Chapter Eleven
As Bart had predicted, the story of how he had allegedly single-handedly brought down a troll had spread to all crannies of the castle. He encountered widespread adoration and adulation – even the Gryffindors couldn't find reason to insult him. Indeed, students from far and wide wanted to shake his hand. Unfortunately, some were Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors – at them, he merely nodded his regards, heeding Gemma's advice to not openly ingratiate himself with them.
As for Harry, Ron and Hermione, they slipped him notes after Potions class:
Bart,
I'm not really happy for you taking all the credit for taking down the mountain troll. The four of us know that isn't true. But I am glad that the school is paying attention to you instead of me.
Still, the way you brought that troll down with that incredible dagger attack was really great! Not the usual first-year spell that one! If you weren't there, I'm not sure what might have happened, so thanks for saving our hides!
I've been telling Ron that Slytherins aren't all bad. Hopefully, this convinces him.
I wish there was a way we could keep in touch more easily, because we might need your help again.
Your friend,
Harry
Bart was legitimately touched by how Harry had called him a 'friend', despite the intense rivalry between the two houses. So much for Gemma's advice to stay away from Gryffindors, huh? A part of the spiky-haired boy wondered how much of her advice was truly correct.
The letters from Hermione and Ron were altogether more concise.
Bart,
I cannot thank you enough for helping to save my life. I still don't approve of your death-seeking tendencies, but maybe it is OK to embrace danger where the lives of others are at stake. I would just like you to be more careful about rushing into such situations, because beneath all the mischief you are a nice person with great magical potential. It would be a shame if you got in so much trouble that it overshadowed your potential.
Regards,
Hermione
Bart found Hermione's letter surprisingly conflicted. He had expected nothing bar a lecture about his tendency to rush into trouble, but instead she seemed to understand that maybe courting death was sometimes necessary if it assisted a greater cause, such as saving somebody's life. The letter was cordial, but without any connotations of friendship therein. At this point, Bart thought of her as an acquaintance who could be useful in certain situations, but not a friend.
Simpson,
I still think you're a slippery, slimy snake, and so I'm only writing to you because Harry asked me to, but you did good work down in the Dungeons. Just wish you gave me some of the credit.
Ron
This sour response cemented the impression in Bart's mind that Ron was basically Gryffindor's answer to Draco - insular, cliquish and prejudiced towards people outside his house. He needed to remain civil to Ron to remain in Harry's good books, especially since he planned to share some of Harry's fame, but it seemed that for the foreseeable future any cooperation between them would come only because Harry was involved, with much clenching of teeth.
The most notable adulation came when the Weasley twins declared Bart to be the 'King of Knives', bowing down before him every time he passed them. Bart positively absorbed their adulation, however exaggerated.
However, just as the snowy mountains turned icy grey, the lake water to chilled steel, the grassy fields of the Quidditch grounds to frost, and autumn to winter, the reception he received turned similarly cold, with adoration and adulation giving way to muck-racking and puerile sensation.
Indeed, by the time November had set in, Bart was subject to rumours that ranged from slightly exaggerated to downright defamatory. Cat-calls, hoots and accusations accosted Bart as he traversed the halls.
"Hey Simpson, I heard you cooked the troll's flesh and ate it!"
"How did the troll's blood taste, Simpson?"
"Simpson, is it true that you used one of the troll's teeth in a dark ritual?"
Draco, who was still smarting over Bart pouring pumpkin juice over his head in the common room, joined in with relish, taunting him during breakfast.
"Hey Simpson, your name is mud. Figures doesn't it, given how much of a stinking Mudblood you are!"
"Maybe so Drain-o, but at least I can win a duel", came Bart's retort, shutting the blond up.
Oh man, this is terrible. Nobody even tried to warn me that this could happen! Bart ironically thought before hearing Gemma mutter, "I told you so."
Oh yeah, that's right…
On his way to Transfiguration class, Bart endured yet more slander, but consoled himself by thinking, maybe I should just make myself invisible and be done with it. Oh well, at least nobody has accused me of getting down and dirty with the troll.
Right on cue, a wag called out, "Hey Simpson, I heard you did it with the troll!" to a cacophony of laughter.
Ok, that does it!
"Did what?" Bart asked innocently. "Mow the lawn? Go to the county fair? Have a baby shower?" to bemused expressions from his hecklers.
Heh heh heh, that shut them up.
Unfortunately, Bart's troubles were not over. As he turned the corner, a voice yelled out, "Hey, troll-boy! Take this!"
Before Bart could react, an older Gryffindor had hit him with a white spell. Instantly, his robes disappeared, with his skin turning grey as he grew two toes on each foot, with protruding ears and nails. His stomach also bloated to gargantuan proportions as his thought processes atrophied.
Before long, Bart had become Hogwarts' newest resident troll, as his transformation was met with fresh laughter and mockery.
"Hey look, everyone. Simpson's trolling us!" one bright spark hollered, causing ever more mirth.
Luckily, the transformation wasn't perfectly executed, so Bart not only retained his tell-tale spikey head of hair, but also some semblance of human thought.
Me Bart. Me need to go to room to use…feather…thingy, Bart thought as he stumbled into the correct classroom.
His appearance was met with wide eyes and slack-jawed expressions from the rest of the class, as he grunted and pointed to the empty desk next to Tracey.
The penny then dropped, as Professor McGonagall broke the silence by breathlessly asking, "Mr. Simpson! Is that you?" After Bart nodded, the class burst into hysterical laughter, with Draco and his posse laughing louder than anyone.
After the black-haired professor transfigured Bart back into a human being, Draco quipped, "He hasn't changed one bit!", to yet more laughter.
"I'd rather look like a troll than whatever the hell you look like, Drain-o", Bart spat back as he stormed to the empty chair and sat down in a huff.
"See, this is why Daphne told you that you needed to be more subtle and thoughtful about the way you act and talk when in Slytherin, Bart", Tracey smugly noted, with Daphne sanctimoniously nodding in agreement.
For once in his life, Bart had nothing to say, instead inwardly stewing with a desire for revenge. Such a desire was only strengthened by Professor McGonagall deducting a mere 5 points from Gryffindor after discussing what had happened with Bart after class. As he walked to his Charms class, Bart wondered how he could revenge himself upon his assailant.
Hmmm…maybe I can get revenge by pranking the Gryffindors in their common room. Nah, that's too obvious. Think, Bart – what would a Slytherin do in this situation?
Wait, I know! I think it's time for a good old-fashioned frame-up. What I'll do is set off fireworks in every common room except the Gryffindor one. That way, everyone will be mad at the Gryffindors and people will start insulting them instead of me. Yeah, that's perfect!
The only thing is, where do I get fireworks? Could I try transfiguring them? Wait! Maybe that room that Gemma and I practice in will have some nice, loud fireworks if I just imagine it! I might also have several different types of fireworks to choose from! But when I should carry out the prank?
Hmmm…there is a Quiddick – I mean, Quidditch match coming up soon. Most of the school will be busy watching it, so I can go around the school and do my stuff. The only question is, how do I get inside the common rooms? I'm going to have to trick people into showing me how. Well, I have Charms now, so maybe I could ask Professor Flitwick how after class? Just in theory, of course.
By the time he reached the Charms classroom, Bart was cackling inwardly, belying his neutral countenance.
To butter the diminutive professor up, Bart made a point of both performing the requisite charm with his usual finesse and taking as many notes as he could, figuring that Professor Flitwick would be far more likely to open up to a model student than an…off-model one.
Luckily for Bart, he had already learnt the Spongify charm and could thus perform it with his eyes closed – which he naturally did. Upon seeing this, the ever-excitable Professor Flitwick almost collapsed onto the floor after getting positively giddy with excitement.
Oh, this is too perfect. I have him right where I want him, Bart thought with an evil chuckle. Pressing home his advantage, Bart approached the dwarf-like professor after class, batting his eyelids innocently. Professor Flitwick responded to his approach with typical effusiveness.
"Ah, Mr. Simpson, my most talented student! What do I have the pleasure of discussing with you today?" the professor enquired with his trademark gusto.
"Well, Professor", Bart began with feigned innocence and meekness, "some mean older students have been tricking me into dropping my underpants in the Slytherin dorms. I need to know what spell they've been using so I can try and overcome it."
"Well, Mr. Simpson, there are two possible spells these students could be using. The first one is the Imperius Curse. It is called an Unforgivable Curse because anyone caught using it receives an automatic life sentence in Azkaban – the wizarding prison", the professor clarified after witnessing Bart's befuddled expression. "It can only be resisted by a wizard with exceptional willpower. Since these students are Slytherins, it is most unlikely they are using it because of the potential penalties involved.
No, I believe that they are using a Confundus Charm, which simply confuses and misdirects the target. You would effectively be confused into dropping your underpants. This spell takes a large amount of concentration to cast, but it is certainly possible for an older student to use. Like the Imperius Curse, it can be resisted by those with sufficient willpower."
Bart nodded in understanding as the tiny teacher continued, but inwardly thought, Great. Something that needs me to actually concentrate. Hopefully I'll be able to concentrate for long enough to pull it off.
"Mr. Simpson, do you know whom these students are? I can't let bullying like this continue, especially for someone in such a…delicate…position within their house."
"I'm afraid not, sir, but I will tell you once I figure it out", Bart lied.
"I hope that you do, Mr. Simpson. Keep up the good work!" the professor replied, as Bart went on his merry way.
Now all I have to do is learn the Confundus Charm. But how? I guess I would do what Lisa would do – read a book.
Sure enough, Bart was back in the duelling arena with a book in hand, learning about the Confundus Charm.
So it can not only be used to confuse and misdirect people, but objects as well? I'll keep that in mind; it could come in handy.
Ever a man of action, Bart quickly placed the book down, transfigured a stink bomb into a cat and practised the charm.
Much to his consternation, however, even when he correctly performed the wand movement, he could only perform the charm for a short amount of time before his ADD-addled mind lost concentration. He pressed on, casting the charm repeatedly, but found that he was doing little except exhausting himself.
There must be a way to improve my concentration. But how – THAT'S IT! Bart thought as he had a 'eureka' moment. Meditation! That's how Lisa and I prepared for that miniature golf tournament! It really sharpened my focus.
He then sat down and meditated in a stereotypical fashion, crossing his legs and placing his arms on his thighs while breathing deeply. After 30 seconds, he felt more focused and relaxed.
Right, let's try now, he thought. He hit the cat with a Confundus Charm and found that he could hold it for longer without his concentration breaking.
Maybe if I meditate some more, I'll be able to hold the spell for even longer, Bart contemplated as he adopted his meditation pose again, challenging himself to stay still for longer periods of time. This whole process continued for the next week, until he reached the point where he could hold the Confundus Charm on cats for more than 2 minutes.
Su-poib, Bart thought as he vanished the cat and left the room. Now all I need is access to some fireworks. What if I think, 'I need a place with lots of unused fireworks'? Yeah, that'll do the trick. With that, Bart paced past the place where the door previously was three consecutive times before a door came up.
Let's see what lies within, Bart thought as he opened the door. He was met with a sight for a prankster's sore eyes – row upon row of fireworks of different colours and varieties.
Whoa, awesome! the mischievous mage thought as he scouted the room like a kid in a candy store. Eventually, he came across Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks – only this variety had a timer attached.
Hmmm…I could set these to all go off at the same time. Imagine the panic it would cause if explosions rocked the school, Bart thought to himself with a smirk as he swiped a few and placed them into his school bag before leaving the room, sniggering evilly all the while.
Sure enough, Saturday came around in all its bright yet frigid glory, with almost everybody bar Bart gearing up to attend the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Gemma was no exception, and the room was alive with talk of the upcoming game. Even the teachers were participating in the conversation, with Professors McGonagall and Snape having a particularly animated discussion.
"Hey Bart, are you going to come with me to see Slytherin play Gryffindor?" Gemma asked Bart over a sumptuous English breakfast.
"No thanks. I was actually going to practice some spells in that Buddhist combat book", Bart lied.
"Good luck – you'll most certainly need it", Gemma wryly observed as she ate her fried sausages.
Bart smirked to himself as he observed the goings on among other tables. Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry looked particularly haggard, as if he hadn't slept for a thousand years. Hermione didn't seem to be helping, as she appeared to be on the verge of stuffing toast down the bespectacled boy's gullet.
Glad I don't have to put up with her, Bart thought.
In the minutes leading up to 11 am, the students began to leave for the Quidditch grounds, ending a period for Bart wherein every minute seemed to take an eternity to pass. After bidding Gemma farewell, Bart took advantage of the commotion by disillusioning and silencing himself before becoming one with the crowd. He eventually encountered a trio of Hufflepuffs who were around his age, one of whom was a red-headed girl. In a trice, he struck her in the back with a precisely placed Confundus Charm before muttering, "You have forgotten something from the Hufflepuff common room and need to go back and get it." It took considerable amounts of concentration to not break the charm while he was issuing his command – indeed, humans were altogether more difficult to confound than cats – but his meditation sessions held him in good stead.
"Uh guys, I need to go back to our common room and get something. I'll find you lot in the stands", the red-head began.
"No problem, Susan", the blond-haired girl responded as Susan ventured back to the Hufflepuff common room, with Bart in tow. As she inadvertently led him back to the badger's lair, Bart became absorbed in his own thoughts.
Susan…I know this girl, but from where? Bart thought before having yet another epiphany. Wait, I know! This girl is named Susan Boners, I mean Bones! She was sorted before I was! Gemma told me to watch out for her because of her aunt. If only Gemma could see me controlling her now! he thought with triumph, as Susan went down a familiar-looking staircase. Bart quickly realised that this was the same staircase that led to the Hogwarts kitchens.
Sure enough, Susan led him into the same stone basement corridor where Gemma had used Legilimency to interrogate Bart. She then turned towards the right-hand side of the corridor and stopped in front of a nook, which was concealed by a few barrels that were stacked against the wall. To Bart's surprise, Susan then tapped the barrels in a rhythm that certainly wasn't derived from modern Western popular music. The lid behind the barrels then swung open and Susan made to walk through.
I can't let her close the door behind her! Bart frantically thought. Using his trademark quick thinking, he hit her with yet another Confundus Charm, all the while muttering, "You will forget to close the lid." While casting the spell for the second time wore him out further, she eventually did and he quickly stepped in before quietly closing the lid behind him, lest some other Hufflepuff notice the ajar lid and raise the alarm.
The sight that greeted him made him shiver in revulsion. Basically, the Hufflepuff common room was round and earthy, with a low ceiling. Where the Slytherin dungeons exuded an air of cool mystique, the Hufflepuff equivalent was so wholesome that it reminded Bart of the Flanders residence. Like the Flanders residence, it was clearly meant to be warm and welcoming but instead it made Bart want to shoot vomit across the room. The circular windows that provided a prime view of rippling grass and dandelions didn't help much, making Bart feel as if he was watching a Teletubbies sketch. What really rounded off the whole nausea-inducing package, however, was a portrait of a rotund lady, who was obviously meant to be the house founder or some such.
Oh man, seeing her picture would kill a few boners, Bart thought with a shudder. Not wanting to spend much time in such a saccharine environment, Bart looked for a place to attach the firework. Spotting a low table near a fireplace, he threw himself under the table before attaching and timing the firework to go off at 2 am, to both minimise potential injuries and maximise potential annoyance. He then scarpered out before he succumbed to his mounting nausea.
As Bart left the stone basement corridor and headed up the stairs, he wondered where he would find a Ravenclaw student to confound.
Hmmm…Dumbledore told me that Ravenclaw values intelligence. That means that most Ravenclaw students are probably geeks or nerds. So they probably hang out at the library or something.
With renewed purpose, Bart headed to the Hogwarts Library. Once there, he took a moment to take in the unpalatable sight of the librarian, Irma Pince.
Ay carumba, why is it that half of these teachers look more like birds, animals or creatures than people? Snape looks like a bat, Flitwick looks like one of Snow White's seven dwarves and this woman looks like a vulture. Does magic make teachers even uglier? Yeeeesh.
He then headed in the direction where he heard the sound of quietly chattering students. What he saw took his breath away.
The Ravenclaw boy he saw might have had straight, lighter brown hair rather than darker curly brown hair, but he had the same high cheek-bones and dark, intense brown eyes as Seraphinus. There was no doubt in Bart's mind that this was Terry Boot, and that the two were related. He also remembered how the English branch of the Boot family was reputed by Gemma to be close to Headmaster Dumbledore in some fashion. He briefly wondered if the same was true of the American branch, but then went about hitting him in the back with the Confundus Charm.
"You have forgotten something from your common room and so you want to get it", Bart muttered under his breath. He had recovered some from when he cast the second Confundus Charm on Susan, but nonetheless was worn out further by having to concentrate.
"Hey Sue, I need to get something from our common room", Terry stated, to which Sue simply nodded.
Not much for words, these Ravenclaws, Bart thought with a smirk as Terry unwittingly led Bart out of the library. Unlike Susan, however, Terry was leading Bart up the various stairwells, until they reached a door without a doorknob or keyhole. Instead, there existed an eagle-shaped bronze knocker. To Bart's surprise, the knocker started spouting a riddle.
"What is greater than Merlin,
more evil than You-Know-Who,
the poor have it,
the rich need it,
and if you eat it, you'll die?"
"Nothing", responded Terry, as the door swung open. Bart had the presence of mind to confound Terry once again so he forgot to close the door behind him, but unfortunately doing so brought Bart to the brink of exhaustion.
Stumbling inside and closing the door behind him, he took in the scenery for a moment. This common room was more to his liking than the sickly sweet Hufflepuff one, as it was wide and circular, featuring arched windows hung with blue and bronze silks, alongside a midnight blue carpet covered in stars. He found that the carpet was reflected on the ceiling, giving off the illusion that he was staring into an evocative night sky. Better yet, there was no boner-killing portrait of an obviously overweight founder.
After taking in the sights, Bart flung himself under a table and attached the firework, before timing it and staggering out of the common room. By this time, he had used enough magic to render him tipsy, as he stumbled towards the Slytherin dungeons like a sacred cow. Luckily, he was able to not only remain invisible, but also attach and time a firework under a table in his house's common room before heading down to the dormitories. However, it took all his remaining energy to climb into bed and cast a Protego Totalum before de-cloaking and going out like a light.
In Bart's ensuing dream, he was busy duelling Mr. Burns with his wand, apparently to determine the fate of the universe. Behind Mr. Burns lay his loyal snake Slithers, who was seemingly ready to strike should Bart take his eyes off him for so much as a millisecond. Both were trading curses of indeterminate origin with frightening speed.
Just as Bart appeared to be winning, a ghostly voice called out, Simpson! Simpson! Briefly distracted, he was hit by Mr. Burns with an orange curse. He screamed to the stars as his body began to disintegrate slowly and painfully, with Mr. Burns cackling madly all the while. Bart awoke with a start and turned to his left. He saw Theo's weedy figure and vaguely rat-faced visage staring back at him with unsettling intensity.
"Come on, we have to go to the feast!" Theo exclaimed.
Need to be careful of this dude. His Dad worked for Voldemort, Bart thought as he hauled himself out of bed and followed Theo into the Great Hall before sitting down next to Gemma, who looked very pleased indeed.
"Hey Bart, Slytherin beat Gryffindor. Gryffindor's idiot seeker was too busy showboating to actually catch the Snitch", Gemma gloated.
"Yeah, great", Bart replied less than enthusiastically, still feeling for all the world as if he had consumed the contents of the entire Duff brewery.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, just feel a bit tired", Bart lied as he locked eyes with Harry over at the Gryffindor table.
After making eye contact with Bart, Harry opined, "Ron, Hermione, I think we should let Bart know what's going on with Fluffy and Nicolas Flamel."
"Are you sure, Harry? What if he stabs us in the back?" Ron asked with just a tinge of paranoia.
"As I've told you Ron, Slytherins aren't all bad. He basically saved us in the dungeons", Harry replied, tired of drilling that sentiment into Ron's head.
"I agree with Harry. I don't approve of Bart's behaviour, but he is very skilled for his age, and so he could help us a great deal", Hermione noted.
"I'll slip him a note in Potions, then", Harry finished, despite Ron's protests.
At 2 am the next morning, the Slytherin dormitory was rocked by massive explosions as Bart's fireworks went off. Bart and the rest of his roommates abruptly woke up. Realising what was happening, Bart decided to milk the incident for all it was worth to throw suspicion off himself.
"WE'RE BEING ATTACKED! SOMEONE NEEDS TO LOCK THAT DOOR!" Bart hysterically howled.
"Alright, alright Simpson, don't go off your rocker", Theo admonished as he locked the door by uttering, "Colloportus!"
"Nice display of composure there, Simpson", Draco taunted, to which Bart simply made an obscene gesture.
Before Draco could respond in kind, Prefect Craggy magically unlocked the door and burst in like a freight train.
"Everybody out! All four houses have to meet up in the Great Hall", the male prefect thundered.
As Bart emerged from the dormitory into the dim light of the Slytherin Common Room, he surveyed – and savoured – the damage.
From what he could see, the table under which he planted the firework had been blasted into matchsticks, with the common room being peppered by ugly black scorch marks. Indeed, the place resembled a warzone.
Ah, I should write a book. 'The Art of Pranking' I would call it, Bart whimsically thought as he arrived in the Great Hall and waited for Gemma to take her seat in the usual place.
Not too long after he sat, Headmaster Dumbledore took the floor. Bart marvelled at his ability to instantly command the entire hall's attention, turning heads merely by enunciating some syllables.
"Ladies and gentlemen, there has been an attack on the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin common rooms. The damage was extensive, but has since been repaired. If anybody knows anything about who perpetrated this act, please consult myself or one of the teachers. Thank you."
The Great Hall then burst into speculation and Bart sat back appreciatively, as if he was enjoying a good movie.
This'll take the attention off me, he thought with a satisfied smirk.
Bart had no idea how correct he was. Much to Bart's pleasure, the Gryffindors were viciously attacked the next morning, both at breakfast and in the corridors, with students from other houses throwing food, parchment and insults at them. Indeed, it seemed like Bart's encounter with the troll may as well have occurred a century ago given the attention he was now not receiving.
Ah, I love it when a plan comes together, Bart smugly thought as he witnessed the opprobrium directed towards the Gryffindors.
However, as with so many of Bart's pranks, by dinner it was clear that the consequences of his prank had spiralled out of control.
"Hey Bart, I heard that they caught the students responsible for blowing up our common room", Gemma began.
Bart's eyes became as wide as the Sahara Desert upon hearing that. "Ummm…who?"
"The Weasley Twins. They're apparently going to be expelled."
WHAT? "Serves those filthy pranksters right", Bart unconvincingly replied, trying to hide his rising panic as he agonised over what course of action he should take.
He remembered the last time he was in a position to clear an innocent person's name; namely, when Freddie Quimby was wrongly accused of beating a French waiter. Sure, Quimby was a jackass, and coming forward would have had serious ramifications for Bart, but the boy still could not in good conscience let Quimby go to jail for a crime he didn't commit.
And, in a moment of perfect clarity, Bart realised that he could not conscionably let the Weasley twins get expelled for something that he did.
With that, he finished his food and briskly walked out of the Great Hall before hurtling towards the Headmaster's Office as fast as his legs could carry him. When he finally got there, he veritably blurted out the password before scampering in.
At this point, the centenarian headmaster looked up and greeted him with typical affability.
"Ah, young Bart. How can I trouble you on this lovely evening? Would you like a Lemon Drop?"
"No thanks, Headmaster Dumbledore. Listen, I know who blew up those common rooms."
"Really? Please enlighten me."
"It…was me."
To prove that he was telling the truth, Bart then stared into the ageing headmaster's eyes with such intensity that he could have burnt out the older man's orbs. Silence then momentarily hung over the room before the wizened mage offered Bart a seat and adopted a more serious tone.
"Tell me, Bart. Why did you attack those common rooms?"
"So that the school wouldn't tease or attack me in the corridors. A Gryffindor student turned me into a troll, so I got revenge by pinning the attack on the Gryffindors. But I never meant to frame the Weasley twins", Bart insisted, before sharing the memory of his transfiguration into a troll with Professor Dumbledore.
After a moment, the headmaster nodded in acknowledgement before wearily concluding, "Bart, you have committed a serious offence. In other circumstances, I might be tempted to expel you. However, you demonstrated moral fibre in coming forward even though you knew that you would be punished if you did. I will simply deduct 50 points from Slytherin and have you serve a detention with Professor Snape. I will also have the student who transfigured you into a troll punished."
Bart sighed in relief and made to swirl and saunter out of the room before Headmaster Dumbledore said something else in an altogether lighter tone.
"By the way, you, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley may have an extra 45 points each for saving the life of another student."
Bart smiled appreciatively before departing the room. When he did, the ageing headmaster leaned back on his chair and lost himself in thought. Truth be told, he had never for a moment intended to expel the Weasley twins. When Professor McGonagall brought them into his office, he established their innocence by using Legilimency to peruse their memories. After doing so, he simply told Professor McGonagall to let slip false information about the Weasley twins' upcoming expulsion when she was sure students could hear her. He had hoped – correctly as it transpired – that those rumours would convince the real culprit to come forward.
In another sense, he was relieved that Bart had shown himself not to be like Tom Riddle, the prospect of which might well have given the headmaster a heart attack. Forget about coming forward; Riddle would have likely framed another student to cover his tracks, as the elderly mage suspected that he did with Hagrid many a moon ago. That Bart proved himself unwilling to do that distinguished him favourably from his older Slytherin counterpart and allowed the headmaster to sleep soundly that night.
Author's notes for Chapter Eleven
Apologies for the long delay; life got in the way yet again.
It's not clear how you resist the Confundus Charm in canon to my knowledge, so I compared it to the Imperius Curse in terms of how to resist it, since both spells manipulate the mind.
The 'sacred cow' line refers to China Girl by David Bowie.