Hello Harold Plodder fans! Here is the latest installment in my wonderful story! Watch how the Durskeys' parallel universe comes crashing down as a stranger breaks into the little shack, and tells Harold some long overdue information. Disclaimers: I do not own Uncle Herman's pretzel-rifle, Harold's birthday cake, Hagger's overcoat, the final stalker letter, Hagger's SpongeBob umbrella, or Hagger's ability (or unability) to curse Spudley. Have fun!
Chapter 4
: The Giant ManBOOM. They knocked again, and Spudley awoke with a start.
"Whoa…where's the bomb?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
The sheet dividing the two rooms was pushed aside, and Uncle Herman raced into the room, holding a rifle. Harold now knew what was in the thin package he had gotten earlier.
"Who is it?" he cried, pointing the rifle at the door. "Show yourself or get shot, it's your choice!"
Whoever was banging on the door paused. Then…
CRASH.
The door splintered into a million pieces, clattering onto the stone floor of the shack. In the doorway stood a huge man with loads of tangled black hair. Everything about him looked quite frightening except for his eyes, which twinkled like tiny stars.
The giant stared at the wreckage, and then walked towards a boulder near the edge of the island. With surprising strength, he pushed it across the ground to the shack, entered the room, and yanked it into the doorway, somewhat muffling the sound of the water crashing against the shore.
"There, that's better," he growled. "Guess I don't know me own strength." He looked at them all, and said, "Couldn't make some coffee, could yeh? Its been a rough journey…."
He thumped over to the dusty sofa where Spudley had been sleeping.
"Move over, yeh great watermelon," he growled.
Spudley yelped and ran to try and hide behind his mother, failing dismally. Aunt Pansy was crouching behind Uncle Herman, clutching his shoulders.
"Hey, there yeh are, Harold! Didn't see yeh there!" he cried, his face breaking into a kind smile. "Last time I saw you, I could hold yeh in one hand! Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh got yer mother's eyes."
Uncle Herman made a weird noise in his throat.
"Get out!" he snarled. "You are breaking and entering!"
"Aw, shuddit Durskey, yeh fat blob o' jelly." said the giant; he reached over the back of the couch, jerked the rifle out of Uncle Herman's trembling hands, and bent it into what looked like a pretzel.
"Lookie here!" he said triumphantly. "I made a pretzel! Looks nice, don't it?"
Uncle Herman glared at him fiercely, but he was shaking. Looking hurt, the giant put the pretzel-shaped rifle in one of his many pockets.
"Anyway, Harold," said the giant, turning his back on the Durskeys, "I wanted to wish yeh a happy birthday. Got summat fer yeh here…it may be a bit squashed, 'cause I think I sat on it on the way here, but I'm sure it'll taste alright."
He reached into a different pocket and pulled out a small box, handing it to Harold. Harold opened it, his fingers tingling, to see a sticky chocolate cake with the words Happy Birthday Harold written in green icing. Looking up into the giant's face, he opened his mouth to say thank you, but instead, said, "Who are you?"
The giant smiled.
"O' course, I forgot to introduce meself. Name's Rupert Hagger, the Keeper o' Keys and Grounds at Pigzits."
He grabbed Harold's hand and shook it enthusiastically, which made Harold's whole arm go up and down.
"So, yeh gonna make any coffee? If yeh got anything stronger, I could go fer that, instead, like, I dunno, a beer?"
His eyes fell on the empty fireplace. Snorting, he bent down in front of it, and when he straightened back up, there was a roaring fire. It warmed the room instantly.
The giant sat back on the couch and began emptying his pockets; out came a pot, several small teacups, a package of sausages, forks, knives, and a bag of Dunkin' Donuts coffee. Soon the shack was filled with the smells of breakfast.
Spudley groaned with what Harold knew was hunger; they hadn't had much to eat the night before.
"Don't touch those sausages, Spudley," said Uncle Herman sharply. "The giant may have poisoned them!"
"Hey, that's not very nice, now," said the giant, looking hurt again, "but don't you worry, Durskey, I wasn't planning on givin' him anything. He don't need to be fattened up no more."
Harold snorted with laughter. Eyes twinkling, the giant handed him the plate of sausages, and Harold dug in. The giant took a long drink from his coffee mug, licking his lips.
"I'm sorry," mumbled Harold around the sausage, spraying some on the floor, "but I still have no idea who you are."
"That's okay," he said. "Just call me Hagger, everyone does, don't like the name Rupert much. It's ridiculous. An' like I said before, I'm Keeper o' Keys at Pigzits…o' course, yeh know all about Pigzits…"
"Uh…no, I've never seen a pig's zit in my life," said Harold, confused.
Hagger looked astonished.
"Sorry," said Harold quickly, "but I try not to, you know…it's kind of gross…"
"No, no, no, yeh got it all wrong!" barked Hagger, whipping his head around to glare at the Durskeys. "It's them that should be sorry! I knew yeh hadn't been getting yer letters, but I had no idea yeh didn't know 'bout Pigzits! Where do yeh think yer parents learned it all?"
"All what?" asked Harold, "Did they study pigs or something?"
"ALL WHAT?" Hagger roared. "STUDY PIGS? Now wait just one second!"
He jumped to his feet, seemed to fill the whole shack in his anger.
"So yer telling me…" he growled at the Durskeys, "that this boy…Harold Plodder…knows nuthin'…about ANYTHING?"
Harold was offended.
"Excuse me?" he cried, "I do too know about stuff! I can do math, look, seven times eight equals fifty-six…"
"No, no, no! Not that stuff!" yelled Hagger, tearing his beard out in frustration. "I mean, the stuff about yer world. My world. Yer parents' world. Not theirs!" He pointed at the Durskeys.
"What world?" asked Harold, getting annoyed.
Hagger was beside himself.
"DURSKEY! WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE?" he roared.
Uncle Herman face was as red as a tomato. He looked at the floor, muttering something that sounded like "sniddlewibble". Hagger stared at Harold, his eyes wild.
"Don't yeh even know 'bout yer mom? Yer dad? They're famous. Yer famous.
"Please don't tell me they were pig scientists," Harold groaned, putting his face in his hands.
"THEY WERE NOT PIG SCIENTISTS!" roared Hagger, stamping his foot so hard the entire shack shook. "Yer telling me…you don't know…who yeh are?"
"NO!" cried Uncle Herman. "I forbid you to tell him!"
Hagger gave the Durskeys a look of death, trembling with suppressed rage.
"You never told him anything? Never told him what Dunderbore wrote in that letter? I was there, for God's sakes! I saw him leave it! And yeh've kept it from him for all these years?"
"Kept what?" asked Harold eagerly. "What were they hiding?"
"STOP! STOP RIGHT NOW!" screamed Uncle Herman, his face white. Aunt Pansy wailed in fear.
"SHUDDIT!" howled Hagger. "WHY DON'T YEH DO EVERYONE SOME GOOD AND JUMP IN A LAKE!" He turned his back to them. "Harold…yer a wizard."
"Now he's done it," muttered Uncle Herman.
"I'm a what?" gasped Harold.
"A wizard, and a bouncing good one, too. Just wait 'till yer trained up! And it's about time," he growled, glaring at the Durskeys, "that yeh read yer letter."
He held out a huge, beefy hand. Harold reached out, his whole body shaking, and took the letter that rested in it, addressed to Mr. H. Plodder, The Floor, Shack-On-The-Boulder, The Lake. He pulled out the letter and read:
Pigzits Academy of Magical Education
Headmaster: Albert Dunderbore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Plodder,
We are pleased to notify you that you have been accepted at Pigzits Academy of Magical Education. Enclosed is a list of all the necessary books, attire, and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Sincerely,
Minnie McGummable
Deputy Headmistress
Harold had so many questions in his mind he didn't know what to ask first. Finally he stammered, "What does 'we await your owl' mean?"
"Holy crap, good thing yeh said that," said Hagger, clapping his hand to his forehead. He reached into yet another pocket in his coat and pulled out a living, breathing, slightly ruffled owl, a long quill, and a small roll of parchment. Biting his tongue, he scribbled a note that Harold could read upside down:
Dear Professor Dunderbore,
Harold read his letter.
Buying his things tomorrow with me.
Weather sucks. Hope it's better where you are.
Hagger
He rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, who clamped it in his beak, and threw it out the window as though it were a football.
"Now, where was I?" he said, plopping back down on the couch, but at that moment, Uncle Herman overcame his stage fright and stomped into the firelight.
"He's not going," he growled.
Hagger snorted.
"Oh, really? And a fat Shmuggle like you is gonna stop him? Now, this I'd like to see!"
"What's a Shmuggle?" asked Harold.
"A Shmuggle is a person who has no magical talent whatsoever," Hagger explained. "Fer example, yer aunt and uncle. They're the biggest, meanest, and stupidest Shmuggles I've ever met in me entire life."
"Excuse me?" yelped Uncle Herman.
"Yeh heard me, unless yer ears are full o' wax," said Hagger.
"He is not going to that school!" cried Uncle Herman. "We swore that we'd squash that magic out of him when we took him in! We swore it!"
"Well, I'm glad yeh failed," said Hagger.
"You knew?" cried Harold. "You knew I was a wizard, and you never said a thing?"
"Knew?" shrieked Aunt Pansy, speaking for the first time. "Of course we knew! There was no way you wouldn't be one of those wackos! My crazy sister got a letter just like that, and she disappeared to that nuthouse, coming home every summer with her pockets full of frog eyes, turning forks into mice! I was the only one who saw her for what she was…a weirdo! But for my parents, oh no, it was Millie this and Millie that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"
Her chest heaved and her eyes were wild. Taking a deep breath, she went ranting on again.
"Then she met that Plodder guy at that school and they got married and had a happily ever after, and then they had you, and I knew you would turn out to be a crackpot just like them, and finally they got themselves blown up and we were stuck with you for the next ten years!"
"Blown up?" said Harold, once he found his voice. "I thought they died in a plane crash!"
"PLANE CRASH!" roared Hagger, leaping up so suddenly that the Durskeys yelped and ran back to the corner, "How in the world could a plane crash kill Millie and Jimmy Plodder? It's an insult to their memory! Harold Plodder doesn't even know about his own life when every kid in our world knows his name!"
"Oh my God," whispered Harold. "I'm being stalked by magical strangers!"
"That's right," said Hagger, beaming.
"But why? What happened?"
Hagger's face was suddenly full of unease.
"I had no idea how much yeh didn't know," he said quietly. "Dunderbore told me I might have trouble getting yeh out of here, but he never mentioned…" He gulped. "I don't know if I'm the right person to be telling yeh this, Harold, but yeh've can't go off to Pigzits not knowing."
Throwing another glare at the Durskeys, he sat down on the couch and motioned for Harold to do the same. Then he took a deep breath and said, "I guess I should start with…a person called…gosh, I can't believe yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows…"
"Who is it?" asked Harold.
"Well…I try not to say the name much…cause if I do…" he broke off, covering his mouth.
"Why not? Is it scary?" asked Harold.
"Not the name, no," said Hagger, removing his hand. "The person, yes, no doubt about tha', but the name…" he broke off again, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile.
"Could you write it down?" said Harold.
"Nah, never was a good speller…alrigh', just this once…his name was…Moldywart." He snorted, and broke into a fit of low giggles that sounded like grunting.
"Moldywart?" said Harold in disbelief. "His name was Moldywart?"
"Stop sayin' the name!" gasped Hagger, his face turning red. "Whatever yeh do, don't say it again. Anyway, this wizard started lookin' fer followers 'bout twenty years ago. Got a lot of them…some wanted their own bit o' power, some were just scared…and he was takin' over with them. 'Course, lotsa people stood up to him, but he killed 'em all like he was squashing ants. One o' the only safe places left was Pigzits, 'cause he didn't dare try to take the school, not then, 'cause Dunderbore is the only person That Guy was ever scared of.
"Now, yer mom and dad were a spankin' good witch and wizard…but if That Guy wants yeh killed, yer dead. No questions asked. He showed up in the village where yeh were livin', on Halloween night, when yeh were just a year old, an'…"
He paused to pull a spotted hanky the size of a tablecloth out of his pocket, and blew his nose so loud, it sounded like an overweight elephant.
"Sorry, sorry…it's just so sad…but anyway…That Guy killed 'em. And the real mystery of the whole event…he tried to kill you, too, Harold. But he couldn't. Ever wonder how yeh got tha' scar on yer forehead? That's no ordinary cut, yeh know…yeh only get one like that when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh…an' that's why yer famous. That spell killed yer parents and blew up yer house, but the only thing you got was a scar."
Thoughts and memories were swirling around in Harold's mind. As Hagger finished his story, he remembered his dream of the blinding flash of green light, and the high, cold laugh that had always confused him before…but now, he understood.
Hagger dabbed his eyes with the spotted hanky again.
"On Dunderbore's orders, I took yeh from yer house and left yeh with these gorillas…"
"That's a load of crap," said Uncle Herman, and Harold jumped. He had forgotten that the Durskeys were still in the room. It seemed as though Uncle Herman's courage, or stupidity, had come back. He stood up, hands clenched into fists, and glared at Harold.
"Now, you listen to me," he snarled. "I admit there's something weird about you, but I could probably solve it with a good spanking or two. As for all this nonsense about your parents, well, the world's better off without them, as far as I'm concerned, always knew they'd come to a sticky end…"
But at that moment, Hagger jumped up from the couch, reached into another pocket, and pulled out a tattered SpongeBob SquarePants beach umbrella. Pointing it at Uncle Herman like a dagger, he growled, "One more word, Durskey…I'm warning you…one more word…"
"What are you gonna do, protect me from the rain?" goaded Uncle Herman.
"I'LL DO A LOT WORSE THAN THAT IF YOU DON'T SHUDDIT RIGHT NOW!" roared Hagger. This threat seemed to get through to Uncle Herman, as he scurried back to his corner and fell silent.
"That's better," Hagger collapsed back on the couch, breathing as though he had just run a race. Harold, however, still had many questions in his mind.
"But where did Mold…sorry, That Guy, go? What happened to him?" he asked.
"That's a great question, Harold. He vanished. No one knows what happened to him, although they all have their guesses. That makes yeh even more famous. He was so powerful, so why did he disappear?
"Some say he passed, but I don't believe that. Don't think there's enough human in him to just die. I think he's out there, waitin'. Probably lost most of his powers, too, otherwise he'd still be takin' over. Somethin' about you finished him…maybe not for good, but fer a long time yet."
Hagger gave Harold a look with respect in his eyes, but Harold felt that this was all a mistake, instead of feeling anything close to proud. How could he be a wizard if the Durskeys had been able to bully him without being changed into bugs? If he had once defeated an evil sorcerer, how come Spudley had been able to kick him around like a soccer ball?
"Hagger," he said quietly, "this can't be right. It just can't. How can I be a wizard? You've got the wrong kid!"
"Not a wizard?" said Hagger, laughing, "You think of all the times yeh made things happen when you were angry or scared, and tell me that yer not a wizard."
Harold thought. Aunt Pansy trying to cut his hair…trying to force him into the jeans…Spudley and his gang chasing him…and just a few days ago, the escaped boa constrictor. All of these things had happened when Harold was feeling angry or scared. He looked up at Hagger and grinned.
"Told yeh," said Hagger, beaming. "Harold Plodder not a wizard, that's a good one! Wait till I tell my friends that one! You'll be popular at Pigzits!"
But Uncle Herman was not going to give up so easily.
"I already said he's not going!" he yelled. "He's going to the normal, Shmuggle public school! I looked at those letters, he needs spell books and potion ingredients and-"
"If Harold wants to go, a fat Shmuggle like you ain't gonna stop him," growled Hagger. "That's another good one, stop Harold Plodder from goin' to Pigzits! His name's been down ever since he's been born! Yeh should be proud of him! But nooo, you Shmuggles are only proud of yourselves, and that fat whale of a son between yeh. He's goin' to the finest school of magical education in the U.S., he'll meet kids his own age, and he'll be under the greatest headmaster Pigzits has ever seen, Albert Dunderb-"
"I WILL NOT PAY FOR SOME MAGICAL WEIRDO TO TEACH HIM CHEAP CARD TRICKS!" howled Uncle Herman.
But it seemed he had finally gone too far. Hagger whipped out his umbrella and pointed it at the Durskeys. "NEVER…" he thundered, "INSULT…ALBERT…DUNDERBORE…IN…FRONT…OF…ME!"
He brought the umbrella down through the air with a whoosh, pointing it at Spudley. There was a bang like a gunshot, a flash of bright pink light, a loud squeal, and the next second, Spudley was running around in a circle, clutching his nose, and yelling in pain. Aunt Pansy pulled his hands away and screamed. Spudley's nose had been replaced with a hairy pig's snout.
Uncle Herman let out a terrified cry, seized Aunt Pansy and Spudley by the wrists, and dragged them into the other room, yanking the curtain closed behind him.
Hagger fell down laughing with a crash that shook the whole shack. Harold clutched a stitch in his side, choking. When they finally calmed down, Hagger heaved himself back onto the couch, stroking his beard.
"Tha' was great!" he chortled. "But I shouldn't have lost me temper. Oh, well, too late now. Meant to turn him into a pig, but I guess there's already so many similarities there wasn't much left to do. Would yeh mind not mentioning that to anyone at Pigzits? I'm not supposed to do magic."
"Of course," said Harold, grinning. "How come you can't do magic?"
"Well…to tell yeh the truth…when I was at Pigzits…I got expelled, in me third year. They took me wand and snapped it in half, but Dunderbore let me stay as the Gamekeeper. Love that guy."
"You were expelled?" said Harold eagerly. "Why? What did you do?"
"We got lots to do tomorrow," said Hagger loudly. "We'd better get some sleep, now."
He took off his giant overcoat and threw it at Harold, who collapsed under the weight of it.
"Yeh can sleep under that," he said. "Don't worry if it squirms a bit, I think I left a few rats in the pockets."
Heehee. I just love Hagger. I hope you feel the same way. If you don't, well, I don't care. JUST REVIEW!