CHAPTER TWENTYONE: AS TIME GOES BY


[We're at the point in the school year now where everyone has settled into their routines. The only problem is: things become predictable.]

Malcolm took a seat in the Great Hall and began to shovel his breakfast onto his plate. He noticed there was only one muffin left on the tray and reached for it, only to have Ron Weasley grab it before he could.

"Sorry," Ron said with a grin.

[See what I mean.]

As Malcolm looked up, he saw Susan Bones walking by to the Hufflepuff table.

"Susan, I shouldn't say this but Draco Malfoy is going around telling everyone you have a cute butt."

Susan looked at Malcolm as what he said registered. With an angry look, she walked over to where Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table. Noticing her, he turned around only to receive some sharp words and a slap in the face. Draco jumped out of his chair and began to yell at her, picking up some food with the intent of shoving it in her face. A nearby Ravenclaw stood up, grabbing his hand and the food, which he threw away with great force. Crabbe and Goyle jumped up, as well as several other Slytherins, a few Ravenclaws, and a couple of Hufflepuffs who wanted to defend the honor of their house. A fight ensued, which was quickly broken up by the teachers, resulting in five detentions, nine reprimands and a total combined loss of sixty-seven house points.

As the fight was beginning, Fred and George were walking by on the way to their regular seats. George was looking at the food that had landed in his hand just as he had entered the Great Hall.

"Are you going to eat that?" Malcolm asked.

"No, here," George said, and tossed the muffin to Malcolm.

As Malcolm bit into his muffin, a scowling Ron greeted his sister. Ginny sat down next to Malcolm and asked, "Is that a cranberry muffin? Are there any more?"

"Would you like me to get you one?" Malcolm offered.

"That would be wonderful. Thank you."

Malcolm looked over to the Ravenclaw table and called out, "Hey, Michael . . ."

*

It was almost the end of October when the letter was delivered, by an ordinary owl.

Malcolm had suffered the indignity of delivering every new edict that was issued. Umbridge would make the suggestion and Fudge would give his approval, and both would gleefully watch Malcolm squirm. Malcolm tearfully wrote Gabrielle Delacour, telling her he would not be able to leave Hogwarts and visit her school, and now he was sitting in Dolores Umbridge's office as she waved the letter in her hand.

"Hem. Hem. You have done a very good job, Malcolm, and you deserve a reward. I will make an announcement this evening so that everyone will know your good fortune. I'm sure you appreciate that."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"You may go now, you horrid boy."

*

Ginny entered the Great Hall for supper and saw Malcolm sitting by himself. "Does everyone still hate you?"

"Not yet," Malcolm answered sullenly. "That's going to happen tonight. Our favorite teacher is going to make an announcement. She's giving me a reward for doing a good job."

Ginny sat down. "Why is she toying with you like this? I know she hates you but she could force the issue and expel you, or make you an object lesson. Why does she want us to think you like tasking for her?"

"I think we're going to find out."

"Hem. Hem." Professor Umbridge immediately had the attention of everyone in the Hall. "As all of you know, one of our students has gone out of his way to be of exceptional help to me in my efforts at the school. Malcolm, will you please stand up." She smiled as Malcolm rose to his feet to receive the stares of almost everyone. "Many of you know that Malcolm and I did not have the best start but we came to a quick understanding and resolution of out differences, because of our common bond. For more than two years, Malcolm and my daughter . . ."

[OH MY GOD. SHE"S CAMILLA'S MOM.]

". . . Camilla, have been in correspondence with each other following a chance meeting at Diagon Alley. She has asked me a favor, and I have obtained approval for this from the headmaster. Malcolm will not be here for the Hallowe'en feast because he will be escorting my Camilla to the Beauxbatons Cotillion. I'm sure that all of us wish to congratulate Malcolm."

Malcolm sat down to half-hearted applause.

"Camilla?" Ginny asked, as Malcolm suddenly became the center of attention.

Malcolm took a deep breath. "Picture a rogue elephant in a party dress."

"And you've been corresponding with her?" Fred asked as he sat down across from Malcolm.

"No, she's been writing me. She even told me she cut out my picture from the Daily Prophet and put it in a frame over her bed."

"And you never wrote back?"

"She said she understood that I was too busy."

Ginny smiled warmly. "You need a chaperone. I'm going to volunteer."

"Good luck." Malcolm managed a smile. "I'm willing to bet Umbridge is going to be the chaperone."

"No, she isn't," Neville said from behind. "I heard her talking to Dumbledore. I didn't know what it was about because I was walking away from her too fast, but Dumbledore said that ALL teachers had to be at the feast. Congratulations, Malcolm."

"For what?"

"You're going to Beauxbatons. Gran told me stories. Even with a rogue elephant as a date, you'll love it."

"Neville, Gabrielle will see me. We finally straightened out the mess from last year."

"Accept it, Malcolm. You're doomed."

*

"Malcolm," Ginny said breathlessly. "I did it."

"Did what?"

"Became your chaperone. Umbridge agreed. McGonagall helped with a few chosen remarks about how unpopular I am, as far as boys are concerned. Then she revealed how I consider you to be a younger brother."

"And Umbridge actually agreed?"

"Immediately after McGonagall said I was unsuitable. I get to go as long as I won't give her daughter any competition."

Ginny hugged Malcolm and gave him a peck on the cheek as Ron and Harry walked up.

"Ginny," Ron yelled as he saw them. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to Beauxbatons, and you are not. Hi, Harry. I've got to tell Hermione. Do you know where she is?"

Ron pointed, and Ginny ran off. Ron looked at Malcolm and scowled.

"You're not, you know, boyfriends with Ginny."

[I have to do this.]

"Yeah, ever since she broke up with Neville. Haven't you noticed? We always sit together."

Ron's face turned an amusing shade of purple.

"He's joking, Ron," Harry said. "You should know that. He's no more Ginny's boyfriend than I am. We already know he fancies that French girl."

Ron glared at Malcolm then walked off with Harry. "That's a good idea, though."

"What is?" Harry asked.

"You and Ginny. You look good together."

"That's what I like about you, Ron. You never lose your sense of humor."

"But I'm serious, Harry . . ."

*

"Happy Birthday, Ginny," Dewey said as he walked up. "I'm sorry I missed your party."

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other.

"It was my birthday," Hermione told Dewey. "I think you mixed up the dates."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Hermione. Happy birthday, but I can't give you the gift."

"What is the gift?" Ginny asked.

Dewey blushed. "I remembered how you looked all dressed up, and, well, I was the one who arranged it so you would have a date with someone I know you like."

*

"Cousin." Draco came strolling around the corner. "I came to congratulate you on your good fortune, which I know you like to share."

"I love to share. You can go in my place if you want to."

"No, but I will be going with you. I had Dewey tell his favorite teacher that I was offering my services to keep you in line. He came back with a permission slip. Ah, to visit France in Autumn."

[This situation has a familiar ring to it.]

"So, Draco. Are you going to coordinate with Ginny on how you dress?"

Draco laughed. "That was good. I know what you are referring to but that isn't likely to happen."

"Apparently Umbridge knows as well. I guess that's why she liked the idea of Ginny going."

"Uh, um," Draco said as the facts entered his brain. "Excuse me, Malcolm. I remember what happened the last time the three of us went somewhere together. I think instead I'll have myself committed to St. Mungo's."

*

"This isn't going to work, Hermione. I know what will happen. Wait, I know what to do. I'll kill Malcolm and Dewey and hide the bodies."

"It won't work, Ginny. You know about Dewey. You'll have to kill him twice."

*

"This is terrible," Hal said as he came home. "Do you know what I found out? They don't have a real Hallowe'en in this country. We won't be able to get rid of the kids this year."

"Yes we will," Lois said calmly as she finished folding the laundry. "Dewey, get in here. Repeat that poem you learned today."

Dewey grinned. "You mean the one about Bonfire Night?"

"Bonfire?" Hal mouthed and Lois nodded.

Dewey took a deep breath. "Please to remember / The Fifth of November / Gunpowder, Treason and Plot. / I see no reason / why Gunpowder Treason / Should ever be forgot."

"Thank you, Dewey."

As Dewey ran off, Hal asked, "What does treason have to do with bonfires."

Lois explained calmly. "Some guy named Fawkes tried to blow up Parliament a long time ago, and they celebrate the fact that he failed by burning him in effigy. Bonfires. We only have to wait a week."

"I like it, but how do we get rid of the kids."

"There's a parade beforehand. All the kids in the neighborhood dress up like beggars and march through the street. I've already arranged for Dewey and Nob to be part of a group from school."

"You are a genius," Hal said.

"It runs in the family."

*

"This is embarrassing," Malcolm moaned as he sat in the Great Hall. "I can't deal with this."

"Can't deal with what?" Dewey asked.

"Dewey, you're supposed to be in school."

"It's lunch hour. I came here to eat today. I need to ask Hermione a question. It's about the Christmas play."

"What Christmas play," Ginny asked.

"I've got a part and I need to know how to dress."

"That sounds easy enough," Ginny said. "What's the name of the play?"

"Is Hermione here?"

"I've only just walked in," Hermione said from behind him. "What did you want me for?"

"Did Richard the Third have the hunch on his back on the right side or the left?"

"He wasn't a hunchback at all," Hermione said. "That was made up by Shakespeare, to make the winner of the final battle seem more noble. He was trying to impress Elizabeth the First, who was the winner's granddaughter."

"OK," Dewey said. "Did Shakespeare write him with the hunch on the left or the right?"

Hermione smiled. "I don't think he ever said."

"OK." Dewey accepted that. "What is a hunch, anyway?"

*

"Are you ready, Malcolm," Professor McGonagall said rather than asked.

"Yeah. I'm ready," Malcolm said glumly.

[It's nor fair. A month ago I would have killed to go. Now, I'm tempted to kill for a reason not to go.]

"Don't worry, Malcolm. I'm sure you will find a way to turn this into a positive experience."

"I'm sure you're right, Professor."

[Neville's right. I am doomed.]

"It's time to meet Professor Umbridge. She wants to make sure you are presentable before you go."

Malcolm followed McGonagall out of the common room without saying a word. Finally he stopped at Umbridge's office and was let in.

"You'll do splendidly,' Umbridge said smugly. She handed him a box and a hairbrush. "This is the corsage you will give Camilla, and this brush is the portkey. Professor Flitwick tells me he made a most ingenious charm. It will work when two students from Gryffindor and one from Slytherin touch it. That guarantees that when you return it will be with the two students you left with."

"That was clever of Professor Flitwick," Malcolm said.

"Hem. Hem. Don't bother to praise that midget. He was only trying to impress me with a cheap trick."

[Right. And the Grand Canyon is just a hole in the ground.]

Malcolm nodded. "I was just trying to be polite. My mom told me it never hurts."

"Waste your time if you want to," Umbridge said callously. "Now run off to meet your friends, and make sure that my daughter has a wonderful time." She paused and added. "I said go, you horrid boy."

Malcolm quickly complied and found himself almost to the Great Hall when Dewey stopped him.

"Malcolm, I have a wonderful idea. I'm going with you instead of Draco."

"Nobody asked if you wanted to go, and Draco has already told me he's going."

"He changed his mind. He wrote a note. He doesn't want another date with Ginny Weasley. I thought they liked each other?"

"They did, although they never admitted it. But that was before things changed."

Dewey nodded. "Can I go? I can't go to the Hallowe'en feast. I walked in about a minute ago."

Malcolm looked surprised. "Are you telling me that you don't remember being here for Hallowe'en?"

"And I'll find out why I don't remember when I get back."

"Okay," Malcolm finally said, "the portkey needs a Slytherin to activate it. You can go. All we have to do is find Ginny."

"She's in the Great Hall."

"What?"

"She doesn't want to have Draco for a date. She gave me a message when I ran into her. That's when I saw myself, although I don't think I saw me. You know what I mean."

"Dewey, I'm supposed to leave in a minute. I need a Gryffindor."

"I'll help," Matthew Zeller said as he walked past. "I still need practice on being helpful to people. What do you need me for?"

"To go to the Beauxbatons Cotillion."

Matthew's eyes grew wide. "I've heard about that. It's the fanciest ball in the school year. Every student has at least one chaperone, so all the parents try to show off for the other parents. It's the Who's Who in French Wizard Society. Why are you asking me to go?"

"I need a chaperone from Gryffindor. Ginny Weasley bailed on me."

"She what?"

"She changed her mind at the last minute," Dewey said.

"Oh." Matthew Zeller nodded his head. "What do I have to do?"

"Grab hold of this hairbrush," Malcolm said evenly.

Dewey grabbed hold as did Matthew, and they instantly felt the wrenching in their stomachs as they disappeared from Hogwarts' halls and reappeared in front of a different castle.

*

Hogwarts school is housed in a magically altered Medieval castle. The first impression one receives is the type of place where Richard the Lion Hearted might reign. A better thought would be King Arthur with his Round Table of knights.

Beauxbatons was a different style of castle. It spoke of the Renaissance, with it's flowing grace. Delicately framed windows were everywhere, making the castle seem, from certain angles, to be made entirely of glass, and glass of every hue. The castle, with its grand arches, was surrounded by gardens. The main entrance, Malcolm noted when he looked around, was approached by a straight road through a grassy landscape, with flowers and fountains interspersed with lines of shrubs.

"It's like Versailles if it was designed by a wizard." Malcolm was amazed.

"That's almost correct," Matthew Zeller said. "But you have it backward. The French Monarch visited the school for some reason and fell in love with it. He had muggle architects try to reproduce the building and grounds."

"Whatever," Malcolm said. "Why don't you guys get lost? I need to meet my doom."

"OK," Dewey said, and they left before Malcolm could change his mind.

[Not that I would change my mind. I'm not crazy enough to want either of them to stay.]

"Are you Malcolm?" A Beauxbatons student asked, his voice thick with a French accent.

"Yeah, I'm supposed to meet Camilla Umbridge."

"And I will be your guide. I am Jean Paul."

"Jean Paul Delacour?"

"Oui. Camilla is this way."

Jean Paul led the way beneath the glass filigree portico and into the main hall. Malcolm stopped at the entrance in surprise. The entire room was bigger than the Great Hall, with tall thin stained glass windows at regular intervals. With the sun beginning to set, The room was lit in a vast relief of colors.

"Richard of York," Malcolm mused.

"Pardon?"

'Talking to myself," Malcolm explained. "Can we get this over with? Where's Camilla?"

"You're American," a blond English girl said. She was Jean Paul's age, and extremely attractive. By the way she took Jean Paul's hand, she was also spoken for. "You must be Malcolm. Camilla has been talking about you to everyone."

"Oh."

Jean Paul grinned. "Malcolm is not pleased with the arrangements. He is the one who caused my sister to fall in love."

[This is Great. I bet everyone here knows what's going on.]

"I have to be honest. I was forced on this date. The last time I met her she outweighed me by a couple hundred pounds. I hate to think what she looks like now." Malcolm tried to smile as the couple stared at him.

"Then I will help," Jean Paul said. He pointed at the box Malcolm was holding. "Is that supposed to be for Camilla?" Malcolm nodded. Jean Paul turned to the girl. "My dear. Do you make any objection that I help this poor boy and take his place?"

"None at all," Camilla said as she accepted the corsage from her beau.

"You're Camilla," Malcolm stammered. "But . . . you look great."

"Thank you, Malcolm. But you still have to find yourself another date."

"Try the girl standing behind you," Jean Paul suggested. His grin matched the one on Camilla's face.

Malcolm saw Jean Paul wink, and realized what had happened. He mouthed the words. "Thank you," and turned around to face the girl standing behind him. He said nothing for almost a full minute.

"You are as beautiful as I remembered."

"You are as 'andsome as I remembered," Gabrielle Delacour replied.