Chapter Nine
Rooted to the spot by their realisation, the two were so transfixed by each other's eyes that the commotion around them faded into a very fuzzy background.
Now, Bart was normally not one to process or understand feelings, but the look in Harry's eyes was both unnerving and unmistakeable. Unnerving, because Bart had never seen such fury within them. Unmistakeable, because Bart felt equally furious, with only Occlumency's tempering influence preventing him from blasting Draco into oblivion on the spot.
However, Ron lacked such restraints, so when he saw Draco and most of his Slytherin teammates gawking in his direction, he flew into a blinding rage.
"YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT, MALFOY!" he roared, his face turning a truly ugly shade of crimson.
A sneer replaced the shock that had momentarily spread over Draco's face.
"For what, Weasley? Your shack?"
Ron gritted his teeth as the Slytherins in the crowd burst out laughing.
"FOR SICCING YOUR BLOODY HOUSE ELF ON US!" Ron barked before thrusting his wand in-between Draco's surprised eyes. "EAT SLU - ".
However, before Ron could curse the blonde, his arms and legs snapped together in perfect symphony, sending him toppling to the ground like a statue.
Silence then ensued, until…
"Stupid boy."
The Slytherins laughed as one, and some students from the other houses couldn't help but join in. Caustic though Professor Snape may have been, his comic timing was impeccable.
Having had his fear swept away by schadenfreude, Draco laughed as raucously as his teammates…until he saw Gemma standing there with her wand outstretched.
But it was not her figure that scared him, but rather her face, which conveyed an expression that, despite the mutual antipathy between their families, she had only directed towards him once before, after he had Bart brutally beaten. The aftermath left him burning inside.
Thus, like the coward he was, he couldn't stare her down without showing the signs of fear: slightly raised eyebrows, a taut brow, and a wide-open mouth which Gemma might well have shoved a fist inside had she not been a Prefect.
Instead, she simply stared at him, as lightning danced around the tornados swirling behind her blackened eyes.
As Draco uneasily stepped back, Oliver rounded on Marcus, who was angrily looking around for potential culprits as he stood beside Bart.
"FLINT! WHY THE HELL DID YOU SET THAT BLUDGER ON HARRY, EH?"
Marcus retaliated like an angry Doberman.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, WOOD? SIMPSON WAS ALSO ATTACKED!"
"YEAH, BECAUSE YOU WANTED SOME MUGGLEBORN BAIT SO THAT PEOPLE WOULDN'T FINGER YOU, YOU SNAKE!"
Marcus' face turned as red as Oliver's as they touched nose tips.
"SO WHAT IF HE'S A MUDBLOOD? HE'S ON MY TEAM, AND I'M NOT ATTACKING SOMEONE ON MY TEAM!"
"10 points from Gryffindor for falsely accusing Flint, Wood", Professor Snape snarled as he walked up to the pair. "Now go back to your Gryffindors."
Oliver threw them both a murderous scowl before storming away to check on Harry.
The surly potions master then eyeballed his Quidditch captain.
"Thank you for preserving house unity, Flint, but do not use such language in the future."
Marcus quickly nodded.
The cloaked professor turned to Bart, but rather than enquiring about his welfare like a reasonable person, instead just gave him a momentary once-over before turning his back and sweeping away.
Love you too, sweety, Bart sarcastically thought as he watched the hook-nosed man stomp over to Ron and release him from his petrification.
"Let's see, Weasleyyy", he hissed after Ron stood up, "that will be 10 points from Gryffindor for attempting to curse a fellow student, another 10 points for gross stupidity, and a detention for good measure. Now get out of my sight."
"Now Severus, go easy on the young man. He's just been attacked, so obviously he won't be in the best state of mind", Professor Dumbledore smoothly observed as he strode over to Ron before carefully checking him for any lingering injuries.
"Do you feel fine, Mr. Weasley?"
"Yes, Professor", Ron breathlessly gasped.
"And you, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Yes, Professor", Draco replied, his tone barely hiding his disdain for the headmaster.
"Excellent. Mr. Weasley, due to these extraordinary circumstances, I will rescind your detention, but if I see you attempt anything like that again, I will give you a week's detention. Do you understand?"
Ron looked both chastened and relieved. Chastened, because he hated how someone he admired could sound so disappointed in him. Relieved, because at least he didn't have to serve a detention from Professor Bloody Snape, of all people.
"Of course, Professor Dumbledore."
"Very good. Madam Hooch, were the Quidditch balls secured prior to the game?"
"Of course, Headmaster. They were locked in my office."
The headmaster nodded.
"Now, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, Mr. Simpson, Miss Farley, can you five please follow me into my office? I wish to ask some more questions. Minerva, Severus, Filius, Pomona, Rolanda, please escort the students back into the school."
His Slytherin subordinate, still smarting from being put in his place earlier, scowled momentarily but nonetheless complied, ushering the snakes off the Quidditch pitch.
Before Bart knew it, he was in the headmaster's office, but before the headmaster could even talk...
WHOOMP!
Fawkes burst into flames with a truly cacophonic shriek, culminating in a fireball that slowly died down and left naught but ash on the floor.
"I didn't do it", Bart quipped.
Professor Dumbledore chuckled.
"Of course you didn't, young Bart. For the rest of you, that was a phoenix named Fawkes. Phoenixes periodically burst into flames when their time comes to die, before being reborn from the ashes. Observe."
The five turned to witness an ugly, wrinkled hatchling emerge from the ashes.
Whoa! That's so cool! But also so disturbing, Bart thought, not caring for Fawkes' new look. But maybe I could make Captain Hook spontaneously combust some time. Now that would be cool.
"Now that Fawkes' performance has ended, I must ask you, Mr. Malfoy. Do you know why Mr. Weasley accused you of ordering those attacks?"
"No, I don't", Draco admitted, trying to sound tough but failing miserably.
Professor Dumbledore scrutinised him before nodding, satisfied that the Malfoy scion wasn't lying.
"Mr. Weasley, why did you accuse him?"
"Because his house elf's been hassling us all summer! He's been visiting our houses and leaving messages and stuff!" Ron exclaimed, barely holding in his inner heat.
The headmaster hid his surprise before continuing.
"Did you see him yourself?"
"No, but Harry - "
"Malfoy's house elf visited me at the Dursleys. He said that his name was Dobby and that I'd be in mortal danger if I came back here", Harry interjected, stopping Ron before he could inadvertently disclose his relationship with Bart.
Truth be told, he wouldn't normally have been so open with the headmaster, but Harry saw how Bart's teammates reacted when he uttered Bart's name on the Quidditch pitch, and so strongly suspected that said disclosure would get Bart into trouble with them.
But…how would Dobby have located Harry's address? a shocked Dumbledore thought. With a growing sense of dread, he realised that Harry's safehouse might not be so safe after all. In yet another oversight, when he set up the protective enchantments around 4 Privet Drive, he hadn't considered that a house elf might penetrate them.
How could I have not considered that? That's the kind of mistake that Lord Voldemort would have made. I've always prided myself on not committing to his dark path, but maybe I went further along than I thought, the headmaster thought as shame and stress filled his insides. To conceal said stress, he composed himself using Occlumency before continuing.
I'll check the files when these five depart. "Mr. Simpson, Miss Farley. Did you two have any direct contact with Dobby?"
They both shook their heads, having long ago resolved to not reveal too much to the intrusive headmaster.
Hmmm…neither are being terribly cooperative. And Bart gave me that unusually hostile look during the Great Feast…I should ask him if anything is wrong.
"And you didn't send Dobby to them, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Of course not!" Draco indignantly replied. "I don't even know where they live!"
Sureeeeee, Drainy, Bart mockingly thought, but unlike the spiky-haired mage, the headmaster realised that Draco was indeed telling the truth.
"Very well", Professor Dumbledore replied, surprised that the Malfoy house elf would act on its own initiative. "Everybody can leave, except Mr. Simpson. Oh, and Miss Farley? You protected a fellow student from harm, so Slytherin can have 10 points."
"Thank you, headmaster", Gemma tersely replied, sounding anything but grateful. It was obvious to everyone in the room, including Ron, that she only petrified the Gryffindor to protect her position, not because she liked Draco.
Eh, she might not be Malfoy, but she's still a snake, Ron dismissively thought as they left, with Gemma giving Bart a meaningful glance as she forced Draco to lead her out.
The headmaster gave Bart a sympathetic but searching look.
"Is everything alright, Bart? I noticed that you were not happy with me during the Great Feast, and you were there when Mr. Filch's remains were found.
I should have offered you a Calming Draught and a Forgetfulness Potion like I did Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, but I did not, and I sincerely apologise for that mistake. Would you like to consume some here?"
Nice try, but I'm not buying what you're selling, dude. And if I can survive seeing Sideshow Bob slash at me with a machete, I can survive seeing a dead body. "No, I'll be fine, thanks."
The headmaster wasn't surprised to hear that response, though it clearly wasn't the one he was looking for, as he subtly deflated. He debated whether he should conduct wandless Legilimency like he did last year – but Bart was clearly even more alert and suspicious than he was back then, and if the headmaster didn't promptly release him, he'd likely distrust the headmaster more.
Severus and I will have to review his relationship with Miss Farley. "Very well, Bart. Thank you for your time."
Bart nodded before quickly scarpering out.
Meanwhile, a disarmed Draco was leading Gemma back to the dungeons.
"Did you have to disarm me, Farley?" Draco moaned.
"Yes, Draco. After all, we can't have you do anything rash now, can we? At any rate, you're lucky that you met with the headmaster before we had this little discussion, otherwise I may have dispensed a more…intimate punishment."
Draco involuntarily shuddered, realising exactly what Gemma meant, when the pair heard footsteps behind them, belonging to none other than…
"Bart", Gemma acknowledged. "Took you long enough."
"Yeah, well. It could've been worse", Bart flippantly replied before eyeing the two Slytherins before him and realising that Draco was unarmed. An epiphany then flashed through his mind. He didn't know why that epiphany was important; only that it was.
We can't let Drain-o tip his dad off about this!
Before Gemma could react, he drew his wand and stunned Draco.
"What are you doing?" Gemma hissed.
"Stopping him from blabbing to his dad", Bart snarled.
Gemma stepped back, understanding Bart's reasoning before even Bart did.
Bart's right…if Malfoy told his father that Dobby visited Bart and Potter's houses, he could summon Dobby, force the addresses out of him, and then use Dobby to ambush them both during the summer holidays.
While she despised the Dursleys and generally disliked the Simpsons, she wouldn't let either boy die. Bart for obvious reasons, and Harry because he was close to Bart; there was also Bart's sister to consider…but Gemma would cross that bridge in due course.
"You're right, Bart. The consequences would be unpleasant if Malfoy let his father know what was going on. But I don't want to risk damaging Malfoy's memory completely…" Gemma noted. Realising that she was doubting herself, Bart quickly intervened.
"So let's bind him, hide him and take him to Jake's office."
Gemma scratched her face thoughtfully.
"We'd then need to levitate him, which would look a tad suspicious. Bart…can you turn him into a bone?"
Bart smirked.
"I can try."
Gemma looked peeved.
"What do you mean, you can try – oh…you haven't transfigured humans before, have you?"
"Nope, just animals."
Gemma took a deep breath and sighed.
Luckily I've been practicing with Father…"Then allow me."
She then closed her eyes and concentrated her thoughts before performing some impressively complex wand movements. She twirled her wand this way and that, left to right, up and down…before finally, she thrust her arm forward.
In a trice, the blonde turned into a bone.
Bart sniggered.
Man, talk about having a boner! "Nice work, Gemma. Do you think he's boned enough?"
Gemma smirked in triumph.
"For now."
Bart cackled before Gemma placed the bone in her robe pocket and led Bart to Jake's office.
Before too long, Gemma told Jake what had happened once they left the Quidditch pitch.
"Yes, that seems like a real trifle. There are certainly things that Lucius shouldn't know, and that would include where his son's adversaries live. So…where is Draco now?"
Gemma unceremoniously threw the bone onto the floor.
Jake shook his head and smirked.
"A bone. Just like I taught you. Like father, like daughter, I see."
Gemma smirked before Jake provided some instructions.
"Gemma, when I untransfigure Draco, you bind him. After you two conceal yourselves, I will modify his memories. That way, he won't know that we arranged this, he won't tell his father about Dobby, and he will assume that we were refining his duelling technique."
"Because he wants to beat me", Bart supplied.
Jake tapped his nose.
"Precisely."
And with that, Bart and Gemma followed Jake's instructions to the letter. Before long, Jake unbound the Obliviated Draco, causing him to leap up and frantically look around the room – only to find nothing.
"Relax, Mr. Malfoy. We were just refining your duelling technique."
Draco looked dazed and confused.
"W-we were? T-then why can't I remember anything?"
"Because you won't remember everything that you first learn."
Draco wasn't sure about that, given Jake's bad blood with his father, but he was in no position to question the professor. He needed time, time to think, time to reorient himself.
"I-I should go."
"Please do."
Draco quickly ran out, after which Bart and Gemma revealed themselves, both struggling to not laugh at the blonde's plight.
"I suppose we should go too", Bart noted.
"Indeed."
A short time later, Bart was putting his feet up on a common room table and savouring a job well done. Indeed, all he needed was one of Homer's finest cigars. But then, that parchment started burning.
Ay carumba, not again! Bart thought as he almost jumped out of his seat.
"You alright there, Simpson?" Pansy sneered while her study buddy Rachel ignored them.
"Fine. Hey Pant-sy, can I borrow your brain? I'm building an idiot."
Pansy scowled as half the room stifled their snickers, but before she could respond, Bart cast a Protego Totalum and a Muffliato before whipping out the parchment.
"Bart, Ron thinks that Malfoy will force Dobby to tell him where we live!"
"I didn't think he was that worried about me."
"Well, he doesn't want you dead."
"He's after my heart."
"But you're still not his friend."
"Ah well, can't have everything."
"So, what do we do about Malfoy?"
"Nothing."
"…what?"
"Jake's already wiped that loser's memory. Frankly, I'm more worried about Pants Down, I mean, Pansy, becoming my girlfriend."
"Ugh, now there's someone who fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch."
"I know. It's like God was huffing angel dust when he made her or something."
"Yeah. So, are you staying here over Christmas?"
"I doubt it. I'll have to visit the old folks, and Gemma will probably want me to stay with her at Farley Manor. I'd ask if you wanted to stay, but…"
"The other Slytherins would hex you and Farley to bits if they found out, and the other Gryffindors would treat me like a Death Eater."
"That, and Ron would have a heart attack."
"True. But I don't know who I'm staying with yet."
"OK, so do you wanna talk about anything else, man?"
"No, I'm OK. See you around, Bart."
"Later, dude."
But more was in store for Harry, who after emerging from an empty classroom, had expected to enter Gryffindor Tower and prepare for a Sunday more relaxing.
However, when he saw The Fat Lady –
CRASH!
A small figure slammed into Harry's side, sending him flying to the floor. His Quidditch training then kicked in, as he instinctively landed on his hands and kept his knees just above the ground before collapsing, preventing any serious injury.
However, his manoeuvring did not prevent his anger from rising when he saw a grinning, mousy-haired Colin Creevey crouching down and taking photos with that infernal camera.
"All right, Harry?"
Something inside Harry snapped. The botched Quidditch game, the claim that he was Slytherin's heir, Colin's incessant chirping…it was all too much.
"DO I LOOK ALL RIGHT, COLIN?" he roared, though not without instant remorse, for his anger had clearly ripped Colin's heart in half. Tears streamed out of the firstie's eyes as he took off down the hall.
"COL – " he began, reaching out to the fleeing boy, only for that voice, the voice that he had heard before Filch's untimely end, crow in a sing-song tone which radiated cruelty.
"Youngbloods in the night. Taking all their lives. They'll die for me."
Realising what was at stake, Harry pulled himself up and sprinted after Colin with unbridled desperation before he was stopped in his tracks.
There lay Colin, his arms extending his trusty camera while his body lay rigid.
Harry could only stare in shock as a group of Hufflepuffs rounded the corner. Leading them was a brown-eyed, long-nosed boy with dark, curly hair who had previously introduced himself to Harry as Justin Finch-Fletchley, a blonde-haired, pink-faced girl with pigtails, and a stout, blonde-haired young man whose name was at the margins of Harry's memory.
Edward…Ernest…Ernie McGregor? Macmillan? Harry thought as the Hufflepuffs saw him and stopped. The solemn expression on Justin's face turned to terror before he took tail and ran, the girl's face turned ever more pink as her anxiety skyrocketed, while Ernie's face went white as he accusingly pointed his finger at Harry.
"I knew it, Potter!" Ernie dramatically intoned. "I knew that you were the Heir of Slytherin!
Yes, Justin told me about your encounter with Filch! And guess what? I also saw Simpson argue with Filch! So…" Ernie concluded as he leant forward and adopted a more sinister tone. "I think you two murdered Filch."
"What's going on here?" Percy's pompous voice piped up as he strode into the fray.
"Oh, I'm sure Potter will tell you once he stops lording over his Gryffindor comrade, Weasley", Harry's least favourite professor replied as he appeared. His lips were curled upwards as he surveyed the scene with savage amusement.
"My, my, Potter", Professor Snape sneered. "Two bodies in two weeks…that must be a record. You clearly have an unhealthy obsession with bodies. Maybe I should help you overcome that obsession by giving you a week's detention?"
"Do you think that's wise, Severus?" the headmaster asked, his smooth tone containing just a hint of warning as he shadowed Snape.
"No", the potions master petulantly snarled as the headmaster knelt over Colin before wandlessly opening the back of the camera, causing acrid smoke to steam out.
"Petrified", the headmaster whispered.
Professor Snape looked utterly flummoxed, as did Professors McGonagall and Sprout, who had just joined them.
"But why would Filch be devoured and Creevey not?" the hook-nosed man whispered.
The headmaster forlornly shook his head.
"Your guess is as good as mine, Severus."
Sometime later, Harry exchanged words with Bart while sitting in his common room.
"So this dude thinks that because we argued with Filch, we must have killed him afterwards? And that you 'petrified' this other dude? Pfft, what a dumbass. No wonder he's in Huffle-poof", Bart sneered.
"Yes, but half the school will believe him!"
"Eh, who cares? Just laugh 'em off, man. Anyway, you said that Dumbledore drugged you?"
"He had Snape give me potions in his office afterwards, yes."
"Look…I'd be careful of that dude."
Harry's eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"Me and Gemma think that he put you with the Duhhh-sleys."
Harry stared at the parchment, not knowing what to write.
"Are you sure?"
"You're Harry Goddamn Potter! A million wizarding families would've taken you! So how else could you have wound up with a bunch of child-abusing Muggles?"
Harry honestly had no idea, but he still had faith in the venerable old wizard.
"I don't know. But Dumbledore's a great man, Bart. He wouldn't do that on purpose."
Feeling uncomfortable with this discussion, Harry then changed tack before Bart responded.
"Bart…you know those crazy spells you used last year?"
"Yeeeaaaahhh?"
"Where did you learn them?"
"Gemma taught me some; some I learnt in a room on the seventh floor."
"A room on the seventh floor?"
"Yeah. What you gotta do is walk by the hidden door three times while thinking 'I need a place to learn new spells and practice existing ones', then the door pops up. Simples."
"Show me this place", Harry desperately wrote. "I need to know those spells. I need to defend myself."
"Whoa, easy there Harry. You won't learn those spells as fast as I did."
Seeing that remark as a challenge, Harry's nostrils quivered in annoyance.
"Is that right?"
"Yeah. But that's OK, because Gemma couldn't either and she's real good", Bart placated. "So let's start with the basics. You already know Petrificus Totalus and Tarantallegra, so I'll teach you the Expelliarmus, Protego, Stupefy and Impedimenta."
"Fine. So when can we start?"
"I'll pick you up at 8pm tomorrow."
"Deal."
Sure enough, Harry was learning the Expelliarmus with Bart in that duelling arena, but he had trouble landing it, such that his first five tries went woefully wide.
Bart groaned in frustration.
"Harry, what's with you? You can do better than this!"
Harry closed his eyes and sighed.
"It's just those Hufflepuffs…and all those people…I can't believe that they think we killed Filch, and that I'm Slytherin's Heir!"
Bart threw his arms up.
"Harry, what did I tell you? Just forget about them! They're a bunch of pervs and sickos! I mean, they think that Filch is hot, so who cares what they think?!"
Harry shook his head. He should have known that Bart just couldn't feel like he did.
But Bart could still step in when he saw Harry struggle with himself.
"Look, dude", Bart continued as he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, "I've had trouble landing spells, too. You know what helps?"
"What?"
"Meditation. It calms you down and sharpens your focus – look."
Before too long, they had both crossed their legs while placing arms on their thighs.
"Now take some deep breaths and go to your happy place."
"Happy place?"
"Yeah, like your perfect world. Mine involves being the world's most famous, richest person, sitting on my porch in the world's biggest mansion with a big green field, which my dad and sis are sulking on, plus an electric fence which the Voldulator and Captain Hook keep zapping themselves on.
I also see a midget Drain-o falling over while trying to ride a unicycle outside, my old principal scratching his skin rash, my dad's boss drowning in some toxic waste, and Sidesh-I mean, someone from my past – being hauled away by the cops." Plus Gemma, Harry and Mum laughing beside me.
Harry nodded in understanding while stifling his laughter.
"Now close your eyes and picture your happy place for 30 secs while breathing in and out."
Harry did just that.
In his vision, he saw perfection itself. Under a blood red sky, a crowd had gathered on a beach, with arms entwined. Within this crowd were his parents, Ron, Hermione, Bart and even himself. There was no Draco to torment him, much less Voldemort or any Dursleys. No, there was only bliss.
He then opened his eyes, feeling considerably more relaxed and focused.
"You ready, dude?"
Harry smirked.
"You bet."
He then stood up and narrowed his eyes at the dummy facing him before drawing his wand and firing an Expelliarmus straight into its chest.
Bart whooped.
"WOOHOOOOOO! That's the stuff, Harry! You'll run through those other spells in no time – hey, where are you going?"
Ignoring Bart's calls, Harry pulled a book from the shelf.
"Hmmm, this book looks interesting: Elemental Magic. Let's see, there's Earth, Fire, Wind, Water and Heart."
Bart burst out laughing.
"Who the hell wrote that book? Captain Planet?"
"Well, this person has the same initials."
"Captain Planet in disguise, then. C'mon Harry, put that thing away. You can read it once you've nailed these other spells."
Harry reluctantly complied, slotting the book in the shelf before joining Bart.
Meanwhile, Professors Dumbledore and Snape were talking things over.
"Severus, Harry needs to be relocated."
Professor Snape scoffed.
What, is a mansion not good enough for him? "To the Château de Versailles?"
"I'm being serious, Severus."
"As am I."
"Anyway, the Malfoy house elf was apparently able to penetrate the protective enchantments around his current residence."
The hook-nosed professor's eyes widened. He may have resented the Potter boy, but he still wanted him safe for his mother's sake.
"That's not good."
"No, it's not. Clearly, Lucius will soon pay Harry a most unwelcome visit."
"Could Potter reside elsewhere?"
Professor Dumbledore's eyes drifted off into space.
"I will reinforce the protective enhancements around my residence via a complex ritual."
The hook-nosed professor would have enquired further, but he knew from experience how futile that was. If his superior wanted to keep something a secret, he would.
"Fair enough. Anything else?"
The headmaster looked at him thoughtfully.
"I will do the same to the Simpson residence."
Professor Snape almost groaned.
I not only have to see Simpson, I have to hear about him too? My eternal damnation truly knows no bounds. "What, did he publish his address in the Daily Prophet?"
Headmaster Dumbledore gave him an ice-cold stare.
"The elf also procured his address, along with The Burrow's."
The potion master's eyes widened. While he had never cared for Muggles or for any Weasleys, he didn't wish death on them. It didn't matter if those Muggles were related to his least favourite Slytherin, or if the Weasleys included those wretched twins.
"I don't like that at all."
"Nor do I."
"So why are they not being relocated?"
The headmaster leant back and placed his hands together.
"Firstly, because I believe that Lord Voldemort is most interested in Harry. Secondly, because that would destroy young Bart's trust in me permanently. Thirdly, The Burrow may already have its own protections, and they would know their home better than any intruders, so it is better to help them protect their residence, rather than expend unnecessary effort relocating them. Besides, for the Weasleys, home is where the heart is."
"Your relationship with Simpson is a concern, why?"
The headmaster leant forward.
"Because I believe that Miss Farley has poisoned his opinion of me."
Professor Snape leant back into his seat and rubbed his chin.
"Figures. And Lucius will no doubt poison the board's opinion of you, as well."
"I agree", the headmaster sighed. "Before I meet with Horace, I will meet with the board and reach an understanding regarding my position."
However, such an understanding would soon be undermined by the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, which involved Hogwarts' new caretaker discovering something most unpleasant later that evening.
Not that Willy anticipated any trouble, as he cleaned grime and dissolved dirt with gay abandon as he strutted along the corridor and whistled a cheery tune – before hearing an ominous-sounding thump in the distance.
His instincts honed by years of hard living, Willy quickly drew his wand and crouched down, ready to roll and retaliate should a spell come his way. But the darkness yielded nothing.
Most people would have been utterly unnerved by such a situation, but Willy had seen his fair share of dark passages.
Heh, it's like street life, Willy thought, the familiarity emboldening him as he called out.
"Anyone there?"
"Yeah. You mind helping me up?"
It's just a young lad! But I'd better keep me wits about me.
With that, he stealthily cast a Homenum Revelio. Satisfied that he wasn't being ambushed, he cast a Lumos before striding forward and looking down.
He couldn't believe his eyes. In front of him lay not only a dazed Bart Simpson, but also…
A dead body? And a frozen ghost? Willy thought. Luckily for him, he had seen quite a few dead bodies already, so he wasn't scared into inaction like most would be. Instead, he instinctively knelt and checked for a pulse before drawing his wand and training his sights on any potential malcontents. Not that he found any.
"He's petrified, I think", Bart drawled.
Petrified? Willy thought as he suffered a shock to the system. He had heard of such a phenomenon, but he had never expected to actually see it. In Willy's World, death was cheap, but people were still either alive or dead. There was no in-between. Apparently, that wasn't true anymore.
However, Willy wasn't particularly contemplative, so this revelation didn't give him much pause. Not that it could, for Peeves made his presence known with a resounding BANG!
"Welly welly welly, look what we have here! It's wee Willy Widdershins, back from his walk – and Bart the Tart!"
Willy grinned up.
"Peevesy, mate! Been a long time, 'ey? How's the pranking business?"
"Business is gooooood, Wilson", Peeves crooned before he saw the petrified duo. "Is something amissssss here, Wilton of Shilton?"
"Nah, it's just business as usual, Peevesy."
Peeves slyly grinned.
"Business as usual, is it? Well then, we'd better not PANIIIIIICCC!"
With that, Peeves opened door after door and screamed, "DON'T PANIIIIIICCC! DON'T PANIIIIIICCC!"
Oh man, this is gonna suck more than Homer's music, Bart thought, turning to face the students and teachers streaming into the corridor. Leading the charge was Ernie MacMillan, who duly accused Bart.
"I knew it, Simpson! I knew you were up to your old tricks!"
Bart smirked as he sat on his derriere.
"Like sending Howlers to you guys?"
Ernie's face went from white to red as the crowd chuckled and Peeves returned.
"Oh William, William, you said that it was really nothing. How could you have lied, William? How could you have lied?"
Professor McGonagall shooed Peeves away as Professor Snape advanced.
"Because Widdershins is an adept liar. In fact, it's the only thing he's good at besides swindling and stealing."
The ageing witch gasped while many students gaped, not expecting a professor, even Snape, to so fragrantly disrespect a fellow staff member.
"Severus!"
"Ah, it's OK miss, it's just a joke between old friends, right Snapey?"
"You have an interesting definition of the word 'friend', Widdershins", Professor Snape sneered before surveying Justin's petrified form.
Another one petrified but not devoured? Hmmm… "Bodies, bodies everywhere."
"Yeah, I reckon the Sex Pistols song will start playing any second now", Willy quipped as mild laughter spread through the crowd.
"Yes, of course you would like the Sex Pistols", the potions master hissed as he leant forward. "They were just like you. Chaotic, undisciplined hooligans who disappeared at the first opportunity."
Willy laughed.
"Ah, c'mon Snapey, I might have skipped a few classes here and there, but I passed with flying colours in the end, didn't I?"
Professor Snape's onyx orbs flashed dangerously.
"If those colours included vomit, then yes. And do not call me that! And get up, Simpson!"
"That's enough, Severus!" Professor McGonagall called as Bart unenthusiastically stood up. The woman had largely overlooked her younger colleague's mistreatment of so many Gryffindors, but seeing him mistreat a fellow staff member like this crossed the line.
The surly professor angrily appraised his colleague before eyeing Willy with pure loathing.
"You'd best watch yourself, Widdershins", the greasy-haired man warned. "I will not tolerate your buffoonery if I ever become Headmaster."
"Wouldn't expect anything less, Sevvy!" Willy merrily called out as his former head of house stormed away.
Seconds later, Prefects Craggy and Farley came into view. Gemma immediately checked on Bart while Craggy faced the deputy headmistress.
"Craggy, Farley, escort the Slytherins back to their common room. Truman, Clearwater, Weasley, you three do likewise for the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. Aurora, Filius, please take Finch-Fletchley to the hospital wing."
She then conjured a fan out of thin air and gestured to Willy.
"Willy, use this fan to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs."
"Yes, miss", Willy replied with unusual solemness as he got to work.
The professor then faced Bart.
"Mr. Simpson, we're seeing the Headmaster."
Bart raised his arms defensively.
"Whoa! I'm not taking anything he's giving." The drug-dealing old bastard.
Professor McGonagall smiled.
"You don't have any choice in the matter."
The Transfiguration professor was wrong, however, for when Bart declined the Calming Draught and Forgetfulness Potion, the headmaster did not compel him to consume them, but rather let him go. Bart was surprised by how readily the headmaster yielded, in fact.
Huh, that wasn't as hard as I thought it'd be.
However, the headmaster would find it hard to accept his impending departure over the next six weeks or so. He played out a losing hand with maximal effectiveness, using his silver tongue to buy time with the board and his silver pen to placate those who had sent him anti-Snape hate mail. He also finalised a contract with Horace Slughorn while discussing his role's intricacies with Professor Snape.
But he couldn't prevent the inevitable, with Lucius Malfoy sporting a triumphant smirk as he strode into the headmaster's office on a crisp mid-December evening.
"I do hope you've packed your bags, Dumbledore. Because I'm afraid that I have here an Order of Suspension, with signatures from all twelve board members. Ahh, signatures. They can do so much, can't they Dumbledore?"
"Indeed, Lucius", the headmaster serenely replied, hiding his inner pain with a typically serene façade. "If that's what the board wants, then I will respect their decision."
"Magnanimous to the last, Dumbledore. Such a shame that magnanimity couldn't stop that poor Squib and those darling Muggleborns from being attacked.
Speaking of attacks, my son has discussed a most concerning matter with me. He claims that Farley – I mean, Professor Farley, helped him hone his duelling technique, and yet he remembers none of what he was supposedly taught."
The headmaster looked utterly perplexed.
"Nobody can remember everything, Lucius."
"True, but given my…history with Farley, I have not ruled out any machinations on his part – or yours, for that matter."
"If you discover any wrongdoing, then you may pursue the matter further, Lucius."
Lucius nodded.
"That I shall. Anyway, the board sincerely thanks you for your leadership, even though it was found wanting here."
"That's unfortunate. However, I can suggest a replacement."
"Who?"
"Severus."
Author's Notes for Chapter Nine
So sorry for the delay. I had to deal with various things, including becoming an uncle!
RE Ron: He shows character development by acknowledging that not all Slytherins are the same, unlike his first-year self, although because he's more paranoid than Harry, he still doesn't like or trust them. He has the decency to not want them dead, though.
RE Gemma: I tried to avoid having her become a Mary Sue by 1) showing her self-doubt and 2) having Bart do something before she thought of it.
RE Harry: He heard Voldemort call his followers 'Death Eaters'.
RE the Hufflepuffs: Chapter Seven mentions that they watched Harry/Bart argue with Filch.
RE Dumbledore/Snape: The repeated conversations between them are repetitive, but Snape's dry wit makes those conversations work. Also, Dumbledore/Snape are unusually close due to Snape's status as a double agent + more personal investment in protecting Harry.
I played around with canon to add more drama to the chapter (showing Colin/Justin petrified in quick succession).
I've no idea why a child would be made to handle Nearly Headless Nick in canon - it's really not their responsibility.
The reason why Colin/Justin were spared and Filch not will be explained later.
Simpsons episode references:
'Fraudcast News': Principal Skinner scratching his rash
bauers374: 1) Yes, the 'greater good' thing is dumb, which is why he hasn't used that phrase directly, 2) Yeah, thanks for that idea.
James Songbird/Monster King: Thanks.