Excerpts from HARRY POTTER AND THE WINDOW OF SLAREBIL
The dark clouds still hovered over Hogwarts, and Padma and Parvati’s disappearance had cast a pall over those who remained. Harry had pressed Professor McGonagall for answers, but she’d just mumbled something about “legitimate concerns”. The pain in Harry’s scar was getting worse, and his mind kept skipping back to that mysterious doorway on the third floor. Midnight came. The three of them gathered at the head of the staircase.
“Alohomora!”, Hermione exclaimed. The door fell open with a click. They edged their way into the darkness. Ron’s foot struck something hard.
“Ow!”, said Ron.
It was an ornate, wooden frame, holding a pane of glass. The frame itself was covered in ancient inscriptions. Harry lit his wand, and ran it along the edge.
“I DON’T AGREE WITH WHAT YOU SAY, BUT I’LL FIGHT FOR YOUR RIGHT TO SAY IT”, Harry read. His brow furrowed. “What’s that meant to mean?”
“Bloody ‘ell”, Ron gasped.
Harry kept reading.
“WATCH JOHN OLIVER COMPLETELY DECIMATE WALMART OVER— “, he stopped himself. “These are all just nonsense words!”
“Harry!”, Hermione chided him. “Of course you’ve heard of the Window of Slarebil! Didn’t you read Professor Huffington’s textbook?”
Harry shook his head.
“It’s a legendary artefact”, Ron blurted out. “When someone looks at you through it, they see everything you think as a reasonable point of view.”
“So that’s… good, right?” said Harry, hesitantly.
“Good?”, exclaimed Hermione. “GOOD? Harry, this is incredible! This could end the war! This could end all wars! We just need to put Voldemort in front of it, and — just like that — he thinks what we’re thinking! He decides to pack it in and play Exploding Snap full-time! The world is saved!”
Harry looked peturbed.
“But would it be that easy?”, he asked. “You-Know-Who has an actual army of followers, they seem pretty… entrenched? Quite hardline? Are we really going to sit them all down and — “
Hermione hauled the window from the floor and swang it between herself and Harry. Harry’s eyes turned glassy. He felt words forming in his mouth.
“On the other hand”, Harry started, “I should listen to everything you have to say. Let’s start a dialogue, because I’m sure we both have some great ideas, and aren’t we ultimately united by more than divides us?”
“Blimey”, said Ron. “Thing really works!”
* * *
It was the first assembly since Professor Dumbledore’s return. He shook slightly, struggling to stand, as he rose to address the school.
“There has been a lot of interest in this… camp I attended”, Dumbledore said heavily. “It turns out that a lot of things about me were, well, wrong. Sinful and wrong. Luckily, with the guidance of the counsellors, a handful of therapeutic Cruciatus Curses, and the wisdom of Jesus Christ, I’m pleased to announce that I’m now utterly… normal.”
The Great Hall rang out with applause.
“That’s right. I’m a red-blooded bloke now. Lock up your women!”, he sighed.
More applause.
“In other news, Dean Thomas had his soul sucked out last night. The Dementors report Dean brandishing a wand. Though we’re obviously allowed wands, and friends say he was casting a simple Mending Charm, it could just as easily have been an unforgivable Killing Curse. Let this be a warning to be careful around the Dementors, and let’s not forget the vital work they do to protect us every day. I am proud to stand with them.”
The applause rang out, again.
The owls came, and with them the news that the Death Eaters had finally rebuilt their burned-down Hogsmeade field office, after generous donations from Hogwarts students and staff. “Good”, said Hermione. “Violence is never the answer. I gave three galleons.”
Suddenly, the Great Hall was plunged into darkness, and the sky outside was rocked by thunder. Harry bent double, overpowered by the pain from his scar.
* * *
Harry, Ron and Hermione sprinted across the grounds, bolts of dark magic flashing over their shoulders. Harry clutched the Window of Slarebil close. If they could make it to the safety of the Forbidden Forest —
“Schultzio!”, the voice boomed. Roots sprang from the ground and grabbed Harry by the legs. With his free hand, he worked to free himself, but a third shoot fired out of the ground and caught that one, too.
“Harry!”, Ron shouted. “The window!”
With his last ounce of strength, he tossed it towards Ron. In one swift motion, Ron caught the window, and lifted it between his face and Voldemort’s. Their eyes met. The air crackled with a magical energy.
“Well?” shouted Harry. “Is it working?”
Ron turned to Harry. His face took on a serene glow.
“He probably won’t be that bad, you know?”, Ron murmured.
“He probably — what?!” Harry exclaimed.
“He said about killing the Mudbloods, sure. But he’s just playing to his base, isn’t he? He’s not actually going to do that, you know?”
“What are you TALKING about?” Harry shouted, as loud as he could, his legs still rooted to the floor, his arms, too, now held fast.
“If you ask me, You-Know-Who speaks to the legitimate disaffection of large swathes of the wizarding community. Maybe we’re the ones who are out of touch with reality. Those Death Eaters can’t all be wrong, can they?”
“Hermione!”, Harry bellowed at the top of his lungs. “Do something!”
“Accio window!”, Hermione called out. The window shot out of Ron’s hands. Hermione examined it urgently.
“See, Harry! The inscriptions were on the other side! He was holding the window backwards! He was holding it — “
It was too late. Hermione’s eyes took on the same blank expression.
“Maybe I’m sort of to blame”, she muttered.
“Not you as well!”, Harry shouted back.
“All that house-elf liberation nonsense? It’s hardly something the average Slytherin will care about, is it? Maybe if we’d tortured a few Muggles, persecuted a werewolf or two, they wouldn’t have gone so extreme?”
“STOP IT!” yelled Harry. “JUST HIT HIM! HIT HIM WITH THE MAGIC! THROW A SPELL AT HIM OR SOMETHING! HE’S GOING TO KILL US ALL! IS THIS! REALLY! A POINT! OF CONTENTION!”
“Now Harry”, Hermione replied sternly. “We’ve accepted magic as the basic organising principle behind our wizard society. And this man’s clearly better at magic than we are. Don’t we owe him a chance to put his plans into action?”
“I’m sure he’d have done the same for us”, Ron shrugged.
“NO!”, replied Harry. “He’s literally killing people! You just saw him kill people! You just saw — COME ON, people! As analogues for Hitler go, this guy isn’t even subtle, is he? Look at him, for crying out loud! He’s a walking caricature! He’s the actual physical embodiment of everything we’ve ever stood against! If his robes don’t have skulls on them, they should! LOOK!”
“It’s no use just standing in opposition to things, though”, said Hermione.
“Idealism is nice, but it means nothing without results”, said Ron.
Harry cried out in pain.
“I’m just SAYING”, Harry roared. “You know the magic we know? The one thing we have left to throw at this guy? Just maybe, we shouldn’t completely abandon the idea of hitting him, really hard, in the face, with some spells. Is that so radical? Is that so hard to understand?”
“But that’s what he does”, said Hermione.
“If we do that, we’ve become the hate we’re fighting”, said Ron.
“BUT”, Harry yelled, forcing out each and every word, “HE’S. EVIL!”
“I guess we’ll just agree to disagree”, intoned Ron and Hermione in unison.
Harry fell limp. As he felt himself weaken, he heard Voldemort’s voice.
“AND NOW FOR THE END OF THE GREAT WIZARD HARRY POTTER”, it boomed. Harry screwed up his eyes, and waited for the flash of green light…
But nothing came. Harry opened his eyes. In front of him was the window.
“It might all be fine”, Harry found himself saying.
“I’ll just stay in and watch whatever the wizard equivalent of The West Wing is”, he heard coming from his mouth.
“Hopefully in a few years he’ll be discredited and things go back to exactly how they were. That’s how these things work, right?” Harry said.
“TAKE HIM AWAY”, barked Voldemort.
“I’ll get his legs”, said Hermione.
“I’ll grab his arms”, said Ron. “Sorry Harry mate, he beat us fair and square.”
And that’s how Harry Potter fucking died.
