Read Harry Putter and the Chamber of Cheesecakes Online
Authors: Timothy R. O'Donnell
Caramelly Fudge, the Minister of Magic, was furious! He hated Harry Putter. Harry was alive, famous, and loved, while his own son, Maple-Walnut, had died while imprisoned in Azcabanana, notoriously infamous. He wanted Harry to die likewise. So next, he ordered a hundred of The Demented to bring Harry and the rogue Auditor Shuckthecorn in.
The Demented wear black robes, which according to all rules automatically makes them bad guys. Many that they visit become uncomfortable when they notice their skeletal hands and the black hoods that hide their numbskulls. Their presence causes a variety of reactions from those whom they visit, ranging from hysterical screaming to hysterical laughter, to hiding under the sofa. An awful lot of them start a sentence that begins, “What the…” Many have grim feelings or feelings of regret when they notice the large scythes that all The Demented carry. Some get a feeling their time has come to an end, and see their lives flash before their eyes. Some die right then and there. But few know what makes them really scary. The kiss of The Demented causes premature hair loss.
When Caramelly Fudge ordered The Demented to bring Harry and Kingsley in, it was because he remembered how much Harry feared them. Harry was very fond of his lustrous full head of hair, because he felt it was his best feature. However, Caramelly Fudge had forgotten that Harry had already overcome his fear and defeated The Demented on several occasions. Harry knew how to patronize them, and The Demented could not stand to be patronized, it was their only weakness. When they showed up, Harry dismissed them with a wave of his hand, not acknowledge them or their scariness for a second. They left feeling very dejected.
Caramelly Fudge was not finished yet. He cleared his schedule, and ordered a trial for that Friday. Harry Putter was going to face the music, and it would be a full trial, with a bench of nine judges. He, himself, would oversee the whole thing as the Chief Justice. By Thursday, the whole Ministry of Magic was practically patting themselves on the back, with the exception of Arthur Cheesley, the father of Harry’s best friend, Ron, and a big Harry Putter fan. (Arthur Cheesley had a huge collection of Harry Putter apparel and toys.) When word of the trial reached him in the Department of Muddle Artifacts, he immediately rushed over to the Dirtley House. Apparently, his way of keeping Harry calm about the trial was to pace around saying over and over, “What are we going to do?” No matter how many times Harry told him not to worry about it, he just couldn’t stop. Harry finally had to call Mrs. Cheesley to take him home.
Meanwhile, the rest of the ministry was happily excited; they were finally going to nail that impudent delinquent, Harry Putter on something. They didn’t really care what it was, just as long as they were able to lock him away in Azcabanana Prison, the prison for wizards.
When Friday came, Caramelly Fudge was beaming with delight as he donned his judge’s robe. It was going to be a great day! When the court bailiff announced him, he marshaled into the courtroom pompously. He took his seat among the eight other judges, all his puppets, and smiled wickedly down from the ridiculously high bench at the boy. It was a good sign that the boy showed up, he had secretly been wondering what he would do if he hadn’t. Better still, the boy was alone, as planned.
Harry had shown up because he was bored, and thought the trial might pass the day. He had heard prisoners get three square meals a day, and he found it amusing that he was tempted to try it out. He seriously doubted that Azcabanana Prison could be any worse than living with the Dirtleys. But in all seriousness, he doubted that he’d have the kind of adventures that he really enjoyed at school, if he were imprisoned, so he had no intention of allowing them to throw him in the wizard jail.
The trial was being held in the same courtroom that his previous trial had taken place; however, it was even dustier than last time. He doubted it had been used since. He sat in his chair feeling very small in front of the row of judges that stared down at him like an accusation.
Judge Fudge began, “Mr. Putter, I notice that your counsel is absent today, where’s Grumblesnore?”
“I dunno,” shrugged Harry.
Fudge tittered to himself, for he knew very well where Elvis Grumblesnore was. Professor Grumblesnore, the schoolmaster of Hogwashes, was on the sixth floor of that very building. He would be answering a barrage of Auditor questions for the rest of the day. Fudge had arranged the whole thing. He thought, “Grumblesnore won’t get you off the hook this time!”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” he frowned, “but we can’t reschedule the trial, we’re very busy you know.”
The rest of the judges continued to silently scowl down at Harry as if he was a war criminal. However, Perky Cheesley, the court transcriptionist, laughed until his nose turned brown. Perky Cheesley was the estranged brother of Harry’s friend Ron. He was also Caramelly Fudge’s adoring underling. Perky Cheesley was a huge moron in many ways and somehow had gotten hooked on Caramelly Fudge, and wanted nothing more than to have Caramelly Fudge like him, and if that meant hating Harry Putter too, so be it. Perky could do that.
His father, Arthur Cheesley had disowned him for it. To Arthur, liking Caramelly Fudge was bad enough, but disliking Harry Putter well, that was going against the family! In fact, Arthur wished Harry was family, almost as much as he wished Perky wasn’t. Each member of the whole Cheesley family is a certified, card-carrying member of The Order of the Harry Putter Fan Club, except Perky.
“Let’s see,” said Fudge as though he weren’t intimately familiar with the case, “you have been sent, oh dear, how many? I can’t count them all. Forty-seven warning notices for the use of magic by a sixth year student, and in the presence of muddles!” He put a note of shocking appall in his voice. “How can this be, school has been out only one week! What’s this? Refused to relinquish his wand! Tsk, Tsk! Attacked ministry personnel! Subverted ministry personnel! And patronized The Demented! Harry Putter, have you no shame? Whatever has become of the good little boy, I once knew? It can’t be true! There must be some mistake! Eh, how do you plead?”
“Not Guilty.”
“What?” Fudge let slip. He couldn’t believe this hoodlum had the audacity to plead “Not Guilty.”
“Not Guilty,” Harry repeated a good deal louder.
After a moment to collect his thoughts, Fudge said, “Right, well, let’s get this young man sworn in shall we?”
The bailiff had Harry put his hand in the Thumbscrew of Truth or Ulp. Then asked Harry, “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you or else, Ulp?”
Harry was nervous now, his voice cracked when he said, “I-I do.”
The magic thumbscrew began to glow with a soft blue light, and rotated to a point of discomfort. Harry knew that any lies would cause the Thumbscrew of Truth or Ulp to tighten unmercifully; the pain would be excruciating, and the lie would be obvious to all who viewed his writhing pain. Harry had no choice but to tell the truth.
Caramelly Fudge smiled his wicked smile again, and began. “You are Harry Putter of 4 Privy Drive?”
“Y-y-yes.”
“And you are a student at Hogwashes School for Witchcraft and Wizardry?”
“Yes.”
“And how long has school been in recess this summer?”
“Since last Friday. One week.”
“And since last Friday, have you used magic?” Fudge peered closely at Harry.
“Yes.”
“Ah ha! And how many times have you used magic?”
“I don’t know, dozens of times.” To Harry’s relief the thumbscrew didn’t automatically tighten when he didn’t know the precise answer. Just as long as he told the truth, he would be fine.
“And have you received any warning notices regarding the use of magic during your recess?’
“Yes.”
“And you understand what those warnings mean?”
“Yes.”
“Oh really? It doesn’t seem to me you did!” Fudge looked around the bench, and received the laughter from this statement that he felt it deserved.
“So, after receiving the warnings, you continued to perform magic? Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“A total of forty seven times this past week?”
Harry was worried that this question was a trap. He had lost count of how many times he had used magic on the Dirtleys, and was indeed a bit surprised that it was so often. If he said yes, and it was the wrong amount, would the Thumbscrew tighten? Drops of sweat began to bead on his forehead. He replied, “If you say so, Sir.”
“Yes, I do say so. You received forty-seven warning notices, and ignored them all! In fact, didn’t a ministry authority come to collect your wand?”
“Yes.”
“And did you use magic on him?”
“Yes.”
“Instead of relinquishing your own wand, you captured his, did you not?”
“I did.”
“And you sent him packing didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“Shameful! Is that how you treat representatives of the ministry?”
“Usually.”
Fudge paused. The scowls of the nine silent black-robed judges became deeper and more sinister in appearance.
Fudge continued, “And afterward, the Ministry of Magic sent an Auditor to collect your wand, did you use magic on him?”
“No.”
Fudge paused again, a bit confused. He expected that the Thumbscrew of Truth or Ulp would have the boy writhing for his last answer. “Bailiff, is that Thumbscrew in working order?”
The bailiff stepped forward, and said, “It passed its morning check, was working fine.”
“Test it again,” Fudge ordered.
The bailiff removed the Thumbscrew of Truth or Ulp from Harry, and placed it on his own hand. “I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth or else, Ulp.”
Then the bailiff braced himself and said, “I love my mother-in-law!” He was quickly thrashing around in agony. In a panic, he began shouting, “I hate her! I can’t stand her. I hate my mother-in-law!” His pain subsided.
“It’s workin’ just fine!” The bailiff removed the device, and swore Harry back in.
“Shall we continue?” Fudge cleared his voice. “The Ministry of Magic sent an Auditor to collect your wand, did you use magic on him?”
“No.”
Fudge frowned, disappointed. He did not know how Harry could have subverted the Auditor without magic, but, no matter, he had Harry Putter right where he wanted him. The boy had admitted under oath to using magic forty-seven times during the first week of summer recess! It was an open and shut case. He would wrap it up very soon.
“Fine. The ministry then sent The Demented to collect you and your wand, did you use magic on The Demented?”
“No.”
Fudge scowled. “So, you have admitted to using magic forty-seven times this week! Yet, for some reason, you chose to plea, ‘Not Guilty!’ Were you confused about the meaning of Not Guilty?”
“No, Sir.”
“Quite right! You pleaded Not Guilty because you thought you could weasel your way out it, like you did last trial!”
“No, Sir.”
“Well then, would you like to change your plea to Guilty then?”
“No, Sir.”
Caramelly Fudge rapped his gavel and stood up. He was infuriated. “What are you saying Harry Putter? That you are Not Guilty after you have already admitted in front of all of us that you are!”
“No, Sir.”
“‘No, Sir?’”
“The law states, ‘The use of all methods of magical incantation, enchantment, and summoning by any 1st through 6
th
year students outside of Hogwashes School for Witchcraft and Wizardry is strictly forbidden and most definitely not allowed,’” quoted Harry. “However, this rule doesn’t apply to me.”
“No one is above the law, Harry Putter!” Fudge raised his voice. “I am very disappointed in you, boy. Just because you are a celebrity of sorts, does not mean you will be treated differently in the eyes of this court! Justice is blind!”
“That’s not what I mean, Sir.”
“No? But you say this rule doesn’t apply to you? How so?”
“The law applies to students from their 1
st
year through their 6
th
year. After six years of school, any student is old enough to use magic at home. In fact, most students, after six years, are encouraged to begin to use magic to help out around the house, doing dishes, cooking, straightening up.”