Book Three: Bart Simpson: The Black Book

Chapter One

Harry Potter was having a sorry summer.

He had thought that his headmaster would save him from that fate. But no, he dropped him into yet another hellhole.

And this hellhole was arguably worse, since the Dursleys didn't care whether he did his homework, but his latest caretaker certainly did. For said caretaker was Severus Snape, who – very grudgingly – agreed to take Harry into Spinner's End while the headmaster attended an emergency debate at the Wizengamot. And worse still, Snape was not pleased with Harry's essay on Shrinking Potions.

"Tsk tsk, Potter. Why, pray tell, would the Shrinking Potion include shredded boomslang skin, rather than Shrivelfigs? Were you just taking a little stab in the dark, perchance?"

Harry sighed.

Trust Snape to live in a tomb, the boy angrily thought as he observed the dreary surroundings. The table before him was replete with scratches, and the chair's cushioning had clearly worn out long ago. Moreover, the walls were covered with grit and grime.

But that mattered little. What mattered was correcting his mistake, as Snape crowed.

"Ahh…it's good that I reviewed your essay before you submitted it, Potter. Otherwise it would only be good for kindling."

Harry all but shoved the corrected essay into the potion master's face.

"Well, how's this?" he asked, barely bothering to hide his ire.

The man scanned it.

"Barely passable…but it will suffice. Heaven knows that you can't do any better."

Before Harry could reply, the sitting room was enveloped in an orange glow, after which Professor Dumbledore swept into the room with an unusual urgency.

"Thank you for taking care of Harry, Severus. I trust that he was no trouble?"

"He was as incorrigible as ever, Albus. Quite frankly, I'm not sure why you are housing him."

"I have my reasons, Severus", the headmaster insouciantly replied. "But I must reveal something."

Snape's eyebrow cocked up.

"Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban."

The potion master's face contorted into a truly ugly scowl.

"What?"

The headmaster nodded grimly, before quickly walking towards Harry.

The boy's stomach immediately plummeted into the abyss.

Oh great, this involves me, doesn't it?

He wasn't disappointed.

"Harry, there's something I must tell you."

"That he's after me?" Harry bluntly asked. Just like Voldemort.

The headmaster slowly nodded.

"…why?"

The two professors exchanged grim looks.

"We…believe that he wants to avenge Lord Voldemort's defeat."

Harry groaned.

Of course…it's always about Voldemort. Even when it's about someone else, it's about Voldemort. "So…what do we do?"

"Firstly, we must leave this place. Are you ready?"

I was ready before I came in. "Yes, sir."

And after Albus and Severus exchanged goodbyes, Harry found himself…not there.

Instead, Harry found himself back at the village where the headmaster grew up.

Suddenly, he felt a piece of paper in his hand.

"Harry, please read this for me."

"The headmaster's residence can be found at Number 69, Fossil Way."

And with that, an old pink brick house, replete with a brown tiled roof and a weathered chimney, suddenly appeared before the pair, with the accompanying houses being shoved aside in the process.

Before long, the two were sitting on a maroon Victorian sofa in the house's drawing room, exchanging information most shocking. Well, shocking to Harry, anyway.

"You're saying that he was my godfather?!" Harry gasped. "Why would my parents make one of Voldemort's men my godfather?"

The headmaster sighed as the Axminster carpet rolled underneath his feet. Disclosing such sensitive information was something that he wouldn't ordinarily do – but he knew that if he didn't now, then he would have to later, under less felicitous circumstances.

And that was assuming that Harry didn't find out some other way. If he did, that would undermine his trust in the headmaster.

That, the headmaster didn't want. So, he bit the bullet.

"Because they trusted him with their lives."

Harry knew that the headmaster was dancing around the truth, no doubt to spare his feelings, but he nonetheless read between the lines.

"So…Black betrayed them?"

After a long moment, the headmaster nodded.

Harry angrily jumped up.

"That BASTARD!" he roared. "I'll KILL HIM!"

The headmaster rose up.

"Please, Harry. Sirius will face justice in due course, but we cannot behave like vigilantes."

"WHY NOT?"

The headmaster stared through a sash window as he contemplated his words, knowing full well that the wrong ones would send Harry on a rampage.

"Because I care about you Harry. I have already failed you before, and I do not wish to do so again. Letting you confront a highly dangerous wizard would be highly negligent. Can…can you trust me to act in your best interests, Harry?"

Harry stared at the floor, before taking a deep breath and nodding.

"So do you believe me when I say that you should not pursue him?"

Harry's head swayed in frustration, but he was moved by the tear trickling out of the headmaster's eye.

"Yes, sir."

The professor gave him a watery smile.

"That's my boy."

Meanwhile, in Farley Manor, another boy was reluctantly completing his History of Magic homework at Gemma's desk.

"Ugh, this chick enjoyed being burned? What, did she set herself on fire in her spare time?"

"It is quite possible", Gemma admitted. "We wizards do have our eccentrics."

"Yeah, you gotta be a bit kooky to have someone like Snape teaching. I mean, he looks like one of those dudes who wears a raincoat around schoolkids."

Gemma burst out laughing.

"I'm not even going to ask you what that means. But speaking of ask, how did you persuade your father to sign that Hogsmeade permission form?"

Bart grinned.

"I forged his signature."

Gemma sighed.

"Of course."

And of course the headmaster and his ward would discuss said form.

"Can I go to Hogsmeade, Professor?"

The headmaster sighed.

"I'm afraid not, Harry. That would be almost as irresponsible as letting you confront Sirius."

Harry looked crestfallen.

"Why?"

The wizened wizard looked uncharacteristically serious.

"Harry, I have known Sirius since he was a child. He was very talented then, and his prowess only increased after he reached adulthood. He is entirely capable of entering Hogsmeade, kidnapping you, and doing as he pleases."

"But I'll be with my friends!"

"Harry…he murdered twelve Muggles. Your friends cannot stop him."

Harry angrily kicked the carpet. He knew that the headmaster was right, but that realisation was killing him inside.

It hurt Dumbledore, as well. He wanted Harry to enjoy his youth while he still could, for he knew that nothing lasted forever. And he had caused him more pain, instead. But maybe he could make up for it…

"Harry…maybe we could review your spellcasting while your friends are at Hogsmeade?"

Harry grinned.

"I would like that very much, professor."

"I'm glad to hear it, Harry. Now, why don't you show me your homework?"

Some time later, while the duo ate dinner on an oak dining table, the headmaster struck up a conversation.

"Harry, there's something that might interest you."

"Which is?"

"Crowds have decreased over recent years, since games were either finishing too early or taking too long, so the International Confederation of Wizards Quidditch Committee is introducing a new variant of Quidditch, called Total Quidditch."

"Will we be playing it this year?"

"Yes. Its consistent 90-minute length makes it ideal for Hogwarts' purposes, and I'll have Quidditch training start earlier this year so players can acclimatise."

Harry suppressed a shudder. Oliver Wood was a seriously hard trainer, and he doubted that the new format would curb his enthusiasm. But he had more questions on his mind.

"Is the length the only change?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Heavens, no. There are many more changes, which you'll soon discover."

"Well, what happens to the original Quidditch?"

"It will get played less often. But it will soldier on while purists exist."

Harry nodded, but before he could continue, he heard a thump.

"Hedwig must be back!"

The zauberer was spot on, for Hedwig, Hera and a handsome tawny owl soared inside as soon as Harry opened his bedroom window. All three owls dropped their gifts on Harry's lap. Hera and her unknown associate then flew back whence they came, while Hedwig affectionately nipped him and trudged back into her cage, no doubt tired after her trek.

Harry stared at Hera's parcel for a moment.

My birthday's tomorrow, but never mind that. I want to see what's inside.

As the headmaster looked on from the bedroom entrance, Harry opened the parcel before a cheesy grin spread across his face.

Before him lay a letter and a Sneakoscope, which alerted its owner to untrustworthy activities happening nearby. Accompanying these items was a clipping which revealed…that the Weasleys were in Egypt after winning the Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw.

If anyone deserves it, it's them, Harry thought, remembering how the Weasleys helped him recover after last year's ordeal with the Dursleys, and how their daughter almost fell victim to Lucius Malfoy's shenanigans. That would have put them through the wringer, so maybe seeing their son, Bill, in Egypt would be therapeutic.

I hope that Ginny's doing alright, though, Harry thought. Sure, she seemed happy enough in the attached family photo, but a smile could hide a million woes.

Maybe I should keep an eye on her, he thought. Sure, Lucius Malfoy had been arrested, but Violet Parkinson hadn't been. She could still use Pansy to get at Ginny.

Harry shook his head in vexation. He should be happy for the Weasleys, not worrying about some hypothetical future.

He thus distracted himself by surveying the scrawl on the roughly-wrapped package.

This is obviously Hagrid's. Hopefully he's given me something that won't send me to the dentist, Harry thought, repressing a shudder after remembering Hagrid's rock cakes.

Luckily, his fears were unfounded, for Hagrid sent him a surprisingly non-descript book called The Book of Monsters.

This looks interesting, Harry thought as he perused the pages. But then he realised something…

Wait a minute…Hagrid can barely read…why would he send me a book? Unless…

Something then clicked in Harry's mind, as he instinctively spun around.

"Professor!"

The headmaster smiled.

"Are you enjoying your gifts, Harry?"

"Yes, sir. But…is Hagrid teaching us this year?"

"Yes, Harry. He was the best man for the job", the headmaster replied with a twinkle in his eye, neglecting to mention that he couldn't find a more suitable candidate. "He wanted an animated book, but I told him that wouldn't be wise."

Oh, thank God, the boy thought, imagining an animated book ripping his hands off.

On a broader level, he was rapt for Hagrid…but Draco and Pansy wouldn't be, and Hagrid courted danger with disturbing nonchalance. They could easily entrap him.

Oh wow, I'm getting paranoid, he thought as an ominous feeling overtook him. Maybe being stalked by Voldemort wasn't so good for his mental health.

But that wasn't worth thinking about, so he opened Hedwig's parcel and found...

A letter and a card from Hermione. It's just like her to obsess about homework, Harry thought with a wan smile. Honestly, she should just enjoy life for a change. I mean, she's in France, for Pete's sake!

And she'd better believe that I'll be in London to see her. Her and Ron both. Now to unwrap her gift…

Much to his relief, it wasn't a book full of useless trivia, but rather a Broomstick Servicing Kit.

Harry gasped before opening the case, marvelling at the broomcare handbook, the Tail-Wing clippers, the handle polish, and the tiny brass compass which helped navigate long journeys. All in all, the set was very comprehensive, with only one problem.

These accessories won't help me beat Bart or Malfoy, a forlorn Harry thought. But I'll worry about that later.

Speaking of Bart, he and Gemma were holding some gifts and standing before 67 Fossil Way a day later.

"You sure this is right? Harry told me it was 69 Fossil Way", Bart remarked. Heh heh, 69.

Gemma nodded.

"Yes. I believe that our esteemed headmaster has hidden the house behind a Fidelius Charm. Only people he's told the address can actually see the house. He's probably made it Unplottable as well, so his enemies can't find it."

Bart nodded.

"I'll message Harry, then."

Moments later, Harry and the headmaster opened the door.

"Happy birthday, Harry!"

"Best wishes, Potter."

"Thanks, Bart. Farley."

The headmaster handed the Slytherins a piece of paper.

"Bart, Miss Farley, would you please read from this?"

And so they did, and so the house appeared before them.

"Cooooooool", Bart remarked, while Gemma refrained from reacting until the headmaster invited them inside.

Once inside, Harry noticed Gemma's Head Girl badge, which was pinned to a fetching green vest.

"Congratulations on becoming Head Girl, Farley."

Gemma smiled.

"Thank you, Potter. You don't happen to know whom the Head Boy is, do you?"

Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable. He knew all right; Ron's photo made sure of that.

"Ummm…"

Gemma raised her brow, before being consumed by dread.

"Oh, no…don't tell me it's…"

Bart came to the same realisation.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, IT'S WEASLEY! HEY, YOU TWO HAD BETTER NOT PLAY ANY HEAD GAMES – YOWWWW!"

Gemma magically slammed Bart's head into the foyer wall, knocking him flat.

The professor then intervened.

"Would you two like a tour of the house? After Bart gets up, of course."

After Bart helped himself up, he rubbed his head and groaned.

"Are you alright, Bart?" the headmaster asked.

"Sure am", Bart snarled. "Let's go."

A short time later, the quartet were in the drawing room.

"Ah, this is the life", Bart remarked, before handing Harry his present. "Here you go, dude."

"Thanks, Bart", Harry replied before unwrapping the gift, only to discover…

"A wand holster!"

"That's right, Harry. When you're in a jam, this baby might be the difference between life and death."

Harry nodded appreciatively before unwrapping Gemma's present.

"A Guide to Snake-Casting?" Harry asked with genuine intrigue.

Gemma nodded.

"Potter, you're a Parselmouth, so learning to cast a snake should help you, since you can direct it to attack, distract or scare your enemies, leaving them open to your attacks. You can also learn how to vanish the snake should they banish it back towards you."

Harry nodded.

"This…looks good, Farley. Thank you."

Gemma beamed.

"You're welcome."

"Would you like to see my gift, Harry?" the headmaster enquired.

"Of course, Professor."

The headmaster strode towards the suspiciously empty space in front of the couches, with a conveniently placed table to the side.

With a simple spell, he revealed…

"A TV?" Harry gasped.

"A ghetto blaster?!" Bart effused.

The headmaster smiled.

"Correct on both counts. The television is my way of compensating for the Dursleys' deprivations, seeing as their son had a television and you did not.

The 'ghetto blaster', as Bart called it, was actually his idea."

Bart cocked his head.

"Huh?"

"Yes. Do you remember when I asked you what music you were playing when you drove that car into the Great Hall?"

"Yeeaaaaaaaahhhhh?"

"Well, that inspired me to buy this for Harry, alongside some Van Halen music", the headmaster explained as he pointed to some Van Halen CDs placed next to the ghetto blaster. "I figured that if you liked it, then Harry might, as well.

Both devices are rune-powered, of course."

"Does the TV have cable?" Bart asked.

"Cable?" the headmaster quizzically replied.

"That's a no, then. No problemo; there's still gotta be something on."

And with that, Bart rushed over and grabbed the remote before sitting down.

"Now – let us begin."

And so Bart switched on the set – only to watch a BBC1 News report depicting a gaunt-faced man with wild elbow-length hair.

"Police are asking for assistance locating this man – "

"Boooorrrrriiiiiiiinnngg", Bart drawled before changing to ITV.

" – who is considered armed and extremely dangerous - "

"Hey, what the hell?" Bart querulously remarked before trying his luck with Channel 4.

" – Sirius Orion Black."

Heh heh heh, he seems like a real S.O.B. Bart thought, but Harry and Gemma were altogether more outraged.

"WHAT?" they both cried.

"That's who killed my parents?!" Harry exclaimed.

The headmaster nodded grimly.

"Yes. But I believe that Cornelius should not have alerted the Muggles."

"But won't they help catch him faster?" Bart asked.

"Maybe, Bart. But this may violate the International Statute of Secrecy, because there's a decent chance that Sirius will perform magic in front of many police officers. Moreover, the Muggle police do not understand how to combat wizards."

"What, you put a bullet in 'em and they die, right?"

"Yes, assuming Sirius doesn't deflect those bullets with a Shield Charm. And he's apparently capable of murdering many Muggles very quickly. I fear that this will become a debacle."

Harry paled at this.

Although Gemma wasn't the most empathetic person, she saw how stricken Harry was, and felt moved to comfort him, if only for Bart's sake.

"Don't worry, Potter. If the Muggles don't catch him, the wizards will."

"Yeah, I wish", Harry unenthusiastically replied.

Oh wow, this is about as fun as a funeral, Bart thought. Better change the subject…

"Hey, you know what'd be funny? If the Dull-slaves were dealing with him right now…"

Which they were.

Although they didn't know it, as they drove to the station to receive Aunt Marge.

A pair of canine eyes watched them with distaste.

Those were the people Dumbledore left Harry with? Bloody hell! Petunia's aged like milk, Vernon looks like Moby Dick, and the son looks like a temporary British citizen! I've gotta see if Harry's alright!

And with that, the black dog, using the impending darkness as cover, sprinted across the street before darting into the back garden of 4 Privet Drive.

The black dog looked around. Although the grass could have used a trim, the back garden was still quite neat, as a large tree grew near the tidily-trimmed hedge. The roses and pot plants lining either side of the back entrance added to the yard's appeal…as a portrait of bland suburbia. So much so that he wanted to leave something in the bird bath…but he didn't. Instead, he examined the back door.

Hmmm…how do I get through without a wand?

He then eyed a pot plant hanging by the door.

That's it!

With his front to the door, he transformed into his human form and unlatched the hook holding the pot plant up. With gusto, he threw the plant through the back door's window.

CRASH!

Hope no-one heard that!

With lightning speed, Sirius Black reached around and unlocked the door from the inside before pulling the handle open, transforming, and running inside. He dashed through the kitchen before bounding up the stairs.

After transforming back, he furtively searched the upper floor.

OK, this bedroom's obviously Vernon and Petunia's, this bedroom must be the son's, which means…oh no.

With a thrill of horror, he saw that the last door was not only outfitted with several locks, but also…a cat flap.

"DUMBLEDOOOOOOORRREE!" he roared, before dashing towards the door. Much to his surprise, it was unlocked, so he barged into the decrepit living space.

"HARRY?!"

But no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find him.

Shit! He's not here! Dumbledore must have moved him!

But he didn't have time to think things through, for he heard a car pull up.

Drat! They're back! I'd better bolt!

He then dashed out the back door and faded into the night.

While Sirius raided 4 Privet Drive, Harry and company enjoyed some soup for dinner.

"EVERYBODY WANTS SOMMMMEEE! I WANT SOME TOO!"

"Bart, what is this 'some' that the singer keeps referring to?" the headmaster asked as the ghetto blaster pounded away in the background.

Bart suppressed a laugh.

"He's talking about wanting some new, um, socks."

The headmaster smiled while the other two tried not to laugh.

"Ahh, I'm glad that somebody else recognises the importance of owning new socks. Frankly, I can never get enough pairs."

Good god, is he for real? "Y-yeah."

Later that night, Bart sulked on the drawing room sofa.

Man, the stuff on TV blows! But I guess that's what happens when you're out in the sticks…

Unfortunately, his mood wouldn't improve when the headmaster sat beside him.

"Bart, may I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"…did you visit the Dursleys last year?"

Bart did a double take.

"Excuse me?"

"Did you…persuade the Dursleys to release Harry last year?"

Bart smirked.

"I didn't persuade anyone to do anything."

The headmaster smiled indulgently.

"You might not have Bart, but maybe your associates did?"

D'oh! "Why would you suggest such a thing?"

"Well…"

Some months ago, the headmaster found himself on the Dursleys' doorstep, dressed as incongruously as possible.

Hopefully Petunia will understand why Harry must be relocated, the old man thought as he politely knocked on the door.

The woman who opened said door eyed him distastefully.

"What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Petunia", the professor airily replied.

"Don't give me that! Not after you set those goons on us!"

The headmaster was utterly befuddled.

"Goons?"

"Yes, goons! The Springfield Mafia, they called themselves."

The professor almost spluttered.

"Did you say 'Springfield'?"

"Yes!"

"…did they have American accents?"

"Of course they did! And why are you asking me things you already know? Just tell me what you want and then leave!"

Bart was obviously involved. "Very well. I was going to relocate Harry for his own safety."

Much to Dumbledore's surprise, Petunia brightened up.

"Well, why didn't you say so? Where are the forms?"

The sorcerer's Spidey Senses were tingling.

Petunia should be unhappy that her nephew is leaving. Clearly, something is amiss, and I should see what it is. "They are here. But I will need a table to sign them on. May I come in?"

"Of course", Petunia replied, relieved that nobody would now see Dumbledore on the street. "May I get you a glass of water?"

Initially she was hostile; now she is obsequious. Could Arabella's concerns be legitimate? I certainly hope not, the headmaster thought as his body tensed up. He had to steel himself; he couldn't have a panic attack now, of all times.

"Yes, please."

And he thus walked to the kitchen table as Petunia brought two glasses of water over. While he did, he realised that Harry was missing from the family photos.

Yes, something is very wrong here, the headmaster observed as his heartbeat increased. He then placed the forms on the table, away from Petunia's glass of water.

"Please sign where indicated, Petunia."

While Harry's aunt eagerly signed the forms, the headmaster surreptitiously struck the water in her glass with a Somnolus.

"There, that should be everything."

"Thank you, Petunia."

"My pleasure."

And to celebrate, she downed her glass – only to fall onto the floor with a thud.

My apologies, Petunia, but I'm sure that you do not want me touring your house.

And he would be proven pathetically correct, as he ventured up the stairs.

An intense horror overcome him as he saw a door with a cat flap and many locks. Terror made him panic, as he sweated profusely and his heartrate skyrocketed. He fought off nausea while his body shook, causing the house to quake as lightning arced around him. With an effort that almost amounted to agony, he thrust his Occlumency shields up before purposefully moving towards the door.

What lay beyond was worse than he imagined.

The bed looked like it hadn't been made since Harry was there, the wardrobe and cupboard were in dire condition, and said cupboard was littered with neglected books and broken old toys. Moreover, the room had enough dust to give Dumbledore asthma. Capping off the whole miserable experience were the window bars.

Merlin's beard! This wasn't a room; it was a prison!

The headmaster fought like mad to stave off another panic attack, but fight he did. After he composed himself, he marched downstairs and revived Petunia.

"Uhhh…I signed the form, didn't I?" Petunia half-moaned as she recovered her bearings.

"Yes, Petunia. However, that does not conclude the matter", the headmaster replied with an increasingly cold tone.

Petunia winced as frost formed in the man's eyes.

"W-what do you mean?"

"Did you really believe that I wouldn't find out how you treated Harry?"

Petunia regained her courage as she sneered contemptuously at the headmaster.

"How I treated him is none of your concern. We never wanted him; you forced him onto us!"

"Then why did you not relinquish him?"

"Because you told us we had to keep him!"

"I said no such thing. You kept him because his presence benefited your family, although you obviously will not acknowledge that."

"Benefited my family? He took food out of Dudley's mouth!"

"Given Harry's size, I very much doubt that, Petunia. You should be ashamed of yourself. You have played into our society's worst prejudices regarding non-magical folk."

"Why should I care what those freaks think?"

"Because they may decide your fate when they discover that Harry lived here. Frankly, I doubt they would take kindly to the living conditions you forced him into."

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, won't we?"

I'm wasting my time here. Petunia shows no contrition for her behaviour. I will ask Harry whether he wants to press charges, and inform Arabella about what's happened. "If you are permitted to cross it, Petunia. Anyway, I bid you farewell."

"Good riddance!"

Bart glared at the floor before replying.

"Alright, I rescued Harry last year! But he looked like a street kid!"

"No doubt, Bart. I applaud your initiative. If it was possible, I would award points."

Bart looked taken aback.

"R-really?"

"Yes. Harry is lucky to have a friend like you."

Bart just stared at him uncomprehendingly.

Well, that was unexpected. "Thanks. Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta get some air."

And with that, he left the room.

Later that night, Harry's Sneakoscope spun and whistled, waking the lad up.

Hey, what's going on?

He then heard footsteps outside. Sticking his head out, he saw Bart pacing the hallway outside his bedroom.

Unbeknownst to Harry, Bart was being unusually contemplative, as he thought about Dumbledore. Was he a kindly old man with good intentions, or an exploitative snake?

Before he could decide, Harry spoke up.

"Bart, what are you doing?"

Bart smirked.

"Just lookin' for the meth lab."

Harry ground his teeth.

"There isn't a meth lab!"

"Maybe it's at Pervert Drive, then."

"It's not there either!"

"Well, how about Captain Hook's house?"

"ARRRGGGGHH!" Harry growled as he slammed the door shut, with the Sneakoscope whirling and whistling all the while.

Heh heh heh, Bart thought.

The next morning, Bart came up to Harry as the latter sat in the drawing room.

"What is it, Bart?"

"What's the Dude-sleys phone number?"

Harry frowned.

"Why?"

"Oh, I just wanna get back at them."

Harry sighed. Discouraging Bart was probably futile, and the Dursleys weren't worth protecting, anyway. So after grabbing some paper, he wrote the number down.

"Here."

"Thanks, dude."

"No problem. By the way, what subjects are you taking?"

"Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures."

Harry grinned.

"I'm taking Care of Magical Creatures too. Hey, do you know Hagrid will be our teacher?"

"That's awesome!" Bart gushed. "Maybe he'll show us a dragon!"

Harry shuddered. He wouldn't put that past Hagrid, and he wasn't ready to meet another Norbert. So he changed the subject.

"Why are you taking Ancient Runes?"

"Well, I was gonna take Muggle Studies or Divination, but Gemma told me that I could learn to put runes on anything. Skateboards, slingshots, condoms…seemed pretty cool."

Harry shook his head.

A rune-powered condom. That'll be the day. "Let's see, you wanted to take Muggle Studies to get an easy O."

Bart grinned.

"Damn straight. And Gemma told me that feeding the Divination teacher a whole pile of negative bullshit gets you an O."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"If you need some pointers, just tell me."

"Sure. Did you know that Lucius Malfoy's bail hearing is coming up?"

"Huh, what do you think is gonna happen?"

"Hmmm…you never know with the Malfoys."

"Yeah, well, I know that right now, I'm 2-0 up on Drainy. The way he's going, we're gonna need a 'SAVE THE DRAINY' fund or something."

"I'll throw in some knuts."

"Eh, I was gonna throw in a few thumbtacks."

Harry chuckled.

"So, um, how are Davis and Greengrass?"

"I think Tracey's Dad is solving a curse in Israel, and Daphne's in Prague, or something. And what about Ron and Hermione?"

"They're good. Hmmm…your sister's starting this year, isn't she?"

Bart sighed.

"Yeah."

"What house do you want her to be in?"

Bart thought for a moment.

"Not Slytherin."

"Why?"

"There are too many weirdos, and I don't want her to get hurt. Don't tell her I said that."

"I won't. Also…I found out who gave Ginny that diary."

"Who?"

"Violet Parkinson."

"Pants Down's mum?"

"Yeah."

"…so should I prank Pant-sy when I see her?"

"That'd be nice. But what about her mum?"

"Hmm…me and Gemma will think of something."

"Fair enough."

And Jake and Gemma felt fairly apprehensive as Bart knocked on the door to 742 Evergreen Terrace the next morning. For they weren't sure what horrors awaited.

They saw the door open with bated breath, only to discover that Homer…

…was clothed in his usual white shirt and blue trousers.

Well, this is a pleasant surprise, Jake thought before Homer spoke up.

"Hey, boy."

"Hey, Homer. How's Dobby been?"

Homer laughed.

"He's a real trooper. He wanted to clean the whole house! So I let him, 'cos I don't care."

Bart laughed.

"Ah, those whacky house elves.

Anyway, we were in the neighbourhood, and we were just wondering if we could borrow your auto-dialler?"

"Sure, Bart. You gonna use it for telemarketing?"

"Prank calls."

"Close enough. You guys wanna drink?"

"No, sir. Not unless you have Butterbeer", Jake joked.

"Butterbeer, got it", Homer replied before wandering inside.

Jake and Gemma exchanged odd looks.

"Muggles have Butterbeer?" Gemma asked.

"I suppose so. I'm just surprised that he hasn't done anything bizarre", Jake replied.

But he'd regret tempting fate, for Homer brought them…a slab of butter and some beer.

"OK, here's the butter and the beer."

The Farleys looked utterly flummoxed.

Performing to expectations again, I see. "Mr. Simpson, this is not necessary", Jake noted.

Homer then threw the slab of butter out the door.

"Alright then, here's the beer."

Gemma and Jake's jaws dropped. They just couldn't comprehend how idiotic Homer was.

Bart tried not to laugh as he interrupted.

"I don't think they want the beer, Homer. Just the auto-dialler."

"Oh, of course."

A short time later…

"Here's your auto-dialler."

"And here's our thanks", Jake replied. "Good day, sir."

"Yeah, see ya."

Homer then slammed the door in their face.

The Farleys stared at each other.

"Should I be relieved that he wasn't naked?" Jake asked.

"Certainly", Bart replied in a more cultivated tone. "Now – let's get this converted."

And so, some days later, the newly rune-powered AT-5000 auto-dialler was ready to rumble. The Farleys decided to put the device in the cellar so it wouldn't annoy them.

"Alright, we just gotta put this cassette in", Bart noted, "dial the right number, press 'REDIAL' and we're all set."

"Bart, what's telemarketing?" Gemma asked.

"Oh, it involves collecting money from unsuspecting people."

"Hmph, I can finally see the Slytherin in your family."

"Eh, don't be too impressed. Dad got caught eventually."

Gemma shook her head.

"I should have known."

Meanwhile, at 4 Privet Drive…

RING! RING!

"Dudders, could you please get that?" Vernon asked.

"Yeah, OK", Dudley petulantly replied. Although he wouldn't admit it, he did miss how Harry answered the phone. It saved him from moving, after all.

That was the only thing the freak was good for, the budding delinquent thought as he picked up the phone.

"What do you want?"

"It's a kind of magic…"

Dudley's jaw dropped.

"T-the freak…"

"Who is it, Dudders?"

Dudley turned towards his father.

"It's the freak. Do I tell 'im to get lost?"

"Yes, son."

"DON'T CALL US AGAIN, FREAK!" Dudley shouted before slamming the phone down.

"That showed him, boy!" Aunt Marge crowed. "A proper man puts people in their place, and nobody deserves it more than that horrible boy! Why did you keep him for so long, Petunia? If I got my way, he'd be at an orphanage!"

"Marge, I believe in the welfare of all children", Petunia sanctimoniously replied. "But if somebody else wanted him, I'm not saying no."

"You're so charitable, Petunia", Marge simpered.

"Thank you, Marge."

But just after Dudley sat down…

RING! RING!

"What, again?" Dudley huffed, before stomping over.

"It's a kind of magic…"

"SHOVE OFF, FREEEEEEEEEAAK!" Dudley roared.

Yet again, he set the phone down. Yet again, Marge praised him. Yet again, the phone rang.

Vernon wasn't the sharpest, but he realised that something was wrong, so he stormed over.

"It's a kind of magic…"

"DON'T YOU EVER DARKEN THIS DOORSTEP AGAIN, BOY!" he bellowed.

He then shoved the phone down, before being met with applause from the Dursleys…which would be short lived.

RING! RING!

Vernon seethed.

"That does it…THAT BLOODY DOES IT!"

He ran over, his fat jiggling comically as he did, before ripping the phone wire out.

"There, that should stop him!"

And it did…for a short time.

"They've probably ripped the phone out by now", Bart noted while idling on Gemma's bed. "Dobby!"

The house elf, sporting one of Lisa's dresses, appeared.

"Master Bart called?"

"Yes, sirree. You know where Harry's old house is, right?"

Dobby nodded.

"Do you know how to fix phones?"

"Dobby's magic can fix many things."

"Well, get to it. And check on the phone every hour, OK?"

"Yes, sir!" Dobby enthusiastically replied, saluting Bart before leaving.

"Bart, why was he wearing a dress?"

Bart leant back and smirked.

"Because I said he could."

And Dobby could, and would, annoy the Dursleys well beyond midnight, as Vernon wearily threw himself onto the bed.

"There. I know I've disconnected it this time."

But an hour later…

RING! RING!

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

An enraged Vernon leapt out of bed, grabbed his shotgun and hurtled towards the phone.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

"THERE! YOU'RE NOT BLOODY RINGING NOW, ARE YOU?"

When Bart woke up, he saw Dobby emerge in his vision.

"Ughhhhh…yeah, Dobby?"

"Sir, the bad Muggles have destroyed the phone!"

Bart chuckled.

"Well, uh, loosen one of their car wheels."

"Yes, sir!"

Some time later, Bart and Gemma were conversing on the drawing room's sofa.

"Are you sure Parkinson gave the Weasley girl that diary?" Gemma asked.

Bart nodded.

"Hmmm…we can't really implicate them, though."

"No, but we can make sure everyone at school knows about it."

"How?"

"The same way they heard that Drain-o was crushing on Hermione."

"Ah."

"Is Jake still gonna purchase a house in Springfield?"

"He plans to, after we've sold the apothecary."

"What about our autobiographies?"

"Our solicitors are still negotiating a price with Worple."

"I see."

And Bart would see that Dobby's harassment campaign continued over the coming days.

After he loosened the wheel on the Dursley sedan, causing Vernon to crash it, Dobby sabotaged Dudley's Super Nintendo, making it explode in the bully's face. He then blew the toilet up while Petunia was sitting on it, before sending Dudley's mountain bike through the kitchen window and ruining their dinner.

But that wouldn't be Bart's piece de resistance.

No, that was still in the works…

Author's Notes for Chapter One

Well, here's the first chapter, after a lengthy delay.

As promised, the Dursleys are dealt with, and the Parkinsons are discussed.

#69, Fossilway is based on #4, Fosseway, Stow-on-the-Wold, Gloucestershire. The name of the hometown where Dumbledore grew up may have been derived from that.

Quidditch dealing with declining attendances, and the authorities introducing a new, shorter format in response, evokes Twenty20 cricket supplementing Test cricket.

A sane Dumbledore would only accept Hagrid as a teacher if there were no other candidates, and certainly wouldn't let him teach with an animated, biting book.

'Sirius Orion Black' is fanon, but it's also a cheap joke.

The 'new socks' joke is a mythology gag from Book 1.

I assume you can strike liquids with spells.

The window bars were never removed here.

I assume they have bail hearings in the Wizarding World.

Songs: A Kind of Magic by Queen, Everybody Wants Some! by Van Halen

Simpsons episode references:

'Lisa's Date with Density': Leaving something in the bird bath

alexeie2006/Monster King: Thanks.

The Defender: All Springfield residents bar Lisa and Bart are non-magical.

bauers374: Yes.

espargento: Ya veo.

272877: Bart estuvo cansado de concentrando. Disculpa, mi Espanol no es tan bueno.