CHAPTER EIGHT: DIAGON ALLEY REVISITED


"I've been thinking," Hal said as he and Lois climbed into bed.

"I'm too tired," Lois said.

"It wasn't that."

"Oh," Lois said with sudden interest.

"It's the boys. They're getting older. Francis has run off somewhere on his own. Malcolm and Big Dewey are going away to school, even though Little Dewey will still be here. (I haven't really figured that one out). The house is getting pretty empty."

"We still have Reese, and Little Dewey and Nob. That's quite a handful, Hal."

That's the beauty of my idea. Because of what happened to our old house, these people are bending over backwards to help us."

"Hal," Lois said in an annoyed tone, "what is this great idea?"

"Boarding School."

"We can't send Little Dewey, and Nob is too young. We can only send Reese. We'll still be stuck with two kids."

"You're right," Hal said. "It doesn't matter if we have two or three kids at home full time. I mean . . ."

Hal's reverie was broken by the sound of plates breaking, and Reese yelling, "Quit sneaking up on me you little brat. I'm trying to be quiet."

Dewey's voice followed. "I'm following you, you jerk. I want some, too."

"Are there cookies?" Nob asked.

Lois turned to Hal. "Boarding School sounds wonderful." She glanced at the bedroom door as the sound of something falling over could be heard. "Hal?"

Hal grumbled as he got out of bed. "I'll take care of it, but you'd better not be tired when I get back."

"It's a Deal."

*

"I want to go to Diagon Alley," Dewey complained.

"You can't go," Hal explained. "We have to register you at your new school. You'll be going with Nob," he added excitedly. "You get to be an older brother."

"I didn't even want to be a younger brother," Dewey pointed out with remarkable passion.

"Well, too bad," Lois said, "you're stuck with what you get. It could have been worse."

[We're in trouble. Mom's about to give us the lecture.]

"Look at Stevie Kenarben. You won't find a nicer boy around, but he has to use a wheelchair. Don't tell me he has a perfect life. And what about Draco Malfoy. His father is probably the richest wizard in the country, and you saw what Draco got as a present. You wouldn't even take that quill when he tried to give it to you. Or you could have been that Potter kid, growing up in a closet all his life. Look at all the trouble he gets into. Be lucky you have the family you have, it could be worse."

"You're right, Mom. I'm sorry."

"I'm not done with you yet, little mister," Lois said.

Hal pointed to his watch. "The time, Honey. We don't want to be late."

"Okay, Dewey, you get a reprieve . . ."

"Yeah!"

" . . . go get your brother."

"Mom, Nob is hiding in the attic," Dewey pointed out.

Lois looked up in surprise. "Reese, did you tell him he was going to be auctioned off to a new family? I warned you about that after you said that to Dewey."

"I didn't do anything," Reese complained.

"I'll get him," Hal said. I've done it twice already."

[That was fun. Francis told Reese that when he first went to school, and Reese went and hid. And I told Dewey and Dewey went and hid. I bet Dewey was the one who told Nob.]

"Mom, I'm supposed to be at the Weasleys. Bill's taking me to Diagon Alley."

[I should tell you that Reese told me they were going to auction me off to a new family. And I believed him. I was up and ready before the alarm went off.]

Malcolm paused as he thought about his foster brother and where he had come from. "Dad, I better get Nob."

Hal held up his hand. "No, I'll get him. It's the one thing I'm good at."

Hal ran up the stairs all the way to the attic which was no more than a large crawl space. He paused to listen for crying. "Nob? Don't you want to go to school?"

"I'm not going to school," Nob cried.

"Not today. You're only going to sign up. It's not like we're going to try and auction you off or something. We tried that with Dewey. Nobody would take him. I'm not going through that embarrassment again."

"You're n-not," Nob's scared voice came from behind some boxes. "I thought, because I was . . ."

"You're family," Hal pointed out. "And that's the thing about this family. We'll yell at each other and say almost anything, but once you're a part of this family, you're stuck with us. And we're stuck with you." Hal paused. "Besides, I lied about Dewey and the auction."

"You lied?" Nob asked as his teary face popped up.

"And I guess Dewey lied to you, just like Malcolm lied to him. It's a right of passage."

"A what?"

"It's something that seemed fun to do at the time. C'mon, son, let's get you cleaned up."

Nob was still crying. "Malcolm said it's not real."

"What's not real?"

"I'm not really your son. That I won't be unless I'm adopted."

"When did Malcolm tell you this?"

"He told Dobby. I was standing there."

"Oh, at the school," Hal said as he managed to grab Nob and pull him into a hug. "That doesn't mean it's not real. You're our son because we love you. All that . . . stuff that Malcolm said was just government paperwork. It 's nonsense that some lazy clerk designed because he had nothing better to do so he decided to waste my time filling out forms. Like that luxury tax on my car. You've seen that car. Does that look like a luxury to you. No. But I have to fill out seventeen different forms so they know that, when they could just come down and take a look for themselves. They're like clones of that French skunk, Pepe Le Pew. He thinks he's so clever but you can smell him a mile away. He's pure evil, I can tell you that." He turned to Nob and smiled. "I'll ask Malcolm handle the paperwork. He'll tell us if we should even bother."

Nob stared dry eyed. He had stopped paying attention when Hal mentioned the lazy clerk. Now an answer was expected of him. "OK?"

"It's settled then. Let's get you ready for your first visit to the school."

They went downstairs and said goodbye to Malcolm, who whispered something to make Nob laugh.

As Malcolm turned to leave, Nob said loudly to Dewey, "I hope I get a real good family."

"What are you talking about, Honey?" Lois asked.

[I told him to say that.]

Hal looked up. "I need to tell Malcolm something. I'll be right back."

"What do you need to tell him?" Lois asked.

"I forget, but I'll remember in a moment."

Hal caught up to Malcolm as he was about to knock on the Weasley's door. "We need to talk about Nob."

"Sure, Dad. What about him?"

"Well, he was upset because of what Dewey told him about being auctioned off. It's because he's, well, your know."

"A house elf. I know, Dad. I was the one who explained it to you.'

Hal nodded sincerely. "And that's why I can talk to you. It seems that Nob would like to be a part of the family so that he could be real. I tried to tell him he was real as far as I was concerned but I finally told him I would let you handle it."

[Handle what?]

"What do you want me to do?"

"You don't have to do anything. If Nob asks just tell him that it's too much paperwork. He'll understand."

"Could you tell me what he'll understand? Because I don't."

Hal struck a thoughtful pose. "It's important, Malcolm. It's about being a family. I have no problem with it, but your mother is different. She always tells me I tricked her into this. Not that that's true. Nob is a wonderful part of the family. He's the best chance I have for the perfect son, and I'm not saying this to put you down. You were right up there until this brain thing came along and then you had this magic stuff. By the time I could cope with that it was to late. I want you to know that I don't blame you even though it was your fault."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Your welcome, Malcolm. But as I was saying, Reese was totally hopeless from day one, and Francis always had an attitude. I blame your mother for that. And Dewey, well, I think your mom stood too close to the microwave when she was pregnant. That's why it's so important for us to stay together. Can I count on you?"

[I got the part about family. I have no idea what the rest of it means. I'm taking the easy way out.]

"Sure, Dad. I'll take care of it."

"Is that a promise? I mean, I'm counting on you to do this. You have to mean that. It has to be a big promise, because I don't want to lose Nob. Well, none of us do, except Dewey but I think he's just imitating you and Reese. How about one of those wizard promises I keep hearing about."

"You want me to take a wizards oath to keep Nob in the family?

"Just to make sure he stays. I don't want your mom to worry."

[That does it. I have no idea what Dad is talking about.]

"Don't you have to raise your hand?" Hal asked.

Malcolm raised his hand. "What do you want me to swear to?"

"Just swear that you'll keep Nob happy in our family."

"Fine. I swear that I'll do whatever it takes for Nob to stay with us. Okay."

"Thank you, Malcolm. I knew I could count on you. Remember, don't mention adoption around your mother or Nob." Malcolm nodded. "Have a good time at school." Hal waved to the boy standing in the now open doorway. "Have fun at school, Dewey. I have to get back to you and your Mom and . . . heck, you were there. You know that."

"Bye, Dad," Dewey said, then turned to Malcolm. "Now you know why I'm glad I'm going away to school."

"Whatever, Dewey."

"I know what you're going to do."

"How?"

Dewey smirked. "Because you did it? Now I get to find out how."

"I'll tell you as soon as I figure it out."

"You made a wizard oath to get Nob adopted."

"That wasn't a wizard oath, Dewey."

"Then why are you thinking about it?"

"I'm not thinking about it," Malcolm yelled. "How did you know I was thinking about it."

"You told me."

"No, I didn't."

"You will."

"It wasn't a real wizard oath, Dewey."

"Does it matter?"

*

Malcolm sat at a table at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor as Dewey cheerfully ate his Sundae. The green color was gradually leaving Malcolm's face.

"Malcolm, when we're done with our ice cream, can we get more money out of the bank?"

Dewey smiled as the green color returned to his brother's face.

"Hurry up, Dewey. We still have to buy all of our supplies."

"You do. Mine are already bought. All I have to do is get a wand."

"Then why did you tell Mom that you needed that stuff?"

"Now I get to spend the night in a wizard hotel."

[Let's see? Spend the night at the Weasley's empty house or spend the night at the Leaky Cauldron. Yeah, it's a no-brainer.]

Dewey looked up as he finished his ice cream. "Can I check out the Quidditch Shop while you get your robes?"

"You are going to stay there, aren't you? I don't want you running off again."

"I will. I promise."

"Fine."

Malcolm went to Madam Malkins and had himself fitted with new robes for the coming year. He left with a promise that they would be delivered to his room at the inn. He then walked past Flourish and Blotts to the Quidditch Shop. Dewey wasn't there.

[Why am I not surprised?]

"Malcolm," Dewey called. Malcolm looked around but couldn't see him.

"MALCOLM," Dewey called again. Malcolm looked around and a passing witch pointed upward.

"Dewey, what are you doing?"

"Taking my new broom for a test flight."

"First Years can't have brooms. Besides, you can't pay for it."

"I know. But they let me try it out before I make my choice."

"You told them you were buying it? Do you know what they can do to you when they find out you lied?"

Dewey landed. "I told them it was conditional, that you still had to say yes or no."

"And they still let you try it out?"

"I told them you were rich and I wasn't. Besides, it's the old model they had in the window." Dewey frowned as he landed. "It's the only way I'll ever fly a decent broom."

{He is right about that.]

Malcolm gave Dewey a frown of his own. "My money is only for school. I'll take it back inside and tell them no. And you know Mom and Dad can't afford anything like this."

"I know." Dewey had heard that line too many time before.

Malcolm walked inside and found the salesman, who immediately gave him a broad smile.

"Will you be making the purchase, Sir? Your brother was very enthusiastic."

"My parents can't afford it. Sorry."

"But it is a Nimbus 2000. Being the older model, we're almost giving it away."

"Yeah, but it's also a display model. How many people have test flown it."

"Not as many as you might think. And I know what you are thinking." The salesman named a price.

[That is a good price.]

"Sorry," Malcolm said and tried to hand the broom back. "My brother's a first year anyway."

"Perhaps you would be interested ," the salesman said as he took the broom. "What do you fly now?"

"I don't use a broom when I fly."

The salesman's eyes widened in recognition. "You're that boy Malcolm. You're the animagus." An avaricious glint came into his eyes. "How would you like to make a deal that would benefit both of us."

"I don't have enough money on me, even if you cut the price in half."

"If you have the money in Gringotts, we can make a bank draft. And cutting the price in half does seem fair, if you permit us to advertise that we sold YOU a broom."

Malcolm thought briefly as he glanced out the window to check on Dewey. His brother was there, looking in the window, not at him but at the brooms.

[I know that look.]

The five year old boy looked wistfully at the brand new wagon.

"No, Malcolm," Lois said. "You know we can't afford it right now. Maybe for Christmas."

The seven year old boy looked wistfully at the brand new ten speed bike.

"Sorry, Malcolm," Hal said. "That's a little out of our price range right now. How about I fix up Francis's old bike. It only has one speed so you won't get confused by all those levers."

The nine year old boy looked wistfully at the brand new Harley.

"You look big enough to reach the handles," the salesman said. "Why don't you take the bike for a spin around the block. See if you like it. We'll make an easy payment plan for you. Say a dollar a week?"

[Sorry, one of my old daydreams slipped into my flashbacks. But you get the picture. In our family we never get anything decent. This broom is the old model, but even at the price he's willing to sell it for, my parents would still say no.]

"It's a Deal."

*

"Remember, Dewey. If anybody asks, it is my . . . where are you?"

Malcolm looked up to find Dewey flying happily around the rooftops.

"His first broom?" someone asked as they noticed.

"Yeah. I just hope he comes down."

"I remember my first real broom. I didn't come down for six days."

As the wizard continued on, Malcolm signaled Dewey to follow him to the wand shop then waited for thirty minutes for him to land.

"Thank you, Malcolm. Thank you. Thank you."

"Just remember. If anybody at school asks, it's my broom."

Malcolm opened the door to the wand shop.

Dewey followed him in, setting the broom by the door. "This place is old. Does anybody work here? What are all these boxes for? What type of wand should I get?"

"The wand chooses the wizard, Master Dewey," Mr. Ollivander said as he stepped out of the shadows. "I see your brother is here as well. I have heard about your loss, Malcolm. You know your way around, I believe."

Ollivander gave Malcolm a sly smile which he eagerly returned.

Malcolm arbitrarily picked out a box, pulled out the wand and gave it a wave. "Accio Nimbus."

The broom immediately shot across the room and hit Malcolm squarely in the stomach.

"A wand has found you already," Ollivander commented as the young wizard bent over, gasping for air. "Dragon Heartstring. No surprise there. And Beech? That is a rare combination. You have a powerful wand, Malcolm, if you use it correctly."

"What is this tape doing?" Dewey asked as it measured the distance between his nostrils.

"It does get carried away sometimes," Ollivander said with a snap of his fingers. The tape retreated to a bare spot on the counter. "Would you like to try your brother's method or should I choose a wand for you to try?"

"Will I get hit in the stomach if I find one on my own?"

"Ugh, Ugh," Malcolm commented on hearing the snide remark.

Dewey smiled. "Can I have that one?" He pointed all the way to the back, to a dusty box near the top that was sticking out slightly more than the one beneath it."

"I should not have asked," Ollivander said as he moved the ladder and climbed all thirty steps, then reached out carefully to get that particular box. He climbed down, rested briefly, then brought the box to Dewey who was holding a wand in his hand.

"This was on the counter. Is it yours?" Dewey asked as he waved it and green sparks flew out of the tip."

Ollivander scowled. "It was left out from a previous customer who was rather difficult. It hadn't been put back yet."

"I like it," Dewey said. "I want this one."

"Very well," Ollivander said with a huff, and looked at the box in his hand. "Why don't you try this one, anyway. That way you understand the difference between a good wand and one that won't work for you."

"I like this one."

"Try it," Ollivander said. "After all the effort I made to get it, it is the least you could do."

"I like this one."

"Very well," Ollivander said, giving up, then added in a monotone, "you have a nice wand there, Maple, Dragon heartstring, Eleven and one quarter inches."

"Hey," Malcolm gasped, "That's almost like my old wand."

"I'll try the other wand," Dewey offered.

"You liked that one," Ollivander pointed out.

"It's just like Malcolm's old wand," Dewey complained. "If I get this one, it will be like getting another Hand-Me-Down. Do you have any brothers?"

"I'll concede the point," Ollivander said, and handed him the wand from the box.

Dewey sat the old wand back on the counter and took the new wand in his hand. "This feels different."

"That is Rowan wood, ten inches long, with an Hercina feather at it's core. An excellent wand for spelling."

"Do you have one that's good for arithmetic?"

"Why don't you give it a wave?"

Dewey did so, and was surprised when, instead of sparks, a stream of red and gold stars appeared. "That was great."

Ollivander shook his head in wry humor. "Shall I return it to it's box or will you be taking it with you." Dewey replied by putting the wand in the pocket of his robe. "I will notify St. Mungo's. Malcolm, if you are recovered, you owe me seven Galleons and sixteen Sickles. And would I be offensive if I asked about your largesse? It seems that Dewey was thanking YOU for buying him that broom. Please don't tell me that you made another 'arrangement' with Lucius Malfoy."

Malcolm grinned. "Uncle Lucius did it on his own. I never even talked to him about it."

The wand seller's eyes grew wide. "You are Malfoy's lowlife relative? I thought that was only a joke." He laughed. "I suppose it is a good one at that."

[Lowlife?]

"Malcolm, don't be offended. You are everything the Malfoys are against. When everyone finds out about you, they are sure to reverse the joke."

[Yeah, I believe him.]

*

"Lucius?"

"Master, the small matter you asked me about has been taken care of."

"You told me that the boy had agreed?"

"I admit that it was to remain close to my son, Draco, but even now he is spending the money you set aside for him."

"But he did agree willingly?"

"Indeed. We shook hands as well. I did not even have to use my Ace card."

"And why did you not tell me earlier that your two families were related?"

Lucius Malfoy paused. "I was not sure until recently, Master. In a matter such as this, I had to be certain before I said anything."

"Good. Have we heard anything about the boy, Louis Renault?"

"Osgoode says that the boy appears to have vanished. He probably heard what had happened and is hiding somewhere."

"Tell Osgoode not to worry. Your nephew Malcolm has clearly seen which side he should be on. That is one small problem we have done away with. Well done, Lucius."

"Thank you, Master."

*

"Do you want to come in with me?" Malcolm asked Dewey.

"I want to keep flying the broom."

"Fine. Just don't hit any more people when you fly past them."

"It wasn't my fault," Dewey complained. "He shouldn't have stuck his head out the window."

Malcolm shook his head as he entered Flourish and Blotts.

"It's you again," a clerk muttered.

[I remember him. But his hair wasn't gray.]

"I didn't do anything. I just came in to buy my books."

"You don't need anything special, do you? Only the standard texts?"

"Yeah, I've got the list here."

"The clerk was relieved. "I'll be more than happy to take care of it for you."

"WATCH OUT," someone screamed from outside..

"What was that?"

The clerk pointed outside. "Some wizard bought his brat a new broom. The runt has been flying at people on and off for the past two hours. It wouldn't be a relative of yours?"

"Look, just get my books for me."

The clerk went off with a frown. As he came back with the books, the front door opened and someone screamed. Dewey came flying into the store. He landed next to Malcolm as the clerk fell to the floor and the customers scattered..

"Malcolm, this broom is great."

"Dewey, you were supposed to hold that broom, not fly it. Didn't you see that other kid out there who kept bothering people? Do you want people to think you're like that?"

[That should keep everyone in the store from ganging up on me.]

"There's another kid out there?" Dewey asked in surprise. "I'm going to see if he wants to fly together."

As Dewey ran out, the clerk and every other employee stared at Malcolm. "My dad's supposed to be watching him. I don't know what happened."

[It's not working. They don't believe me.]

"JUST SEND THE BOOKS TO MY ROOM." Malcolm threw several galleons on the counter and ran for it. He lost them just after he turned a dark corner.

"Are you lost, little boy?" The old hag peered at Malcolm closely.

"No, I'm not lost."

"You're not in trouble are you?" A suspicious looking man in worn robes was eyeing him carefully.

Malcolm quickly looked around the corner to see if the angry mob was still there.

"Not yet."

The hag put her hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "If you are in trouble, I know some people who can help."

"Lady, these are new robes. Don't touch me."

A couple of other ne'er-do-wells joined the scene. Malcolm was almost surrounded. He looked around and saw no escape. The hag reached out her hand again.

"DUCK," someone shouted, as Dewey came flying about four feet off the ground and everyone threw themselves onto the cobblestone street.

Malcolm started to get up but was dragged to his feet by strong hands.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have enough sense to know when someplace is not safe?" Severus Snape huffed. "It is obvious why you were never put into Slytherin. You have a brain. You simply refuse to use it."

Snape dragged Malcolm out of Knockturn Alley. "Malcolm, we are going back to the bookstore I saw you leave. I want to find out why you ran out so quickly. Then you are going to help me find that errant flyer and bring him back to earth." Severus stopped in his tracks. "Malcolm, why to I have the feeling that these two events are related?"

"It's Dewey, Sir."

"And how did he get his hands on a broom?"

"I bought it for him."

Snape glared at Malcolm. "I won't even bother to ask how. I want to know why. He's your brother. You should know better than anyone that he is a walking menace. The last thing he needs is increased mobility."

Malcolm stared at the Professor but said nothing.

"WHY?"

"I felt sorry for him."

[I think I surprised him with that answer.]

"You felt sorry for him? You felt sorry for Dewey? I'm taking you to St. Mungo's immediately. There is obviously something wrong with you. I don't even feel sorry for that runt. I go to sleep dreading what will happen next September when he finally starts school."

"Uh."

"I'm not going to like this," Snape muttered. "What do you mean by uh?"

"Dewey won't be starting Hogwarts next year."

"Why not?

[This is cool. His lip is quivering and I haven't even told him yet.]

"There's going to be some kind of accident . . ."

"Going to be?"

" . . . with time," Malcolm paused, then added in a rushed voice. "Dewey's now eleven and I got the money for the broom from Uncle Lucius."

[I've never seen a face go that white before.]