A/N I have to acknowledge s goof. LOTR FrEaK pointed out that Dobby did not start working at Hogwarts until Malcolm's fourth year. He may have started working earlier, but not before the Christmas Holidays. Harry would surely have known.
I have several people asking who Camilla is. I will repeat what I said in an earlier note: The letters she sends refers to an argument Malcolm had in Diagon Alley. (see chapter with that name). If you can't figure it out, then put it down as a running joke that will be resolved in Malcolm's third year. I refuse to be more specific.
Lastly, Thanks to everyone who has been reading, and especially to the reviewers. I love knowing how people see my writing. - HiBob
Chapter 18: A Fateful Trip
"Malcolm," Neville called out, "How did your exam go?"
"I got out of taking it," Malcolm said happily, "I had to argue with Madam Hooch for almost an hour that I had been permitted to drop the course. I finally convinced her by admitting I had eaten breakfast."
"You have got to be kidding."
"I wish I were," Malcolm sighed, "she started laughing so hard she just waved me away."
As the Potions exam ended, Professor Dumbledore came up to Malcolm. "And how do you think you did."
"I passed everything, Sir," Malcolm replied, "I remembered it all, although I don't think I understood it all."
"That is good to hear," Albus said, "then may I ask you a favor?
"Uh, I guess," Malcolm said cautiously.
[When a teacher asks you a favor, they're telling you what to do. I'm either going to hate this or love it. There's never a middle ground.]
"Things are coming to a head over the affair with the hippogryph, and I have an unusual request to make of you," Albus said carefully. "The final hearing, and the probable execution, of Buckbeak will be held tomorrow, but Lucius Malfoy feels it best that his son not be present, for the sake of appearances. He would prefer not to simply bring him home early, and I have offered a compromise."
"And you want me to be the excuse," Malcolm said, "Where are we going?"
Albus smiled, "You are a bright lad. The official story is that Draco is taking you to Diagon Alley, but he is not free to say why. It is a personal matter on your part, and he insists on keeping your confidence. I did tell Malfoy that you were scheduled to see a Doctor, about your air sickness, and offered to give his son the position of responsibility as your escort."
"That's no problem. I'll tell a couple of people, in confidence, that I'm going to a doctor. Everyone will know before we even leave, and it will seem perfectly normal."
Dumbledore grinned widely, "Brilliantly simple, Malcolm. I will even arrange for a doctor to examine you, in case it is a problem. Of course, if you take too long, you will have to spend the night at the Leaky Cauldron. Will you mind that?"
[I have to spend a night, in London, without adult supervision. You can tell how upset I am.]
"Not at all, Sir. When do I leave?" Malcolm asked.
The headmaster seemed surprised, "Don't you have any questions? I thought you would at least be curious why I'm asking you."
"No questions," Malcolm said, "at least none that you'll answer, if I'm right. There is something else going on, and I'm guessing you want to get rid of me, as well."
"You are half right, Malcolm. There are several something elses going on, but I would prefer to have you here. You will know about some of them by the time you return and, hopefully, some of them you will never need to know about."
Albus grinned as the boy turned to leave. He was always amazed at how quickly Malcolm would adapt himself to any situation. Then the boy turned around and called back to him.
"Oh, I do have a question, Sir," Malcolm said, "but I don't know if it is appropriate." Albus nodded his head, and Malcolm asked, "Christopher Lee or . . ."
". . .Richard Harris," Albus said, with a chuckle. "I have heard about your question, and it is not appropriate. When I came here, muggles had no such things as movies, although there were plenty of books. For me it would be what character, not what actor."
"Okay," Malcolm said, "Count Dracula or King Arthur."
"Pip," Albus said, grinning as Malcolm frowned, "From 'Great Expectations.' I always felt as though I was in a novel by Charles Dickens, a popular writer when I first came to Hogwarts." He smiled whistfully, and added, "I frequently find myself looking at the students and imagine them to be other characters from his novels."
"Really?"
"I expect you would like an example?" Albus asked, with mirth. "We'll start with you. I immediately pictured you as Oliver Twist, the title character, except with a blank book instead of an empty bowl. It is funny, because my first impression of Draco Malfoy was that he was the Artful Dodger from the same book."
"I am curious, Sir, because of their feelings toward each other, how do you see Harry Potter?"
"I see him as the title character of a different book, David Copperfield," Albus answered. "When he first arrived here, the look on his face was the one I had always imagined on young David, when he arrived at his aunt's house."
Malcolm woke from his nap to find the train was coming to a stop. "Where are we?" he asked Draco. "This isn't London by a long shot."
"It's a hospital," Draco said without a smile.
Malcolm got off the train and followed his friend into the large building. They were escorted through long hallways to a small room, where a familiar looking blond boy was playing with some blocks. The boy stopped what he was doing when Draco entered, and held out his hand. Draco reached into his robes and pulled out a yellow block with a duck painted on each side. He handed the block to the boy, who took it gingerly.
"Basil, this is my friend, Malcolm," Draco said, pointing behind him.
"Hi, Basil," Malcolm said, as he walked up and held out his hand.
Basil ignored him, and turned back to his blocks.
"Basil," Draco said, "Malcolm is a good friend of mine. We go to school together. We even spent time together over the holidays. I'll ask if you could come next time. We would like that."
Malcolm listened as Draco talked to the boy. The name tag on the door said Basil Smythe, but he knew differently. Madame Pomfrey had told him, that day he had asked her about Stevie. Everybody knows someone. . .even a brother.
"I don't know what to tell you about Malcolm," Draco was saying, " He has always been a good friend, you know."
Malcolm interrupted the one sided conversation and said, "Basil, don't let him tell you about broom flying, if he talks about me you'll never stop laughing."
"That's true, Basil. Malcolm is hopeless on a broom."
After a short time, a nurse came in and asked Malcolm to follow her. She led him to a room and asked him to remove his robes. The doctor came in, examined him, and said, "You're in perfect health, son. Do you have problems other than when you are flying a broom?"
"No, sir," Malcolm admitted.
The doctor looked at the boy, and asked, "are you having any problems at home.?"
"No, sir, I'm at school."
[I know where this is leading to, and I don't want to talk to a head doctor. They're all crazy.]
"Malcolm, I have a good friend I would like you to talk to. I'll talk to your headmaster, and set up an appointment."
"I'm fine. You just said so."
"I said you were healthy, son. There is nothing to worry about."
"I'm not crazy," Malcolm yelled, "I don't what some dumb shrink asking me a lot of stupid questions."
"Of course not, son," the Doctor said, soothingly, "It isn't that serious a matter. It's almost the end of your school year, anyway. We'll see if you still have this problem when you return in September. If you do, you'll talk to my friend. Do you agree."
[I'm screwed. All I need now is for everyone to call me a nut case for real.]
"And if I say no."
"You can talk with my friend, today."
"September sounds wonderful," Malcolm said miserably.
"Thank you for coming, Malcolm," the nurse said as she escorted him back to Basil's room. "When your brother, Draco, asked us to add your name to the visitors list, we were happy that more of the family wanted to get involved." She smiled and gave a conspiratorial wink.
"When did Draco, uh, my brother do this?" Malcolm asked.
"Shortly after the Christmas holidays," she told him.
"Can I ask," he said, uncomfortably, "What is wrong with Basil? If it's all right to tell me."
"You are family, Malcolm Smythe, and you do have a right to know," the nurse said, rubbing his shoulder, "Basil is a very bright little boy, but that is also his problem. He cannot cope with it, so he retreats into a shell, a closed world. He is what we call a Savant."
"Can't you help him?"
"We could train him to cope," the nurse said sadly, "but that would take years, and your 'father' felt it was not worth the effort. We do some work with him, but mostly we keep him happy."
The way the nurse said that, sounded an ominous note. Malcolm shivered at the possible meanings of 'but that would take years.'
Malcolm joined Draco and the two Hogwarts students talked about anything they could think of, always directing their conversation to the young boy. It didn't seem to matter what was said, as long as it was directed to Basil, and not at him. Finally Malcolm asked Draco, "why did you tell them I was your brother?"
"Later, Malcolm," Draco said, irritated at the interruption. "This is time for Basil."
"I'm sorry. I was just asking a question," Malcolm said testily, "I didn't mean to disturb your conversation. . ."
"Malcolm, I asked if you could come, because I thought you would understand. When I'm here I want to talk to Basil. I don't want you to disrupt that," Draco retorted.
"Maybe I should leave," Malcolm said, raising his voice, "You're taking this too seriously. . ."
"Who are you," Draco yelled, "to tell me. . ."
"Excuse me," the nurse said, and pointed at Basil.
The two turned to see the young boy staring at them. Draco stared openmouthed that Basil had reacted. The nurse told them to say something, quickly, and Malcolm blurted out the first thing he could think of.
Pointing his finger at the boy, Malcolm said, "I made you look."
[Boy, that was a brilliant remark on my part.]
Basil stared at the smiling boy. He then took all of his blocks, went to the farthest part of the room and sat down again.
"He is smart," Malcolm said, "he's ignoring us again."
"He's ignoring YOU," Draco said with a smile. "He's very smart."
"I'm sorry," Malcolm said, "for arguing. I was just curious. . ."
"It's all right," Draco replied, "I've always been alone with Basil before. I overreacted." Draco looked at his friend and asked, "I made you look? How could you come up with something so stupid?"
When it came time to leave, and Malcolm said goodbye, Basil looked up, and smiled.
As they walked from the hospital, Draco confided in him, and also asked his help. "Malcolm, you can't tell anyone about this. Even father doesn't know that I come here. Only Dumbledore knows, and Professor Snape. The hospital staff knows, of course, but they are taught to be discreet."
"I promise, Draco. And. . .I liked to come again, if you don't mind"
Draco actually laughed. "You're joking, Malcolm. Why would you want to come here a second time."
"I don't know," Malcolm said, "But I do."
Draco looked at his young friend's face and said, with a smile, "A serious Malcolm? I never thought I would see the day." He paused , and looked at his friend with a fresh perspective.
Malcolm broke his reverie by asking, "How do we get to London?"
"What are you talking about? We're nowhere near London."
"But Dumbledore told me. . . "
"Malcolm," Draco laughed, "If we missed the last train back to Hogsmeade, then we would have been put on a train to London to spend the night. But the last train back to school leaves in thirty minutes, and the station is only a ten minute walk."
"Oh," Malcolm said, "then they trust us to get on the right train?"
"Of course, Malcolm. It isn't as though they think we are idiots," Draco said, then stopped as he followed Malcolm's line of thought. "There's a train to London in eight minutes, we can make it if we run."
Two young boys, in jeans and t-shirts were walking around London. "This is amazing," Draco said, "I can't believe muggles live like this. What is that thing."
"It's an abandoned car on fire," Malcolm said.
"Marvelous, and that over there?"
"That's a naked man arguing with a wall."
[I getting a really bad case of Deja Vu here. If my dad comes out of an adult bookstore, I'm going back to that hospital.]
"I like the weird ways people dress," Draco said, laughing"look at that man coming towards us with that stupid hat. What does he think he is."
"I'm not sure," Malcolm said, as the man stopped in front of them, "In the states, we'd call him a police officer."
"Are you lost," the constable said.
"Malcolm," Draco asked, "What should I say? Malcolm? Malcolm?"
"We'll find him," the constable said. "Would you come with me please."
"Yes, I know both of them," Argus Filch said to the face in the fireplace, "they are both smart. Too smart if you ask me. Two of the most hopeless cases I've ever seen. I'm amazed that either of them are still at this school."
"They are a couple of smooth characters," the face admitted, "but they did manage to get hold of us without the muggles being any the wiser. We'll send them back on the first train tomorrow morning."
"I'll inform the headmaster as soon as he is free." Argus said, "We'll have the groundskeeper meet your man at the station." Then he added, "and if you could send them back in chains, it would be appreciated."
Filch muttered to himself in disgust. One more thing to add to the list of calamities for the night. He informed the headmaster of what had happened, asoon as he had the chance, and went back to bed, dreaming happy dreams of Malcolm being expelled.
"I have to thank you, Draco. That was the best time I've had in a long while."
"There's no need to thank me, Malcolm. Most of it happened because of the muggle trick of yours. What do you call it?"
"A fake ID. Francis had it made for me, just in case."
Malcolm looked out the window of the train and noticed that they were coming close to Hogsmeade. "Excuse me," he said, "I'd like to go to the . . ."
The Ministry Aide sitting across from the two boys told him no. "We're almost at the station, and the handcuffs stay on until I turn you over. You can wait till then."
[It doesn't matter. I only wanted to see if I could pick the lock.]
"I think we're going to get away with it," Malcolm said.
Draco said, "I had such a good time, I don't care if we get away with it or not."
Both boys laughed, and the Aide scowled. That caused the boys to laugh even harder.
When the train stopped, Hagrid was waiting for them. The Aide had Hagrid sign for custody of the two boys, and removed the handcuffs. He handed the official report to the giant, and walked away, muttering about kids these days.
"Yer in fer a treat, Mr. Malfoy," Hagrid said, laughing. "I get to tell yer what happened. At the very last minute, Buckbeak escaped. Do yer believe it?"
"Malcolm," Draco said angrily, "I can't stand it. Everything I did, all my efforts, and the blasted thing runs away. I hate it."
"You can't do anything about it, so calm down," Malcolm said, "Just think of. . ." and Malcolm whispered the rest of the sentence so that Hagrid would not hear.
Draco snorted. "It helps, Malcolm, but I'm still upset about it. Potter is going to rub it in my face. I know it. And that blasted Weasel will, too." He muttered and cursed al the way back to the school.