Without further ado, Tumbledown clutched the four marbles tightly, and chanting in Arcanum, he said, “Oparius oparum, diarlarius darlarum, send this beast a packing, back to whence it has deftly come. Oparius oparum, oparius opalarum.”
The demon-beast, however, continued its insidious creep towards them.
“Is that it?” said Box, exasperated at how bad things were shaping up.
“Yes, Muddle,” McGonagain cut in, answering for Tumbledown. “Do you have a problem with that?” she asked, her beady eyes burning into Box’s.
Taken aback by the Professor’s bad deploy, Box struggled for words.
“Leave him alone,” shouted Miocene, “what has he ever done against you?”
“Being born?” she quipped.
Paying them no attention, Tumbledown continued. He said, “Oparius oparum, diarlarius darlarum, smite these beasts of a number, smite them one two and three. Oparius oparum, oparius opalarum.”
This time he said nothing; Box kept absolutely quiet, as he watched to see if the latest chant had any effect upon the deadly threat… It did. No sooner had the last word left the old man’s lips did the gates of Hades begin to close, and the beasts to fade.
The lone beast standing free of the gates made a lunge for Tumbledown. Pressing a button on her wand, Harry shouted, “Get back!” But the old man’s reactions were slow, the passage of time having taken its inevitable, undeniable toll on his frail body, and he fell to the floor. Pinned down by one of the demon-beast’s huge claws, Tumbledown lay helpless beneath it.
The button on Harry’s wand, however, had been pressed. And aiming with deadly precision, she watched as a torrent of gushing waters, exploding out from its tip, blasted right into the beast’s gaping jaws, trying to save Tumbledown’s not entirely innocent life. Releasing its grip on the old man, tossing him aside like a rag doll, the beast roared out in anger as it skulked away to the rear of the room.
“Are you all right?” Miocene asked, helping Tumbledown to his feet, and feeling so sorry for having said such terrible things to him.
“Leave him alone,” said the Professor, “I’ll see to him.” Doting over the old man, she told her beloved Tumbledown not to worry, that everything would be all right.
“LET ME BE!” he yelled. “Have you lost your senses, woman? This is a matter of life and death!”
“Life and death?” she asked, confused, struggling with her conflicting loyalties.
“Yes,” he replied. “NOW LEAVE ME BE!”
Admonished yet again, McGonagain fell silent.
“Harry,” Tumbledown called out. “Harry, it is working, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s working,” she told him, pointing to the gates. “Look.”
It was true, the gates, now almost three-quarter of the way closed, were containing the deadly threat. With a loud bang and a clatter they finally slammed shut.
“They’re shut,” Miocene whooped with a clap of her hands. “They’re really, really shut.”
Although the gates were indeed closed, they were still semi visible, only half gone, and seeing this, Harry was unable to shake off a feeling, a small niggling feeling, down deep inside her, that something wasn’t quite right, that their victory had been perhaps too easily won.
“Harry, is it over?” Box asked, scratching his head, the stumpy wand still tight in his hand.
“It appears so,” she replied.
Pointing to the rear of the room, Miocene said, “And that beast-thingy, that ran off – what happened to it?”
“It’s gone,” Harry insisted.
“I’m glad,” Miocene replied, pocketing her wand, relaxing.
Over to one side, Professor McGonagain, saying nothing but playing, toying with the lone marble she had been given, had a little plan of her own.
Speaking ever so quietly into the shiny glass bauble, she pointed to the rear of the room, saying, “Marble hear me, McGonagain calls, restore the beast within these walls, so Albert and I can go on alone, to claim our birthright with the Philosopher’s glass stones.
Suddenly, the mad ghost, Laughing Larry, flew high into the air, where he began swooping around like he was, well, quite mad. Staring down at them, he sang out, “I know that I’m mad and I know that I was sad, but who would have thought I’d see something so very, very bad?” And he kept on singing this over and over again.
The Demon-Beast Resurrected
Her eyes glued to the fast-moving spirit, Miocene asked, “What’s wrong, Larry?”
Larry offered no reply; he just kept repeating his little song over and over again, “I know that I’m mad and I know that I was sad, but who would have thought I’d see something so very, very bad?”
“Larry, you must tell us what has gotten into you – you must tell us what you mean!” said Box, hoping the mad ghost might listen to him. But Laughing Larry just continued to fly crazily around the room, singing his little ditty over and over again.
Having seen enough, Harry took matters into her own hands, and sharply chiding the ghost, she said, “Larry, this is no way to behave, no matter how mad you happen to be!” The ghost continued his loopy flight, but watched Harry with some interest. “If you are to have any hope of getting your sanity back,” she continued, “you must tell me what has spooked you so!”
“Spooked, that’s funny,” said the ghost, swooping down low, passing close to Harry. “It’s most apt, I tell you, most apt indeed.”
Whispering to Miocene, Box said, “Why did she say that?”
The girl, having no idea, simply shrugged her shoulders.
Laughing Larry, swooping down low again, passed within inches of Harry’s face. “LARRY!” she warned, “THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE!”
Ignoring her, the ghost reverted to his usual song, “I am Laughing Larry…”
Cutting him off, Harry said, “Very well, if that’s how you want it. Let it be upon your own head.” Although it was still flying fast and furious, the ghost studied Harry with a renewed interest, especially when she withdrew her wand and began following his every move with it.
Forgetting his song, the ghost asked, “What are you going to do with that?”
Ignoring his question, her wand following his every move, Harry began chanting, “Crioninous crionan, shraholarman skryolamb-“
“STOP, STOP!” the ghost implored. “Whatever you are up to, whatever you have in mind, PLEASE don’t do it. Have you forgotten that I’m mad, that I can’t be expected to act sane all of the time?”
“Hmm,” Harry replied, with a finger to her lips for added emphasis. “From where I’m standing you appear quite sane.”
“I am, now, at this point in time,” the ghost admitted. “Listen, I’ll tell you what you want to know, what my little song meant, but please don’t Arcanum me!”
Lowering her wand, Harry said, “Go on, then, tell me.”
His demeanour changing, Laughing Larry spoke softy, quietly, and from the safety of the ceiling, he whispered, “The demon-beast – is still with us.”
When they heard this not one of them uttered a word, they were far too shocked to say anything.
Pointing with both of his hands, one to the rear of the room and the other to McGonagain, the ghost said, “It’s there – and she did it!”
Trying to splutter out a defence, the Professor, said, “I did it for you, Albert, for you and me – and the Philosopher’s Marbles.”
“Have you taken leave of your senses, woman?” Tumbledown yelled. “Have no idea of the danger you have put us all in?”
McGonagain began to cry, and sobbing uncontrollably she tried to explain her logic; “I did it for you, Albert,” she said, “I did it for you…”
The old man, his attention distracted by the grunting, growling and hissing of the demon-beast, said no more to the delusional Professor, he had far more important things to concern him than her.
“Are we all ready?” said Harry, withdrawing her wand and readying it for action.
Pushing his glasses up his nose, while holding ever so tightly onto his stumpy little wand, Box replied, “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Then nodding in the direction of the Professor, he said, “But what about her?”
“Leave her be,” said Harry, “she’s going nowhere.” Turning to the would-be girl mystic, she asked, “Are you ready, Miocene?”
“I’m all set, “she replied, her fluorescent pink wand shimmering brightly in her hand.
“Good. What about you, Tumbledown? Are you ready?” Harry asked.
The old man, clutching the four marbles like his life depended on it, said, “Yes, I’m ready.” Then without giving McGonagain as much as a passing glance, he said, “Come on, let’s be getting this over with.”
As the demon-beast continued to growl, grunt and hiss from its place of concealment to the rear of the room, the four figures, each of them seeing the world through far different eyes, made their way cautiously towards it. And although they were scared, they felt, peculiarly, quite ready to face whatever it might try against them, but having said that, when the beast made its move it, when it lashed out at them, it all happened so quickly they were still taken unawares. Yes, of course they tried to react, for what good it did, darting away from the darkness that was the beast. Box to the left, Miocene to the right, and the old man, Tumbledown, retreating to what he hoped was a safe distance away. The only person left standing, still confronting the beast, was Harry, the troublesome girl mystic.
“Have I missed something?” she asked, all alone, facing the animal from hell. Too embarrassed by their flights to safely, the