20. RALPH

JK Rowling and Matt Groening own these characters. * = italics. Also,I think I might be

taking some unintentional liberties with the layout of the town.

If anyone sees any glaring errors,please let me know.

One thing Hagrid remembered best about his childhood was music.

Wild,beautiful music that made giants dance,shaking the earth in

their revelry. None of them could play the piano,of course. The

keys were too small for their fingers. When it came to the harp,

however,giants were masters. Wind instruments,too,of course.

Several of his friends went on to form a grindcore band called

Juggernaut.

In the cool shadow of the hut,Hagrid played the flute for Harry.

Some of the melodies he played had never journeyed beyond the the

lands of his people. He had no problem sharing them with Harry.

After being locked up by those idiot Dursleys,

Harry needed this; music,friends,the simple ability to be himself.

If Hagrid ever saw Vernon Dursley again,it would take every ounce

of his self-control not to yank his intestines out and

use them for anthropomancy.

He came to the end of another tune. "How'd yeh like that?"

"It was beautiful,Hagrid."

"Oh...hey,are yeh hungry?"

"Yeah."

Hagrid gave Harry what looked like a long sandwich. He had one for

himself.Of course,after one bite,it was almost gone.

"They're called cheesesteaks," he said. "Not bad."

Harry took a bite. "It's good," he said. As he chewed,he asked,

"When the exchange is over-"

"Monday mornin'," Hagrid said.

"Did you say we're going to study...duppies?"

Hagrid's eyes went wide. "Not on yer life,mate. Too dangerous."

Harry was probably glad he drew the line somewhere.

"What's a duppy,Hagrid?"

"I wouldn' mess with duppies,yeh paid me,Harry. They're ghosts,is

what they are. Not animals. Last time I was in Jamaica,guy I met

in a bar tried unloadin' a duppy on me,I got out quick. 'E was a

known *obeah* man."

"What's an *obeah* man?"

"A magic doctor,kinda. Yeh pay 'em to summon the duppy and yeh

gotta pay 'em more to remove it."

"Why are they so dangerous?"

"Yeh get the *obeah* man ta summon 'em with a ritual,right out of

the grave,and they're bad-tempered,so they'll do whatever yeh want.

See,they're made of the darker emotions of humanity. You put 'em

in an enemy's house and they...well,they put the lady of the house

in some real dire straits and she winds up givin' birth ta...well,

things that ain't human...I don't wanna expose anyone at Hogwarts

to anythin' like that."

"Then we're not studying duppies-I must've heard you wrong."

Hagrid smiled,which always put Harry at ease.

"I guess yeh did. I said DOBBY,not DUPPY."

"We're going to study Dobby? I know all I want to know about

Dobby."

"Not jus' Dobby,Harry. Elves. We're studyin' elves."

"Oh," Harry said. "Okay."

Hagrid chuckled,and ruffled his hair.

Another silence fell; it wasn't as if they had nothing to say to

each other,but when Harry was silent,Hagrid let him think.

Harry dropped his head against Hagrid's shoulder.

Hagrid wrapped his arm around Harry.

*Do you remember,Harry? Do you remember me holding you in my arms

that night,with the wind screaming at our backs?*

Then:

"Hagrid?"

"Yeah?"

"We...we would have met even if-" He didn't have to say

'my parents hadn't been murdered' and Hagrid didn't expect him to.

"Course we would've," Hagrid said.

"Good."

"Harry?" Hagrid asked,the next time he spoke.

"Yeah?"

"I made yeh somethin'."

"You did?"

"A quilt. Knitted it m'self."

"Hagrid-"

"I know about yer nightmares," Hagrid said. "I know yeh're still

in pain,and I don't want yeh to be. I hate when yer sad. I can't

magic all yer sadness away-hell,it's part of bein' a teenager-but

yer not just sad,Harry,yer soul's in anguish." Tears fell down his

cheeks. He couldn't help it. His voice started to crack. "I love

yeh too much to watch yeh suffer. The quilt I made...it's loaded

with magic."

"It is?"

Hagrid wiped his eyes clear. "Yeah." He got ahold of himself.

"Yeah. With natural magic. Real powerful stuff. Me and Professor

Sprout enchanted it."

"Professor Sprout,too?"

"She thinks the world of yeh,Harry."

"For awhile,I thought she hated me."

*"Why would I hate you,dear?"*

*She sat down beside him.*

*"I was sure you hated me."*

*She didn't have to ask why. Cedric. The boy blamed himself.*

*"I don't hate you at all." she said,gentle,almost whispering.*

She handed him a handkerchief. For a moment,she held his hand

in hers.

*"I could never hate anyone named Potter," she said.*

*The greenhouse walls vibrated with their laughter.*

"She told me."

"I like Professor Sprout,Hagrid. But what happened to Madame

Maxime?"

"Me and Olympe'll always be friends,Harry. Nothin' else. I got most

of the teachers to put a bit of magic in it,Harry. Dumbledore,

o'course. Professor McGonagall. Most of 'em."

"Except Snape,I'll bet."

"No,Snape thought it was for Fang. Yeh know Snape's a complex man,

Harry. But e's not a monster. Only teacher I didn't get was

Trelawney."

"She probably didn't see the point," Harry said. "I think she-"

Above their heads,a rush of wings split the air.

Then Fawkes landed with his usual grace,right in front of Harry.

"Fawkes," Harry said. "How'd you get here?"

Fawkes hopped into Harry's lap.

As Harry petted Fawkes,Hagrid played a few notes on the flute.

Fawkes sang them back. The bird fascinated Hagrid; he was

Professor Dumbledore's beloved pet,so Hagrid naturally loved him.

He could sense that Fawkes liked him. He had healed Hagrid's

shoulder after an accident with a Hungarian Horntail and from

then on,he and Fawkes-

The three o'clock bell rang.

A minute later,Bart Simpson burst onto the playground,a strange

board with wheels under his arm.

"Hey,guys." Bart said.

"Hey there,Bart," Hagrid said. "What'd yeh have to write today?"

"'I Will Not Tell Substitute Teachers About The Pool On The Roof.'"

Hagrid laughed like crazy; Harry laughed a little.

Harry stopped long enough to point at the board.

"That's a skateboard,isn't it?"

"Sure is," Bart said. "Haven't you ever ridden a skateboard?"

"I ride a broom," Harry said.

"A broom?"

"Sure."

"Is it difficult?"

"Is riding a skateboard difficult?"

"Hell,no."

"Will you teach me?"

"Yeah. I mean,it can't be any harder than riding a broom." Then

he noticed Fawkes. "Wow..."

"Bart,this is Fawkes."

"Hey,Fawkes," Bart said.

Fawkes flew onto Bart's shoulder.

"I think he likes yeh," Hagrid said. "Can we walk yeh home?"

"Yeah,why not..."

They walked around to the front.

Professor Dumbledore was there,on the front steps,talking to

Principal Skinner. Bart wondered how old Professor Dumbledore was.

When the old man moved,he glided down the steps. He was obviously

very old, but he didn't move like he would be checking into the

Springfield Retirement Castle. Bart had seen enough movies to know

that Professor Dumbledore obviously had totally badass powers that

he chose not to show off. There was an energy surrounding him,a

warm,friendly heat that made Bart feel at ease. Bart usually wound

up taking advantage of people like Dumbledore,but this time,he had

a feeling that Albus Dumbledore was a man who would easily see

through his most,as Dad might say-though most likely he probably

wouldn't-sophistimicated machinations. Plus,as soon as Fawkes saw

Dumbledore,he left Bart's shoulder and settled on Dumbledore's

outstretched arm.

"Cool," Bart said. "Lisa said you had a phoenix,but this-"

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Fawkes amazes me daily."

He smiled down at Bart,and Bart swore his eyes twinkled.

"Bart...may I ask you a few questions?"

"I swear, I didn't-"

"No,no,you're not in any kind of trouble. May I walk with you?"

"Sure. Hagrid and Harry were walking me back."

Dumbledore walked with Bart; Harry and Hagrid stayed close behind.

"Will your sister be joining us?"

"Nah. She's probably already home."

Professor Dumbledore nodded.

For a while,they walked together,in silence. Professor Dumbledore

took in the sights,although it was obvious he was a worldly,

intelligent man who'd probably seen a hundred towns like

Springfield.He even started to hum to himself; it wasn't a tune

Bart recognized.

As they waited for a Walk/Dont Walk sign to change,Dumbledore

cleared his throat. Bart looked up at him to find the elderly

wizard looking down; they locked eyes. Bart had never felt such

power.

"Bart...are you familiar with Ralph Wiggum?"

"...Ralph?"

"So you are," he said as they crossed the street.

"Yeah,kinda. We hung out a while ago..."

"Did you ever notice...anything out of the ordinary?"

"Professor Dumbledore,the sign just changed to DON'T WALK," Harry

said. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Don't worry,Harry,just keep going. How about it,Bart? Does Ralph

ever do anything strange?"

"Besides everything? Professor,Ralph's a weird kid. I know that

might sound mean-"

"No,no,Bart...that's just fine. Although I do hope you got to know

Ralph when you,as you say,hung out with him."

"Yeah," Bart said. "I...uh...did."

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"There might be."

Dumbledore knelt in front of Bart and looked him in the eyes again.

"Bart,if there's something you know,tell me. Please."

Bart looked at his feet.

"I know how much Ralph likes fire," Dumbledore said.

Bart looked up again. "You won't think I'm lying?"

"Nothing you could say would surprise me."

Bart mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"A leprechaun," Bart said.

"A leprechaun?"

"He said he saw a leprechaun and it told him to set stuff on fire."

Dumbledore nodded slowly.

"You KNOW about the leprechaun?"

"I saw it," Dumbledore said. "It didn't want me to,but I saw it."

"Whoa. What-"

"I'll let the expert handle your questions. Hagrid?"

"Bart,yeh don't see a leprechaun 'less it wants ta be seen. Yer sure

he said 'leprechaun' and not 'cluricaun'?"

"I'm sure."

"Good. See,leprechauns love playin' tricks. Yeh've heard the story

about the guy who found the leprechaun's gold?"

"Nope."

"He found the leprechaun in the forest,and made him take the the guy to a place where he'd buried 'is gold. It was at the base of a tree, so 'e tied a red rag to a branch on the tree so he'd know where to

look. He went home ta get a shovel...guy was gone maybe two minutes,

and I bet yeh can guess what happened when 'e came back."

"There was a red rag tied around every tree in the forest."

"Ten points to Mr. Simpson," Dumbledore said.

"Leprechauns are smart little buggers. Ornery,too. They're also known as lurachmain, lurican, lurgadhan and a bunch of other names,

dependin' on the regional dialect."

"Do leprechauns like starting fires?"

"They make shoes," Hagrid said. "What Ralph has sounds like a real

disgruntled leprechaun."

"What does it want with Ralph?"

"Dunno,Bart."

As he said that,they passed a large,stately building. There was

a sign out front which read SPRINGFIELD RETIREMENT CASTLE.

"My grandpa lives here," Bart said. "Do wizards have retirement homes?"

"No," Dumbledore said. "We don't. Age affects us differently,Bart."

"Yeah," Bart said. "You seem so old...no offense-"

Dumbledore just smiled. "I had a friend named Nicolas who lived to be six hundred and sixty seven."

"Cool," Bart said. "He had a six hundred and sixty sixth birthday."

"His wife-"

"Baaaaaaaaaart..."

"Did you hear that?" Bart asked.

"Sounded like the wind,calling your name. Of course,it could be a

wendigo."

"What the hell is a wendigo?"

"You saw THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT,didn't you?"

"Yeah," Bart said. "I thought it was stupid."

"It certainly did witches a disservice. The characters were killed

by a wendigo,or as some call it,a trickster."

Bart looked over his shoulder. "It's just my grandpa."

Grandpa lurched across the lawn,trying to keep his glasses on and

his pants up. Or maybe it was the other way around. In either case,

he looked panicky.

"Bart,you gotta take me home!"

"What? What is it?"

Grandpa danced from one foot to the other. "They're fixing the TV

and we can't watch anything and it's almost time for MAAAATLOCK!"

"Whoa. Okay,c'mon home,Grandpa. Professor Dumbledore,this is my

grandpa, Abraham Simpson."

"Albus Dumbledore," he said. The two men shook hands.

"Over there,the big guy is Hagrid and that's Harry."

In no time at all,they turned onto Evergreen Terrace.

"...Well,it was 1948,or thereabouts,and people were making a

fashion statement all across the country by wearing prosthetic-"

Grandpa had been droning on for a minute; it only broke when he

reached the sidewalk. Then he dashed towards the house,beat his

fists upon the door,and dashed inside when Mrs. Simpson opened the

door.

"I better make sure he's okay," Bart said,breaking from the group."C'mon in if you want."

Bart disappeared inside the house. As the door closed,the

front door of the house next door opened. A man rushed out,

brandishing a crucifix. He wore wire-rimmed glasses,a fuzzy green

sweater and freshly ironed slacks. "Witches!" he yelled; he had a rather nasally voice. "You ding-dang-doodly-don't belong here-"

"Really,sir." Dumbledore said; if there was one thing he loved,i

it was being polite to the exceedingly rude,or in this case,angry.

It got Lucius Malfoy every time. "I'm not a witch. I'm a wizard."

"Well,what about these two?" He waved the crucifix at them.

Dumbledore took it from him. "You could hurt someone with this.

Hagrid is not a wizard. Harry is my student. We are not evil,

as you may have been led to believe."

"Yeh're Ned Flanders,aren't yeh?" Hagrid asked.

"How'd you know that?"

"Homer mentioned yeh a few times."

"Oh. Well,uh...excuse me."

He ran back towards the house-"Rod! Todd! Put the holy water away..."

and slammed the door,leaving the trio outside on the sidewalk.