Larry Trotter And The Weight Of Expectation

As Larry entered the great hall of Snogwarts, the fireball scar on his forehead began to burn intensely.  He rubbed the scar to try and sooth the pain, then sought out his friends at the breakfast table.

“What’s wrong Larry?” enquired Jon Jizzley, looking at his friend with grave concern.

“It’ll be his scar again” piped up Helena Stranger, the class know-it-all.  “Larry’s scar always plays up when there’s danger afoot”.

A sudden thump on the bench next to them threw their current discourse off course, and almost threw the young 11 years olds into the air with its intensity.  A giant of a man had plonked himself down on the bench and started helping himself to the morning porridge, getting more of it in his scraggly grey beard than in his mouth.

“Did I hear something about danger?” said the man, formally known to the children as Sadgit.

Larry felt uncomfortable.  Although Sadgit was one of his most trusted friends, he was still an adult and a member of staff at Snogwarts.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to speak openly in front of Sadgit in case he reported him to the headmaster, Bumblebore.

“Always up to mischief, just like your father!” proclaimed Sadgit with a certain amount of enthusiasm.

“Why do you always say that?” asked Larry.

“Say what?”

“That I do things like my father.  I never even knew my parents.  Every time you mention them it just rubs that fact in even more”.  Larry looked down at his breakfast, trying to fight back tears and the memories of his deceased parents.  Jon patted Larry on the back in comfort.

To aid your understanding of the story, here's a picture Ron Weasley.

“Well Larry, it’s just that everything you say and do is exactly like your mother and father.” ventured Sadgit “They were great people.  They always wanted you to be a lizard, Larry.”

“A lizard?”

“Wait, that’s not right.  LINE!?”

A stagehand popped his head from behind the soundstage.  “It’s ‘wizard’”

“Of course!  You’re a wizard, Larry!”

“I know!  I’m in a fucking school for magic you great oaf!”

“That’s exactly what your mother used to say.”  Beamed Sadgit.

“Just shut up”

“That’s exactly what your father used to say.”

Larry went silent for a moment as he tried to conjure up a phrase or sentence that his parents would surely never have uttered before.

“I put fish fingers up my arse!”

Sadgit looked stunned for a moment.  “Wow, it’s just like your dad is sitting here.  It’s uncanny!”

The next few minutes passed in silence as Sadgit wolfed down more than his fair share of porridge, then stood up and went to feed his collection of rabid gerbils.  Although Sadgit had a kind heart, he was incredibly annoying and Larry was glad to see the back of him for now.

The three friends continued their breakfast, gulping down spoonfuls of hideously bland bilge and discussing homework details that are so banal, I’m not even going to include them in the narrative.  This whole paragraph is just a set up to move time along slightly until we reach the next plot point.  Sorry to waste your time.

Just then, a swirling vortex appeared in the Snogwarts dining hall.  Pupils began screaming, especially Diego Malfoy, the foreign exchange student, who squealed like a pig strapped to a wrecking ball that was busy demolishing a razor blade factory.  Out of the churning blue portal popped a being so evil that his name cannot be uttered upon these pages, but I’m going to anyway because I’m so cool and rebellious.  His name was Moldyfoot.  The dark wizard, the evil one, he-who-cannot-be-identified-for-copyright-purposes.  He had returned, and he was bent on destroying Snogwarts and Larry once and for all.

I AM ANGRY.  ANGRY ABOUT EVIL!

“What is the meaning of this?”  Boomed Bumblebore from across the room, rising from his seat in righteous indignation.

“I have returned” replied Moldyfoot, in case anyone missed his dramatic entrance “You and your precious friends shall die!”

Bumblebore wasn’t the kind of 700 year old man to be messed with.  Without further provocation, he grabbed a parrot from a nearby perch, set it alight as though it was a Molotov cocktail, then hurled it at Moldyfoot.  It struck a direct hit, exploding in a shower of fire and feathers that would make PETA shit their pants.

“Mwahahaha!  Your cheap tricks cannot harm me!”

As the smoke cleared, Moldyfoot reappeared utterly unharmed by the parrot’s sacrifice.  With a flick of the wrist, the dark lord shot out a big red bolt of magical energy straight at Bumblebore, killing him immediately.  He then threw a snake at Professor Snake, who was ironically devoured instantly.

The other teachers and pupils were already gathering behind Larry.  He was the most powerful wizard in the school.  Everyone knew it because his parents were also powerful wizards.  They begged Larry to save them from the evil one.  It was his destiny, to enact revenge for his parents and save the entire magical realm in this instant.  As Moldyfoot turned to confront Larry, the weight of the world was upon his shoulders.  People were depending on him.  Larry raised his wand in preparation.

“Actually, screw this!  I’m done” declared Larry, dropping his wand to the floor.

“But Larry, I killed your parents!  Don’t you want to battle me?”

“Not particularly.  I’m so tired of being compared to my parents that I’m actually glad you killed them”

Moldyfoot smiled.  “That sounds just like something your father would say…”

Within two seconds, Moldyfoot laid dead on the ground.  The smoking barrel of Larry’s 12 gauge plumes with delight and a sense of relief.  The weight had been lifted.  This story, in no way, condones the use of guns in schools.

The End (thank God!)