Chapter Four
However, nobody within The Burrow was contemplating Lucius' revenge…except Willy Widdershins, who was chatting fervently with the headmaster inside a third floor bedroom. Given the curse books, dragon posters and Quidditch paraphernalia, the room was clearly Bill and Charlie's.
Willy was clearly stressed, since subtle shaking accompanied bloodshot eyes and bad breath.
"Mate, if Lucy's escaped, 'e can contact anyone 'round the world! You know 'e doesn't leave loose ends!"
The headmaster nodded.
"I know, Willy. That's why your residence is now Hogwarts, for their wards obviate any lethal curses. And also why you cannot leave the castle without my approval, or undisguised."
Willy grinned.
"I'm way ahead of ya there, mate!" chuckling while changing his hair and eye colour with Colovaria, before cutting his hair via Diffindo.
"A most satisfactory makeover, Willy", the headmaster observed as he eyed the younger man's wand.
"Why, your wand looks awfully long, Willy."
Willy grinned.
"Well, you know what they say, Albie! Long wand, long di – "
"WIDDERSHINS!"
"SEVVY!"
"Severus?"
The potions master took a deep breath.
"Yes, it is I."
"Why the change of heart, Severus?" the headmaster asked.
"Because I thought that doing you a favour would ultimately favour me", Severus sneered. "Additionally, I can develop my ability to mock the idiocy which pervades this place."
And Widdershins, you look surprisingly presentable, at least compared to a den of sleazy dive bar patrons."
"Thanks, Sevvy!" Willy replied, missing the back-handed compliment. "Are we mates, then?"
Snape sourly stared him down.
"Not for the next ten lifetimes."
Willy cocked his head.
"So you're saying that in the eleventh…there's a chance?"
"Only the deluded would agree."
"Severus!" the headmaster warned; his subordinate's snark becoming de trop for even patient souls like himself.
Severus hopelessly sighed.
"Very well. Let us bask in the noisy din downstairs", the hook-nosed man sarcastically replied as the trio traipsed to the kitchen…
Where Harry and Ron were engrossed in conversation while Ginny helped her mother cook.
"So you know that the Ministry pick us up from here tomorrow?" Ron asked.
"Yeah, Dumbledore told me. They're taking you, me, Bart, and Farley straight to Hogwarts, because since we've all supposedly beaten Voldemort, Sirius Black might want revenge. So I guess the rest of your family isn't coming?"
"Nah, Fudge doesn't care about Dad enough. Also, you're staying in my room."
Harry smiled gratefully before continuing the conversation.
"What about Bart and Farley?"
"Bill and Charlie's room."
"Fair enough. Anyway, Sirius Black was apparently talking about me being at Hogwarts. Still, I don't think he's gonna nick me on the train or anything…"
"No, but Fudge doesn't wanna take any chances, since you getting kidnapped would end his career, or so Dad says."
Harry snorted. "Like I need another reminder that I'm a celebrity."
Ron supplied a wan smile. He thought that he would enjoy celebrity, but he realised that not all attention was good attention. The hecklers, the autograph hunters…they caused him to get so absorbed in his own problems that he neglected his sister, who had nearly killed herself by confiding in a homicidal diary. He couldn't let that happen again.
Ron thus informed Harry that "Ginny's staying in our room."
Harry immediately understood why.
"Was she alright in Egypt?"
Ron sadly shook his head.
"Not really. She often had headaches or stomach cramps. She also went berko after Mum offered her mint lemonade with ice, and when Bill asked her to join him inside one of the pyramids. She'd later tell us that she doesn't know why she gets angry at that stuff."
Harry rubbed his chin. He was more perceptive than Ron, so he replied, "It's probably because those things remind her of Tom Riddle or the Chamber. Like, the mint lemonade would have been green, and pyramids are cramped spaces which contain dead things."
Ron looked nonplussed.
"So do we keep her away from Slytherins like Bart and Farley?"
"She knows that they helped her, so she should be OK with them. But I don't know about the other Slytherins. Depends on whether or not she knows them, I guess."
Ron nodded, picking at his Wizochoc before swallowing his pride.
"Harry, I need help with duelling."
"Why?"
"Because I was more useless than a Flobberworm in the Chamber! I mean, I landed on my face! Even in the first year, I only played half a chess game!
Please, Harry. I wanna help you!"
Harry couldn't refuse – not after seeing Ron's pleading look.
"Alright, Ron."
A distinct baritone then brought their conversation to a shuddering halt.
"If only you could show such dedication during Potions, Weasley."
"Professor Snape!" the two Weasley children gasped.
"I thought you weren't coming!" Harry exclaimed.
"Your thoughts are quite often wrong, Potter, as your Potions grades illustrate."
This afternoon might actually prove worthwhile, the hook-nosed man thought as he savoured Harry's furious expression.
Sensing an impending confrontation, the headmaster spoke up.
"Where's Miss Granger?"
Ron made a face.
"She's talking with Percy about how to become a Prefect, since they'll be sharing the same room tonight, anyway."
Harry's eyes narrowed.
"The twins haven't teased her, have they?" Harry sternly asked.
"Not really. They don't even blow things up as much anymore. They're definitely doing something in their room, but they don't want anyone to see it."
"Well, I'd say that behaving more like Percy would do those two a world of good", Molly snarled, annoyed at the twins' perennial misbehaviour.
Not that the twins cared, as they perfected their latest project.
"You looking forward to Dumbledore and Widdershins staying in our room?" George asked.
"Bloody right, I am. Widdershins might teach us some new pranks, and Dumbledore might tell us a gory war story", the slightly more savage Fred remarked.
The marginally more pensive George then froze in contemplation.
"Do you think the Lord would appreciate our craftsmanship, Fred?"
"I would hope so, George. After all, we've waxed ourselves off for hours!"
George chuckled at Fred's pun before he slipped into a state of contemplation.
"Do you think he's arrived yet?"
Fred cocked his head quizzically.
"Surely he would give us a sign, George? Wait, did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Fred inquired before he heard a humming noise…one which didn't recede. Au contraire, a roar replaced the hum, and the accompanying music outed the culprit.
"Swayin' to the symphonyyyyy…swaying' to the sym-phon-y OF DESTRRRUUUCTION!"
CRASH!
"That's the sign, George!" an excited Fred remarked as the twins fled their room.
And what a sign it was, for the living room resembled a warzone, with an upturned sofa, a shattered glass table, a splintered bookshelf, and a dust cloud which could have obscured a whole battalion.
The headmaster's wand hoovered up the dust, revealing a completely unsurprising culprit.
"Congratulations Simpson, you've done it again", Professor Snape sneered as he sarcastically applauded his least favourite Slytherin, while the twins unironically cheered.
A slack-jawed Bart stared back at him.
"A-am I Tom Cruise?"
"I suppose so, Simpson, since you cruised into a building. Pray tell, how much stupidity did that take?"
"Enough to ignore the 'COLLISION IMMINENT' warning", Gemma grumpily replied, stepping out before slamming the left door. "And I thought you could drive."
Bart clasped his chest.
"Hey, nobody's perfect, you know!"
"That doesn't mean that you crash into houses!" Gemma angrily replied, feeling like an aristocrat addressing a particularly dim-witted peon.
"CRASH INTO HOUSES?!" Molly yelped before seeing the carnage; her reddening face making her children feel like fleeing. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY LIVING ROOM?!"
Bart sheepishly scratched his head.
"IIIIIIIIII…kinda crashed into it."
"KIND OF CRASHED INTO IT?!" Molly roared. "I'LL GIVE YOU A CRASH!"
But the headmaster blocked her path.
"Molly, I can easily repair your living room. Bart, could you and Miss Farley please park your car outside?"
"Caaaaaaan do", Bart replied, the pair sliding into The Green Machine before backing out.
The headmaster then treated the others to a spectacular show, with wood meeting wood and glass meeting glass as he effortlessly repaired the room before adding a positively pristine touch via Scourgify.
Molly clapped her hands like an excited schoolgirl.
"Oh, thank you Albus!"
"It was my pleasure, Molly."
"It looks like our headmaster's outdone himself again, Fred", George observed from the stairs.
"Indeed George, but where's the anarchy? Where's the rebellion?"
Molly threw them a fiery look.
"Any more mention of anarchy and rebellion, and you two will clean the entire house!"
The twins shuddered.
"Very well, mother. We shall shelve such talk", George solemnly said.
"Shelve it forevermore", Fred promised.
"You'd better", Molly snarled before smiling at Harry.
"I'm sorry you had to see that, Harry. Would you and Ron like to follow Ginny and I into the kitchen? You two can have some Chocoballs."
Not wishing to test the matriarch's temper, Harry quickly nodded before leaving with Ron.
"Albus, where is our beloved caretaker?" Severus asked.
"In the bathroom, I believe. We'd best check on him", Albus replied.
"Yes, it would be such a shame if he drowned himself in the toilet", his subordinate contemptuously replied before they left the scene.
Gemma then walked in…and Percy and Hermione walked out, which amused the twins.
"Hey look, Fred! It's the Talking Heads!"
"Well, you know what they say, George! Two heads are better than one!"
"Yeah, they should really put their heads together!"
"Yes, that would be a heady sight."
"As would seeing you two shove your heads in a trough", Gemma drawled.
"Oooooh, good comeback!" the twins replied before laughing their heads off.
Gemma ignored them, instead regarding Percy and Hermione.
"Granger. Weasley."
"Farley", the two replied in unison.
"Congratulations on becoming Head Boy", Gemma uttered through gritted teeth.
"And you, Head Girl", Percy coldly replied.
Bart waltzed up to the trio while the twins watched.
"Hey Weasley, you plan on making more people miserable this year?"
The twins chuckled as the Head Boy stared Bart down.
"I won't dignify that question with an answer."
"Well, you just did", Bart flippantly remarked before eyeing the laughing twins. "Hey boys, had a good summer?"
"Yes, 'twas good, milord", Fred began.
"But now that you've arrived, it's just become a whole lot better", George continued.
"Because we have something to show you."
Bart's ears perked up.
"Really? Hey Gemma, wanna come with?"
Gemma thought for a moment. The twins' dreams and schemes didn't really interest her, but she was even less interested in gracing Percy's presence.
Language, Bart. "I'd be delighted to", she replied with smooth insincerity.
And so they found themselves in the twins' bedroom.
Ehh, I thought this room would look more interesting, Bart thought. For aside from the red and orange walls, the room looked surprisingly generic, with two beds, a wardrobe and a bedside table with a lamp and ghetto blaster…which Bart noticed.
"Hey, have you guys used that thing?"
Fred and George exchanged awkward glances.
"We have, our worship, buuuuuut…" Fred began.
"But?"
"Our mother took umbrage to the song 'Sex Action'."
"Said it was filth", George contributed.
"Did you tell her it was about Newtonian physics?"
"Yes, but she was…less than convinced", Fred admitted.
Gemma then wrinkled her nose.
"What's that smell?"
"Oh, just the byproduct of some products we've been testing", Fred replied.
"Otherwise known as smoke…you know, from explosions", George chimed in.
"Which we call boom-booms!"
"I'm sure you do", Gemma dryly replied. "Now, what lies behind that veil?"
"Something beyond your wildest dreams, my queen", George melodramatically replied as the twins circled around the veil.
Bart wrung his hands in anticipation, while Gemma was rapidly losing her patience.
"Hurry up, you two", she commanded. "We don't have all day."
"Of course, la reina", Fred drawled before drawing the veil back.
The two Slytherins couldn't believe their eyes.
There, made of wax, stood a sculpture…of Bart's buttocks.
"That's right, it's the ass that assailed Malfoy!" Fred stated.
"The butt that befuddled Malfoy!" George continued.
"The can that confounded Malfoy!"
"Belonging to…the Slytherin who socked it to Malfoy!" the twins finished as they theatrically pointed at Bart.
Normally, Bart would have been weirded out, since this was straight out of Mapplethorpe.
But because his ego had just ascended into another plane of existence, he simply enjoyed the tribute to his rear end.
"Lookin' good, boys…lookin' gooooood…hey, have you played that Three Stooges album?"
"Not yet, our Lordship. But we'll play it posthaste."
"You do that."
And they did, as menacing riffs and unhinged growls suddenly rent the air.
Yeah, this is real rock – not the lame ass shit that Homer listens to, Bart contentedly thought.
"By the way, you'll never guess who Percy's girlfriend is!" Fred exclaimed.
I can't believe anyone would be his girlfriend. "Ummm…it's not McGarnagall, is it?"
The twins chuckled.
"Nah, it's Penelope Clearwater."
Bart burst out laughing, while Gemma shook her head.
"Poor Penelope", she lamented.
Bart scoffed.
"Poor Penelope?! Pfft, those two are made for each other. In fact, they were probably brought together by the patron saint of poindexters!"
As the twins' laughed their heads off, Bart's thoughts turned to Lisa.
Wonder what Lisa's doing? Something uncool, I bet.
Lisa would disagree, as Astoria guided her around Greengrass Manor. Really, Astoria felt that she was obliged to, given the state of the Simpson residence.
Which was sad for Marge, since she kept the front yard spotless, cleaned the house and allowed Homer to attend the Annual Chili Cook-Off by himself, since at least he wouldn't embarrass himself in front of their guests.
Not that anything could have impressed Cyrus and Astoria, since Roxanne's work with Muggles gave her an eye for contemporary Muggle fashion.
So, rather than wearing completely unsuitable wizard robes, or outdated Muggle fashion ala Jake's old tweed jacket, Cyrus and Astoria evoked an old money vibe with their contemporary Muggle clothes.
For while Cyrus' green linen blazer betrayed his Slytherin heritage, his buttoned white shirt conveyed his moral virtues, including his care for his family and unwillingness to directly support evil causes. Meanwhile, his dark grey slacks signified his enigmatic, slippery and ultimately formidable nature.
Meanwhile, Astoria wore a classy but simple white tweed dress with light green patterns, signifying her outwardly innocent but secretly calculating nature.
When the pair observed 742 Evergreen Terrace, alongside the neighbourhood around them, they detected a distinct air of danger…and squalor.
An impression not helped by how the woman who answered the door was wearing a beehive.
Say what you like about wizards, but even they know beehive haircuts aren't contemporary, Astoria inwardly thought, her thoughts befitting her education. Given that many Muggles apparently fear wizards, it's funny that Muggles have their own eccentricities.
"How do you do, Madam?" Cyrus began before kissing Marge's hand.
"Ohhhh, such manners!" Marge gushed. "You must be the Greengrasses!"
The two purebloods almost winced – Marge sounded like a mermaid scraping her nails down a chalkboard.
But before they could dwell on such unpleasantness, a fully robed Lisa appeared. Hiding her hair was a pink Panama hat with a dark blue ribbon, while pink Mary Janes adorned her feet, each recoloured for the occasion.
Astoria smiled.
"Hello, Lisa."
"Hi, Astoria!"
Cyrus stepped forward and brushed Lisa's hand with his lips.
"My pleasure, Miss Simpson. I am Cyrus Greengrass, Astoria's father. But do call me Cyrus."
Lisa smiled.
"And please call me Lisa."
"And me Marge, Mr. Greengrass", Marge insisted. "Would everyone like a big bowl of strawberry ice cream?"
"No thank you, madam", Cyrus insisted. "I appreciate your hospitality, but we must depart."
Well at least nothing too insane has happened, Astoria thought, tempting fate while Lisa and Marge exchanged tender goodbyes.
"AAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"
The quartet nearly fell over.
What in Merlin's name was that? an appalled Cyrus thought as he and her daughter turned around – and saw a fat, bald man literally breathing fire as he screamed his head off, running from one end of the street to the other.
"HOMEY!" Marge exclaimed before turning to Cyrus and Astoria.
"He must have drunk the lighter fluid again", she sheepishly explained before running inside, grabbing the fire extinguisher, and pursuing her husband.
"Fascinating. I didn't know that human-dragon hybrids actually existed. You have a most interesting family, Miss Simpson", Cyrus remarked to Lisa, trying valiantly to conceal his contempt. I believe that wearing potato sacks would have helped us blend in better.
"Don't worry, Lisa. None of this is your fault", Astoria assured Lisa after seeing her friend facepalm in frustration. Now I understand why she seemed so impressed about me knowing what an inferiority complex was. I mean, I'd assume I was inferior just for being born here.
While Marge fired foam into Homer's mouth, the trio apparated.
Before she knew it, Lisa stumbled around like a drunk. After recovering, she saw a manor standing before her. Sure, Burns Manor was more ostentatious, but Lisa knew that seeing was not necessarily believing. These grounds obviously hid many secrets, and she wanted to uncover them. Not while betraying her friend's trust, however.
The wrought-iron gate's voice brought her back into reality.
"Please enter, Master Greengrass."
She then followed her two hosts inside, marvelling at the foxes and horses which traversed the lush green plains.
Oh wow, they have horses! Oh, this is every girl's dream! Lisa inwardly gushed before finding herself on Greengrass Manor's doorstep.
Roxanne greeted them before laying eyes on Lisa.
"And this must be Lisa! Astoria says that you're quite the academic! You can call me Roxanne!"
"Ah well…I try my best, Roxanne", Lisa bashfully replied.
"And so modest, too", Roxanne noted, her eyes showing only a hint of life. "Please come this way. Daphne, Tracey, would you like to meet our newest guest?"
Arising from the drawing room's Chesterfield sofa, the older Slytherin girls rose to greet Lisa.
"Charmed", Daphne began. "Do call me Daphne."
Lisa smiled before replying.
"And you can call me Lisa."
Tracey grinned.
"Hi, Lisa. I'm Tracey Davis, but please call me Tracey. Did you know that Bart visited last year?"
The Greengrasses gave Tracey a dirty look, while Lisa's eye twitched.
"My apologies. I shouldn't have mentioned him."
"Don't worry about it", Lisa replied, artfully hiding her annoyance. She didn't appreciate how she was still following in Bart's footsteps despite wanting to be her own person.
But she'd overcome such annoyance in good time, as Astoria began the guided tour.
Harry himself would happily have joined a tour, if it meant missing another altercation between Hermione and Bart.
As usual, the conflict began because Bart's behaviour was too impertinent for Hermione's tastes. And being a proud progressive, she found Bart's decision to play the song 'Girls, Girls, Girls' most impertinent.
"Friday night and I need a fight, my motorcycle and a switchblade knife, handful of grease in my hair feels right, but what I neeeeeeeed to make me tight are those GIRLS, GIRLS, GIRLS!"
Hermione's eyes narrowed.
"Long legs and burgundy lips!"
"Bart", she warily asked, her tone hinting at trouble, "what's this song about?"
"GIRLS, GIRLS, GIRLS!"
Bart shrugged.
"Ah, you know, girls. Lotta great girls out there. Gloria Steinem, Gloria Vanderbilt…uhh, that chick down at the Shell station…"
SLAP!
"You lying, sexist little…"
"Can you two please stop it?" an irritated Harry asked before leaning back on the sofa and chugging down a Butterbeer.
They're still fighting after two years. Honestly, if Ron can get along with Bart, then Hermione can, too. I mean, she's smarter than all of us, Harry thought, not recognising that rebels and rule-lovers could not co-exist without conflict.
Hermione huffed.
"Fine. But I'm telling Mrs. Weasley."
She then stomped out of the living room as Bart rubbed his right cheek.
"I don't think she's happy with you, milord", George dryly noted.
Bart rested his rear end on the table.
"Pfft, nothing new there. Talk about being born with a stick up your butt."
Before Harry could speak up, Percy stormed into the living room.
"What have you two done with my badge?"
Fred looked like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.
Speaking of sticks. "Badge? Why, I see no badge here. Do you George?"
George gave him a quizzical look.
"Badges? Or badgers? Because we don't see much of either here."
Percy closed his eyes as he valiantly tried to repress his anger.
"Very well. But if you're lying…"
"Then mother will express her displeasure", a bored George replied.
"Speaking of which…" Fred began as Molly stepped inside and began her interrogation.
"What have I said about playing that rubbish?"
"But it's a great feminist tribute!" Bart protested.
"Yeah!" the twins replied, happy that Bart took the heat off them.
Unfortunately for them, the song's lyrics told a different tale.
"I'm such a good, good boy, I just need a new toy…"
"HE JUST NEEDS A NEW TOY?!" Molly roared.
"Yeah, like a car!" Fred claimed.
"Just like dad!" George continued.
"Speaking of which, where is he?"
"Probably in the shed."
"THAT DOESN'T MATTER! TURN THAT GARBAGE OFF NOW!"
The twins turned to Bart, who casually flicked his wand and shot a stunner straight at the STOP button, stopping the song dead in its tracks.
"That's better", Molly growled before turning to Harry with a sweet smile.
"Harry, would you like to try my cupcakes?"
Eager to escape the toxic atmosphere, Harry obliged by jumping off the sofa and hurrying into the kitchen.
Hey, I'm a guest. Why aren't I invited? Bart angrily thought, but George spoke up before the spiky-haired Slytherin could object.
"May we have some cupcakes?"
Molly's expression turned stony.
"Only after you've collected your father."
"W-what about Bart?"
Molly stared expectantly at Bart, who suddenly decided that he didn't really want to be around her. Or Gemma, who was probably none too thrilled to have heard the song.
"Ehh, I'll help these guys out."
She smiled.
"You have such a heart of gold. I was wrong about you."
"Ah, it happens all the time", Bart replied with fake modesty. "By the way, is Professor Snape eating cupcakes?" Bart innocently asked, hoping for some blackmail material.
"No, he decided to leave after hearing that song."
Damn. "Fair enough. We'll be back soon."
"Of course", Molly replied before leaving the room.
Fred then nudged Bart before showing him Percy's Head Boy badge, which now read…
Head Bozo.
Bart chuckled.
But the family shed brought him no amusement, as after greeting Arthur, he laid eyes on the family's Ford Anglia.
Ugh, Harry was right, that is a heap of junk! "Where did you get the car?" Bart asked, trying hard to hide his bemusement. Looks like he took it off someone's front yard.
"I bought it from Honest John's car dealership. Very honest man, he was", Arthur replied.
Yeah, I'm sure. "Umm, does it actually run?"
"Yes, it runs on the magic the family gives it! It also expands, so it fits anything you put in there, trunks and all! Plus I've made it invisible, just like the Ministry's cars", Arthur explained with childlike amusement.
Eh, my car's still better. "What's with all the other stuff you're messing with?"
"Oh, these are Muggle devices that I've picked up here and there. For example, every Muggle household apparently has one of these", Arthur noted, picking up a telephone that was seemingly stolen from a Get Smart set.
Yeah, maybe back in the 60s. "Can it make international calls?"
Arthur looked astonished. "Muggles can do that?"
"It's kinda pricey, but yeah."
Bart then bit back a smile, as his mischievous mind was spurred into action.
"Hey, can I test that phone?"
Arthur would have refused if the twins made that request, but because Bart was a guest, he didn't bat an eyelid.
"Of course", he obligingly replied, as the twins tried not to laugh.
With his usual panache, the prodigy strode over before working the phone.
After a few seconds…
"Dursley residence, the man of the house speaking."
"Hello, is that the Chinese takeaway?"
"…what?"
"Is a Hugh G. Butt there?"
"…Hugh G. Butt?"
"You've got one!"
SLAM!
The twins burst out laughing as Arthur looked utterly dumbfounded.
"Dursley? Aren't those Harry's old guardians?"
"They sure are."
"B-but you can't bait Muggles like that!"
"Well, they treated Harry like crap, so they don't count."
Before Arthur could splutter in reply, Fred cut in.
"Father dear, mother has cupcakes in the kitchen."
And just like that, the ever-distractable Arthur…was successfully distracted.
"Why didn't you say so?" he asked, his face lighting up like it was Christmas Day. "Let's eat."
And eat they did, as a sweet strawberry taste hit Bart's tongue after he chomped the cupcake. He then pumped the headmaster for information.
"So Professor Snape went home, huh?"
"He certainly did, Bart", the headmaster replied as he savoured his sherbert lemon cupcake. "Professor Snape felt that the discourse had fallen below his high standards, so he retreated to Spinner's End to do something more constructive. Like twiddle his thumbs."
Eh, better there than here. "Are you leaving too?"
"Actually no, I'll relax by the pool."
Bart was briefly lost for words.
"Ummm…I'm pretty sure a pond isn't a pool."
"I wouldn't be so sure", the headmaster suggestively replied before striding out of the kitchen, leaving Bart and the twins with…Gemma and Hermione, who were giving them dirty looks.
Realising that they were this close to being cursed, the trio quickly followed the headmaster.
After stepping behind the main house, the headmaster saw a large, overgrown garden surround a dank, frog-filled pond.
He briefly considered his options. He didn't want to hurt Mother Earth, but the current habitat wasn't to his taste.
He thus pointed his wand at the pond, creating a swirling, twirling gust of wind which sent the frogs in all directions and scared the gnomes away, before flattening the resultant waterspout and cutting chunks from the surrounding earth with a Defodio.
As the pond water seeped into the gouged earth, the headmaster levitated and transfigured the chunks into cement slabs, which he then laid around the newly expanded pond before cleaning the murky pondwater with a powerful Mundus. He then swished his wand across his waist with maximum force, unfurling a Diffindo which cut down everything before him, including grass and trees. He then filled the newly constructed pool via Aguamenti Maxima.
He then threw a knut into the air before transfiguring it, causing the resultant giant floor cushion to plop onto the ground behind him.
While walking towards the newly constructed pool, Bart and his closest Gryffindor allies discussed how to disrupt the Sorting Hat's introductory song, which should have been forbidden by the Geneva Convention. Just after devising a plan, the trio stopped in shock as the headmaster, who was relaxing on a giant cushion, turned towards them.
"Boys, could you please inform the others about the pool? And do bring some Butterbeer."
Well, at least he wasn't naked, Bart thought as they obeyed his request.
A short time later, while the others were frolicking in the pool or engaging in pointless small talk, Gemma regally strode towards the giant floor cushion in a green two-piece bathing suit which accentuated her finest features. After claiming the cushion by sitting herself down and lying back, she saw a Butterbeer bottle lying in an icy bucket beside her. Feeling dehydrated, she reached for the bottle before…
KERPLUNK!
Before she could blink, she flew face-first into the pool as Fred, having jumped from a first floor window, landed on the giant floor cushion with a resounding thump before taking a massive swig of Butterbeer…and then turning to Gemma, whose eyes were filled with fire and lightning as stony silence reigned, with everyone awaiting Fred's reply.
"What?"
Which would have been Lisa's response had she known that Bart was simultaneously playing in a pool. For no matter Lisa's distance from Bart, she had been following in his footsteps ever since she had learnt that he was a wizard. She therefore spent considerable time mastering the first and second-year spells wandlessly – not just because she knew that Bart hadn't, but to thwart bullies who might take their anger with Bart out on Lisa.
As she was lost in her own sea of tranquillity, Astoria sidled up to her on another pool cushion.
"So, how do you find the manor?"
"Oh, it's wonderful!" Lisa gushed. "Your horses are so beautiful."
"Yes, we've had Thoroughbreds for several generations. We used to have more, but my grandfather sold some so he could protect our family from You-Know-Who. As such, we no longer race them."
Ever the activist, Lisa privately thought that was a good thing, since the horse racing industry didn't necessarily respect animal rights. At another time, she would have said so.
But alienating Astoria wasn't what she wanted, since alienation characterised her life. So she merely nodded before changing the subject.
"Why are so many of your spellbooks about negotiation, manipulation and staying hidden?"
"Because those qualities help us stay afloat. Our world can be a very dangerous place."
Lisa narrowed her eyes.
"So you use people to get what you want?"
Astoria considered her response very carefully.
"Only for mutual benefit. We dislike exploiting people, for eventually they will turn on you."
"And it's wrong."
"Yes."
Lisa nodded, but she was not certain that Astoria was fully sincere.
"Does that not happen in the Muggle world? Or No-Maj, as they say in your country."
"It happens all the time…but I just don't like seeing people being used as pawns."
"Neither do I…but my family only does what's necessary to survive. If we survive, we can move magical Britain in a more progressive direction. Otherwise, blood supremacists will hold sway."
"Blood supremacists?" Lisa asked, not liking where this was going.
"Yes. People who believe that purity of blood makes them better than the hoi polloi."
Lisa would normally have been impressed that Astoria used a word which was derived from Ancient Greek. But the subject felt uncomfortably familiar.
"Yeah…we have people who hate others for having a different skin colour."
Astoria looked thoughtful.
"Yes, we have those as well. Not so much in Britain, but in Magical South Africa."
Lisa looked disgusted.
"Ugh, the magical world has Apartheid as well?"
"The term is klassisme, where darker-skinned magicals are seen as Muggleborn, and thus lower class, unless they have a pureblood surname or are vouched for by purebloods. Lower class individuals are less likely to receive education, medical care, or even resources to clothe and feed themselves."
"That's terrible! But aren't the magical and non-magical worlds meant to be separate?"
"Yes, but in practice Muggles and wizards interact differently around the world. In South Africa, what apparently happened was that the South African Ministry of Magic had to negotiate with the Muggle government to remain separate, since their Muggles were known for putting down rebels. So the Ministry informally adopted supremacist policies."
"But can't wizards keep them off their territory?" Lisa asked, having read extensively about the Wizarding World before entering Diagon Alley.
"Yes, but they can't prevent Muggles from wiping them out. Even protecting a castle with shield charms requires several wizards, and they can be penetrated with enough effort."
"And No-Maj don't need to enter a place to destroy it", Lisa added with grim finality, remembering her days at Rommelwood Military School, where magic was largely useless.
"It seems that destruction and prejudice transcend magic", Astoria sadly observed. "But still, South Africa is reforming."
"Yeah, but it never seems to happen quickly or thoroughly enough."
"Because people enjoy conflict and suffering."
Lisa silently lamented that reality, a lamentation which Dostoyevsky would say was strengthened by her prodigal intellect and primal convictions. So she changed the subject.
"So what's Hogwarts like?"
Sirius Black could have answered that question, as he observed The Burrow from a distance. There was no chance of him being caught, even though the sun would soon show itself, for he was safely cloaked behind a bush.
He has to be inside – I saw him in that photo, and the youngest Weasley boy would still be attending Hogwarts. But how do I nab him without being noticed?
In truth, he felt bad about breaking into The Burrow – Arthur and Molly Weasley may not have joined the Order of the Phoenix, but they were still good people who fought Voldemort via any means possible, including by hosting emergency Order meetings.
His misgivings were rendered moot, however, when an old-fashioned dark green saloon suddenly appeared alongside six broomsticks – three behind; three in front.
Bloody hell, how am I meant to get him now? a frustrated Sirius thought as two Aurors exited the car and purposefully headed for the front door.
Aww, to hell with this! I'm going in!
And so he did, shifting into his canine form before charging across the field.
Not that the four students being escorted knew that, as someone knocked on the front door.
"That must be your escort", Albus surmised, gracefully opening the door before regarding the two Aurors before him.
"Ahh, Kingsley. Miss Tonks. How nice to see you two again."
Bart sniggered. Tonks? More like Bonks!
"Likewise, Professor!" Tonks gushed, with Kingsley Shacklebolt doffing his kufi before speaking in a calm but no-nonsense manner.
"Are the students ready?"
"We suuurre are", Bart smoothly replied before levitating his belongings out the front door. After stepping out, he spotted the ageing saloon.
"Wow, talk about old-school! You guys don't have newer cars?"
"No, since magical enchantments can prolong a car's service life", Albus explained. "Besides, no minister since the Muggleborn Nobby Leach has shown much interest in Muggle technology. I believe that he acquired some from the Muggle police just before he resigned, the poor man. What's the car called again, Kingsley?"
"Jaguar Mark 2."
"And are those Comet 260s?" Ron asked, barely hiding his bitterness about not being able to afford one despite his celebrity.
"Yeah, I've got one myself", Tonks noted. "They can travel long distances, too!"
Meanwhile, Sirius, who could also travel long distances, was lying prone behind the rear broomstick escort, hoping to rub out the rat on Ron's shoulder. He was so close to getting him – but also so far, for he couldn't take on a troupe of Aurors, never mind Dumbledore. Especially not with a wand that wasn't truly his.
Upon observing the four students standing at the doorway, he then realised something.
Wait a minute – these four are famous for beating Voldemort. So these guys are obviously providing security, just in case I try to kill them.
He found the idea laughable, especially since Harry was his godson, although admittedly he had killed Death Eaters before. And he hoped to kill another right now.
But then again…maybe that wasn't necessary. After all, the Weasleys were always in Gryffindor, so the rat would likely reside in Gryffindor Tower.
However, to access Gryffindor Tower, he first had to infiltrate Hogwarts, and bumming a ride with these guys seemed like the ticket.
But that required prompt action, so he cast a Muffliato around himself and aimed at the top of the Jaguar before closing his eyes and uttering the fateful words.
"Verdimillious Tria!"
BANG!
As pandemonium broke out, with the entire escort incapacitated by Sirius' stunt, Sirius removed the Muffliato before dashing towards the car, opening the trunk with an Alohomora Duo, and rolling inside before shooting a Silencio at the trunk door and slamming it down. He didn't concern himself with Colloportus; it would look too suspicious if the Aurors tried opening the trunk.
Instead, he transfigured himself into a spare tyre, because who would suspect a spare tyre? Certainly not the Aurors, who didn't bother investigating the trunk further after Kingsley's Homenum Revelio turned up nothing. Instead, after loading the trunk with student belongings, the broomsticks and the Jaguar took flight.
And so, Sirius' revenge plan was set into motion…
Author's Notes for Chapter Four
That chapter took much longer to complete than I would have liked, but at least it's done.
I did an about-face on Snape attending the party because his snark adds colour to proceedings.
RE Arthur securing a Ministry escort in canon, that doesn't seem very realistic, given Arthur's low rank and Fudge's apathy towards him.
Ron shows more character development: he wants to improve his duelling skills, he increasingly dislikes his celebrity, and he shows more concern for Ginny's wellbeing than he did in canon
Mint lemonade with ice = Ancient Egyptian drink
Ginny suffers from headaches, stomach cramps and inexplicable anger because the Forgetfulness Potion she took causes repressed memories. The other four had less traumatic experiences over the last year, so they don't have the same issues.
I'm surprised that Hermione and Percy never spoke about her potentially being a Prefect in canon - if anyone's Prefect material, it's Hermione. And the two have similar personalities. They should have been closer than they were.
International calls were quite expensive back in the early 1990s.
In practice, the British approach towards wizards would not always be appropriate. For instance, authoritarian regimes like the Apartheid South African government would likely not leave their magical community alone without some concessions. I specifically mention South Africa for reasons that will become clear later.
A Special Escort Group (SEG) belonging to the UK Police (equivalent to Aurors), escorts important personnel - they wouldn't let some randoms do it like in canon - they roughly line up in the outlined formation.
Tonks is half-blood; Kingsley blends well with Muggles - them knowing how to drive makes sense.
The Jaguar Mark 2 was used by the UK police during the 1960s and could have been acquired via police auctions. Also, if Arthur owns a 1960s car, there's no reason why the Ministry couldn't.
Comet 260s are 1980s brooms, equivalent to the BMW K100, which the SEG used in the early 1990s.
Mundus = Fanon for Cleaning Charm
klassisme = Afrikaans for 'classism'
Songs: Sex Action by L.A. Guns; Symphony of Destruction by Megadeth; Girls, Girls, Girls by Motley Crue; Down on the Street by The Stooges
Simpsons episode references
'Grampa vs Sexual Inadequacy': Mapplethorpe
'Lisa vs Malibu Stacy': Big bowl of strawberry ice cream
Monster King/bauers374: Thanks.
alexeie2006: You're welcome/we'll see if he can.
Eph: Thank you for the kind words. I'm glad my story provides a distraction from the drudgeries of daily life, and it's people like you who encourage me to continue this story.