Professor Snape smiled at Malcolm as the boy stood in front of him. "I'm going to do you a favor, Malcolm. I'm going to forget about the rest of your detentions. Would you like that?"
"I would, Sir, but, what's the catch?"
"It's simple, Malcolm. You are a trusted member of Gryffindor, and I wish to use that to promote friendship between the various houses. I'm even going to let Draco Malfoy escort you into Hogsmeade this weekend. Don't you think that is nice of me."
"Yes, Sir. Very nice."
[I think he's being nice. Don't you think he's being nice? Everyone here at school says, "Severus Snape, what a nice guy."]
"I think I understand, Sir. You want everyone to see me with the Slytherins, so that they won't trust me as a Gryffindor," Malcolm said,"Well, it won't work."
"Do tell me why," The Potions Professor asked with amusement.
"Because they don't trust me, already," Malcolm said, smugly.
"I'll keep that in mind, Malcolm," Snape said, stifling a laugh, "Do you have any money saved up?"
"I'm still getting my allowance from home," Malcolm answered carefully.
"That's good, Malcolm. When Draco takes you to the apothecary, you will purchase enough potion ingredients to replace what you stole." Professor Snape leaned forward, and added, "I couldn't care less about who trusts you."
Chagrined, Malcolm left the potions class and headed for the Great Hall. As he approached the staircases he paused to look around. The Staircases had changed to a new pattern. He forgot all about eating and went to the fifth floor and looked down. He waited patiently until the staircases began to move. He checked his watch, and checked to see where the staircases moved to. He sat down and started calculating. There would have to be some more checks but he was sure of the new pattern.
As Malcolm walked back to the common room, he felt some pride. Someone had altered the magic of the stairwells because of him. Now, he wanted to know how. He added it to the list of things to do.
He walked into the common room, as his fellow first-year, EJ, came out. "You're up early, Malcolm," he said. "Have you had breakfast already?"
Draco waited by the entrance for Malcolm to show up. After almost everyone had left, he can down the stairwell, smiling. "I did it," He said excitedly, "It was easy to figure out. All they did was reverse it. Next time, I'm going to make the change."
"I'm happy for you, Malcolm. You are talking about the staircases, aren't you? Well, I'm not up for another experiment." Draco looked closely at his friend. "How much sleep did you get last night."
"None," Malcolm admitted, "I got too involved. At one point, I think I tried to explain everything to Mrs. Norris."
Draco shook his head. He seemed to have bad luck picking his friends, and Malcolm was a case in point. Potter had the Weasel, who was at least consistent and always ready to help. Malcolm, on the other hand, was always willing to find out, if somebody said, "What would happen if. . ."
The two walked into Hogsmeade, getting more than a few stares. Draco led the way to the apothecary, and Malcolm spent most of his money on replacements for what he had borrowed.
[Yes. Borrowed. I always intended to replace everything, just not so publicly.]
"Malcolm, let's get something to eat, and then I'm going to excuse myself. . ."
"You're going to ditch me."
"I didn't say that."
"I didn't say you said it, I said you were going to do it. Well, Draco, are you."
"Yes, I was planning on it, Malcolm."
"That's cool with me," Malcolm said, "It's what I would do if I were with Dewey. The truth is, it is what I do when I am with Dewey."
"Then it's not a problem," Draco asked in surprise, then wondered why he should be surprised.
"Why should it be a problem," Malcolm said, "I'm in Hogsmeade. If anybody asks, either I waiting for you, or I lost you. If I get busted, it's your fault."
"I can live with that," Draco said, "Here's a Galleon, if you need something."
"Thanks," Malcolm said, taking the money, "but I just want to show you the way my brothers and I ditch each other. Could you wait here for just a minute, I need to get something."
[It should take him about ten minutes to figure it out.]
Malcolm stopped in the Three Broomsticks to get something to eat, but was spotted by some teachers. He made the quick excuse that Draco was talking to some friends, while he was getting the food. That meant he ended up with two sandwiches. He shook his head as he left, and looked for a quiet spot to eat. That would give Draco enough time to get away.
He ended up on the edge of town, on a hill over looking some fields, and sat down against a rock. He blinked his eyes, and when he opened them, it was dark. He was confused until he reminded himself that he hadn't slept at all the night before. He felt the cold, suddenly, and remembered: Dementors patrol the town after sundown.
"You'd best come away quick," a voice whispered.
Malcolm turned around to find himself face to face with Sirius Black, the mass murderer, who failed in his last attempt to kill Harry Potter.
"Oh, hi Sirius," Malcolm said, "what are you doing here?"
"Just trying to save your life," he answered in a casual voice, then added, seriously, "the dementors are hungry, and you would make a nice snack. Follow me, and stay close."
Malcolm watched with curiosity as the man transformed into a large black dog. As the dog walked off, Malcolm stayed close. After a roundabout journey, they came to the other side of Hogsmeade, and the Shrieking Shack. The dog transformed back into a man, and quickly removed a plank, then a second one. Malcolm crawled in, and Sirius followed, replacing the planks.
"Why are we here?" Malcolm asked, "Isn't this place supposed to be haunted?"
"It's supposed to be," Sirius said, "but it isn't. Personally, I find that rather convenient. Did I smell food on you, by the way?"
Malcolm laughed and pulled the sandwiches out of his robe. Sirius thanked him, unwrapped one, and ate hungrily. As he finished, Malcolm asked him about how he changed. into a dog. Sirius said that it was mostly routine for him, the hardest was the first time. Malcolm added the idea to his list.
"Now, let's get you back," Sirius said, and led him slowly through the dark room to a staircase that went down. When they reached the dirt floor, Sirius had Malcolm make a light with his wand. Malcolm had to ask about Ron, and Sirius told him that he wasn't after the boy, he was after the rat.
"You don't have to worry," Malcolm said, "He's been eaten by Hermione Granger's cat."
"No he hasn't," Sirius said, "I talked to Crookshanks, and he said that the rat got away."
"Is Crookshanks, you know. . ." Malcolm asked.
"A cat, yes," Sirius said, " and I was able to talk to him as a dog, after a fashion. You can't get too esoteric when all you can do is bark." He paused, then asked, "Malcolm, do you trust me?"
"Well, I did follow you at night to a deserted house and then into the cellar. I think that make's it a yes."
"Good. Because I don't want you to tell anyone what is going on. The wrong person might hear."
Malcolm nodded. "I'm getting good at keeping secrets. I never told anyone about Mrs. Norris. Everyone knows, of course, but that's not the point."
Sirius gave the boy a bemused smile. "Thank you, Malcolm. We're almost there. I'm going to do something to cause the Whomping Willow to freeze. You'll be at the base of the tree when you climb out, and you'll have about five seconds to get clear. And thanks again for the sandwich."
Malcolm jumped out of the secret passage, and sprinted clear of the tree, making his way back into the school. Sirius Black watch him go, and uttered his amazement. The boy never doubted him, despite everything he had been warned about. Even before his friends died, no one ever trusted him that much. He returned down the tunnel and back to the Shrieking Shack. At the top of the stairs, he found the bag, and the second sandwich.
"Reese." Lois called out, "What are you doing. Get ready for school. Dewey, don't eat those candies in the livingroom. You're leaving feathers all over the place." Exasperated she said, "Hal, will you do something about this."
"I'm on it," Hal said as he got up and left for work.
"Thanks for the help," Lois muttered.
"Mom, I finally figured it out," Reese said, coming into the room.
Lois rolled her eyes and asked, "What did you figure out.?"
"About Malcolm. He IS crazy, AND a wizard. That's why we had to have him locked up."
"Reese, I'm amazed. You are right on the money."
"I knew it," Reese said, gleefully, as he walked off to school.
Dewey walked up to his mother, and asked, "Can I take my friend Peeves to school. It's show and tell."
"Fine dear," Lois said, then addressed his imaginary friend, "Good morning, Peeves."
Dewey rolled his eyes, "He's in the livingroom, Mom."
Dewey left, telling Peeves to follow him. Lois looked up as her youngest son raced out the door. She could have sworn she heard two voices. She went to vacuum the livingroom again, wishing that whoever had invented Canary Creams had been shot.
"Malcolm. please come with me," Dumbledore said as the boy walked down the hall. He fell in step with the Headmaster, and followed him to his office. He received a cup of tea, and sat back in a leather chair. Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, and looked at him carefully. "You went to Hogsmeade yesterday with Draco Malfoy. However, you did not come back with him. In fact, you did not come back at all. Would you like to explain how you got here."
"No, Sir," Malcolm said.
Albus did not smile. "This is a serious matter, Malcolm. Either you give me a full explanation, or you explain to your parents why you came home early."
"I found a tunnel, Sir."
"No, you didn't. I've checked all of the secret tunnels into the school, and while some have been used, none have been used by you."
"This is one of the ones that doesn't lead into the school, Sir, only onto the grounds."
Albus Dumbledore sat up with a start at that remark, and Malcolm realized he had said something wrong. He watched as the headmaster made the right deductions, and figured out how the tunnel was found.
"He didn't kill anybody," Malcolm said, "He told me it was a con job."
"And you believed him?" Dumbledore said, severely.
"Yes, I did," Malcolm said in an overly loud voice. In a lower tone, he added, "I know it's strange, but it's like with my brother. Reese does tell the truth, but a change always comes over him when he does. It's like he's trying to do something that he hasn't done in a long time. Sirius Black is the same way."
Albus smiled inwardly remembering his former student. "Thank you, Malcolm, for your honesty," he said, adding conspiratorially, "I have always had doubts about his guilt, and after listening to you, I feel that my doubts might be justified. But let us keep this a secret between us, however. If the wrong person should hear. . ."
"Yes, Sir," Malcolm said. As he left, he wondered if he should tell the headmaster about the rat.
[Do you ever get the feeling that all sorts of things are happening around you and you don't know it. I've had that feeling ever since I got here.]
It was Monday night, and Malcolm walked into Professor Binns' classroom for detention. Except for Professor Binns, the room was empty. "Hello, Malcolm," the professor said, "There is no detention tonight, but I waited around in case you showed up. Please sit down."
Malcolm took the seat pointed out to him, and sat. A feeling of uneasiness began to creep into him. It was made worse when the ghost said, "We are having a problem with you, Malcolm, and I have been asked to deal with it. First, tell me who gave you detention."
"Professor Flitwick, Sir. He told me . . ."
"No, he didn't," Professor Binns said, "All of the teachers, and not only the ones you have classes with, were told by Professor Dumbledore not to give you detention today, regardless of what you did. If you wish to stand by your excuse, I will call Professor Flitwick here to verify it." He watched as Malcolm gave him a stunned look, and continued, "Professors Snape and Lupin have also commented on how frequently you show up when they hold detention, especially when they insist on holding lessons as part of the punishment." He paused and gave a ghostly smile. "Since you insist on showing up, anyway, we want to make the best of it."
By the time Malcolm had left, his class schedule had been changed. He would no longer take Flying lessons, as long as he continued to attend the nighttime lectures that were the bane of every other student. Instead, he would sit in on the second year potions classes, except for days of double potions. On those days, he would report to the Arithmancy Professor, who would tutor him on the basics of the subject. If he did as well as expected, then he would take an advanced course next year, instead of the basic course. He was also excused from his History class, and could use the time to audit various courses instead, subject to the approval of the headmaster.
As he turned to leave, Professor Binns stopped him to make one last comment. "Do you know why some people become ghosts?" He smiled at the boy's stare, and continued, "It is because they have unfinished business. And you are my unfinished business, Malcolm. You and the others like you who want to know more than what the teacher tells you in the classroom. I feel the need to be there, in case I can make a difference. And I fear I will be a ghost for a very long time. There will always be another student who wants to learn."
Malcolm walked back to the common room with a quick pace. He walked in with a smile on his face, causing everyone to wonder what he had done. He had to tell someone the good news, someone who would understand.
Hermione Granger listened to what he told her, and gave him a congratulatory hug. Ron had to laugh. Only Hermione would think extra classes was good news.
"So, Francis," Stan asked, "what's the latest word on your brother, the wizard?"
"I'm not really sure," Francis replied, "I got his latest letter, but all he says is that he finally figured out how the staircases work. Does that make any sense to you."
Stan mused for a bit, then said, "Staircases can be tricky things. I went to this mall last weekend, and they even had one that moved. Do you think that's what he figured out."
"I don't know," Francis said, "Maybe Mom was telling the truth when she said he went mental."
Stan nodded as he scratched the owl's chin, "That would explain the weird post office he uses."