A/N: This is to answer a couple of questions that reviewers have asked.
Mandraco was curious about Malcolm's third year. I won't be able to write that story properly until the next HP book comes out (which should be June 2003). If that is true you have at least a year to wait.
Harriet asked what Malcolm's surname is. I'm sure she isn't the only one to notice that I have never given his last name. (He does have one, by the way.) It is a running joke in the show, Malcolm in the Middle, that the family name is never mentioned. That is one facet I have been able to include in my stories. Some of the things on the show, such as Bernard rolling along in his egg once in every episode, can't be converted easily into the written form.
Kaylin wanted to know how Francis knew about Crouch, Jr. I must admit that he didn't. He was simply relaying a message. There is something significant
there which will be revealed in Malcolm's third year, unless I change my mind.
"He should be dressed by now," Madam Pomfrey said, as she led Albus Dumbledore into the infirmary. "There he is," she pointed out, "as though nothing had ever happened."
"Thank You, Poppy," Albus said, walking into the room. He was followed by a large floating object covered with a cloth. He settled the object into the corner of the room, and thanked the nurse as she left.
"You are looking well," Dumbledore commented.
"I feel fine," Malcolm said.
[Except for being extremely nervous.]
"Malcolm, would you care to take a simple test for me."
"How simple?"
"I want you to look into a mirror, and tell me, truthfully, what it is you see."
Malcolm nodded his head and said, "Sure. What's the catch?"
"Catch?" Dumbledore queried.
"Yeah, There must be some kind of trick to this mirror. Either that, or I'm having a really bad hair day and I don't know it."
Dumbledore smiled at the thought of bad hair, and replied, "This is a mirror which shows the person who looks into it what their greatest desire is, even if it is impossible for that desire to be achieved." Having said that, he removed the cloth, revealing the ornate mirror. "You can refuse if you wish, Malcolm. This is not something I would force upon you."
"I'll look," Malcolm said, and he stepped up to the mirror. "Oh my God," he said in amazement, as he grinned broadly.
"What do you see?" Albus asked the boy.
"Well, me, but I'm in regular clothes. And so is everyone else. That's Tom and Jeff, they were friends before I became a Krelbourne," Malcolm said as he started pointing people out. "That's Stevie in the wheelchair, right next to Draco. Ginny's over there with Neville, and . . ."
"What is everyone doing, Malcolm? I can't see them."
"They're doing nothing right now, but it looks like all of us took a break from, uh, doing normal things, You know, playing ball, talking about girls, normal stuff." Malcolm turned away from the mirror saying, "that's about it, really."
"I'm curious, Malcolm," Dumbledore said, "You don't seem to be enthralled by what you saw in the mirror. Why is that?"
"It's my mom," Malcolm explained. "I knew what I was seeing wasn't real when I saw her holding up a home made cake and smiling. If Mom ever baked a cake that came out even half that good, she wouldn't be smiling, she'd be doing cartwheels."
Dumbledore chuckled politely and covered the mirror again with the cloth.
"So, why the mirror?" Malcolm asked.
"Curiosity," Dumbledore said, "I thought that if I knew what your greatest desire was, I would understand you better. The truth is, Malcolm, ever since you began attending this school, you have always been a source of puzzlement. The irony is that I was right. I do understand you, now."
"And," Malcolm asked warily.
"It seems that the thing you most desire is to be normal," Dumbledore said with a smile, "a very simple desire. I don't know why I am surprised."
"What's wrong with wanting to be normal?"
"Nothing, to want to be normal is perfectly normal," Albus said. After a pause, he added, "I think I should start explaining things to you, however."
[Finally.]
"I'll try to explain as much as I can," Dumbledore said. "I should, perhaps, start at the beginning. Every year, we have all of the students take the train from Kings Cross Station to Hogwarts. This has a twofold purpose. For the older students, it acts as a period of adjustment, a chance to get used to going to school for another year. That is why the first day is, in essence, a ritual."
"I follow that," Malcolm said, "the trip, then the sorting, then the feast. By the end of the day everyone feels comfortable being back at school."
"Exactly," Dumbledore said, "and the second purpose is to let the new students find their place. The friends that a new student makes, while on the train, often end up in the same house. For example, Potter and Weasley met on the train and both ended up in Gryffindor. It happens too frequently to be a coincidence. And that was how you managed to confuse us, Malcolm. You came to the school having made a highly unlikely pair of friends, Malfoy and Longbottom."
Malcolm started to say something but Albus raised his hand to silence him. "Then the Sorting Hat said it put you in Gryffindor because you would cause less trouble there. Everyone assumed, after the effort you made to come here, that you were destined for Slytherin, or Ravenclaw. We are often wrong in our guesses, but the reasons usually make themselves clear. You were the exception. To be honest, Malcolm, you seemed the least likely Gryffindor in the history of the school."
"I still don't feel like I fit in," Malcolm admitted, "I always feel that people are just being nice to me."
"They are," Dumbledore said, chuckling, "But you see, my boy, we didn't understand. The teachers and I tried several experiments to see how you would react. Professor Snape suggested sending you into Hogsmeade to see what would happen. You ruined our little test by disappearing, although I will admit that turned out well in the end, but that is beside the point."
"Is that why you let Dewey come here all the time?"
"For the most part," Dumbledore admitted, "Your brother also made an unusual friend, but then he and Peeves haven't grown up. You will hate me for saying this, Malcolm, but compared to you, Dewey, for his age, is fairly normal. He simply wants everything his way."
[That is the first time I've heard Dewey called normal.]
"How does Dewey get here?"
"I can't tell you that, Malcolm. I apologize, but I made a promise, long ago."
"And if I ask Peeves, he'll probably laugh at me."
"Interestingly, that is probably all he will do."
"Sir?"
"Malcolm, haven't you noticed that Peeves never harasses you, or anyone who is with you."
"I thought that was because of Dewey."
"It is," Dumbledore admitted. "It seems they have a very strong friendship, which is quite unusual for a Poltergeist."
"They both act the same," Malcolm said, "It's no surprise that they're friends."
"Uhm, Yes," Dumbledore said, as he stared at the young student.
"Can you tell me, Sir, why did you let Dewey take flying lessons?"
"Ah, an easy question," Dumbledore said, "It was Doctor Spencer who suggested it. She thought it might help you to solve your own problem with brooms."
"Did she suggest Gabrielle, too?" Malcolm asked bitterly.
"NO," Albus said harshly, "She would never even have suggested it. Bur since you bring it up, have you tried writing to Gabrielle?"
"She's too busy talking to Jean Paul," Malcolm said, looking down.
"I'm sorry, Malcolm. Affairs of the heart are never easy." Albus said, "But I should get back to the point of this conversation. Why you are here, at Hogwarts."
"Because I'm a wizard," Malcolm answered.
"There are a lot of people who are wizards that never went to Hogwarts, Malcolm. And not everyone who wants to, can come here. You must be a citizen of the United Kingdom, to qualify. We will also accept you if you have a relative who is an alumnus. For example, Seamus Finnigan is Irish, but his mother went to school here. The only other way is by obtaining a grant of permission from the Ministry of Magic."
"I don't understand, Sir," Malcolm said, "Gran, I mean Mrs. Longbottom said she talk to you, or to someone at the school. I thought that was how I got in."
"That is not the case," Albus answered, "Mrs. Longbottom only asked what we would do. It was a relative of yours, who asked if you could be admitted. He was very surprised to find out about you, but he recognized the family resemblance immediately, from the pictures of your family that the ministry sent to us. Prophetically, they warned us to watch out for you."
Albus smiled as Malcolm gave a short laugh. Then Malcolm asked the obvious question.
"Sir, You said I have a relative, at Hogwarts. Is that true? But Professor Binns told the Daily Prophet that I had no relatives living at Hogwarts."
"That was not true," Dumbledore said, "Professor Binns made an appearance when a reporter asked me about your ancestry. Apparently, people were doubting that your parents were squibs. What the Professor said was that you had no living relatives at Hogwarts. You can always trust the Daily Prophet to get things wrong. And please close your mouth, Malcolm. You look like you're trying to catch flies."
[I'm related to Professor Binns?]
"It is an interesting coincidence," Dumbledore said, "that the ministry contacted me while I was meeting with all of the teachers. Otherwise, our History Professor would not have seen your family picture, he would not have made his request, you would have been packed off to that school in the states, and all of our lives would have been different. I, for one, am happy at the turn of events."
"After everything I've done?" Malcolm asked. "Mrs. Norris, running away to London . . ."
"And Australia."
". . . and Australia, and Alabama," Malcolm added with a smile.
"Yes," Dumbledore added, "and that includes that cherry bomb in the toilets, and setting fire to a fellow student, although you overdid it on the water charm when you put him out." Albus sat Malcolm down, and told him, "For all of your antics, you have always tried to put a good face on everything, and you have always tried to be nice to everyone, although not always for a good reason. That was why Voldemort's henchman wanted you. He thought you would want what his master offered."
Albus sighed, then said, "We have difficult times facing us, my boy. The Minister refused to believe Harry Potter, that the Dark Lord had returned. He refused to even see you or Baddock, and claimed that I was trying to force my delusions on him. Fudge refuses to accept the obvious."
"Is Voldemort that powerful?"
"Malcolm, he had your home destroyed within hours of his return. He probably knew, before we did, that your family had already fled. He has many old contacts, who would be happy to share in his glory, and they are answering his call, from every country. Your house was a warning, to ALL of us."
"I didn't picture . . . this isn't what I pictured when I thought about being a wizard. I guess I should have tried to be a better person."
[I don't believe I said that. What's worse, I don't believe I meant that. It's that maturity thing, again.]
Albus grinned at the remark. "Malcolm, I've begun contacting friends, and people I could trust. Thanks to you, I found receptive ears in the American government, although I've been warned that their top people will not take any active part. I have the support, tentatively, of a strong group of wizards in Australia. The ArchChancellor of Unseen University has also told me that, if needs be, we have another place of refuge."
"Wouldn't they have helped us, anyway?"
"They would have," Albus admitted, "but you gave us a personal bond, and we will be stronger allies because of it. The same is true of the Duttons. They would have supported our cause, but now they want to be active in it. They feel personally involved. I only wanted to say thank you, Malcolm, for being who you are."
Dumbledore reached down and picked up an unopened letter, "Is this yours?"
"Yeah, and I know who sent it," Malcolm said, "Pretty soon, Camilla's going to be demanding a date" He added sarcastically, "That's going to be wonderful."
"Perhaps it will, Malcolm," Albus counseled, "Please approach the situation with an open mind. You are always at your best when you do so."
"Yes, Sir," Malcolm said sullenly.
"A much better attitude," Albus said, as he turned to go. "By the way, your family, except for Francis, will be here shortly. I suggested they pay you a visit while their new house is being put in order. I thought you would appreciate it."
Thank you, Sir," Malcolm lied.
[I was really looking forward to seeing them in two days, not today.]
One minute later, the infirmary was empty, except for a light breeze from an open window.
*
"So where is he?" Reese said as he walked into the infirmary and looked around.
"I don't understand," Madame Pomfrey said, "Professor Dumbledore told him you were coming."
"I understand," Lois said, "Professor Dumbledore told him we were coming."
"I hate this place," Dewey said.
"But son," Hal said, "You loved coming here all those times."
"I didn't have to watch him (pointing at Nob) all those times."
"Malcolm, don't talk that way about your brother," Lois said.
"Mooom, I'm Dewey. And Nob is only a foster kid."
"Isn't that cute, Honey," Hal said, "Dewey and Nob are bonding. DEWEY, GET BACK HERE."
Lois shook her head, and said, "Reese get away from there. Don't touch that."
As he pulled the cloth off the mirror, accidently, Reese looked in the Mirror, and shouted, "I kicked major butt."
"What are you talking about?" Lois said, suddenly.
"It's the Mirror of Erised," Madame Pomfrey warned, "It shows your greatest desire."
"Is this true?" Reese asked. "Will this really happen?"
"No. The mirror does not show truth." Madame Pomfrey said, "It only shows what you want."
"Figures," Reese said as he walked away from the mirror, "They won't allow automatic weapons in wrestling, anyhow."
"I've got to see this," Lois said, and walked up to the mirror before she could be stopped. "That is amazing," she said, "I wish I could get a picture of this." Lois turned to Madame Pomfrey and asked, "Are you sure this can't happen?"
"I don't know what you are seeing," Madame Pomfrey admitted, "but it is likely that it will never happen."
"Could I just keep the mirror, then?" Lois said.
"I'm sorry I did not meet you at the entrance, I was sidetracked," Albus Dumbledore said, as he walked into the infirmary with Dewey and Hal. "As to the mirror," he said to Lois, "I am afraid it is not for sale."
"It's a nice looking mirror though," Hal said, walking up to it, as everyone watched with curiosity. Hal looked into the mirror, and pulled out his handkerchief, wiping his mouth. "Honey, why didn't you tell me I had Mustard on my lip. How long has that been there?"
"You didn't see anything?" Lois asked in surprise.
"I saw that glob of mustard on my lower lip," Hal said in annoyance. "It was big enough. Someone could have pointed it out."
"I mean, you didn't see yourself as President or something?" Lois asked.
"Of course not, Honey. It's only a mirror."
"No, it isn't, Hal," Lois exclaimed, "It's a mirror that shows what you desire most."
"Excuse me," Albus interrupted, "I should mention about the mirror, It is said that the truly happy man will look in the mirror and see only his true reflection."
"You see," Hal told Lois, "that explains it."
"But Hal, how can you be happy. One of our children is missing, another one was almost killed, our house was destroyed, we may never . . . "
Hal's fingers on Lois's lip kept her from finishing, "Francis can take care of himself, Malcolm is fine, and we're getting a new home. But none of that matters, because I have you. And I know that as long as you and I are together, everything will work out."
"You're happy because you have me?" Lois asked incredulously.
"How could I be unhappy, if I have you?"
"Oh, Hal," Lois said, and they fell into a passionate kiss.
"I'm going to find Malcolm," Dewey said quickly, and headed for the door.
"I'll help you," Reese said as he quickly followed.
Lois broke off from her kiss, and said, "take Nob with you." She paused and looked at the Headmaster and the Nurse. "Don't you two have anything better to do?"
"Come Poppy," Albus said, "I think we can find something to do by the lake."
"They have a lake," Hal murmured.
"Later," Lois said, as the door closed behind them.
*
"Madam Pomfrey," the second year cried as he hobbled into the infirmary, "I broke my leg." His eyes focused on the two figures in the room. "It can wait," he said, and hobbled back out.
*
"Nob will be safe here," Dobby said.
"Thank you," Nob said gratefully, "Dewey always tries to leave me behind."
"I heard Dewey's name," a voice in the back said, "Did he come with you, Dobby?"
"Friend Malcolm," Dobby said, "Dobby found Nob and brought him here."
Dobby grabbed the younger elf, and dragged him to where Malcolm was hiding. Malcolm looked down at the little fellow wearing a blue T-shirt with colored stripes, and Thomas the Tank Engine overalls. Nob looked up in awe when he saw Malcolm, then jumped at him, crushing his knee in an effort to hug him.
"I wanted to see you, Malcolm," Nob said, "You know everything."
"I do?" Malcolm asked as he tried to pry the elf of his leg.
"Whenever I ask Dewey about something, he says if you were here you could tell me what to do."
"Dewey says that?"
"Yes, Dewey says you are a wonderful brother."
"Oh, Yeah. I am," Malcolm stuttered.
[I don't know how to handle this. I wish Francis were here. He could tell me what to do.]
"Malcolm," Nob asked, "is a foster brother like a real brother? Mommy says yes, but Dewey says she's saying that to be nice."
[Foster Brother? Did he just say Mommy?]
"Uh. Well. Er," Malcolm said informatively.
"Friend Malcolm," Dobby said in awe, "Is Nob your brother?"
Malcolm looked up to see dozens of house elves had stopped working, and were watching him. "Well," he said, trying not to be nervous, "he's only my foster brother. That mean that my parents take care of him. He won't be my real brother until he's adopted." Malcolm paused, then corrected himself quickly. "Unless. Unless he's adopted."
"Is Malcolm going to adopt Nob?" one of the elves asked.
"It's not my decision," Malcolm said, "that would be up to my parents."
"What will happen to Nob?" another elf asked.
"He'll go to school, I guess," Malcolm said, shrugging his shoulders.
[Uh-oh.]
Murmurs of 'school' went through the crowd of elves. Then Dobby said, "Friend Malcolm, house elves do not go to schools, unless they work in them."
[He's going to school all right. Mom will make sure of it. That's her free time.]
"Wait until September, " Malcolm told Dobby. He then turned to Nob and said, "You've only got two months of freedom left. You better make the most of them."
"I am going to school?" Nob asked in surprise. Malcolm nodded then screamed in pain as Nob cut off all circulation to his leg.
"Friend Malcolm!" Dobby said, with as much respect as he could muster.
*
"I apologize for what happened earlier," Lois said, as she and Hal were escorted to the teachers table.
"There is no need," Dumbledore said, "The boy only had a sprain, he was taken care of in minutes."
"He looked so frightened when I saw him standing there," Lois said.
"I have no idea why?" Albus deadpanned, "but I do thank you for joining us for dinner. Most of the students know what happened, and it will do them good to see that you are all well."
"I thought this was lunch?" Hal said.
"It's an English thing," Albus explained, "we do it to confuse the tourists."
"It works for me," Hal said, "but where is Malcolm?"
"There he is," Lois said, as Malcolm walked into the Great Hall with Nob in tow. She smiled and said, "Look, Hal. They get along so well together." Then she yelled, "DON'T YOU DARE DITCH HIM LIKE THAT, MALCOLM. HE'S YOUR BROTHER AND YOU WILL TREAT HIM LIKE ONE."
The food appeared on the table, and Lois looked down at her plate. " Is that Lobster tail?"
"And Filet Mignons," Hal said appreciatively, "and look, the spring vegetables have that honey mustard sauce we both love."
Lois noticed the other plates were empty and asked, "Why don't you have food on your plates?"
"I think it's because Malcolm payed a visit to the kitchens after I told him you were coming," Dumbledore explained. "They obviously prepared special meals for you."
"How sweet," Lois said, "I'll wait until Malcolm gets home before I punish him for running off."
*
"Here comes Malcolm," Dewey said, and a small group of Gryffindors turned to watch him enter the Great Hall.
"Why is he sitting Nob at the Hufflepuff table?" Hermione asked. After Lois finished yelling, Hermione asked, "is Nob really your brother?"
Dewey nodded glumly as Malcolm sat down, putting Nob between the two boys.
"Are you happy to be here, Nob?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," Nob said cheerfully, "today is Thursday." Then all three boys smiled.
Ginny laughed at Hermione's confused look and explained, "Every Thursday, Malcolm's mom takes all the leftovers and makes Six Layer Casserole."
"Last week, it had seven layers," Nob said sullenly.
Hermione stared in the air as she comprehended what she had just been told. "Thank you, Nob," she said, "now I'm no longer hungry."
Harry and Ron came in at the last minute and sat down next to Hermione. Then the food appeared on the table, and Ron pointed at Dewey's plate, and asked, "Is that a cheeseburger?"
"Yeah," Dewey said, happily, "but what's this round stuff?"
"Canadian Bacon," Malcolm explained, "In this country that's what you get when you ask for bacon. I should have asked them for rashers."
"Cool," Dewey said and began eating.
Ron gave him a dirty look and said, "I would have loved a Bacon Cheeseburger."
"You can have mine," Malcolm offered, "I'm in the mood for chicken, anyway."
[I love the look on his face when I do something nice for him.]
Malcolm looked around and asked, "Where's Reese?"
"I don't know," Dewey said happily.
*
"I have a credit card," Reese said.
"Is it yours?" the clerk at the counter of Zonko's Joke Shop asked.
"It's my dad's, but I have his permission."
"Is it in writing?"
"I've got Twenty bucks," Reese exclaimed. "If you want to make the sale, it's either charge or cash."
"I'm sorry," the clerk said impatiently, "we do not take foreign currency."
"Look, lady, I've had my house blown up, I'm living in somebody's attic, and the only clothes I've got are the one's I'm wearing. Can't I have a little fun?"
"Oh, your one of the . . . " the clerk said suddenly, "I'll talk to the manager."
She returned a few minutes later, and said, "I have the manager's permission, and the current exchange rate." She rang up the sale and gave him his change of four sickles and seven knuts.
"Thanks, lady," Reese said happily, "and what are those things? They look like rubber spiders but they're moving."
"Those are tickle spiders," the clerk explained. "They crawl into someone's armpit, and proceed to tickle the victim. They're 11 knuts each."
"I'll take two."