Chapter Sixteen
After jumping through the flames, Bart and Harry landed with a start.
Well, that was pretty cool. That's the first time I've jumped through fire and not felt anything, Bart thought. However, he was shaken out of his thoughts by Harry hissing something into his ear.
"That's the mirror that shows you your deepest desire."
However, Bart's attention was focused not on the mirror, but rather on a certain someone staring into the mirror, holding an expression which brooked both intrigue and frustration - a certain someone with a turban.
"Quirrell", Bart muttered.
Having heard the young mage, the rogue professor turned around and regarded him with a demented smirk.
"That's right, Simpson. Quirrell. P-poor, i-incompetent, s-stuttering Quirrell. I bet you're surprised to see me here, aren't you, you little wretch?"
Bart responded with typical nonchalance as he shook his head.
"No, not really."
Quirrell raised his eyebrows briefly, but then narrowed his eyes and hissed, in a cold, deliberate, sharp tone that betrayed no evidence of any stutter whatsoever, "You're lying. You had no reason to suspect that I wanted the Stone."
The turbaned terror's anger, however, merely provoked a wider smirk from Bart as he knowingly replied, "Yes I did. I heard that you met with Snape. I thought you were either trying to steal the Stone by yourself, or that you were working with Snape to steal it.
I'm also a Slytherin for a reason. I know how to manipulate people into thinking that I'm not a threat - so I thought that your stuttering might have just been an act."
Quirrell looked thoroughly enraged at hearing this, such that you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.
Bart's former professor thought, I should have known; after all, he helped bring down that troll. He was probably also responsible for getting Potter and himself past the giant as well. Plus all those rumours I've heard from teachers about him performing wandless transfiguration and vanishing charms on prefects. Yes, he's definitely too dangerous to keep alive. He might defeat my master in years to come. His resultant response caught Bart completely by surprise.
"Avada Kedavra!" the turbaned terror yelled, firing a blinding green light at Bart, with an ominous rushing sound following the light. It was all that Bart could do to dodge the curse, seize Harry and shove them both behind a wall as the green jet whizzed through the flames.
Outside, Ron and Hermione were staring at the flames intently.
"What do you think they're doing in there?" Hermione asked.
The answer came in a flash, as a murderous jet of green light shot straight towards her.
"Get DOWN!" Ron yelled, tackling Hermione as the death beam missed her head by mere millimetres.
Hermione looked terrified. "What in the world was that?" she exclaimed.
"An Avada Kedavra. The Killing Curse. My mum told me that it kills whoever it hits." Ron then looked at the flames again before screwing his face up and yelling, "Hold on, Harry! I'm coming!"
He dashed towards the flames but before he could complete more than a few paces Hermione grabbed his legs and brought him to the ground with a thud.
"No, Ron! NO! You'll kill yourself!"
"But Harry…"
"There's nothing we can do. We can't even get through those flames, so how can we help them?"
Ron sighed in frustration. Harry, please pull through mate!
Meanwhile, Bart's insides filled with dread, heart beating rapidly and breathing becoming heavy. He could also hear Harry panting nervously next to him.
That curse would have killed me! he thought as he realised that he was up against yet another would-be killer of the Sideshow Bob mould. After giving his bespectacled friend a brief glance, he closed his eyes and meditated momentarily, collecting his thoughts all the while.
OK Bart, pull yourself together. You could survive Sideshow Bob; you can also survive Turban Dude and grab that Stone for yourself.
It was then that Quirrell advanced; his firm, decisive footsteps contrasting from the nervous shuffle that Bart had come to expect from the treacherous turban-wearer.
"Come out, Simpson!" the man harshly ordered. "You can't escape me!"
Having heard Quirrell's words, Bart decided that it was now or never. If the spell that he had been practising in the duelling arena for so long could ever be a game-changer, now was the time.
"You want me out, Squirrel?" Bart cheekily asked, hoping to anger the man into losing concentration.
"Yes, I want you out!" Quirrell barked, punctuating his reply with yet another Avada Kedavra, which blasted out a chunk of the wall, mere millimetres away from Bart's nose.
Well, that sure got him angry. "You got it!" Bart replied as he pressed his wand to his thigh, closed his eyes and muttered, "Bāsākā!"
Immediately, a warm sensation flowed through Bart's body like a hot cup of coffee during a harsh winter, as his mouth became dry and his throat parched. His heart-rate similarly increased, until it felt like his heart would burst through his chest. His nerves also gave way to a manic desire to fight – he felt like he could take on a whole army and win.
Oh yeah, that's the stuff! he thought as he jumped out from behind the wall, dodged a third Killing Curse and immediately engaged Quirrell with every spell in his repertoire. From Stupefy to Relashio to Glacius; if Bart knew it, he used it.
Indeed, curses were veritably pouring out of Bart's wand, such was the fanatical fervour with which he was casting them. For his part, Quirrell couldn't get a spell in edgewise, instead being forced to defend against Bart's relentless barrage, stepping back slowly as he either deflected or dodged the boy's spells.
Yes! I have him on the ropes! Bart thought, sheer adrenaline driving him forward, as he sought to deliver the finishing blow.
Unfortunately, he never had the chance. For just as Quirrell had his back to the mirror, the Bāsākā spell's effects immediately ceased. The comedown was terrible, as Bart sunk to his knees, sheer exhaustion overcoming the adrenaline that spurred him on mere moments before. Indeed, it was fortunate that he had not eaten recently, otherwise he would have vomited on the spot.
Moreover, his nerves had returned full force as he saw Quirrell's shadow draw his wand and stand over him. Nerves than became terror as Bart realised that Quirrell was executing him on the spot. He could not bring himself to lift his chin up so that he could make eye contact with the turbaned menace; instead, he hung his head like the condemned person he so obviously was.
However, before he could cast the killing blow, a second, higher voice spoke.
"Stop."
It is funny what one single word can do. It can unleash wars, lead to life-changing marriages and in this case, stop Quirrell from murdering Bart in cold blood. Instead, Bart saw the man's shadow stand bolt upright and address the second voice in a manner betraying both confusion and fear.
"M-master?"
This new dude must be scaring him shitless, Bart thought with glee. However, glee turned to apprehension when the second voice piped up in its cold, high tone.
"Quirrell, let me speak to Bart Simpson – face-to-face."
Quirrell protested. "You want to speak to this worthless Mudblood? Why don't I just kill him? He's obviously too dangerous to live as it is."
"You understand the consequence of disobeying one of Lord Voldemort's orders, do you not?"
Upon hearing the name 'Lord Voldemort', Bart's eyebrows shot up into the stratosphere and he heard Harry gasp from a distance.
Unfortunately, both Quirrell and Voldemort heard that sound.
"Who was that?" Voldemort asked.
"Potter, I believe", Quirrell replied.
"Potter, as in Harry Potter, you say? Quirrell, do you mind bringing young Harry over? I think it's time he and I had a little chat."
Bart growled. Now his friend was not only in trouble, but could possibly be used for leverage against Bart by his two adversaries.
The turbaned servant complied, pointing his wand at a metaphorically petrified Harry before bellowing "Carpe Retractum!"
However, despite Harry's struggles, he duly found himself kneeling next to Bart, seemingly willing himself not to shake in fear in front of the man who killed his parents.
It was after that when the second voice once again spoke, his cold, high-pitched tone sending a chill down Harry's spine and even unnerving Bart a tad.
Dude sounds like Michael Jackson on helium.
After Bart thought that, a cold, high-pitched laugh rang throughout the room. If his mere tone was unnerving, his full-blown laugh was fit for a horror movie. It took all that Bart had to not shiver in revulsion.
"Michael Jackson on helium, Bart? I sound like that filthy Muggle entertainer, do I? Really, killing him would have done the world a great service."
Bart looked shocked for a moment. "Wait? How did you know I thought that? I didn't even make eye contact with you! And how the hell does a dark wizard who's god-knows-how many years old know about Michael Jackson?"
"Well, unlike many practitioners of Legilimency, I do not need to make eye contact to read people's thoughts. Secondly, I've been to many Mudblood and Halfblood homes in my time – plenty of them had at least one record by that loathsome entertainer. But what can you say? I guess that filthy musicians and filthy blood go together!"
Ignoring the cracks about 'Mudbloods', Bart asked after having an epiphany, Did you guys give the dragon egg to Hagrid? And why?
"Yes, Quirrell did so on my order. I thought that a filthy half-giant, or whatever type of creature he was, was not fit to remain at Hogwarts in any capacity. Schools should be for wizards, not half-breed freaks. I thought that being caught with a dragon egg in his possession would see him expelled from the grounds or jailed."
Bart decided to meditate and clear his mind of stray thoughts while Harry added his two cents.
"Hagrid was my friend! And you gits were planning to take his job away from him? Just because he might be part-giant or whatever?"
"Sure. Many students would be very grateful, not having to see that beast defile the hallowed grounds of Hogwarts."
"So WHAT? He was my FRIEND! I guess you guys are going to tell me you broke into Gringotts to collect that package from Vault 713?"
"We did."
Harry stared at them momentarily, betraying his genuine surprise. Even Bart was taken aback – he hitherto had no idea that Gringotts had even been broken into. However, Harry continued his questioning.
"Did you let the troll into the castle and release a giant into the chamber as well?"
"Yes, we did."
"Of course", Harry groaned.
"Yes, having Quirrell transfigure those two foul creatures back and forth was child's play given my abilities. The troll was to be a distraction so that my dear associate Quirrell could get to the Philosopher's Stone.
Unfortunately, not only did Bart here bring down the troll, but Snape headed Quirrell off before he could get past the dog, though not before injuring his leg in the process."
Bart's ears perked up when he heard Voldemort mention Professor Snape's injured leg. So that's why his leg was injured during that detention he gave me for fighting the troll.
"Yeah, well. What about Snape? Is he working for you as well?"
Bart waited in bated breath for Voldemort's answer. Surely Captain Hook wouldn't be working for Voldemort, would he?
Voldemort laughed again. "You certainly have some nerve, Bart, calling me Voldemort and naming your Head of House after a Muggle Sea Captain. Call me that again, however, and there will be consequences. Understand?"
Bart nodded.
"As to your question, Harry -"
"DON'T CALL ME BY MY FIRST NAME! YOU DIDN'T GIVE IT TO ME; MY PARENTS DID! AND YOU KILLED THEM!" Harry bellowed in rage, as Bart groaned in frustration.
"You're not in a position to give me orders, Harry", the fiend responded as he twisted the metaphorical knife. "Now, Severus is not exactly working for me at the present time, the way that dear Quirinus here is. Maybe he will make my acquaintance once I've been revived, maybe not. If he does not, he will pay."
Bart and Harry gave each other a look before Bart continued where Harry had left off.
"So…why did you just tell us all of that? What if we go running to Dumbledore?"
"Well, what if I was to say that you two would not be leaving this room alive unless you both joined me?"
Deathly silence reigned after that thinly-veiled threat, but Voldemort relented with a sigh.
"Maybe your decision will be made easier if we discussed things…face-to-face. Quirrell, do you mind showing them whom they are talking to? Talking to a turban gets a tad tiresome at length."
Quirrell, with some hesitation, duly and delicately unwound the turban, presumably to avoid antagonising Voldemort. However, nothing could have prepared Bart or Harry for the result.
Frankly, both were too startled to scream at the snake-like visage staring right back at them. Its creepy nature was only accentuated by its glaring red eyes. Hell, its chalk-white skin even evoked Michael Jackson, to the point that Bart strained not to think about him.
Voldemort regarded them with what must have been his attempt at a smile, for it creeped the boys out even more than his initially neutral expression.
"Bartholomew Simpson. Harry Potter. Two friends uniting to steal the Stone from the evil clutches of Lord Voldemort – or does one of them want the Stone for himself?"
Harry looked nonplussed. "What are you talking about? Bart's my friend!"
Voldemort adopted a nightmarish smirk. "Yes, maybe so, but that doesn't mean that he isn't after the Stone for himself. Isn't that right, Bart?"
Harry stared at Bart in shock, with Bart bowing his head down, unable to make eye contact with the myopic magician.
"You-you're lying!" Harry croaked.
"Harry, I can enter people's minds and acquire…understand…even influence their thoughts if necessary. Bart unwittingly revealed his intentions during his little fight with Quirrell. Really, I'd be more surprised if he didn't want the stone for himself. The chance for endless wealth and immortality…only a fool would pass that up."
Harry craned his neck towards Bart again, who was still refraining from eye contact. While he examined his friend, a tsunami of negative feelings washed over him. Betrayal. Anger. Disappointment. Hurt. How could Bart abuse his trust like this?
All the while, Voldemort chuckled evilly.
"Yes, a Slytherin does what a Slytherin does, Harry. Bart might be brave and reckless, but he is also cunning, even ambitious when he wants to be – using others to grab a rare Stone is certainly cunning and ambitious, isn't it?
Now, Bart, you may be a Mudblood with too many Gryffindor traits for my liking, but I can see that you were ultimately born to be in Slytherin. In light of your prodigious talent, I will generously overlook your blood status and offer you a place at my side among my Death Eaters. I can offer you wealth beyond compare – and the opportunity to cheat death. So, do you accept?"
Bart thought long and hard about Voldemort's offer. The promise of wealth and immortality was indeed tempting. Plus he knew that he would probably be murdered if he refused Voldemort's offer. Hell, he could even try to bring Voldemort's organisation down from the inside later on!
On the other hand, he had been in something like this situation before. Mr. Burns, who resembled Voldemort in terms of personality, had offered to make Bart his heir – provided he cut ties to his biological family first. However, Bart could not bring himself to do so at the time.
Bart realised that the situation was much the same here. He valued his relationships with Harry, Gemma, Daphne and Tracey. Hell, he had even grown to respect Hermione and Ron some. He knew that if he joined Voldemort, those relationships would be over.
Plus it was obvious that the snake-faced fiend in front of him despised Muggles and Muggleborns – like his family. If he joined Voldemort's cause, he'd essentially be betraying his family.
Moreover, even if he did try to bring down Voldemort's organisation from the inside, how could he hide his intentions against someone who could open minds like most people open books?
"No", came Bart's concise reply, as Harry gasped.
"No? Are you sure, Bart? Are you sure that you want to throw away the chance to be rich and immortal?"
"Yes", Bart croaked, as if it pained him to answer.
"Very well, then", Voldemort replied, voice betraying grave disappointment. "Quirrell, you may kill him."
Bart hung his head, awaiting the sweet release of death.
It never came.
Instead, he heard a crashing sound and some grunting, which was followed up by an agonising, unholy scream.
What the hell's going on? Bart thought as he reared his head up. What he saw astonished him.
It was Harry kneeling over Quirrell, grasping the turbaned man's face. As he did so, Quirrell's face appeared to be suffering from something beyond a fourth-degree burn. The burning appeared to go beyond the layers of tissue. Indeed, Quirrell's skin appeared to be melting into some sort of bloody goo, which dripped on the floor. It was a scene fit for Bart's worst nightmares, as it took him all his strength not to vomit. He actually admired how Harry clung onto their ex-professor for dear life.
Eventually, all of Quirrell's facial skin had burnt off, revealing only a skull, which dissolved into ash along with the rest of his body. A black wraith had emerged and looked set to attack Harry when a voice behind them shouted, "Harry! Bart!"
Upon hearing the voice, the black wraith flew past Bart and through the flames behind them. As Bart tracked its progress, he finally laid eyes upon the originator of the voice; none other than Headmaster Dumbledore.
"I'm glad that I came just in time to rescue you two. Another second later and Lord Voldemort would probably have tried to possess one of you." Probably Bart. Seeing Harry on his knees panting profusely at the spot where Quirrell once lay, the headmaster quickly strode to him and asked, "Are you alright, Harry?"
After a few deep breaths, Harry replied, "I'm fine, sir. My scar was really hurting, though."
The headmaster nodded and replied, "That doesn't come as a surprise. I would aver that your scar hurts when Lord Voldemort is nearby, or when he is feeling particularly murderous."
Harry nodded in understanding. "Sir, where is the Stone?"
The centenarian headmaster smiled indulgently before responding in typically enigmatic fashion. "Well, why don't you look at the mirror and find out? Perhaps it will help you, should you not wish to use the Stone."
Harry complied as Bart looked on avidly. He could vaguely make out Harry's pallid reflection in the mirror smiling at him and pulling a stone from its pocket, before it winked at Harry and placed it back in its pocket.
Almost instantly, Harry felt his real pocket. The stone was obviously there; Bart could only watch with awe, having never witnessed such a thing before.
Wow! The Stone! Too bad I already missed my chance to take it, Bart thought as awe turned into depression.
For his part, Harry held the Philosopher's Stone up to the sky like a trophy. Observing it closely, Bart saw that it was a dazzling ruby-red colour that lit up its surrounds.
"So this is the Stone?" Harry asked, as transfixed by it as Bart was.
The headmaster flashed his trademark smile, but his answer surprised both boys.
"No."
"WHAT?" they both shouted in unison, to which the headmaster merely chuckled.
"No, it's not. Did you really think that I would leave something as valuable as the Philosopher's Stone in an area where an adversary could acquire it?"
"But then why did you have the mirror protect the stone from people who wanted to use it?" Harry asked.
"Oh, that was just so any potential adversary would be contained here for longer, by which time I would hopefully be able to apprehend them. If not, the decoy stone would be useless, anyway."
Bart looked like he had just been told that Christmas had been cancelled. "You mean to tell me that we risked our lives for a goddamn decoy?"
Headmaster Dumbledore nodded but replied, "Yes, Bart. But you helped to thwart Voldemort. I promise that you will be rewarded for that, along with your allies."
That brought a smile to Bart's face. A reward. Just what I deserve for being a hero.
"Now let us depart this place. The others are waiting for us outside", the headmaster ordered, as he led Bart and Harry through the flames.
When they emerged, there stood Professor Snape, Gemma, Hermione and Ron. Hermione screamed, "Harry! Thank god you're alright!" before rushing over to hug him, with Ron not far behind.
Unfortunately, Bart didn't receive the same reaction from Gemma or Professor Snape. The latter looked at Bart as if he had just swallowed a live puppy, while Gemma gave him a stony glare.
I guess she doesn't appreciate all that healthy exercise she got chasing me up those stairs.
Finally, Gemma strode over and tightly hugged him before shaking him by his shoulders.
"You idiot! This is just like that time you ran off to see a troll! You just don't learn, do you? You can't always put yourself in danger like this! One day you are going to die!"
She looked shaken as she said that. In fact, if Bart didn't know better he would have thought that she looked on the verge of tears.
Yet again, Gemma had managed to make Bart feel ashamed of his behaviour, as he bowed his head down, not being able to make eye contact with those beautiful brown eyes of hers. However, that didn't mean he wasn't going to defend himself.
"Gemma, I had to go! I had to stop Quirrell!" I can't tell her the real reason I went down there…
"No you didn't! You didn't have to risk your life like that! Let the teachers try and stop him; that's their job! Besides, I warned you about associating with Gryffindors!"
Realising he was not persuading Gemma, Bart decided to try another tack.
"Would you feel better if I told you I've probably won Slytherin some points?"
Gemma gave him a half-smile. "A little – but what good would some house points do if you die?" And my plans for you aren't realised as a result?
"Well, I'm still alive, so who cares?"
Gemma shook her head and laughed wearily at Bart's chutzpah before replying.
"Bart, you will be the death of me one day. Now that I think about it, you figured out the Philosopher's Stone was at Hogwarts because I told you about it. Am I right?" she asked with a knowing smile.
Bart nodded and smirked in response, before Professor Snape stepped in to kill his mood.
"Simpson. For recklessly endangering your life again, you will be serving a detention with me tomorrow night."
"Ah Severus, go easy on the boy. He just helped to thwart Lord Voldemort!" the headmaster exclaimed, having just come up to the trio.
"Albus, might I remind you that Simpson has constantly misbehaved throughout the year and has put himself in mortal danger more than once? If anyone warrants discipline, it is him!"
"Severus, your concerns about young Bart's behaviour have merit, but I insist that allowances be made in this instance", the headmaster replied, in a tone that strongly suggested that the hook-nosed professor had no choice in the matter.
Professor Snape looked like he wanted to throw himself off the nearest cliff, but nonetheless slowly nodded and replied in his most acerbic tone, "Very well. Simpson, I will rescind your detention. But don't expect Professor Dumbledore's leniency if you do something like this again!"
Bart did nothing but smirk, knowing that it would incense his head of house further, before Headmaster Dumbledore led them all out.
Before long, the entire group found themselves huddled in Headmaster Dumbledore's office.
"Well, I'm sure you four had quite the adventure down there", the elderly wizard began, gesturing to Bart and the Gryffindor trio, "and your endeavour to thwart Lord Voldemort deserves nothing but the highest praise."
Goodness me, Bart fought You-Know-Who and survived? Gemma thought in shock, before Headmaster Dumbledore continued.
"However, as I explained to young Bart and Harry previously, the Philosopher's Stone that Lord Voldemort was after was naught but a decoy."
"WHAT?" Ron, Hermione and Gemma blurted out. Even Professor Snape's eyes widened, though he narrowed them soon afterwards as he realised that he had been tricked into guarding a decoy.
Dumbledore, you sly old fox. I should have known that you would never have left the real Philosopher's Stone in a place where Quirrell or another enemy could possibly obtain it. Sometimes I'm amazed that you were never in Slytherin, the hook-nosed man thought with a knowing smirk.
"That's right – a decoy which I specifically placed in and then removed from Gringotts to leave Quirrell under the false impression that the decoy Stone was in fact the real one.
The one mistake I did make was not properly securing the door leading to the Cerberus. Students could have died. Please forgive this old man that mistake", Dumbledore finished, with a tinge of sorrow in his voice.
"Well…where is the real Stone?" Bart asked.
"I'm glad that you asked, young Bart", the headmaster replied with a whiplash smile, as he pulled out a slip of paper before enlarging it so that the whole room could see it. "If all of you would kindly read the text on this slip of paper in unison, you will discover the location of the real Philosopher's Stone."
"The Philosopher's Stone may be found in Professor Dumbledore's top drawer", read the entire room.
Immediately after they finished, Professor Dumbledore pulled open his top drawer and held the genuine Philosopher's Stone high above the ground. The entire room, bar Professor Snape, gaped and gasped in awe, obviously realising that so much as sighting a Philosopher's Stone was a rarefied experience.
"Yes, a Philosopher's Stone is indeed an extraordinary object. It can produce gold from metal, and immortality from the Elixir of Life.
Unfortunately, that is what makes it so dangerous in the wrong hands. Can you imagine a corrupted individual using gold to buy influence, or immortality to extend their reign of terror? As such…it must be destroyed post-haste", the aged mage finished wearily, as the Philosopher's Stone slowly disintegrated in his hand, gram by gram. As it did so, it released ruby-red flame that encircled the ceiling above the students, creating a spectacular firestorm. All bar Professor Dumbledore were entranced by the display, before the flames slowly vanished into nothing.
Wow, that was awesome! Bart thought, before a question came to the tip of his tongue.
"Headmaster Dumbledore…what happens to that Nicolas Flaming guy now?"
"Flamel", Hermione corrected sotto voce, with a roll of the eyes.
With a chortle, Headmaster Dumbledore responded. "Well, Nicolas and his wife will eventually pass on – but not before they use whatever amount of Elixir they have to get their affairs in order. Now, will any one of you four mind informing me exactly what you did?"
At that, Bart surreptitiously made eye contact with Dumbledore, who avidly peered at him for a minute. He then gave Bart a subtle nod before breaking eye contact.
He used Legilimency on Bart, Gemma thought with astonishment, having never witnessed him doing so before.
"Yes indeed, it seems that you four have had a most eventful time of things. You four have overcome challenges and travails that would have been beyond the vast majority of wizards."
"So are you going to reward us?" Bart asked quickly.
"Most certainly."
"As part of my reward, can I please hold a press conference describing what happened? In front of the entire school?" So I can be famous and get lots of money from interviews and book sales?
The entire room bar the headmaster groaned at Bart's blatant attention-seeking, but even the headmaster looked somewhat perturbed. "May I ask why, young Bart?"
"Well, these things have a way of getting out. It's better for everyone to know the truth, so rumours don't spread about me, or the rest of us, getting it on with Professor Quirrell, like what happened with me and the troll. Or maybe people spreading rumours that you let us go down there by ourselves." Yeah, that'll convince him.
"Albus, you're not seriously thinking about honouring Simpson's demented request, are you?" spluttered Professor Snape. The world already has one Gilderoy Lockhart; we don't need another.
"As a matter of fact, I will, Severus. Untrue rumours about what happened will likely be much more damaging to this school's reputation than the truth. I will inform world-renowned journalists of proceedings as I am aware of them and then invite them to ask the students involved further questions. However, I would advise all participants not to say anything that can be used against them, particularly where a journalist named Rita Skeeter is concerned."
This is the perfect opportunity to raise my profile. "May I participate in this conference, Professor Dumbledore?" obsequiously asked Gemma.
Just like her parents, wanting to increase her status by any means possible. "I don't see why not, Miss Farley. Would anybody else like to participate?"
"I wouldn't", Harry growled, glaring irritably at Bart. The last thing he wanted was more attention, and yet Bart was going to give it to him anyway. Is he really a friend? First taking advantage of my trust, now this.
"Nor would I", responded Hermione, giving Bart a deathly glare.
"Certainly not myself", tersely replied Professor Snape as he painstakingly enunciated every syllable, all the while giving Bart an even more murderous glare.
"I would", casually replied Ron. This is my chance to show the world I'm not just another Weasley.
The other two Gryffindors gasped at Ron's admission; even Bart looked surprised.
Whoa, didn't see that coming.
"Very well. I will contact news outlets around the world and have one set up in the next week. Now, as for your other rewards. All four first-year students will receive Special Awards for Services to the School.
Miss Granger, for bringing down the Cerberus, destroying the Venomous Tentacula, and exercising an excellent command of logic in discerning which potions to drink, I award 60 points to Gryffindor.
Mr. Weasley, for adept marshalling of chess pieces, and turning of a key, I award 50 points to Gryffindor.
Mr. Potter, for outstanding observational and diving skills, potentially saving Mr. Simpson's life, plus vanquishing a dangerous wizard, I award 80 points to Gryffindor.
Mr. Simpson, for bringing down the Cerberus and the winged key, immobilising a giant, waylaying a giant suit of armour, leading by example in going through the trapdoor first, effectively using both common and uncommon spells, potentially saving the life of at least one of the Gryffindor students, and duelling a dangerous wizard, I award 125 points to Slytherin.
Miss Farley, for alerting Professor Snape and indirectly myself to the predicament of the four first-year students, in the process probably saving their lives, I award 50 points to Slytherin."
Gasps and gapes abounded around the room. Hermione was crying tears of joy, Ron was blushing like a sunset, Harry looked humbled, Bart looked smug and Gemma looked rapt, as she hugged Bart tightly. As Bart hugged her back, he briefly looked at Professor Snape to gauge his reaction. In response, the usually hostile professor gave him the briefest flicker of a smile.
That's the closest thing I'll ever receive to a compliment from him. I may as well take it, bitterly thought Bart as he gave him a small smile in response.
"Severus, Miss Farley, do you mind escorting Hermione and Ronald back to their common room? I wish to speak with Bart and Harry privately."
The two Slytherins nodded, with Professor Snape roughly gesturing for the two first-years to follow him. They both did so, but not before Ron gave Harry a long-suffering look. After they left, the elderly mage turned to Bart.
"Bart, what was the real reason you wanted to hold a press conference?"
"What I said, sir", Bart lied.
The headmaster sighed. This wasn't the first time that Bart had frustrated him with his secrecy. However, he decided to let it go, but not before delivering a few words of warning.
"Fair enough Bart. But let me please humbly remind you that fame can be a double-edged sword. It can increase your profile, but it can also harm your reputation. Remember the aftermath of the encounter with the troll."
Bart nodded, before Headmaster Dumbledore asked him to leave. However, rather than going straight back to the Slytherin Common Room, he disillusioned himself and waited for Harry.
After a while, Harry walked out. Bart quickly revealed himself and called out to his retreating figure.
"Hey Harry!"
Harry turned around but Bart didn't like the wary, distrustful expression on his face, nor his terseness in reply. "Yes?"
Sensing that something was wrong, Bart meekly asked, "Are…are we still friends?"
Harry sighed and shook his head. "I don't know, Bart. You betrayed my trust. You used us to grab the Stone for yourself. Then you decide to give me more attention by holding a bloody press conference about what we did. Attention! That's the last thing I want or need. Well, anyway…I'll think about it over the summer."
He then trooped away, leaving Bart feeling more forlorn than he had for a long time.
What have I done?
Author's Notes for Chapter Sixteen
Leaving the real Philosopher's Stone in a place where there was even a remote possibility that Quirrell/Voldemort could have obtained it was IMO one of the dumbest things Dumbledore did in the series. Far smarter to leave a decoy there to lure and then isolate them, while using the Fidelius Charm to conceal the real one in a more secure place.
I awarded points based on each student's overall contribution to thwarting Voldemort. Bart did much of the heavy lifting, so he gets the most points. Harry vanquished Quirrell, which is more notable than anything Hermione did, while Ron gets the least points for playing a relatively minor role. Gemma gets the same amount of points as Ron because, while she didn't participate in the quartet's adventures, her actions did probably save them from being possessed, or being trapped underneath forever.
Note that Quirrell is not referred to as 'Professor Quirrell'. At this point he is no longer Bart's teacher; he is just an enemy to be defeated.
Carpe Retractum can be used to lift living creatures; I don't see why a Voldemort-enhanced Quirrell could not lift an 11-year old child using this charm.
It is not clear to what degree Voldemort's possession affected Quirrell – it may have simply been that his personality was altered, but it wouldn't surprise me if Quirrell gained access to most or maybe even all of Voldemort's memories/abilities.
Michael Jackson was popular in around 1981 (when Voldemort killed Harry's parents), even in the UK. BTW, the recent allegations against Jackson make any comparison to him even creepier, which is what I was going for.
RE the Simpsons universe I'm very loose with chronology because it's a floating timeline; such is not true of the HP Universe.
bauers374: I got that line from a Midnight Oil song. They were only a one-hit wonder in the US (I think?) so you probably heard/read it from somewhere else.