Am I an encyclopedia of Simpsons knowledge? It depends on whom you ask, really.  I wouldn't say I am. However, I'd say I know enough to make this an ok story.

Odd Coincidence

By Scott Jewett

            Harry Potter picked himself up off the ground where he lay. Next to him were the Golden Snitch he had just caught, and his Firebolt broomstick.  A quick glance around told him that he was in the same wooded area where Cedric Diggory had been murdered, and where he himself had barely escaped after witnessing Lord Voldemort's rebirth. He didn't even have the time to wonder who might have charmed the Snitch and made it a Portkey before the big bad dude himself came floating through the woods toward him. Harry did a quick mental check, just to make sure.

            "Hmmmm…tall, skeletally thin, face like a big honkin' ugly snake…yeah, that's him all right." He straightened up as much as he could.

            "So, I don't suppose you'd want to tell me who charmed the Snitch?" Voldemort merely smiled. The sort of evil smile that makes babies cry and kills cows at a hundred yards.

            "No, Harry, I won't. I very well could, since you won't be making it back to Hogwarts to get revenge of any type…but what good will the news do you if you're dead five seconds after hearing it?" He smiled even wider, which caused the instant death of a small herd of cows three hundred yards away, and raised his wand.

            "Don't expect that Reverse Spell effect to work again, Harry. I've managed to get myself a new wand, which will destroy you quite nicely." He raised the wand. "AVADA-"

            Voldemort lowered his wand in some confusion. Harry hadn't raised his own wand in defense, or cowered in fear, or anything like that. He'd simply stood there with a small smile on his face. Now, Lord Voldemort had seen many a victim die, but they'd never just smiled at him, hence the confusion.

            "Might I ask why you're…smiling?"

            Harry laughed. "Haven't you learned anything? You've been trying to kill me for fifteen years now! Something always happens to save me. Your record with me is almost worse that Sideshow Bob's record in trying to kill Bart Simpson."  Voldemort scoffed.

            "Are you kidding? My record's much worse than his. He's been defeated by children aged ten and eight. I was almost killed by a baby!  And let's not forget the time he actually reformed, but was still sent to prison by that idiot Wiggum…"

            Calling Harry mildly shocked at that point would have been a severe understatement. It would have been like saying Hitler was a little out of line.  He stared at Voldemort with the sort of look reserved for either sideshow freaks or the criminally insane.

            "I'm sorry, maybe I'm not hearing you right. You know about the Simpsons?" Voldemort stopped his rant immediately, looking mildly guilty.

            "No! Of course not. I hate Muggles and everything associated with them, you know that…" Harry, who was of course not an idiot, had picked up on the slight hesitation in his voice.

            "You do, don't you? You've watched the Simpsons! I bet you even like them!"  Voldemort sort of stammered for a second before deciding to give up.

            "Yes! Of course! I watch the Simpsons, and I like it! Are you happy now?" Harry didn't really know how to feel. The Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, who was all gung ho about leaving magic to the pureblooded, enjoyed a Muggle TV show? Of course, he'd heard rumors that Matt Groening was an American wizard who'd used a couple charms to get his show on the air, but he'd never believed that.  He just leaned against a headstone, looking at Voldemort in mild surprise.

            "So…when did this happen?"

            Voldemort sighed. "The very night it debuted on television, believe it or not. I was still a spirit, forcing myself to stay alive…or as alive as I was anyway.  I had wound up in America for some strange reason. It's entirely possible that I didn't even know where I was going…that I was pushing so hard to stay alive that it didn't matter where I went."

            Harry nodded, wishing he had a bag of popcorn.

            "So there I was, in the middle of winter, on a Muggle street somewhere.  I happened to glance in a window as I floated by, and the image of Homer caught my eye. I was so intrigued that I actually went into the house, hovering in a corner and watching the first episode. I enjoyed the jokes and the references, and I actually found myself wanting to see the show again. I was happy to find that the family in the house liked it too and would be watching the next week. It was a relief, because I couldn't very well control them anymore."

            Harry, who had conjured a bag of popcorn to eat while he listened, simply nodded again.

            "I've been a fan ever since, Harry. Of course, it has never interfered with my plans to return to power.  And believe me…I might be a wizard encyclopedia of Simpsons knowledge, but I'm still the Dark Lord."

            Harry glimpsed what might be his only chance to be saved. He smirked.

            "Wizard encyclopedia, huh? I bet you don't even know something simple, like Marge's maiden name!"

            "Bouvier" Voldemort said, and then paused. "Are you…challenging me, Harry?"  Harry stood up, looking as straight into Voldemort's bright red eyes as he could without flinching.

            "I am. You're not the only one who's a Simpsons fan, you know…once I got my cousin's extra television working, I never missed an episode. I say we have a trivia contest. First one to miss a question loses."

            Voldemort smiled so wide and evil that every cow within three miles keeled over dead, and every sheep spontaneously combusted.

            "You're on, Potter!" He conjured up a stopwatch. "Shall we say…30 seconds to answer each question?"

            "Works for me…I also think we should set our wands aside. We can't be getting revenge on one another for cheating, now can we?" Voldemort considered, and then tossed his wand aside. Harry followed suit.

            "All right, Harry. We'll each take some time to think up some questions."  "Suits me…but lay off the grins. People are going to wonder what's happening to all the livestock."

            The next few minutes seemed more strenuous to Harry than a five-hour Quidditch match. Suddenly having to rack his brain for all the Simpsons trivia he knew was a lot harder than he thought it would be. Plus, he was certain that Voldemort wouldn't be beaten by anything easy.   

            Voldemort appeared a few minutes later. "Ok, Harry. The contest begins now. You may ask first…I may be evil, but you deserve at least a sporting chance."  Harry shrugged.

            "Please…Dark Lord's privilege. You ask first." Voldemort barely curbed his smile before a cow that happened to wander into his radius died (incidentally, it was very sick for a week afterward.)

            "What's in the picture hanging over Apu and Manjula's bed?" Harry's eyes widened.

            "The Taj Mahal…gee, you don't pull any punches, do you?  Ok…what's the game run by Spud and Cooder at the carnival?"

            "Ring toss. Who was the voice of Hank Scorpio and Jacques the bowling instructor?"

            "Albert Brooks.  How many of Apu and Manjula's octuplets are girls?"  Harry thought he might have had Voldemort there. Seconds ticked by on the conjured stopwatch. Voldemort looked almost nervous.

            "Two. At least, two of the names given were girl's names. What's the slogan of Wally Kogen's travel agency?"

            "Now Get Outta Here.  Who joined the Naval Reserve with Homer?"

            "Moe, Barney, and Apu. What names are on Homer's list of possible new names when he wants to change his name?"

            "Hercules Rockefeller, Handsome B. Wonderful, Rembrandt Q. Einstein, and Max Power.  Where did Amber Dempsey get her eyelash implants?"

            And so it went, all night.  Harry and Voldemort impressed each other greatly with their knowledge. They took breaks every hour, conjuring up snacks and drinks. Just after dawn, it happened. Harry had taken nearly twenty seconds to remember what Jimbo Jones' real first name was (if anyone cares, it's Corky…oh, and Amber Dempsey got her implants in Paraguay, where it's not illegal.), and he bounced back quickly.

            "Which episode was created first, even though it was broadcasted later?"

            "Some Enchanted Evening…the one with no real couch gag. What song was Otto humming while he worked on the Bloodmobile?" Harry froze for a second. He could remember the melody easily, but he had only heard what the song was once. He searched his memory as the seconds ticked away.

            "Aaaaagh…it's right on the tip of my tongue…" He strained and strained as the clock wound down. Ten seconds…five…four…three…

            "Black Sabbath! "Iron Man"!" And of course, that was it. Voldemort looked furious, and his hand twitched like he was going to reach for his wand. He calmed down, though, and waited for his question.

            Harry was, quite frankly, sick of the trivia contest. He felt that he'd proved his knowledge beyond the shadow of a doubt, and he didn't want to keep going. All he needed was one perfect question…some sort of passing reference in a single episode.  Something that would have been easily missed, even by a Dark Lord…

            "Where did Dr. Hibbert go to medical school?"

            Voldemort suddenly looked panicked. Silence fell. The stopwatch ticked as Voldemort actually started sweating.

            "Um…er…uhhhhhhhh…" Second after second ticked away as Voldemort thought and thought. Fifteen…ten…. five…. four…. three…. two…. one…

            "I DON'T KNOW!" Voldemort finally screamed. Harry's smile grew even wider. No cows were affected as a result.

            "He went to Johns Hopkins, Voldemort. I believe that you just lost."  Voldemort, who had been crying quietly, got an incredibly evil look in his eyes. He grabbed for his wand.  Harry gulped.

            "Come, Harry…you didn't think I'd let you live, did you? After all, I brought you here to kill you. I'd decided to kill you if I won anyway. And you should realize by now that I'm a sore loser." His eyes glittered with malice and evil as he moved closer to Harry.

            "Voldemort, STOP!" a voice rang out. Voldemort turned to find Albus Dumbledore and a group of Hit Wizards from the Ministry of Magic standing there with their wands pointed at him.  Voldemort simply kept smiling, pointing his wand at them.  No one moved until another voice rang out.

            "Locomotor Mortis!"   Voldemort stiffened as he was put in the Full-Body Bind. He fell to the ground face down, stiff as a board. Harry stood behind him, smiling and putting his wand away. He knelt and rolled Voldemort over.

            "Tom? Buddy? Remember that episode where Bart kept Sideshow Bob busy by having him sing the score to H.M.S. Pinafore?  Suffice it to say that you've just been tricked in the same fashion."  A look of pure hatred and evil rose in Voldemort's eyes, but that was about it.  The Hit Wizards picked Voldemort up and simultaneously Disapparated with him.

            Harry fell to the ground as soon as Voldemort was gone. Dumbledore was immediately at his side.

            "Harry? Are you ok?"

            "Yes, I'm fine…but I have to tell you, I was incredibly nervous when he was coming toward me. I didn't know if I'd given you enough time to track me down." Dumbledore smiled.

            "You almost didn't, Harry…it took me nearly all night to do it." Harry felt even weaker as he realized how close he'd come to dying.

            "Now, Harry…I simply must know how you managed to keep Voldemort busy all night. And who, pray tell, are Bart and Sideshow Bob?" Harry grinned as he got up.

            "Well, Professor, have you ever heard of the Muggle TV show "The Simpsons?"

The End

(A/N: Y'all know the drill. Read and review please!)