The Magical Bat Year IV Chapter 1: 1 September, 2001, a batman fanfic

The Magical Bat IV.

#include stdDisclaimer.h: Batman, Catwoman, Alfred, Babs, Dick, Lucius Fox, and the others, are DC Comic's toys. Hogwarts, Albus, Minerva, the Weasleys and the others in the Potterverse belong to the fabulous JK Rowling. I'm just playing with them, and they'll be put back later. The Morton family is used with the permission of GITM. Everyone else, they're mine. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead is purely coincidental.

This is a sequel to my stories: The Bat & the Cat, redux, The Magical Bat (I), Magical Bat: road trip (1.5), The Magical Bat II, Magical Bat: Training Trip (2.5), Magical Bat III, and The Magical Bat: Business Trip (3.5).

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1 – Prologue, Fourth Year
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Saturday, September 1, 2001:
London, Kings Cross station: 10:30 (GMT)
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"I have not had much chance to talk to you, my sister," Tomas said as they unloaded their school trunks from the van. "However, something is troubling you, and I will assist if I can."

"We've all said that," Arthur said, earning him a poisonous glare from Mattie. She sighed, then turned and apologized, "I'm sorry, I know I've been a bitch, but there are things I haven't worked through yet. Please bear with me."

"We are here to help, you don't have to save the world on your own," Julie said, glancing at her older brother. She didn't see Mattie's slight start as she lifted her trunk.

"Right now, I'll be happy just to get on the school train," Mattie replied, "Without being recognized," she added as she hugged her aunt goodbye.

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"Cor, isn't that Wayne?" someone asked as the group worked their way toward platform 9 3/4. They ignored the gossip as they got to platform 9, then Julie screamed, "Look, it's ELVIS!" As people turned to look, Mattie slipped through the barrier.

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Mattie was in a much better mood, she chuckled, saying, "Thanks, Julie. I needed that."

"No prob," she replied, then added softly, "I'm available to talk, too."

"Thanks, but one problem I really can't talk about, for security reasons," Mattie said, "It deals with the Guard's Intelligence operations, there's a... difference of opinion, and I'm not really happy with the way things worked out." She sighed, "People have said that I made the best decision with the information at hand, but still..." she sighed again, "When it comes to people's lives, it... well, I'm not happy with it."

"Hmf," Julie said. She walked a bit, adding softly, "The rumor mill at school has Professor Snape doing something with Intelligence. You might want to ask him."

"Thanks, I will," she replied, then Bill came up, "That is SO cool! Did you know people are still looking for Elvis out there?"

"You ain't seen nothing yet," his older sister said.

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"First years?" Arthur asked, levitating Bill's trunk. The two nodded, and Bill joined them as Arthur stowed his trunk. "Now, you saw where I'll be?" Arthur asked, "Three up and to the right. You got any wizard money left?"

Bill nodded, "I'll change into my uniform when the witch comes by with the snack cart. There's a huge amount of food at the feast, so don't ruin my appetite," he quoted, then asked, "Sure you won't tell me what the Sorting's like?"

"It's different for everyone," Arthur said solemnly. "It's not too painful."

"That's reassuring," the girl asked, "Is it like an ear piercing?"

"Don't know, never had one pierced," Arthur replied, tugging on his earlobes. He ruffled his brother's hair as he squirmed, "Good luck to all of you," and left the compartment.

"Gaa, how embarrassing," Bill said as he plunked onto a seat. "Bill Morton," he introduced himself, "And that was my big brother Arthur."

"Anna and Warren Driver," the girl said, fluffing out her long, dark brown curls. "A Yank?"

"Trust fund only pays for Hogwarts," Bill explained. "I've tried to find out what the Sorting ceremony is like, but gotten nothing. Even my copy of the Complete History of Hogwarts has just a blank section. You two had any better luck?"

"No, mate, but I did see a celebrity that goes to Hogwarts," Warren said. "You hear of Mattie Wayne?"

Bill was surprised, "Sure, she's sorta kinda been dating my brother, but she's mad at him for some reason. She plays Seeker on Slytherin's Quidditch team. Any idea what house we'll be put in?"

"I will be in Ravenclaw, of course," Anna said proudly. "I match all their qualities of intelligence and high academic achievement." She glared at her brother, "He will no doubt be a Hufflepuff."

"My brother's a Huffie, my sister's a Gryff," Bill said. "My grades aren't good enough for Ravenclaw, and I'm not a politician like Mattie, so Slytherin is out. They say the Gryffs are the 'white knights' that ride off to rescue the maiden, like Dudley Do-Right," Anna stifled a giggle, "So that eliminates Gryffindor."

Warren glanced at his sister, "You mentioned the Mounties, she's always had a thing for them. Last Halloween, she got dressed up as one..."

"Warren!"

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After getting Bill situated, Arthur entered the compartment to find his supposed girlfriend under a privacy spell with the other girls. He sat next to Charlie and Andrew, who said, "They've been in there now for a few minutes. I wonder what they talk about?"

"Boys, of a cert," Anne said as she entered the compartment. She glanced up, the overhead storage for the trunks was full, so she stacked hers with the boys and sat next to them. She sighed, "When I journeyed to this century, I thought I had considered all things, but some still disquiet me." She looked at the three boys, "Prithee, thou art male, coulds't thou enlighten me?"

Charlie looked at the other two as the train whistle blew, the carriage starting with a jerk, "We'll do our best, if you'll return the favor about girls. Even this one, with four sisters doesn't always understand."

"Aye, I am confounded by this 'girl thing' and 'guy thing' I doth hear of," Anne replied. "Do you not have late night discussions of thy maidens, as we do of our suitors?"

"We talk about our girlfriends, but not to the extent that I think you do," Arthur said slowly, the other two nodding. "When I've overheard my sisters, they go into what I would call excruciating detail, but guys..."

"Guys kid and joke around, I think you girls get more, um..." Charlie offered, Andrew adding, "...more value for the discussion. We don't actually solve the problems, not that any are offered." He glanced at the other boys, "We'll offer suggestions privately, later, like Arthur and Mattie, but in public, no, we joke around about it."

"Ah," Anne said. She reflected for a moment, ankles crossed and bouncing back and forth under her long skirt, "What are we to do with these two star-crossed lovers? Of a cert, they need help."

"I don't need help," Arthur said mulishly. "She does."

Anne tisk'd, "There be two sides to a coin when struck by the King's goldsmith, there be two sides to this coin as well. One must rub away the dirt and see the fine gold. What doth trouble you about thy maiden?"

Arthur reflected, then said slowly, "My side is I did the best thing I could think of to deal with a dangerous situation with a minimum of risk. Her side is she thinks I betrayed her."

"Details, mate, make with the details," Charlie said.

"Sorry, no. You'll need to ask her."

Charlie snorted and sat back, "We'll never find out that way. Sooner to break into the Bank of England." He looked at Anne, "You room with her, can you try?"

"You both need help," Anne said primly. She pulled her ankles up to rest her chin on her knees, she mused, "She is bothered by what occurred with our last flight, and is feeling guilty of the invasion." She glanced at the three boys, then relaced her fingers around her ankles. "I hath reminded her that not all plans go to form, there are variables in each equation that affect the outcome. I hath also said that we knew not of the invasion until our return. Still, she blames herself for ..."

When Anne didn't go on, Andrew asked gently, "For what?"

"I am sworn to secrecy, I cannot say," Anne said reluctantly.

"The only thing that would eat at her like that would be..." Charlie said, looking at the others.

"A death," Andrew finished quietly.

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"Is that a panther?" Anna gasped as she saw Ginny move down the swaying corridor as people changed in their compartments.

"His name's Shadow," Ginny said as she came nose to snout with him. He sniffed her thoroughly, then 'youped' and moved off with Ginny down the train's corridor.

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"Firs' years over here!" the large man called down the train platform, "Firs' years over here!"

"Hagrid!" Mattie called, and a grin split his face as he waved, "'Lo, Miss Wayne. Come by for a cuppa?"

She cut through the crowd, giving the half-giant a hug that he returned, "Hopefully more than one. I'm sorry I missed your classes last year." She smiled at Bill, then said, "Hello, Warren Warren. Glad to see you, Hagrid will take good care of you." She glanced at the stunned brunette next to him, offering her hand, "Mattie Wayne."

"She's a little tongue tied," Warren said. "This is my sister Anna." A whistle blew, and Mattie smiled, "I've got to go. Later, Hagrid."

"C' by later, Miss Wayne, Fang's missed you," he said as she moved off, resuming the call, "Firs' years over here!"

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A blonde witch in pale emerald robes waited at the top of the stairs for the nervous firsties. "Good evening. I am Deputy Headmistress Vector. In a moment, I will take you to be sorted into one of four houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Your house is your family while you are at Hogwarts, good grades and following the rules will gain points, while misbehavior and rule breaking will cost points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the House cup." She favored them with a glance, "You have a minute to straighten up. I suggest you do so." She left them, walking through the anteroom, and getting Minerva's nod.

Anna straightened her brother's shirt collar, asking, "How do I look?"

He reached over to brush off her shoulders, and swallowed nervously, "As good as ever."

Vector reappeared silently. "If everyone is ready, please follow me," opening the doors to the Great Hall, leading the line of nervous firsties.

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"Morton, William!"

Bill swallowed convulsively before he made his way between the two tables, and sat on the old stool. "Bill, please," he asked. Callista smiled at him, then lowered the Hat onto his head.

"Hello, Mr. Morton, and welcome to Hogwarts. My name is Alastair, and I see you're a bit like your brother and sister."

"Hello, Mr. Alastair. How do you mean? Are you reading my mind?"

"Why, yes child, how else do you expect me to sort you?" The Hat sighed, "Now do you have any questions?"

"I've been thinking, and I don't see how I'd fit into any of the houses. I'm not super smart like Ravenclaw, and I'm not brave like Gryffindor. I guess I'm a boring old Hufflepuff like Arthur."

"Boring? I should say not!" The Hat snorted. "Just because they are not glory-seekers does not make them boring, or second-class, which is what you're implying, Mr. Morton. I will not have you disparage a fine house like Hufflepuff with many, many great witches and wizards because you find them 'boring'. No, son, I've been doing this for many a year, and every single witch and wizard, including those intimidating Professors you see sitting up there frowning at you, were once just as terrified as you are."

"Then why did you put Arthur and Julie where you did?" Bill asked.

"That, Mr. Morton, is a very private matter between them and myself." The Hat rebuked. "Just as this conversation is. I remember all those conversations, going back centuries. Indeed, I was recently fortunate enough to meet a young lady who would wear me in years to come, and who consented to wear me again. Most intriguing, but I digress. We are here to sort you. Now then, where to put you? I don't think you would fit in Ravenclaw, you're definitely intelligent enough, but you don't have their burning hunger to know." He announced, "Not Ravenclaw!" to assorted groans.

"For the simple reason that you don't have what I call the 'white knight' motivation, I'm also going to rule out Gryffindor. While I think you'd rescue someone in danger, you don't go seeking it out," he said, calling, "Not Gryffindor!" to groans, whistles, and money changing hands. "Similarly, Mr. Morton, whilst you like Miss Wayne, you are nothing like her. Your attempts at subtle manipulation are not particularly clever, they would eat you alive." Bill started, and Alastair chuckled, "Not physically, of course. It would not be a pleasant experience for you, you don't have enough of the predator in you."

"So I'm left with the 'catch-all' house, Hufflepuff," Bill thought in disgust.

"No, I'm putting you in Hufflepuff because you're not a Gryffindor rule-breaker, it isn't in your character, Mr. Morton. You're not a manipulative, aggressive Slytherin, and while studious, you're not the type to sleep in the library. You'll do enough studying to grasp the concept and perform the task, you're not the kind to delve into the history and the subtle ramifications of a spell. A Ravenclaw ignores food, sleep and hygiene to research. You have common sense, which this tired old world needs a great deal of. Are we clear on that?" Alastair asked.

"All right," Bill thought, and Alastair grunted. "Good. You can always come and see me, I'm usually on a shelf in the Headmistress' office, unless I'm watching a Quidditch practice or a game. Are you planning to... good. Well, best of luck in the tryouts for Quidditch, and I wanted to draw it out a few seconds longer. Congratulations, you're now the record holder for the longest Sorting." Alastair shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

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The Headmistress stood, tapping her goblet. As the noise quieted down, she said, "Thank you. Now that we have eaten, I have just a few start-of-term announcements. As always, magic is forbidden in the corridors, and Mr. Filch's list of banned items has grown to seventy two feet, should you care to peruse it." There was general laughter, "The Forbidden Forest remains strictly forbidden to all students, as I presume you do not wish to die a most horrible death." Minerva favored them with a look, "Professor Potter will be having his usual informal seminar for the muggleborn firsties after breakfast tomorrow at the Quidditch pitch. Classes start Monday, so off to bed with you."

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"Anna Nicole Driver," the nervous firstie said as she smeared her blood on her name. She held her breath until it started to rotate with the others, when the other members of the Den applauded.

"Excellent," Professor Snape said. "As a member of Slytherin, we support each other, even if we disagree in private. If you need assistance with your studies, seek out another member of the den for private tutoring. Ladies, if you need a pass for your monthly time, please do not hesitate to ask myself or a nurse. However, if you are using it to skive off class, I will know." He favored them all with a glower. "Any detentions you earn will be doubled by me. Lastly, I will be most unhappy with an unplanned pregnancy, potions are available from myself or the nurse. I expect you to exercise discretion. Mr. Dorney?"

"Thank you, professor," he said as the professor departed. "Sound travels up and down the stairwells, if you snore, have sex or otherwise make noise, please be courteous and use silencing spells. One last bit of advice to the firsties," he added. "Believe every word."

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Sprink was hanging upside down from her broom as she maneuvered the large portrait of Anne's 14th century family into place, while a somewhat shell-shocked Anna watched. Waving a hand over her eyes, Connie whistled, "Hello there? Anna, was it? You in there?"

"Yes, I... I apologize, I was just so certain that I would be in Ravenclaw. I even had the routes to the classrooms memorized from their tower."

"The 'Claws think too much," Sprink claimed from her upside down position, the back of her skirt hanging down, the front clenched between her knees.

"I can sympathize," Ami Bones said from where she was undressing. "My family has been Hufflepuff for centuries, and then I'm sorted into the Den. Talk about a shock to the family." She tossed her blouse at the foot of her bed, "I got screeching from family members when I went home for Christmas, 'Slytherin! How could you be a Slytherin? They're evil, that's where You-Know-Who came from!' Bah!" she snorted, "I'm not planning on conquering the world, thank you."

"But... but... Wayne is a Slytherin, and..."

"She? A world-conquerer?" Anne snorted, "Sooner that I would."

"Mattie is NOT a world-conquering type," Sprink said, flipping back up right on her broom, then jumping off it.

"Too much paperwork," Mattie said, from where she was leaning against the doorframe to the loo, dressed in a grey XXL Gotham Knights jersey she wore as a nightdress, a black knight in a helmet centered in a yellow field on her chest. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, though, guys." Her bare feet slapped against the fieldstone floor as she pulled a pillow off the bed, hugging it as she sat against the frame and asking the air, "Cindy?"

A house elf popped into the room, immediately squealing, "Mistress Wayne!" in delight.

"Now Cindy, what did we discuss about the word 'Mistress'?" Mattie asked with a smile.

"You does not like it, Miss Wayne," the house elf said, "I is sorry, but I is happy to sees you again."

"That's all right, I forgive you. I apologize, but I've been off planet. What's been happening with the elf council?" The house elf immediately cast a privacy spell, and Sprink said from her bunk, "They'll be a moment. Now, Anna, one word of advice about our favorite girl billionaire, she wants to be treated just like everyone else. That can be kinda hard, but as long as you don't prank her weapons, desk or her laptop, she won't mind. 'Specially the weapons, they're real, an' it's a safety thing."

"She's a martial artist," Connie chimed in from her seat on the floor, "She teaches classes on Sunday afternoons. If you want to know how to fight, she'll teach you." She settled more comfortably, adding, "Ever hear of Gotham City?"

"I have heard of it," Anna said, finally relaxing enough to pull off her skirt, and take a seat on the floor. "A mid-sized Yank city with a crime problem, isn't it?"

"Saying that Gotham has a crime problem is like saying the French like to surrender," Connie said. "The city's unofficial nickname is 'The city of nightmares,' but don't tell her that, she's proud of that hell-hole."

"Hey, I don't dump the Big Apple," Mattie said, causing several to jump. "Don't dis my 'burg, or we'll haveta come over there and teach you New York pansies how to rumble in th' jungle." She sat back, "My grammar school could'a kicked your butts back to Hoboken. Now, enough wi' the 'Dump on Wayne' bit, or I'll feed youse a knuckle sammich." She waved her right fist theatrically, then grinned,"Tonks, what's up wi' you and Cholie? Spill, baby, spill. Cindy will be back with hot chocolate in a minute."