Ye big sissy!" he yelled out the window.
Then, he lay down, yawned, and fell back to sleep, once again.