A/N I thank mandraco for the nitpicking. I will correct the typo and, because I don't understand the pun either, I will spell compliment correctly, which is to say that I will use the correct spelling of compliment not that I will substitute the word correctly for it.

To Black Ice, I'm sorry that you are confused, but this chapter should explain why Malcolm is there. If confusion still continues, take two aspirin and curse the author.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: BEAUXBATONS


"This," Matthew Zeller said in perfect French, "is the future."

"What is it?" came the reply from one of a number of young students gathered in the boys bathroom.

"It is a collection of the most vile jokes you have ever seen. Induced vomiting, bloody noses that won't stop running, high fevers and, for the members of your school with a mild turn of stomach, a sleeping potion."

"Your French is very good, but we need better proof than that."

Matthew Zeller took half of the toffee. He immediately held a handkerchief under his nose which began to bleed. After a few murmurs of appreciation, he took the other half, and showed them that the bleeding had stopped. He then demonstrated the vomiting toffee, with similar success.

"How much," one student asked.

"I told you, it is the future. Consider what I've shown you and send any requests for prices to either of the persons on this card. We will be taking orders for the Christmas season." He began handing out cards for Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. In addition to the names of the twins, his own name was on the card as well with the notation, 'salesman'.

*

"This is a really nice place," Dewey said to the girl his age.

"Je ne parley Anglais," The girl said with a smile.

"Yeah, I don't speak it too good either. Do you go to school here?"

"Parley vous Francais?" the girl asked.

"No, I never tried. Do you play Quidditch?"

The girl laughed. Dewey grinned. The girl grabbed Dewey by the hand, and led him to a group of her friends. They spoke for several minutes and the only word that Dewey understood was Quidditch. By ones and twos the group of boys and girls slipped out of the guest hall, the girl taking Dewey by the hand. A short time later, an informal game was being played in the waning sunlight.

*

"This is stupid," Reese said as they walked across the lawn. "It's Hallowe'en and this school isn't doing anything."

Anthony grinned. "Wait a few days. On the fifth, we'll be lighting the bonfire."

"You know, Malcolm's school has a big feast going on."

"That doesn't mean very much," Anthony pointed out. "Do you know where his school is? Do you know how to get there?"

"It requires a fireplace."

Anthony looked at Reese's serious expression. "I'll pass."

"I have the floo powder."

"The what? Never mind. I'm not interested."

"Don't be stupid. You're my friend. Of course you want to go."

"I'm not your friend." Reese looked at him. "I'm supposed to keep an eye on you."

Reese smiled. "Close enough. C'mon."

"No."

"You can't watch me if you're not with me."

Anthony persisted. "Why do you want me to come with you? Why don't you just go by yourself?"

Reese countered with logic of his own. "If I go by myself, I'll get into trouble."

"And if I go with you, we'll both get into trouble."

"Exactly. It will be the same trouble but only half as bad."

"NO."

"Good," Reese said and grabbed Anthony by the arm. "There's a fireplace in the big room by the principle's office."

"He's the headmaster, you idiot. Let me go."

"Fine," Reese said. "Stay here and have a boring night. I'll go to the party myself. I know I can find a few girls to talk to, Shorty."

"That isn't fair, calling me names," Anthony said. "I'm only trying to talk some sense into you. You can't go wandering off whenever you feel like it."

"Yes, I can," Reese said and reached into his pocket for a small bag. He crumpled up a piece of paper, lit it with a match that 'just happened to be there', and threw the paper into the old fashioned fireplace. "Gryffindor," he called out as he threw a pinch of the floo powder onto the flame.

"Cor," Anthony said as the small fire suddenly flared up and turned bright green. His next words were lost as Reese pushed him into the flames.

*

Hermione was sitting by the fireplace waiting for Harry and Ron to get ready. She put down her book in time to see a boy trip out of the fireplace and land with his face on the cushion next to her.

"May I help you?" Hermione asked after recovering quickly from her surprise.

"No thanks," Anthony said as he righted himself and sat on the couch next to her.. "It's too late. I hate that Reese."

Hermione looked up as Reese stepped casually out of the fireplace.

"Okay, Anthony. It's this way to the party." Reese gestured toward the entranceway.

Hermione looked at Anthony's scowl and turned back to Reese. "He looks a bit shaken. Why don't you go on ahead. I'll bring him down when he's ready."

"Sure, but if anybody asks, he showed up first. I only came because I had to follow him."

As Reese left, Hermione turned back to Anthony. "Did he really bring you along as an excuse?"

"It definitely wasn't my idea," Anthony complained. "I have a lot of homework due tomorrow and people will be angry if I don't deliver."

"You mean your teachers?"

Anthony startled. "Oh, yes, the teachers. I was talking about the teachers being angry." To change the subject, he asked, "You weren't very surprised when I arrived here. Why?"

"I was at first, but when I saw your jacket I remembered about Reese's school. Once I realized that Malcolm or one of his brothers were involved, I knew to be prepared for anything."

"How comforting," Anthony said snidely, and Hermione laughed.

"What was the joke, Hermione?" Harry asked as he and Ron walked up.

"Harry, Ron, this is a friend of Reese. They used the fireplace to come to the school for the Hallowe'en feast."

"Reese has friends?" Ron asked.

"I'm supposed to watch him," Anthony explained. "Thanks to his brother, Reese has too many surprises for me to keep up with. Today, I learned about Floo Powder."

Ron scowled. "Mum said she noticed some of our floo powder was missing."

"Talk to Reese. He could probably lend you some." Anthony smiled to show Ron that he did understand.

Harry couldn't help but look amused. "Hermione, is this going to happen all the time? I mean, muggles aren't supposed to show up at school uninvited."

Hermione smiled. "Harry, aren't you the least bit curious that Reese and, Um,"

"Anthony," Anthony supplied.

"And Anthony were able to use the floo network to get to Gryffindor Tower from a muggle school?"

"When Malcolm is involved, NO," Ron added helpfully.

Anthony had to interrupt. "Does Malcolm always get this reaction?"

Ron smirked and Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry was the one who answered the question.

"You have to understand Malcolm. He is in Gryffindor. His best friend is in Slytherin. His best friend is also my worst enemy in this school. Malcolm's brother is in Slytherin as well. The same brother is also attending a muggle school. Malcolm's parents have recently adopted a house elf. And, to top off everything else, Malcolm is the lapdog of the worst teacher in the school."

"That's not true," Hermione countered.

"Then why is he going to Beauxbatons on a date with her daughter?"

"He isn't. He has a date with Gabrielle Delacour." Hermione looked smug. "Because I wrote a letter."

"You?" Harry asked.

"Wrote a letter?" Ron asked.

"What's Beau Buttons?" Anthony asked.

"It's a school of magic in France. And yes, I wrote a letter. When I heard about her daughter . . ."

"You knew about her daughter?" Ron asked.

"Of course I did, and quit interrupting. The first bit of gossip about Umbridge was that she resented Dumbledore because her daughter wasn't accepted at Hogwarts. I didn't have to listen much to find out that her name was Camilla. I wrote to her and explained the situation. She wrote back almost immediately that she would love to help. As I suspected, she was thinking of inviting him anyway."

"I'm confused," Anthony said. "How does Umbridge's daughter know Malcolm?"

"I'd like an answer to that one myself," Ron said.

"Boys!" Hermione said with exasperation. "Don't you ever talk to each other? Amber told me about Camilla during Malcolm's first year. He kept getting letters from her with numbers listed on them. When he met her, she weighed, well, I'm not sure but it was more than the three of you combined."

Harry smiled, "I remember now. Hagrid told me during one of my visits how he saw Malcolm yelling at some girl. He shouted that he could like her if she lost two hundred pounds. And those numbers were . . ."

". . . how many pounds she still needed to lose," Hermione confirmed. "Wait here."

Hermione ran to her dorm and came back with two photographs. "Camilla sent me these, to let me know why I shouldn't tell Malcolm. She wanted to surprise him. Here's before."

Harry, Ron and Anthony looked at a horrible photograph (all the more horrible because it was an excellent photograph) of a self conscious twelve year old girl who was almost as wide as she was tall. They quickly turned away.

"Here's after. The result of two years work, just because of Malcolm's snide remark. Camilla is the one on the left."

"Whoa," Ron said. "She looks great!" He saw Hermione's scowl. "I mean, it's quite an improvement. Really."

"Do you mind if I look?" Harry said. Ron reluctantly gave up the photograph, and Harry's mouth fell open. "This can't be Umbridge's daughter. She's . . . She's . . ."

"Careful, Harry," Ron whispered.

"She . . . Ron was right. It is quite an improvement."

"May I," Anthony said, and grabbed the photograph. He looked at it briefly, then looked at Hermione. "If this is the girl that Malcolm doesn't want to date, what does the other girl look like?"

"Well, she's short. She's twelve and looks ten. And she's part Veela. You can see her in the picture. That's Camilla, that's her boyfriend, Jean Paul, and that's Gabrielle."

"And she's twelve?"

"Almost thirteen."

Anthony smiled. "I don't feel so bad after all. At least I know I'm not alone."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"You do know that I'm fourteen?"

"You are? But you're so . . ."

Anthony scowled. "I know."

"Sorry," Ron muttered.

"Shall we go to the Hallowe'en feast?" Hermione suggested. "We need to let Dumbledore know about our guests."

Harry glanced at the fireplace, but no one noticed the resentful look on his face. "I think he knows already. I'll bet he was the one who had the two fireplaces connected."

Hermione sensed a touch of stress in his voice. "Then we'll simply have fun." She looked at Anthony. "All of us."

*

"Hi, Ginny."

"Hi, Dewey. I see you came for the Hallowe'en feast."

Dewey remained standing at the Gryffindor table. "Who were you talking to, outside. He looked familiar."

"It was a first year student. Don't worry about it."

"It was me," Dewey insisted as he became agitated. "I saw you talking to me. What am I doing here? How can I be in two places at once?"

"I'll take care of this." Professor McGonagall said as she walked forward. She ushered Dewey away from the Gryffindor table. "It seems that you are going to fall back in time," she explained. "The result is that you are already attending Hogwarts."

"Really? What house am I in?"

"Slytherin, I regret to say. But the important thing is that you must not know this has happened."

"But I already know," Dewey pointed out.

"Oblivate," Mcgonagall explained firmly. "Dewey, you didn't come here today. You were too tired and fell asleep."

A dazed Dewey simply nodded his head, when McGonagall suddenly noticed Peeves at his side.

"I will take care of him." Peeves said calmly and he walked Dewey out of the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall paused, as she looked around to make sure no one was following, then went after Peeves, but when she reached the corridor she saw no one. Peeves and Dewey had disappeared.

*

Malcolm looked fondly at Gabrielle, who returned the look. They stayed that way for several minutes.

"I don't know what to say, Gabrielle. I had so many speeches rehearsed and now they seem inadequate."

"Then say nothing," Gabrielle said. "I am only happy that you are here."

"You're English is great," Malcolm replied. "My French is terrible."

"I practiced because I thought I might have need."

"I didn't because it was useless. I was a fool."

"It was I who was the fool. I knew you understood my heart. I thought you would understand my mind."

"I didn't think. I should have known. I"m sorry. Please forgive me."

"I cannot. It is you who must forgive me."

"I'm sorry for interrupting," Camilla Umbridge said, "but the two of you sound like a couple in a romance novel. Why don't you stop worrying about who should forgive who. Besides the Cotillion is about to start."

Malcolm looked up as a man on a white horse strode into the guest hall. He was dressed all in brown with a crown of green leaves. He then shouted something about the king.

In a show of pageantry, the man dismounted and the horse was led away. He turned to the entranceway and shouted something else about the king.

At this point an old woman entered the hall carrying a small cauldron, the size that Malcolm used in Potions. As she slowly walked toward the man, Malcolm dared to ask what was going on.

"It is the celebration of the ancient feast of Samonois," Gabrielle explained. "Just as the sun is sitting the king of the old year rides in and announces himself. He looks out the entrance, and when he sees that the sun has set, he announces the end of his reign, of his life, shouting, "the king is dead."

Gabrielle pointed as the king took the cauldron and drank from it. "That is the Cauldron of Life. To drink from it is to restore someone who is recently dead to the land of the living. The dead king drinks, and is reborn as the king of the New Year."

Malcolm nodded. "So tomorrow is the first day of the new year?"

Gabrielle smiled. "Everyone asks that question. We are talking about our ancient ancestors, before the Romans came to Gaul. For them, the day ends when the sun sets. This was traditionally the celebration of the New Year."

"And the old year ends when the sun sets on the last day."

Gabrielle smiled to show he understood correctly. "In those days the celebration would last several days, but we are much wiser and limit it to one night."

Music had already begun, and the King of the New Year was dancing with the old woman who had brought the cauldron, signaling the beginning of the festivities. Other couples joined in.

"Shall we dance," Malcolm offered gallantly, and Gabrielle blushed as she took his arm. They danced with acceptable skill although Malcolm would never say how he managed a waltz. As they danced, Malcolm couldn't help noticing the people around them. Anyone close enough would make a comment.

[This is weird, but we're the only kids dancing. The youngest couple here looks about five years older, at least.]

The dance ended and the several couples paused to applaud, many of them turning toward Malcolm and Gabrielle.

"What's going on?" Malcolm whispered.

"Only those whose love are plaited are permitted to dance with the king," a comely lady answered in passable English. "Did you not know that?"

"No."

"Would you have danced anyway?"

Malcolm looked at Gabrielle and they both smiled. There was another burst of applause and the king walked over and removed his crown, holding it over Malcolm's head."

"His crown is made of mistletoe," Gabrielle whispered. "Do you know what that means?"

"I know mistletoe," Malcolm assured her.

[Of course, it doesn't help that over a thousand people are watching us.]

[But if he kisses me quickly it will be over with.]

The hall erupted in applause.

*

"You have made a reputation for yourself," Jean Paul assured Malcolm as he handed the boy something to drink.

"Ugh. What is this?"

"Champagne. I thought it appropriate."

Malcolm looked surprised as Gabrielle calmly drank from her glass. "Aren't we too young to drink?"

"Perhaps," Jean Paul grinned, "so I removed the alcohol."

Malcolm smirked as Gabrielle frowned, but Jean Paul shook his finger at her. "You will thank me, little sister, once you know better. Every pleasure has it's price."

"Such as dancing the first dance," Camilla pointed out. "Malcolm, you do know that you have destroyed my little ruse."

"Your what?"

Ruse? It means a plan of deception. I told my mother that I wanted you to be MY date. When she reads about the Cotillion in tomorrow's paper, probably with pictures, she will know the truth."

[That mean that I'm dead. There's nothing I can do. Well, there is one thing.]

"Did you know that my brother Reese is an idiot. He never thinks about tomorrow. I think I'm going to follow his example."

"Bon Mot," Jean Paul cried. "It seems, at times, that your brother could be considered a genius."

[I won't tell him, but that is going a bit far.]

Malcolm turned to Gabrielle. "What would you like to do?"

"Find one of the smaller rooms. We have shown off for the adults enough."

"There are other rooms?"

"There are enough people to have different forms of music. I was hoping to find something more modern."

Camille pointed to an archway where several teenagers were exiting, and the foursome followed, to be stopped by a towering woman.

"Madame Maxime," the others said, and bowed, or curtseyed out of politeness. The Headmistress curtseyed in return, a formidable feat. "Your love has proven true once again," she said to Malcolm and Gabrielle. "You will then sit with me at the midnight feast?"

The two nodded with matching blushes.

Madame Maxime turned to the other couple. "Perhaps you will come to my table as well." She smiled when they both nodded enthusiastically. "If I know your hearts, I think you will want to visit the East Hall. Le Sorcerers Mal are performing there."

As she left, Camilla hugged Malcolm. "I love you after all. Do you know what you did? We are sitting at the high table. Only the best of society ever has a chance."

Jean Paul laughed. He explained in his thick accent, "You have made everyone jealous of the two planets."

"I don't understand."

Camilla smiled. "I saved an old picture, just in case." She flicked her wand and called out, "Accio, Photo," and caught the flying photograph a minute later. She showed Malcolm the picture. It was a photo of eight children. Six of them took up one half of the picture. Camilla, and, Malcolm assumed, Jean Paul took up the other half. "We were so big, someone said, we could be our own planets."

"Look," Gabrielle said as they passed by a window. Even Malcolm had to laugh at what they saw. Some of the younger students had decided to play Quidditch instead. An enterprising wizard spotted them as the light was failing, and instead of ordering them to stop, as any reasonable parent would do, he cast a variation of the Lumos spell. The Quaffle shone pale like the moon, as did the three hoops at either end of the field. The bludgers were red, the brooms for one team shown blue, and those of the other team glowed green. Most amazing of all was the snitch. It would glow for half a second every five seconds or so, leaving a yellow trail that reminded Malcolm of a supersonic firefly.

"That was probably Monsieur Fantaine," Camilla pointed out. "He is an excellent charms teacher."

The four found the East Hall to be exactly what they wanted, and a good time was had by all.