Disclaimer: See disclaimers A, B, and C on the title page of this book.
Summary: A fairy tales book for little wizards and witches. Approved as a pre-school reading by the Ministry of Magic of Great Britain. Revised Edition. Editor D. Umbridge
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*~* THE BREMEN TOWN MAGICIANS *~*
Once upon a time, my sweet children, there was a wizard who had a carriage and a Thestral to go with it. But now the Thestral became too old for flying and could perform his duties no more.
[Which was rather irresponsible from its part. A good household creature must not outlive its own usefulness. D.U.]
To his credit, the Thestral still had some sense of duty left. And so one day he left and set out for the nearest Muggle settlement of Bremen, where he thought he could become the town's best scarecrow.
[It is fortunate he couldn't fly anymore. Otherwise some of the smartest Muggles would've gotten suspicious from the sight of a flying scarecrow. D.U.]
After traveling some distance he came across a fully dressed House-Elf sitting atop of a heavy looking trunk.
"What are you doing here?" asked the Thestral.
"Me bad, bad, bad Elf. Me very, very, very bad Elf, good sir Thestral, sir. Me squib Elf. Me can do not magic. Only can do cooling charms. Can not make hot tea for my master. But master so kind, no blames his useless Elf at all. He even gave his unworthy Elf all his best old socks. Me very rich, rich, rich now! Good sir Thestral, sir wants my best purple socks, please, sir?"
"Thank you, and stop banging your head on the trunk. You'll damage the lid; it's only iron after all. Let's go to Bremen with me instead. I'll be the town's best scarecrow and will help you guarding your precious socks."
"And me be town's best wizard!!! Me can do cooling charms!!!"
[As they say, among Muggles even a squib is a Founder. D.U.]
And so they continued on their way. Soon after they met a bespectacled ginger Kneazle who was reading a large book, holding it upside down.
"Now, what is such a nice, clever Kneazle like you doing here, alone on the road?" asked the Thestral, surprised.
"I was thrown out of my mistress' house because of my sheer stupidity," guiltily replied the Kneazle. "I was foolish enough to let humans know that I can speak their language. When my mistress learned about it she was so disappointed with me that ordered me to leave immediately."
[A very wise decision, I dare say. A pet that can understand and speak a human language is not to be entrusted with access to its master's private life. D.U.]
"Why don't you come along with us to Bremen? I'll be the town's best scarecrow and the House-Elf here going to be the town's best wizard."
"And I'll be the town's greatest wise cat then and will open a school for orphaned mice and rats!!!"
And so they continued on their way. Then they passed an abandoned owlery where a Snowy Owl was perched on the roof and hooting with all her might.
"Your hooting gives me the chills", said the Thestral. "Why are you screaming like this?"
"Because I'm lost."
"But you're a postal owl. How can you be lost?!"
"My master sent me with two letters to two different ladies of his but I mixed them up. Both ladies got very upset with him and sent me back with howlers. Then my master got very upset with me and started screaming Get lost, you stupid bird!!! Get lost!!! …Well, so I did. Oh, my poor owlless master…"
[She should be grateful he didn't send her to a more remote location. Such negligence in carrying out one's duties is unacceptable for our otherwise superb postal services. D.U.]
"Why don't you fly along with us? We're off to Bremen. I'll be the town's best scarecrow, the House-Elf here going to be the town's best wizard, and this Kneazle is simply bound to be the town's greatest wise cat. Besides, it's much more interesting to be lost in a big city rather than in the middle of nowhere."
"Well, then I'll be the town's most lost owl!!"
And so all four of them continued the journey together. By evening they came to a forest, where they decided to spend the night. But the Snowy Owl spotted a light burning in the distance. She called to her companions and told them there must be a house nearby. And they all set out toward the light. Soon they reached a Death Eaters Den brightly lit with green flame torches. The secret Dark Revel was in full swing.
The Snowy Owl flew up to the window and peered inside.
"What do you see, whitehead?" the Kneazle asked.
"What do I see?" replied the Snowy Owl. "I see a black altar covered in blood and pumpkin juice and some dark robed wizards standing around and enjoying themselves."
"Do you see any meat?" asked her the Thestral.
"Plenty of fresh meat, some even rather nicely dressed".
[Don't' worry, children, the bird was merely joking. Contrary to popular belief, so-called Death Eaters need something more casual to eat and drink than death itself or its humanoid byproducts. And so do Thestrals, by the way. At least it is true for legally registered, taxable species which had undergone the proper wizard-friendly training in full accordance with the Ministry issued guidelines. As for homegrown or illegally smuggled in the country beasts, no guarantees against their cannibalistic tendencies can be made. If you are not completely sure about the means which your parents had obtained your own "little horsy" with, all you have to do is to send a note to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures of the Ministry of Magic. They will take care of the situation. Sweet dreams, my little ones. D.U.]
"Dressed, said you, good Miss Snowy Owl, Miss? Are there any socks in there?" eagerly cried the House-Elf.
"Lots of white socks. Only, they wear them on their heads for some reason."
"How about mice?" asked the Kneazle.
"No mice. But I can smell rats."
"That would be just the place for us!!!" cried everybody in unison.
"You're right!" said the Snowy Owl. "If only we could get in!"
And the animals started discussing a plan to drive the Death Eaters away…
*~*
Some time later in the night the unsuspecting Death Eaters were rendered speechless when a rather ugly-looking ginger kneazle's head showed up in the open window frame of their not-quite-humble abode. The head sniffed scornfully at those assembled inside and hooted thrice, softly but ominously.
Then it disappeared, only to be replaced promptly by a drowsily blinking owl which suddenly opened her beak and begin to neigh in such a harrowing manner that even most seasoned Death Eaters stepped back in commotion.
They were in for an even more profound shock when a thestral's muzzle and front legs settled themselves comfortably on the windowsill; the hoofs clad in abominable purple socks, adorned with dismal lime laces and embroidered with heart-wrenching carroty flobberworms. The toothy muzzle beamed to the petrified assembly and squeaked cheerfully, "Me greetings, good sirs dark wizards, sirs!!!"
The poor Death Eaters were openly trembling in terror now. Yet they still might've come back to their senses were they be given some time to recover.
But the horrible vision of thestralian purple socks was followed by a house-elf in big round spectacles and an immaculate bow-tie around its neck.
The monstrosity smiled politely and spoke with a smooth, slightly purring voice on flawless Queen's English, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. May I be as bold as to inquire upon your precious health?"
And that was the end! Driven beyond any endurance, reduced to a terror- and panic-stricken crowd, the vicious and ruthless Death Eaters fled off, far, far away from this terrible house. Death Eaters and dark wizards they may be, but a human brain is able to grasp only so much of Truly Supernatural.
Some of them even forgot about the anti-apparition wards surrounding the place and got split while trying to apparate back home, but their fate is quite a different story.
[For the most inquisitive of my dear little readers I would advise to look for the answers into Your Humble Servant's book "Azkaban: the Beacon of Justice". D.U.]
As for the four victorious companions, they delightedly gathered up all the trophies left behind by the luckless previous owners of the house, and then sat down at the abandoned altar and started eating, drinking and celebrating in every way possible, as if there was no tomorrow…
When they finished they put out all the green-and-black flame torches and looked for a place to sleep, each according to his nature and custom.
The Thestral lay down on the skulls and bones heap in a corner, the House-Elf, safely, behind a big poison pot, the Kneazle under the torture rack, near the still warm ashes, and the Snowy Owl on the top pillar of the altar. Since they were very tired from their long journey, they soon fell asleep.
*~*
When it was past midnight and the Death Eaters saw from the safe distance (far, far beyond the anti-apparition barrier) that there was no light in the house, and everything seemed peaceful, their leader, the Hungriest Death Eater said, "We shouldn't have let ourselves be scared out of our wits… so easily."
And he ordered the Most Expendable Death Eater to return and check out the house, "Go, but don't do any magic unless absolutely necessary. They may have detecting wards and magical traps all around the place."
Thusly encouraged, the Most Expendable Death Eater boldly tip-toyed toward his dangerous mission.
When he found everything quiet, he went to the torture hearth to light a torch and mistook the Kneazle's glinting spectacles for live coals. So he held a Muggle match to them to light a fire, but the Kneazle did not appreciate the joke. He jumped into the Most Expendable Death Eater's face, hissing and scratching, and the wizard was so terribly frightened that he ran away and straight into the poison pot, fortunately (for him) empty, but unfortunately (for him, yet again) hard and resonant.
The House-Elf lying there woke up, saw the white-masked face inches from his own and immediately began to wail, "Me sock!!! Oh, me poor sock!!! Gotcha you, sir bad thief, sir!!!" And he grabbed at the white facial cloth with all his might.
The Death Eater desperately darted away, only to trip over the skulls and bones heap, where the rather displeased Thestral was busy struggling with his very own long black horse-cloth in an effort to stand up.
After a swift blind kick from Thestral's hind foot (not clad in any socks to soften the blow, mind you), the dark wizard landed right on the stone altar, unable to move for a while. Which was not such a bad thing, because the furious House-Elf was now shooting random Refrigeratus curses across the room (as you remember, that was the only charm he could produce)…
All this time the not quite awake Snowy Owl was incessantly hooting, "Rats! I smell rats!"
She too was contributing to the battle by frantically flapping her wings and hopping about – still wisely perched on her high pillar above the altar, though.
And that was where a particularly nasty Refrigeratus found her. Instantly petrified and coated in a thick skin of ice, she felt down, right on The Mostly Expended Death Eater's long-suffering head. Were he fully awake, the blow would no doubt stun him senseless; but the poor dark fellow just couldn't be stunned and overwhelmed any more than he already was.
Firmly clutching the miraculously found ice-bag to his throbbing head, he gathered what was left of his strength for the last leap toward the door, rolled over the doorsill and ran as fast as his battered legs could carry him. And behind, the inconsolable House-Elf was still wailing, "Me sock!!! He took me sock!!! Alas to me!!! Alas to me dear!!!"
Half the way back the ice-bag started melting in his hand and he threw it off. But instead of dropping on the ground, upward it flew, sporting a pair of tiny wings and (of course!) a large, strong beak which neatly pecked the small balding spot on the top of dark wizard's head. Then the indignantly hooting enchanted ice-bag was gone…
The Death Eater didn't remember well the last part of his journey back. He just collapsed at the Hungriest Death Eater's feet and for a while nobody was able to get any sense from him. When he regained the gift of articulate speech though, his tale was the one of horror beyond description.
"There's a gruesome Veela in the house! She transformed on me and scratched my face with her long claws. I narrowly escaped pushing her into burning ashes.
And then there's a Valiant Goblin Knight in enchanted armor who cowardly attacked me with a silent Suffocating Charm. And when I deflected the curse he began a horribly sounding ancient invocation, to summon this Unspeakable Mesopotamian Demon, Mehssokamihpurras…"
"Don't say his name!!!" hissed the Hungriest Death Eater, clearly mortified, while all those dark wizards who ever studied Ancient Runes promptly fainted.
"… but I knocked him over. I would've finished him for good if not for the bunch of Dementors who felt on me in this very instant. I felt their bony hands all over my body while I tried to shield my mind with the happiest memories I could remember. Only dreaming about that blissful moment when you, my Lord, first permitted me to kiss the precious hem of your sacred robe, gave me the strength necessary to break from their unholy attentions!!!"
And he bowed deeply to the Hungriest Death Eater before continuing with the tale.
"At this point, bringing back the invaluable intelligence I've gathered became my main priority. So I made my way to our Dark Altar, once revered, now barbarously clean, basely defiled with soap and water… Oh, no, no. I just can't talk about it… Umm… Well, where was I?"
"You were in the presence of your Lord, reporting him some urgent invaluable intelligence", very calmly responded the Hungriest Death Eater.
"Eh… Right. So I just leapt on the Altar to get a better look on the battlefield, when the temperature in the room suddenly dropped to the freezing-point and a huge Ice Troll attacked me with his glacial club. I barely had the time to dodge the whizzing bludgeon. Just imagine, so far we had no idea that the Light Side started employing Ice Trolls as bodyguards! Now, that my intelligence became even more invaluable, I opted for an immediate retreat; even more so because while I was fighting my way toward the exit, the Goblin Knight came back to his senses and started his incantations all over again. Only now he was summoning Alastor Moody…"
The multiple "thuds" punctuated his words as all the remaining Death Eaters (including the Hungriest One) fainted as well.
"So, I got my ass out of there as fast as I could …" somberly concluded the Most Expendable Death Eater, surveying the unresponsive bodies of his comrades, neatly prostrated at his feet.
[A fairytales' most scary personage A. Moody actually has his origins in a real once-time Auror, whose "heroic deeds" were grossly exaggerated. D.U.]
The morning after, all the four Bremen Town Magicians reported to the local magical authorities for a permission to stay in this place forever; and, eventually, the permission was granted, under the condition that they would stay clear off the Muggle town itself.
As for the Death Eaters, they were so terrified, that fled off the country altogether. And long, long since this fateful night they were still telling anybody who would listen about the horrors of the Bremen Forest, infested with dreadful White Magic.
*~* THE END *~*