Chapter Eleven
But what would the audience do now that Professor Flitwick had won? That was the operative question, and one answered in milliseconds as the Gryffindors encouraged both the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws to bring out their inner hooligan. And who could blame the Ravenclaws for casting aside all rationality? It wasn't like they were accustomed to besting Slytherin.
Meanwhile, the Slytherins looked utterly downcast, and Professor Snape, who used a Protego Totalum to prevent Ravenclaws, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs from mobbing Professor Flitwick, looked like he wanted to kill himself as he proceeded to revive Jake.
Bart looked on with barely disguised envy.
Hey, no fair, why should Flit-wit get all the attention?
He kept glaring in Flitwick's direction, until an old memory flashed through his mind.
Bart and Lisa were sitting on a cliff, peering down at the town below. Lisa suddenly stood up, her stare penetrating through the sky.
Until she spoke.
"Bart, I have a riddle of you. What's the sound of one hand clapping?"
"Piece of cake."
It sure is, Bart thought, utterly missing Lisa's point as he surreptitiously cast a Sonorus onto one of his hands, stepped into a secluded corner, disillusioned himself, and then slammed it into the other uncharmed hand.
"CLAP!"
The students looked around in confusion.
"CLAP!"
Panic and muttering ensued; Professors Sinistra and Snape both fired a Homenum Revelio, but to no avail.
"CLAP!"
What in the devil is that noise? Professor Snape querulously thought, but before he could, the clapper revealed himself.
"Simpson." I should have known.
"Sure is. Pardon the interruption ladies, but I wanna praise Professor Farley's effort", Bart remarked as Gemma looked on approvingly. "When was the last time you had a real fight, Professor Flitwick?"
The usually excitable professor became uncharacteristically sheepish.
"A long time ago, Mr. Simpson. Professor Farley's technique and fitness have surpassed my own. He hurt me more than I hurt him, and he was quicker on the draw as well.
Had I not cast an extremely difficult spell, I would probably have lost this stoush.
That's what happens when you become soft and complacent, rather than training constantly like he does!
So Mr. Simpson is correct. Professor Farley deserves a massive round of applause for his efforts. He can hold his own against the best, of that I have no doubt!" the diminutive professor exulted. "Now Mr. Simpson, would you do the honours?"
Bart grinned.
"Sure can."
So, just like before, he started clapping.
Gemma immediately joined him, with the Weasley Twins following immediately after. The other Gryffindors looked at them like they were mad, but clapping has always been infectious. And it took a Gryffindor's daring and nerve to join Slytherins in doing anything.
It also took some Gryffindor courage to support your friends under such circumstances, and that's what Lee and Harry displayed when they started clapping.
But Gryffindors could also be determined, and Hermione demonstrated her determination to support her friend by nudging Ron into compliance as she clapped.
Remembering Bart's kindness in potions, Neville clapped alongside them. Although the lad would never realise it, this was when he proved that he was a Gryffindor. After all, wasn't applauding someone from a rival house brave, courageous and daring?
But things still weren't moving as quickly as Bart wanted, so with some Sonorus, he gave the crowd a push.
"C'MON PEOPLE! I'M NOT HEARING ANY CLAPPING!"
Emboldened by Bart's rabble-rousing, Terry took a shot of courage, and led Anthony, Sue, and Luna in some spirited clapping. Flitwick, meanwhile, raised his hands as if he was conducting an orchestra. On cue, the rest of the Ravenclaws started clapping and cheering – for a vanquished Slytherin, no less!
But the Hufflepuffs hated Bart, the Gryffindors were far from his biggest fans, and the Slytherins were generally reluctant to support him, even though Gemma had consigned Bart's worst enemies to the hospital wing before the duel even began. Even Professor Sprout and McGonagall couldn't fire up their charges.
The half-hearted applause continued until Flitwick came up with an idea.
If I can reward students in class, then why can't I reward them outside class? With that thought, he boldly presented his proposal, with Sonorus giving his words some extra heft.
"LET'S HAVE A COMPETITON, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! THE HOUSE THAT CHEERS THE LOUDEST WILL RECEIVE A BAR OF HONEYDUKES AT TONIGHT'S FEAST! WOULD MY RAVENCLAWS PLEASE TRY THEIR HAND FIRST?"
Professor Snape muttered under his breath. Noisy children were anathema to one of his great pleasures – peace and quiet. And peace and quiet was what he would not get, for the Ravenclaws made the biggest racket this side of Hullabalooza. Hell, even Bart was unnerved.
Oh man, I haven't heard anything this loud since that goddamn THX theme! Bart thought. He normally enjoyed loud noises, but feeling like your eyeballs would burst, your teeth shatter, and your eardrums explode was not a fun experience.
Ay carumba, they're gonna blow my head to kingdom come! Like that dude in Scanners!
Luckily for Bart, there were no scanners, only cheerers, so his head remained intact when the Ravenclaws stopped cheering. But there were three more torturous rounds to come.
Bart surreptitiously nudged Gemma before whispering into her ear.
"I can't take much more of this. Can't you do something?"
Gemma chuckled.
"You did start this, Bart…but since you gave my father his due…"
And with that, she fired a Verdimillious into the air.
BANG!
"Now that I have your attention", Gemma remarked as everyone turned towards her Sonorus-enhanced voice, "why don't we give every student and teacher a Honeydukes Bar at the feast?"
That proposal should make me more popular with the students...and the teachers! Gemma thought, having eyes only for the Head Girl position.
"But that's not fair on the Ravenclaws!" Flitwick exclaimed, with the Ravenclaws concurring.
"But it's fair on everybody else", the headmaster snarled, as pearls of laughter rang around the room. "Miss Farley, take 10 points for Slytherin for ending this ridiculous farce.
Pomona, Filius, Minerva, Horace, usher your students back to their common rooms. I need to go and do something more worthwhile – like stare at the back of my hands. After that, I will arrange for the school's house elves to acquire those chocolate bars. And do not cheer, otherwise I may change my mind."
Of course, the hook-nosed professor wouldn't have - he liked chocolate too much - but he would never admit that to the students. After all, he was Severus Snape.
Speaking of Severus Snape, he was on Bart's mind during the subsequent feast.
"Hey, I wonder why Snapey Wapey didn't give me a detention?"
"Probably because he doesn't want to deal with you now that he's headmaster", Gemma muttered as she bit into her Honeydukes Bar.
Checkmate, Captain Hook, Bart triumphantly thought before returning to their previous topic of discussion.
"So you're saying that Flitwick learnt that 'flipper' spell from some dead Australian cricketer? Huh, I thought he invented it after watching too many Paul Hogan movies."
"I don't know who that is. But yes, that's what he told me. His name was apparently Clarence Grimmett. He used to, um, 'bowl' it during matches. Apparently being magical helped him bowl it for much longer than his Muggle teammates could have."
Having played the game in Australia, Bart immediately realised what Gemma meant.
"So he started using a wand to 'bowl' it, instead of just his hand?"
Gemma nodded.
"Yes, he perfected it after he retired. He used it to make a living as a travelling magician, wowing crowds across several countries with it. Flitwick met him at one of his shows, and mentioned that Grimmett had some other tricks, but he didn't have time to elaborate."
"What, even about that spell that almost knocked your dad's block off?"
Gemma narrowed her eyes.
That's a no, then, Bart thought, having decided that antagonising Gemma further wasn't in his best interests. The witch then pressed on.
"Anyway, you're meant to fire the first Flipper by whirling your arm 180 degrees before pushing your wand back into your palm. Then for the second Flipper, you whirl your arm before squeezing your wand out of the front of your hand with the thumb and the index and middle fingers."
"Wouldn't your opponent see the difference after a while?"
Gemma's eyes drifted towards the ceiling before snapping back onto Bart.
"Theoretically yes, but it's very difficult to pick up the difference in real time. Plus, even if you did, you'd need to be very quick on your feet to adjust, because the first one lulls you into complacency with its slowness. The problem is that firing it properly is very tough."
Bart smirked cockily.
"Sounds simple."
Gemma smirked back, knowing full well how provocative her next words would be.
"So simple in fact, that it only took Flitwick two years to master it."
Bart's eyes gleamed dangerously as his smirk widened.
"Then I'll do it in one."
Bart would indeed do something that night, for just as he lay down to sleep, a certain house elf popped into view.
That something involved leaping upright, but before he could do anything, the elf clicked both of his fingers. Not only would Bart's roommates not wake up until he willed it, but he also sent Bart's wand flying out from underneath the boy's pillow before leaping up and catching it with his left hand.
But Bart wasn't that perturbed. Sure, he had been caught off guard, but he still had an ace up his sleeve…
"Dobby my man, how's it hanging?"
The house elf's eyes bugged out in surprise.
"The great Bart Simpson knows Dobby's name!" he wheezed.
Eh, Sleazy still sounds funnier. "That's right, the great Bart Simpson's a friend of all creatures, great and small."
Dobby's chest heaved, before he burst into tears.
"Hey, are you all right, man?" Bart asked, feeling concerned about the house elf's wellbeing. He wondered whether he should actually pull that ace from his sleeve, but…
What choice have I got?
"So noble, so honourable. Bart Simpson is truly as great as they say!"
"I sure am", Bart replied, reasoning that passing up praise was heresy.
Dobby nodded frantically as the tears stopped flowing.
"Too great to be here, sir! You should have not come when Dobby blocked you from the train! You should have left after the Bludger chased you! You should leave right now!"
Normally, Bart would angrily refuse, but frankly he just felt too sorry for Dobby. And telling people what they wanted to hear was his speciality, anyway.
So he sealed the barrier and rigged those bludgers, huh? That's a shock. "Sure dude, I'll pack my bags first thing tomorrow. And I won't be coming back." That should do it.
Dobby felt – and looked – happier than he had for a very long time.
"Oh, Bart Simpson is listening to Dobby! I am so humbled, sir, I am so – ".
Then he broke down again.
OK, he's really not all right. "Ummm…do you need any help, dude?"
"Oh, Bart Simpson is so kind! Asking about Dobby's welfare!" Dobby exclaimed before calming himself down. "But no sir, Dobby will deal with things himself. But if you would do one favour for Dobby…"
Bart cocked his head.
"Ask away."
"Can you tell Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Gemma Farley not to come back, also?"
Fat chance. "Sure, man."
Dobby sighed in relief.
OK, his guard's down, pull that ace Barty-boy!
But his eyes refused to focus. For the life of him, he just couldn't do that to Dobby. He looked so down – and out – and defeated.
So he simply asked for his wand back. Dobby duly obliged, before removing the spell upon Bart's roommates and vanishing.
Bart shook his head.
What's with him? Maybe I should ask Gemma.
But he didn't, mostly because he forgot, but also because he didn't care enough to ask. And that was because he endured something truly horrifying that morning: Headmaster Snape storming into the dormitory and leering down at him.
"Time to go, Simpson", he sneered.
Bart contemptuously glared upwards.
No way, Jose.
Yes way, Simpson.
No words were exchanged; the looks they exchanged told each other everything. Eventually, the headmaster spoke.
"Now, will you stop wasting my time, Simpson? Or have you arranged a flying limousine for your departure?"
Bart gave Snape a twisted grin before following the man out.
"Maybe next year."
"Maybe never. At this rate, Simpson, you'll be expelled by springtime."
Bart scoffed.
"Expel a celebrity. Yeah, that'll be good for your rep."
"I do not care about my rep, Simpson", Snape snarled. "I care about my school being a place of education, not a place of tomfoolery."
Tom-fool-er-ree, Bart inwardly mocked as they pressed on. Once again, he found himself walking through the snow-laden settlement of Hogsmeade with Balthazar's cage in hand. True to form, the headmaster tried tormenting Bart again.
"Yes, you will miss out on everything Hogsmeade has to offer. Its chocolates, its music shop, its sporting goods shop, its joke shops - ".
"Which I'm sure you totes loved back in the day."
Professor Snape spun around and bared his teeth.
"Don't push it, Simpson", he menacingly enunciated. "As it is, you're on thin ice."
Whoa, I'm real scared now, Bart sarcastically thought without looking at the professor.
"Now keep up, otherwise I'll leave you behind", the professor finished before turning tail and striding forward.
Wouldn't want that now, would we? Bart thought as he followed him.
Before long, Master Simpson and Mister Snape found themselves standing before La Casa de Los Simpsons. But the atmosphere, frigid though it was, was also rather noisy.
In fact, the noise was coming from inside the house. And it didn't take Scotland Yard's finest to determine who was responsible…
"FEEL LIKE MAAAKIIIN' LAAAHVE TO YOUUUUUUUUU!"
Professor Snape stared in utter disbelief as Bart burst out laughing. But unbeknownst to the pair, a certain someone was standing right behind them…
"Ah, Severus! Bart! How nice to see you two here!"
The pair spun around before finding themselves face-to-face with Albus Dumbledore, who looked every inch the sharp dressed man. If Bart didn't know better, he'd have thought that the wizened wizard was enjoying his life right now.
He's obviously full of Es. "Nice to see you, Mr. Dumbledore."
"And you, Bart. And somebody's obviously enjoying themselves in there."
"You could say that", Bart supplied as Snape ground his teeth. The former headmaster then gestured for the two to follow him, before knocking on the door.
Bart wasn't surprised that Homer opened it, nor was he even particularly surprised that Homer was shirtless.
However, he was slightly taken aback by how Homer had covered himself with…
Honey. He's covered himself with honey. What sort of ineffable halfwit does that? Even in these rancid surroundings? Snape thought before facepalming and inhaling sharply.
"Hey Homer, attracting the bees, huh?" Bart cheerfully asked, enjoying Snape's annoyance.
"We-heh-hell Bart, I just enjoy its slick feel."
You have enough lard inside you to 'slick' the entire neighbourhood, you dunderheaded goon, Snape irritably thought before the headmaster weighed in.
"Ah, Mr. Simpson. It's nice to see you again. We were just here to drop Bart off and set up some security measures around your house. May we come in?"
"Sure thing, Dumble-ass", Homer replied, nonchalantly leaving the door open before ambling inside. The wizarding trio followed him in – albeit very reluctantly in Snape's case – before Albus closed the door behind them.
"Hey Bart, 'When Buildings Collapse' is on. You wanna watch?"
"DO I?!" Bart exclaimed before quickly sitting on the couch.
"How about you, Dumble-ass? Peckerhead?"
"Peckerhead?" Snape whispered in outrage before Bart 'helpfully' explained the word.
"Yeah, it means di – ".
"Diligent", Albus interjected, not wanting Snape to blow a gasket. "Yes, Mr. Simpson, we'd be delighted to watch the program. Severus, please take a seat."
Severus looked like he'd rather take a long walk off a short pier, but nonetheless complied. Much to his regret, as he witnessed buildings collapsing while Bart and Homer whooped hysterically. Feeling his rising temper batter his Occlumency shields, the former potions master covered his face and shrunk into himself.
I'll need Hogsmeade's entire supply of Firewhisky after this, Snape ruefully noted as Bart piped up.
"WOO! TAKE THAT, ROYAL SOCIETY OF BRITISH ARCHITECTS!"
Finally, much to his relief, the program ended.
"HAH, YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT BUILDING ALBIE?"
"Yes, it went down with a mighty thump, didn't it, Mr. Simpson?"
Homer laughed and slapped the elderly man's back.
"IT SURE DID!"
Well, surely I can't endure anything worse during this trip, the new headmaster noted. But he was wrong.
"Coming up next, 'When Haircuts Go Wrong'!"
Oh, for crying out loud…
At long last, the two Hogwarts alumni left, albeit with a thousand-yard stare in the younger man's case.
Not that Bart cared, as he turned to face Homer.
"Hey, where are Mum and Lisa?"
"They're just getting some groceries."
"Fair enough. Anyway, you're back at the power plant, right?"
"Yeah, your mother thought she'd do a better job, so now she's the police chief."
"And Lisa argued with the Emperor of Japan about whaling?"
"Something like that."
Bart chuckled.
"Ahh, that Lisa. If she's not saving the whales, she's protecting the pandas."
"Heh heh heh, yeah."
24 hours later, Bart was inside Farley Manor. Gemma and Jake would normally have been bemused by Marge's beehive hairdo, but they were so relieved that Homer didn't answer the door that they didn't even notice.
Unfortunately for Bart, he wasn't sitting on Gemma's bed watching The Empire Strikes Back – not yet, anyway. First, he had to complete some homework at her desk. For you see, Gemma wanted to follow up her pledge to help Bart improve his grades, and reviewing his work was a good start.
"Bart, many of these answers to your History of Magic questionnaire are too short. For example, if you write that The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards 'makes magic laws in Europe' on the exam, Binns will just hand you a D."
"Eh, I got plenty of those back in the old place."
"D means Dreadful! And you can't pass to the next grade with dreadful marks."
Bart grumbled angrily. Realising that she wasn't steering him in the right direction, Gemma changed tack.
"Bart, you want to fulfill your potential, don't you?"
"Yes'm."
"You want to do better than Malfoy, don't you?"
"Hell yes."
"How does writing less than the bare minimum accomplish that?"
Bart sighed.
"It doesn't."
Feeling vindicated, Gemma smiled.
"Correct. Now, you are going to fill out most of these answers again."
Bart collected himself before replying.
"But where do I start?"
"Now with these types of questions, you specify everything you remember about the Assembly. For example, don't just outline its various functions, but also give an example of each function being performed in practice. For the examples, give the year. Binns is a stickler for detail, so he'll give bonus points if you give the day or the month."
Bart sighed – he saw Gemma's point about providing practical examples, since he hated theory that couldn't be applied, and he could remember dates if he tried – but trying would be absolute agony.
"How did you remember them?"
"I just kept writing them down over and over again."
Bart looked at her incredulously.
"Like writing lines?"
Gemma nodded.
"Exactly."
Bart shuddered in revulsion, but it wasn't like he lacked experience writing lines.
"Yeah, alright."
Thankfully for Bart, that torturous experience eventually ended. Soon enough, they were sitting on Gemma's bed and watching The Empire Strikes Back.
"No. I am your father."
As Luke helplessly denied Darth Vader's claim, Gemma turned to Bart.
"Speaking of fathers, what did yours do when Dumbledore visited?" Show off his underwear, I expect.
Bart told her, to which she burst out laughing.
"Sounds like Snape had the time of his life!"
"Yeah, he looked like he wanted to choke on a peanut when he left!"
Gemma's expression then turned serious.
"So, those wards protect your house from anyone allied with Voldemort and against Dumbledore?"
"Yeah."
Gemma thought for a moment, before suddenly understanding.
"I'm guessing that Dumbledore placed a Legilimency Charm over the wards. I didn't know you could do that, but then again, he is Dumbledore."
"Yeah."
"Anyway, when did Davis and Greengrass become friendly with you?"
"After they saw me in class."
Gemma slowly nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.
They obviously want Bart to help them further their interests. Well, that's not going to happen if they conflict with mine, girls.
"I see", she neutrally replied. And that's why you're not going alone, Bart.
"Yeah. Anyway, why did that Trevors – "
"Travers. Because Malfoy threatened to tell his father if he didn't."
"Lemme guess, his dad loves the V?"
"You could say that. He was also involved in a family's murder, and he is a rather…contentious individual, from what I've seen of him."
Before Bart caught himself, he let slip something embarrassing from his past.
"So he would've strangled his son if he didn't change the password?"
Gemma gave him a quizzical look.
D'oh! "Well, something like that, anyway."
"I wouldn't put it past him. He does have quite the temper. Anyway, Slughorn is hosting an event called the 'Slug Club' early next year. We will both be attending."
Bart snickered.
"It's been a while since he's seen his, huh?"
Gemma slapped him upside the head.
"OW!"
"Anyway, we're attending because Slughorn knows people in high places."
Bart realised where she was going.
"People who can help us make a name for ourselves?"
Gemma nodded.
"Sweeeeeeeet", Bart replied with a grin.
Gemma's lips curled upwards with a smirk.
Poor predictable Bart. Always wanting attention.
"So Theo didn't know what the plot involving Ron's dad was about?"
"He claimed not to. And to be honest, I believe him. His father was always a rather secretive man."
Bart nodded.
"Tomorrow's a done deal, right?"
Gemma nodded.
Sure enough, Bart, Gemma and Bella were at Greengrass Manor's doorstep the next day. Bart saw that the manor was quite different from Farley Manor.
For example, the Greengrasses had not one peacock, but two foxes. The Farley peacock symbolised how Gemma was an obvious 'jewel in the crown' for the Farleys, whereas the Greengrass foxes reflected their daughters' ability to fly under the radar while craftily achieving their objectives. Bart could also see a horse stable in the distance.
The Greengrass family's lower-key nature was additionally reflected in the slightly greyer, smaller mansion and the grey cobblestone road leading to the old mansion. But that the Greengrass family came from older money than the Farleys was reflected by the Romanesque clay tiles adorning their roof and the traditional square windows. Additionally, the garden was adorned by a solid gold statue of an ancestor, not just a water fountain.
Bart whistled as Bella knocked on the door.
The woman who answered resembled Daphne, but less than Bella did Gemma. For while Daphne had blue eyes and long blonde hair, this woman had green eyes and dirty blonde hair in a bob hairstyle. Her smile was radiant, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"Ah, hello Bella! How lovely to see you again!"
Bella beamed.
"And you, Roxanne. Too much time has elapsed since my last visit. I trust you've been well?"
"I've never been better."
Roxanne then turned to Gemma.
"Ah, and Gemma! I assume you're still racking up the accolades?"
Gemma supplied one of her megawatt smiles.
"I do my best, Roxanne."
Roxanne then peered down at Bart.
"And this must be Bartholomew!"
"Please call me Bart."
Roxanne nodded.
"And you may call me Roxanne. Daphne's told me so much about you!"
"She has, has she?" Bart suggestively asked as Gemma's eye twitched.
"Certainly. Please take my hand."
With that, Roxanne extended…
Another manicured hand. What, do rich pureblood chicks get arrested if they don't have 'em or something? Bart thought before brushing her knuckles with his lips.
Gotta look out for cooties. "It's my pleasure."
Roxanne beamed before stepping aside and ushering them in. As Bart walked on by, he saw that Roxanne's outfit veritably screamed old money, dressed as she was in a tailored yet timeless black cashmere robe that contrasted Bella's relatively gaudy green robes.
Instead of stepping into a hallway, Bart found himself in the manor's drawing room. While this room was less ostentatious than the Farley one, having a slightly smaller and whiter ceiling, it nonetheless exuded an understated class.
This class was reflected, both figuratively and literally, in the white marble floor, the elegant black handrail which spiralled up the similarly styled staircase, the crystal chandeliers, the walnut dining table, and a brass-coated mantlepiece and mirror. Situated by the wooden window was a Chesterfield sofa occupied by…
"Daphne?"
Daphne smirked, her blue eyes locking onto Bart.
"Nice to see you too, Bart", she smoothly replied before standing up and extending her hand, which Bart instinctively kissed. A pleasantly surprised Daphne blushed slightly before gesturing to a smaller figure, who extended her hand.
"Bart, meet Astoria. Tori, meet Bart."
Astoria? More like Ass-toria! "My pleasure."
With practiced grace, Bart brushed her hand before peering up, noting that while the two sisters shared long hair, lithe frames, and woollen robes, Astoria had brunette hair and hazel eyes. He had no time to dwell on her, however, before Daphne spoke.
"Would you like to play a game of chess, Bart?"
Why can't she just behave like a normal chick? "We certainly can", he replied, hiding his bemusement as Daphne rummaged through the nearby cupboard before pulling out a wizarding chess set.
"The loser pays the winner five Galleons."
Bart's eyes lit up like a bonfire.
Hey, I'm not paying a goddamn cent. "Sure."
And sure enough he wouldn't…for Bella graciously stumped up the money when he lost. But Bart's annoyance was quickly quelled, for Didley, the Greengrass house elf, served up a meal that truly epitomised old money. Before Bart lay some truly delicious Grilled Boneless Skinless Chicken Thighs. The meal was simple but very effective, maximising taste while minimising processed foods and ingredients.
At least, Bart's taste buds thought so, for he almost drooled after taking the first bite.
Now this is living.
Just as they started eating, the fireplace erupted. Striding into the drawing room was…
"Cyrus!" Roxanne exclaimed, gracefully standing up before rushing over and hugging him.
"Hello, Roxy. Daphne. Tori."
"Hello, father."
The man's brown eyes then turned to Bart and the Farleys.
"Hello, Bella, Gemma. It's nice to see you again. And this must be Bartholomew."
"Bart, please."
"Bart."
The man strode over, exuding authority as he gave Bart a firm handshake.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Bart."
"And mine."
Cyrus' brushed-back brown hair flapped slightly as he sat down.
"So Bella, I trust that business is going well?"
Bella smirked.
"Certainly, Cyrus. I hope that sitting on the Wizengamot hasn't been too taxing?"
Cyrus sighed as he adjusted his brown tweed robes.
"It's been most trying. It's taking forever to get the Muggle Protection Act through the second reading because certain members are frequently absent, so the Wizengamot can't decide whether to pass it to committee, especially since Fudge always votes against it!"
"These members don't happen to be friends with Lucius Malfoy, do they?"
"They are. The man's got half the Ministry in his pocket."
While Cyrus ranted about Ministry corruption, Bart relished every bite that he took out of the chicken thighs.
Man, I hope Tracey's place is as awesome as Daphne's…
However, a few days later Bart would find himself disappointed, for Tracey's residence was merely a two-bedroom apartment. Granted, it was in a nice area of London, but Bart was still underwhelmed by the drab beige and spartan furnishings that surrounded him.
"I'm sorry if this apartment wasn't what you were expecting, my friends, but I'm constantly away on business, so I haven't had time to redecorate."
"Think nothing of it, Julius", Bella airily replied. "After all, what's a life without work?"
Pretty awesome, Bart thought.
"Pretty dull."
"So, what curses have you dealt with lately?"
Tracey's father caressed his long, pushed back brunette hair before he began.
"Well, I had to deal with a microphone that would pass a fatal blood malediction to anybody who touched it. All the victims would die within a few months, but not before developing multiple types of cancer, which often left them dying in a pool of their…no, I won't mention any more", Julius finished, looking at Bart before blanching.
This sounds pretty cool. "Do go on", Bart requested before Gemma could shut him up.
Julius sighed.
"Their own blood and vomit."
Whoa baby!
"How did you break the curse?" Bella asked after blanching.
Julius leant back and sighed.
"Well, breaking a curse is much like curing a disease. It requires teamwork and analysis, namely regarding how the curse affects an individual. For example, it may affect their executive functioning, or it may impair their movements.
Once we've figured out exactly what the curse does, we then break the curse by applying counter-curses to the objects.
After we've applied each counter-curse, we cast a Specialis Revelio to determine whether the curse has been weakened by the counter-curse. Then, through trial and error, we gradually whittle the curse down to nothing.
To vanquish this spell, we applied counter-curses from Africa, America, the Caribbean, and of course, England."
While Bella and Gemma listened intently, Bart looked around and realised that somebody was missing.
"Um, Julius?"
"Yes?"
"Where's Mrs. Davis?"
Tracey looked upset, while Julius looked extremely uncomfortable.
"She's…happier where she is."
Having not detected the lie, Bart pressed on.
"I didn't know wizards got divorced."
Julius was briefly lost for words.
"It…does happen."
Bart nodded, not noticing how shattered Tracey looked.
But Bart would soon find out, for when he arose from his transfigured sleeping bag in the apartment's living room, he heard soft but distinct sobbing.
What the - ?
Like a cheetah on the prowl, Bart softly inched towards the noise before reaching a door.
Hmmm…should I go any further? Ahh, what the hell.
With trademark stealth, he wordlessly unlocked the door and, after slipping through, lit his wand up.
Tracey turned towards the light and yelped before gathering herself and casting a Muffliato around their conversational space.
"Bart!" she breathed. "What are you doing here?!"
Bart thought about replying with a smart rejoinder, but frankly he was too concerned for Tracey. Tracey might have been bubblier than Daphne was, but she was still a Slytherin, and thus wasn't usually given to dramatics.
"A-are you alright?"
Tracey sighed before beckoning Bart over by patting the bed.
After sitting down, Tracey turned to face him.
"No, I'm not", Tracey bluntly remarked, struggling to hold back tears.
"What happened?"
Tracey took a deep breath and deliberated, wondering whether she could trust Bart with what was obviously a sore topic, before continuing.
"I-it's my mother. I-I was thinking about her."
Bart didn't understand where she was going.
"Aaaaannndd?"
No longer able to keep her composure, Tracey's frustration finally burst forth.
"She passed away from cancer five years ago, you prat!"
Bart's jaw dropped as he went numb from shock. He was nothing if not observant, and the signs were pretty obvious – how could he have missed them?
He closed his eyes and calmed himself before continuing.
"Look, I understand."
Tracey appraised him with a severe expression.
"Do you?"
She pressed a button on the remote control beside her, bringing the room's television whirring to life.
Bart watched intently as Daphne's blue eyes suddenly pierced through the screen.
"Hey, Daph."
"Yes, Trace?"
"How's your mother doing?"
Daphne's expression vacillated between surprise and sorrow.
"She's fine, Trace."
"That's great!" Tracey gushed before her tone turned dour. "W-what's it like having her as a Mum?"
"It's not too bad. She taught me how to ride our horses and about pureblood society and etiquette, but she's always been a little cold. I love her, and I would miss her if something happened to her, but your mother's passing doesn't define you or your life."
Tracey sniffled; she was obviously seconds from crying.
"I wish I believed that, Daphne."
Daphne reached out to Tracey, her tone becoming uncharacteristically warm.
"You will one day, Tracey. You don't get sorted into Slytherin without being resilient, and I think you're too ambitious to let your mother's passing shape your life for the worse."
Just before the waterworks began, Tracey abruptly shut the television off, stormed over and ejected the videotape before shoving it into Bart's face.
Bart reflexively shoved the tape away before staring at the thin but bright, whiteish silver clouds swirling around it.
"Hey, what are those white things?"
Tracey sighed.
"Those are my memories. You know how normal videotapes hold tape, right?"
Well, duh. "Yeeeaaahh?"
"Well, these ones are modified to hold memories. You stick your wand to your temple, extract the memories and then place them into this hole in the videotape."
Bart was genuinely impressed.
"Cool."
Tracey closed her eyes.
"My father taught me that spell so I wouldn't dwell on the time when she passed away."
Bart shook his head, but before he could speak, Tracey shoved the videotape into the VCR.
Millicent Bulstrode's face suddenly appeared.
Bart was about to retch before having a flash of recognition.
Ugh, that's the chick who smiled at me during Binhead's class.
"Millie, your mum has always loved you, hasn't she?"
Millie smiled sympathetically.
"Yeah, she's a good mum, but she's a bit of a control freak. Always wanting the best from me. The best grades, the most strength, the most effort. It gets a bit much after a while."
"It would never get too much for me", Tracey whispered, before she shut the television off and sat next to Bart.
"I keep those memories because that's the only way I can feel like I still have a mother."
And with that, Tracey wept once again.
For once, Bart didn't know what to say, since his glib charm served him poorly in this situation. So he acted, reaching over and patting Tracey's back while she cried.
He would spend the rest of the night tossing and turning.
But he still wrote to Harry the next morning.
"Sup Harry."
"Hey Bart. How was your Christmas?"
"Eh, it was OK. I got to stay at Daphne's – she lives in an awesome manor!"
"Like Farley's?"
"Yeah, like Gemma's. What about you? You get any cool gifts?"
"Well, Mrs. Weasley gave me and Ron a pink jumper."
Bart tried not to laugh.
"Gonna take it for a night out on the town?"
"Probably not, Bart. So what did you get?"
"Well, Gemma gave me the latest Spinal Tap album, Bella gave me some Chameleon Skin Gloves, and Jake got me a gift card for Wand Tuning.
Oh, and you'll never guess what I got Drainy and Captain Hook!"
"You gave Snape and Malfoy presents?"
"Sure, dude."
"I'm guessing you gave them things they'd hate?"
"Yeah. Drainy got a bottle of Drano and Captain Hook got the finger! Like, a big cardboard finger!"
Bart could just picture Harry laughing his head off.
"I'm sure they'll love those!"
"Yeah. Anyway, has Georgina figured out who iced Filch?"
"Her name's Hermione, and no, she hasn't."
"Eh, OK. See you at school."
"You too."
But school could wait. For he had a Christmas break to enjoy, and who was he not to?
Author's Notes for Chapter Eleven
Sorry for the delay. I've been very busy with work.
The point of this chapter was to add a bit more characterisation to Daphne and Tracey. Tracey, in particular, had been marginalised in this story to date.
RE cricket: A deleted scene in 'Bart vs Australia' shows Bart playing cricket with Homer, so he knows what it is. The flipper is a real delivery, it does take 2-4 years to master, Clarence Grimmett was a real cricketer, and he did play for an unusually long time. Ask your friendly Indian HP fans.
RE Tracey: Fanon portrays her as being more effusive than Daphne, so I've run with that.
The title and Tracey's coping methods are both derived from Sex, Lies and Videotape (1989), which involves a guy named Graham taping women discussing their sexual encounters.
Chameleon Skin Gloves come from Harry Potter: Magic Awakened, and the Wand Tuner idea came from the HBP film.
Es is slang for ecstasy.
Simpsons episode references:
'Burns' Heir': The THX noise
'Homer Loves Flanders': "No way, Jose. Yes way."
'Skinner's Sense of Snow': Feel Like Makin' Love by Bad Company