Harry Flat And The Order of the Parrot.

   “Ouch, ouch, Arnie, scar, hurting. Lord Dtmaster, near know he is.”

   He was sleep-talking. He was called Harry Flat and he was 12 years old, and sleeping on his four poster bed in his school dormitory.

    “Harry wake up, wake up.”

    It was Arnie, Harry’s best friend, shaking Harry violently to wake him up from his dream.

     “Harry wake up!!”

     “Wuh, oh, it’s you.”

     “What do you mean it’s me? You were having another dream weren’t you?”

     “Yeah, but it wasn’t as bad as the last one.”

     “Umm, well better get back to sleep, we don’t want to fall asleep in tomorrow’s potion class.”

      The boys went back to sleep. Whilst they are sleeping and I don’t have to document every waking moment, I tell you the background.

      It all started 4 and a bit years ago. Harry lived with his Aunt Impedimenta, his Uncle Unhygenix, and their son Wayne. But four years ago crows wouldn’t leave him alone they would drop letters through the letter box for him, and when Uncle Unhygenix wouldn’t let him read them, they dropped them down the chimney for Harry. When that method proved fruitless the crows went for all out dombardment. The chimney, car, porch and ever nook and cranny that could have something fitted through did have something put through. Harry eventually did find a letter and opened it.

  Dear Mr Flat,

                You will be expected to attend Woodwarts School for Wizards and Witches. You’ll be required to have the following items.

        Cauldron

        Pointy Hat

        A magical pet i.e.Crow, lobster, bat..

       A wand

 I look forward to seeing you on the 7^th September. The train leaves at 5.00pm from Waterloo station, platform 3 and a half.

      Best Wishes

                    Headmaster

                        Alistair Dumbandbore.

    What did this mean? Harry promptly found out, when in a puff of smoke a giant figure of a man appeared. The man was called Holy, and the rest as they say, is history….

     In the morning, Harry woke to his parrot, Jim, squawking for a cracker.

     “Eeeek, eeek, Jim want a crakaaaa.”

     “All right, all right. Keep it down a bit would you. We don’t want to wake the others up?”

       He fed Jim a cracker and  started to dress. He hated putting on his contact lenses, they were so fiddly, but he had got better at it.

       He ran downstairs to Breakfast and found Arnie there, slapping butter onto a crispy croissant .

       “Why didn’t you wake me?” asked Harry.

       “Well, I thought that you needed your sleep, after one of those restless nights of yours. We don’t want you falling asleep in potions again.”

        Unfortunately it was true. Harry did indeed fall asleep in potions, much to the displeasure of Professor Crape, the potions teacher. Professor Crape was head of the Slimygrins house,  Beastbore’s arch rival in the bid for the house cup, and he never passed over an opportunity to humiliate Harry, or Arnie for that matter.

         Down in the dungeons the boys were gathering for their potion lesson.

         “Hey Flat,” shouted Marco Dragonfly, a Slimygrin, “I hear your parrot has been entered into another muggle pet show!”

           Hoots of laughter sprang up from the Slimygrins, whom the Beastbores shared Potions with. It was a common joke that Jim wasn’t magical and wasn’t anything in comparison to Dargonfly’s owl Wighed. Wighed, to Harry’s dismay was a fantastically beautiful creature, and could deliver a message to London in an hour (that was very quick by the way).

           Before Harry could reply to the Slimygrin head wise-crack maker, Professor Crape strode in, casting his wand down onto his desk.

           “Today”, he said, “we are going to make an invisibility potion. You will need the following ingredients:

    Tounge of Next x2

  Toe of Frog x2

   Etc…

   The list seemed endless, and much to Harry’s dismay even the class dimwit, Ryan Shortass had started brewing the potion. Harry started, but after a while he wandered if his mixture was really meant to be purple froth, as opposed to the rest of the classes green smooth mixture. In fact he was even more sure that he had got it wrong when it exploded all over his arms and face and resulted in boils.

   “Flat!” spat Professor Crape, “must you always be so useless? Get yourself up to Miss Catrain now.”

     Harry went, he actually didn’t mind going to the Medicine Cupboard as it got him out of Potions. Besides a lot worse had happened to him, like when he had his head partially bitten off in his first year by a hypocrite and in his tbird, when as he battled the giant mathshomework monster he was unfortunate enough to lost a leg. But Miss Catrain had soon sorted it out with a quick potion.

       “Hi Miss Catrain,” said Harry as he strolled in through the door of the Medicine Cupboard (it wasn’t really a cupboard, but it was known as that).

          “Harry, again? What do you do in your lessons?” came the reply.

            But as Harry was about to answer, a noise of wing flapping reached his ears and as he looked through the window he could see Jim, his left wing sagging. Jim was carrying a note, and as he got through the window he dropped it.

            But Harry was too concerned to notice the note. He was only interested in the safety of Jim.

             “Jim, are you okay.” Cried Harry. “Miss Catrain, what can we do.”

              “Well, I can fix it. But it may take time.”

               “As long as Jim’s okay.”

             Harry left Jim in the care of Miss Catrain, and decided to go and visit Holy. He hummed to himself as he went down to Holy’s hovel, as he reflected over the day. Jim had given him a fright, he just hoped he was going to be okay.

                        “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”, screamed Harry as something hard hit him. 

          But what hit him wasn’t something normal. Was it a bird? No! Was it a plane? No! Of course it was Superman, but no it wasn’t. It was the one, the only Lord Dtmaster.

          To Be Continued………

   Well folks, we hope the author has satisfied you with the 5^th book in his series. The book Harry Flat and The Order of The Parrot is available in hardback and paperback at the Woodcote Waffle shop in Timbuktu. If you would like to hear more of Harry’s adventures are hotlines are open right now so give us a call on 01276 472115.