Vanquished the Werewolf of Wagga Wagga
(A ballad by Gilderoy Lockhart)
I travelled to
Australia one Christmas, for the sun.
I frolicked with the Opaleyes, trapped Billywigs for fun,
I taught the Thundelarra team how best to catch their
And all the while I caught the eyes of many Aussie lasses.
’Twas in the Riverina in the State of New South Wales,
Near the town of Wagga Wagga that I paused from my travails.
For a witch there so bewitchingly invited my caress,
That I chose her to accompany me to the B & S.
With loving, hopeful heart I donned my lilac dinner suit.
And a one-eyed warlock down the pub lent me his flying ute,
So that I could soar o’er farm and field to fetch my fair
Who told me that I was the “Grousest bloke” she’d ever seen.
All eyes were on me as I made my entrance to the ball.
As I led the Pride of Erin they cheered me one and all.
Those bumpkin, Aussie wizards and their maids could not
With the grace and poise of Lockhart and his dazzling
I pranced the Plimpy Polka and a grand Goblin Gavotte,
’Til my partner staggered dizzily and panted, “Geez, I’m
So we left the hall to saunter by a peaceful billabong,
Where Charlene declared, “It’s hot enough to fry a dingo’s
True, the night was warm and humid and the full moon
And Charlene looked jolly pretty (now her staggering was
When she looked at me adoringly I’d half a mind to snog her,
And thus to make that girl the gladdest witch in Wagga
But to my surprise, in Charlene’s eyes I then saw wild
Next she grabbed my hand and pleaded that we should leave
I told her, “No! I
will not go!” I puckered up my lips.
But ere we kissed a monster’s hands closed roughly round my
Behind my back came an attack of forceful, frenzied howling,
That made me recollect
- full moon’s no time for lovers’ prowling.
Those cruel claws, the brute’s breath, hot and meaty on my
Reminded me - Charlene was daft to sneak out for a peck.
“Don’t hurt him, Gilderoy,” she wailed. “That beast’s my husband Bruce!”
“I locked him in the chook shed but some drongo let him
Around my waist wound arms that looked like they were clad
in dog fur,
And I knew that Charlene’s hubby was the wolf of Wagga
The monster started crushing me. I feared it was the end!
So I gallantly farewelled my tearful Aussie sheila friend.
But then from her purse an Everbashing Boomerang she drew,
And she threw it at her husband’s head to beat him black and
Once distracted by the boomerang, the creature set me free.
So I formed a plan of action while I climbed a nearby tree.
Screaming, Charlene fled to the hall, for though the girl
It transpired she did not love enough to venture being
Then I braced myself to face the creature of the night
And I prayed my shapely ankle would not end up werewolf’s
For although I’m brave, I do confess I failed to see the
Of becoming a fine dinner for some Aussie lupine bloke.
But while clinging to the red gum branch I heard a fearsome
Then the bough, with me, crashed thunderously upon the wolf
So I pinned the blighter to the earth by twisting back his
And I hurried fast to deftly cast a nice Homorphous Charm.
Now, I am a modest fellow.
And it doesn’t do to gloat.
But not many wizards dare to point their wands square at the
Of a howling, vicious werewolf. And not many wizards could,
While fighting off said werewolf, perform spellwork half as
No sooner had my supple wand completed its last flick,
Than the monster’s claws retracted and his hair grew not so
And his gruesome fangs, all bared and gleaming, hungry for a
Turned into the large and square teeth of a chap, not very
“I’m Bruce,” quoth he. “And you must be the dirty Pom I’ve
Who’s been lurking round my farmhouse tryin’ to court my
The rustic man, his wand in hand, began to curse and shout.
But the Everbashing Boomerang returned and knocked him out.
Then from the hall ran one and all to see what I had done,
And they proclaimed I was the greatest wizard born, bar
Said one old mage, a grizzled sage, “Strewth, crikey! I’m
Well, bugger me! You’ve set us free! You’ve rescued Wagga
Faithless Charlene pushed through the crowd. “My darling,
Bruce!” she cried.
She flung herself upon the brute. I knew then, she had lied.
She’d tempted me with pretty face and manners so disarming,
Yet she had just wooed Gilderoy for his Homorphous Charming.
Still, all the rest applauded me. They conjured up a chart,
Which showed that on the map they had renamed their town
And they carried me in triumph to the Murrumbidgee’s banks,
Where they feted me with fireworks and showered me with
So when the savage
wombat’s roar sets fearful hearts a’quiver,
Or majestic emu soars above the Murrumbidgee River,
When possum barks or great white sharks swim in a mountain
Let the folk of dear Lockhart recall the power of my wand.
For they’ll never guess the loneliness that being perfect
’Tis an isolated life for those they venerate as kings.
So when wallaby and kangaroo bound over foreign part,
Let the Wagga Wagga temptress know, she broke my noble
[SHE’s notes: First of all, as you may have
noticed, each and every “Wagga” in this poem rhymes with “jogger.” Not one of them rhymes with “dagger.” Nor do
any of them rhyme with “mugger.” Messrs
Fry and Dale, please take note. The
mispronunciation of Wagga Wagga in the Harry Potter talking books is an affront
to the good people of this fine town.
Secondly, (because not everybody is as au fait with the
Australian vernacular as Gilderoy) I have included a glossary of some local
The Riverina: A
farming district of southern New South Wales, lying between the Murrumbidgee
and Murray rivers
S: A common
abbreviation for Bachelors and Spinsters Ball.
These formal dances are held in many rural towns, to provide elegant
entertainment for farmers’ sons and daughters.
Ute: A pick-up truck
Grousest: Best or most exemplary
shed: Chicken coop
Drongo: A fool
Sheila: A woman
Pom: An Englishman
Finally, (and quite extraordinarily) the town of Lockhart
truly exists. It is a historic village,
not far from Wagga Wagga. Although a
sedate community nowadays, in the nineteenth century this area was the base of
operations for the notorious bushranger, Mad Dog Morgan. One can only wonder how he earned that epithet. It may well be that the people of the Wagga
Wagga region have suffered the attacks of werewolves for many generations. Thus, it is quite unsurprising that they
were so pleased to be rescued by Gilderoy Lockhart!]