Magorian was sure he could handle local portkey travel, but intercontinental portkey travel grew exponentially in time as the distance between the two points lengthened. It was such a bother, in fact, that the powers that be provided those who had to endure such long flights with airplane-like accommodations. He just wished he had some real entertainment to keep him amused, like watching bears dance or scaring little children with his spear. Twiddling with a piece of lint could only hold his interest for so long, after all. A glance at Dumbledore’s twelve-handed watch told him that he was still only nearing the half-way point.
The centaur was just about to stuff the lint into the baby’s mouth when something caused the passenger next to him to convulse. All of a sudden, Sinistra began to shine, and the spinning tye-dye ground started to ripple. Magorian would have thought she was turning Supersaiyan if he didn’t know better. Her horse half began to shrink and transform until she was a normal human again.
“Albus, the spell wore off,” she said, resuming her newspaper as if nothing happened.
“Good We couldn’t have two centaur teachers Not that there’s anything wrong about being a centaur, Magorian.” said Dumbledore, turning to him.
What Dumbledore saw was Magorian’s jaw dropped to the very extent it could go. He realized he would have to explain what just occurred in a gentle, non-judgmental manner.
“Magorian, you idiot, didn’t you ever realize she wasn’t a real centaur!? Whoops, that came out wrong…”
“I feel so used,” he replied, shivering.
“C’mon, Magorian, don’t feel bad. It isn’t your fault you couldn’t tell,” said Sinistra. “It was The Savant’s. The sadist is just using you as a pawn to wantonly accrue more and more reviews for his own sick purposes.”
“Still, I should have caught on. Now that I think about it, there were a lot of clues. Like when you had to ask where centaurs defecate, or that time you couldn’t shoot a sparrow out of a tree.”
“Using a bow is a lot harder than it seems, Professor,” she said defensively.
Magorian tried to shrug this revelation off by doing a crossword puzzle. Unfortunately, it was a very hard crossword puzzle. The only clue he think he knew the answer to was 37 Across. I know that I know this one What’s a four-letter word for a David Bowie song? Jean? No, that was Jean Genie… Changes is seven letters… Definitely not Ziggy Stardust…
After a few more hours of staring into space, delving into the recesses of his mind to come up with the appropriate four-letter song title, the Elvira card suddenly dropped out of its magical axis and the colors vanished. The trio found themselves 30 feet in the air, and were falling rapidly towards what looked like a field. Sinistra landed on her feet, Magorian on his knees and Dumbledore on his buttocks ("Ow! Dammit, I already have cramps!"). They were finally on the smooth grassy lawn of the Hogwarts grounds.
Magorian brushed himself off and, cupping his hands around his mouth, called into the night. Before the others could question him, a bear sprinted out of the forest and skidded to a halt near the centaur, panting in exhaustion.
“Oh Ganglia, I missed you so much ” he laughed, scratching behind the bear’s ears and feeding it a bit of ferret carcass he found in his saddlebag.
Dumbledore was not one to make his impatience very subtle. “Quickly, chieftain, we must return with all speed Who knows what Oigroig could be doing to my students right now!?”
Magorian and Sinistra tried to restrain their laughter, but it was no use.
“This is no time to laugh We must save the children from Oigroig as soon as possible!”
“But how can someone named Oigroig possibly be a threat?” she giggled.“Don’t be fooled by his clownish name, Sinistra, he is a force to be reckoned with.” Dumbledore sighed, realizing this was the point of the chapter where he had to divulge the main antagonist’s history.
“It all started when he was born a Squib. Out of resentment, his witch mother gave him a really awful name. All the kids his age made relentless fun of him, and he grew to abhor those blessed with better names. By about a week ago, on his fortieth birthday, he had saved up enough money to but a dingy little semi-roofless apartment he calls his ‘lair’ next to a science fiction paraphernalia store. Ever since then, he has been hatching a scheme to put the entire world under his rule. All those with decent monikers would die violently at hands of his devoted.”
“If he’s a Squib, then how did he obtain so much power?”
“I’m afraid that is as far as my knowledge of the matter goes, Sinistra. I suppose it’s a plot hole. But enough dawdling ” Dumbledore interrupted himself. “We must save the school ”
“And we save the school by forking me over to him?” interjected Magorian.
“In a matter of speaking, yes.”
“Great. I just blew a chance to get a harem to be sacrificed. What does he want with me anyway?”
“I have no idea, chieftain. Are you always this selfish? You’re one person, and there are an as of yet undetermined number of children in there (Even though there have been many fine essays on the issue.)” he said, pointing across the lake to the castle. Then he checked his watch. “We must ride, posthaste It’s already night ”
Sinistra rolled her eyes and addressed Magorian. “It’s supposed to be night, seeing as how it was day in Australia.”
And with that, they both mounted the centaur and galloped off to the front gates. (It was then that Dumbledore resdiscovered the usefulness of saddles, for Mago’s bucking was doing nothing to soothe his aching hips.)
Magorian neighed and swerved to a stop. There was something strange about the castle, yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on it... Their pairs of eyes scoured the castle for anything peculiar that might be on its ancient walls. It was Dumbledore who spotted the anomaly first; it made him regress his steps a bit and gasp.
“What is it, Professor, sir?” asked an alarmed Sinistra.
“L-look at the s-sign ” Dumbledore stammered in horror.
Two more gasps broke the silence around them, for they too now spotted what was wrong with the castle. The sign that previously bore the inscription “Hogwarts” now read
“Merlin’s beard ” exclaimed Sinistra. “They’ve turned the castle backwards ”
Every turret and buttress was now on the wrong side of the building.
“Who knows what he did to the interior of my school? ” yelled the old man.
“C’mon, Dumbledore, don’t worry. We’ll let Ganglia go inside first and test the water.” said Magorian. When they did so, and Ganglia came back fine, they dared to open the tall oak doors and enter the Great Hall.
They closed the large oak doors behind them and regarded their surroundings pensively. The only thing that seemed to have changed--the expected position reversal--was negligible, because everything in the Great Hall was perfectly symmetrical anyway. Relieved that no other obstacle was present at the moment, together they ran straight towards the end of the hall, letting their feet decide where to go.
They were lucky, for what awaited them at the end of the lengthy hallway was exactly what they need to see. Beautifully rendered, wavering green text had been etched into the wall before them.
Bring the one named “Magorian” to me by eight o’clock tonight, it read. I simply refuse to take my tea any later. Bring him to me by then, Dumbledore, or I’ll incinerate all your precious pupils. I’m at the top of the North Tower.
“What time is it?” panicked Sinistra.
Dumbledore checked his watch for the eighty-eighth time that day (it was now on his other arm), and his eyes popped out. 7:53. “I knew we shouldn’t have wasted all that time outside I swear, the only time you two ever engage in intelligent conversation is when you have no time in which to do so How are we ever going to get there on time?”
“I think I know a way,” said Magorian, unfazed. He rummaged through his saddlebag and took out a rubber ducky.
Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon glasses, squinting to make sure his vision wasn’t tricking him. “How is a... rubber ducky... going to help us?”
“Well, Dumbledore, you’re the headmaster, so you should know,” he said enigmatically.
Dumbledore looked puzzled for a second, and then the light of comprehension filled his eyes with their patented sparkle. “Ah, of course I'm sorry, chieftain. You must understand, I’ve been headmaster for more than fifty years and it isn't difficult to forget such obscure, seemingly unimportant arcana. Nevertheless, I should have remembered that waving a plastic yellow idol in the Great Hall on a night of the waning gibbous moon opens a secret passageway to the North Tower ”
“Wow, how… convenient,” said Sinistra. “Well, you’d better hurry, because it’s already 7:95.” (Wizarding time is metric.)
Magorian waved the ducky ardently, and the bricks of the wall to his left (it was normally the bricks of the wall to his right) rolled back, revealing a clandestine corridor with three bright blue Toyota rocket-cars. They took a second to admire their all-wheel drive and GPS/Onstar capabilities before driving the winding slope up to the North Tower. (Magorian had to sit on the hood and maneuver the steering wheel with his arms to his back.) Finally they reached the end of the passage. Sinistra spared on time opening the hatch to the North Tower. What greeted her eyes was wholly unexpected.
Oigroig could be seen with a baseball bat in his hands, in a sort of story circle with all the children he had taken hostage, and four or five students tied up at the center of the ring, moaning through their gags and struggling against their bonds.
“Alright, who would like to play ‘Pummel the Dean Thomas’ next?” shouted Oigroig. All of the kids soon raised their hands and stood on their tiptoes in their fervor to be the next one he picked.
“Me Me Pick me ”
“No, me ”
“I wanna do it ”
“You already had a go, Zabini, it’s my turn ”
“Please, sir, my name is Orla Quirke. I want to be the next one to smash him ”
Oigroig gave the bat to a grateful Orla, who immediately commenced to pound on the poor kid named Dean Thomas.
“What is going on? What is this madness? ” exclaimed Albus, causing Oigroig to turn around.
“Ah, so you’ve come after all,” Oigroig drawled airily. “You really needn’t have-- it turns out most of your students are exceedingly eager to join my cause. I wouldn't blame them if I were you. If your name was Draco Malfoy or Euan Abercrombie or any of the other names these undeserving human beings have been afflicted with, wouldn't you be just as unrelenting towards those endowed with normal names as them? I mean, seriously, would you rather be named ‘Hermione Granger’ or something palatable like Hannah Abbot or Seamus Finnigan? I personally believe that it's good to let them vent like this.”
“I’m sorry about this, Harry. But not really ” said Hermione as she stepped out of the ring and mercilessly bludgeoned her immobilized friend. Several others began clubbing with reckless abandon, completely disregarding the presence of their principal.
Enough ” screamed Dumbledore. He Gandalf-ishly smote the ground for effect. “Now, I don’t exactly have the most run-of-the-mill name either, but you don’t see me ever destroying people named ‘Mark Evans’ or slaughtering towns full of ‘Browns’, do you? Have you no self-control? You should all be ashamed of yourselves ”
“Shut up, Albus, you’re not EVIL like I am. If I weren’t EVIL, this fic wouldn’t be very interesting,” responded Oigroig.
“It still isn’t interesting, sir. I’ve read fertilizer salesman handbooks that were more exciting than this rubbish,” said Malfoy.
“Oh, excellent comeback, Draco, excellent Draco Malfoy is one of many of my new converts, Albus, and I daresay that not even another one of your ickle speeches can twist their allegiance now Especially now that I've become the height of cool buying a new Toyota (TM) Highlander EXE, with power windows and deluxe braking, maximized to give you perfect handling in the most challenging and rugged terrain.
"Now, on to business. I came here to kill a centaur named Magorian. Are you Magorian?”
“Erm… maybe?” said Magorian.
“Good, good, Magorian is here. Which leaves me with one thing to do,” uttered the villain. He lifted his cloak and let it fly in the wind. Every inch of his shirt was embedded with a black cartridge that had a shark’s silhouette on it. His entire upper body was riddled with Gamesharks
That explains how he got so powerful, said the author from his laptop. And why Magorian was so weak during the battle last chapter.
“Ooooooooooh,” said everyone.
“Yes, it’s true ” roared Oigroig triumphantly. “I’ve got every code on me: infinite health, infinite ammo, infinite lives, all cheats and secrets unlocked, the works. You name it, I’ve got it on me on one of these here Gamesharks.”
“That’s hardly fair. I haven’t got a chance against someone like you,” said Magorian.
“You’re right, it wouldn’t be fair. That is, if we were in a fighting game or something. But I have something very different in mind. Very different indeed.”
Oigroig and his main goons (Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom) all began to cackle evilly.
"Mwahaha.MWAHAHAHAHA!!MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" they cackled evilly.
Fame! That was what the answer to 37 Across was! thought Magorian.
“Man, I really can’t wait for Chapter 9. Yep, Chapter 9 would be really swell right now,” said Dumbledore, winking at the computer monitor in the sky.
“Psst. That's your cue to end the chapter on a cliffhanger,” said Sinistra.
Oh, right.