46.
CHILLINGER
(Flashback. First day.)
"-joining the staff of Hogwarts this year, please give a warm welcome to our
new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, professor Ishmael Chillinger."
Everyone looked around, expecting to see Chillinger somewhere, and then the
doors of the Great Hall burst open and a man dashed inside, slamming the doors
behind him. He was a large, broad-shouldered man with a mushroom of thick brown
hair and bright blue eyes. He looked absolutely terrified. He took in everyone in
the hall and turned around to leave. "Let me OUT-" he screamed, and then the doors
opened and another man who looked exactly like him took him by the arm and dragged
him down to the front. "Dreadfully sorry," he said, "There was a bit of an accident
on the way here, and-"
"Are you all right, Professor?" Dumbledore asked, trying to remain serious.
"Oh, yes...a few bruises. I won't be haunting the infirmary. I-"
He looked back towards the door. "Are you coming?"
Number Three came into the Great Hall, and by that time, the kids were abuzz.
So were a few of the teachers. "I don't know about this," number Three said.
He joined the teachers at the table. Introductions were made: he'd met Dumbledore,
McGonagall and Snape. Hagrid looked like a cross between an extra-large Muppet and
that Muggle wrestler, Hillbilly Jim. Sprout's fingers were smudged with dirt.
Sinistra reminded him of Diana Rigg. Binns was a ghost. Vector did mental arithmatic
all through their handshake. He almost kicked Flitwick before he actually saw him.
Without asking anyone, he located Harry Potter. All he had to do was watch
Dumbledore. There Harry was, eating quietly-
(NOW)
Harry Potter. He pretended not to know that name in The Leaky Cauldron, and they
had stared at him, unwilling to believe. Tom-delightful fellow, a pity he was on
the summer break death list-had given the three of them a room; there was a sign
outside that read HARRY POTTER SLEPT HERE. The room itself was small, but
comfortable, just enough for his needs. He spent his time trying to extract
the essence of Harry Potter from the air. He could feel it, and took it in with
every breath. It was powerful, like really great whiskey.
He studied himself in the mirror; Two and Three, Superego and Id, were
resting. This was as close to his former oneness as he could possibly be.
For a moment, he thought that he might be gaining weight, which was unacceptable.
He needed to remain as fit as possible. A haggard Ishmael Chillinger would not
be charming. He wondered why they'd ever hired him; at times, the other two
could be so unmanageable.
(THEN)
Knockturn Alley was his kind of place.
Once he had the correct look, no one paid any attention to him. He purchased
the blackest robes he could find, black boots with black laces, going so far as
to dye his hair and eyebrows black and put black contact lenses in his eyes. Charles
Manson eyes. Rubeus Hagrid had the same eyes, except there was no malevolence in
them.
Dark people shuffled down Knockturn Alley; he made his way around an old crone
reading a book called SLUG BREAD AND BEHEADED THISTLES. He shouldered past a pair
of shifty-looking warlocks. "Hey," one of them said.
He turned. "Yes?"
They were identical twins, both tall, pale and flat-faced.
"New around here, aint yeh?"
"What's it to you?"
"We're havin' a sale, over at Kvelduv Brothers Clearance."
"Not a going out of business sale, I hope."
"Everything's a galleon. Today only. We've got it all, if you don't see it,
just ask. Hands of glory by the dozen, grimoires bound in the cursed flesh of
their own authors, ancient amulets, demon resurrection rites, and cappucino in the
back. Balloons for the kids."
"I'll stop by," he lied.
----
(Now)
He thought about opening the trunk.
"No," he said.
Ronan could eat one of his own legs if he were hungry.
---
(Then)
"This is your room?"
So handsome, she had said.
"It sure is," he said.
There wasn't much conversation.
---
(Now)
He couldn't remember how he'd done it.
He remembered his hands played a big part.
The fact was he'd killed a hooker-
(are you sure she was a prostitute? She never even ASKED for money)
-in the same room where Harry Potter had once stayed.
He wondered if Potter had felt it, somehow. Felt that another part of his life
had been made unclean.
(Then)
He watched Harry Potter talk to the clerk.
Harry was only alone a moment.
A woman with fiery red hair joined him.
She could only be Molly Weasley.
She presented him with a book.
Then she hugged him for a long time.
He realized that she had to die.
(Now)
DIARY ENTRY 400
My goal is to turn Harry Potter into a killer. More on that later. Dark Arts
classes are going well. My best student is Harry Potter. I expected that. He's got
quite a future ahead of him, if only he can learn to appreciate death. To paraphrase
a muggle named Gordon Gekko, who was talking about greed...death is GOOD. Death is
RIGHT.
He closed the diary.
Then he opened it again and wrote:
Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry P
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in,"
The door opened, revealing Willy.
"Ya got anything that needs throwin' away?"
"Oh...well, Willy, the thing is we don't throw things away. We just make trash
disappear."
Willy looked surprised.
"All right," he said. "That's one less job, I guess."
He slammed the door.
CHILLINGER
(Flashback. First day.)
"-joining the staff of Hogwarts this year, please give a warm welcome to our
new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, professor Ishmael Chillinger."
Everyone looked around, expecting to see Chillinger somewhere, and then the
doors of the Great Hall burst open and a man dashed inside, slamming the doors
behind him. He was a large, broad-shouldered man with a mushroom of thick brown
hair and bright blue eyes. He looked absolutely terrified. He took in everyone in
the hall and turned around to leave. "Let me OUT-" he screamed, and then the doors
opened and another man who looked exactly like him took him by the arm and dragged
him down to the front. "Dreadfully sorry," he said, "There was a bit of an accident
on the way here, and-"
"Are you all right, Professor?" Dumbledore asked, trying to remain serious.
"Oh, yes...a few bruises. I won't be haunting the infirmary. I-"
He looked back towards the door. "Are you coming?"
Number Three came into the Great Hall, and by that time, the kids were abuzz.
So were a few of the teachers. "I don't know about this," number Three said.
He joined the teachers at the table. Introductions were made: he'd met Dumbledore,
McGonagall and Snape. Hagrid looked like a cross between an extra-large Muppet and
that Muggle wrestler, Hillbilly Jim. Sprout's fingers were smudged with dirt.
Sinistra reminded him of Diana Rigg. Binns was a ghost. Vector did mental arithmatic
all through their handshake. He almost kicked Flitwick before he actually saw him.
Without asking anyone, he located Harry Potter. All he had to do was watch
Dumbledore. There Harry was, eating quietly-
(NOW)
Harry Potter. He pretended not to know that name in The Leaky Cauldron, and they
had stared at him, unwilling to believe. Tom-delightful fellow, a pity he was on
the summer break death list-had given the three of them a room; there was a sign
outside that read HARRY POTTER SLEPT HERE. The room itself was small, but
comfortable, just enough for his needs. He spent his time trying to extract
the essence of Harry Potter from the air. He could feel it, and took it in with
every breath. It was powerful, like really great whiskey.
He studied himself in the mirror; Two and Three, Superego and Id, were
resting. This was as close to his former oneness as he could possibly be.
For a moment, he thought that he might be gaining weight, which was unacceptable.
He needed to remain as fit as possible. A haggard Ishmael Chillinger would not
be charming. He wondered why they'd ever hired him; at times, the other two
could be so unmanageable.
(THEN)
Knockturn Alley was his kind of place.
Once he had the correct look, no one paid any attention to him. He purchased
the blackest robes he could find, black boots with black laces, going so far as
to dye his hair and eyebrows black and put black contact lenses in his eyes. Charles
Manson eyes. Rubeus Hagrid had the same eyes, except there was no malevolence in
them.
Dark people shuffled down Knockturn Alley; he made his way around an old crone
reading a book called SLUG BREAD AND BEHEADED THISTLES. He shouldered past a pair
of shifty-looking warlocks. "Hey," one of them said.
He turned. "Yes?"
They were identical twins, both tall, pale and flat-faced.
"New around here, aint yeh?"
"What's it to you?"
"We're havin' a sale, over at Kvelduv Brothers Clearance."
"Not a going out of business sale, I hope."
"Everything's a galleon. Today only. We've got it all, if you don't see it,
just ask. Hands of glory by the dozen, grimoires bound in the cursed flesh of
their own authors, ancient amulets, demon resurrection rites, and cappucino in the
back. Balloons for the kids."
"I'll stop by," he lied.
----
(Now)
He thought about opening the trunk.
"No," he said.
Ronan could eat one of his own legs if he were hungry.
---
(Then)
"This is your room?"
So handsome, she had said.
"It sure is," he said.
There wasn't much conversation.
---
(Now)
He couldn't remember how he'd done it.
He remembered his hands played a big part.
The fact was he'd killed a hooker-
(are you sure she was a prostitute? She never even ASKED for money)
-in the same room where Harry Potter had once stayed.
He wondered if Potter had felt it, somehow. Felt that another part of his life
had been made unclean.
(Then)
He watched Harry Potter talk to the clerk.
Harry was only alone a moment.
A woman with fiery red hair joined him.
She could only be Molly Weasley.
She presented him with a book.
Then she hugged him for a long time.
He realized that she had to die.
(Now)
DIARY ENTRY 400
My goal is to turn Harry Potter into a killer. More on that later. Dark Arts
classes are going well. My best student is Harry Potter. I expected that. He's got
quite a future ahead of him, if only he can learn to appreciate death. To paraphrase
a muggle named Gordon Gekko, who was talking about greed...death is GOOD. Death is
RIGHT.
He closed the diary.
Then he opened it again and wrote:
Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry Potter.Harry P
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in,"
The door opened, revealing Willy.
"Ya got anything that needs throwin' away?"
"Oh...well, Willy, the thing is we don't throw things away. We just make trash
disappear."
Willy looked surprised.
"All right," he said. "That's one less job, I guess."
He slammed the door.
