A/N It was only when Ariana pointed it out, that I realized that Malcolm's personal comments were not showing up in Italics. I have tried, but not yet figured out how to fix this mistake. Until then, I am reloading the previous chapters with Malcolm's comments in [Brackets]. I hope this will make the reading easier to follow. I didn't change this chapter, because Malcolm is not in this, so he makes no comments.

I should have checked, but that is what happens when you assume, except that u are exempt in this case, and it all falls on me. -HiBob





Chapter 8: Letters

Commandant Spangler walked into the dormitory room. A surprised Francis looked away from the owl and at the commandant. Both he and his roommate, Stan, snapped to attention.

"What is that creature doing in this room?" Spangler demanded, "No cadet is permitted to have pets of any kind."

"I'm sorry, sir," Francis began, "it just flew into the window, and gave me a letter."

Spangler stared at Francis with his eye, "If it isn't your bird, Cadet, then whose bird is it?"

"The United States Postal Service, Sir," answered Stan, "It was just delivering the mail, Sir."

Angered at being given a reasonable answer, the commandant turned to go, saying, "Pay the postage due, and get rid of it, NOW." With that, he left to continue his inspection.

"So, Francis, who's the letter from."

"It's from Malcolm," Francis said in surprise, "He says that he can do magic, and that he's going to school in Scotland to become a wizard."

Both cadets turned to look at the owl.

"Do you think he flew all the way?" Stan asked.

"No," guessed Francis, "It's probably just a local owl."

Stan nodded at the logic. "So your brother is going to be a wizard. What else does he say?"

"Let's see," Francis said, reading, "He says here that it has to be kept a secret and I can't tell anybody."

"Cool," Stan said, taking the letter to read. "Hey, Guys," he called out to two passing cadets, "You've got to read this letter."

"Stan, are you crazy?" Francis asked in disgust. "Do you really intend to walk around to everyone in the school, showing them that letter?"

"I apologize, Francis," Stan said with embarrassment, returning the letter, "I was just being foolish."

"Of course you were, Stan. That is why we have a Bulletin Board."



"So....," said Stevie, "Malcolm.....is a.....Wizard?"

"Yeah," said Dewey, "He's off studying magic in a big castle in Scotland or it might be in England it's pretty close to the border so I don't remember but I do remember that I have a friend there and he invited me to come by and play with him anytime and mom and dad are having a fireplace put in so we can become part of this big wizard thing like a magic bus and I can write to Malcolm all I want and send it to him by an owl but it has to be overnight because owls don't fly in the daytime unless they have too but sometimes they do because of the time zones but that's how wizards do things and we're not supposed to talk about it to anyone."

"Oh..." Stevie replied.

"Dewey," Lois called, "You aren't talking about you-know-what, are you?"

"No Mom, "Dewey replied, "I was talking about Malcolm."

The sound of dishes being slammed on the counter came from the kitchen.

"Honey," Hal called, "Mrs. Miller, Malcolm's old teacher is here to talk to us."

Lois raised her eyes upward, saying a prayer in vane for an easy day. Walking into the living room, she greeted the teacher. "What is it this time?"

"As you know," Christine Miller began nervously, "Malcolm's transfer to this school, Hogwarts, was very sudden and unexpected. I know you said it was a last minute thing, but the children are telling stories about him studying magic, and it sounds like it's more than card tricks and things like that. It sounds like witchcraft and sorcery."

"Where would they get stories like that?" Lois said in amazement. Instantly, awareness set in as she mentally listed the sons remaining at home. "Reese," she shouted, "Get out here."

"Honey," Hal interrupted, "He left just as the doorbell rang."

"Big Surprise," Lois said, sarcastically. Turning to the teacher, with steely eyes, she said in a threatening voice, "I didn't want to tell anyone this but now I have to. Malcolm is not going to any school of magic or anything. While we were on vacation, he had a nervous breakdown. He thinks he's studying to be a wizard like Merlin and all those guys, but he isn't. The school's real name is the Hogwarts Institute for Emotionally Disturbed Children. Are you happy now? Now you know my son's a wacko." Lois then began to cry obviously fake tears.

"Beautiful performance, Honey," Hal whispered as he comforted his wife.

"Maybe I should go now," said Christine as she ran for the door, crying, "Poor Malcolm, Poor Malcolm."

Hal and Lois began laughing as the coast cleared.

"That was an excellent idea, Lois. If everyone thinks Malcolm is crazy, than we can say anything about him, and it won't matter. God, I hate keeping secrets anyway."

Hal was interrupted by a knock at the still open door.

"Sorry to bother you," said a graying man, about fifty years old, "I'm David Winter, with the Department of Magic, Office of muggle intervention. We've had reports that your son's ability to perform magic has become, to be blunt, common knowledge. I'm here to see how serious the case is."

"Oh, we took care of it already," Hal said, inviting the man in. "My wife just told his old teacher that he went nuts and he's in a loony bin overseas."

Lois marveled at David as a full range of emotions moved over his face. Finally shaking his head, he asked, "Do you really think that will work?"

"Definitely," Lois told him, "Malcolm's old friends are spreading the stories about him, thanks to his soon to be permanently grounded brother. His teacher is going to tell them the 'truth,' and it will spread out from there like ripples in a pond. Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes," Mr. Winter said, "I think I could use some."

After a couple of hours of talk, David Winter got up to leave. "I'm really impressed, Lois, you did a better job on this and without magic, than most wizards could with all the spells in the world. I really like the part about telling everyone to just go along with his fantasy."

"Why, thank you, Dave," Lois said, clearly pleased at the compliment, "and don't forget, the next time you come by, apparate right into the kitchen. If we're not here, just curse the kids or something if they cause any trouble."

At that moment, Reese walked in. "Hello Mother, Father. I see we have a guest."

"Yes, we do," Lois said with a smile, "Dave, this is my son, Reese. Reese, You're grounded for life."

"Reese," Dewey called out as he ran into the room, crying. "They said Malcolm's really crazy, and that he isn't magic. Say it isn't true." With that he grabbed his brother's leg and continued crying.

"Mom, is that true? Malcolm isn't a wizard? He's really a fruitcake?" Reese asked in total surprise as Lois nodded her head.

"Wow. That's even better. I'll be really cool, now. I can't wait to tell people." He started to run off but remembered he was grounded. "Mom?"

"Go ahead," Lois said in disgust, "I'll ground you later."

Reese said a quick, "Thanks, Mom," and was gone.

Dewey stood up, dried his eyes and held out his hand. Hal reached into his pocket and handed over a five. Dewey continued to stand there until Hal gave him another five. "Thank You," he said, and left the room.

"I am deeply impressed," David said, "I do hope we meet again."

"Don't worry, Dave," Lois assured him, "I know my kids. You're going to be a regular here."

Laughing at what he thought was a joke, David said goodbye, and apparated away.



"Stevie, you do understand that Malcolm will be away until the holidays," Lois said, "and he may seem funny when he gets home."

"Yes.....I do......understand..." Stevie replied, "He's going......to.....be a......wizard."

"No, Stevie, that's wrong. He only thinks he's going to be a wizard. He had a nervous breakdown, and he's gone away for therapy."

"Excuse...me..," Stevie interrupted. "Then....explain that...," he said, pointing to the refrigerator.

There, on the refrigerator door, held in place by a kitchen magnet, was a picture of Malcolm, in pointed hat and robes, waving to everyone. The picture was so clear, you could tell that the other students were upset that he wasn't getting into line, yet. Lois looked at the picture, and shook her head.

"Stevie," She started to say, but she stopped when she saw he put his hand in front of his mouth and moved it as though locking a door. He then swallowed the key, saying, "Who would....believe me....anyway."

An owl flew through the open window, dropping a letter on the kitchen table. Lois picked it up and read the envelope. "It's for you, Stevie," she said and handed him the letter.