A/N: I want to thank Quantic7 for the review. For all of my efforts at proofreading something always slips by. I have corrected they error so that Malcolm did HAVE his cake. And he ate it, too.

I also need to explain something to Hazardess that I have explained in previous stories. I can post a chapter a day because the story is already written, except for last minute changes. The only times I have problems doing this are when I am rushed because of work, busy because of holidays and the invariable computer problems. Hopefully, I will be able to entertain you every morning for the next three weeks.

And a closing note to Hedlund, Malcolm will go to Diagon Alley in the chapter five. And chapter thirteen.

Chapter Four: Magical Mystery Tour

"Malcolm, get in here," Lois called out.

"I didn't do it," Malcolm said.

"I didn't accuse you of anything. Why? What did you do?"

"Nothing."

Really. I didn't do anything. At least anything she doesn't already know about.

"Then don't be so defensive."

"Ok," Malcolm replied. "What did you want?"

Lois smiled and Malcolm became nervous.

Don't worry about it. It's only a reflex action.

"Your passport arrived today."

"Passport?"

"You're going to England in two weeks. You need a passport."

Malcolm took the small booklet from his mother as a sinking feeling developed in his stomach. Everything was becoming real. He really was going away to school. He really would be leaving home. "Mom, this is a British Passport."

"That's right. You were born there."

Malcolm looked horrified. "You mean I'm really English?"

"It's not that bad, Malcolm," Hal chimed in. "You make it sound like it's a completely different country."

"Dad, it is a completely different country."

"You know what I mean. We speak the same language and all that. Isn't that right, Lois?"

"And it gets better," Lois told Hal. "Now that Malcolm has his passport, he can do his shopping for all his school clothes and stuff."

"Mom, no. I don't want to go shopping for clothes."

"Of course you do," Lois said cheerfully. "And you get to buy your supplies and your school books."

That's Right. MAGICAL school books.

"When do I go?" Malcolm asked excitedly.

"That's the spirit, Son," Hal told him. "If you can't get out of it, at least pretend you're enjoying it."

"HAL," Lois yelled angrily. "Malcolm, we've already made the arrangements. Mister Hagrid's boss sent us the instructions on how you can use the floo network."

"The what?"

Lois showed him the letter. "It's how wizards travel. You can use it to go to the Wizard Mall they have."

Malcolm's eyes got big. "Wizards have a Mall?"

"What did you expect? It's called Diagon Alley."

"Mom, this letter says I'm supposed to meet Mister Hagrid at 10:00 A.M. tomorrow. How did this Dumbledore guy know I'd have my passport by then?"

Lois smirked. "Who do you think sent it to you? He got your name wrong of course and we had to send it back, but they fixed it."

That's a relief. I'd hate being called Harry all the time. It might be a nice name but you never met my uncle Harry. This guy, Harry DiCaprio met him when they were kids, and made his parents change his name to Leonardo. Honestly, it's a true story.

"Thanks, Mom."

It was Ten o'clock in the morning, and Malcolm had carefully read the instructions. They lit a bundle of letters in the fireplace and Malcolm took a pinch of the powder, threw it on the flames, and said, distinctly, "Diagon Alley."

The flames shot up bright blue and Malcolm stepped into the fireplace remembering to keep his hands by his side as per the instructions. As he was whisked away, he said, "AAAHHHHHH!" Then he stumbled out of the fireplace into a tavern.

"Was that your first time?" asked an old man in a purple hat and matching robes. He had a distinctly British accent

"Uhn, Uhn," Malcolm answered in acknowledgment as he tried to stop shaking.

"And where are your folks?" asked another man, this one wearing an apron.

"Tom, let the boy catch his breath."

"I'm . . . supposed . . . to meet . . . Mister Hagrid," Malcolm said gasping

"MISTER Hagrid?" Tom laughed. "I know him. Never heard him called Mister before. Are you the one he was waiting for? You were supposed to be here at Ten this morning."

Malcolm looked at his watch. "It's still five to ten."

"You're daft, boy. It's almost five."

"He's not daft, Tom," the purple man said. "He's American. You heard his accent."

"American?" Tom laughed again. "You forgot to change your watch, lad. It may still be ten where you come from but here it's near to dinner time."

Malcolm frowned. Then he noticed someone come in from the street. He excused himself and walked over to the door, opened it and looked out as a double-decker bus passed by. He closed the door.

Ok, adjust for the time difference.

"What am I doing in England?"

"That was my Question," Tom the barkeep told Malcolm.

"I was supposed to go to the Mall. School Shopping."

"Do you mean Diagon Alley?"

"Yeah."

Malcolm noticed that everyone was watching him, and grinning. Including the people in the pictures.

Okay, at least I'm in the right place.

"This way," someone called from the back. "Ginny, don't lag, come along, all of you."

A red-haired lady came through a doorway in the back leading a brood of redheaded children of various ages. "Just passing through, Tom. Have to catch the Bus home."

"Have a safe trip, Mrs. Weasley," Tom called back.

Mrs. Weasley noticed Malcolm and paused. "He's a cute boy. Is he yours, Tom?"

"Not likely. Missus would have told me. He came out of the fireplace a few minutes ago. He's a bit lost."

"I'm not lost," Malcolm said. "I just don't know where I am. Look, if Mister Hagrid isn't here, just tell me how to get home."

"Just tell the fireplace the name of your house," Tom told him.

"Name?"

"Oops," someone said from behind him. Malcolm turned around to see two boys, obviously twins, grinning at him. It was a friendly gesture because everyone else was laughing.

"Are you muggle born by any chance?" Tom asked.

"Am I what?"

Mrs. Weasley spoke up. "That would be a yes." She held out her hand. "My name's Molly. What's yours?"

"Malcolm. Look, I'm sorry about all of this but I was supposed to meet Mister Hagrid . . ."

"Just call him Hagrid, dear."

"Ok, Mrs. Weasley, but he didn't tell me I was going to a different Time Zone. I got here early and I'm still seven hours late."

Tom smiled as Malcolm repeated himself. "He's from the States. He's supposed to buy his school things."

"Yeah," Malcolm agreed. "That's why I was supposed to meet Hagrid. He knows all the cheap places. And he's got my money."

Molly smiled and Malcolm immediately became nervous.

I told you, it's a reflex. But I don't know why it's kicking in now.

"I've got the perfect solution," Molly Weasley said cheerfully.

I think I'm about to find out.

"Tom, if anyone checks, tell them I've taken Malcolm with me. And I'll have Arthur inform the Ministry. We can send him home from the Burrow when we find out where he lives."

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. That saves me a spot of trouble." Tom told Malcolm goodbye and went back to work.

"And Malcolm," Mrs. Weasley said as she guided him out into the street, "I know what it's like, trying to make ends meet. If your mum doesn't mind, I have an extra set of everything from Fred's first year, and extra robes that even Ron has grown out of . . ."

Mrs. Weasley paused to raise her hand, and a large purple bus suddenly appeared, almost hitting a half dozen cars on the street. Malcolm couldn't help notice that the drivers of those cars, or any of the other cars, or even the people walking by, had not noticed the bus. Mrs. Weasley ushered everyone onboard and payed the fares, putting a handful of coins back into her purse.

Malcolm was steered to a bed and sat down on it, as Mrs. Weasley finished explaining all of the things she could do for him. "Of course, I need to talk to your mother first."

"You're doomed," the boy next to him said. As Malcolm looked up, a redhead his age but a good head taller held out his hand. "I'm Ron. I'm going to be a first year, too."

Malcolm shook his hand and gave his name, then went flying as the bus took off with a terrific lurch. He held on to his bed for dear life and looked over at Ron, who asked him, "You've never been on the Knight Bus before?"

"No would be an accurate answer. Is it always like this?"

"Don't you have buses where you come from?"

"Yeah, but they make sure the driver knows how to drive." Malcolm added, "AAHHH," as the bus made a sharp left turn.

If this is what magic is like, that word is going to become a major part of my vocabulary.

Ron pointed to the two twins laughing at him. "That's Fred and George. They're in their third year."

"I'm Ginny," a redheaded girl said as she jumped onto the bed on the other side of Malcolm. "Are you really going to Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, I got a letter and everything."

"But you're an American?"

"The Burrow," The driver called out as the bus lurched to a stop.

"Percy, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, off the bus now," Mrs. Weasley yelled, then turned to Malcolm. "This is our stop, dear. We'll have you sorted out in no time."

Malcolm gratefully got off the bus and got his first look at the Burrow.

This could be worth it. Magic is the only reason that house is still standing.

"Why are you going to Hogwarts if you're an American?" Ginny asked again.

"I'm not," Malcolm said. "I thought I was but it turns out I was born over here. Some place called Godric Hollow."

Malcolm couldn't help notice Molly Weasley's smile as it froze in place.

"Then why did you move to America?" Ginny wanted to know.

"Ginny," Ron said, "Don't bother Malcolm for his life story."

"Yeah," Fred and George said. "Wait until we get him inside."

"Arthur," Molly called as she opened the door.

"Right here, Dear," Arthur said. "I've only just arrived."

"Everyone has their books, but after buying Percy his owl, we didn't have enough left for Ron's wand."

"Not a problem," Arthur Weasley said. "He can use one of my old ones. They're still good enough for schoolwork."

Ron groaned quietly to Malcolm. "Another Hand-me-down. I don't have one thing new to take to school with me."

"New?" Malcolm said in return. "The last time I got something new was seven years ago. It was a brother. If I don't get hand-me-downs, it's the thrift store or the bargain basement."

"Now, boys," Molly Weasley said cheerfully. "You make everything sound so dreadful."

"I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley. We were only making fun. We know it isn't as bad as that." Malcolm turned to Ron and whispered, "It's worse," and both boys snickered.

"Who is this?" Arthur asked as he spied the stranger in his house.

"Arthur, this is Malcolm. He's going to be a first year with Ron. We met him in the Leaky Cauldron."

"That's nice. And why does he talk funny?"

"He's American, dear."

"Then why is he going to Hogwarts?"

"I asked him, Dad," Ginny offered. "He only lives there. He was born in Godric Hollow."

"Where you really?" Arthur said in surprise.

"Yeah."

"And when did your parents move to the United States?"

Get ready. When I tell them the truth, they're going to be all over me with sympathy. "Oh, you poor boy." "Oh, how horrible." Just watch. It's going to be disgusting.

"They died," Malcolm admitted. "I was sent to live with relatives in America."

OK, I admit I didn't expect everyone to just stare at me.

"But," Arthur Weasley said slowly, "your name is Malcolm."

"Yeah. That's what my parents named me when they adopted me."

They're still staring. This is starting to get creepy.

Arthur reached over and pushed up the hair that hung down on one side of Malcolm's forehead. "By Merlin's beard, Molly, there it is."

That does it. I'm officially freaking out.

"It's a scar," Malcolm yelled. "What is it with you people? Are all of you born crazy?"

"Harry?" Arthur said, almost whispering.

"NO," Malcolm answered. "I told you. It's Malcolm. My folks changed it when they adopted me."

"It is you," Arthur said. "It is him, Molly."

"Is it really him?" Ginny asked, staring in surprise at Malcolm.

"Is it really who?" Malcolm asked.

"He doesn't know," Molly explained. "He said he was living with muggles."

"No, I didn't." Malcolm countered. "That guy asked me if my parents were muggles and I asked him what muggles were. You were the one who said they were."

Arthur smiled. "We can settle this easily enough. Malcolm, are they?"

"Are they what?"

"Muggles, of course."

"WHAT . . . ARE . . . MUGGLES?"

"People who can not use magic. I should have asked if your, um, adoptive father is a wizard?"

"Definitely not."

"And is your mother a . . ." Arthur paused as he noticed the ready smile in Malcolm's eye, ". . . a woman capable of performing magic."

"No," Malcolm said, disappointed that his joke was ruined.

"And that is why," Arthur said expansively, "you do not know who you are."

"And?" Malcolm asked.

"And?" Malcolm asked again.

"Dad," Percy said, "you should tell him."

"Sorry, got caught up in the moment. Malcolm, everyone knows all about you. We call you The-Boy-Who-Lived."

"Oh," Malcolm responded. "I'm curious. How much do you know about me? Like, do you know about what I did last week, or two months ago at Lucky Aid?"

"Not at all, Malcolm. After your parents died, and You-Know-Who disappeared, we all knew you had been sent into hiding to grow up in safety."

Malcolm started breathing again. "And who is You-Know-Who?"

Arthur frowned. "That is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"And why don't we name him?" Malcolm asked in a manner that said I'm smarter than you are.

Arthur smirked at him. "Because names have power in the world of magic. You don't want to attract the attention of someone evil, do you?" He said the last bit in a manner that said no you're not, you're still a baby. "That could ruin your entire day."

"Fine. But why all the mystery. Can you tell me what happened to this guy?"

"That's easy." Fred shouted. "We don't know. He disappeared, too."

"He's probably dead," George added. "I wouldn't worry."

"Wait a minute," Malcolm said. "Nobody ever told me anything. I didn't even know about magic until two weeks ago. What did my parents do to this guy, anyway?"

Arthur led Malcolm to a couch and sat him down. Molly sat down on the other side of him. "Malcolm, there is more to tell than this but this is all I know. Your parents died before they could do anything. And they were more powerful than most witches and wizards. But this man we do not name was even stronger, and he seemed unstoppable. And then he tried to kill you, but something happened. He was caught in the power of his own spell and reduced to a pale spectre of what he had formerly been. Your parents' house was completely destroyed. And your only injury was that scar. It's the type of scar you get from surviving a deadly curse, the killing curse."

Now that's cool. I have a curse scar.

"Mr. Weasley, I hate to change the subject, but I don't know how to get home."

"How did you get here?"

"I took the bus."

"Odd. The Knight Bus doesn't go to America."

"No, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "He took the Knight Bus to the Burrow from the Leaky Cauldron. He came there by floo powder but he doesn't know the name of his house."

"I never thought to ask," Malcolm said

Arthur gave Malcolm a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I'll just pop on over to the Ministry and find out. I'll be back as quick as I can." He stood up and disappeared with a loud popping noise.

WOW. He meant that literally.

"Does it hurt to travel like that?" Malcolm asked.

"Don't be silly, dear. But don't try it either. Wait until you're older, and someone shows you how to do it properly."

"Okay."

Ron sat down as Mrs. Weasley went to prepare dinner. "Malcolm, this is amazing. We've heard stories about you all our lives."

"Tell him the best part," Fred urged his brother.

"Or shall we?" George asked

"You shouldn't harass Malcolm like that," Percy said. "He's a guest here."

"Percy's right," Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen. "Leave Malcolm alone."

"Hold it," Malcolm said as everyone else frowned. "Could you stop harassing me after you tell me the best part?"

"Malcolm, really." Percy said.

"Really, yourself. So far all I've gotten is my parents died horribly, I have a curse scar, I was sent to another country to grow up, I wasn't told anything about this, and on top of that, I have a ton and a half of money, and I can't touch a penny of it until I'm seventeen."

"A Knut," Percy said.

Malcolm stopped in the middle of his rant. "What is a Knut?"

"It's what you can't spend. A penny is muggle money, do you see?"

From the looks he's getting, his brothers think the same thing about Percy that I do right now.

"That isn't the point," Malcolm insisted. "The point is that no one has been able to tell me anything good. No one has ever said anything to me about me or my parents that wasn't followed by 'Sorry, Malcolm,' or 'That's too bad, Malcolm.' So if anybody has anything to say that they consider good, I want to hear it, even if they are completely wrong. Do you understand?"

Percy gave Malcolm an offended look, and walked away muttering, "I was only trying to help."

"Well?" Malcolm said as he looked at both the twins. "What's the best part.?"

"It's very simple, Malcolm. No one knows who you are." Fred fingered his hair. "It's supposed to be black."