Chapter 2: The Addict Who Lived
The cat on the corner of the Private Part Drive was still wide-awake. It stood there, like a statue, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Private Part Drive. It lay still. No words, just waiting for sound. It didn't quiver when it heard car doors, not even when two owls swooped by and made a ruckus. Still, it sat wide eyed with eyes still fixed on the far corner of Private Part Drive. Suddenly, before the cat moved a single inch, a man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, he appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he had just been blown from a cigarette and drained onto the curb.
The cat's tail twitched and it's eyes narrowed at the sight of the man's large pipe. Nothing like this man, or his pipe, had ever been noticed on Private Part Drive...
He was fat, dumb, tall, and very very old, he almost looked 400 judging by his wrinkles. He was wearing skimpy clothes, the kind a hooker would wear, the cat guessed it was his daily wear... Surely he would change into some better clothes yet as the school year rolled around... He wore high-healed buckled boots, a purple kilt and large blue poncho, what a weird sense of style he had... His hair was in a mohawk; he had giant sunglasses on, even though it was almost 12:00 midnight... He wore wristbands, had an earring on his right ear, and he stumbled as he walked. His nose was long and disgusting. It looked at though Jackie Chan had broken it into a million pieces it was so unbearable. This man's name was Albus Dumblehore.
Albus Dumblehore had not realized he had just set foot on a street where everything from his hooker-styled clothes to his name was unwelcome. I guess he didn't give a damn, he was from Detroit. He was busy rummaging through his cloak, looking for something. Something big. Suddenly he realized he was being watched, watched by a big tubby cat, with narrow eyes, from the other side of the street. The site of the cat amused him and he laughed.
"I should have known..." he chuckled in his 400 year-old voice. He found what he was looking for in his pocket; it seemed to be a baggy of greens... Man, this man had so many pockets; he must've been loaded! The cat was suddenly excited. He held it in the air. Filled his pipe. Lit the pipe. Smoked the pipe. The nearest street lamp went out with a bang. He filled the pipe. Lit the pipe. Smoked the pipe. Another light went off, this time with a pop. 13 times he filled, lit and smoked the pipe until all the lights went out. The only light were the eyes of the cat watching him. Even Mrs. Hurly wouldn't be able to know what was going on around here... It was so damn dark.
Dumblehore put the pipe in his pocket and set off for #4. He sat down on the curb, next to the cat. He never looked at it, but then he started to talk to it. You would think he was stoned, but this wasn't the case for the magical fairy man.
"Fancy seeing you here... Professor Humplick." Said Dumblehore. He turned to smile at the little runt, but it was gone. Instead he was sitting there, smiling at a rather ugly lady, you could call her a witch. She was wearing rectangular glasses, kinda like witches did... Very strange indeed. She too was wearing a poncho, a big blue one. Her hair was messed up, she looked in a kind of pissed off mood, she always did. She looked at Dumblehore.
"How did you know it was me?!?!" she asked. He looked at her and chuckled for the third time tonight.
"My dear professor, I've never seen a cat sit so darn stiffly and quiet, now you know why I knew it all along."
"You'd be stiff if you had been sitting on a brick wall all day!!" Professor Humplick bellowed.
"ALL day!? When you could have been celebrating in Barney suits?? I must've stopped for 19 feasts, and 13 parties on my way here! By god it was good." Professor Humplick bitched a little and put on a frown.
"Oh yes... You'd think everyone would be happy... But they should be more careful!! Even the huggles have noticed something goin' up!" she complained in a raspy leprechaun voice. "It was on the news!!"
"You sound like a leprechaun!" Dumblehore chuckled again. "Ofcourse we're celebrating, we havn't celebrated for 13 years woman!!"
"I know that!!" shrieked Humplick. "But that's no reason to go shoving a wrench down our throats for a little victory!! People are being careless, out on the streets! They're not even dressed in huggle clothes, and they keep swapping rumors, enough for the huggle to hear." She beamed at Dumblehore. She was hoping he would say something. He sensed it, and just to piss her off he said nothing so she went on. "Just imagine, the day you-know-who was gone, the huggles found out about us!"
"It certainly seems you-know-who is gone... Thank god. Would you care for, some Angel Dust?"
"A what?" she bellowed.
"Angel Dust, a kind of huggle drug, drugs you up faster than Leprechaun Dust! I'm rather fond of it..." Dumblehore snickered.
"No thank youuuuu... I smoked a bowl all day, I've had enough of that stuff for one day." She said.
"As I was saying... If you-know-who IS gone, then we can surely call him by his REAL name! For 13 years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his real name, Oldelfarto." Professor Humplick flinched and had a sour taste in her face. Dumblehore, who was taking to Angel Dust pills, seemed not to notice. "Care for a fresh blue tasting one?" he asked Professor Humplick. She frowned. "I don't know why we can't say, 'Oldelfarto,' it's so confusing saying you-know-who..." She flinched again.
"Ofcourse you aren't afraid of... Oldelfarto, everyone knows he's only afraid of YOU!!" she said.
"You flatter me, witch, Oldelfarto had powers I could and can never have! He could kill us all! Oh my god... He- Never mind." Dumblehore kept a straight smile of satisfactory. Prof. Humplick frowned. Suddenly Dumblehore grinned. He snapped his fingers and a jukebox popped up. He pressed a few buttons and he started to dance...
"If you wanna come and take a ride with me... We three-wheelin in the fo' with the gold D's.. Oh why do I live this wayyyyy?" Dumblehore hollered. Professor Humplick got up and yelled: "Heyyyy!! Must be the moneyyy!!"
"You see? It IS a happy day. Let me see a smile!" Dumblehore chimed.
"Alright.. your right." Prof. Humplick agreed. "But I must ask... What about the boy's parents?" Dumblehore stopped for a moment.
"Oldelfarto... He... He killed them." Humplick stood in shock at the words. She was in more shock then when the "pencil shavings" under her dresser had gone missing one morning. "But he couldn't kill the boy. Nobody knows why." They stood still for a few minutes.
"So where is the boy staying?" she whispered.
"Here, with the Hurlies. Angrid is bringing him along right now." Said Dumblehore.
"A-Angrid? Hurlies? Dumblehore, are you out of your mind?? He can't stay here!! Not with these people!" gasped Humplick.
"It's for the best for him to stay with them... It's the only relatives he has that aren't dead. As for Angrid, I don't trust him with my life... But I only had to pay him 5 Nuts. You see? It pays to have someone to work cheap..."
Suddenly a low sound became a little louder. Then louder. Suddenly a tank dropped from midair onto the paved road. A giant poked his head out. He got out and chucked a small blanket, with a baby, onto the pavement. Dumblehore caught it just in time. "Angrid!! For christ's sake! This is a baby!!" screamed Prof. Humplick.
"Shut your face woman, I only take orders from Dumblehore!!" he bitched.
"Now now Angrid, be nice." Soothed Dumblehore. "Now then, any problems on the way here?" Dumblehore asked.
"Hope, not one, sir!" said Angrid pleased with himself.
"Good... Let the games begin." Dumblehore tucked a note in with the wrapped up baby. He had noticed a scar of a skull on his forehead... No matter, it looked cool. He walked up to #4 and set the baby down on the step. He and Angrid hopped into the large tank and sped off. Humplick snapped out into thin air and the street lights came back on.
____
The next morning Mrs. Hurly went to get the paper. She bent over and... "Holy shit!!" She called for her husband. "There's a baby! A baby!!" she yelled. Pudgy was screaming and the neighbourhood awoke. A very different morning it was for the Hurlies that morning.
Across the continents, the little baby did not know it... But wizards everywhere were chanting and boasting and refilling achoholic beverages...
"To Harry Pothead, the addict who lived!"
The cat on the corner of the Private Part Drive was still wide-awake. It stood there, like a statue, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Private Part Drive. It lay still. No words, just waiting for sound. It didn't quiver when it heard car doors, not even when two owls swooped by and made a ruckus. Still, it sat wide eyed with eyes still fixed on the far corner of Private Part Drive. Suddenly, before the cat moved a single inch, a man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, he appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he had just been blown from a cigarette and drained onto the curb.
The cat's tail twitched and it's eyes narrowed at the sight of the man's large pipe. Nothing like this man, or his pipe, had ever been noticed on Private Part Drive...
He was fat, dumb, tall, and very very old, he almost looked 400 judging by his wrinkles. He was wearing skimpy clothes, the kind a hooker would wear, the cat guessed it was his daily wear... Surely he would change into some better clothes yet as the school year rolled around... He wore high-healed buckled boots, a purple kilt and large blue poncho, what a weird sense of style he had... His hair was in a mohawk; he had giant sunglasses on, even though it was almost 12:00 midnight... He wore wristbands, had an earring on his right ear, and he stumbled as he walked. His nose was long and disgusting. It looked at though Jackie Chan had broken it into a million pieces it was so unbearable. This man's name was Albus Dumblehore.
Albus Dumblehore had not realized he had just set foot on a street where everything from his hooker-styled clothes to his name was unwelcome. I guess he didn't give a damn, he was from Detroit. He was busy rummaging through his cloak, looking for something. Something big. Suddenly he realized he was being watched, watched by a big tubby cat, with narrow eyes, from the other side of the street. The site of the cat amused him and he laughed.
"I should have known..." he chuckled in his 400 year-old voice. He found what he was looking for in his pocket; it seemed to be a baggy of greens... Man, this man had so many pockets; he must've been loaded! The cat was suddenly excited. He held it in the air. Filled his pipe. Lit the pipe. Smoked the pipe. The nearest street lamp went out with a bang. He filled the pipe. Lit the pipe. Smoked the pipe. Another light went off, this time with a pop. 13 times he filled, lit and smoked the pipe until all the lights went out. The only light were the eyes of the cat watching him. Even Mrs. Hurly wouldn't be able to know what was going on around here... It was so damn dark.
Dumblehore put the pipe in his pocket and set off for #4. He sat down on the curb, next to the cat. He never looked at it, but then he started to talk to it. You would think he was stoned, but this wasn't the case for the magical fairy man.
"Fancy seeing you here... Professor Humplick." Said Dumblehore. He turned to smile at the little runt, but it was gone. Instead he was sitting there, smiling at a rather ugly lady, you could call her a witch. She was wearing rectangular glasses, kinda like witches did... Very strange indeed. She too was wearing a poncho, a big blue one. Her hair was messed up, she looked in a kind of pissed off mood, she always did. She looked at Dumblehore.
"How did you know it was me?!?!" she asked. He looked at her and chuckled for the third time tonight.
"My dear professor, I've never seen a cat sit so darn stiffly and quiet, now you know why I knew it all along."
"You'd be stiff if you had been sitting on a brick wall all day!!" Professor Humplick bellowed.
"ALL day!? When you could have been celebrating in Barney suits?? I must've stopped for 19 feasts, and 13 parties on my way here! By god it was good." Professor Humplick bitched a little and put on a frown.
"Oh yes... You'd think everyone would be happy... But they should be more careful!! Even the huggles have noticed something goin' up!" she complained in a raspy leprechaun voice. "It was on the news!!"
"You sound like a leprechaun!" Dumblehore chuckled again. "Ofcourse we're celebrating, we havn't celebrated for 13 years woman!!"
"I know that!!" shrieked Humplick. "But that's no reason to go shoving a wrench down our throats for a little victory!! People are being careless, out on the streets! They're not even dressed in huggle clothes, and they keep swapping rumors, enough for the huggle to hear." She beamed at Dumblehore. She was hoping he would say something. He sensed it, and just to piss her off he said nothing so she went on. "Just imagine, the day you-know-who was gone, the huggles found out about us!"
"It certainly seems you-know-who is gone... Thank god. Would you care for, some Angel Dust?"
"A what?" she bellowed.
"Angel Dust, a kind of huggle drug, drugs you up faster than Leprechaun Dust! I'm rather fond of it..." Dumblehore snickered.
"No thank youuuuu... I smoked a bowl all day, I've had enough of that stuff for one day." She said.
"As I was saying... If you-know-who IS gone, then we can surely call him by his REAL name! For 13 years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his real name, Oldelfarto." Professor Humplick flinched and had a sour taste in her face. Dumblehore, who was taking to Angel Dust pills, seemed not to notice. "Care for a fresh blue tasting one?" he asked Professor Humplick. She frowned. "I don't know why we can't say, 'Oldelfarto,' it's so confusing saying you-know-who..." She flinched again.
"Ofcourse you aren't afraid of... Oldelfarto, everyone knows he's only afraid of YOU!!" she said.
"You flatter me, witch, Oldelfarto had powers I could and can never have! He could kill us all! Oh my god... He- Never mind." Dumblehore kept a straight smile of satisfactory. Prof. Humplick frowned. Suddenly Dumblehore grinned. He snapped his fingers and a jukebox popped up. He pressed a few buttons and he started to dance...
"If you wanna come and take a ride with me... We three-wheelin in the fo' with the gold D's.. Oh why do I live this wayyyyy?" Dumblehore hollered. Professor Humplick got up and yelled: "Heyyyy!! Must be the moneyyy!!"
"You see? It IS a happy day. Let me see a smile!" Dumblehore chimed.
"Alright.. your right." Prof. Humplick agreed. "But I must ask... What about the boy's parents?" Dumblehore stopped for a moment.
"Oldelfarto... He... He killed them." Humplick stood in shock at the words. She was in more shock then when the "pencil shavings" under her dresser had gone missing one morning. "But he couldn't kill the boy. Nobody knows why." They stood still for a few minutes.
"So where is the boy staying?" she whispered.
"Here, with the Hurlies. Angrid is bringing him along right now." Said Dumblehore.
"A-Angrid? Hurlies? Dumblehore, are you out of your mind?? He can't stay here!! Not with these people!" gasped Humplick.
"It's for the best for him to stay with them... It's the only relatives he has that aren't dead. As for Angrid, I don't trust him with my life... But I only had to pay him 5 Nuts. You see? It pays to have someone to work cheap..."
Suddenly a low sound became a little louder. Then louder. Suddenly a tank dropped from midair onto the paved road. A giant poked his head out. He got out and chucked a small blanket, with a baby, onto the pavement. Dumblehore caught it just in time. "Angrid!! For christ's sake! This is a baby!!" screamed Prof. Humplick.
"Shut your face woman, I only take orders from Dumblehore!!" he bitched.
"Now now Angrid, be nice." Soothed Dumblehore. "Now then, any problems on the way here?" Dumblehore asked.
"Hope, not one, sir!" said Angrid pleased with himself.
"Good... Let the games begin." Dumblehore tucked a note in with the wrapped up baby. He had noticed a scar of a skull on his forehead... No matter, it looked cool. He walked up to #4 and set the baby down on the step. He and Angrid hopped into the large tank and sped off. Humplick snapped out into thin air and the street lights came back on.
____
The next morning Mrs. Hurly went to get the paper. She bent over and... "Holy shit!!" She called for her husband. "There's a baby! A baby!!" she yelled. Pudgy was screaming and the neighbourhood awoke. A very different morning it was for the Hurlies that morning.
Across the continents, the little baby did not know it... But wizards everywhere were chanting and boasting and refilling achoholic beverages...
"To Harry Pothead, the addict who lived!"