The Wizards of Aus

After having a whine to friends that so many authors are turning the Harry Potter characters into American teenagers, I came up with the idea of doing an Australian version, turning them all into ockers. Not a story, just a joke, don't take it seriously. There is a translation at the end of the story.

 By Bernice – An Australian.
With thanks to Sin, Mac, Erilyn, Sonja Blue, Lydia Petze


"Struth!" shouted Professor Snape, master of zymurgy and home brewing, "You're a right drongo, Nev! Ah, bugger this for a joke, I'm taking a smoko." He could hear Hagrid, who was built like a brick shit house, hooning up to the castle on his ride-on Victor mower, and went to join him in his shed.

Hagrid's face lit up when he saw his friend, "Hey mate! How're they hanging?"

"Bloody hous elves! They're always on bloody strike!" winged Snape to his esteemed colleague, lighting up a fag. "Dumbledore should just fire the bloody lot of them, useless bloody slackers. See how they like being on the dole for a while."

"I know what'll take ya mind off having to wash ya own daks, Prof," said Hagrid, and girded his loins as he attempted his silkiest seduction line, dangling one huge thong off the end of his huge foot, tantalisingly. "Wanna root?"

"Nah, ta n'all," Snape was deeply moved by the offer from his friend, and was very tempted. Hagrid was, after all, hung like a Mallee bull, "but we got the office barbie this arvo. Gotta go make nice with that bunch of right bloody mongrels."

"Yeah, right," Hagrid looked frilled as a lizard, he loved any excuse for a piss up, "I gotta go muck out the drop bears first. Got some spare vegemite I can smear on me head first?"

"Yeah, plenty. I've been using it to try and piss off the ghost of Ned Kelly."

"Aawwwwwwww jeeeeeze," said Hagrid, expressively, "I've told him before not to come round here. I said love, I said pet, I said love, I said piss off!"


The air was redolent with flies and mozzies and the smell of frying onions, and a raucous chorus of the Hogwarts School song: "Hogsy Hogsy Hogsy! Oi Oi Oi!"

"G'day, mate!" Hagrid beamed widely as Snape joined the small party of faculty for the weekend BBQ, and wiped his large hands on his best white singlette before clapping Snape on the back and nearly knocking him over. "Good to see ya here! I'll chuck another snag on the barbie for ya!"

"Ta muchly, mate," said Snape, smearing some more pink zinc on his generous nose, and adjusting his wizard's acubra, "I could murder sausage sarnie."

"No wuckers, mate, I'll add extra onions, just how ya like it," Hagrid paused for a moment then offered, "Yah rat's tail's looking cute today, Sev, and I love them tight black target jeans."

"Christ, stash it in ya slacks, Hagrid. One root and you're all over me."

"Well, bugger me sideways with a large root vegetable!" interrupted Siribruce Black, "If it ain't Sevebruce Snape out in public. Whatever drug you out of the Slytherin Dugouts?

"Don't be such a wanka, Siribruce," added Sheila McGonigal, who was a bit of a bottler, hitching up her boob tube. "Stop taking the piss all the bloody time."

"I'll knock ya bloody heads together if ya don't stop chucking a wobbly," grumbled Lupin. "Here, get this inta ya instead." He chucked a couple of tinnies to the antagonists.

Black sucked back his tinnie and flattened down his mullet, "I wouldn't have ta give him such aggro if he wasn't always poncing round like a big girls blouse!"

"Get a dog up ya, Black, ya spaz," Snape said wittily, tossing the tinnie Lupin had given him to Hagrid, and getting himself a glass of Coolibar instead. A few chateau la cardboards and a couple of West Coast Coolers and he'd be set for the night. He was drier than a dead dingo's donger.

"Hey, watch out, here comes Sheila Trelawny," Lupin whispered to Snape, as he snagged a bit more fairy bread, made with real fairies. "She's got the hots for you, mate."

Black laughed cruelly, spraying crumbs from his lamington, "Suffer in ya jocks, Snape! Christ, that woman's a bush pig. You should just tell you're a bloody poofta."

"Pour us a Coolibar, will ya, Daaaaarl?" purred Trelawny in some vague attempt to be seductive. "I'm drier than a nun's cunt here. Ain't this weather a corker?" She lit one of her strange herbal cigarettes, the home rolled ones that helped with her visions, and offered everyone a pull. "S'okay, possums, I've got my inhaler if youse needs it."

"Yeah, bewdy, Sheila! Ta!" Lupin took a pull, and flicked a few stray ashes off his flannie. "Bloody ripper!"

"Whatch it, ya wanka," Snape snapped, "Ya getting ashes on me new ugg boots!"

"This stuff's bloody bewdiful, Trelawny, where'd ya gedit?"

"Hagrid growed it down the forbidden bush for me," she said, her smile showing her slightly rotten teeth.

"Hagrid," Lupin called out to the half-bunyip, "You're a dead-set legend! How about ya give us a round on ya lagerphone!" Hagrid's prowess on the lagerphone was legendary, and Snape always made sure to keep all of the bottle caps from his zymurgy classes as spares. Lupin got out his gumleaf in preparation for musical accompaniment, but paused at an intruding sound.

Overhead, they could hear the steady roar of an approaching broom. They could make out the shape of a wizard, some kind of animal riding on the back. Possibly a labrador. Labrador meant Volvobroom. Volvobroom meant it was one of those stuck up St Ives wizards.

"Aw, fair suck of the Sav, is that Lucius?" Lupin whined, "He's such a wanka! Him and his kid and his fucking Volvobroom and his bloody posh Snives talk. Give me the Weasley's any day, they're right battlers. Oh, did you see the new broom we got for Harry? It's a bloody FJ Holdenbroom!"

"Yeah, did ya see the suped up donk on that!"

"Bloody oath!"

"Better than the purple monarobroom you fly, ain't it, Sev!" Black couldn't resist getting in yet another last dig.

"I 'ate those bloody monarobrooms," Hagrid grumbled, "The bloody musical horn on those drives Fang mad!" Fang looked up when he heard his name, the mangy cattle dog had been hanging around waiting for someone to drop a snag.

"It's not Lucius!" said McGonigal, pointing to the broom, "It's Dumbledore! He's such a hornbag!"

Everybody's favourite headmaster, Uncle Arthur Dumbledore gracefully sailed to the ground, tripped, and ended up face down and bum up in the pavlova, bits of passionfruit and banana in his hair. The Tassie devil that had been riding on the back of his broom immediately ran around savaging people. Straightening, Dumbledore gave everyone the thumbs up, pulled a bag of Fredo Frogs from his pocket and then the party really got off the ground.


Deep in the dark evening, the party started to wind down. Flitwick had been injured during a round of dwarf tossing, and was being comforted by an incredibly drunk Vector, who was trying not to puke on the diminutive professor. Dumbledore and McGonigal could be heard giggling from inside Hagrid's shed. Hagrid himself was trying to calm down Fluffy, three blue healers tied together with duct tape, who'd managed to tree a thylacine.

Snape had his back to the stone wall of the Castle, another fag burning in his hand, eyeing a potential suitor with great suspicion.

Black, scratching his nads through his stone wash jeans and scuffing his moccies on the turf, screwed his courage to the sticking point, and finally voiced the deep longings that had plagued him for so long: "Hey, Snape, Wanna root?"

Drawing deep on his Drum roll up, Snape tried desperately to disguise the roiling emotions Black's tender words had engendered deep within his bosom. "Piss off, ya mole!"

Heart broken, Black cried, "Fuckwit! Hope your chooks turn into emus and kick ya dunny door down!"

Watching gingerly from beside the castle's outdoor dunny, as Black's attempts at romance were summarily rejected, Lupin also attempted a careful approach of the somewhat prickly zymurgy master. He thought, if he attempted just a little more delicacy, he could be in with a chance. "Hey, Snape, I was in the torlet and heard what Black said. Bastard, huh? So, ya wanna root?"

Having long forgiven the professor of sheep dip for his past sins, Snape softened his response, "Jees, Lupin, you shit me to tears! You're so bloody piss weak for a were-bandicoot!"

It wasn't an outright rejection. In fact, for Snape, it was almost welcoming, "So... a root's out of the question then?"

"Yea." At Lupin's hang-bandicoot expression, Snape felt himself relent, just a little. "You can give me head if ya like though. But don't you go telling anyone I'm a poofta or I'll do you wiv a wand!"


"And I'm gonna watch the airborne rugby and drink a tinny at the same time!"

"Swoit mayte!"


"Look, listen, look!" Hagrid was obviously seriously pissed off, "I wuz talking to the ghost of Harold Holt and he goes 'you know, I saw Snape getting sucked off by Lupin' and I go 'Roooooooooooly? No, he wouldn't do that! He's a fair dinkum guy! Then Holt goes, he goes, he goes, he goes... he just goes!"

"Ah, Haggers, as if I'd root that mongrel behind ya back!" Snape pleaded his case with a heartfelt earnestness, "Look, listen, look! Ya know you're me one and only spunk rat!"

"You've got pash rash!"

"Well, okay yeah, I did, once. But he was like a total dud root, sooooriously."

"Okay then, no wuckers, but don't do it again! Otherwise I'll do you, and I mean that in a physical way. And then I'll get sent to Adelaide." Adelaide, a terrifying place run by dementors, where the criminal and the unwanted would disappear without a trace. As do most people who go to Adelaide.


Explanation of terms:
Zymurgy: is the science of brewing and fermentation.
Lagerphone: a stick with another stick nailed across the top, covered in bottle caps, is hit with a stick and jingled. Also includes a kind of ridged wooden thingie which can be scraped with the stick.
Gumleaf: a gumleaf, blow over it, makes a musical sound.
Bunyip: Mythical creature, lives in billabongs.
Billabong: waterhole
Bandicoot: Australian native animal.
Tassie Devil: Tasmanian Devil. Small black and white cat like savage creature.
Thylacine: Tasmanian wolf – extinct marsupial dog like creature.
Drop Bear: Imaginary killer koalas, a story told to Yanks to frighten them.
Vegemite: Yeast vegetable spread, like promite or marmite (only better).
Pink Zinc: sun protection
Fredo Frogs: Chocolate frog.
Root: Fuck
Dud Root: Bad fuck
Adelaide: the city where I was born. Bless it's boring cotton socks.
No wuckers: No fucking worries.
Swoit: sweet.
Struth: It's the truth, or God's Truth
Monarobroom: monaro – type of car, popular with 'new Australians'.
FJ Holden Broom: The FJ Holden is to Australia what the Ford is to America.
Dunny or torlet: Toilet
Mullet: Hair short on top, long at the back.
Rat Tail: On short hair, one long thin plait, popular with inner city trendy types in the 80s.
Moccies or Ugg Boots: Very tasteless footwear.
Flannie: Flannel shirt. See Russell Crowe.
Hornbag or spunk rat: Person of great sexual attractiveness.
Harold Holt: Prime Minister who went swimming and never came back.
Ned Kelly: Famous criminal. Well hung.
Cattle dogs and blue healers: Ubiquitous dogs, usually found hanging out the back of a ute.
Ute: flatbed truck.
Pash rash: Pash = kiss. Pash rash = stubble burn.
Tinny: beer
Target: Popular cheap everything store
Sarnie: Sandwich
Barbie: BBQ
Coolibar: cheap popular cask wine
West Coast Coolers: Wine and soft drink, think Bacardi Breezer
Shit House: Toilet. Built like a brick shit house = huge, strong, muscular
Hoon: to travel quickly, or to be a lout or yobbo
Big Girls Blouse: Effeminate
Acubra: Type of hat, popular with country types.
Smoko: cigarette break, tea break.
Drongo: Moron
Dole: Social Security for unemployed
Ocker: lower class Australian, or cliché over the top stereotype put on for tourists. See Crocodile Hunter.