Chapter Three
Early next morning, Bart rested on the guest room's two-poster bed. As he savoured the acromantula silk's smoothness, his thoughts turned to an old adversary.
I wonder if Drain-o would be happy with this bed? Probably not. Then again, he couldn't compete with my jockstrap, so he's always pissed. Maybe I can make him so pissed that he'll be begging Mullet Man to let him change schools before the year's out.
But how do I make it happen? Hmmm…I did promise Harry a car ride…and now I know how to give him a real cool ride!
His grin became a cackle as he bounded out of bed, changed into his custom-made robes, and verily strode out the door.
A few minutes later, Bart sat on the drawing room's sofa and observed how the fog lurking outside somewhat obscured the garden's lush greenery – not unlike how his Gryffindor qualities obscured his Slytherin nature.
However, such symbolism was lost on Bart, who was enjoying the massage his bottom was receiving before Jake sat next to him.
"Enjoying the view, Bart?"
"He-I mean, good morning Jake. Well, I don't really like the fog. Anyway…is there anything we can do to help Harry?" Bart pleadingly asked.
Jake sighed before massaging his face in consternation. He had never really liked Gryffindors, as they usually lacked his subtlety or foresight, but he quite liked Harry. Despite his seemingly dismal upbringing, the Potter boy was quite polite to him and his family.
That, and Jake disdained child abuse, even against Gryffindors. Sure, that was partially because the thought of his darling Gemma enduring abuse horrified him, but that disdain did persuade him to not join the Death Eaters, who seemingly prided themselves on plumbing new depths of depravity.
He therefore didn't feel comfortable resting in luxury while Harry endured an abusive home life, but he knew that reality often impeded justice. Hence…
"I'm not sure how to assist Harry, Bart. Truth be told, my knowledge of the Muggle world largely comes from Gemma's research and our personal interactions."
"Well, Harry told me that the Weasleys have a flying car. Maybe we can get one and rescue him from those No-M – I mean, Muggles, next year?"
Jake's eyes widened.
"Really? I assume that Arthur Weasley placed a Disillusionment Charm on the car so that Muggles couldn't see it in the sky?"
Who the hell is Arthur? Must be Ron's dad. "Why? Because he'd get in lots of trouble otherwise?"
Jake nodded solemnly. "Yes. Breaking the International Statute of Secrecy is a serious offence."
"Like being jailed serious, or…?"
"He'd likely have to sell his house. From what I understand, the Weasleys are borderline destitute. But do you know how to operate one?"
"I have an American driver's licence", Bart slickly noted. "So can we please buy it today?"
"Who said anything about buying it?" Jake replied with deceptive innocence.
Understanding what Jake meant, Bart smirked. So we're getting a five-finger discount, are we? Sounds good…
Some hours later, a disillusioned Bart, Jake and Sleazy found themselves not only at the desired entrance, but also near the desired car. It was as if fate was willing Bart to steal the car, and whom was he to disappoint fate?
This couldn't be going any better. "This is the car I want", he cockily whispered to Jake before some uncertainty surfaced. "But…how are we going to steal it without people seeing us?" he asked, observing how the cars and their licence plates surged down the street.
Jake smirked. "That's why we brought Sleazy. Sleazy, put everybody on this street to sleep – and don't talk unless I do first", Jake commanded Sleazy sotto voce.
Sleazy nodded before clicking his fingers, sending everyone in the area to sleep. Unfortunately, the sleeping drivers couldn't prevent their cars from forming part of a pileup that could make jaws drop across many a mile. Jaws like Bart and Jake's…
Oooh, a lotta people are gonna be hurtin' after that!
"Sleazy, could you not turn off the cars as well?" Jake hissed.
"Sorry master Jake, sir. But Sleazy doesn't know how to make cars sleep, only people."
The din of police and ambulance sirens then became audible. "We'd better take the car and go. People will be here soon. I'll grab the door handle."
Jake nodded. With seconds, the trio found themselves in Farley Manor's front yard. Their sudden appearance startled the family's peacock which, after taking flight, loosened its bowels above the car's roof.
SPLAT!
After Bart and Jake shared a good old rousing round of hearty laughter, the Farley patriarch Scourgified the roof. He then stepped back and narrowed his eyes.
"Hmmm…a true Slytherin wouldn't drive a car that isn't green."
"True. Allow me", Bart replied in an oily voice, as he pictured a cool, dark green car inside his mind. Lo and behold, the car before him matched his mental image.
"There. Nice, shiny, and green", Bart remarked, insouciantly brushing his hands together before changing the licence plates.
"Very impressive, Bart."
"Thank you. So how do we make the car fly?"
"I'll ask my goblin contacts. They'll find individuals with experience modifying Muggle items."
Jake nodded before turning to Sleazy. He looks rather lost. Maybe I should send him on his way.
"Sleazy, you may perform your favourite…activities now", Jake commanded with a cringe.
"Yes sir, master Jake! Sleazy will now go get some!" Sleazy cheerily informed him, adopting his usual mischievous impression.
"Just…please don't bring it back, OK?" Jake asked in an almost pleading tone.
Sleazy nodded before vanishing with a smirk.
Bart clutched his stomach as he fought off a massive belly laugh. "H-has he actually done that before?!"
Jake momentarily winced. "Yes, but that shouldn't be discussed or thought about. Ever. Do you understand?"
Wow, he really means business. I don't want him to go all Sideshow Bob on me, so I'd better not screw with him, Bart thought before quickly nodding.
Jake adopted a cold, unsettling smirk. "Good", he replied coolly before adopting his usual tone. "Now, let us join Bella and Gemma for dinner. The day's rapidly growing old."
Bart loosened up. After all, why be so tense when dinner was around the corner? He then followed Jake into Farley Manor, but not before his thoughts turned to a better tomorrow.
Over two weeks later, that better tomorrow emerged for Bart who, alongside Gemma and Ron, attended a meet-and-greet for their adoring fans outside Flourish & Blotts, while the surveiling Aurors ejected hecklers where necessary. Luckily for the trio, the bookstore gifted them with custom-made red-and-green feathered Self-Inking and Signing Quills, which turned a potentially strenuous session into a doddle. Indeed, the quills' dizzying pace thinned out both the number of unsigned photos and the crowd itself.
Oh man, this session will be over in a minute if I don't do something! Bart querulously thought. Luckily I know how to make a scene...
"GET YOUR SIGNED AUTOGRAPHS! FRESH FROM MY QUILL TO YOUR PHOTO! FOR A LIMITED TIME ONLY! GET 'EM BEFORE TIME RUNS OUT!" the young man shouted, repeating himself in French, Japanese, Cantonese, and even Latin. After all, what better way to attract attention than to holler in a dead language?
Sure enough, the frenzied crowd surged forward, with the Aurors preventing them from getting crushed against the charmed steel fence.
Cooool, a ruckus! Bart thought as his quill received a second wind.
However, not everyone responded positively. For example, Ron almost went green with envy, ironically enough.
There he goes again, drawing more attention to himself. Slytherin wanker.
Another individual was similarly perturbed.
"Enjoying yourself, Simpson?"
Don't tell me that's… Bart thought as he flicked his head up. Sure enough, Pansy Parkinson trained him with a particularly ugly scowl.
Oof, someone's not making Victoria's Secret anytime soon. "How it's hanging, Pant-sy?" Bart mockingly asked, as some of his fans laughed.
Not noticing Gemma's eyes burning into her brow, Pansy's scowl deepened. Before she fired back a withering retort, an older but more graceful voice piped up condescendingly.
"Now, now Pansy, be nice. It's not every day that you meet a celebrity."
What Bart then saw shouldn't have surprised him, but somehow did. There, standing before him with a supercilious smirk, was…
Pants Down's mum, Bart realised. Sure, her green eyes were further apart than her daughter's brown ones, but they were both so cold. It was like their eyes couldn't smile.
"Please forgive my daughter, Mr. Simpson. She can be very…highly strung."
Yeah, she should be.
"You know, I've been waiting for a long time to meet you face to face", she noted as she pushed back her dark, shoulder-length hair.
And I've been spending that time not giving a shit, Bart thought before the lady extended her hand.
"My name is Violet Parkinson, but you can call me Mrs. Parkinson."
Pfft, really? Is everyone in that stupid family named after flowers? What, is her sis named Daffy? Bart contemptuously thought. However, he felt the need to keep up a pleasant front in front of his adoring fans. So he delicately took Violet's hand and brushed it with his lips.
She probably has more cooties than half of England. Better be careful.
"A pleasure, Mrs. Parkinson", he unctuously replied.
Mrs. Parkinson smiled patronisingly.
"For a Muggleborn, you certainly are well-mannered, aren't you Mr. Simpson?"
"I most certainly am", Bart coolly replied. "Also, please call me Bart."
"Certainly, Bart. Well, you certainly are one for making waves, aren't you? Not only are you a celebrity, but you're also the first Muggleborn to be sorted into Slytherin for many decades. You must be very proud of yourself."
"I certainly am." Proud not to be a horse's ass like you.
"Well, isn't that something?" the older woman replied with a hint of mockery. She then turned her gaze to Gemma, who was making trite conversation with some fans.
"Ah, and if it isn't Miss Farley. I haven't seen you since last year, Gemma. You've certainly come a long way since then."
Whereas you've gone nowhere since then, Gemma contemptuously thought before appraising Violet with a dazzling smile.
"Yes, I would hope so, Violet. It's a pleasure to see you again."
She doesn't mean that, Bart astutely thought before Violet responded.
"You too, Gemma. Pansy told me that you have quite the relationship with Bart." You filthy blood traitor.
Knowing what Pansy's mother was implying, Gemma headed off her rising annoyance.
"Well, he's quite a vivacious boy." You bigoted bitch.
"No doubt", Violet replied before turning to Ron, who focused on engaging the crowd before him. "And you must be Ronald Weasley", she drawled.
Ron felt like jumping the fence and clocking her, but he didn't want his celebrity to descend into infamy. He instead looked up and nodded curtly.
"Yeah, I am. And you're obviously Pansy's mum." You're just as full of it.
"An astute observation, young Ronald", Violet noted, her sarcasm getting under the aggressive Gryffindor's skin.
"Thank you", Ron replied stiffly, although he sounded anything but grateful.
"You're most welcome", she gleefully replied as the Gryffindor's face betrayed his irritation. Gryffindors. They're always so reactive.
"What's going on here?" another voice piped up. Violet frowned and whipped her head to the right while Ron grinned for the first time that day.
"Well, how do you do, Arthur? And Molly, it's so good to see you."
Molly merely scowled, but Arthur did relucantly reciprocate her greeting.
"Hello, Violet. How is Benedict?"
"He's excellent, thank you."
"I'm glad to hear it", Arthur wearily replied.
Violet nodded before sidling up to Ginny.
"So this must be young Ginevra. Are you looking forward to your first year at Hogwarts?"
Ginny sullenly nodded, but before Violet could respond, a commotion occurred at the doorway. The Weasleys whirled around, only to witness the twins scuffling with…
"GET OFF ME, YOU WORTHLESS BLOOD TRAITORS!" Draco hollered.
"Unhand my son at once!" an older voice commanded in an aristocratic, haughty tone.
"He started it!" Fred protested.
"Yeah, he insulted our Mum!" George cried in consternation.
"That doesn't matter. I will not have my son manhandled by the likes of you", the older voice sneered, treating the twins like they were lepers.
Molly quickly marched towards them, while Arthur stood back with Ginny. He knew not to obstruct his wife when she was on the warpath.
"Leave my sons alone, Narcissa!"
The Malfoy matriarch greeted her with a truly ugly smile.
"Nice to hear your dulcet tones again, Molly. I see that you've raised your sons about as well as you've raised money."
"AT LEAST WE'RE NOT POOR IN ETHICS LIKE YOUR SCUMBAG HUSBAND!" Molly roared as her face turned red.
The tall, attractive blonde's face twitched angrily.
"Don't you dare talk about Lucius like that!"
"YEAH? WELL, WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?" Molly challenged, while the crowd watched them intently.
Narcissa looked like she wanted to turn Molly into a slug, but before she could even respond…
"Ladies, please break it up!" commanded a wiry, grey-haired Auror in a gravelly baritone which demanded the two witches' attention.
"Yes, we don't want anybody getting hurt", explained another, taller Auror with tanned skin, onyx eyes and shiny, slicked black hair. His voice, while less commanding, nonetheless conveyed pride.
The two Aurors stood back-to-back between the two witches.
Molly pierced the grey-haired Auror with a sharp look before taking a deep breath and sighing.
"OK", she replied in a more even voice before turning around. "Come on, boys."
As the twins walked away, Narcissa muttered, "that blood traitor wasn't worth the effort, anyway." She then patted Draco down before eyeing him with a concerned expression. "Are you OK, darling?"
Draco scowled in Bart's direction before turning and softening his expression.
"I'm fine, mother", he muttered.
Narcissa then checked whether he was injured before sighing and smiling.
"OK. Come, Draco. We've wasted far too much time here", Narcissa noted before turning to Violet, with her expression almost suggesting that she wanted something from the Parkinson matriarch.
The pair exchanged quickfire nods and smirks, after which Draco and Narcissa apparated.
The elder Parkinson then turned and regarded Bart, Gemma and the Weasleys with a cold smile.
"It's been a pleasure. But if you don't mind, Pansy and I must visit an apothecary. Pansy?"
Pansy nodded and smirked at Bart. "See you at Hogwarts, Simpson. Farley. Weasleys."
"Goodbye, Parkinson", Gemma replied.
"Yeah, see you Pansy", Bart replied unenthusiastically as the others muttered their goodbyes. The young hellion would normally have enjoyed Narcissa and Molly's showdown, but unfortunately it drew the crowd's attention away from him. After the Parkinsons apparated, he piped up.
"Uh, guys? I'm right here."
Ron sniggered, while Ginny and the twins turned between Bart and their parents expectantly.
"Mum? Dad? Can we please get an autograph from Barrrtttyyyyy ze Great?" Fred asked with mocking reverence, as the two Aurors returned to their positions.
"Yes, pretty please?" Ginny pleaded.
Arthur quickly nodded, while Molly's expression flickered briefly before she tightly smiled at Ginny. She didn't like Bart very much, but what kind of mother would deny their daughter a beloved celebrity's autograph?
"Yes, dear", she indulgently replied before sternly eyeing the twins. "Behave yourselves, you two."
"Sure thing, mother dearest", George teasingly replied before Percy emerged from the bookstore.
"Hey Perce. We're getting autographs from your favouritist wizard ever. You want one, too?"
Percy's eyes narrowed into a murderous scowl.
"Oooh, not in the mood ey? Well, how's about one from the queen of this mortal realm, Gemma Farley? Or from your darling brother, Won Won?" Fred irreverently asked, hardening Percy's scowl while Ginny and parts of the crowd chuckled.
Molly gritted her teeth.
"I mean it. Behave yourselves, or I'm grabbing you both and apparating."
"YES, MOTHER!" the two cried out to more chuckles before escorting Ginny to where Bart was. The spiky-haired scamp grinned in anticipation, while Gemma and Ron grimaced.
"Let 'em through, people!" Bart called out before the crowd dispersed.
There's nothing like working a crowd, Bart thought with a wry grin, one that Fred and George shared as they melodramatically shook Bart's hand.
"Bartholomew, Bartholomew, Bartholomew! How's your summer been?" Fred asked.
"Yeah, how does being the world's biggest legend feel?" George facetiously asked.
"Pretty damn good", Bart slickly replied before turning to Percy. "So how's summer been for ol' Percy? Revealing?"
The Weasley quartet snickered, as did Gemma.
"Well, we thought he'd be absolutely insufferable after getting twelve O.W.L.s", Fred explained, earning a scowl from Gemma, "but he hasn't really shown himself much this summer. He's been cooped up in his room."
"He's probably been busy polishing his prefect badge", George dryly surmised.
Bart's reply came a little too loudly.
"Yeah, more like polishing his di-"
"BART!" a voice bellowed, with Fred and George clutching their sides while the crowd alternately laughed and gasped.
Oh great, it's Gloria Steinem, out for revenge! Bart thought as a certain bushy-haired figure emerged.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Signing autographs?"
Hermione clutched her hair in annoyance.
"Augh! I meant using that sort of language in front of a crowd. You're setting a bad example for the children here!"
"They don't seem to think so."
"Well, I do!" Hermione exclaimed.
Do what, play naked basketball?
"Well anyway, my parents want your autograph", she admitted with a softer expression. "They read about how you stopped You-Know-Who."
Hermione's parents then came up. They clearly hadn't heard Bart's last sentence, for they were beaming. Hermione's brown-haired mother extended her hand.
"That's right, dear. I'm Jean, and this is Reginald", she noted, with her brown eyes sparkling with amusement.
Bart shook their hands.
"It's a pleasure to meet you both", he replied, pouring on the charm as both parents smiled.
"You seem like a very impressive young man", Reginald, a reasonably well-built man with piercing brown eyes and slicked back brown hair, observed.
"I try my best", Bart replied with feigned bashfulness before his quill signed their photos.
Jean then beamed.
"Well, thank you for signing our photos. We have to get Hermione's books now, otherwise she'll never let us hear the end of it", Jean noted as Hermione huffed.
Yeah, it's like she was born to be a buzzkill, Bart wryly thought.
"Yes Bart, I hope we meet again soon", Reginald stated.
"As do I", Bart airily replied before the Grangers left.
Bart's quill signed Fred and George's photos before a blushing Ginny came up.
"So, this is Ginevra, right?"
The twins nodded.
"Call me Ginny, Bart", squeaked the girl.
Bart grinned as he shook her hand. "No problem, Ginny. You looking forward to Hogwarts?"
Ginny nodded eagerly.
"Yeah, who doesn't Bart?" Fred asked rhetorically before turning to Gemma. "So, how's Queen Gemma been?"
Gemma forced a smile.
"Wonderful, Weasleys. And you?"
George answered.
"Awesome. Spending summer blowing stuff up never gets old. So how many O.W.L.s did our most regal prefect receive?"
"Eleven", Gemma replied, having told Bart that O.W.L.s stood for Ordinary Wizarding Levels when she received them. "I didn't bother with Muggle Studies because Bart likely knows more about Muggles than Burbage does."
"Tiiiisssss. Two signatures please", Fred requested before Gemma's quill did the needful.
Hissing like a snake now, are we? Talk about desperate. "Two signatures it is. Now you can harass your brother."
"Sure thing, Princess!" they both joked, before strutting over to an annoyed Ron.
You'll pay for this, Farley, the lanky redhead thought as he stared down his older brothers.
"If isn't our darling little Won Ton? How have you been?"
Better before you two showed up. "Great, Fred. George. I'm guessing you two want autographs?"
"That's right, Wronski", George replied. "We were saving the best for last!"
Yeah, right, Ron thought as his quill signed their photos. "There you go."
"See you on the other side, Ron!" Fred hollered as the Weasley trio shuffled out of Ron's sight.
"The youngest Weasley seems quite taken with you, Bart", Gemma wryly observed. Not that I'll ever let that little imp take you in.
"Who isn't, Gemma?" Bart smarmily replied as Ron sharply inhaled.
One more hour, one more hour, one more hour, Ron inwardly repeated. One more hour, and I can get rid of this prat and these bloody hecklers. I just hope Harry's OK…I haven't seen him since he went through the Floo Network this morning…
Unfortunately, Harry's first experience travelling via the Floo Network ended rather badly, for his face slammed into the wooden floor. He instinctively felt for his nose. Luckily that wasn't broken, but his glasses were.
What a wonderful trip, Harry sarcastically thought as gothic rock music echoed through the room. But at least my nose isn't broken. Now I'll just go outside and…
Harry's blood ran cold as he surveyed the dank, narrow street outside.
This isn't Diagon Alley. So where am I?
Before he could think any further, he heard some noise behind him. Instinctively, he draped his Invisibility Cloak over himself and took a couple of soft but deep breaths.
It's a good thing that Bart cloaked himself when we got past that giant. I would never have thought about bringing the Invisibility Cloak otherwise, Harry thought, shuffling into a corner behind a shelf and dusting some soot off before waving his hand in front of his nose.
Ugh, this place smells like rotten egg sandwiches! thought Harry as he saw bright powders, bundled feathers, dried roots, shimmering beetle eyes, silver unicorn horns, snarled claws, and strings of fangs scattered throughout the store, dimly lit though it was. He then saw barrels of slimy stuff on the floor.
Still, it's loads more interesting than the Dursleys, Harry thought, his feelings drifting between wonder and morbid fascination. Indeed, the store's grimy, gothic undertones were worlds away from the bourgeois conformity which Harry had so disliked about the Dursleys. Baudelaire himself would have been proud.
Before Harry could even move, a rippling contralto accentuated the room's dark majesty.
"Hey Ismelda, get me all our stewed mandrakes, will you? The Malfoys will be coming in soon."
Harry's eyes widened in shock.
My day just keeps getting better and better.
"Whatever, Merula", a more high-pitched, feminine voice dismissively sneered. Its owner, an eerily attractive pale-skinned brunette with greasy hair and a hooked nose, came into view, before roughly jabbed her hand downwards and picking up some slippery-looking plants.
"You're lucky that I put up with your crap, you know."
"And you're lucky that I put up with that Muggle crap you listen to."
"Says the person who took Muggle Studies with me."
"Hey, I only took that class so I could laugh at the Muggles!"
"Yeah, suuurrre you did. Besides, I really like this song. Because I'm always wanting – MORE!" Merula shouted as the song exploded into life. "More business! More glory! More money! More everything!" she continued with childlike delight as a bass-baritone voice made itself heard.
"Pfft, you're just in love with that voice", Ismelda snarked as she ventured back to the counter. "Like you were in love with –"
"Don't – mention – him", Merula tersely commanded as she packed the Stewed Mandrakes into a parcel. "Hey, Barnaby! Fetch me some Lethe River Water, will you?"
"I'm sorry Merula, did you say Lech River Water?"
"No, I said Lethe River Water. You know, in the little blue bottle where the shelf is?"
"Oh, of course Merula", Barnaby politely replied. "I'll get it right away."
"Thank you", Merula sighed. For someone with his talents, he can be such a dullard.
Harry remained still as Barnaby, a tall, muscular fellow with an Elvis-like bouffant and shimmering emerald eyes, grabbed the bottle before lumbering back to the counter. Harry then tentatively stuck his head forward, wondering what Merula looked like.
As it transpired, Merula looked quite unusual. Like Harry, she had messy hair, only hers was brown with an orange patch rather than straight black. She also had an elongated nose with an upturned tip, pearly white teeth, thick lips and piercing violet eyes.
She's oddly attractive, Harry thought, but he had no time to dwell on Merula's appearance, for just after she turned off her rune-powered vinyl player, his soi-disant rival entered. His mother, who shared nigh-on identical features bar her striking blue eyes, quickly followed.
I'd better see how this plays out. They're definitely doing something dodgy, Harry thought as Merula kissed Narcissa's extended hand.
"Merula, Merula, Merula. How have you been?"
"Very well, Narcissa", she replied before turning to Draco and smirking. "So how's it going, Draco?"
"Better now that you're not calling me 'spawn'", Draco cheerfully replied, as the trio laughed.
I don't think I've ever heard him sound like that before, Harry thought before Narcissa pressed on.
"I hope those people haven't been giving you trouble, Merula?"
Merula snorted. "Those sods wanted to buy this place out, and I wasn't happy with their initial offer, so they hired some goons to persuade us. They failed."
Ismelda smirked sadistically as she overheard the conversation from the back. Yeah, I mailed their index fingers back to those idiots.
Narcissa nodded before continuing. "Are you sure that it was them?"
Merula sighed. "No. Those goons obviously took Unbreakable Vows to not reveal their involvement, because as soon as I tried probing their minds, all four died."
Harry gasped as he realised that dire consequences might result if Merula spotted him there.
Unfortunately, the trio at the front counter overheard him.
"What was that?" Narcissa asked as she looked around.
"Probably the wind. Look, it happens. Don't worry about it", Merula replied in a reassuring tone.
Phew, Harry thought.
"So Draco, how was your first year at Hogwarts?"
Draco scowled. "It would have been better without Simpson, the filthy –"
"That will do, Draco. You've discussed the Simpson boy many times with us. There's no need to discuss him here", Narcissa admonished before turning to Merula. "You must forgive my son, Merula. That Simpson boy tormented him all the time last year."
What a load of bollocks, Harry thought contemptuously.
"Yeah, it's because of him that Potter doesn't want to be friends with me", Draco sulked.
No Malfoy, you showed me what a royal prat you were all by yourself.
"Draco…"
"Sorry, mother."
Narcissa indulgently nodded before Merula spoke.
"So what else are you two doing today?"
"Well, we were going to arrange for Borgin to pick up some very pretty valuables of ours. The Ministry are conducting more raids you see, and Lucius and I couldn't bear to part with them."
"Without receiving something for them", Merula knowingly finished.
Narcissa nodded and tapped her nose, after which all three laughed once more.
"Why are the Ministry conducting more raids? This doesn't involve the Weasleys, does it?" Merula asked. Unusually for a Slytherin, she was on friendly terms with both families because she had previously visited The Burrow, so she knew about their intense rivalry.
Narcissa sighed.
"They've always enjoyed making our lives more difficult. Arthur Weasley apparently came up with the bright idea of introducing a new Muggle Protection Act, or some other rubbish."
Merula made a face. The combative Slytherin might have grown to respect Muggleborns like Ben Copper for facing death with resolve, and she did appreciate a few Muggle inventions. However, in general she still believed that Muggles were primitive savages who would rather burn each other alive than embrace the wonders of witchcraft.
They're clearly too thick to recognise that magic could improve their lives tenfold. Then again, Muggles always did like doing things the hard way…
"You seem not to care for the idea either, Merula."
"No, I don't. If anything, we need more protection from their numbskullery."
"I quite agree. But anyway, after that I will purchase a new racing broom for Draco. He wants to be on Slytherin's Quidditch team, you see."
Draco nodded. "If Higgs and Potter can become Seeker, then I can. Potter's performance against Ravenclaw last year was just a fluke. I could beat him easily."
Oh, get your hand off it, Malfoy.
"No doubt, Draco", Narcissa smoothly replied. "After that, we're going to Flourish & Blotts to pick up Draco's schoolbooks."
That's where Bart said he'd be. I guess loads of people would want his autograph, so I'd better use the cloak, collect my books, and then meet the Weasleys somewhere else in Diagon Alley. I don't need that much attention today…or anytime, really, Harry thought with a wince.
"Fair enough. Here are your Stewed Mandrakes."
"And here are your Galleons", Narcissa replied, placing a reasonably large sack on the counter.
"Of course", Merula replied with a greedy grin. "Thank you for patronising our business, Narcissa."
"My pleasure, Merula. Have a good day. Come Draco. We must pay Borgin a visit."
Draco's expression became eager as he nodded and followed his mother out, but not before saying goodbye to Merula.
"See you, Draco. Don't let Simpson give you a hard time, OK?"
"Oh, he'll get his", Draco arrogantly replied.
Merula chuckled as the Malfoys left, while Harry just scowled. Bart was hardly a perfect friend or person, but he would back him over Draco any day.
Harry made to follow the Malfoys. However, the door clicked before he could open it. He tried pulling it, but it wouldn't budge! Something then swooped over his head.
What the - ?
"OK, stop right there!" Merula triumphantly crowed.
Harry's breath hitched in horror.
There must be another way out of here?! he frantically thought. He was about to throw himself at the nearest window.
Merula, however, caught on.
"Don't – even – think about it. The glass is unbreakable. You know, to stop shoplifters from nicking stuff when the shop's closed", she patronisingly explained.
Instinctively, Harry hit the deck and fired a Wingardium Leviosa at her, which she lazily deflected.
"Awww, how cute, he's trying to play 'Duel'. Little boy, don't try to play games with grownups. You will just – get – hurt", Merula replied before trying to knock Harry out with a Stupefy. Luckily for Harry, he was quick enough to take cover behind the barrel before the spell slammed into his chest.
Sharp reflexes. Maybe he plays Quidditch, Merula thought with a smirk as she slowly advanced on his position. Never mind. It's time to end this.
"Give it up, kid. I promise I won't hurt you."
Like hell I will. OK Harry, what would Bart do in this situation? Oh, I know!
"Fumos!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Just as scarlet light seared over his head, Harry launched himself into the air and thrust his right arm leftwards, hoping that he could give her a most unwelcome surprise from behind the smokescreen.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Harry, landing on his side, then skidded across the grimy ground until…
"Expelliarmus!"
Before Harry could even react, his wand flew into the hand of…
"Barnaby! Took you long enough, but thanks for the backup!"
"You're welcome, Merula", Barnaby replied, completely missing Merula's back-handed compliment.
Clued up as always, Merula sarcastically thought before stopping in front of Harry.
"Well, it seems that the Boy-Who-Lived has deigned to visit us", Merula mockingly observed, giving Harry a shark-like grin.
"Harry Potty's here?" Ismelda gleefully asked as she stood next to Merula. "You know, I've always fantasised about torturing you…" she noted menacingly, peering down with a ravenous grin.
Harry blanched as Merula shook her head.
"Of course; that's your solution for everything! Torture! Honestly Ismelda, get some bloody help!"
Ismelda pretended to look offended.
"Awww, he knows that I was only joking…I was fantasising about killing him instead!"
Merula groaned as Barnaby came up and offered his hand.
"Do you need a hand up, Harry?" he sincerely asked.
Really, Barnaby? Merula thought with a raised eyebrow, but Harry nonetheless accepted the gesture, albeit with some reluctance.
"Gee, thanks", Harry muttered.
"You're welcome", Barnaby cheerfully replied.
Harry then turned to Merula with a stupefied expression.
He's kidding, right?
Merula just shook her head.
"Don't mind him, Potter. He's just a very special guy."
"Thanks, Merula!"
Merula narrowed her eyes at him before turning to Harry.
"So what brings you here, Potter?"
Should I tell her?
"You know I can find out if you don't tell me, right?" Merula warned.
Harry groaned. "Floo Powder."
Merula laughed.
"You said the wrong thing, didn't you?"
"Looks like it", Harry dryly replied.
"You heard the entire conversation, didn't you?"
Harry nodded. Before he knew it, Merula's wand was pointed in-between his shimmering eyes of emerald.
"Obliviate!" she yelled, knocking Harry backwards with a green charm before quickly putting away her wand and extending her hand to Harry before he could recover.
That should've worked. I've only tried Memory Charms a few times, but if I can't pull one off then no-one can. After all, I wasn't the Most Delicious Witch at Hogwarts for nothing.
"W-what happened?"
"You fell and hit your head", Merula lied, her eyes shifting once before settling on him. Good thing I've gotten better at lying since Hogwarts. Otherwise he could've seen through me.
Harry hesitantly nodded before taking her hand and pulling himself up.
"Y-you're Merula, right?"
Merula grinned.
"Good memory, this one. Yes, I'm Snyde. Merula Snyde. I run this apothecary. These are my assistants, Ismelda Murk and Barnaby Lee", introducing them before they shook Harry's hand.
"OK, you two mind the store while I take Potter here to…"
"Flourish & Blotts."
"Ah, it's been a while since I've been there. You meeting up with anyone?"
"Yeah, the Weasleys."
Merula smiled. "Yeah, I know them. How are Molly and Arthur?"
Harry looked pleasantly surprised.
"Fine."
"That's good." Merula nodded at Barnaby and Ismelda. Both followed her direction, but not before Ismelda rolled her eyes.
She's crazier than a cut snake sometimes, Merula thought before escorting Harry out.
"So are you just starting Hogwarts, or are you in Draco's year?"
"I'm in Malfoy's year", Harry unenthusiastically replied as Merula's conversation with Draco and Narcissa replayed itself inside his head.
I can only remember a few words, though. But why? Harry angrily thought as Merula smirked.
"Not the best of friends, then?"
"Well, Gryffindors and Slytherins never are."
"True."
"So where are we?"
"Knockturn Alley. Diagon Alley's just up here. So, do you play Quidditch?"
"Yeah, I'm on Gryffindor's team."
"Looks like we have something in common, then", she replied with a broadening grin. "I've attended every single Qudditch World Cup since I was born."
"Really? What's it like?" Harry asked with genuine surprise.
"Great. There are loads of ways to get drunk."
Harry snorted as the pair walked into Diagon Alley before Harry suddenly stopped.
"Merula, do you mind leaving me here?" Harry requested after glimpsing a large crowd in the distance. "I don't want to attract the crowd's attention."
Just after he made that request, he saw a woman with dark, shoulder-length hair place her left hand over Ginny's cauldron and stretch it out, before pointing her wand inside and stepping back.
What the? Why did that woman do that?
Before Harry could figure out what happened, Merula piped up.
"Ah, travelling incognito, huh?"
Harry nodded.
"Suit yourself. I have to get back to my store. Nice chatting, Potter."
"Yeah, you too Merula", Harry replied before entering a darkened space, heaving his cloak over himself, and making his way to Flourish & Blotts.
Hopefully there won't be any more surprises today…
Unfortunately, Harry was wrong. For when Ron led Harry into his bedroom that night, there was a note on Ron's desk. Frowning, Ron picked it up.
"What does it say, Ron?"
Ron read it before turning and looking at Harry like he had just seen an unfamiliar ghoul.
"U MUS NOT GO BAK TOO HOGWARTS…"
Author's Notes for Chapter Three
I expected to cover Rita Skeeter's unequal treatment of Bart/Gemma and Ron here, but that's for later chapters.
I've avoided making Jake into a Gary Stu by having him 1) claim ignorance of the Muggle world and 2) wrongly speculate as to how Arthur Weasley managed to get his car to fly. Also, he didn't consider that having Sleazy send drivers to sleep might cause a massive pile-up.
Speaking of Sleazy, his abilities are never fully confirmed canonically. Dobby does send people to sleep in fanon, so I've had Sleazy do so here. Credit to zugrian's We're In This Together for this idea.
The chapter really just twists canon tropes to create a unique take on Chapter 4 of CoS: 1) having a character steal a car rather than already owning one, 2) having Bart/Gemma/Ron sign photos outside of Flourish & Blotts rather than using Lockhart, 3) having a confrontation between Molly/Narcissa rather than Arthur/Lucius, 4) having Narcissa supervise Draco, 5) having Harry land in an apothecary rather than Borgin & Burkes, 6) having Harry confront the store owners, and 7) using characters from Hogwarts: A Mystery.
Narcissa's portrayal is more like her unpleasant canonical self than the relatively sympathetic portrayals you see in fanon.
Percy is not at Flourish & Blotts in canon; I added him there for the LULZ.
The song Merula listens to is More by Sisters of Mercy. It's a quintessentially Slytherin song – dark, musically ambitious, and about always wanting more.
Merula has matured slightly since her canon days. She's no longer prejudiced against Muggleborns, but still doesn't really like Muggles. She's also more avuncular, but still retains her combative, competitive nature.
The car's identity will eventually be revealed.
I've added a bit about the quills Bart, Ron, and Gemma were using. These are fanon, but are based on Self-Inking Quills and Auto-Answer Quills. Presumably, their quills are colour-charmed in accordance with the quill's abilities. Here, I've assumed that Flourish & Blotts charmed the quills by themselves, since they only distributed three.
Apparently acromantula silk is fanon.
James Songbird/Monster King: No problem/thanks.
Stormzy: Thx for your comments. This book is not intended to bash Ron, but rather examines what could happen when a Slytherin and a staunch anti-Slytherin are forced to work together. Such a relationship will be fragile, at least initially. You'll find that Ron has moments where he does himself proud even relative to canon.