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Larry Rotter and the Philosopher's Cologne by Sillymoo
Chapter 3 : Chapter 3-The Dragon's Cauldron
 
Rating: 12+Chapter Reviews: 4


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Chapter 3.
3 hours and 42 minutes later Hogrod the dwarf had just explained that Larry’s parents were magic, so that made him magic. This was going to be a long day.

“So, my mum was a witch, and my dad was a wizard, so that means I can do magic?” Larry asked, finally understanding what Hogrod had been saying for nearly four hours.
“Well, once you have been to Pigburps you will be able to do magic. Pigburps is a school, run by Professor Wonderwall, the finest wizard there ever was! I am groundskeeper there, and Wonderwall sent me to help you buy your things and explain anything you didn’t understand. At Pigburps you will learn to be as good at magic as your parents were.”
“So, did you know my parents then?”
“Did I know your parents? Did I know your parents?” Hogrod spluttered. “Well… actually, no. I never met them.”
“Oh. Because I was wondering how they died you see.”
“Ah, well, everybody knows that story. Years and years ago, there were these people called the Maccabees! Oh, wait, sorry. Wrong story. Ten years ago, on Halloween night, the evilest villain ever Duke Mouldywarts was walking through Bodric’s Hollow looking for ice-cream. He came across a house and thought, ‘they look like they have ice-cream’ so he smashed down the door. He killed your parents and made his way to the kitchen. He found a little one year old baby - that’s you by the way – sleeping on top of the freezer. He knew he would have to kill you to get to the ice-cream, so he performed the killing curse. But you didn’t die. Instead, Duke Mouldywarts disappeared and was never seen again. You, a little baby defeated this terrible villain, so they call you the Boy Who Didn’t Die When Mouldywarts Tried To Kill Him, because you, well, didn’t die when Mouldywarts tried to kill you I suppose. I don’t know why they didn’t come up with something catchier…”
“That’s terrible!!! This man, Mouldywarts, he came all that way for ice-cream and he died before he could get any!”
“Larry, I think you’re missing the point of the story. You survived the killing curse! No-one has ever survived the killing curse before! And no-one knows why you did. It’s a mystery, so now you’re famous.”
“Well, that makes sense, why wouldn’t I be famous? I’m amazing! Come on then, let’s go buy me a wand!”

Explanations over, they started to make their way back into the crowded street. However they were stopped in their tracks by a cluster of witches and wizards standing by the doorway.

“Larry Rotter? TheLarry Rotter? Can it be?” an elderly witch said, squinting at him through half-moon spectacles. “Ah! Yes! I see the scar on his head!
“Yes. It is I! The famous Larry Rotter! Gather round, ladies and gentlemen, for a good look at the Boy Who Didn’t Die When Mouldywarts Tried To Kill Him!!!” Larry announced, thrilled with his new found fame, and only slightly full of himself.
“My names Eileen Dover,” the old witch said, shaking his hand enthusiastically. “I can’t tell you what an honour it is to finally meet you! I’ll have to tell my husband, Ben. He will be so jealous!”
Another fan came over to introduce himself, a man with a purple flowered bonnet and carrots hanging from his ears.
“My name is Terry Bull, my sister was killed by Mouldywarts before you defeated him,” he said
“Terry Bull?” Larry repeated.
“Oh no, it’s not so bad, we weren’t that close anyway. I just wanted to say how thankful I am for ridding the world of such evil.”
“Don’t worry about it Terry, all in a days work for the Chosen One!” he arrogantly replied.
Hogrod questioned, “The Chosen One?”
“Yes, I was hoping it might catch on.”

After Larry insisted on signing autographs and buying a drink for everyone (which Puff the Magic Bartender had to pay for, seeing as they hadn’t visited the bank yet) they eventually made it out of the door.

Larry saw a movement in the shadows out of the corner of his eye and jumped up in fright into Hogrod’s arms. They collapsed onto the floor into a heap, while a creepy looking hunchback came out from behind a skip. The man was dressed entirely in black and had a mysterious growth almost the size of another head on top of his left shoulder. The mysterious head-sized growth had a paper bag on top of it and a smell like dead animals seemed to radiate from it. Or was that just Larry? He was a rotter after all…
“Larry Rotter, thuch a pleasure it ith,” he lisped, spraying Larry’s face with spit. “Thquirius Thquirrell. Thuch a pleasure.” He leaned forward to brush back Larry’s untidy black hair, to reveal his scar. “Ah, it really doth look like a fish.”
“Professor Squirrell here is Duggle Studies teacher at Pigburps” Hogrod explained.
“I’ff been promoted Hogrod, I teach Defenth againth the Dark Artth now, Hogrod. I look forward to teaching you, Rotter.” He lisped, with an attempt at a smile.
Larry started towards the stone archway.
'"Go on! Ask him why he's such an a-hole!" came a voice from beneath the paper bag.
"No! I can't! Shut up or I won't share my popcorn with you!”
Larry turns back "sorry did you say something?"
Squirrell looked innocent "Sorry? Me? Nope. I mean, ‘Thorry? Me? Nope.'" he smiled a reassuring, yet creepy, smile and Larry shrugged. "Come along, Hogrod!" he skipped through the stone archway, back to dragon alley

“Okay, so if I’m going to get some super cool (like me) wizard gear, I’m going to need some money. Is there like a secret underground bank run by goblins that’s impossible to steal from or something?” Larry asked Hogrod.
“What? That’s ridiculous! There is an ATM right over there!” Hogrod pointed to an ATM machine.
“Ah, okay cool.”
“Here is your wizard bank card. You can’t use duggle money in wizard shops. Your parents set up a trust fund for you, and they were quite the rich so you have nothing to worry about. Except scary clowns, they’re pretty worrisome…”

Larry took the bank card while Hogrod rambled on about clowns and other things he should be worrying about and made his way to the ATM machine. He was stopped in his tracks by a pale skinned, pointed faced, blonde haired, fat boy. He had a half eaten cake in his hand and pink icing all round his mouth.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the famous Larry Rotter” he said, looking at the ground next to the boy.
“Um, no, that’s a puddle. I’m the famous Larry Rotter.”
“I’m sorry, lazy eye. What can you do?”
“I see. Oh my God, I’m so sorry, was eye insensitive? Oh no, I just did it again!”
“Rotter!!! Shut up!!! I was trying to do an intimidating introduction like arch nemesis’s always do at the start of a story! You ruined everything!” The fat boy waddled off, bawling his eyes out, calling for his mummy and leaving Larry with a befuddled expression on his face about what just happened.

Larry, his pathway to the ATM now clear, proceeded to the machine. Larry had no idea about wizard money, so he took out 3 knuts, hoping that would be enough. Hogrod explained that 3 Knuts would just about buy him an ice cream sundae, so he went back to the machine and took out 30 galleons.
“That should be enough for robes, a wand, potions ingredients, quills, books… Actually, that won’t be enough. Take out more.” After 3 more visits to the bank machine, they finally were ready to do some shopping!


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