A/N: As an explanation to those who are confused by what happened in the last chapter, here is the simple explanation. I couldn't decide who Malcolm should meet first: Ron or Hermione. So I started writing it both ways. Having written it both way, I decided to post it both ways. My inspiration for this was the Bowling episode in MITM's second season.

The problem with writing this story, as opposed to the other Malcolm stories is that I have to follow canon. In the other stories, all I had to do was acknowledge that canon existed. Certain things have to happen and in a certain order. All that leaves me in some cases is to copy the plot with a few snide comments thrown in. This way, once I get back to Halloween, I have to make sure the rest of the story compliments both versions of the past without contradicting either of them. I did it to challenge myself. And it seemed like a fun idea at the time. I'm still finding things in the later chapters that I have to change. I hope that you enjoy the results.

Chapter Thirteen: Diagon Alley

"Do you know what happened?" Mrs. Granger asked as she glanced in the kitchen. Hermione was laughing as Malcolm regaled her with stories of his brothers. "Yesterday they wouldn't say two words to each other without making some remark."

"Except for dinner," Mr. Granger answered. "They didn't say two words to each other, period." He traded grins with his wife. "Who knows what goes on in the minds of children their age. We should only hope that it lasts."

"He was in Hermione's room last night until almost midnight. They were going over their school books together. Malcolm is smarter than he lets on." They shared knowing looks. "I called his parents last night to let them know he was fine. His father answered and I asked him."

"And he said?"

"He has an IQ of 165. What do you think about that?"

"Don't tell Hermione. If she finds out . . ."

Mrs. Granger nodded toward the kitchen. "She knows. Dear, what if the entire school is like that?"

"Then we will never go to parents night." Mr. Granger sighed. "It's time to risk my sanity again." He walked into the kitchen. "And how are the two of you doing?"

"Dad, Malcolm was telling me wild stories about his brothers."

"Those stories are true," Malcolm protested.

"As smart as you are, do you honestly expect me to believe that you have a brother that stupid? It isn't possible."

"It is if I'm adopted," Malcolm said with a smirk.

I know it's stupid to tell her, but the timing was too good.

Hermione started at the remark and realized Malcolm was serious. "Of course. That explains why you have a British passport."

Malcolm nodded. "I was sent to live with my uncle, in the United States, and he adopted me because he thought it would be better for me."

"That was a kind gesture," Mr. Granger said. "It shows he really cares for you, Malcolm."

"I don't know," Malcolm said. "If he really cared, he would have put Reese up for adoption."

Mr. Granger noticed Hermione was getting ready to ask a question, and knew his daughter well enough to know what the question was. He decided to change the subject.

"Hermione, Malcolm, did you want to go to Diagon Alley?"

"Malcolm," Hermione asked as they drove toward London. "May I ask a personal question?"

"Hermione," her father interrupted, "I don't think it's appropriate."

He's right, but I brought it on myself, just for a quick laugh.

"Mr. Granger, It's an honest question. But I'll refuse to answer if you'll honestly admit that you're not curious."

"You have me in a corner, Malcolm. But I will listen to your answer if you truly have no objection."

"I haven't even asked my question yet," Hermione said.

"You want to know what happened to my parents." Hermione nodded and Malcolm continued. "First off, I only found all this out a month ago, and there isn't much to tell." Malcolm smiled wryly as he knew what Hermione's reaction would be. "My parents could do magic . . ."

Hermione gasped. "Your mother was a witch?"

"And my father was a wizard," Malcolm noted. "And this is the sad part. A bad wizard was going around killing people, and . . . He blew up our house. My parents died and they found me in the rubble. And I already told you the rest."

"I've read about those times," Hermione said with surprising sympathy. "A lot of wizards and witches died, or just disappeared."

"You know what's weird," Malcolm said. "I asked how many people were attacked after my parents died. The guy wouldn't clarify what he said but he told me that only one other couple was attacked, but that was different. He did say that his son lived too."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "The Boy-Who-Lived."

"Who?"

"He's the Boy-Who-Lived. When the evil wizard, He-Who-Must-not-Be-Named, attacked that other boy, something happened and he was destroyed by his own spell."

"I never heard about that?" Malcolm nodded. "I guess that was different."

"He's supposed to be coming to Hogwarts," Hermione said. "His name is . . ."

"Hermione," Mr. Granger said. "I think Malcolm has answered your question. Why don't we talk about happier things."

"I hope he's as nice as you," Hermione said in closing.

Hermione had to show off what she knew. After her father parked the car she had Malcolm stand with her on the street corner. It took him five minutes to figure it out.

"Are they ignoring it, or is it invisible to them?"

"Dad says it looks like a blank wall to him. They don't even know it's there."

"Cool. Can you see it now, Mr. Granger?"

"No, but I know it's there. I'll see it as we walk up to the door."

They crossed Charring Cross Road and walked through the door into the Leaky Cauldron. "Whoa," Malcolm said moments later as he looked over the crowd. He had seen one of the pictures on the wall and the man in it was moving. The man, a Cavalier, noticed him watching and tipped his hat.

"Muggles," a man in purple robes and a matching hat said. "They're so much fun to watch."

"Muggle twins?" the man across from him said in surprise. "That's rare."

"Malcolm," Hermione said, grinning at the remark about being twins, "You're staring. Come on."

"I bet you stared," Malcolm said as he followed her.

"Definitely, but I came during the week, when it wasn't crowded."

Hermione's father led the way through the Leaky Cauldron and out the back door. "Hermione, it's time for you to show off, again."

Hermione grinned and pulled out her wand. She tapped it against the wall and it slid aside to reveal Diagon Alley. She turned to Malcolm. "Shall we go?"

Malcolm was full of questions. "What's Quidditch? They sell Quidditch supplies there."

"Some kind of sport."

"Those are owls?"

"That's how wizards and witches send their mail. Isn't that how you got your letter?"

"No. Mine was hand delivered. I guess it was too far for the owls. What's Gringotts?"

"The Bank. That's where we're headed." Hermione told him. "You did bring money?"

"I'm supposed to have an account at the bank."

"How did you manage that?"

Malcolm paused.

"I think my parents arranged it."

"How did they manage that?" Hermione paused than frowned. "Sorry. I thought you were talking about your American parents."

"I know," Malcolm said with a friendly grin. "Anyway, this guy Hagrid said they would have the key to my safe."

Hermione was impressed. "Is Hagrid the family accountant? Are you rich? You must be?"

"I'm not rich. Hagrid was the guy who delivered my letter. He works at Hogwarts. I guess he had something to do with it. My parents talked with him for a long time."

"And the safe?"

Malcolm shrugged his shoulder. "Here's the bank. Let's find out."

Hermione readily agreed but gave him a warning. "Don't be surprised by what you see. The bank is run by Goblins."

Malcolm looked surprised and began walking faster. He went through the door and stopped. Tables were all over the place with piles of gold coins and small ugly men, the Goblins, counting them. Wizards and witches were walking up to them then going through another door. Malcolm pointed them out. "I think everyone has a safe."

"Can I see your safe, when you go?"

"Sure."

Mr. Granger took charge and steered the two children to one of the counters. "This is Malcolm. He needs to get money from his safe." He smiled as Malcolm and Hermione stared at him. "I talked to your mother, Malcolm. She explained everything to me."

"Does Malcolm have his key?" The Goblin asked from his high desk.

"Hagrid left it here for me," Malcolm said, as the Goblin simply waited. He took out his passport and handed it up. The goblin looked at it and nodded, then handed it back. He called out to another Goblin and told him he needed the key that Hagrid left. The other Goblin scurried off and returned with a key.

"This is the key to Vault 713," the Goblin said. "I need the other key."

The other goblin ran off and returned with another key, and a rolled parchment. The Goblin read the parchment, then looked at the humans standing below his desk. "This is a set withdrawal. I will return shortly."

After a few minutes, the goblin with the key returned with a small pouch. He put the key in a drawer and closed it, then read from the parchment and looked up. "Your name is Granger? You have already purchased some of the boy's school supplies?"

"Yes, when I brought my daughter to buy her things. I have the receipts"

"The amount was Two Galleons, Eight Sickles and Five knuts."

"Yes," Mr. Granger said in amazement, as the goblin reached into the bag and pulled out the exact amount. He handed it to the man, then gave him another handful of coins. "That will cover the cost of his robes and his wand."

"Excuse me," Malcolm said as the goblin sat the pouch on his desk. "Don't I get a say in this? It's supposed to be my money."

The goblin looked with amusement at the parchment he was still holding. "According to this, your mother says no. You would only spend it on junk." The goblin looked highly amused. "She did agree to let you have this." He handed Malcolm two sickles.

Malcolm looked at the two small silver coins in his hand, and the large bulge of gold coins in Mr. Granger's pocket, and grimaced. From the corner of his eye he saw the goblin laughing at him. He shoved the coins in his pocket. "You said it was a set withdrawal. What does that mean?"

The goblin kept his grin. "It means we don't take you down to your parents' vault so you can help yourself. We only give you what they tell us in advance to give you." He showed Malcolm the piece of parchment.

Yeah. That's Mom's signature. I like her attitude though. She can't spend it. Why should I?

"Can I have my key, at least?"

"Yes. When you are seventeen."

"Excuse me," Hermione asked. "Do you always keep the keys to the safes?"

"Only when we are asked to, or when a safe has been emptied." The Goblin looked at Malcolm. "I'll see you in six years."

"Yeah, Thanks for nothing," Malcolm said as he walked away.

"Malcolm, Shall we get your robes?"

Great. I'm told I can't have any money, and now I have to shop for school clothes. An hour ago I was thinking that magic was wonderful.

Malcolm spent a wonderful hour at Madam Malkin's Robe Shop, waiting his turn then being measured and fitted. Hermione was as annoyed as he was. She had to stand around and wait for him despite repeated request to go to the book store. Malcolm noticed the other kids there also looked as happy as he was. Finally he was told he could leave, and the three left to visit Ollivander's Wand Shop. This was what Malcolm had been waiting for, ever since last night when Hermione showed him her wand and the spells she had been practicing.

Malcolm was daunted when he first saw the shop. It looked old and run down . . .

It probably hasn't been cleaned since 362 BC.

. . . but Hermione dragged hin inside before he could make a comment. Inside was musty with rows and rows of long thin boxes all through the place, and a single chair. Malcolm heard a small bell ring as they entered, and then they waited until an old man suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Good Afternoon." He looked at Hermione and smiled. "Back again already, Miss Granger. Nothing happened to your wand, I hope. It was such a nice one, Oak, twelve inches with a Dragon Heartstring at its core."

Hermione actually giggled and pulled her wand out to show him. "We came so Malcolm could get his wand. He's going to Hogwarts too."

"The wand chooses the wizard, young man." Ollivander looked at Malcolm with a knowing eye. "Hermione said your name is Malcolm. Is that the name your parents gave you when you were adopted?"

Malcolm's surprise was reflected in Hermione's face, and Mr. Granger's as well. "Uh, yeah. How did you know about that?"

"Because I know who you are, Master Malcolm. You have your mother's eyes." Ollivander sighed. "It seems like only yesterday she was in here buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches, made of willow. A nice swishy wand, excellent for charm work."

"You knew my mother?" Malcolm was amazed, and nervous as Ollivander watched him with his silver eyes.

"Indeed I did. Now your father was different. His wand was Mahogany, more powerful, and good for transfiguration."

"Malcolm," Hermione whispered, "your parents really were a wizard and a witch?"

"Did he tell you?" Ollivander asked, but he obviously was not surprised.

Hermione and Malcolm nodded.

"Do you know how your parents died, Malcolm?"

"Y-yeah, Hagrid told me. You-Know-Who killed them. I was told he killed a lot of people."

"He did," Ollivander said sadly. "But he met his downfall when he faced one particular family."

"You're talking about the Boy-Who-Lived," Hermione said. "I told Malcolm all about him."

"Yes, I am," Mr. Ollivander replied. "The interesting thing is that He-Who-Must -Not-Be-Named suffered his defeat, and the young child he faced suffered only a scar." At this he moved his hand and pushed aside the thatch of hair that covered one side of Malcolm's forehead, and revealed a scar shaped like a lightning bolt.

Hermione sat down in the chair. "You? You're the Boy-Who-Lived."

"I am? I only found out I was adopted when I got my letter," Malcolm admitted. "And no one told me I was anyone special. I thought I just had a lucky escape."

Ollivander cleared his throat. "You did. A very lucky escape. But these are happier times, I should point out. And Malcolm needs his first wand." He went to fetch a box and handed it to Malcolm as he described it. "Well? Give it a wave."

Malcolm waved the wand and watched in amazement as sparks fizzled out of the tip.

"No, that won't do." Ollivander chose another box and handed the wand to Malcolm who waved it with a sense of expectation. "I'm afraid not. Here, try this one."

The pile of wands slowly grew until at one point when Hermione asked, "Dad can I wait for you at the book store?"

"Can I go, too?" Malcolm asked as both Mr. Granger and Mr. Ollivander chuckled.

"I have a thought," Mr. Ollivander said, and went into the back and returned with another box, which he was wiping the dust off. "Try this one. Holly and Phoenix feather. Eleven inches. Nice and supple."

Malcolm took the wand and gasped. It felt different. He gave it a wave and was surprised when a stream of Scarlet and Gold stars flew from the tip of the wand. "That was great."

Ollivander nodded solemnly. "I was afraid that might be the case."

Afraid? Did he just say Afraid?

"What's wrong with this wand?"

"Nothing, Malcolm. In truth, the fact that this wand chose you is proof that you are destined to become a powerful wizard."

"How do you know that?"

"I remember every wand I have ever sold, young man. And every wand I have ever made. The phoenix whose feather resides in your wand gave only one other, and its brother wand is the one that gave you that scar. The man who has that wand did great things with it. They were terrible, but they WERE great."

This guy is a regular killjoy. Now I'm going to be scared to ever use this.

Mr. Granger paid for the wand and, sensing the mood of the children, quickly ushered them out of the shop.

"Malcolm, I was actually scared in there," Hermione admitted.

"YOU were scared? I wanted to leave that wand behind."

"Malcolm, Hermione, I admit Mr. Ollivander was a bit spooky, but he was talking about history. We need a change of subject. I think I saw an Ice Cream Parlor near here."

Yeah. That changed my mood. I want a chocolate sundae with raspberries and nuts.

Mr. Granger sighed with relief as the two frowns in front of him became instant smiles, and stayed that way.

"Mr. Granger, was there any money left after you paid for everything?"

"I'm afraid not, Malcolm. The, um, man at the bank gave me the exact amount I needed."

Dang.

Mr. Granger noticed the matching half frowns on their faces. "Your mother was right Hermione. The two of you do act alike. You could be twins."

Hermione and Malcolm stared at each other.

I know what you're thinking and you're wrong. It is not funny.

"Dad, we are not alike. We are as different as night and day."

"I believe you, honey."

"But we are."

Malcolm smirked. "I guess that's why we're fraternal twins."

Hermione glared at him. "Don't you start."

"Ok, Sis."

"MALCOLM? Dad, he's doing that deliberately."

"I know, Honey." Mr. Granger was smirking. "Malcolm, don't tease your sister."

Hermione stopped and stared at her father's comment. Then a smile formed on her lips. "Dad's right, Malcolm. It's my job to tease you."

Okay, so it is funny.