Malcolm, in the middle of his reveries, looked up to see his mom standing over him.
[Just before the end of school, last year, I ran off to London with Draco. But they were really nice about it. They let my mom punish me. Except for the occasional weekend, I get to do all the odd jobs my dad never did. Yesterday, mom ran out of chores and decided we needed a garden.]
"That's enough for today," Lois said, "Hurry up and shower. Draco will be here shortly."
Malcolm picked himself up, and dusted the dirt off his pants. "What's going on?"
"You and Draco," Lois said, "You're visiting a friend at that hospital."
"Why didn't you tell me, before?" Malcolm asked, annoyed and relieved at the same time.
"Because you're going to talk to that psychiatrist while you're there," Lois said.
"You know about that?" Malcolm said in surprise.
"Of course I do," Lois said, laughing. "The school tells me everything. I know about your air sickness, that time you ran into the troll, that mean trick you pulled on that cat. I even know about Dewey running around buck naked in the rain."
"You know about Dewey?" Malcolm asked in surprise.
"Of course I do. Do you think I would let him disappear all the time and not worry? That man, Dumbledore, talks to me regularly about what you've been doing, and what Dewey is up to. I know all about you," Lois said with a grin.
"I also know that Draco's parents don't know he's going to the hospital, that they think he's spending the entire weekend here." Lois looked at Malcolm and said, "Don't worry. I won't tell. Albus explained enough of it to me. I don't approve, but I'm willing to keep my mouth shut because my darling little boy is going to talk to the nice doctor."
[Damn.]
"Francis, what do I do?" Malcolm asked, as he put on a clean shirt. "Draco is waiting for me, and I'll have to talk to a shrink."
"Don't worry about it," Francis said, "they're all alike. He'll have his mind made up before you walk in the door. Just keep it simple, and get out as fast as you can."
"That isn't much help," Malcolm said, sadly.
"You could do what I did," Francis said, "Tell him that you do have emotional problems and offer him some money to agree with you. He'll label you sane out of spite, or, as in my case, let you pick your own psychosis."
"Your mother knows everything?" Draco said, as they waited in the hospital lobby.
"Just that she's doing you a favor," Malcolm muttered, "and now I have to talk to some doctor."
The nurse came to escort Malcolm, and Draco gave him a thumbs up, and a big grin. Malcolm was led into an office and sat down across from a young woman. "Good evening, Malcolm," she said, smiling. "I am Doctor Spencer, and you are the last of my patients in what has been a long day. How do you feel, because I am tired?"
"Well," Malcolm said, "I haven't had lunch yet, so I could come back."
Dr. Spencer laughed and said, "I'm sorry, I'm not that tired. And I only want to get to know you, today. I promise I won't try to analyze you until our second meeting.
[Second, as in 'there will be more.']
"We could use the Viennese approach, if you prefer?" the doctor asked.
"Huh," Malcolm replied, intelligently.
"Zo, tell me," Dr. Spencer said in a fake German Accent, "Vy do you hate your mutter?"
"Because she's a control freak," Malcolm answered, "When she found out about you she made me come here,"
Dr. Spencer started laughing, "Malcolm, you're supposed to say 'I don't hate my mother.' Then I ask about your father."
Malcolm blushed, saying, "Sorry, I thought you were being serious."
Dr. Spencer laughed again, "By talking with a bad German accent? You must be nervous. What can I do to get you to relax?"
[I could suggest letting me leave.]
"You could let me leave," Malcolm said hopefully.
"Not for another forty-five minutes," the doctor said. "I'll tell you what. Why don't we talk about that problem with the trolls?"
"I don't have a problem with trolls," Malcolm said. "All right, that first time I was scared, but that was because I had never seen them before, and I didn't expect them. But when I got to talk to them, I realized they were pretty nice. Dense, but nice."
"How did you get to talk with them?" Dr. Spencer asked with genuine curiosity.
"It was after I turned Mrs. Norris yellow," Malcolm explained, to be interrupted by Doctor Spencer's laughter.
"I'm sorry, Malcolm, but you will have to tell me THAT story, next."
"Sure," Malcolm said, smiling, "Anyway, I got detention for that, and had to polish the troll's clubs. That's when I started talking to Braak. He kept losing the head bashing contests because he couldn't handle a large enough club. He showed me how he held it and hit with it, and I showed him how to hold it more like a baseball bat. He won his next five matches."
"Wonderful," Doctor Spencer said, "Now tell me about Mrs. Norris."
After his session was over, Dr. Spencer promised to talk with him again in September. She refused to say why, but said she would be coming to the school on an irregular basis. Malcolm left, and after a couple of false turns, found his way to Basil's room.
Basil was Draco's nine-year-old brother. He was also a Savant, and the Malfoys had refused to have anything to do with him. He was even listed as a patient under the name of Basil Smythe. Draco Smythe and Malcolm Smythe, his 'brothers,' were the only two people who had ever visited him.
Basil spent most of his time moving building blocks around in intricate patterns. Draco had bought him a whole box, but for some reason Basil would only take one block per visit.
Malcolm walked in as Draco was explaining to Basil about Malcolm's family and how he and his brothers always got along yet never did get along, all at the same time.
[He makes us sound normal. OH GOD, what if we are normal?]
Malcolm said hello, and Basil looked up, smiled, stopped smiling, and went back to playing with his blocks. He seemed to ignore everything the other boys said to him, but they kept talking to him, anyway, with occasional remarks to each other.
Suddenly, Basil looked up and said, in Draco's voice, "Hello, Love." He then went back to his blocks. Draco and Malcolm stared at him, then slowly turned around. There, in the doorway, stood Ginny Weasley, looking very surprised.
"I hope it's nothing serious," Molly said, nervously, as the Weasley family was escorted through the hospital. "Your mother is getting on in years."
"I know, dear," Arthur said, "but it's only a hobby, and it doesn't cost very much."
"Oh, that's all right then," Molly said with a touch of anger, "It doesn't matter how dangerous it is, as long as it's cheap."
The Weasley's walked into the room, where Grandmother Weasley was lying in bed with a cast on her leg.
"Arthur, you have to do something," his mother complained, "They want to take my flying privileges away, because of one simple accident."
"Mother, you went sideways into a tree at over one hundred miles an hour," Arthur pointed out. "That was not a SIMPLE accident."
"I think it's great, Granny," Fred said, giving a thumbs up. "The flying that is. Too bad about the broom."
"I think the children can wait in the hallway," Molly said, daring her sons and daughter to say another word.
Ginny went out into the hallway and paced while her three brothers sat in the available chairs. She walked to the next corridor and looked down out of boredom. Her eyes widened as she recognized Malcolm walking away from where she was.
"Dad," Ginny asked as she ran into her grandmother's room, "I saw a friend, and I wanted to know if I could go say hi."
"Really," Arthur Weasley said, "Who?"
"It was . . . " Ginny said, and paused, remembering the last time she saw Malcolm, ". . . Neville Longbottom."
Her father gave her a strange looked, then leaned forward and asked, "Do you know about Neville?"
Confused, but refusing to admit it, Ginny whispered back, "He told me."
Arthur smiled, and said, "Go ahead, honey. I think Neville will appreciate having a friend with him."
Ginny ran out of the room and down the long hallway. With luck, she spotted Malcolm as he turned a far corner. Drawing stares, she rushed down that hallway, until she could see where Malcolm had gone, but there was no sign of him. She walked up to the nearby reception desk, and said, "Excuse me, I'm looking for a friend, but I don't remember where to find him."
The nurse looked up and smiled, then let out a gasp, "You're her. Are the two of you still dating? Will you autograph my magazine?"
The nurse opened a file drawer, filled with magazines. She pulled out the holiday edition of the Wizard Weekly, and held out a quill. Ginny looked down at the picture of her and Draco, and noticed Draco's signature. Smiling nervously, she signed her own name beneath his. The nurse thanked her profusely, then lead her to a small room. Malcolm and Draco were sitting on the bed facing a younger boy, who was sitting on the floor, playing with blocks.
The boy looked up and, in a perfect imitation of Draco's voice, said, "Hello, Love."
"Hi," she said to the figure who now ignored her. She turned to Draco and said, "I can explain. I saw Malcolm, and I followed him."
Draco sighed, "Who did you bring with you?"
"No one," Ginny said, "I told my dad I saw someone I knew, and wanted to say hello. My grandmother is here. She had an accident while broom racing . . . "
Malcolm watched as Draco thought briefly, then inwardly sighed when his friend said, "Ginny, this is my brother, Basil. Basil, I believe you recognized Ginny from what I've told you."
Ginny joined the group, promising quickly to keep it a secret. "Mum would have a fit if she knew I ran off to see 'Draco Malfoy'," she said laughing, then turned to Basil, adding, "she'd think you were cute, though, and try and take you home."
"Ginny," Malcolm asked, "How did you get your parents to let you follow me."
"That was the weird part," Ginny said, "I started to mention your name, but I thought better of it, so I gave Neville's name instead. Then Dad asked me, quietly, how I knew about Neville. I lied and said he told me, and Dad let me go." She looked Malcolm in the eye and asked, "Do you know why Neville would be here?"
Draco's drawl sounded behind her, "because his parents are here. Like Basil, they are also permanent guests."
As Ginny visibly shook, Draco gave her a hug, and whispered, "Sorry, Love, I just gave you another secret to keep. That one isn't a secret, really. It's just that people don't talk about it."
"You could have told me another time," Ginny said, sadly.
"But what would you say when your father wanted to talk with you about it?" Draco asked.
Basil, after a while, yawned and began to lie down on the floor. The nurse came in and picked him up, putting the now sleeping child into his bed. "He tires more easily these days," she said to Draco, who stiffly nodded, and the three students left.
Draco and Malcolm looked at Ginny, then at each other. "I'll meet you in the waiting room," Draco said.
"I'll walk back with you," Malcolm said, as he took Ginny's hand.
"The two of you must know each other well, to plan this without saying a word."
"Well, you took a couple of bad shocks," Malcolm said, "we want to make sure you're okay."
"And that I don't tell any secrets," Ginny added, with a wry laugh. "Malcolm, what did the nurse mean when she said that Basil tires more easily these days."
"Ginny, Draco's parent refuse to have anything to do with Basil. He's an embarrassment. Draco only knows how his brother is, by physically coming here. What it means is that some day, soon, Draco is going to come here, and find an empty room."
"That isn't fair," Ginny said, her eyes tearing.
"I'm working on it," Malcolm said, sadly. "I'll let you know what happens."
"And Neville?"
"I don't know any more than you do, and I'd like to keep it that way, for a while."
"They walked in silence for a while, then Malcolm asked, "How did you get to the room? I know you couldn't have followed me that closely."
Ginny smiled and told him, "I was close enough to find the reception station for that section of the hospital, and the nurse recognized me. I even autographed her copy of Wizard Weekly, the one with me and Draco under the mistletoe. She was so happy to find out that we were still together." She looked up and said, "We're almost there. Would you like to meet my grandmother?"
"I better not," Malcolm said, "Draco and I should leave, before your parents do. I don't think they like him."
"You are a master of understatement," Ginny said, and blew him a kiss as she walked away. Malcolm walked back to where Draco was, and they went to the fireplace and back to Malcolm's home.
"This is called Television," Reese explained to Draco.
"I know that," Draco said, "I've been here before. What is that called that they're doing on the television?"
"It's Professional Wrestling," Reese explained.
"It looks fake," Draco said.
"It is," Malcolm said, "They rehearse all these moves, but it looks really good."
"Don't listen to him," Reese told Draco, "this is one of the most challenging sports in America today."
"No, it isn't, Reese," Malcolm answered in an annoyed tone. "They're all a bunch of fakes."
Reese punched Malcolm, and said, "take that back."
Malcolm punched Reese and said, "No, it's all fake. FAKE. FAKE. FAKE."
Reese and Malcolm went for each other and dragged Draco into the fray. Dewey watching from on top of the couch, chose his moment, and jumped in. Francis came in, picked up the remote, and changed the channel. Sitting in the chair with a bowl of popcorn, he paused to watch the scuffle on the floor. Turning off the TV, he turned the chair to better watch the fight.