A/N Thanks to everyone who has read this so far, and especially thanks to the reviewers. To answer Mandraco's question, Tonks will be involved to a degree and Sirius Black will make an appearance later on in the story. And to VMorticia I should note that I don't think Reese has any logic. Also a note to Grizabella. I think you meant to type summer instead of winter. As far as Lloyd is concerned, he is a Krelboyne, which means a lack of social skills.
After reading the reviews I made it a point to add a section about Krelboynes to the introduction to make them more easily understood by the casual reader.
CHAPTER THREE: MEETING OF THE MINDS
"It's easy, Fred," Malcolm explained. "I can show you how to do this in a minute."
"Is this a real American dance?" George asked. "You know you have a tendency to exaggerate."
"It is a real dance," Malcolm assured the twins. "More people in the United States know this dance than know the Twist."
"And the Twist is?"
"Another time," Malcolm explained. "Is everybody ready?"
Ron sat down. "I refuse to take part in any of his antics.
"The rest of us are ready," Molly Weasley said.
"Ok," Malcolm said as he looked around the room. "Everybody, put your left foot in."
"Do we Hokey Pokey now?" Ginny asked.
"That happens after we shake it all about," Malcolm explained. "I'll tell you when."
*
"Thank you so much," Lois told the government agent. "You don't know how much this means to me."
"It is my pleasure, Madam," the government agent replied. "We were informed through channels of your position in the witness protection program. All of us are happy to help." He escorted her into a closed room. "You will have complete privacy here for your conversation. The phone line is untraceable, and completely secure. When the phone rings, pick it up and your parents will be on the other end."
The agent left the room, closing the door behind him. Lois sat down, amazed at how comfortable the chair was. Then the phone rang.
"Hello, who is this," yelled a craggy voice from the other end.
"Mom, It's Lois."
"And what do you want, so fancy schmantzy you have to have someone else call me. You can't even dial the number yourself."
"Mom, I only wanted to let you know that I was fine." Lois was fuming. "I thought you would have heard about the house blowing up."
"I heard, I heard. I can only be thankful it was your house and not your sister's. Where would I go then when I take a vacation."
"Well, I'm glad I could be of help," Lois said angrily.
"What are you getting so worked up about. You know I never cared for you anyway. I admit, if your sister wasn't so perfect . . . but there you are. Fine, you told me. What do you want me to do about it?"
"How about showing some humanity," Lois yelled. "After all, this may be the last time we ever get to talk."
"When do we every talk? I don't remember ever having a conversation with you. I'm too busy telling you how to live your life, you and those worthless kids you have."
Lois took several deep breaths, then began to speak as calmly as she could. "It was good talking to you, Mom. Do you mind if I talk to my father, now?"
"He's not here. Not that it matters."
"What do you mean? Of course it matters."
"Why? You said this was the last time we were going to talk. Then you should know. He's not your father. Your sister, he's her father. But not you."
Lois stood up, stunned. "What do you mean?"
"Do I have to spell it out? I had an affair. I cheated on my husband. And I had a fun time doing it too."
"And you don't mind telling me this."
"Who are you going to tell? You're never going to be calling here anymore."
"Who is he?" Lois asked in a voice of stone.
"Who is he? How should I know? He was some magician doing the local carnival. You know the type. Sleeves full of handkerchiefs. Hat full of rabbits. Wife in the next town. A regular freeloader. But he was lots of fun. He gave me one of the rabbits. It was stringy. Not much meat on it. But it was a free meal."
"You don't even know his name?"
"What's to know? We had fun. Then one day he says his wife had a kid. He's leaving me because he has a daughter of his own to raise. I asked him why. That didn't stop me. Anyway, he left and I found out about you two weeks later. Go figure."
Lois held the phone to her ear for two full minutes before she realized the connection was broken. She sat the phone down and dropped into the chair.
"Lois?" A voice said, finally breaking the silence. Hal motioned everyone to wait as he entered the room alone.
"Lois? Honey? What happened?"
Lois threw her arms around Hal and began to cry. "I'm useless."
"No you're not," Hal insisted, then said with surprising force, "It's your mother that's useless. I told you not to bother calling her. She's too lazy to appreciate what she has in you, a wonderful wife, a loving mother, and . . . all those other great things about you."
Lois dried her eyes. "Really, Hal."
"You'll never be useless to me. I need you so much."
Lois looked Hal in the eyes. "Not here."
"I can lock the door."
"Do it."
*
A few days later Malcolm was sitting on the beach watching a five year old boy run at the waves and run back again. The boy was caught by a wave and laughed as it knocked him over. He picked himself up and started running again. Finally Malcolm called him away, and the boy sullenly retreated from the water.
"Who is that?" Draco asked as he walked up. "I thought I heard you call out 'Nob'."
"That is Nob," Malcolm said. "Nob, do you remember Draco."
"Yeah," Nob said happily, "Ron says you're the worst thing since . . ."
"Draco doesn't want to hear that," Malcolm said hastily.
"That's all right," Draco said. "Nob, remind me to tell you what I say about the Weasel."
"OK."
Draco turned to Malcolm. "What happened? Last week he was a house elf."
Malcolm shrugged. "Everybody kept complaining about the fact that he was an elf. The local school board, the protective service people, everybody. Anyway, Sunday we were showing him our old photos. I showed him a picture and told him that was me at his age. Then Nob went poof and appeared as five year old me."
"Does he change into you all the time?"
"Just the once, and he stayed that way. I don't think he knows how to change back. I don't think he wants to, either."
Draco laughed. "Malcolm, you have the strangest problems."
"Malcolm's going to America," Nob said as he forced himself between the two and grabbed their hands, "and he's going to buy me an ice cream."
"Won't that spoil your dinner?" Draco asked.
"Naw, I'll just eat less," Nob replied happily.
"When are you going?" Draco asked.
"I'm leaving in about five hours. Mr. Weasley's arranging a portkey. I'll only be gone less than an hour."
As Malcolm spoke, he saw Arthur Weasley running to meet them. "Malcolm, I'm glad I found you. I forgot about the time zones you muggles have. You have to be there in an hour." Then he noticed Draco. "YOU!"
"Watch it." Draco warned. "I'm having a friendly conversation with a schoolmate. That's all."
"But that will ruin the plan," Nob said.
"Quiet, Nob," Arthur Weasley insisted.
"Yes, don't shout," Draco said. "What plan?"
"It's great," Nob giggled. "Malcolm is going to run away and we're going to have somebody take his place, just to see if anyone notices."
Draco smiled malevolently. "You didn't tell your mom? Malcolm, why is Weasley involved?"
"I accidently took a wizards oath. I have to go."
Draco's malevolent look died in laughter. "You would do that by accident. You said it would take less than an hour? I'll cover for you."
"And we should trust you," Arthur said, angry that his plan was accidentally revealed.
"You can't," Draco said angrily, "but Malcolm can. Our friendship is on shaky grounds but it isn't ended yet." He looked at Malcolm and raised his right hand. "I solemnly swear as a wizard of power that I will situate myself as Malcolm for as long as necessary so that he may safely discharge his obligations. I also swear that I will keep this secret from anyone who does not know, that he may not come to danger because of me."
Arthur Weasley stood by in amazement as he felt the force of a wizards oath. "I am surprised. I never thought of a Malfoy having any honor."
"I already told you. I'm doing this for Malcolm. I owe him. I owe your family nothing. I'll need a hair, Malcolm."
"What for?"
"Polyjuice Potion. I brought some just in case, but your magic trick is working wonders."
"What magic trick?" Arthur Weasley dared to ask.
"It's called a fake ID," Malcolm explained. "I'll show you when we get back."
"I won't be going," Arthur said as he ushered the three boys through the phantom hedge.
"I will be your escort," Albus Dumbledore said.
Malcolm stared at what he saw. Before him stood a well healed gentleman in a three piece suit, hair modestly short and a well trimmed beard. "You look good."
"A simple spell," Albus said. "I will grow my hair back when we are done with our little adventure. And you are to be our victim, Mr. Malfoy?"
"He took a wizards oath, Albus," Arthur noted.
"I felt it, Arthur. And I am not surprised. These two have always had a strong friendship."
"And what do I do?" Draco asked.
"You have to teach me to fly a broom," Nob said.
"Mom said you're not allowed on a broom," Malcolm reminded him.
"Oh, yeah, and you can't let Mom find out about it," Nob amended.
Draco smiled. "He really is a member of your family, Malcolm." Draco plucked a few hairs from Malcolm's head, and put them in a prepared flask that he 'just happened to have on him'. He drank a mouthful and cringed in pain. When he straightened up, Malcolm was gone and he was Malcolm.
"This way," Nob yelled as he dragged Draco toward the Burrow. Draco looked around in fear and noticed the smirking look on Arthur Weasley's face.
"Nob, this isn't your house."
"No, but Fred and George said we could borrow their brooms."
Draco consoled himself that it would only be for one hour.
*
Malcolm watched the beginning of Draco's transformation but was ushered away by Dumbledore.
"I have a portkey, Malcolm. It will take us directly to the competition. Are there any questions?"
"Hi, Malcolm," A new voice said. "Your mom said you might be back here."
"Dennis? I was just leaving. I'll be back in an hour."
"I got here early. I took the knight bus. Where are you going? And who's the old man?"
"Mr. Creevey!"
Dennis jumped. "I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't recognize you."
"Quite all right, Dennis. Why don't you join us? You can watch Malcolm showing off to everyone about how intelligent he is."
"Cool," Dennis said as he reached out for the portkey.
*
"Malcolm, you made it," Dabney shouted. "Hey everybody, it's Malcolm."
Malcolm cringed as a record number of Krelboynes cheered for him. Cynthia, who had a crush on him came up to him and smiled, proving that she still had the crush.
"Hi, Malcolm."
"Hi Cynthia," Malcolm said, staring at her, "You're, um, bigger than I remember."
"So are you. Thanks for coming."
"You're welcome."
[That can't be Cynthia. She looks great. She doesn't even look like a Krelboyne anymore.]
"You made it," Lloyd said excitedly.
"I'm sorry I'm late," Malcolm said. "Time zones and all that."
"You're . . . lucky," Stevie said as he rolled up to greet his friend. "The Math . . . Group . . . is listed . . . last, and . . ."
"And I'm sorry Stevie but if I wait for you to explain, I'll miss it."
"Under . . . stood," Stevie said and nodded to a man who was obviously a teacher.
"So, you're Malcolm, the great brain."
"So who are you?"
"Lionel Herkabe. I teach the Krelboyne class, and I know exactly how smart my students are. You can get away with that crazy garbage overseas but not with me."
[What a jerk.]
"What happened to Miss Miller?"
"Teaching wasn't good enough for her. She chickened out and chose to be a mother."
Dabney interrupted. "Mr. Herkabe used to be a Krelboyne. Isn't he great."
Malcolm stared at Lionel Herkabe. "I didn't come all this way just to talk to a . . ."
"Malcolm!" Albus Dumbledore interrupted, then said politely, "It was a long flight."
Lionel Herkabe sneered in his effort to intimidate. "Did you take a plane, or did you use brooms?"
"I don't use a broom anymore," Malcolm said cheerfully as he began waving his arms up and down, "all I do is flap my wings. But I don't fly very well. Not with the new medication."
[I love it when their eyes glaze like that.]
Mr. Herkabe took a step back. "He can still do numbers?"
"I checked," Lloyd offered. "He can, but he doesn't always see them as numbers, if you know what I mean."
Lionel and Malcolm gave Lloyd a confused look.
"It doesn't matter," Herkabe said in resignation.. "The most he can get is thirty points, and we're thirty-seven points out of first place."
"This is so cool, Malcolm," Dabney offered.
"Where do I go?" Malcolm demanded.
"Through there," Dabney said, pointing at the door.
Herkabe glared at Dennis Creevey. "And who are you?"
Dennis smiled. "I'm here to make sure that Malcolm takes his medication."
[Remind me to ask why I invited Dennis to visit me.]
"It isn't very crowded," Albus noted as he followed Malcolm through the door.
"These guys give nerds a bad name. No one is here who doesn't have to be. This whole thing is so phony."
"Is it?"
"Of course it is. Nobody cares about who's the smartest kid around unless he's also charming, modest, and rich, and even then you're stretching it."
"It means something to those who participate," Dumbledore pointed out. "It means something to your friends that you are here."
[Great. Now I feel bad about not wanting to do this.]
"It doesn't matter," Malcolm muttered. "It's like that guy said. We're going to lose anyway."
"Then lose with pride," Albus said with a friendly smile.
"And curse the winners," Dennis added.
"You're right," Malcolm answered and took his place at the table with the other competitors. When he looked up, he saw Dabney and Lloyd and gave them his best smile.
*
"You're . . . English?"
"Dennis Creevey. I'm a schoolmate of Malcolm's. We're in the same house. Are you Stevie?"
"Malcolm . . . told you . . . about . . . me?"
"He mentioned you. Ginny Weasley was the one who actually told me. She described you as Malcolm with a conscience. I suppose that is a good thing. She didn't mention the wheelchair."
Stevie looked around quickly, then raised the wheelchair three inches. Dennis grinned as Stevie lowered himself back to the ground.
"I . . . find it . . . useful."
*
"May I have your attention," the moderator said. "This is the final round of our Academic competition. This round consists of twenty question in advanced mathematics. Each correct answer earns that school one point. At the end of the round, the school with the most points receives ten additional points. If there is a tie, there is a three question sudden death round. The first school to answer two questions is the winner. If more than two schools are tied, then only those schools whose students answered one of the first two sudden death questions may answer the third question. Let the contest begin. Mister Belleau will read the questions."
The lady who was moderating sat down. Next to her, Mr. Belleau opened his notebook. "Our first question," he said. "Which number equaling A cubed times B is the reverse integral of the multiples of A and B . . . Yes, Malcolm."
"You're joking, right? It's the multiple of A and B, multiplied by 2A plus B. The answer is 24."
"That is correct," Belleau said. "The Krelboynes get one point. Our next question is . . . yes, Malcolm."
The next question is what is the most common cosine which equals the sine. The answer is One."
"That is also correct," Belleau said.
"That isn't all," Malcolm said as he stood up. The next eighteen answers are: 5.368; 21; 1, 5 and 9; 18; AX squared time BX when X is an imaginary number; Zero; .37989; 8; Base Two; an arc of 86 degrees; 12; 3; 1; 1; Plank's Constant; 6.3; 4; and Zero." He took a deep breath. "The three sudden death answers are: 2, 3 and 5; the tangent; and 13. Am I right."
"You are correct," Mr. Belleau said with a straight face.
"All you did," Malcolm complained, "was take the first twenty three questions from the College Advanced Placement Test for 1992. Everybody has been using them to practice with for years. They gave it to me to see if I could be a Krelboyne."
[If I had know that, I would have failed the thing.]
"And don't tell me I was the only one to notice," Malcolm said. Looking around, he realized that he was the only one to notice.
"I told you," the moderator whispered to Mr. Belleau. "There's one in every bunch. Now our gooses are cooked."
"I can handle it," Mr. Belleau whispered. Standing up, he announced, "the student from the Krelboyne class has successfully answered all twenty three questions for a total of twenty three points, plus ten points for having the highest score, plus a bonus of five points for successfully naming the source of our questions. Congratulations, Malcolm."
"That was smooth," the moderator admitted. "Let's get something to drink."
"That's Thirty-Eight points," Dabney screamed. "We won. WE WON!"
"We what?" Malcolm asked as he left the table
"You won," Albus Dumbledore informed him. "You did the impossible, Malcolm. Why am I not surprised?"
"What should I do?"
"Join your friends, Malcolm. They will want to celebrate with you. We will worry about everything else afterward."
*
Draco picked Nob off the ground and called the broomstick back. "That was good. You have turned falling off into an art form." He paused to take a sip from his flask. "You have to remember not to lean into the turn too far. Try it again, but go slowly this time."
Draco watched appreciatively as Nob mounted the broom then flew around the tree, turned around and flew back the other way. "That was great. You didn't even slip."
"I didn't go very fast," Nob said with a pout.
"Speed isn't everything. Now that you can stay on, you can learn to go faster. Let's try landing."
"Landing? But I want to learn to fly."
Draco smirked. He said almost the same thing to the butler when he was learning to fly. "Landing is the hardest part of flying a broom. You have to know how to stop at the right speed and height to land safely. Pull back on your broom to lower yourself."
Nob crashed into the ground.
"You see," Draco explained. "Be thankful you were only three feet off the ground when you did that." He picked Nob up, dusted him off and had him mount the broom.
Nob flew around the tree again, then tried to land. He did, but not with the broom. Draco caught him and put him back on the broom to try again. And again. And again.
"Pull up a little more," Draco explained. "That's it. Come in slowly. Put your feet down and . . . you've done it, Nob. Your first successful landing." He looked at his pocket watch. "And it only took two hours."
Draco went to reach for his flask but realized it was now empty. He also realized that Malcolm had been gone for almost four hours and it was now getting dark. Then, as he felt himself begin to change back, he heard Fred and George coming up behind him from the Burrow. Suddenly, Nob threw his arms around him, and Draco felt a sudden rush of energy flow through his body.
[What just happened?]
"Nob. What did you do?" Draco whispered.
"I felt you changing," Nob whispered in return. "You were becoming not-Malcolm, so I made you Malcolm again."
"How did you do that?"
"I . . . I don't know. Did I do wrong?"
"You did great," Draco assured him, then said loudly, "You did a great job."
"You did," George agreed as he walked up. "You know how to land, Nob, and that's the hard part."
"We'll be teaching you to play Quidditch next," Fred promised.
Nob left the Weasley yard as the happiest five-year-old in the world.
As they left, George mentioned to Fred that Malcolm had finally dropped that fake English accent he was using.
"Psst."
Draco heard the noise as they approached the house. He ushered Nob inside and went to find the source of the noise as Lois began yelling at Nob.
Malcolm stepped out from behind a tree. "You were supposed to be going somewhere."
Draco stared. "Who me?"
[That's right. Mr. Weasel forgot about the time zones.]
"Oh, sorry, there was a change of plans."
The other Malcolm laughed. "I knew I should have checked in first." He held out his hand. "Tonks."
Draco took the hand. "You're welcome."
A popping noise was heard as the other Malcolm disapperated.
[I don't believe it. That guy didn't even look like me. I mean Malcolm. He didn't look like Malcolm. What DID Nob do to me?]