"Good Morning, Malcolm," Madam Pomfrey said softly. "Are you hungry?"
"Thirsty," Malcolm said hoarsely, as he struggled to open his eyes. He felt himself being propped up in a sitting position, with plenty of pillows to keep him there.
"Orange juice," Pomfrey told him as she raised the glass to his lips, "drink it slowly."
Malcolm swallowed half the glass and spilled the rest, but he felt better. After a second glass, most of which made it to his mouth, Madam Pomfrey asked how he felt.
"Weak, mostly, and tired," he explained, "and it feels like my chest is on fire."
Madam Pomfrey gave him an elixir for the pain in his chest, then laid him down again. He was asleep in moments.
*
It was nighttime when Malcolm awoke. The first thing he noted was that the pajamas he was wearing were clean.
Molly Weasley was there, and she helped him into a sitting position again. She then forced him to have some broth, and as much juice as he could hold.
"Thank you," he said, when he was done.
"You're welcome," Molly said, "you can go back to sleep now."
"I'm not really tired," Malcolm said, "not enough to sleep, anyway."
"And you would like to here the gossip?" Molly asked, smiling.
"Yes, Please," Malcolm said, giving a weak smile of his own.
"Right," Molly said, "to start off, your family is fine. They're staying at my house until they can find a new place."
"What happened to our old one?"
"It seems that You-Know-Who didn't like the way you left him, and sent some friends to visit your folks, but they were already gone. At least that is what I think happened."
Malcolm nodded but he was slightly confused. "How did you know about that?"
"Malcolm Baddock told us how he led you into that trap," Molly said. Before Malcolm could react, she added, strongly, "Don't you go thinking badly about him. You're immune to the Imperious Curse, aren't you?"
"Yes," Malcolm admitted.
"Malcolm Baddock isn't," Molly said, and waited for Malcolm to understand. "As soon as he found himself free of the curse, he told us everything he could remember. He's worried about what you may think of him."
"Tell him I said thanks," Malcolm said. "Mrs. Weasley, could I ask you a favor, but it's not a nice one."
"Go ahead," Molly said, tonelessly.
"Could you tell him I said he should have been put in Gryffindor?"
"I will, I will," Molly said laughing, "I know it will make him feel better."
"Thanks again," Malcolm said, and rested his eyes for a minute.
*
The sun was out when Malcolm opened his eyes again. Albus Dumbledore was sitting by his bed, as though he was waiting for this moment.
"Madam Pomfrey will have some breakfast for you, shortly," the Headmaster told him. "You look much better than the last time I saw you."
"I think I feel better, too," Malcolm said, "at least I don't hurt as much."
[I know what's coming. He's going to ask me if I feel strong enough to talk, then he's going to ask me to tell him what happened.]
Madam Pomfrey brought Malcolm a tray, and placed it before him. Dumbledore waited patiently while Malcolm ate, then brought up the reason for his being there.
"I received your letter, Malcolm. I also appreciate the fact that you thought of me. Do you feel strong enough to talk?"
[Am I a genius or what?]
"I guess," Malcolm said with a smile.
Dumbledore returned the smile, and asked, "Do I need to ask the next question?"
"Did you know that Voldemort is a movie buff?"
Albus snorted at Malcolm's reply. "You are the most incorrigible boy I have ever met, Malcolm, and I do mean that in a good way."
"There is a good way to mean that?"
"Perhaps not," Dumbledore admitted, "but I am curious as to what happened to you after you were kidnaped, and why you were taken?"
"I'm guessing that you know about Voldemort having a body, again," Malcolm said. Dumbledore nodded, and Malcolm continued to talk.
"I was stunned by a spell before I was taken, and I woke up blindfolded with my hands tied. I think they revived me because Lucius Malfoy untied me, and apologized for what had happened."
"Are you sure it was Malfoy, Malcolm?" Dumbledore asked.
"He lifted his mask to show me his face. I think he wanted to make me feel better."
"Did it?"
"No, but it stopped me from freaking out. We were standing in a cemetery, but it looked like the middle of a war zone. Smoke in the air, a couple of small fires, tombstones looking as thought they'd been shot at." Malcolm looked at Dumbledore seriously and said, "You wanted to know why they took me? I think it was an afterthought. My guess was that everything was planned for someone else. And I'm also guessing that someone else was Potter."
"Voldemort used Potter's blood as part of the spell that restored him," Dumbledore said, grimly.
"Is Potter . . . "
"He's fine, Malcolm. He also managed to escape." Dumbledore studied the boy's face, then almost casually asked, "What did you mean when you said you were an afterthought?"
"It seems I went from Icing on the Cake to Consolation Prize," Malcolm quipped. "Someone thought that I should be there, as an extra treat. You know, the Dark Lord is restored to power, defeats his enemy, then greats the first of a new generation of . . . disciples. Professor, the idea was that Voldemort would start his own school. Malfoy probably told him I would be a perfect student."
"Grandiose plans for a newly restored demon," Dumbledore noted. "You are right, Malcolm. Voldemort was not overly concerned with you. But from what you are saying, I get the impression that he was not very upset that Harry Potter had escaped him."
"He seemed annoyed," Malcolm admitted, "but he wasn't distraught or anything. I didn't get the impression that he was angry about anything in particular."
Dumbledore smiled, and said conspiratorially, "I do like to see overconfidence in an adversary. It means he will make mistakes."
Albus stood up as Madam Pomfrey took away the empty tray. "Thank you for you time, Malcolm. I will want to talk to you later. You deserve to know, more fully, what happened that night, but you should know that your family is fine."
"Mrs. Weasley told me they were all at her place," Malcolm said, "but I meant to ask why Francis was there. I thought he would have disappeared instead. He told me that was what he was planning."
Madam Pomfrey almost dropped the tray right in Malcolm's lap. "He knew, Albus," she said in surprise and anger. "That boy knew all along."
Albus chuckled at the nurse's reaction. "There is always more to Malcolm than meets the eye, Poppy. I would be willing to bet Malcolm even knows where his missing brother is."
"I'm sorry, but I don't," Malcolm lied.
[That's not a complete lie. He told me where he was planning on going, but he's probably not there yet. Hey, that means I told the truth.]
"Professor," Malcolm called out as Dumbledore was leaving, "I was curious, who won the Tournament?"
"It was a tie," Dumbledore said as his smile disappeared.
Malcolm didn't dare ask another question.
*
"Are you ready?" Madame Pomfrey asked.
"For what?" Malcolm asked.
"The visitors are lining up," she said.
"How many are there?"
"Only one," Madam Pomfrey said with a mirthful grin, "but I do expect more, Once the word gets around. I have to ask you, however, if you want to see this particular visitor."
Malcolm looked over to the doorway and saw Draco Malfoy, standing there. Draco was pale, and very nervous.
"Hello, Draco," Malcolm said, reluctantly, and Draco walked quickly to the bed.
"I know what happened," Draco said softly. "Father was furious, when you refused the offer. It didn't help that I didn't want to go to a new school, either." He paused for a breath, then asked, "I have to know, are WE still friends, at least for now? I doubt that we can be for much longer anyway."
"At least for now," Malcolm said warily.
"Thank you," Draco said, and sat down on the bed. "I brought you something," he whispered, and held out a small wooden block, purple and red, covered with W's and wands.
Malcolm laughed as he reached for the block. Draco grabbed Malcolm in a bear hug, almost crushing, and told him, "I was afraid I would lose you. I don't ever want to lose you." Draco released him, and added, putting his hand on the block, "We're more than friends, we're brothers."
Malcolm looked at the block in his hand, and then at Draco's careworn face. "That's what they told me at Saint Mungo's, Draco SMYTHE."
The two boys laughed softly, then Draco got up to go. "I promised them I wouldn't stay long. I'll try to see you again, soon."
Malcolm watched as Draco left, and fingered the building block. He looked over to Madam Pomfrey, and she tried to smile. "I've just lost my best friend," he told her.
"You haven't lost him yet," Madam Pomfrey said.
"He won't go against his father," Malcolm said, "regardless of how he feels about me. The only reason Draco came, was to say goodbye."
*
Ginny and Neville stopped by to say hello, a short while after Draco left, but Malcolm was not in the mood to talk. They did not stay long. EJ came by with Amber Dowling (they always seemed to be together these days) but they did not stay long either. Dumbledore also stopped by, and talked with Madam Pomfrey, but he left without saying anything to Malcolm. It was shortly after he had eaten his lunch that Malcolm had an unexpected guest.
"I'm supposed to cheer you up," Harry Potter said, "but I'm not sure how to do that."
"You could say something bad about Weasley," Malcolm said in a cheap attempt at humor.
"He doesn't like your best friend," Harry said, "but then, no one does, except you."
"Then Ron should be happy. I don't have my best friend anymore. His father's mad at me."
"It had to happen," Harry told him, "If it helps you any, I am sorry to hear that." Potter held out his hand, and Malcolm looked at it, but did not take it.
"Please," Harry said, "we could be friends."
"It isn't you," Malcolm said, "I'm not in the mood to make any friends today."
"Sorry," Harry said as he put his hand down. "It is funny to think about now, but Malfoy once offered his hand to me, on the train. I was coming to Hogwarts for the first time. I refused to shake his hand."
"The same thing happened to me," Malcolm said, looking down, "and I took it."
"I've always wondered what would have happened if I did take his hand that day," Harry said, sympathetically.
"No, you don't," Malcolm said, a little too harshly, "but I can tell you what would have happened. Today, he would have walked up to YOU and said goodbye."
"I should go," Harry said, after a nervous silence.
"I'm sorry," Malcolm said, "Ask Dumbledore not to send anyone else to cheer me up."
"Dumbledore didn't ask me to come. Neville did."
"Neville?"
"He told me you needed someone to talk to, and I would be . . . "
"What is it?" Malcolm asked, when Harry suddenly stopped talking.
"I've been tricked," Harry said, "Everyone has been trying to talk to me, but . . . " Harry looked at Malcolm, his eyes moist, and said, "I lost a friend too. We weren't close, but we had each other's respect."
"What happened?" Malcolm asked, concerned.
"You don't know?" Harry asked in surprise. "You really don't know what happened at the Tournament?"
Malcolm shook his head. "I wasn't there, and I've been sleeping most of the time since I got back."
The two sat and talked comparing notes on what had happened. Harry smiled briefly when Malcolm mentioned the Three Stooges, but Malcolm received the brunt of the surprises.
[This guy is amazing. Think about it. He stayed and fought. All I did was think of a clever plan to run away.]
"Malcolm," Harry said, quietly, "I know why you didn't accept the offer of a new school. Lucius Malfoy was right when he said you had it in you, but he was wrong because you have more than that in you."
"Harry, it's because of lines like that, that everyone thinks you're a hero."
"A hero?" Harry said in surprise, "after what happened? What about the fact that Cedric is dead?"
"That's part of the problem, Harry. Everyone knows you would have saved him if you could."
Harry pondered the thought, then asked, "Malcolm, if I'm a HERO, then why doesn't everyone like me?"
Malcolm snorted, and answered, "You know the answer to that. There are always people who don't like heroes, and they're not all villains, either. Some of them are just people who wish they were the hero."
Malcolm leaned forward, his expression earnest. "Potter, things are going to change because of you, and you cannot do anything about it. Things will change. You can run and hide, you can fight until your last breathe, or you can stand aside and do nothing. Things will still change. But you should remember this, Harry, what you do will affect the way things change. That's what it means to be a hero." Malcolm smiled and added, "I'm very glad that you have that job, and not me."
Harry stared at Malcolm. "For a moment there, I would have sworn I was talking to Dumbledore."
[NO. I don't want to hear about that maturity stuff again.]
"I assume you meant that as a compliment," Malcolm said.
"I'm not sure," Harry said, and they both laughed.
*
"I am glad to see that you are feeling better," Severus Snape said, as he walked into the infirmary. He sat down in the vacant chair, and told Malcolm, "If you feel up to it, I would like to ask you a few questions."
"Of course, Professor. I'll be happy to answer anything I can."
"Thank you, Malcolm. If you could tell me, what are the three main uses of Asphodel?"
"Excuse me, Sir," Malcolm said in confusion, "Why are you asking me that?"
"It seems that with all of your trips here and there, you missed taking your Potions final. I came here to correct that." Severus Snape smiled, and repeated the question.