Henry clung to the side of the flying bathtub with all the strength he could muster, his knuckles white as they gripped the slippery porcelain. Beside him, Jonah was doing much the same, except his face had turned a shade of green that suggested he was one particularly violent jolt away from throwing up.
The bathtub, naturally, was not behaving like a broomstick, or even a reasonable flying object. It was bouncing through the air like a rubber ball on a windy day, making peculiar squeaking noises every few seconds as though it had become sentient and was protesting its own existence. Bubbles poured out of the faucet in steady streams, leaving a trail behind them, and the entire contraption occasionally let out a groan of effort as if it was carrying twice its weight.
"Norbert," Henry gasped, clutching tighter to the rim as the tub dipped dangerously low, "are you sure this thing is safe?"
Norbert, seated comfortably at the front of the tub with his hands on the bathtub's brass taps as if they were steering wheels, grinned back at him. "Oh, aye, perfectly safe, Henry! She flies like a dream once ye get used to her. Built 'er meself!"
Henry exchanged a glance with Jonah, who looked like he might faint any second.
"This isn't flying," Jonah mumbled through gritted teeth. "This is falling... slowly."
As if to emphasize Jonah's point, the bathtub suddenly lurched sideways, sending them careening toward a flock of geese. The birds scattered in panic, honking loudly as the tub swooped too close for comfort, nearly clipping their feathers. Henry and Jonah ducked instinctively, while Norbert laughed heartily from the front.
"Watch the geese!" Henry shouted, as the tub made another precarious wobble in the sky.
"Ah, they'll be fine!" Norbert called back, pulling on the taps to try and straighten their course. "Just a wee bit o' turbulence!"
The bathtub sputtered and jerked forward, bubbling furiously from the faucet as it dipped up and down like a seesaw. In the distance, Henry could make out the towering silhouette of Wibberflop Academy, its crooked turrets and swirling towers coming into view. The castle seemed to loom larger and larger as they approached, though it was hard to focus on the sight when the bathtub kept shaking violently.
"Almost there!" Norbert hollered cheerfully, as if they were on a pleasant Sunday drive instead of riding a flying disaster.
But just as Henry thought they might be in the clear, the bathtub gave one final sputter, let out an ominous clunk, and began plummeting toward the ground.
"Norbert!" Henry yelled, his heart jumping into his throat. "Do something!"
Norbert yanked at the taps, but nothing happened. The ground was rushing up fast now, and Henry could see the Quidditch pitch below them, the goalposts like giant toothpicks.
"Hang on, boys!" Norbert shouted. "We're goin' in!"
With a bone-rattling thud, the flying bathtub crash-landed into a large stack of hay bales just off the Quidditch pitch, sending hay and bubbles flying in all directions. Henry was thrown forward, his face smushed into a surprisingly soft pile of hay, while Jonah landed somewhere to his right with a groan.
Norbert, of course, was perfectly fine. He clambered out of the tub with a grin, brushing hay off his clothes. "See? Smooth as butter!"
Henry spat out a piece of hay, his hair sticking out at odd angles. "That's... smooth?"
"Landed right on target, didn't we?" Norbert said proudly, as if their near-death experience had been part of the plan. He gave the bathtub a loving pat on its side, which was now leaking a slow stream of bubbles from the handle. "She's a beauty, ain't she?"
Jonah groaned, rolling out of the haystack and onto the grass, looking distinctly worse for wear. "Next time... can we just take the train?"
Norbert waved off their complaints, pulling a stray piece of hay from his beard. "Where's the fun in that, eh? Always good ter try somethin' new!"
Henry shook his head, but deep down he had to admit that Norbert's madcap schemes were always entertaining, if terrifying. He glanced around at the Quidditch pitch, breathing a sigh of relief to see that no one had witnessed their crash landing. The last thing he needed was for Edgar Slickjaw to see him tumbling out of a flying bathtub.
The distant sound of the Wibberflop Express pulling into the station reached his ears, and Henry turned to Norbert. "You know, the train gets us here just fine every year."
"Aye, but it's not half as fun," Norbert said with a wink. "Come on, boys, let's get ye up to the castle. Feels good to be back, eh?"
As Henry and Jonah followed Norbert toward the castle, shaking hay out of their clothes, Henry couldn't help but smile. Ridiculous though the journey had been, it felt good to be heading back to Wibberflop, his second home.
The closer they got to the castle, the more familiar faces they saw. Students were making their way toward the grand entrance, chatting excitedly about their summer holidays, dragging trunks behind them, and generally causing the kind of organized chaos that only a new school year could bring.
Just as Henry spotted the tall, wooden doors of the entrance hall, he heard a familiar voice call out from behind them. "Henry! Jonah!"
Henry turned, grinning when he saw Katherine Jackson bounding toward them. She looked the same as ever, her curly hair bouncing wildly as she ran, her wizarding robes slightly too large for her lanky frame. But it wasn't her hair or her clothes that made her stand out. It was the small, uncontrollable quack that escaped her mouth as she tried to greet them.
"Henry! Jonah! Quack!" She slapped her hands over her mouth, flushing red. "Ugh, I thought this stupid curse was supposed to wear off over the summer!"
Henry laughed, hugging her. "Still stuck with the quack, then?"
Katherine sighed dramatically. "Apparently! The curse is supposed to fade over time, but I swear, the more I think about it, the more I quack."
Jonah chuckled. "Could be worse, you could be doing the chicken dance."
"Don't jinx it," Katherine warned, giving him a playful shove. "So, how was your summer? Did Henry almost get killed by another sock?"
Henry groaned. "Let's just say the sock hasn't given up yet. And Jonah's family tried to visit me by popping out of my fridge."
Katherine burst out laughing. "What? They floored through your fridge?"
"It's a long story," Henry muttered, shaking his head. "But it's good to be back. I missed this place... sort of."
Katherine's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well, I hope you're ready. There's been some... interesting rumors floating around the castle. Something about a Silly Walk curse."
Henry raised an eyebrow. "Wait, what? You're serious?"
Katherine nodded. "Completely. I've already seen a couple of students doing some weird walking patterns, like they're being forced to move without meaning to. It's kind of creepy."
Jonah frowned. "I thought the Silly Walk curse was just an old Wibberflop legend."
"I thought so too," Katherine said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "But this year... something feels different."
Henry glanced around at the students filing into the castle, the buzz of excitement mingling with an undercurrent of unease. For a moment, he felt a strange chill, though it was quickly brushed aside by the sight of a boy, probably a first-year, sliding past them in a perfect moonwalk, his eyes wide with terror as he moved backward without control.
The trio watched in stunned silence as the boy disappeared around a corner, still moonwalking.
"Well," Jonah said after a long pause, "that was... different."
Katherine quacked again. "Told you. The curse is real."
Henry swallowed. "Looks like this year's going to be even stranger than the last."
Just as Henry, Jonah, and Katherine approached the towering doors of Wibberflop Academy, a familiar voice rang out behind them, dripping with smugness and malice.
"Well, well, if it isn't the Blunder trio, back for another year of mediocrity."
Henry groaned inwardly and turned to see none other than Edgar Slickjaw, flanked by his two cronies, Biff and Cyril. Edgar, as always, looked impeccably dressed in brand-new wizarding robes, his hair slicked back with what could only be an excessive amount of magical hair gel. In one hand, he held a large lollipop that he was twirling with far too much flair, as though it were an important magical artifact rather than a sugary snack.
"Oh, look," Edgar continued, his voice carrying that unmistakable sneer. "You've brought the walking duck and... whatever Jonah is supposed to be." He snickered as his cronies, predictably, laughed on cue.
Katherine's face flushed bright red, and she instinctively clamped her hand over her mouth to stop another quack from escaping. Jonah just rolled his eyes.
"Nice lollipop, Edgar," Henry said, crossing his arms. "Did your daddy buy you that too?"
Edgar narrowed his eyes, but the smirk remained on his face. "Jealous, Blunder? Not everyone can afford the finest enchanted candies, you know. My father's candy shop supplies all of the highest magical circles. The finest in the wizarding world." He twirled the lollipop again, as if showing off a priceless wand.
"Yeah, well, good luck with that," Henry said, not wanting to waste any more time on Edgar's nonsense.
Edgar took a step closer, his tone dripping with false sincerity. "You should watch your back this year, Blunder. Quackers House may have been a laughingstock last year, but this year? Well, we'll see who's laughing when I, "
Before Edgar could finish his threat, an extremely loud, involuntary quack erupted from Katherine's mouth, echoing across the courtyard. Edgar jumped in surprise, his lollipop slipping from his fingers and landing with a plop into a nearby puddle.
Biff and Cyril immediately fell into fits of laughter, but Edgar looked livid, his face turning as red as his candy.
"You'll pay for that, Blunder," Edgar hissed, his eyes narrowed to slits. "You and your stupid friends."
With that, he spun on his heel and stormed off, dragging Biff and Cyril with him, though not before they shot Henry and the others one last look of disdain.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Jonah snorted. "Did you see his face when he dropped his lollipop?"
Henry chuckled. "I thought he was going to explode."
Katherine, still flushed from the embarrassment of her quacking, managed a weak smile. "Well, at least we know Edgar hasn't changed."
The narrator chimed in dryly: "Indeed, Edgar Slickjaw remained as intolerable as ever. A boy whose arrogance could fill the entire Great Hall and still have enough left over to ruin breakfast for the rest of the school."
With Edgar out of sight, the trio made their way into the castle, still laughing about the lollipop incident.
The moment Henry stepped through the castle's massive entrance doors, he felt that familiar, overwhelming sense of awe. Wibberflop Academy may have been absurd in many ways, but there was something about the castle's grand architecture that made Henry feel like he was walking into a place full of magic and mystery.
The entrance hall was as busy as ever, with students rushing back and forth, greeting old friends and dragging their trunks toward their respective houses. Candles floated lazily above them, casting a warm glow over the entire hall, and the grand staircase spiraled upward in a way that always seemed to defy logic.
"Home sweet home," Jonah said with a grin as they made their way toward the Great Hall.
Henry nodded, though a part of him couldn't shake the feeling that something was different this year. Maybe it was the strange rumors about the Silly Walk curse or the way some of the students seemed to be moving about the hall in oddly stilted steps. Either way, it didn't feel quite as welcoming as it had last year.
As they entered the Great Hall, the familiar floating candles and enchanted ceiling greeted them, the sky above the hall mimicking the starry night outside. Long tables stretched from one end of the hall to the other, and the various house banners fluttered in the air, though the Quackers House banner, a large, rubber duck, looked slightly less impressive after the disastrous results of last year's House Cup.
Jonah winced as they took their seats at the Quackers House table. "Still getting used to that duck."
"At least it's cute," Katherine offered, taking her seat across from him.
"Cute isn't going to win us the House Cup," Henry said, eyeing the banner. "We need some serious points if we're going to make up for last year."
Jonah laughed. "Well, at least we can't go below negative points this year."
Henry sighed, rubbing his face. "Let's hope not."
The other houses were already bustling with excitement. Over at Slickjaw's table, Edgar was sitting with an air of superiority, recounting a tale to his cronies about how his father had recently discovered a new magical candy that supposedly could grant temporary invisibility. The other houses, particularly House Puffdoodle and the mischievous students from House Topsy-Turvy, were laughing and swapping stories about their summers.
At the head table, Professor Flufflebumps sat proudly, his crooked hat tilted slightly to the left, looking as though he was completely in his own world. Henry noted that, as usual, Flufflebumps seemed blissfully unaware of the general chaos in the hall.
The narrator chimed in: "And there, at the heart of Wibberflop's absurdity, sat Professor Flufflebumps, headmaster, visionary, and, quite possibly, a man who had never spoken a coherent sentence in his life. How he maintained his position remained a mystery to all."
After what felt like an eternity of students settling down, the hall slowly quieted as Professor Flufflebumps rose to his feet, signaling the start of the welcoming feast. His robes shimmered in the candlelight, and his hat, which appeared to be wobbling for reasons no one could explain, seemed on the verge of falling off his head entirely.
Flufflebumps raised his arms in a grand gesture. "Welcome, students, to another year at Wibberflop Academy!" he declared, his voice somehow managing to be both grand and absurd at the same time. "As we embark on this wondrous journey together, I must remind you all of the importance of friendship!"
Henry could almost hear the collective groan from the students. They all knew what was coming next. Flufflebumps' speeches were legendary, not because they were inspiring, but because they rarely, if ever, made sense.
"Friendship," Flufflebumps continued, "is like a well-cooked stew. Full of flavor, yes, but if you forget the carrots, oh, the carrots!, then you'll never get the right balance of wisdom and warmth. Much like... ducks."
The hall fell into stunned silence.
"Ducks?" Jonah whispered, barely containing a snort of laughter.
"Yes, ducks," Flufflebumps said, as if the mention of ducks was the most obvious thing in the world. "And let us not forget the spoons. One must always carry a spoon for unexpected soup. Remember this, children, for life is full of unexpected soup."
The narrator chimed in with a resigned tone: "And so, once again, Professor Flufflebumps had managed to turn what should have been a simple welcome into a baffling metaphor that left students questioning not only his sanity, but also their own understanding of the world."
As Flufflebumps continued his rambling speech, moving from ducks and spoons to the nature of magical breakfast cereals, Henry leaned over to Jonah and Katherine.
"Do you think he writes these speeches, or does he just make them up on the spot?" Henry whispered.
"I'm pretty sure he makes it up as he goes along," Katherine replied, stifling a giggle.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of nonsensical rambling, Flufflebumps ended his speech with a grand flourish and sat down, looking extremely pleased with himself. The students, still confused, began to dig into their dinner, grateful for the distraction of food.
But Henry couldn't shake the strange feeling that had settled over the hall. Something wasn't right this year. The Silly Walk curse, Edgar's threats, the rumors swirling in the air, it all pointed to trouble.
And if there was one thing Henry Blunder had learned from his first year at Wibberflop, it was that trouble was never far behind.
Here is the rest of Chapter 2 of "Henry Blunder and the Chamber of Silly Walks":
The feast in the Great Hall carried on as it always did, students laughing, the clinking of cutlery, the clatter of dishes being refilled by the house elves, but there was an undercurrent of tension this year that Henry couldn't quite put his finger on. It was something in the air, something that made the usual chaos of Wibberflop feel slightly more sinister.
As Henry spooned some mashed potatoes onto his plate, he caught bits of conversation from the other tables. Students were whispering about strange occurrences, hushed tones carrying ominous words: cursed walks, strange footsteps, students found wandering the halls at night.
Jonah was busy helping himself to a mountain of roast chicken, blissfully unaware of the whispers, while Katherine was fighting a losing battle with her quacking, trying desperately to keep her mouth shut between bites.
Henry leaned over to Jonah, keeping his voice low. "Do you hear what they're saying?"
Jonah paused, looking up from his food with a chicken leg halfway to his mouth. "What?"
"The curse," Henry said, glancing around. "It's not just rumors. People are talking about it like it's already happening."
Jonah lowered the chicken leg and frowned. "You think it's real?"
Before Henry could respond, a loud scraping sound came from the far end of the Great Hall. All heads turned to see a second-year student from House Puffdoodle, his face pale, his legs moving stiffly beneath him as if controlled by an unseen force. The boy's feet scraped along the floor in a strange, jerky motion, his arms flailing uselessly at his sides.
He was, without a doubt, performing the most awkward version of the Charleston Henry had ever seen.
The entire hall fell into silence as the boy, eyes wide with confusion, staggered and shuffled his way past the tables, trying desperately to stop himself. His movements were completely unnatural, his legs twisting and jerking as though they belonged to someone else.
Katherine quacked involuntarily. "That... that's the curse!"
Henry's stomach dropped as he watched the boy disappear through the door at the end of the hall, still helplessly Charleston-ing out of sight.
Jonah's voice was barely above a whisper. "I thought it was just a legend."
"Well, it's not," Katherine said, her face pale. "That's the third one I've seen today. It's spreading."
Henry tried to shake off the feeling of dread creeping up his spine, but it was no use. The curse wasn't just a rumor, it was real. And it was happening.
The narrator, in his typically dry tone, added: "And so it begins. The Silly Walk curse, once a myth whispered among students, had now made its first official appearance of the year. What was once a harmless legend had become an unavoidable, and absurd, reality. The question was no longer if the curse would spread, but when it would strike next."
After the feast ended, the students made their way back to their respective dormitories. The buzz of excitement that had filled the hall earlier had been replaced by an uneasy tension, with students murmuring nervously about what they had just witnessed.
As Henry, Jonah, and Katherine made their way to the Quackers House common room, they couldn't help but overhear more snippets of conversation.
"... heard it's coming from the Chamber..."
"... no one's been able to find the entrance for years..."
"... they say if you enter, you'll never walk normally again..."
Henry frowned, glancing at his friends. "The Chamber?"
Katherine nodded. "The Chamber of Silly Walks. It's one of Wibberflop's most infamous legends. Supposedly, it was sealed off centuries ago because the magic inside it was too dangerous, anyone who entered would be cursed to walk in ridiculous ways for the rest of their life."
Jonah snorted. "Sounds like something out of a bad joke."
"Tell that to the guy doing the Charleston in the Great Hall," Katherine said grimly.
Henry felt a shiver run down his spine. He'd heard stories about the Chamber of Silly Walks, but he'd always assumed they were just the kind of ridiculous tales that got passed down from student to student. Now, it seemed, there was more truth to them than he'd ever realized.
As they reached the door to the Quackers House common room, decorated with an enormous rubber duck that quacked every time someone entered, Henry turned to Jonah and Katherine.
"If this curse is real," Henry said slowly, "then someone has to be controlling it. Someone had to have opened the Chamber."
Jonah raised an eyebrow. "You think this is someone's idea of a joke?"
"I don't know," Henry admitted. "But we need to find out who's behind it."
The narrator chimed in: "And so, dear readers, our trio finds themselves once again facing an absurd, and mildly terrifying, mystery. The Chamber of Silly Walks, long thought to be nothing more than a ridiculous legend, had returned. And with it, a new year of chaos and uncertainty for Henry Blunder and his friends."
Later that night, as Henry lay in his bed in the Quackers House dormitory, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in his stomach. The moonlight filtered in through the window, casting long shadows across the room, but sleep didn't come easily.
The whispers about the Chamber of Silly Walks, the boy Charleston-ing his way out of the Great Hall, the strange atmosphere in the castle, it all pointed to one thing: something bad was happening at Wibberflop.
Henry glanced over at Jonah's bed, where his friend was snoring softly, oblivious to the mounting danger. Across the room, Katherine's quiet quacking echoed faintly in the darkness.
Henry sighed and rolled over, staring up at the ceiling. He wasn't ready for another year of magical disasters, but it seemed Wibberflop had other plans for him. His mind wandered back to the magical sock from last year, the one he'd tried so hard to forget about. What if it was connected to all of this? What if the sock... and the Chamber... were somehow part of the same, larger puzzle?
The narrator, sensing Henry's growing anxiety, added a final, dry comment: "As Henry drifted into a restless sleep, his mind filled with thoughts of curses, socks, and dark chambers, one thing was becoming increasingly clear: this year would be anything but ordinary."