Juktilar Return to Book Page. Their job was to keep the other kids from running in the hall, fighting in the hall, smoking in the purter, kissing in the halls, or starting food fights in the Great Eatery. Many that they visit become uncomfortable when they notice their skeletal hands and the black hoods that hide their numbskulls. Amazon Inspire Digital Educational Resources. All the neighborhood kids stayed far away from 4 Privy Drive even though Uncle Vermin had a swimming pool installed in the backyard in April.
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It contains the first six chapters, approximately one third of the book. If you enjoy it, please purchase the book at www. Cruel Summer While most kids dream about being off from school, and find their summer to rocket by like a cheap amusement park ride, Harry Putter found summer to be the bane of his existence. It was because each summer found him at number 4 Privy Drive, living in the house he grew up in with his Aunt Hachooie, Uncle Vermin, and cousin Mudley, collectively known as the Dirtleys.
Even though he was still spending this summer in the same place, it had started off with a bang, and had been like no other summer of his life. Each summer Harry was treated like a subspecies.
In fact, from as early as he could remember he slept in the doghouse, literally, leaky roof and all. That is, until the summer after his first year of school. He came home and discovered the doghouse was gone. That summer he lived in the closet under the stairs.
And even though Uncle Vermin squeezed a bed in there, Harry liked to sleep under it, rather than in it. Harry thought he was in heaven, only a heaven where someone was trying to kill him. He thought Uncle Vermin was being nice, but later he found out that Hasbeen threatened to beat the snot out of his Uncle Vermin.
Uncle Vermin explained that the Tax Assessor had come by in the middle of that year, and was going to raise the property taxes because of the "added bedroom. So, Harry had his own room that summer, in the guestroom, a real bedroom, upstairs and everything. Of course, he still slept under the bed. But not this summer! This summer he slept in the master bedroom under a king-sized bed.
Uncle Vermin and Aunt Hachooie had the guestroom. Each summer Harry was treated like a slave. He had a list of chores a mile long. Some were difficult chores like, laundry, dishes, washing cars, scrubbing floors, sweeping chimneys, etc. They were just living up to their disgusting name.
He would spend each day cleaning until night when he would fall asleep exhausted. His only goals were to do a good job and thus avoid kicks to his ribs or the seat of his pants from the Dirtleys. Not this summer! This summer, he did no cleaning or chores. Each summer Harry felt like he was slowly starving to death. He sure mentioned it a lot. Harry found it very surprising later in life that food and doghouses were a good deal less expensive than Uncle Vermin had him believe.
Harry was not allowed to be in the kitchen unobserved. All the work he did cooking and cleaning in the kitchen was conducted under the watchful eyes of Aunt Hachooie. He occasionally was able to sneak into the kitchen to steal something to eat, usually a handful of uncooked rice or macaroni.
However, he always risked a thorough beating when doing so. This summer, Harry had developed a small spare tire on his slight frame. Once he had accidentally mentioned that his food talked to him, but was able to convince the therapist that he was only joking.
This summer there were no therapy sessions. Sure, this summer had started out exciting enough, but despite all the improvements, Harry Putter found himself bored. Today was too muggy outside, so Harry stayed in his room where the window air conditioner hummed and kept life bearable, another improvement realized only this summer.
He looked out of the window of his bedroom and sighed. All the neighborhood kids stayed far away from 4 Privy Drive even though Uncle Vermin had a swimming pool installed in the backyard in April. They all had known for a long time that the weird kid with the L-shaped scar on his forehead lived there. Stay away from Harry Putter!
In fact, many of the sorry lot looked up to Mudley for leadership, a sorry lot indeed. That was fine with Harry, he wanted someone of intelligence to talk to, Ron, Hermione, heck he would settle for Neville Largebottom. But no one interesting was around, the only sign of life was the mailman heading from mailbox to mailbox delivering the mail, or as those in the wizarding community referred to it, the muddle mail. Muddle being the word they use for the poor humans that muddled through life without the use of magic.
Wizards of course had a much more sophisticated mail delivery system. Had the mailman looked up, he would have seen a skinny teenager with neat black hair and unibrow, wearing glasses that had been makeshift repaired with masking tape staring out of the window back down at him. But even Hedbutt was nowhere to be seen. Harry sighed again, flopped on the bed, and rummaged through a pile of comics. He considered the quibbage comic, The Adventures of the Furious Whacker, but settled on his copy of the latest Dr.
Nova comic. However, he found himself only leafing through it with disinterest, he had read it three times already. He lay down on the bed and his eyes wandered around the room until he found himself staring at the Loose Cannons poster on the wall. The Loose Cannons were his favorite professional quibbage team. He sighed. The pool was boring, the neighborhood kids were boring, Nintendo was boring, even the comics were boring.
Even though he kept telling himself that it was the best summer of his entire life, and he had said so a half dozen times in letters to Ron and Hermione, who was he kidding? This summer was still the bane of his existence. It turned out that the ill treatment he had received from the Dirtleys was better than the constant boredom he endured this summer. What he really wished for was to be back at school, and he had a really bad school year last year, too.
No wonder everyone thought he had a severe case of stupid in the head. What Harry really wished for when he wished he were back at school, was for an adventure. He picked up the wrapper and angrily thought to himself, "Mudley! You scumbucket! Where are you? Aunt Hachooie was a stern woman, tall and thin. She was very old fashioned in her thoughts and her appearance.
She looked like she would keep a house just so. Not so, above all, she was a Dirtley, and that means trash. On top of that, she had grown accustomed to having Harry do all the real work keeping the house in order for so many years. With several short cries, she danced from the room, out the front door, and ran to the car.
A whimper could be heard in the suddenly quiet living room. Mudley chanced a peek over the edge of the table and quickly pulled his head back down as Harry set the coffee table ablaze with a fireball blast coming from his wand. Harry smiled with satisfaction at the piglike squeal that Mudley made. Mudley Dirtley was a big kid, who liked to throw his weight around. He had grown up teasing and bullying Harry. But ever since Harry had started using magic, he had moved on to terrorizing easier prey in the neighborhood.
Mudley was a pig. Just then, a letter dropped through the slot in the front door. Harry knew right away that this letter was not the muddle mail. He opened the front door to confirm his suspicion, and saw the young goat that had delivered it scampering away. He picked up the letter and tossed it on the burning coffee table where it quickly shriveled to ashes in the blaze. He had gotten so many of these letters so far this summer, in reality a hundred and fifty seven that he could recite them by heart.
Desist immediately in using magic in the presence of muddles. The Department of Wizard Affairs" Harry scoffed at the idea that some silly rule that was meant for unimportant children, who might do something dangerous using magic without supervision, might somehow apply to the great Harry Putter.
The warning notice also reminded Harry of the excitement of the very beginning of summer. In his first trial Harry got off using a temporary insanity plea. The Ministry of Magic really thought they had him this time, when he began using his magic on his first day back from school to educate the Dirtleys on what Harry called the New House Order. Next, the Ministry sent over an Auditor, a wizard who is adept in the magical field of Accounting.
An Auditor uses accounting practices to stun their quarry, until dumbfounded, they submit to paying taxes, interest penalties, and worst of all are beguiled into letting the Auditor prepare their financial and tax reports.
Harry was greatly relieved when the Ministry sent over Kingsley Shuckthecorn to audit him. Kingsley was forced to resign his lucrative Ministry position at once, and immediately helped Harry to defend himself against any further Ministry attempts. Caramelly Fudge, the Minister of Magic, was furious! He hated Harry Putter. Harry was alive, famous, and loved, while his own son, Maple- Walnut, had died while imprisoned in Azcabanana, notoriously infamous.
He wanted Harry to die likewise. The Demented wear black robes, which according to all rules automatically makes them bad guys.
HARRY PUTTER AND THE CHAMBER OF CHEESECAKES PDF
Start your review of Harry Putter and the Chamber of Cheesecakes Write a review Aug 25, Lauraloves rated it did not like it I downloaded this book back in as I am a huge fan of the Harry Potter series and thought that this could be a really funny book. I read some reviews on Amazon and they all sounded positive so I downloaded the book. All of the stuff to do with the original Harry Potter series is totally twisted. I know that this is a parody and I have read HP parodies before online and they havent been too bad but this one is not good at all. I downloaded this book back in as I am a huge fan of the Harry Potter series and thought that this could be a really funny book.
Harry Putter and the Chamber of Cheesecakes