Chapter Thirteen

Much to Bart's chagrin, all good things had to come to an end and he soon found himself sitting in his History of Magic class, having long since tuned out Binns' droning. Instead, he was thinking back to the last day of the Christmas break, which he saw out in the Simpson abode.

To his utter non-surprise, as soon as he strode through the door, Marge locked him into a vice-like hug and showered him with kisses, while Lisa sniggered at his obvious discomfiture.

"Oh, my special little guy! I'm so glad that you're all right!"

OK, this is what I don't miss about Mum…

Hearing Lisa's chuckles, as soon as Marge was finished he turned to her and irritably asked, "So Lisa, how was your little crusade against those evil loggers?"

"Oh, I'd like to think that the contribution of Mum and myself helped to stop the logging", Lisa smugly replied.

Right on cue, as if God was personally playing a practical joke on Lisa, Kent Brockman delivered this line, "Today, the Rich Texan's Logging Company will commence logging of Springfield National Forest…"

Lisa's expression, in equal parts heartbroken and angered, was a priceless sight for both Bart and Homer, who chuckled at the futility of Lisa's endeavours. Marge, meanwhile, was simply looking irritated – after all, this was not the first time that Lisa had snookered her into some pointless environmental endeavour.

"You can't stop progress, Lis", Bart taunted.

Lisa then turned around, teeth bared as if she was just about ready to pounce and devour him. Instead, Bart felt a million pus-filled boils painfully erupting out of his body like volcanos. Never one to forgo laughing at another person's misfortune, Homer himself erupted with laughter at the sight, while Marge frowned.

Bart made to curse Lisa in retaliation, but then Dumbledore's words of warning about performing magic outside Hogwarts floated into his mind. Instead, he relied on a tried-and-tested standby; complaining to his mother.

"Mu-um! Lisa cursed me!"

"Lisa, remove the curse, apologise to Bart and go to your room. Bart, apologise to Lisa for making fun of her efforts to protect the environment."

Sure, I can fake an apology. "Lisa, I'm sorry for making fun of your efforts to stop the logging of that forest."

With teeth still gritted, and looking for all the world as if she wanted to butcher Bart, Lisa removed the hex and, taking a deep breath, tersely apologised before skulking slowly up to her room.

Things only improved for Bart after his little triumph over his overachieving sibling, as that evening, Marge came into his room to give him something he had so eagerly been waiting for.

"Sweetie, I have something for you", Marge replied, handing him a bag full of notes. "Consider this your present from the Simpson family."

At this, Bart embraced his mother, who reciprocated in kind. Her expression very quickly became firm, however.

"Now, I want you to go and apologise to Lisa. For real this time."

Bart looked as if he had just been glove-slapped. "How did you…"

Marge indulgently tapped her nose and replied, "A mother always knows."

At that, Bart sighed, took a deep breath and made his way to Lisa's room. Maybe Daphne had a point – perhaps he wasn't as cunning as he needed to be.

When Bart slipped into Lisa's room, she was clearly expressing herself through her soulful saxophone solo, as he had done not long after that time he had incinerated her Thanksgiving centrepiece. Bart wondered why he would do that; after all, he had apologised for embarrassing her. Unless…

"Hey Lis?" Bart tentatively enquired.

Lisa then turned to face her older brother. Bart had not expected that her face would be firm in its anger, nor did he expect the tear streaks arcing down her face like a network of roads.

She saw through my apology. That's why she was so unhappy about apologising to me. Must get that from Mum. So what should I do so she doesn't curse me?

With a rare display of caution, he put his hands up and closed his eyes, awaiting another hex.

After a moment most long, Lisa huskily replied, her voice betraying her previous crying, "Why did you mock me like that, Bart?"

Bart sighed. "We've spoken about this before, Lis. I just, like…I don't know…think before I act, because I love some action.

So I'm doing what you told me to do after I destroyed your centrepiece – look deep down inside myself and find a spot – something I don't want to be there – because I feel bad about mocking your environmental efforts."

At this, Lisa's heart leapt. He remembered how to say sorry from that time on the Simpson roof! In response, she gave a smile so warm that it lit up both the room and Bart's heart.

When she did that, Bart found that he could now conclude his agonising search for this 'spot' of Lisa's conception.

He then gave a genuinely heartfelt apology. "I'm really sorry for mocking your environmental activism, Lisa. Spending several days protesting against logging, then finding out that they'll start logging the forest anyway, must have been really awful. I would have felt awful too." If I gave a crap about the environment.

At that, Lisa pounced on him and enveloped him in a bone-crunching hug, kissing his left cheek all the while. After the initial shock, he hugged her in return.

I'm pretty sure Lisa doesn't have cooties, so I should be alright.

After a long silence, Lisa broke the silence.

"So…what's it like being friends with Harry Potter?"

Bart stared at her in bemusement before replying, "You read about him in one of those Ilvermorny textbooks, didn't you?"

"Of course. I wanted to know how many of those first-year spells I can perform wandless."

Of course. Wants to upstage me at Hogwarts too, Bart thought, resenting how her sister was the more intelligent and accomplished of them both. He couldn't be certain, but it wouldn't have surprised Bart if Lisa was actually the more talented wizard. After all, he had never been able to transfigure an elephant into a pot-plant, much less turn it back.

"How've you been going?"

"I mastered about 1/4 of the first-year spells, wandlessly, over the summer break. I haven't had much time to practice because of other commitments, but I learn them when I can. Right now, I'm probably 1/3 done."

Bart's jaw could have fallen through the floor, such was his shock – a 9-year old girl, obtaining wandless mastery of school magic? Not even he attempted that, nor was he sure that he could have at Lisa's age or in her position.

He was then shaken out of his shock by Lisa yelling "BART!" in his face.

Still disoriented, croaked the boy "WHAT?"

Concern showing in her big eyes, Lisa asked him if she was OK before pressing him about Harry.

"Well, he's a cool dude. It's pretty cool being around a celebrity because you share a bit of it, even though we're in different houses."

Ah Bart, always the attention seeker. To her surprise, her older brother then frowned, as if he was hiding something…uncomfortable. So uncomfortable, in fact, that only fidelity seemed to be preventing him from spilling the metaphorical beans.

"Bart. What's wrong?"

"Nothing", Bart dismissively waving his hand as he said this.

"Is it about Harry?"

Bart whipped his neck towards her with lightning-speed and gave her a stare that brooked no mercy should she tell anyone else.

Ever-perceptive, Lisa picked up on Bart's implied threat and, realising what might be at stake, softly replied, "I promise I won't tell anyone, Bart."

Hesitating momentarily, Bart replied, "I-I think that his family hates him."

"Didn't his family die?"

"He told me that he lives with his No-Maj Aunt and Uncle. They gave him 50 pence for a Christmas present. Harry even told me they were being friendly."

Lisa's mouth was askew with horror. "Wow. They make Dad - "

"Look like Father of the Year, I know. So if that's them being friendly, what are they like when they're unfriendly?"

Lisa frowned deeply. "Did he show signs of being abused?"

"His No-Maj clothes looked old and they didn't fit him properly", Bart replied with an uncharacteristic frown.

Lisa nodded. "He's been neglected at the very least. Bart, I'll keep your promise, but if you learn anything else about Harry's home life, please tell me."

Bart grinned sleazily. "This isn't about getting close to the Boy-Who-Lived is it, Lisa?"

"Of course not", Lisa casually replied, but her true feelings were given away by the merest hint of a blush.

"Whatever you say, lil' sis. Better snap him up before the competition does."

Lisa giggled as Bart grabbed, separated and enchanted two pieces of paper before giving one to Lisa.

"Lis, if you need anything, please write on this. I'll see the message you write. Make sure you write neatly."

"Is this - "

"An enchanted two-way note. Very advanced magic; little girls like you shouldn't try learning it."

"I'm sure I could learn it faster than you did."

"Yeah, but not better."

"What does that even mean?" Lisa shouted, throwing her arms up melodramatically.

"I know you are, but what am I?"

"Get out! GET OUT!" Lisa finally shouted, firmly pointing to the door as she stood bolt upright. Bart complied, but not before chuckling at how he had successfully gotten under his sister's skin.

Finally, Bart brought his mind back to the present. In truth, his time since coming back from Hogwarts had been relatively uneventful. Neither Harry nor Hermione had been very demonstrative with him, while Ron kept throwing Bart murderous glares. It was as if he blamed the mischievous mage, rather than his own intransigence, for his rift with Harry, a rift signified by their no longer partnering each other in Potions, nor sitting next to each other in the Great Hall. For his part, Bart responded to Ron's hostility with cheeky waves and winks, which apparently angered the red-headed boy further.

Well, it's your fault that you and Harry aren't talking.

To his relief, he noticed that his head of house had laid off him a tad since he had returned to Hogwarts, instead directing his ire towards Harry.

Did Harry steal one of your hands, Captain Hook? Bart thought after watching the hook-nosed man lay into Harry for not properly answering one of the man's questions.

However, he still found making mischief difficult, for Gemma watched him like a hawk. Indeed, in late February she veritably dragged him to the Quidditch game between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Bart fully expected to dislike the game, haunted as he was by his misadventure with 'Mandy'. However, he found the game surprisingly entertaining, what with Bludgers smashing into players, Quaffles regularly flying into goal hoops and players whizzing around at impressive speeds.

Hmm…hitting bludgers at players looks pretty cool. But maybe I'd get more attention if I was scoring goals like a Chaser or if I caught the snitch like a Seeker. Seraphinus told me that whoever catches the Snitch first usually wins, so I'd get plenty of attention that way.

Yeah…I'd want to be a Chaser or Seeker. Seeker's probably better.

It was obvious even to his novice self that Slytherin would eventually win the game; their attacks on goal were more synchronised, they used a wider variety of tactics and they were incredibly adept at disrupting Ravenclaw's rhythm through tactical fouls, which while coughing up a couple of penalty goals also continually forced Ravenclaw to try and restart their attacks. Moreover, Gemma told him that Higgs had been Slytherin's Seeker for some years, whereas the Ravenclaw Seeker appeared to be a pretty yet young Asian girl.

She's going to get burrrrrrrnt, Bart thought.

Sure enough, Higgs quickly caught the Snitch. The Slytherins erupted in cheering and gave him a standing ovation, as if he had successfully conducted an orchestral rendition. For his part, Bart grinned at the sight, as in his mind's eye he pictured the entire crowd cheering for him after catching the Snitch via an absolutely stupendous barrel-roll.

Yeah, I'll be a Seeker. That'll be the ticket – having the crowd eat out of my hand after yet another display of Bartesque brilliance.

The resultant celebration was something to behold. Higgs was feted as a hero in the common room, as he was showered with beverages and confetti.

Yeah…that seems like the life, Bart thought, looking on in envy. It was then that Gemma elbowed him in the ribs, shaking him out of his reverie.

"Bart – look at Malfoy."

Having done so, he noted that the boisterous blond had an expression on his face that he had never seen him sport before – a combination of envy and determination.

"He wants to get on the team too, doesn't he?" asked Bart. "Maybe to replace Higgs?"

"Most likely. As I've told you, the Malfoys have no ethics whatsoever. His father will get him on the Quidditch team if Draco asks for his help, by hook or by crook."

"You mean by bribing whats-his-face?"

"Flint? Yes. Which is why I want you to make the team."

Bart looked as if he had just been slapped by a wet fish. "A-wha?"

"You heard me."

"This is about trying to keep Drain-o from the team, isn't it?"

"Hopefully, but maybe not, if his father gives over enough Galleons. Do you remember what happened the last time Malfoy was able to exercise serious influence over other Slytherins?"

Bart shuddered at the memory of his gang-bashing before responding, having finally cottoned on to Gemma's train of thought. "Yeah, I do. Are you saying that being on the Quidditch team will make me too influential for our good friend Draco to attack without losing cred?"

Gemma scowled at Bart's overly casual vernacular but nonetheless replied, "Yes, I am. Plus, I'm sure that Flint doesn't like his players getting injured. I don't think he'll react well if Malfoy tries to injure you while you're on the team."

"How do you know all this stuff?" Bart asked in wonderment.

Gemma gave the young lad a tight smile before responding, "Experience and observation, Bart."

Bart nodded in understanding, but his answer still betrayed lingering hesitance about trying out.

"Gemma, you know what happened the last time I got on a broom, right?"

"Yes, I know. I'll tell you what, I'll teach you over the summer holidays, OK? As I told you, I was a useful Chaser, so why don't I train you to be one?"

Chaser, huh? Seeker would be better, but I guess that being a Chaser will do. "Deal."

That night, Bart pulled out a parchment with a green 'X' on the top, to better distinguish it from the ones used to communicate with Harry and Gemma, and sent Lisa a message.

"Hey Lis, what's been happening? It's been a little while."

"Hey Bart. Well, Dad briefly became a stuntman like Lance Murdock, but he stopped when his doctor said he'd die if he crashed again. As for Incest Spuckler, Ned Flanders apparently moved him on to foster care."

Bart chuckled. "Ah Homer, always doing something stupid."

"Yeah. So what have you been doing?"

Bart briefly gave her a rundown of what was happening, after which she asked yet more questions.

"Why do you think Professor Snape dislikes Harry so much?"

"He probably kicked his dog – or maybe stole one of his hands – or maybe Harry's dad banged Snape's ex-girlfriend or something."

"Hmmm…Quidditch sounds like an interesting game. Do you think I'd make a good keeper?"

"Well you were a pretty great ice hockey keeper for a while, so I don't see why not."

"Thanks Bart. I think I'll try out once I get to Hogwarts."

"Yeah OK, just don't steal my spotlight."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Bart."

Bart smiled before wishing her goodnight and heading down to the dormitory. Yes, compared to Harry, his home life was pretty good.

A few weeks later, Bart found himself back in the duelling arena, panting with hands on knees after yet another gruelling session. Truth be told, after he had finally verbally and non-verbally mastered the Stupefy spell with Gemma's assistance, he had spent the remaining time by himself attempting to conjure a wakizashi, or short sword. He had reasoned that it would be useful in close quarters combat, but for him it was mostly about looking cool.

As with the tantō, Bart had to endure the frustrating sight of conjured swords that were missing a handle, half a blade and even in one case a sword that felt blunter than one of Lisa's pencils. He even fell unconscious from exhaustion at one point.

Man, I'm not getting anywhere casting this spell, Bart thought, mind fogged by enervation. However, to his surprise he found that he was mistaken. Before him was a fully-formed wakizashi. It was adorned with a black handle. When Bart unsheathed the 45 cm blade, he could tell that it was razor-sharp to the touch.

Oh man, this is so cool, Bart thought as he grinned appreciatively at his newest, and sharpest, creation, all exhaustion having since vanished, having been replaced by elation.

So caught up was he in his reverie that Bart took a moment to realise that his parchment was heating up. Sure enough, Bart whipped it out to find a message from Harry, who seemed from afar to have become more cheerful since Gryffindor had overcome Hufflepuff by the tightest of margins.

"Bart, I think that Snape's trying to steal the Stone."

Bart paused for a moment before asking, "Why?"

"Well, Snape asked Quirrell if he had figured out how to get past the three-headed dog, and he also asked him to figure out where his loyalties lie."

"Well, he's either working with Quirrell to steal the Stone, or he thinks that Quirrell is trying to steal it."

"Or he's blackmailing Quirrell into trying to steal it for him."

Bart sat and thought for a moment. Truth be told, he was unsure what to think. His head of house was an absolute bastard, but he seemed to be nothing but loyal to Headmaster Dumbledore. Then again, the man was a Slytherin – a Slytherin could certainly be cunning enough to act as a double-agent until the time was right. With that, he sent a message back.

"Don't trust either of them."

"You really think that Quirrell is working with Snape?"

"Maybe. Quirrell's stuttering and stupidity might be an act – to manipulate other people into thinking that he's not a threat."

Besides, I can't let either of them get the Stone – it's mine!

After a moment, Harry wrote back. "OK Bart – we'll keep an eye on both of them."

"Good."

Bart sat and smiled. It was good to have Harry on his side in his quest to grab the Philosopher's Stone – after all, weren't friends meant to help each other?

Bart would have liked the weeks that followed to arouse more enjoyment. Not only did he not discover anything new from watching Professors Quirrell and Snape, but exams were drawing closer. As such, not only was Gemma revising for her O.W.L. exams with ever more regularity, but Daphne and, to his surprise, Hermione were badgering him to join in their study groups.

"Hey Daphne, you know our exams are ten weeks away, right?" Bart rhetorically asked, after Tracey and she had yet again confronted him about the issue after their History of Magic class.

"Yes, Bart", Daphne replied with an impatient roll of her eyes, "but our teachers are giving us so much homework that we may not have the chance to sit down and study properly later."

"So what?"

Daphne sighed. "Bart, you need to pass your exams to make it to second year."

Bart blanched at hearing that. He knew what it was like to stare down the barrel of repeating a grade, and frankly it was not an experience he wished to repeat.

Seeing his discomfort, Daphne decided to apply the finishing touch. "Besides, do you really want Malfoy to get better grades than you?"

Bart narrowed his eyes in determination. "Let's go", he commanded, leading them to the library as they smiled at each other triumphantly.

Upon entrance, Bart, Daphne and Tracey sat down at a table most varnished. Just after they commenced their studies, Bart looked up and realised that Hagrid was in the library, with Harry and Hermione blissfully unaware as they were sitting at the table opposite them.

What the hell is Hagrid doing here?

He then quickly stood up.

"Just looking for the toilet", Bart lied as he calmly walked behind a bookshelf and began transfiguring.

"Harry, Hagrid's in front of you – he's trying to hide himself behind a bookshelf!"

As he pocketed the parchment and turned around, Daphne's voice whispered into his ear, such that he could feel her scented breath.

"Bart, you're still not cunning enough. I knew you weren't looking for the toilet."

Bart's heart stopped and his blood turned into ice.

Oh crap.

Having read Bart's message, the pretty blond deduced whom Bart was interacting with. "Harry? As in Harry Potter? Don't tell me that you've been associating with Gryffindors, Bart", she said in a dangerous voice.

"And if I have?"

"Bart, if news of this emerges, then Slytherins, particularly the purebloods, will call you a Mudblood traitor. Being a Muggleborn Slytherin is bad enough, but as a Mudblood traitor you can look forward to not only having no friends within Slytherin, otherwise they'd be tainted, but also regular attacks, particularly from the purebloods."

"Daphne, I'm pretty talented. You saw me wipe the floor with Drain-o in that duel, right?"

"Yes, I know. But that doesn't mean you can take on 10 or more Slytherins at a time. Or watch your back at every moment.

And Farley will also abandon you – oh come on Bart, I have eyes and ears too you know", Daphne admonished as Bart's eyes widened in surprise.

She mulled over whether or not she should tell Bart that Gemma was using him. Gemma would still be needed to help take care of Draco before she graduated. On the other hand, she had come to see Bart as her friend and felt that in principle he had a right to know of the older prefect's manipulations.

After some thought, she decided to hold off. She didn't need to get on Gemma's bad side; maybe she could tell Bart the truth after the older girl graduated.

It was then that Bart replied, "OK Daphne, I'll be more careful about talking to Gryffindors in future. Just don't tell anyone, OK? I'll be with you in a moment."

"I won't, Bart. Just don't be too long", Daphne replied as she regally walked back to her table.

The drama of his interaction with Daphne had taken Bart's mind from how the parchment had been heating up constantly. Finally, frantically, he pulled it out.

A short time earlier, as they were exiting the library, Harry wrote to Bart using his enchanted parchment.

"Bart, Hagrid was hiding something behind his back. We think that 'something' was a dragon egg, because Hermione realised that he was researching dragons. He wants Hermione and me to meet him in his hut afterwards."

Harry's message met with no response, which concerned the myopic mage.

He wrote Bart's name several times – still, no response.

"Something's happened to Bart, Hermione."

Hermione pondered thoughtfully. "Hmmmm…I saw that blond Slytherin girl he was with – Greengrass, I think – go behind the bookshelf after him. I think she found out about the parchment."

Harry's face turned a sickly – and ironic - shade of green. "How much do you think this Greengrass girl knows?"

Hermione sighed as she shrugged. "I really don't know. We won't interact with him until he clarifies the matter with us."

Harry nodded, but he was nonetheless still worried about Bart. What exactly had been said and done behind that bookshelf?

Sometime later, after a stultifying study session which caused his mind to drift off to…well, practically everywhere else, Bart found himself in the duelling arena. After sending a message to Harry, he was surprised to see him quickly write back.

"Bart, does the Greengrass girl know about this parchment?"

Bart sighed before writing back. "Yeah, she does."

"Damn."

"She promised not to tell anyone. Besides, I'm definitely alone right now."

"OK. All the professors, and a few other wizards belonging to the Order of the Phoenix or something, have performed enchantments to protect the Philosopher's Stone."

"Even Snape and Quirrell?"

"Yes. Hagrid also has a dragon egg in his hut. It's a Norwegian Ridgeback."

"Wow, that is so cool!"

"Yeah, cool. He said he got it off a stranger in a pub."

"Stranger in a pub…do you know anything else?"

"No; I'll write if anything comes up."

With that, their little chat concluded, as Bart got to work perfecting a spell that he thought could be a genuine game-changer on the right occasion.

Some weeks later, just as Transfiguration class was about to commence, Draco appeared in the doorway, his usually immaculate hair looking slightly ragged as he was sweating profusely. One could tell that he had been running.

"Mr. Malfoy? Where have you been?"

"Sorry Professor, I urgently had to go to the toilet."

Liar, Bart thought.

"Well, come in and sit down."

With a smug smirk, the blond did so. Not long afterwards, the parchment in Bart's pocket began to heat up.

Harry's contacting me now? Ay carumba, talk about bad timing!

Bart quickly stuck his hand up. "Professor, can I go to the toilet?"

Daphne gave him a very dubious look but said nothing. Au contraire, the middle-aged witch replied with an indulgent smile, "Not until you have transformed that cup in front of you into a bird, Mr. Simpson."

In a trice, the cup in front of Bart transformed into a magnificent bald eagle.

"There's your bird, complete with the American touch. Now can I please go?"

After Bart finished his sentence, the bird started pecking him in the face.

"Ow! Get it off! Get it off!" Bart yelled, as the class roared in laughter, with Draco and his posse once again laughing louder than anyone. Even the Professor herself looked amused.

"Very good, Mr. Simpson", she said after vanishing the bird. "You may leave. While you're at it, you may wish to see Madam Pomfrey – dare I say that, even though it may appear to the contrary, I do not want you to die from blood less from that cut to your face", to which the class laughed again.

After Bart left for Madam Pomfrey, he asked himself, Why do birds keep attacking me?

Once he had been healed, he had secured himself in a nearby toilet before reading the piece of parchment.

"Bart, the dragon has hatched. In Hagrid's wooden hut. Malfoy saw it happen. You'll have to try and stop him from doing something about it. He could get Hagrid, Hermione and me in lots of trouble."

Showing his one-track mind, Bart eagerly sent a message asking, "The dragon hatched? What did it look like?"

"Like a black, crumpled umbrella. Look, that's not important. You have to stop Malfoy!"

Not important? It's a goddamn dragon; of course it's important! Bart thought, but he sent something very different back.

"OK, will do."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

With that, Bart quickly left the toilet and wandered around aimlessly, thinking about what to do. Obviously blasting Draco wouldn't accomplish anything, while he wasn't confident that he could force the blond to shut up about the whole affair – the kid was a consummate loudmouth, after all.

Finally, Bart figured that he had no choice but to tell Headmaster Dumbledore. He was not normally one to trust or confide in authority figures, especially one with an alleged history as chequered as the headmaster's, but he was quite indulgent and kindly as far as authority figures went. He didn't really care if Draco or Hagrid were removed from Hogwarts, but he hoped that when push came to shove, the elderly mage would be lenient on Harry.

With that, he bolted towards the Headmaster's Office. Unfortunately, a voice rang out as he passed a corridor.

"Stop right there."

Bart stopped and turned around. He didn't like what he saw – a certain red-headed prefect, with wand in hand. With a scowl, he regarded the prefect.

"Weasley."

Weasley furrowed his brow in both recognition and contempt.

"Simpson. What are you doing out of class?"

"I don't know. What are you doing out of class?" Bart asked, voice oozing with irritation.

"Simpson, I am a prefect. This is my spare period. I'm authorised to be out of class. You are not."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Talk to me with that potty mouth again and I will give you a detention. Now get to class."

"OK. Hey Weasley."

"What?" the older boy growled.

"Have you heard the story about the Emperor with no clothes?"

"What are you - " the boy began, only to find himself stark naked.

"ARGH! What did you do to me?" Weasley yelled as he covered his privates.

"Nothing. Weasley, you shouldn't expose yourself like that; we're not all gay like you", Bart taunted.

"I-I-A teacher's going to hear about this, Simpson!" Weasley threatened as he bolted, hands on his privates all the while, while Bart cackled evilly.

I don't know why I didn't get around to pranking him earlier, Bart thought as he headed to the Headmaster's Office, still quivering with laughter.

When he entered, he found the headmaster sitting and contemplating heaven knows what.

"Ah, young Bart. What can I do for you on this lovely day?" Headmaster Dumbledore began.

"Well, I found out from…other people…that Hagrid has a dragon inside his wooden hut. You'll probably want him to get rid of it before he gets in trouble or burns himself alive in his own hut."

The headmaster looked somewhat resigned – Bart got the impression that this wasn't the first time that Hagrid had brought a dangerous creature into the school grounds.

"Yes, you're right Bart. Parents would not take kindly to having a dragon reside near their students. I'll have it removed from the premises promptly. Thank you for informing me, and take 5 points for Slytherin."

Bart smiled gratefully. "No problem, sir. By the way, what's in that forest near Hagrid's Hut?"

"Many, many dangerous creatures. That's why it's forbidden, Bart. You're not thinking of exploring the forest, I trust?"

"Absolutely not, sir", Bart lied. Well, that's one more thing on my to-do list, then.

"I'm very glad to hear it. Well, have a good day."

"You too, sir", Bart replied as he ventured out. As ever, he kept a neutral countenance, but inside he was laughing like a madman.

Ah, I love this school. So much to see and do…well, I'd better write Harry.

After entering an abandoned classroom and cloaking himself, he sent Harry a message.

"Harry, the dragon's being removed from Hogwarts tonight. If Mal-formed accuses you or Hermione of anything, just lie like hell. He won't be able to prove anything."

"Thanks Bart."

"No problem."

A few days later, he was cruising down the corridor during his free period when a lady with an easily recognisable Scottish accent called out to him, voice tinged with anger.

"Mr. Simpson!"

I guess I don't need to ask her what she wants, Bart thought, having already resigned himself to a detention. But it was worth it just to see the look on Weasley's face!

When Professor McGonagall came up to him, she looked angrier at Bart than she had ever been. Usually she was stern but strangely indulgent of Bart's smart mouth and trickery; now she was a picture of perfect rage, with a red face, a furrowed brow and multitudes of facial lines which combined to form a massive frown.

"Come with me", she tersely commanded.

Bart tentatively followed, hoping that he hadn't earnt himself an expulsion.

When they reached her office, Bart found that it had a large fireplace and windows overlooking the Quidditch pitch. Quickly, his Transfiguration teacher pointed to a recliner beside the fireplace.

"Sit", she spat.

Bart hastily complied as she sat down in the other recliner.

"Mr. Simpson, Mr. Weasley came up and told me an intriguing story."

"And that was?" Bart asked innocently.

"Mr. Simpson, do not be coy with me. You know full well that Mr. Weasley's clothes suddenly vanished after you both exchanged a few words!"

"Suddenly vanished? I've never heard of anything like that. How could that possibly have happened?"

"Because you made it happen."

"But I'm only a first-year, Professor", Bart replied in his most innocent tone. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

"Yes, a first-year with a history of vanishing other people's clothes!" the Professor replied, spit flying all the while.

Damn. I forgot that I was a legend among wizarding teachers.

"Mr. Simpson, for your disgraceful behaviour towards a prefect, I will take 50 points from Slytherin and you will be serving detention! In the Forbidden Forest! Tonight! With Hagrid!"

At that, Bart suddenly cheered up. Outwardly he put on his best 'fear face' but deep inside he was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

So tonight's the night, huh? Oh, this is just too perfect. Even in detention I can still do what I wanted to do in the first place. I just hope the Forbidden Forest is worth it…

Author's Notes for Chapter Thirteen

A pretty condensed, wide-ranging chapter here. Truth be told, much of what went on in the Philosopher's Stone was unnecessary to repeat. As ever, I hope that all 5 of my readers enjoy it (LOL).