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A kind old wizard decides to teach his hard-

hearted son a lesson by giving him a taste of the

local Muggles’ misery. The young wizard’s con-

science awakesand he agrees to use his magic for

the benefit of his non-magical neighbours. A

simple and heart-warming fableone might think

– in which caseone would reveal oneself to be

an innocent nincompoop. A pro-Muggle story

showing a Muggle-loving father as superior in

magic to a Muggle-hating son? It is nothing short

of amazing that any copies of the original version

of this tale survived the flames to which they

were so often consigned.

Beedle was somewhat out of step with his times

Professor Dumbledore’s Notes

13

in preaching a message of brotherly love for

Muggles. The persecution of witches and wizards

was gathering pace all over Europe in the early fif-

teenth century. Many in the magical community

feltand with good reasonthat offering to cast a

spell on the Muggle-next-door’s sickly pig was

tantamount to volunteering to fetch the firewood

for one’s own funeral pyre.

1 “Let the Muggles

manage without us!” was the cryas the wizards

drew further and further apart from their

non-magical brethrenculminating with the insti-

tution of the International Statute of Wizarding

1 It is trueof coursethat genuine witches and wizards were reasonably

adept at escaping the stakeblock and noose (see my comments about

Lisette de Lapin in the commentary on “Babbitty Rabbitty and her

Cackling Stump”). Howevera number of deaths did occur: Sir Nicholas

de Mimsy-Porpington (a wizard at the royal court in his lifetimeand in

his death-timeghost of Gryffindor Tower) was stripped of his wand

before being locked in a dungeonand was unable to magic himself out

of his execution; and wizarding families were particularly prone to losing

younger memberswhose inability to control their own magic made them

noticeableand vulnerableto Muggle witch-hunters.

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14

Secrecy in 1689when wizardkind voluntarily

went underground.

Children being childrenhoweverthe grotesque

Hopping Pot had taken hold of their imaginations.

The solution was to jettison the pro-Muggle moral

but keep the warty cauldronso by the middle of

the sixteenth century a different version of the tale

was in wide circulation among wizarding families.

In the revised storythe Hopping Pot protects an

innocent wizard from his torch-bearingpitchfork-

toting neighbours by chasing them away from the

wizard’s cottagecatching them and swallowing

them whole. At the end of the storyby which

time the Pot has consumed most of his neigh-

boursthe wizard gains a promise from the few

remaining villagers that he will be left in peace to

practise magic. In returnhe instructs the Pot to

render up its victimswho are duly burped out of

its depthsslightly mangled. To this daysome

wizarding children are only told the revised

Professor Dumbledore’s Notes

15

version of the story by their (generally anti-

Muggle) parentsand the originalif and when

they ever read itcomes as a great surprise.

As I have already hintedhoweverits pro-

Muggle sentiment was not the only reason that

“The Wizard and the Hopping Pot” attracted

anger. As the witch-hunts grew ever fiercerwiz-

arding families began to live double livesusing

charms of concealment to protect themselves and

their families. By the seventeenth centuryany

witch or wizard who chose to fraternise with

Muggles became suspecteven an outcast in his or

her own community. Among the many insults

hurled at pro-Muggle witches and wizards (such

fruity epithets as “Mudwallower”“Dunglicker” and

“Scumsucker” date from this period)was the

charge of having weak or inferior magic.

Influential wizards of the daysuch as Brutus

Malfoyeditor of

Warlock at War

an anti-Muggle

periodicalperpetuated the stereotype that a

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16

Muggle-lover was about as magical as a Squib.

2 In

1675Brutus wrote:

This we may state with certainty: any wizard

who shows fondness for the society of Muggles is

of low intelligencewith magic so feeble and

pitiful that he can only feel himself superior if

surrounded by Muggle pigmen.

Nothing is a surer sign of weak magic than a

weakness for non-magical company.

This prejudice eventually died out in the face of

overwhelming evidence that some of the world’s

most brilliant wizards

3 wereto use the common

phrase“Muggle-lovers”.

The final objection to “The Wizard and the

2 [A Squib is a person born to magical parentsbut who has no magical

powers. Such an occurrence is rare. Muggle-born witches and wizards are

much more common. JKR]

3 Such as myself.

Professor Dumbledore’s Notes

17

Hopping Pot” remains alive in certain quarters

today. It was summed up bestperhapsby Beatrix

Bloxam (1794-1910)author of the infamous

Toadstool Tales. Mrs Bloxam believed that The

Tales of Beedle the Bard were damaging to child-

ren because of what she called “their unhealthy

preoccupation with the most horrid subjectssuch

as deathdiseasebloodshedwicked magic

unwholesome characters and bodily effusions and

eruptions of the most disgusting kind”. Mrs

Bloxam took a variety of old storiesincluding

several of Beedle’sand rewrote them according to

her idealswhich she expressed as “filling the pure

minds of our little angels with healthyhappy

thoughtskeeping their sweet slumber free of

wicked dreams and protecting the precious flower

of their innocence”.

The final paragraph of Mrs Bloxam’s pure and

precious reworking of “The Wizard and the

Hopping Pot” reads:

The Tales of Beedle the Bard

18

Then the little golden pot danced with delight –

hoppitty hoppitty hop! – on its tiny rosy toes! Wee

Willykins had cured all the dollies of their poorly

tum-tumsand the little pot was so happy that it

filled up with sweeties for Wee Willykins and the

dollies!

“But don’t forget to brush your teethy-pegs!” cried

the pot.

And Wee Willykins kissed and huggled the hop-

pitty pot and promised always to help the dollies

and never to be an old grumpy-wumpkins again.

Mrs Bloxam’s tale has met the same response from

generations of wizarding children: uncontrollable

retchingfollowed by an immediate demand to

have the book taken from them and mashed into

pulp.

21

High on a hill in an enchanted gardenenclosed

by tall walls and protected by strong magic

flowed the Fountain of Fair Fortune.

Once a yearbetween the hours of sunrise and

sunset on the longest daya single unfortunate

was given the chance to fight their way to the

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22

Fountainbathe in its waters and receive Fair

Fortune for evermore.

On the appointed dayhundreds of people

travelled from all over the kingdom to reach the

garden walls before dawn. Male and femalerich

and pooryoung and oldof magical means and

withoutthey gathered in the darknesseach

hoping that they would be the one to gain

entrance to the garden.

Three witcheseach with her burden of

woemet on the outskirts of the crowdand told

one another their sorrows as they waited for

sunrise.

The firstby name Ashawas sick of a malady

no Healer could cure. She hoped that the

Fountain would banish her symptoms and grant

her a long and happy life.

The secondby name Althedahad been

The Fountain of Fair Fortune

23

robbed of her homeher gold and her wand

by an evil sorcerer. She hoped that the

Fountain might relieve her of powerlessness and

poverty.

The thirdby name Amatahad been deserted

by a man whom she loved dearlyand she

thought her heart would never mend. She hoped

that the Fountain would relieve her of her grief

and longing.

Pitying each otherthe three women

agreed thatshould the chance befall themthey

would unite and try to reach the Fountain

together.

The sky was rent with the first ray of sunand

a chink in the wall opened. The crowd surged

forwardeach of them shrieking their claim for

the Fountain’s benison. Creepers from the garden

beyond snaked through the pressing massand

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24

twisted themselves around the first witchAsha.

She grasped the wrist of the second witch

Althedawho seized tight upon the robes of the

third witchAmata.

And Amata became caught upon the armour

of a dismal-looking knight who was seated on a

bone-thin horse.

The creepers tugged the three witches

through the chink in the walland the knight

was dragged off his steed after them.

The furious screams of the disappointed

throng rose upon the morning airthen fell

silent as the garden walls sealed once more.

Asha and Altheda were angry with Amata

who had accidentally brought along the knight.

“Only one can bathe in the Fountain! It will

be hard enough to decide which of us it will be

without adding another!”

The Fountain of Fair Fortune

25

NowSir Lucklessas the knight was known

in the land outside the wallsobserved that these

were witchesandhaving no magicnor any

great skill at jousting or duelling with swords

nor anything that distinguished the non-magical

manwas sure that he had no hope of beating the

three women to the Fountain. He therefore

declared his intention of withdrawing outside

the walls again.

At thisAmata became angry too.

“Faint heart!” she chided him. “Draw your

swordKnightand help us reach our goal!”

And so the three witches and the forlorn

knight ventured forth into the enchanted

gardenwhere rare herbsfruit and flowers grew

in abundance on either side of the sunlit paths.

They met no obstacle until they reached the

foot of the hill on which the Fountain stood.

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26

The Fountain of Fair Fortune

27

Therehoweverwrapped around the base of

the hillwas a monstrous white Wormbloated

and blind. At their approachit turned a foul

face upon themand uttered the following

words:

“Pay me the proof of your pain.”

Sir Luckless drew his sword and attempted to

kill the beastbut his blade snapped. Then

Altheda cast rocks at the Wormwhile Asha and

Amata essayed every spell that might subdue or

entrance itbut the power of their wands was no

more effective than their friend’s stoneor the

knight’s steel: the Worm would not let them

pass.

The sun rose higher and higher in the skyand

Ashadespairingbegan to weep.

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28

Then the great Worm placed its face upon

hers and drank the tears from her cheeks. Its

thirst assuagedthe Worm slithered asideand

vanished into a hole in the ground.

Rejoicing at the Worm’s disappearancethe

three witches and the knight began to climb the

hillsure that they would reach the Fountain

before noon.

Halfway up the steep slopehoweverthey came

across words cut into the ground before them.

Pay me the fruit of your labours.

Sir Luckless took out his only coinand placed it

upon the grassy hillsidebut it rolled away and

was lost. The three witches and the knight

continued to climbbut though they walked for

The Fountain of Fair Fortune

29

hours morethey advanced not a step; the

summit came no nearerand still the inscription

lay in the earth before them.

All were discouraged as the sun rose over their

heads and began to sink towards the far horizon

but Altheda walked faster and harder than any of

themand exhorted the others to follow her

examplethough she moved no further up the

enchanted hill.

“Couragefriendsand do not yield!” she cried

wiping the sweat from her brow.

As the drops fell glittering on to the earththe

inscription blocking their path vanishedand

they found that they were able to move upwards

once more.

Delighted by the removal of this second

obstaclethey hurried towards the summit as

fast as they coulduntil at last they glimpsed the

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30

Fountainglittering like crystal in a bower of

flowers and trees.

Before they could reach ithoweverthey came

to a stream that ran round the hilltopbarring

their way. In the depths of the clear water lay a

smooth stone bearing the words:

Pay me the treasure of your past.

Sir Luckless attempted to float across the stream

on his shieldbut it sank. The three witches

pulled him from the waterthen tried to leap the

brook themselvesbut it would not let them

crossand all the while the sun was sinking

lower in the sky.

So they fell to pondering the meaning of

the stone’s messageand Amata was the first

The Fountain of Fair Fortune

31

to understand. Taking her wandshe drew

from her mind all the memories of happy times

she had spent with her vanished loverand

dropped them into the rushing waters. The

stream swept them awayand stepping stones

appearedand the three witches and the knight

were able to pass at last on to the summit of

the hill.

The Fountain shimmered before themset

amidst herbs and flowers rarer and more beauti-

ful than any they had yet seen. The sky burned

rubyand it was time to decide which of them

would bathe.

Before they could make their decision

howeverfrail Asha fell to the ground. Exhausted

by their struggle to the summitshe was close

to death.

Her three friends would have carried her to

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32

The Fountain of Fair Fortune

33

the Fountainbut Asha was in mortal agony and

begged them not to touch her.

Then Altheda hastened to pick all those herbs

she thought most hopefuland mixed them in

Sir Luckless’s gourd of waterand poured the

potion into Asha’s mouth.

At onceAsha was able to stand. What was

moreall symptoms of her dread malady had

vanished.

“I am cured!” she cried. “I have no need of

the Fountain – let Altheda bathe!”

But Altheda was busy collecting more herbs