"Good Morning, Malcolm," Ginny said, "Have you heard anything about your brother? We want to know if he got our hexed letter."
"You sent Francis a hexed letter?"
"It was Draco's idea," she told him. "Once he opens the letter, your brother will have to tell the truth about everything, or he will suffer from perpetual flatulence."
"That explains it," Malcolm said. "My mom wrote to tell me that he was made an Honors Cadet, for displaying 'unbridled honesty.'"
Ginny muttered a few curses and walked off.
Commandant Spangler look at Francis, carefully. "Explain the party to me one more time."
Francis did so. "We knew you would be gone for the weekend. I ordered a few kegs of beer, charging it to the school credit card. I got the number, when I riffled your desk the previous week, looking for request forms. I bribed Cadet Smith in the motor pool into letting me use a truck. I gave him two bottles of Bourbon, that you kept locked up in your safe, which I opened with the use of a stethoscope I had stolen from the nurse's office when I went there faking an illness in order to get out of the ten mile march you had scheduled for that day. I brought back the beer along with six girls who said the were looking for something to do. I don't know what happened to the truck, or how that one keg exploded in your office, but I do have the phone numbers for three of the girls."
"And how did you figure out my pattern for making surprise inspections on a random basis," Spangler asked.
"What pattern?" Francis asked. "You always start with my room."
"Malcolm," Draco said, "it's time for you to explain why we are here on the fifth floor."
"That's easy," Malcolm said, "Look over the railing. You can see all the staircases between here and the ground floor."
"That is utterly fascinating," Draco said, forcing a yawn for emphasis.
"That's not all," Malcolm continued, "This spot is the only spot that never has a staircase under it, even when the staircases are moving."
"And the point is?" Draco asked.
Malcolm smiled, and pulled out a water balloon. "I'm going to prove my point by dropping this balloon over the railing, as soon as the staircases start to move."
"Oh. An experiment. And you what my help in looking for wet spots after the balloon breaks."
"No, Draco. I only want a witness, in case anybody says I made this up. Besides, I couldn't trust using water. I had to make up my own potion."
"Malcolm, I've just become interested. What kind of potion."
The Gryffindor smiled. "Colin Creevey gave me the idea. You know how he wants to be a professional photographer. He has potions to develop the pictures. Some of these impose a color, then dissipate."
"You're losing me, Malcolm. Get to the point."
"This isn't a water bomb, it's a paint bomb, except the paint disappears in two days. Until then, everything that gets hit will remain bright yellow. All I have to do is analyze the splash pattern, and I can prove my theory."
Draco clapped his hands together. "Very good, Malcolm. And we are going to wait here until the staircases start moving? I don't intend to stand around that long."
"It will only be. . ." Malcolm said checking his timepiece, ". . .two minutes from. . .now."
"Malcolm," Draco said, "You can't know that. The staircases move at completely random times. But you are my friend, and I'm going to be nice, you know. I will wait with you for two minutes."
"One minute, fifteen seconds."
Draco looked at his friend. Everyone knew Malcolm was smart, but he had never thought about it. If he understood correctly, the younger boy had just done something impossible. He watched carefully as the countdown continued. Malcolm readied his balloon, and counted out the last few seconds.
As the countdown reached zero, the staircases began to move. Malcolm dropped the balloon over the railing, and the two boys leaned over to look down. They heard the balloon hit, followed by several screams.
"OH NO, MY ROBES!" one girl screamed.
"That sounded like Pansy," Draco said.
Several other shouts drowned out any further remarks, until Argus Filch let out a holler from below, "MRS. NORRIS, WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOU?"
Draco turned to Malcolm and said, "I think you should reconsider telling people about your experiment."
Everyone was talking when Malcolm walked into the Great Hall for dinner. "Did you here the news, Malcolm?" someone asked, "Colin Creevey was called to the headmaster's office. He turned Filch's cat bright yellow."
"I know," said a second student, "Isn't it great? I didn't know Colin had it in him."
[I get it. It was the potion I used in my balloon. I probably should have told Colin about it.]
Malcolm sat down to eat, quite happy to have avoided trouble, when Professor Snape leaned over him and whispered, "You have detention with me tonight, and both of us know why. Keep it that way."
"What was that all about?" EJ asked as the Potions Professor walked away.
"He was reminding me that I have detention with him tonight."
"I'm curious, Malcolm. Why do you have detention this time."
"I can't say," Malcolm said.
"You mean you don't know?" EJ asked, incredulously.
"No," Malcolm replied, "I can't say."
Malcolm finished his meal, and walked to the Potions classroom. He found Draco waiting for him, smiling thinly. He also found Filch, Mrs. Norris (her fur now matched her eyes), and the headmaster.
"It will fade in two days," Malcolm said quickly.
"That is all the time I want with him," Filch said to Dumbledore.
"I will consider it, Argus," Albus Dumbledore said, "thank you for showing Malcolm the damage he has done."
Angrily, Filch left, carrying his cat. He glared at the boy as he left, and Mrs. Norris let out a loud hiss.
"It is a pity," Dumbledore said, "that Draco Malfoy does not run as fast as you do. Also, Colin Creevey had already reported some missing potions. I made the initial mistake of assuming it was the Weasley Twins." He looked at Malcolm, and asked, "Is it true, that you discovered the pattern of the staircases?"
"Yes, Sir," Malcolm answered in surprise.
He's impressed by what I did. I might get away with this.
"You'll have detention with Professor Snape for the next week, for throwing that balloon" Dumbledore said. "Next time, tell me, or one of the teachers, before you do something foolish. I could have told you if you were correct."
"I'm sorry, sir," Malcolm said, chastised.
"On second thought," Dumbledore said, as he turned to leave, "Make that two weeks. You did steal the potion from your house mate."
"No, I didn't," Malcolm said, as everyone stopped. "I made the potion myself."
"And who did you steal the ingredients from," Snape asked, as Malcolm became very interested in the floor.
As Malcolm took a seat, Professor Snape turned to Draco and said, "Mr. Malfoy, you may leave now."
Draco looked up in surprise. "I'm not being punished, Sir?"
Snape smiled and said, "You spent the afternoon with Malcolm. Isn't that punishment enough?"
"Good evening, Malcolm," Professor Snape said as the boy walked in for his detention. "Tonight, instead of cleaning up, I'm going to practice one of my lectures for the senior classes. Get your cauldron ready, and we'll see if you are as bad at advanced potions as you are at simple ones."
Four hours later, an exhausted Snape let him go, asking him, "Do you see why your theory was wrong, Malcolm? You cannot mix ground mandrake and control the results as well as with slices of the root. You have to do some things slowly, and let the ingredients blend."
"Thank you for spending the time with me, Sir," Malcolm said as he walked off.
Severus Snape shook his head. "I swear, that boy lives for detention," he said to himself.
Malcolm walked back to the common room, and turned the corner to where the portrait sat, with Sir Cadogan guarding the entrance way. Instead he ran into a troll, who held up his club and demanded, "Who are you and what do you want?"
"To leave," Malcolm said, showing his nimbleness and dexterity by running in the opposite direction as quickly as possible. The troll scratched his head and said, "Must be lost." "You scared him with that little club of yours," the other troll laughed.
Malcolm ran for a good length until he ran into Professor Snape, who greeted him, saying, "Oof. Watch where you're going." Without uttering a single coherent word, he explained the entire matter to the Professor. Snape nodded his head and took the boy in hand, leading him to the nearby Slytherin common room. Malcolm was given an empty bed, and a sleeping draught, while Snape left to find out what "Tro-o-o, biiiiig, GGGry," meant when combined with wildly waving hands. All he understood was that it was happening at the Gryffindor dorms.
Draco woke up late, dressed and went to the common room, where he found Malcolm sitting by the fireplace. "Did you get lost?" he joked.
"No, Snape brought me here. I slept in some bed in the first years dorm. He drugged me."
"Wise thinking on his part," the Slytherin laughed, "Malcolm, you woke most of us up, when you came in. Of course, Snape gave you a sleeping potion. Then he had to come back and tell us what happened. Sirius Blake broke into Gryffindor, and attacked Ron Weasley by mistake."
"Was he hurt?"
"Unfortunately no, but the Weasel did scream like a little girl. That's why they put the trolls there, as extra guards."
"When did all this happen?" Malcolm asked.
"Well," Draco said, "The Weasel was attacked the night Snape brought you here, and they put the trolls there as guards last night."
"How long have I been here?"
"Madame Pomfrey said you had a fairly big fright, and gave you another draught, just to make sure you slept it off. It's been two days."
Malcolm shook his head, "That doesn't make sense. If the trolls only arrived yesterday, how did I run into them the night before."
"Just helping out in the search, I would guess. And they didn't just arrive. They've been part of the security since Black escaped. Haven't you seen them at the Quidditch matches."
Malcolm paled, "I don't go to Quidditch Matches. I get sick when I fly brooms."
"I don't get it, Malcolm. You lean out of windows on the top floors to see if you can spit all the way to the ground, yet you lose your lunch if you're more than two feet off the ground on a broom."
Draco led Malcolm to the Great Hall, explaining about the trolls, and how they make patrols on the grounds. "They were right behind McGonagall at the last match, when we tried dressing up as dementors."
"I told you it wouldn't work," Malcolm said, "not after the real ones had been there."
"And you were right. All Potter did was shoot some spell at us, and catch the snitch anyway. We're here. I'll see you in detention"
They entered the Great Hall and Draco handed Malcolm to the first Gryffindor he came across. Neville smiled at the disheveled Malcolm, and led him to a seat. "I'm in trouble, Malcolm. I'm the one who let Sirius Black into Gryffindor."
"You shouldn't have done that," Malcolm said, "They're going to kill you when they find out."
Neville looked surprised. "Malcolm, have you been asleep for the past two days? Everyone already knows about it. Black found my list of passwords, and now everyone blames me."
Malcolm told Neville he was right about being asleep, and explained what happened. "Are the trolls still there?" He asked, then added, "I'll be camping out for the next few weeks."
"Do you need company?" Neville asked. "I'm not even allowed to have the password anymore."
"Ron looks pretty upset," Malcolm commented, "I guess it hurts having your pet rat eaten, then almost get killed because somebody picked the wrong bed."
"Just ask him," Neville said, "He'll tell you more than you want to know."
"It was terrible," Ron Weasley could be heard saying, "I awoke to the sound of fabric being ripped. It was a sharp knife, slicing through the drapes around my bed. . ."
"He's getting very good at telling that story," Neville said.
"What's Colin Creevey doing over there?"
"You've heard how he turned Mrs. Norris yellow?" Neville asked.
[Yeah, I know all about what HE did. I get to spend two days with Filch if I tell anyone the truth.]
"He deny's it all the time," Neville continued, "but it got the other students talking about his photography. He's taking a group picture of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team. They're calling it their championship photo."
"I thought Gryffindor just played Ravenclaw?" Malcolm asked.
Neville looked at the first-year and realized that Malcolm had never bothered to learn the first thing about Quidditch, "It's an honest mistake. Don't worry about it."
Malcolm walked into the potions room for his nightly detention, to find it crowded. Neville was there, because of his blunder with the passwords. Draco was there with Crabbe and Goyle, as well as half the Slytherin Quidditch Team. They had all won first prize in the dementor look-alike contest. Two strangely colored Ravenclaw's were there as well. They had tried to imitate the 'Creevey' potion, and failed. Last of all, were Percy Weasley, and his girlfriend, Penelope. When Malcolm asked, Percy explained that cataglottism is forbidden on school grounds. He never explained what the word meant. (When Malcolm looked up the definition, it was defined as a form of deosculation. Malcolm looked at the cover page and found out that the dictionary was printed in 1786.)
[(I wonder. Do they mean A.D. or B.C.)]
Malcolm took a seat next to Neville, but was told to sit with Draco. Neville, and most of the Slytherins, were sent off to wash bottles, clean storerooms and other chores. Percy and Penelope were given the task of mixing a potion that would turn the two Ravenclaws back to normal colors. "And the two of you will come with me," Snape said, leading them out of the room and down the hall. "Since you are such good friends, I will give you something you can do together."
They were led to a room where several trolls where lounging around. Malcolm's heart started beating fast, and he began to back out of the room. "Don't be afraid," Snape said with a surprising soothing voice, "It makes your hands shake, and you won't do a good job. There is the wood polish, and the trolls will hand you their clubs." With a chuckle he left the room.
A troll walked over, placed his club down on the table and said, "Make it shine, or I make you short."