Harry Potter and the Chocolate Factory

Chapter Seven

A Tiny Bit of a Problem

"So what's so faboo about the next room?" Harry demanded. "Does it have pork in it?"

"Pork?" Mr. Wonka wondered. "Pork? I'm not in the meat business."

Harry stopped abruptly and put his hands on his hips. "Do you mean to tell me that there's no pig whatsoever in this whole factory?"

"Why would there be?" replied Willy Wonka, who was simply incapable of comprehending Harry's outrage. "You can't put pig in chocolate -- "

"Yes you can!" replied Harry at once.

"Not in chocolate anyone would eat -- "

"I'd eat it!"

"I can hardly make candy bars for just one person now, can I?" asked Mr. Wonka logically. "That's bad business. I may look like a nummy-head, but I'm good with figures. So no pigs. Anyway, they're unsanitary creatures. Do you know how many times a day a pig craps?"

"No," answered Dumbledore, disturbingly intrigued. "How many?"

"Err, I forget, but I remember being really disgusted when I first read about it. Anyway, I don't want the Oompa-Loompas rebelling because I make them shovel two tons of pig poo per day." He pressed a button on the wall.

Harry was unmoved. "It would be worth it."

"No, it wouldn't.'

"Yes, it would."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would."

"No, it wouldn't."

The glass elevator began to move, gathering speed. Its walls were crystal-clear. Every detail of every room they passed through could be seen and appreciated. They glided over vast vistas of chocolate scenery and slid quietly through rooms containing mechanical wonders and confections of unparalleled genius.

Unfortunately, no one was appreciating the view. Every member of the group was wearing a glassy-eyed stare.

Except for two.

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would."

The elevator nearly crashed into a wall and shattered into a million shards, veering off at the very last second. Six of the passengers watched the wall recede with regret, thinking longingly of how pleasant a collision could have been.

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would."

They passed over a glade filled with dozens of Oompa-Loompas enjoying a picnic. Several of the little men waved, but even Lucius Malfoy could barely crack a smile.

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would."

Lupin slumped against the wall and was about to let out a howl of despair - he was quite certain that both Mr. Wonka and Harry had forgotten the point of the argument long ago - when the elevator came to a stop with a sickening jerk. Regurgitation was considered.

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would."

"Mr. Wonka," Lupin asked desperately, "are we there? I mean, have we arrived at the very special room you wanted to show us?"

"No, it - huh? Oh, yes." Mr. Wonka stepped out, swinging his walking stick, as cheerful as if he'd just been enjoying a cup of cocoa in front of the fire with an improving book. Lupin, Arthur, Petunia, Dumbledore, Lucius and Draco all staggered after him. Harry paused to lay a fart in the elevator so that the next person who rode in it would be stuck with the smell for their whole journey.

They were in another section of corridors, painted white from floor to ceiling. Mr. Wonka unlocked a door, revealing a room which was also glowingly, blindingly white. Mr. Wonka quickly passed out dark glasses with huge round lenses.

"Put these on before you damage your eyes," he told them. Lucius pulled a face at the sight of them.

"God! They're as absurd as Arthur Weasley's hat!" He quickly reconsidered. Arthur's hat was tilted at a rakish angle that gave him the appearance of having a pointed, squishy sack of meat on his head. "Well, not that bad, but. . . "

"You don't want to go blind, Pop." Draco cautioned him. "You'd never be able to watch that silly movie about the yellow road again."

"There is nothing at all silly about The Wizard of Oz! Oh, very well." Lucius grumbled, but, ceding the point, put on the glasses and began a fine sulk over his unfashionable appearance.

"Do you have a pair small enough for Ron?" asked Arthur, repositioning his hat.

"No."

"Good -- I mean, what a shame! Guess he'll have to stay in my pocket."

Glasses in place, they stepped into the room. Every surface was indeed very, very white, and sound echoed off the distant walls for a moment or two before fading, swallowed up by some cold, forbidding corner of the room. Most of the group instinctively lowered their voices, but Dumbledore began yodeling. Lupin spat on him and he abruptly vanished.

"Ancient Chinese technique for exorcisms," explained Lupin to the raised eyebrows.

"Unsanitary," complained Lucius, still in a strop over the glasses.

"Oooh! Oooh! Machine!" Arthur jumped up and down and pointed to a large, shining, tube-shaped implement that dominated the room. "Ooh! Ooh!"

"Looks like the world's largest telescope," said Petunia, frowning quizzically. "Or perhaps a giant laser gun."

"Oooh! Oooh! What's that?" Arthur danced a jig.

"You know what a telescope is," Lupin reminded him. "You took Astronomy like the rest of us."

"Oh, right." Crestfallen, Arthur examined the giant whatsit again. "What's a laser gun?"

"They don't actually exist," answered Petunia. "Well, except in films."

This made no sense to Arthur, so he blinked and opened his mouth to ask a really stupid question when Mr. Wonka interrupted. "It's not a laser gun exactly. It's my Wonkavision ray blaster. . . thingie. Huh. I've never really given it a proper name, now that I think about it." He frowned and toyed idly with his candy-filled cane. "It'll have to be something with 'Wonka' in it. All my great inventions are 'Wonka' something. That doesn't make me a wanker, does it?"

"Yes," answered Harry at once.

"But what does it do?" asked Lupin, giving Harry a kick.

"And why is it so faboo?" Harry demanded, evading Lupin's foot. "I don't think it's faboo at all. I think it rather bites."

"Shouldn't you wait and see what it does before condemning it?" said Lupin.

"Well, I know it doesn't have pig in it. That's a definite mark against it." His expression brightened. "Or maybe it makes women's knickers fall off? That would definitely be faboo!"

"Could you stop saying 'faboo'?" Draco demanded. "It's really queer."

"Well, you'd know, wouldn't you?"

"Shut up, Potter!"

"What does it do, Mr. Wonka?" asked Lupin diplomatically. "Something to do with chocolate, I hope."

"Ah!" cried Mr. Wonka in a tone that was supposed to be mysterious but came out rather fruity instead. "Just wait and watch, dear guests! You'll be astonished! You really will." He ululated, and at once a troop of twenty Oompa-Loompas - clad in white, of course - trooped in hefting the most enormous chocolate bar any of them had ever beheld. It could have been used for a mattress on a king-sized bed. Lupin immediately began salivating and muttering 'adore!' Lucius eyed the Oompa-Loompas greedily as they placed the bar on a raised circular dais. White was really quite a becoming color for them.

After the bar was arranged to his satisfaction, Mr. Wonka reached for a switch - slowly for dramatic effect, and then more quickly when he saw that Arthur was about to wet himself with excitement. There was a vibration and a low humming noise, then a glass jar was lowered from the ceiling to encase the huge chocolate bar, which then lifted gently into the air.

Harry burped moistly at about this point, but everyone ignored him.

There was a blinding flash of light and the bar disappeared. Lupin started to panic, but before he could get thoroughly into it, Mr. Wonka waved them to the other side of the room, where an Oompa-Loompa sat comfortably in an overstuffed white chair, watching television.

"Now, watch the screen," Mr. Wonka commanded, just barely holding back one of his nervous giggles. They gathered around, although truth be told, Lucius paid far more attention to the Oompa-Loompa than to the telly, where a tennis match was being played out.

"What are we waiting for?" asked Harry, after barely three seconds had elapsed. The room was still not quite 'faboo' in his opinion.

"That! That! We're waiting for that!" shrieked Mr. Wonka, nearly sticking his cane in Petunia's ear as he pointed with it.

On the screen, the tennis match had come to a confused halt as the net was replaced with a bar of Wonka chocolate. One of the little people stepped forward to poke at it curiously.

"Huh. Neat." Draco scratched his head. "I don't see the point."

"Take it," said Mr. Wonka, smiling.

"What, the telly?" asked Arthur, trembling with excitement.

"No, the chocolate, stupid!"

Lupin snatched the bar off the screen before anyone else could make a move. Then he dashed to the other side of the room and proceeded to devour it.

"It's perfect, isn't it?" called Mr. Wonka.

"Mrfr-ver-gdd-frarr," replied Lupin indistinctly.

Mr. Wonka turned back to his other guests. "It's for advertisement! You're sitting there, watching telly, and -- "

Harry, bored, picked up the remote control and switched through a few channels. Suddenly he let out a high-pitched squeal of delight and raced for the dais and the switch.

"What's he doing?" asked Lucius, distracted from his Oompa-Loompa.

"Probably going to put himself through the machine," commented Mr. Wonka, idly. "Someone usually does."

At these words, Arthur also made a beeline for the machine, but Lucius tripped him. There was no point anyway; Harry had already flipped the switch and was rising into the air.

"Will it work?" asked Draco, hoping for a 'no' answer.

"Yes, unless half of him gets lost along the way."

Everyone thought - very briefly - about Harry's arse running around without a head attached. "Ewww."

"It'll probably be all right. Watch the screen."

Everyone transferred their attention to the television screen. "Oh," said Draco.

"Figures," nodded Lucius.

"Typical," sniffed Petunia.

"What?" asked Lupin, wandering over as he licked chocolate off his fingers.

"Not a very good guardian, are you?" sneered Draco. "Potter's gone and jumped into the television machine."

(Here Arthur tried to dive into it himself again, and was once more prevented.) "Why did Harry do that?" asked Lupin, ignoring Arthur's shenanigans.

Draco pointed. Lupin looked. "Oh."

Mr. Wonka glanced from one to another. "I'm hugely confused. Why do you think the little pig-boy jumped into my Wonkavision machine?"

Everyone pointed at the screen. Mr. Wonka, for the first time, took a good look at the program. "Oh," he said, the light dawning.

On air at the moment was a cooking show. A plumpish woman with a tall white cap on her head was explaining to her viewers how to make roast port almondine. As they watched, a tiny figure in a red-and-white striped polo shirt manifested next to her spatula and at once flung itself onto the mound of roasted pig flesh.

"Our little group's getting smaller by the minute," commented Mr. Wonka.

Eyes were rolled.

"Sorry. Tradition."

* * * * *

Tonks was certain her cousin was responsible for whatever was causing the huge, ominous crashing and rumbling. So she was quite surprised when she skidded to a halt in a room filled with glass containers of multi-colored candy sprinkles -- several had fallen and smashed - to discover Sirius huddling in a corner while the floor shook. She quickly revised her opinion. If he'd been responsible, he would have been doing a dance of victory.

"What's going on?" Tonks demanded. "What's happening?" Sirius spread his hands and shrugged helplessly in reply. Kingsley had out his brass knuckles, a Glock, a machete, and a Bowie knife, but without an enemy in sight, the presence of the weapons provided no comfort.

Loud cracking sounds erupted beneath their feet. Everyone backed up a couple paces. Tonks stepped into the doorway, only to be nearly run down by Narcissa Malfoy, Severus Snape, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Fenrir Greyback who had just come charging up the corridor. A strange balloon was wafting over their heads, but Tonks was too disturbed by the rumblings to spare it more than a quick glance.

"What did you do?" Narcissa demanded at the sight of Sirius.

"It wasn't me!" Sirius protested.

"What are you doing here anyway, Black?" Snape asked, scowling at his old adversary.

"I could ask the same thing of you, you know!" Sirius glowered at the group of Death Eaters, Bellatrix especially - he had a perfectly justifiable grudge against the woman. She returned the look with a grin and farted. As if in response, the ground rumbled again and they all fought to keep their balance.

"The floor's splitting open!" called Voldemort from his vantage point. Sirius, Tonks, and Kingsley all did a double-take at the sight of the floating Dark Lord. "What?" he asked innocently.

"What happened to you?" asked Tonks. The floor shook again and she had to grab the doorframe for support. "Check that. Answer later."

They all dove for cover as the room trembled and danced. More jars fell off the walls and shattered. Multi-colored candy bits tumbled over the ground and the air became thick with crushed sugar.

There was an eardrum-damaging crack.

And then everything went silent and still.

Tonks cautiously poked her head up from behind the conveyor belt she'd taken refuge under - noting as she did so that big, brave Kingsley was still hiding in a mound of sugar. The crack in the floor Voldemort had alluded to was now over five feet wide and spread the entire length of the room.

"What the heck?" asked Tonks, getting carefully to her feet in case the shaking began again.

Voldemort was floating over the crevice. "There's something inside!" he called, backing up nervously. "Something big. Oh, poopie."

"Don't say 'oh, poopie' my lord," advised Snape, shaking candy bits out of his hair. "Bad for the image."

"Oh yeah, right. Sorry. Be a dear and kill whatever it is, will you, Severus?"

"I'd like to see what it is first."

"Yoh-url-urg-ull-mooh!"

The voice was deep and hoarse and low. It reverberated from the depths of the hole, as if welling up from Hell itself. Something large and hairy began slowly rising from the unseen depths.

"Oh, poopie! Oh, poopie! Oh - sorry! Oh, uh, flipperdinoodle!"

"That is no better, my Lord." Snape backed up against the wall and raised his wand, little good though it may have done him under the circumstances. The immense creature straightened as the last puffs of candy dust parted enough to allow them a good look at it.

"Och, me head!" With a whimper of pain, it sat down and put two shovel-sized hands to its temples.

"Hagrid?" asked several voices incredulously.

"Nye?" answered the huge buffoon, blinking stupidly.

"Move aside, you great lout!" snapped a second voice, and everyone who had started to relax at the appearance of the half-giant tensed again. They all recognized that voice too. It belonged to none other than Professor Minerva McGonegall, the most terrifying witch ever to teach Transfiguration at Hogwarts. Or any other class, for that matter. If she had been alive when the school was first founded, it is likely even Salazar Slytherin would have mended his ways. Voldemort's dark ambitions, not to mention his confidence, would have been crushed out of him had he ever been made to sit through one of her lessons on how to turn a newt into a nightgown.

"Can you kill her please, Severus?" the Dark Lord pleaded.

Snape just shook his head. Offing Dumbledore was one thing, making an attempt on McGonagall. . . something entirely different.

McGonagall clambered out of the hole and conked Sirius on the noggin, as a matter of principle. She glowered at Tonks, who, to her shame, giggled nervously and fidgeted. Then she stalked over to Kingsley and began tapping her foot, and the tall, muscular black man sheepishly handed over his weapons.

"So nice to see you, Minerva," said Narcissa, deciding diplomacy might alleviate the situation. McGonagall glared in response, an expression intimidating enough to cause Mad-Eye Moody to fidget and find excuses for being somewhere else. Narcissa nearly giggled and fidgeted too, but managed to stop herself in time.

"Why are you here with Hagrid?" Sirius asked, rubbing his head. McGonagall's blow had hurt even though he was dead. "I didn't know -- "

"Hey! Don't forget about me!" interrupted a new voice in a jovial tone.

"Or me!" cried a fourth voice, identical to the first. A general groan was stifled. These voices could only belong to Fred and George Weasley, the most inept practical jokesters ever produced by Hogwarts. Sure enough, a pair of flaming red heads popped out of the hole.

"It's a clown floor!" exclaimed Sirius. "People just keep popping up out of it."

"Shut up, Black," spat Snape. "What are you Weasleys doing here?"

"Looking for poo!" crowed Fred.

There was a brief moment of silence. George conferred with his twin.

"Oh," said Fred, "sorry. We want to see Willy Wonka."

"And how did you get that confused with the first thing?" Sirius asked, but Tonks gave him a good, hard elbow in the ribs.

"I didn't know you were all so fond of chocolate," she commented quickly, just in case Fred felt moved to reply.

McGonagall's eyes narrowed behind her square-framed spectacles. "I adore Chocolate Frogs."

Ah, yes. The confection that combined gluttony with cruelty to animals. It made perfect sense. "I don't think Willy Wonka makes Chocolate Frogs, dear," said Narcissa carefully.

"No. But I think he should get into the line of business." McGonagall's expression glowed with an unholy enthusiasm. Even the tight, puckered line of her mouth was straightening into something vaguely resembling a smile. "Cocoa Cats. Puppy Pops. Buttercrunch Budgies. Treacle Turtles. A whole line of lifelike animals made of candy! They can be your pets until you get bored of them. Then you can hit them over the head, eat them, and buy a new one! Peppermint Parrots! Meltaway Mice!"

"My stomach's doing flip-flops," Tonks muttered, holding her belly. The Death Eaters seemed to like the idea, however.

"Vanilla Vipers?" suggested Voldemort shyly.

"Toffee Toads," said Bellatrix.

"Good! Good! I prefer my food wriggling," nodded Greyback.

"The idea has merit," murmured Sirius. Tonks stomped on his toe and addressed herself to McGonagall. "So, you're going to approach Mr. Wonka with this idea?"

"That's right. He'd better give me a percentage too." She nodded severely. "I'm getting a little tired of teaching nasty, nose-picking children. I'd like to retire someday. Find a nice, quiet house in the country where I can raise animals and do some experiments."

Tonks turned to Hagrid before McGonagall could go into detail about her experiments. "And why are you here?"

"Nye?" Hagrid had to think a moment. "They needed me to tunnel in?"

"Is that why?" Sirius asked.

"Of course." McGonagall wrinkled her nose. "I didn't invite him along because I think he's cute."

"You don't think he's cute, do you?" Sirius asked. This time Narcissa beat Tonks to stepping on his foot.

"I'm a little more curious as to how you managed it," announced Snape, folding his arms about himself like a large bat. "Magic doesn't work well inside Mr. Wonka's factory, so I'm given to understand."

"No, it doesn't," agreed Fred, climbing clumsily out of the hole in the floor. "But if you set a small spell in motion before you go inside the factory, you can sneak it through the barrier."

Snape blinked and then set his jaw back in place. "That sounded far too intelligent for a Weasley," he muttered.

"I hit them when they're too stupid," said McGonagall. She thumped Hagrid on the back in demonstration, hard enough to momentarily cross the half-giant's eyes. "And if that doesn't work, I threaten to turn them into weasels and use them as test subjects."

Snape nodded. Even the Weasley twins weren't stupid enough to ignore that threat. "So you had them develop a method for sneaking into the factory. Clever, very clever." He could have kicked himself for not thinking of it. . . but then again, he didn't have McGonagall's method for dealing with the twins. "How did they manage it?"

"Bugs!" announced Fred proudly.

They waited, thinking that this was probably another one of Fred's confusions. But George grinned in proud agreement.

"Bugs?" asked Kingsley, when no other explanation was forthcoming.

"Bugs!" repeated Fred firmly. He held up a multi-legged, wriggling thing. Snape felt an immediate affection for it. "Orientipede!"

"Orientipede?" asked Tonks, staring at the crawly thing in revulsion.

"Oooh! Icky!" wailed Voldemort, floating back a couple feet.

George nodded. "Tells you where things are."

"How?"

"You break them in half," explained George, demonstrating. The process involved greenish slime and unpleasant crunchy sounds. Snape's sense of endearment increased. "Then the back end will try to find the front end and join up with it again."

"So you just stick the front end onto someone you want to track," Fred continued.

"And then follow the butt!" the twins chorused.

"And you bred these?" asked Narcissa in fascination.

"Out of poo!" said Fred proudly. George conferred with him again. "Oh. Actually we used doxie eggs and skrewt shells and niffler fur."

"And one or two secret ingredients as well!" added George.

"So what's with the poo thing?" asked Sirius, moving out of range of kicks and elbows.

"He probably just has to go potty," said McGonagall dismissively. "This whole expedition's excited them tremendously."

Here Bellatrix farted loudly, and the twins erupted in giggles. "Will you stop that?" Snape snarled at her. She flipped him off and took a long drink of frobscottle.

"So who'd you stick the bug's head on?" asked Tonks, checking her owns clothes to make sure they weren't trying to sneak one onto her. Just the sight of them made her flesh crawl.

"Ron, of course," said George, shrugging. "Felt he owed us anyway, for our putting up with him all these years."

"But the bug butt went funny a while ago," said Fred, "and we lost our bearing and ended up here instead of where Ron is." He brought it out and shook it. "Don't know why. Never happened before."

"Maybe the protections Mr. Wonka has set up are affecting it after all," said Snape, still looking at the orientipede and thinking he rather liked it - even if it was a Weasley product.

"Perhaps," agreed the twins. Then they fell to frolicking in the candy fragments.

"Anyway, what are you doing here?" McGonagall eyed the others beadily, ignoring the cavorting twins. "None of you found tickets, so far as I recall."

"I should have found a ticket!" whined Voldemort. "I'm the Dark Lord, dammit!" His vehemence brought up a hearty belch and he started to sag in the air. "Ooops!" He hastily applied himself to the fizzy lifting drink.

"Cool," commented Sirius, watching him rise into the air. "James and I could have had a lot of fun with that. We're here because we wanted to see Mr. Wonka too."

"Not going to steal my idea, are you?" demanded McGonagall, bristling.

"No, no, certainly not!" Tonks assured her, holding up her hands defensively. "It's just that Remus was getting to go, and -- "

"And what? Is there some sort of a rule where if you have it off with a werewolf you get to go to a chocolate factory?"

Fred and George chortled. Sirius and Kingsley sniggered. Greyback, who'd been nosing under an armpit, looked up blinking at the 'w' word. "Adore?" he offered tentatively.

Tonks's cheeks burned and she wished she were mad enough to slap McGonagall. "I just wanted to see the factory, all right? Just like the lot of you." She encompassed them all with a sweep of an arm. "And now that we're here, we're just standing around bickering, which is a rubbishy waste of time, isn't it?"

"The factory's more dangerous than you think," piped up Voldemort. "There were these little men, see! An' they were going to affect us with the orangutan flu! Yep!"

"Orangutan flu?" asked Kingsley, raising an eyebrow.

"Yep! Your bum gets fluffy and you smell!"

"Me bum's fluffy an' I smell," mentioned Hagrid hopefully. McGonagall socked him again.

"Orangutan flu," Tonks shook her head. "You really are a pack of nits."

Narcissa sniffed. "How should we know what sort of nasty diseases Muggles carry?"

"I think a magical ailment would be much more likely to make you stink and grow a hairy arse," said Sirius, who, being dead, didn't care one way or the other.

"I didn't want to take the chance," said Snape with dignity. "Voldemort's right. This place is more dangerous than it seems, and we can't use magic to protect ourselves. We should exit through this very convenient hole before something we can't handle comes down upon us."

His proposal met with silence, save for a small, stifled fart from Bellatrix.

Snape sighed. "You're not going to listen to me, are you?"

"I'm not afraid of little men!" proclaimed Kingsley.

"Or the orangutan flu!" added Sirius.

"I want to see the factory!" said Tonks, preparing a tantrum.

"Me too! Me too!" Voldemort spouted a few bubbles.

"Chocolate! Adore! Adore!"

"I am going to see Mr. Wonka, and that's final!" McGonagall glared.

"Nye?" Hagrid itched and looked stupid.

"Fred has to go potty first!" George announced brightly.

"Do not!"

Ballatrix ripped off another one.

Narcissa took Snape's arm. "Sorry, Severus. It seems you're outnumbered."

He looked into her face, thinking that if he could convince her to leave - and maybe take a couple orientipedes along as well - he'd happily exit the factory at once. But one glance told him that she was as mad for staying as the rest. And the twins had firm grips on their bugs.

He sighed. "Very well. I'll go along with this nonsense a while longer. But when something huge and vicious comes along and devours us, don't blame me if I can't keep from saying I told you so."

"Like that's going to happen," McGonagall sneered.

* * * * *

"That thing's five times the size he is," commented Mr. Wonka, watching in fascination as the enormous pork roast began vanishing down Harry's gullet at an astonishing rate.

"I'd say almost ten times," drawled Lucius.

"Maybe he'll eat until he bursts," said Draco hopefully.

Lupin shook his head. "I doubt it. Harry's a kind of black hole as far as pork is concerned."

The chef sprinkled a few slivered almonds over her roast, which dreadfully annoyed Harry. He shook a tiny fist at the towering woman before brushing the nuts contemptuously away and returning to his feast. He was very happy when she basted it with gravy, however - he paused for a moment to bask in the warm meat juices, as if enjoying a hot shower. Draco's lip curled.

"This is really disgusting. Can we change the channel? Or maybe just leave him here?"

"Oh, no! You all must be out of my factory by the end of the day!" Willy Wonka insisted, perhaps thinking of all the foulness that could be engendered by a six-inch Harry Potter hepped up on pig meat.

Dumbledore chose this moment to pop back into existence, looking very sulky indeed. "I'll have you sacked for that, Mr. Lupin."

"I quit three years ago. Plus you're dead and cannot sack anyone."

"You only quit because you knew you were going to get sacked."

Lupin just shrugged, for Dumbledore's accusation happened to be correct. "Sorry, Albus, but there's very little that you can do to hurt me these days. Aside from yodeling shrilly in an echoing chamber, that is. And if you start it up again, I'll spit on you," he added, as Dumbledore opened his mouth.

The old codger shut it and sulked and was about to demand a present when he caught sight of Harry on the television. "Oh, am I on yet?" he asked, reaching forward to turn up the volume. They were treated to the graphic sound of pork being torn off the bones and sloppily masticated by Harry's jaws. Dumbledore blinked. "I don't remember this scene."

"It isn't a film!" Draco turned the sound down again, but not before Harry let loose with a gusty belch.

"You missed a rather exciting few minutes," said Lucius. "You see if you put something on that platform there and zap it with that whatsit, you show up over here, only smaller."

Dumbledore contemplated this information gravely a moment. "I didn't understand a word you said," he announced at last.

"Harry's gotten small and is eating a pork roast," Lupin translated.

"Partially because you're a lousy guardian," Draco told him.

Lupin just shrugged again. "I don't get paid enough to be a good guardian to Harry. Conceivably, there's not enough money in the world for that."

"Well, I'm bored with this place," whined Dumbledore, glancing around. "Since you won't let me yodel. And I don't look good in white. Makes me look fat."

"You are fat at the moment," Petunia reminded him. Dumbledore still hadn't worked off all his chocolate blubber.

Dumbledore puckered up and wailed. It was no more pleasant than his yodeling. Lupin cleared his throat threateningly and the geezer dribbled off to a few sulky whimpers.

"Harry's going to be fat too," said Arthur, watching the set in fascination. Nearly a full third of the roast had been devoured already.

"And now we'll take a break," beamed the chef, facing her audience. There was a burst of cheery music as the scene cut away to a commercial. Harry screamed in outrage at being so suddenly deprived of his pork dinner. Infuriated, he pulled the ears of poor Larry the basset hound, who just wanted a handful of Snappin' Livah Treats.

"How does this work?" asked Lucius. "I mean, aren't all those people just pictures? How can Harry eat the roast and pull the dog's ears?"

"I don't know," answer Mr. Wonka, pouring candy from his walking stick into his palm and sorting the red from the yellow. "It works for my chocolate, and that's all I care about."

"I'm sure Hermione would have had many colorful things to say about it if she hadn't been elected queen bee," murmured Lupin. He fancied he heard a snigger from Mr. Wonka, but perhaps the candy-maker had merely gotten a sweet caught in his throat.

Harry was drowning in someone's diet soda. It looked, for a moment, like the young woman who swept up the glass might drink him, but fortunately she inserted a straw, which Harry was able to climb like a lifeline.

"Not fair, not fair, not fair!" he shrieked. "What happened to my pig?"

He was flicked off the straw and went flying, only to land safely on a pile of thick, spongy nappies. An enormous baby's bum descended and he quickly rolled out of the way before it squashed him.

"Is it wrong that I'm enjoying this?" asked Draco.

"Oh, yes!"

"Someone ought to reach in and pull him out," advised Mr. Wonka, cheeks bulging with candy.

No one moved.

"He's your ward, Lupin," said the still cranky Dumbledore.

"Yes, well. . . " Lupin tried to think up an excuse. "I'd probably drop him. I get the tremors sometimes." He made himself look as frail and sickly as he knew how, and it was a good act, but no one bought it.

"Who cares if you drop him anyway?" sneered Draco.

"Err. . . We could switch off the set?" asked Lupin hopefully. "And then maybe he'll just vanish?"

"Then who will defeat You-Know-Who?" asked Arthur in alarm. "We need Harry!"

"Slugworth?" inquired Mr. Wonka, interest sharpening. "He's going to defeat Slugworth?"

He received a round of blank stares.

"Well, that's who I mean when I say You-Know-Who. I don't know who you're talking about."

"Voldemort," answered Lupin, watching the screen. The cooking program was back on again and Harry burrowed like a maggot into the center of his beloved pork roast. "I'm not digging him out of there."

"Voldemort, Voldemort." Mr. Wonka tapped his chin, oblivious to the shudders that were running down the spines of his tourists. "Voldemort. Hmm. I'm sure I've heard that name before somewhere."

"He's the most evil wizard alive," Lucius informed him.

"No, that's not it." Mr. Wonka tossed that explanation aside. "It's not like I read Evil Wizards Monthly or anything. I just know I've heard the name Voldemort before. Hmm, Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort. . . "

"Will you please stop saying that name?" begged Arthur, teeth chattering.

Mr. Wonka raised his eyebrows. "I was just thinking it would be a lovely name for one of my news chocolate bars. Something very sinfully dark and rich. The Voldemort Bar. Has a ring to it, don't you think?"

"Something sweet and light and whipply would be more appropriate," drawled Lucius.

"With a hole in the center," murmured Draco.

"We do not talk about the blowhole, son."

Harry emerged from the other end of the roast, gasping for breath, but very happy. His face was shiny with grease. "What would happen if you switched off the set?" inquired Lupin. "Would Harry disappear?"

"I don't know," answered Mr. Wonka. "I've never switched it off when there was a chocolate bar on the screen because if it did disappear it would be dreadful waste."

Lupin had to concur.

"Well, here's the perfect opportunity to experiment." Draco swiped the controller from the Oompa-Loompa's hand and pressed the 'off' button.

The picture vanished. Harry popped out of the screen and fell to the floor. "Bah!" shrieked the miniscule lad in an eardrum-shattering pitch. Completely enraged, he attacked Lupin's shoes.

"I didn't do it!" exclaimed Lupin shaking him off. Harry hit the ground with a squishy, moist sound, but bounced up again like a rubber ball and threw himself at his Aunt Petunia's leg, teeth bared.

"Ouch!" She shook her leg, but Harry clung like a leech. He also paused briefly in his mauling to leer up her skirt. "Pervert!" Petunia shouted, slapping his off. He sailed into Dumbledore's beard and become hopelessly entangled.

"Bah! Bah! Bah!" he screeched, struggling and only becoming more and more thoroughly enmeshed in hair.

"Oh, pull him out!" Dumbledore begged. "He's nasty!"

Draco was laughing so hard tears leaked down his cheeks. Lucius took the remote controller from his hand and gave it back to the Oompa-Loompa, who immediately switched the telly back on, looking quite miffed.

"Sorry about all this," apologized Lucius. "By the way, your name wouldn't be Herbie, would it?"

The pork roast was back on the screen. Harry flung himself at it and nearly squashed himself against the glass. "Put me back in, put me back in!" he screamed.

"Oh, do be quiet," begged Lupin. "Your voice goes right through me. Right." He took out his wand, but Mr. Wonka put a cautionary hand on his arm.

"Magic doesn't work in the factory."

"No? But we have to do something about Harry."

Willy Wonka shrugged. "We could put him in the taffy pulling machine. He'll get very long and skinny, but -- "

"No, he's wormy enough already. I'd prefer to use an enlarging charm. I mean, I suppose it can wait until we leave, but that shrill little voice of his. . . it's horrible."

"Oh, I can fix that." Willy Wonka rummaged in his pocket and came out with a bright orange sweet. "Have him lick this a couple times and it'll deepen his voice."

"Really." Lupin took the candy and stared at it, bemused. "What are they for?"

"I'm not sure yet. I originally intended to sell them as a prank candy, but they might come in handy for singers with dry throats."

"What about soprano singers?"

"The audience will be really impressed with their range!"

Sighing and not entirely convinced, Lupin bent over and proffered the sweet to tiny Harry. "Here, lick this."

"Does it taste like pig?" Harry squeaked.

Lupin highly doubted it, but. . . "Just lick it and see."

Harry pouted, but finally stuck out his tongue. He wasn't one to resist licking objects for very long in any case. "It doesn't. . . taste like. . . pig. . . at all!"

Lupin developed a fit of the giggles as Harry's voice dropped a couple octaves. It was still very tiny and extremely whiny however, so he sounded more than anything else like Eric Idle doing an impersonation of a man pretending to be a woman.

"That's an improvement, isn't it?" said Mr. Wonka cheerfully.

"Well. . . "

"Potent stuff," remarked Petunia, thinking of the hundreds of nasty headaches she'd endured over the years on account of Harry's shrill voice and wishing she had had some on hand during his childhood.

"Would it give me a really butch, manly voice?" asked Dumbledore with great interest. "I've always wanted one of those."

"I want more pig," said Harry, his enunciation slow and careful and very, very silly. Everyone snickered and he kicked a few more insteps. "It's not funny!"

"You're pathetic, Potter." Draco measured size with his eye. "And ever so squishable right now. If only I wasn't wearing my favorite boots. . . "

The door of the Television Room suddenly opened to admit an Oompa-Loompa clothed in black. He marched straight up to Willy Wonka and tugged on his trousers. Willy Wonka bent over. Lucius watched wistfully as the little man whispered in the great candy-maker's ear. "God, they're brilliant. And I bet they're far more reliable than house elves too." Draco shushed him. There was quite a serious look on Mr. Wonka's face.

"Oh, dear," murmured Wonka. "Really?" The Oompa-Loompa nodded and whispered some more. Willy Wonka straightened, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his glove with a creaky, rubbery sound.

"What's the problem?" asked Lupin.

"I've been informed that there are intruders on the premises. Armed and dangerous intruders. Oh, dear. Such a nuisance."

"Nuisance? Aren't you worried?"

"No. Yes. Well, it's happened before. Someone tried to kidnap me in exchange for a ton of milk chocolate, nougat and peanut bars. Or was it the milky caramel and pecan bars? I can't remember. Hmm. . . " He began to stride away.

"What are you going to do?" asked Arthur, anxiously following after and hoping the reply would have something to do with machinery, possibly robots. Arthur had heard that robots were mechanical people, and he was even more desperate to meet one than Lucius was to acquire an Oompa-Loompa.

"Release the Vermicious Knids, I reckon," replied Mr. Wonka with a shrug. "That usually works. We'll have to barricade ourselves in my office for a while, of course."

"Of course?"

"They'll eat us otherwise."

"Hold on." Lupin stopped in his tracks. "You're sending out something to eat the intruders?"

"Well, they have no right to be here, do they?" answered Mr. Wonka logically. "They might be nasty spies, trying to steal my chocolate-making secrets."

"He's got a point," said Lucius shrugging.

"You don't care?"

"As long as the Oompa-Loompas are safe, no."

"They'll all go to safety zones as soon as I sound the alarm," Mr. Wonka assured him.

"That's fine then." Lucius gave his cane a jaunty swing.

"I just don't think I can condone the murder of several people, even if they are candy spies."

"You're welcome to stay out and warn them if you wish," called Mr. Wonka over his shoulder.

"Er. . . what are Vermicious Knids like?"

"Oh, blackish, ravenous, shape-shifting bugaboos with lots of teeth."

"I'll come into the office."