Chapter Ten

Soon enough, Halloween arrived. In the interim, Gemma's predictions had come to pass; the older students had stopped doing Draco's bidding and even the blond himself had largely stopped insulting Bart. Instead, he usually threw Bart dirty looks, which Bart would invariably respond to with his inimitable smirk.

Draco's mood mustn't have been helped by the fact that the other houses caught wind of his humiliating duel with Bart, so he was also subjected to giggles and points while he was roaming the corridors with his posse. Although Bart exchanged few words with Harry or the other Gryffindors, he couldn't help but take pleasure whenever they levelled mickey-taking jibes at the conceited ponce.

"Hey Malfoy, no wonder you chickened out of our duel; every time you have one, you look like the try-hard that you really are!" Bart heard Ron sneer one day, to Harry's predictable amusement. "How does it feel to be beaten by a Muggleborn?"

Dra-goon challenged them to a duel? Was that why they were on the third floor that night? Bart wondered.

Bart saw the Weasley twins join in the fun by melodramatically staggering around when they saw Malfoy in the Great Hall, as if struck by Locomotor Wibbly. They then explained, "Sorry Malfoy, just suffering from a bout of Loser's Lurch. It must be contagious because we seem to get it whenever you show your ugly ferret face." Being the consummate coward, Malfoy glared at them but did not dare to try and curse them given how out-numbered he was.

Additionally, he had received a letter from Marge. Upon reading it, Bart was relieved that Homer hadn't yet obliterated Springfield via a nuclear meltdown. However, the family still got caught up in crazy escapades.

Ever the showman, Homer briefly replaced Sideshow Mel as Sideshow Homer on Krusty's show. Homer's showmanship and willingness to put himself through any kind of abuse, including getting shot at with cannonballs, excited children everywhere in Springfield, but Krusty felt that Homer would eventually usurp his position and so fired him, on the pretext that Homer's beard, which apparently only Krusty could see, was too long.

Marge and Lisa, meanwhile, had taken to looking after Incest Spuckler, after the boy had fled from his family's filthy living conditions. Unfortunately, both were soon put off by the young lad, not just because he didn't like to shower or shampoo his hair more than once a month, but because of his…peculiar dietary habits. Indeed, his favourite dish happened to be chopped and fried skunk with boiled gumboot leather on the side. When Gemma read this, she was horrified.

This boy behaves like a particularly rabid werewolf – at least normal werewolves shower regularly and don't eat leather for lunch. And Muggles think that we're freaks? What sort of braindead parent names their child 'Incest' anyway? Gemma thought, her desire to have Bart spend as little time in Springfield as possible intensifying as she read his letter.

When Bart saw her aghast expression, he sought to reassure her. "Don't worry, Gemma. Freaky things keep happening in Springfield, so I'm used to hearing about this sort of stuff. If you think Springfield's bad, half the neighbouring town is inbred because…OK, maybe that was too much information", Bart admitted upon witnessing Gemma's look of growing horror.

Unfortunately, other issues had rendered the interim period less than pleasurable for Bart. For one, Professor Snape had taken to watching him like a stalker would their crush. Indeed, the Potions professor was monitoring him so intently that he had even laid off Harry to a certain degree, which might have gratified Harry but did little to improve Bart's disposition. Professor Snape's unwanted attention, plus Bart having the perennially accident-prone Neville as a partner, turned Potions into an ordeal wherein Bart's cool head and quick thinking constantly averted disaster, much to the sour sorcerer's disappointment.

Dumbledore must be putting him up to it, Bart thought, as he frequently saw the two eyeing him during the various feasts in the Great Hall. If they were chicks, I'd assume that they were attracted to me. Luckily they're not, otherwise I'd have to live with being crushed on by old, ugly chicks, he thought before shuddering. He surreptitiously brought them to Gemma's attention but Gemma merely told him not to concern himself with them.

Making matters worse was the mountain of homework he received from teachers, which he found far more burdensome than that given in Springfield Elementary. Much to his chagrin, Daphne and Tracey, who as promised sat next to him in class, at one point kindly informed him that he could not answer the question, "Why is it important to perform firm, decisive wand movements when transfiguring objects?", with the flippant, "It's not, because I don't need a wand to transfigure stuff."

Additionally, despite his best endeavours Bart had enjoyed limited success mastering the spells in Buddhist Combat Magic. Initially, he had tried to transfigure blades instead of learning said spells, but he quickly realised that he couldn't make them sharp enough, nor could he banish them quickly enough to penetrate the dummies he was practising on. Hence, after much practice, involving conjuring blades that dissolved or fragmented immediately after being cast, Bart finally managed to cast the basic tantō, or dagger.

Owing to his cursory knowledge of Japanese, Bart had little difficulty getting the pronunciation right. However, he quickly discovered that solid blades were much trickier to aim than regular spells due to their greater weight – one spectacularly misplaced casting attempt wound up lodging itself, not in the chest of the dummy directly facing him, but in the crotch of the dummy well to the right. He eventually improved his aim after much painful trial and error, but he still lacked his usual pinpoint precision.

Damn, I hope I don't need to use that spell any time soon, Bart thought with uncharacteristic weariness.

On Halloween morning, the school feasted on some sumptuous pumpkin bread.

I didn't think you could ever make pumpkin taste delicious. How wrong I was, Bart mused.

After that, the Slytherins had transfiguration. Apparently the object of the lesson was to transfigure a mouse into a matchbox. As Professor McGonagall was explaining how to do so, she discovered that Bart had already transfigured the mouse.

"Simpson! Have you already transfigured your mouse into a matchbox?" querulously asked Professor McGonagall.

"Yes, indeedy", Bart responded, with Daphne scowling at his irreverence.

"But I haven't even finished teaching the class the incantation! Can't you at least wait until after I've done that?" the tall witch sputtered.

"Waiting seems pretty pointless to me. I mean, it's not like I need a wand to transfigure stuff", Bart dryly noted.

"Mr. Simpson, my job is to teach this content. Your job is to learn it", the professor pointedly countered.

"But obviously I've already learnt it, since I've already done – OW!" Bart yelled, as Daphne kicked his shin from underneath the table.

"I don't usually approve of students kicking one another, but in this case I thank you, Miss Greengrass", the black-haired professor sighed, as Bart scowled at a smirking Daphne and the rest of the class snickered.

"Remember what I said about not behaving like a complete prat towards teachers, Bart?" Daphne smugly asked, to which Bart's scowl increased.

Bart's mood would not improve, for Professor McGonagall split everybody into pairs. Unfortunately, as the odd man out, this meant that Bart was paired with the professor herself, who insisted that Bart perform the incantation. Because he didn't wish to spend much time with her, he held his wand to the left and did so.

"Well, wasn't that a complete waste of time?" Bart snarked.

"No, because you have shown that you can correctly perform the incantation, Mr. Simpson. 10 points to Slytherin for being able to transfigure a mouse into a matchbox without a wand – and 10 points from Slytherin for your smart mouth", Professor McGonagall replied with a flicker of a smirk.

Bart briefly scowled at this but noted, "Well, at least I didn't call you 'Mrs. Skinner' this time. Isn't that an improvement?"

"I noticed Mr. Simpson; otherwise I would have given you a detention as well", the professor dryly noted with another momentary smile.

Bart looked around and noticed that only Daphne had been able to transfigure her mouse into a matchbox. Well, at least I'm doing better than these losers, Bart thought to himself. Nonetheless, he was still eager to put as much distance between himself and the professor as possible after the lesson ended.

Upon entering the Great Hall, Bart absorbed the sight of a thousand live bats swooping over the tablets, creating low black clouds that partially obscured the thousand live bats fluttering from the ceiling and walls.

Wow, this has got to be the coolest thing I've seen since I've been here, thought an awestruck Bart. Maybe I can keep one as a pet, Bart thought as he summoned one towards him. Unfortunately, as soon as he did so, the bat vanished.

"No, you cannot keep them as pets, young Bart", an amused voice informed him from behind.

Turning around, Bart found himself face to face with the twinkling eyes and smiling countenance of Headmaster Dumbledore, at which point the young mage immediately avoided eye contact.

"But – how did they - ?"

"Magic, my dear boy", came the wizened wizard's enigmatic response. "Now, would you be so kind as to join the rest of your housemates at the feast?"

Bart complied and set down next to Gemma before tucking into his food. Some minutes in, a terror-struck Professor Quirrell bolted into the hall and informed the Headmaster that there was a troll in the dungeons before fainting.

A troll? Now this I have to see, Bart thought as he took advantage of the resultant pandemonium to disillusion and silence himself before dashing towards the dungeons.

Moments after he did so, Gemma and the tall, dark-haired male prefect assembled the other Slytherin first years, but she quickly realised that Bart was not among them.

Where's Bart – oh, bloody hell! He's gone to see the troll! Gemma realised, her skin turning ever more porcelain.

She turned towards the dark-haired prefect and told him, "Craggy, Simpson has gone down to the dungeons. Snape needs to be notified."

Unfortunately, when Prefect Craggy and Gemma looked around, the hook-nosed professor was nowhere within sight. Gemma cursed inwardly and realised that she would have to behave like a Gryffindor and chase after Bart with no backup. If she didn't, then Bart might well die; a terrible outcome for numerous reasons.

"Craggy, look after the firsties. I'm going after Simpson!" Gemma exclaimed as she ran towards the dungeons. As she did so, her mind was overwhelmed with strong, negative emotions. Rage because her best chance of increasing and consolidating her family's power was apparently happy to risk his life just to see a troll. Anger at the sort of idiot who would let a troll into a place full of schoolchildren. Finally, she also felt genuine fear for Bart's sake.

I've obviously come to care for Bart, beyond what he can do for me.

Initially, Gemma saw Bart as a means of eliminating or subjugating her enemies, thus strengthening her family's position. She had also felt anger and disgust over how Bart had been humiliated at the opening feast.

However, as she was running, Gemma realised that she had grown genuinely fond of the boy. Not just for his magical talents, but also because of his dry, witty, snarky sense of humour, remembering how many times he had made her laugh. She realised that he wasn't protecting Bart solely out of self-interest anymore, but also as a friend.

An actual friend – the concept was new to Gemma. She had formed plenty of acquaintances, associates and allies throughout her life, in a bid to improve her station and that of her family, but not friends per se. In Slytherin it was quite difficult to form genuine friendships, as opposed to allies or associates, because most everyone had some sort of self-interested agenda to push.

Making friends with Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs was out of the question – Slytherin's rivalry with Gryffindor was intense, while Hufflepuffs were generally too different from Slytherins. As for Ravenclaws, they were on cordial terms because both houses valued intellect to at least some degree, but Slytherin's dark reputation seemed to dissuade most Ravenclaws from actually befriending them. Conversely, Slytherins traditionally saw Ravenclaws as being relatively lacking in ambition outside of the academic realm.

The realisation that Bart had become her friend made her sprint across the corridors, shoving aside anyone who obstructed her. She wasn't letting a friend die if she could help it!

Meanwhile, Bart was running pell-mell towards the dungeons. As he did so, the air was suddenly rent with a high-pitched, terrified scream. Bart's eyes duly widened.

It's going to kill someone! he thought as he frantically turned the corner. After he did so, he saw Harry and Ron enter a nearby doorway. Realising that the troll was inside, he bolted after them, only stopping upon reaching the doorway. He gaped at what he saw.

True, he had not expected that the troll would win any 'Miss Universe' pageants, but he was nevertheless taken aback at just how revolting the creature was. It appeared to be twelve feet tall, with dull, granite grey skin. Its body resembled a boulder, with its tiny head, no doubt housing a miniscule brain, resembling a pea by comparison. Its legs were short and thick and it had two-toed feet with giant, protruding toenails. Rounding out the whole unpleasant package was a smell so pungent that it made Maggie's soiled diapers smell positively fragrant by comparison.

Seeing that the troll was advancing on Hermione, Bart peppered it with a volley of non-verbal spells before Harry and Ron could react, but that only made the beast turn and advance towards the three boys behind it.

Oh crap. It's obviously harder to take down than a normal wizard, Bart thought as the troll inexorably advanced closer, club in hand. Well, I didn't want to have to resort to this, but...

"Harry! Ron! Move aside! I'm taking down the troll!" Bart ordered.

"But it's –" Harry began.

"NOW!"

Taken aback by Bart's unusually forceful tone, the two boys complied, but not before Ron threw him an ugly look.

Ignoring Ron, Bart thought, this had better work, because otherwise it's goodnight Bart Simpson. He then readied his spell, flicking his left wrist sideways before snapping it forward in a perfect 45 degree motion and bellowing, "Tantō!"

His aim was true, for the resulting razor-sharp dagger plunged into the troll's leg at great velocity. Howling with pain, the troll fell backwards onto the ground with a thunderous thud.

Harry and Ron briefly gaped at the sight, but then demonstrated why they had been sorted into Gryffindor, as Harry ran past the troll to drag Hermione out of the danger zone while Ron yelled "Wingardium Leviosa!" The club suddenly floated out of the troll's hand and into the air, before turning over and smashing into the troll's head with breakneck force, knocking it out.

"Bart Simpson: Troll Hunter. Has a certain ring to it, don't you think?" Bart snarked.

The other three glared at him; Hermione was about to snarl in response but was beaten to the punch by Gemma, who had just entered the doorway.

"BART SIMPSON!" she bellowed.

Oh crap, Bart thought as the other three snickered. Before he could react, Gemma turned him around and shook him violently.

"Whatever in Merlin's name were you thinking, running off to see a troll? You could have been killed, you incurable idiot!" Gemma screeched.

However, before she could do anything else, there was a sudden slamming sound and loud footsteps, as Professors McGonagall, Quirrell and Snape burst into the room. The turbaned wizard duly fainted, much to Bart's amusement. However, his amusement was cut short by Professors Snape and McGonagall. The cloaked professor looked as if he wanted to make Bart eat his own entrails, while the witch's face conveyed quiet fury, with her piercing glare and whitened lips.

Breaking the silence, Professor Snape asked Gemma, "Miss Farley, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you have been supervising the other first years?"

Gemma sighed and responded, "I noticed that Ba-, I mean, Simpson, was not with the other first years and so I realised that he had gone to see the troll. I could not see any teachers around, and time was of the essence, so I ran after Simpson before he got himself killed."

Professor Snape raised his eyebrows. She was about to use Simpson's first name. Just how close are they? he wondered. Nonetheless, he accepted her explanation and replied, "Very well. I will discipline Simpson accordingly. You may leave."

Gemma nodded and left, but not before throwing Bart a scowl. Bart didn't respond; he didn't feel like provoking Gemma into transfiguring him into something horrible later on.

Snape briefly checked the troll, before turning to Bart and uttering, "Detention for recklessly endangering your life, Simpson. My office, 8pm tonight. You will again be cleaning cauldrons without magic."

"Gee, I didn't think that you valued my life that much", came Bart's bon mot, to which the middle-aged witch scowled and the three Gryffindor students gaped.

Snape bent over and hissed, "You're lucky that I haven't given you detention for the entire week as it is, Simpson. If you talk to me like that again, I will most certainly do so, so don't push it." He then stormed out of the room.

At that, Bart was left with no doubt that if he was in Gryffindor, Professor Snape would have given him two weeks detention out of spite.

Speaking of Gryffindors, their head of house saw the dagger and asked, "Who stabbed the troll?"

"I conjured a flying dagger, Professor", Bart obsequiously replied, buttering the professor up so she could give him maximal credit. He was picturing her recommending him for an award, naturally to be presented in front of the school so he could bask in all the attention. Unfortunately, he found himself most disappointed with her response.

"Well, take 5 points for Slytherin for that very impressive display of combat magic. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. Now you may leave for Slytherin's common room to finish your feast with the rest of your housemates; I need to have words with my fellow Gryffindors", she explained, turning to the others with a scowl.

Bart said nothing in response, merely nodding at the others before traipsing off to his common room. While walking, he thought to himself, so, how do I let everyone in the school know what I did? He then broke into a sly grin as he thought, Well, McGarnagle, I mean McGonagall, did say that all of Slytherin House would be in the common room, so why don't I get their attention first?

Bart entered the Slytherin Common Room to find it as packed as it had ever been, with everybody eating the food that had been sent from the feast.

Man, these house elves really know the meaning of room service, Bart thought as he stood on one of the empty chairs and wordlessly cast a Verdimilious charm into the air. True to his expectations, the resultant glowing green orb exploded in the air with a resounding bang, attracting the attention of everybody in the room.

"Get off that chair, Simpson, before I force you off", an older black-haired student ordered.

"Let him talk, Derrick", Gemma ordered. Derrick scowled at her, but he was predictably unwilling to challenge her. Challenging one of the best witches in the school would have been very brave indeed, and Slytherins were not known for their bravery. Gemma then nodded at Bart. Her expression indicated that she was still less than pleased with Bart, so he continued without delay.

"Did you guys know that I just took down a troll, using nothing but my wand and my wits?" Bart asked the room, to which he was met with a brief, shocked silence.

During the interlude, Daphne rolled her eyes and thought to herself, Here we go again. What did I tell him about behaving in a more subtle, thoughtful manner in front of other Slytherins?

Draco then ended the silence with a burst of anger.

"Oh stop leading us on Simpson, you filthy attention-seeking Mudblood. Trolls are hard for adult wizards to take down, never mind Mudblood first-years." Draco's protestations were met with a chorus of agreement from many of the other Slytherins, scowls from Gemma, Daphne and Tracey, and poker faces from Theo, Rachel, Millicent and Zabini. Another detention it is then, Malfoy, Gemma thought to herself.

"Do you think that moi, Bartholomew Simpson, is merely spinning a yarn to toi, Draco? Well, let me show you the spell I used to bring it down", Bart replied as he once again flicked and snapped his wand forward in a 45 degree motion before yelling, "Tantō!"

The dagger flew over the rest of the students at something approaching Mach speed before landing smack bang on the snake's head located just above the fireplace, at which point every student bar Daphne, Tracey and Gemma gaped. Daphne and Tracey merely scowled at each other, while Gemma placed her hand on her chin and became lost in her own thoughts. Hmmm…he must have gotten that spell from one of those old spell-books. It must have taken him quite a while to get that spell right, because casting solid objects from a wand is really difficult. Even I haven't fully mastered it. I'll have to ask him exactly where he got that spell from…

Bart cast yet another Verdimilious charm to get the room's attention before finishing his tale.

"Once I brought the stupid freak down, I levitated his club over his head, just like this cup right here", Bart explained as he wandlessly levitated a cup of pumpkin juice over Draco's head, "and brought it ALL THE WAY DOOOOOWWWWWWWN!", he shouted as the cup tipped its contents onto the blond before smacking him right on the bonce.

The room erupted in laughter at the blond boy's misfortune as he hollered, "You'll pay for that, Simpson!" before storming off with his posse.

"And so, that ends the tale of how the heroic Bart Simpson brought down a troll", Bart concluded with an extravagant bow, before he stepped off the chair, surreptitiously swiped a sausage roll and departed for the dungeons in order to serve his detention.

Amidst the resultant murmuring, one student asked, "Hey, where did my sausage roll go?"

After checking the common room for hidden students, Bart slumped into a chair in a bid to regain some energy after another arduous detention. In fact, this detention was even less pleasant than the last; not only had Professor Snape not forgiven him for his earlier wisecrack, but the older wizard appeared to be in great pain as a result of an injured leg. The pain worsened his already naturally abrasive disposition and he took it out on Bart, constantly needling him for not scrubbing hard enough.

The day I never have to see that bitter bastard again will be one of the best days of my life, Bart ruminated sourly. As he did so, Gemma entered and sat down next to him. Evidently, she was still fuming at his behaviour.

"You know Bart, I still feel like turning you into something unpleasant for chasing after the troll like that. Forget about getting yourself expelled; you almost got yourself killed! I can't believe that I'm asking you this, but how can you expect to become a great wizard if you're six feet under before you turn 12?

Even worse, you go and re-enact your encounter with the troll in front of the entire house! Bart, these things have a way of getting around the school - and the results might not be what you expect."

So? I want stories about myself to spread around the school, Bart thought, but he didn't want to provoke Gemma. As such, he shuffled guiltily in his seat and looked at her with wide, puppy-dog eyes before responding, "I'm sorry, Gemma. I won't do those things again."

Gemma wasn't sure how sincere he was being – she recognised that puppy-dog look because she herself used it as a child to ingratiate herself to various important people – but she let it slide.

"Apology accepted, Bart. Obviously I should have made this clear earlier, but it's not the Slytherin way to just recklessly rush into situations. That's more of a Gryffindor thing, so if you want to fit into Slytherin and avoid unpleasantness, I'd recommend not doing it."

Bart nodded but then asked, "But…let's just say that I do happen to accidentally find myself in trouble – how do I contact you?" From his perspective, in such a circumstance it would certainly be handy to have a skilled witch like Gemma on call.

"Actually Bart, I'm glad you asked. I've actually been working on a charm which will allow us to communicate. I experimented with various items, including coins, but I eventually settled upon using these pieces of parchment, because you can't write on coins", Gemma explained, holding two pieces of parchment up before handing one to him. "I was going to show you later, when I was sure that I had perfected the charm, but obviously you have a knack for finding trouble so I've decided to test the charm out now. What you have to do is either write or transfigure your thoughts onto the parchment. When you do that, the other parchment will emit heat and so I will be able to read your message. Now, why don't you try it?"

"OK", Bart responded, wandlessly transfiguring a message. Gemma's parchment emitted heat, but when she read it she scowled before yelling, "LEARN TO FART?" at which point Bart laughed uproariously. He then calmed down and replied, "That's pretty cool. Seems like something I might learn, in case I have to communicate with my sister when she shows up at Hogwarts. What's the charm called?"

"The Protean Charm. Its incantation is Proteus. I picked it up from a book about communication charms. Be warned though; this charm is N.E.W.T level, which means that seventh-year students are expected to pick it up…so you may take a little while to master it. I mean, I've been working on it since I met you."

At hearing this, Bart fluttered his eyelashes and put his hands to his chest. "Aw Gemma, all this effort for little old me? I'm so very touched, my dear."

Gemma rolled her eyes before tersely explaining, "I did it out of necessity Bart, not looooove. It was pretty obvious to me that to help you become a great wizard, I would need to communicate with you as often as possible. I mean, if I can't communicate with you, then how can I help you?"

Bart nodded his head at that logic, being too infatuated with Gemma to question her motivations further.

"But what if I lose this piece of parchment, or it gets stolen?"

"It doesn't matter because the parchments are charmed so that only the original owners – you and I – can see what's written on them. If you lose that one, just come to me and I'll charm another one. So - where did you learn that dagger spell from, anyway?"

"Well, I was reading a book called Buddhist Combat Magic. You see, my sister's a Buddhist so I thought that it would be funny if I used Buddhist magic on her. I thought that the spells were all pretty cool so I learnt the easiest one, which was the dagger. Took me a lot of work to get right", Bart explained.

"I'm not surprised. By the way, here's some news that'll cheer you up – I gave Malfoy another detention for calling you a Mudblood in front of the entire common room. That should teach him to disparage you like that in front of me", Gemma gloated.

"I doubt it. He has about as much ability to learn from his mistakes as my Dad does. Honestly, I don't get why he was sorted into Slytherin."

"Well, as I've said, I frankly don't understand why most Slytherin students are actually in Slytherin, rather than in Hufflepuff or some such."

"Yeah – they're losers and Hufflepuff's a loser house, so Hufflepuff would fit them perfectly", Bart snarked, to which Gemma laughed.

"Come on Bart, let me escort you back to your dormitory", Gemma replied as they both opened the door and walked down the dormitory stairs.

Author's Notes for Chapter Ten:

Sorry for the wait between updates; I've been very busy.

Yes, the Spucklers actually have a child named Incest. See 'Yokel Chords'.

Bart picked up some Japanese when the Simpsons travelled to Japan. See 'Thirty Minutes In Tokyo'.

Craggy is named after Stuart Craggy, who was Slytherin's Quidditch Captain in the 1960's. It would make some sense if the elder Craggy had a son or daughter.

Canon has never made it clear as to just how resistant trolls are to spells. They are much taller than humans but also much smaller than giants, so they're probably in between the two in terms of spell resistance. So where giants would be very difficult to take down, trolls would merely be difficult. Giants can resist intermediate spells (stunners) quite easily, so trolls should be able to resist beginner-to-intermediate curses (which Bart was using) with relative ease.

The incantation Proteus is fanon. It's the root word for Protean.