The Shadow of the Platypi

Harry was restless. He tossed and turned from side to side, but couldn't sleep. Right as he was about to drift away, he heard a soft whisper of his name. Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry hoped it was just his imagination playing weird Jedi mind tricks on him. However, he could not ignore the irritating pokes to his side. Harry cautiously opened his eyes only to meet the beady, tennis ball eyes of Dobby, the emancipated house elf.

"Harry Potter must not go to potions class."

"Dobby, what are you doing here?"

"Dobby is here to warn Harry Potter, sir. If Harry Potter goes to potions class, he will be in grave danger. Harry Potter must not go to potions class."

"Dobby, it is the middle of the night. I'm trying to sleep and your repulsive looks are freaking me out."

"Dobby is sorry for 'freaking' sir out." Dobby picked up Harry's copy of Quidditch through the Ages and began to hit himself with it repeatedly. "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"

Harry hushed the self-destructive house elf, "Quiet Dobby! You'll wake everyone up! Now, what do you mean that I can't go to potions class?"

"Harry Potter will be in grave danger at potions class. That is all Dobby can say."

And with a snap of his fingers, Dobby was gone.

The next day, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in the last row in the back corner of the room. "Ron, hurry up and finish copying," Harry hissed. "Snape's gonna find out and then we're sure to die a horrible death: full of pain and spiders I bet. I don't know about you, but I'm too young to die!" Hermione poked at Harry.

"What do you want, ho?"

"Ah, yes. Well, it doesn't seem as important in comparison to your premature death, but, if you really want to know, Malfoy just passed this to me. Look," she shoved a rolled up newspaper at him. "Front page."

Harry unrolled the Daily Prophet and read it out loud. "Oh. 'Hermione Harry's Ho?' Prophet exclusive.Yeah. Uh, that's really something, isn't it. Well, at least we know it's all lies and rumors. Nobody actually believes that horrible Skeeter woman anyway." Harry shifted awkwardly as Ron chuckled.

"Shut up, Ron."

"After you mince the frog, add it to your blender and pulse on low until your potion turns pale orange. But I doubt it will, since most of you are incompetent, stupid gits." Snape ordered the class. They followed his directions like mindless zombies, quite afraid to not comply with his demands. He looked directly at Harry and Ron with an intense look of resentment and overall abhorrence. "Fifty points from Gryffindor!" the Professor sneered.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a purple platypus with foam spewing from its mouth lunged at Snape and effortlessly ripped his throat out. It took the bitter instructor in its beak and shook the limp body around with morbid glee, its beady red eyes glistening with pure delight. Snape's death rattle echoed through the classroom and surpassed the din of the churning blenders. The class stared in astonishment while Neville in the back row stood up and cheered.

"I've prayed for this day!"

Nevertheless, the platypus's rampage was not satisfied with just one helping of human flesh. Besides, Snape tasted kind of old and sour. Turning to the hole it dug in the classroom wall, the platypus signaled its many mates to come in and share in the all-you-can-eat buffet. The students watched in horror as an army of purple beasts waddled menacingly towards them.

Harry, being quick-witted and generally bright, shouted "Run for your lives!" The students did not hesitate at all. Unfortunately, a girl from Hufflepuff was not fast enough and a particularly fat platypus swallowed her whole.

Running as fast as they could, the children spread through the halls. By now, the platypi had set up a perimeter around Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry found Hermione cowering in the girls' bathroom.

"Where's Dumbledore?" he asked desperately.

"I don't know! I think he's been hogtied and taken prisoner!"

"Isn't he a powerful wizard?"

"Yes, but things don't have to make sense in this story, do they Harry?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

Harry thought on this a bit then with his confused face on, decided not to argue with his friend. Besides, she often made him very confused, mostly because of the really big words she used and that word "hogtied" really threw him off. The two went to find Ron, who at the moment was fighting off a platypus: a platypus armed with a lightsaber.

"Ron!" Harry shouted. "What does that thing have?"

"I don't know!" he replied. "But I think it upgraded its weapon from another movie!"

Caught up in conversation with Harry, the platypus seized the moment to slice off Ron's arm. Ron screamed in pain as he watched his former limb fly through the air. It then landed on Malfoy who began yelling in dismay.

"What was THAT WEASLEY? You think you're ALL THAT now because your ARM falls off. Well, you're NOT. I have a bad BRITISH acCENT," Malfoy said curtly and with an abundance of spit.

The platypus loomed over Ron and suddenly, IT SPEAKS!

"Ron (heavy breathing)... know this..."

Ron checked his breath because he thinks he might have had a few too many butterbeers. But then knowing he is completely sober (probably), turned back to the talking platypus.

"(more heavy breathing) ...I am your father..."

Ron stood in silence, completely astounded by the platypus's revelation, feeling rather faint, either from the news, or his violently hemorrhaging wound.

"Really?" he squeaked.

The platypus shook its head, "Well, not really, I can't back that up. I'm a platypus, you stupid git."

Ron grabbed his fallen arm and with savage rage beat the platypus to death. Even after he knew it is far from breathing its last breath, he continued to thrash it, screaming obscenities and spitting quite a bit. Hermione and Harry kept their distance at first but then realize they must interfere before Ron completely lost his marbles.

"Ron!" Harry yelled, grabbing his friend's only arm. "It's over, the mean platypus is dead."

"You're (pound) not (hit) my (slap) father!! (Onomatopoeia)

"Just give it up," Hermione sighed, taking away the loose arm.

After regaining his composure, Hermione let Ron have his missing limb back. Using mainly duct tape and a little bit of super glue, he managed to reattach most of it. However, upon constant nagging from Hermione, Ron went to the infirmary to have it fastened properly and Hermione escorts him away, leaving Harry once again alone.

The platypi were now tunneling underground and using spoons as buttresses. They would take their victims into their caves and feast. Their most favorite meal was little girls that were on the chubby side but they didn't mind little boys with glasses. Of course, that made Harry a prime target so he locked himself in the Gryffindor tower alone. Or so he thought...

Hedwig stood on the windowsill and stared at Harry, watching his every move, in that cold, calculating, weird bird way. Harry approached his beloved pet cautiously.

"Hey Hedwig...I got some...mice for you?"

Hedwig didn't budge, her eyes did not blink. She stared intently at Harry, almost as if she was staring through his soul.

"Hedwig, girl, what's wrong with you?"

Suddenly, Hedwig beat her wings wildly and her eyes glazed over becoming blood red. She screeched loudly and called out in a shrill bird voice, "I'M GONNA EAT YOUR SOUL!!!!" Harry screamed like Hermione. Concluding that his bird was not afflicted by something of the dark arts but instead was possessed or bitten by a vampire thus being controlled by this evil demon, he decided not to use his wand. Rather, he took out the bottle of Holy Water that he keeps handy in his back pocket and threw it at his once precious bird. Hedwig melted into a puddle of slush, feathers, and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"Oi. That's gross. Oh, bloody hell. Now I can't send any messages."

After helping himself to some bird flavored beans, Harry declared Gryffindor tower no longer safe. Harry hurried down the stairs only to find Neville Longbottom dangling halfway out of a platypus's mouth.

"Harry!" Neville shouted. "A little help here, please!"

"Hang on, Neville," Harry replied bravely, wracking his mind for an idea.

But alas, Harry was too late: the platypus had already chewed up Neville greedily and beat its chest in a domineering King Kong sort of way. Lost in the platypus's gluttonous gulps, Neville's cries went unheard. It then turned to Harry, ready for another snack. Harry ran as fast as his legs can carry him, hearing the creature toddle behind him at full speed.

From the platypus, a shrill blood-curdling cry erupted: "HOOOOONK!!!"

Harry trembled with fear but he did not look back. He closes his eyes tightly and continues to sprint. Not knowing where he is going, he ran into Malfoy.

"What do YOU want POTTER?"

Harry was out of breath, "Get... get out of the way! There is a platypus right behind me!"

"Then why don't YOU face IT, POTTER? What's SO scary about IT?"

Malfoy turned to the platypus, who is now closing in on the two boys. He took out his wand and prepared to cast a charm on the terrible entity. Suddenly, the platypus used its telekinetic powers to take Malfoy's wand and use it as its own. Malfoy stared in disbelief as the platypus raised the wand over his head and uttered a horrifying spell.

"HOOOOOOONK!!!!"

Malfoy withered in terror as he transformed into a t-shirt that read: "I LOVE HARRY POTTER" on the front and on the back: "I WANT TO HAVE HIS BABIES." Harry, though tempted to keep it and wear it on Sundays and to Quiddich practice, realized his life was still on the line, and continues his mad dash to find Dumbledore.

In running, however, Harry ran right smack into Professor McGonagall who was conducting her own search for Dumbledore in the Great Hall (under tables, in electrical outlets, and impossibly small mouse holes, mostly).

"Mr. Potter, why aren't you with everyone else outside with Hagrid?" she asked in that

"I got lost?"

"Always have excuses, don't you, Mr. Potter? I suggest you hurry out there at once."

For once, deciding not to argue with authority and hoping to find Hermione and Ron, Harry ran towards entrance. Exiting the school building, he spied a great sea of students on the school's grounds. In vain, Harry scanned the crowd for his friends. Hagrid, meanwhile, was quite visible towering over the students at the center of the crowd, yelling the whereabouts of the platypi.

"The platypi haf crowded o'er on de west side of de skool! E'rybody stay together!"

As Harry looked at the chattering crowd, a huge explosion occurred right in the center. Harry could do nothing but watch in horror as his giant friend also exploded into a burst of pretty purple sparkles. Students screamed in panic as bodies flew through the air like dry leaves on a blustery autumn day. Harry ducked down in seeking protection from flying dismembered limbs, kidneys and other unpleasant debris pelting against him. Only one group could be responsible for the terrible bloodshed of innocents: platypi or Nazis (or Nazi platypi, perhaps).

Harry was uncertain what to do next. Filled with confusion, he did what any other human would do: he broke out a bag of marshmallows and roasted them over Hagrid's smoldering corpse. Tears streamed down his face as he poked the lifeless body of his former companion to stoke the embers.

After satisfying his appetite, our young hero sprinted back into the school only to find more death, more destruction, and even more hungry platypi.

"Harry!" he heard a familiar voice shout from down the hallway. It was Hermione. She hurried to meet him. "Oh, good! I'm so relieved you're not dead. What's happened?"

"Hermione!" Harry stopped to catch his breath. "Thank God you're okay. The platypi," he started. "They...they got into the explosives."

"The school keeps explosives? That's not mentioned in Hogwarts: a History," she wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"Not the school, you stupid, bookish prat: Fred and George. They have a weird fascination with explosives -fireworks in particular-and they've been collecting since their first year." He paused. "If you weren't in the explosion where were you? Where's Ron?" he interrogated.

Hermione blushed, "Oh, we just went for a walk."

"You were snogging, weren't you?" Harry accused her.

"That is disgusting, why would you suggest such a thing?"

Harry dismissed the conversation, throwing his arms in the air. "I'm done. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Good, because it's absolutely untrue."

"He's not good at snogging, is he?"

"Harry, shut up, you have no right."

"I have every right, dammit. I'm Harry Potter, you wench. I'm 'the boy who lived!'" Harry looked as if he might burst a blood vessel in his forehead. "Hey, why isn't Ron here?"

"Oh, he's still in the infirmary. He won't be out for awhile. Ron's feeling quite under the weather. But that's utterly beside the point. We need to find Dumbledore."

Harry and Hermione set off to find their favorite wizard and see if he could put an end to the mayhem. Like always, Dumbledore was in his office with his stupid, creepy bird.

"Sir, you must do something about these platypi!" Harry urged the wise, old man. "They've eaten a baker's dozen of students and the explosion just killed more!"

Dumbledore turned to Harry and Hermione with a troubled face, "Yes, yes, Hogwart's has not seen such catastrophe since the plumbing became terribly backed up after a boy from Gryffindor had explosive diarrhea."

Hermione's face wrinkled up in total disgust as Harry went red and silent. Dumbledore paused in remembrance then continued.

"Not to worry about the platypus invasion, dear children. They will be gone and the school will return to normal soon," the Professor said with a calm gesture.

Harry was still concerned, "What is it they want?"

"Perhaps they want the usual on the menu: muggle world domination. Or maybe they want to destroy the wizarding world. It is also entirely possible that they want to make you into a delicious sandwich, Harry Potter."

Harry felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead and a chill run down his spine as Dumbledore rose from his chair and began walking towards him.

"Yes, Harry Potter...they always want Harry Potter."

And with that, Dumbledore tore off his robes and his head to reveal a salivating, ravenous platypus with a long white beard. Dumbledore- er...Dumbledore the platypus was clearly the chief, the leader, the big cheese, the head man-er platypus. Harry's eyes did not leave those of the demonic creature as it backed him into the corner.

"Hermione? I think we should get out of here..."

He turned to his friend but in her place another platypus, wearing the same dress Hermione wore stood next to him. (The blue dress clashed horribly with its magenta purple fur). Harry's eye twitched all crazy-style as he tried to comprehend the situation.

"You..." he pointed an accusing finger at the Hermione platypus. "You ate Ron!!"

"HOOONK!!!" the platypus agreed, rubbing its belly and licking its lips.

Harry grabbed a chair to ward off the hungry beasts. Fumbling for his wand, he raised it at the smaller one: "sparkle?" A bolt of lightening struck it. Stunned, the platypus fell to the ground, its wound smoking. Dumbledore the platypus, looked at his fallen companion, filled with murderous rage. It made eye contact with Harry as it unexpectedly levitated off the ground and into the air. Flapping its arms, the bearded platypus circled the room, all the while honking wildly about being Peter Pan and having its childhood dreams come true. It flew over Harry and landed on his head.

Harry staggered, the weight of fat platypus, overbearing. Covering Harry's eyes in a guess-who kind of way, the platypus began to thrash wildly, causing the boy lose his balance. Adding insult to injury, the platypus took to beating Harry with a rather pointy stick.

Harry cried out in pain and annoyance, "Okay, this is definitely not in my contract! My barrister will be hearing from me! This is getting really absurd. I mean, Professor Dumbledore- a platypus? Nobody's really gonna believe that. Who writes this garbage, anyway? It reminds me of that stupid film about the killer tomatoes. Isn't this story over yet?"

Throughout Harry's little monologue, the Dumbledore platypus got bored and went on a mad rampage eating everything in sight, including, but not limited to: the writers, Hermione, Fawkes: that stupid creepy bird, Lord Voldemort, Chris Columbus, a small herd of mooses, Barbara Walters, Jenny from the block, Tony Soprano, Pippi Longstocking, Prince Charles and his prat sons, an unusually obese cardinal, Destiny's Child, Blue and Magenta from Blue's Clues, Kathie Lee Gifford, Steven Spielberg, Ryan the soul eater, a drawer, Tony Blair, a trio of strippers (exotic dancers? No, strippers), Brittany Spears, Ginny Weasley, Waldo from "Where's Waldo?,"a case of butterbeers, Kid Rock, a candy-apple green Volkswagen, Bozo the Clown, that yappy sorting-hat, O.J. Simpson, all the band members of Phish, Anna's 'fro, the Easter bunny, a few Backstreet Boys (but he spit them out because they were too fruity), a cinderblock, Monica Lewinsky, Kenny G, Calvin (and Hobbes), Yanni, a rubber band, the Cookie Monster, Fred and George Weasley, the pizza delivery man (and the pizzas), P. Diddy, an empty bottle of Mylanta, Anna Nicole Smith, a handful of demon worshippers (they did not go down well), the Bachelor, a small house, the entire NBC Thursday cast lineup on their lunch break, Connie Chung, Santa Claus, a package of Koala Yummies, the Godfather, a crackwhore, a carton of apple juice, Regis Philbin (who asked him: "is that your final answer," before being eaten), yippy dogs across England, yo mama, an angry pack of wildebeests, Mini-Me, Salma Hayek, Sharon Stone and the komodo dragon that ate her husband's foot, a box of raisins, Peter Jackson, George and George W. Bush, Tommy Lee, a few cowboys, two plastic yo-yos, Professor McGonagall's hat (and presumably Professor McGonagall), Non-Flipper-friendly canned tuna , Flipper the dolphin and a fortune cookie (the fortune read: trouble awaits you. Don't eat hairy feet).

Wishing it had popped a few Tums back at Anna's 'fro, the platypus formerly known as Dumbledore, decided to polish off the rambling little boy, too. Taking out a sesame seed bun garnished with lettuce and tomato, the platypus tied a bib around its neck with a picture of a little boy with glasses on the front.

Resignedly, Harry accepted his fate. He began to remove articles of his clothing and rather ceremoniously, slathered low-fat mayonnaise on his face.

The platypus taking great offense to Harry's amateur porn and the spreading of condiments all over himself, recoiled in repulsion. Mortified at its previous impulse to eat such a disturbed child, and honking frantically, the platypus covered its eyes with its webbed hands, wobbling quickly from the room.

Harry shrugged and got dressed. Leaving Dumbledore's office, Harry was astounded by the extent of carnage and ruin all around. The halls were deathly silent: the platypi had deserted the grounds and left everything burned/ burning and dead/dying. It didn't take long for Harry to realize that indeed, he was the sole survivor of the platypus attack. Well, so much for Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft.

Harry packed up his belongings, taking the last of the Hedwig flavored jellybeans with him. As he began his long walk to the train platform of 9 and 3/4, our young hero wondered what the future held for him.

Going back to his muggle family was out of the question; but maybe the Weasleys would take him in since four of their children had been eaten. Yes, what a swell idea, why hadn't he thought of it before? Harry smiled at the prospect of his increasingly bright future. By the time he reached the train station, he had the next several years of his life all planned out:

Immediately, he would bring the idea to HBO of making the platypus invasion into a made-for-TV movie, which he would of course star in- as Hermione. From there he figured BBC would give him his own television sitcom, from which, he would make lots and lots of money. With the ungodly sum of cash, Harry would have his final revenge against the wizard who killed his folks. He would buy up all the stock in Lord Voldemort's gyros company, only to sell it all to the Ministry of Magic who would in turn shut the company down, putting an end to Voldemort's reign of terror for sheep and wizards alike. A few years down the line from that, Harry would quit his sitcom and focus on what he really wanted: a serious porn career. (he would start now, but it would be child porn and that's illegal almost everywhere)

Over the next year, Harry's TV career was taking off, and everything seemed to be just the way he'd planned it, but a fear always loomed in the back of his mind- something he hadn't counted on. No matter how much Hobbit weed he smoked, Harry couldn't shake the ominous feeling that he would soon have to stand and fight the evil platypi again. Only one question haunted him like a bad Casper, the Friendly Ghost animated series re-run: where did the platypi go, who would their next victims be and would he have to face them again? [(well, strictly speaking that's three questions...) oh, shut up, brain.]