Mightier Than The Pen

Making The World A Bitter Place

Harry Potter and the Slapstick Schizophrenic

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These goblin wars are getting tiresome, thought Harry, gripping the Elder Wand and aiming at a slow-moving goblin across the road. “Anorexia Nervosa,” he whispered. A very thin, pale gray beam shot out from his wand and hit the goblin in the belly. The goblin seemed to waste away before his eyes. But he had to keep moving. Another goblin would surely see where he had cast from. He scurried back away from the hedge and then ran around through the hole in the fence back to Privet Drive.

It had been a month since the magical world had discovered that goblins were no longer vulnerable to “normal” spells. No one had figured out what caused the change – even captured goblin prisoners knew nothing – but Hermione had been reading Muggle psychiatry books, and the names of the disorders sounded like good spells. She and Ron had used Photophobia and Autophagia effectively in defending the Burrow from a horde of invaders, causing the goblins to flee and soil themselves at the slightest hint of light or inducing them to eat themselves.

The discovery proved decisive in turning the tide, but Harry knew the goblins were still numerous and clever enough to present a serious threat. He came back to conduct reconnaissance on Privet Drive alone, in his Invisibility Cloak, not certain whether he felt more threatened by a goblin ambush or the demons of his childhood. The goblins, at least, he could defeat with various forms of insanity; the Dursleys, if they still lived there, were already a few knuts short of a galleon. Harry didn’t know whether a dose of mental illness would make a difference.

Harry incapacitated a goblin patrol with Catatonia and Narcolepsia, then made his way around the neighborhood, half-wishing Hermione and Ron were there with him instead of commanding a counteroffensive to take back Wales and Cornwall. Ginny wanted to come along, but knew the younger ones needed her. Harry checked to make sure his Cloak was still covering him as he edged toward the Dursley’s back window. He thought he heard a familiar voice.

“Well…no, I mean…yes, it would be…no! I want no part of thi – OW!”

Uncle Vernon? Harry momentarily forgot he was wearing the cloak and only peeked in through the window.

Uncle Vernon apparently had a Body Bind curse on him, as he was stuck in an uncomfortable position, and a wizard with his back to Harry was sending electric shocks through the man’s body. The wizard’s posture looked familiar, and Harry recognized Draco Malfoy.

Next to Malfoy was a group of four goblins, each one uglier than the next, and just beyond them, with a look of triumph on his stupidly ugly face, Malfoy’s childhood henchman Goyle. Wonderful, thought Harry. All the people in the world I detest, right in one room. He suppressed an urge to trap them all there, and slid the window open a crack. All of Uncle Vernon’s and Aunt Petunia’s comical efforts to keep their house in tip-top shape finally had one benefit, Harry told himself as the window made not a sound. He shifted slightly to his left and pointed his wand at Goyle.

Coprophagia” he intoned silently. In the dusky light no one saw the brown stream that struck Goyle in the face. Goyle began wiggling his nose and looking around wildly. He then lunged for the backside of the nearest goblin, opening his mouth wide. The goblin yelped and leaped out of the way, bumping into a second goblin and knocking him over into Aunt Petunia’s china cabinet. The cabinet contents came crashing down as Goyle continued to shove his face toward the backside of whichever goblin was closest.

In the ensuing chaos, Harry opened the window further and clambered into the house, closing the window behind him. He aimed a second Coprophagia curse at the only goblin not participating in the melee, then turned his attention toward Malfoy.

But Malfoy had darted out of the room, the better to escape Goyle’s newfound appetite for feces, and Harry could not find a clear path to follow. But he did feel a need to pass gas, and that gave him an idea. He moved around behind Uncle Vernon’s paralyzed form and let go with the most emphatic fart he’d produced in years. It felt good to do something like that for such a constructive purpose, so shamelessly.

Goyle’s nose twitched at the scent and he lunged toward Uncle Vernon, dragging all four goblins with him. As the goblins struggled to subdue the frenzied coprophiliac, Harry moved around them and followed Malfoy out of the room into the kitchen, marveling at the power of the spells cast by the Elder Wand. The difference between his wand and others was even more pronounced in casting the Muggle disorder spells than in producing classic wizard magic. He’d have to ask Hermione about that.

Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.


Written by Thag

August 18, 2011 at 10:57 am

One Response

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  1. Nicely written!

    Jeyna Grace

    August 18, 2011 at 10:57 am

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