A/N: A quick note: Happy New Year, 2005 to everyone, except to those of you from Scotland. My facts-of-the-day tell me I should say Happy Hogmanay instead.

Chapter Twenty: Christmas

You'll never guess what happened over the past six weeks. Nothing. I mean, things did happen. We searched every book in the library for something on Nicholas Flamel. Well, Hermione did. Mostly I read up on three-headed dogs throughout history. And Ron searched all the books on Quidditch. He had this really good idea that the guy might be on one of the teams.

"Honestly, Hermione," Ron exclaimed, "It was worth a try. And I did as well as you did in your search."

"You're not even taking this seriously."

"What makes you think I can find anything if you can't."

Hermione smiled smugly at the compliment but would not be put off. "You saved us from the troll."

"Fine, Hermione. If Nicholas Flamel ever attacks the two of you in the girls' bathroom, I'll find him then."

Hermione smirked at Ron's answer and the argument was done with.

"Malcolm, are you staying for the holidays?"

Malcolm smiled. "Nope. I get to go home and visit the parental units. Since you already know that, why did you ask?"

Hermione looked at him innocently. "I thought because of the distance you might have decided to stay. Then you could help Ron look in the restricted section." Hermione paused. "Why is Ron smiling?"

"Ron isn't staying, either."

"But he told me his parents . . ."

"He's coming home with me."

"WHAT?"

She just found out that no one will be looking for TWO WEEKS. Like it would make a difference.

"So, Hermione would you like to join us. We're going by floo."

That caught her interest. She's never traveled the floo network before. And she's never been to the States. And she really wants to see her parents.

"Maybe," Hermione hesitated, "I could visit for Boxing Day."

"I'll tell Dad," Ron offered. "He can set it up before he leaves for Romania."

The five people entered the Leaky Cauldron. Malcolm immediately waved to Tom the bartender, who grinned in recognition. Tom pointed to the fireplace, and Malcolm and Ron walked over with their trunks.

"Thanks, Mister G, for the lift."

"Your car was interesting," Ron noted.

"Always happy to help," Hermione's father replied.

"Have a safe trip," her mother offered.

"At least it will be quick," Malcolm told her.

"See you in a few days," Hermione said as she hugged Malcolm.

"I'm fine," Ron said when she tried to hug him, making the Grangers laugh.

"Here we go," Malcolm said as he threw the floo powder into the fireplace and called out the name of his house. He stepped into the bright green flames and said, "AAAAHHHH."

"It's only Malcolm," Dewey said when his brother came out of the fireplace.

"It's nice to see you too, you little jerk. MOM, I'M HOME."

"Hi, Honey," Lois said cheerfully as she came out of the kitchen. "Is your little friend coming?"

"Little? Mom he's taller than Reese."

"Who's taller than Reese?" Ron asked as he stepped out of the flames.

"You are. Ron, this is my mom. Mom, this is Ron Weasley."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Ron. I've talked a lot with your parents. Dewey, don't eat that."

Dewey scowled as he took the partially chewed toy out of his mouth. He noticed Ron watching him and explained. "It'll spoil my dinner."

"Uh, right. So, Mrs. . . ."

"Don't bother with that. Call me Lois. That way I don't feel so old."

"Sure, um, Lois. Um, where will I be sleeping?" He showed his suitcase.

"Hal's fixing a place for you right now. HAL."

"I'M BUSY," Hal shouted back from somewhere in the house. He walked into the living room. "It's done. Malcolm's bed is back up, and I've set up the spare bed for Francis."

"And Ron's bed?"

"Who's Ron?"

Lois pointed over to the fireplace where Malcolm and Ron were still standing.

"Malcolm's here already? He's not supposed to be here until Seven."

"Dad, in London it's now Seven Fifteen. They gave you their time."

"Oh," Hal said as he dismissed the subject from his mind. "And this is your friend, Ron?"

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Ron said as they shook hands.

"And you're staying?"

"I was planning on it, Sir."

"Oooh," Hal said as he understood. "That's why we need five beds. No problem. It's taken care of. You can have Malcolm's bed. I'll set something else up for him." Turning to Dewey he added, "Son, show Ron where Malcolm's bed is."

"Mom," Malcolm asked as Dewey led Ron to the bedroom, and Hal ran off to 'do something important', "where were we going to sleep?"

"I tried to get Hal to put a space heater in the garage and screen off a section. I thought you two would like some privacy."

"What happened?"

"Your Dad forgot."

That means I'll be sleeping on the couch.

Malcolm nodded, and followed Dewey and Ron, but stopped at the doorway.

"That's Reese," Dewey said as he led Ron into the room.

"Malcolm?" Reese said as he saw Ron. "Is that you? You grew a heck of a lot. And your hair? Why is it red? Is it that magic stuff?"

"Go with it," Dewey whispered.

"Yeah," Ron said. "It's the magic."

"Oh my God," Reese cried out when he heard Ron's accent. "They changed your voice, too. I bet Mom was mad."

"She likes it," Dewey told him. "OW"

"No one asked you, runt. Now, shut up."

"Don't hit him," Ron said, stepping between the two brothers.

"Why?" Reese asked. "Is it your turn?"

"No. He's your brother. Would you like it if your brothers hit you?"

Reese looked confused. "Why would you care? Malcolm, this isn't some magic thing, is it? Like in that movie where you've got to be nice to animals and flowers and things like that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Ron turned his head. "Malcolm, what is he talking about."

Malcolm kept a straight face as Reese suddenly noticed him. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I never saw that movie."

"Malcolm?" Reese was staring.

"Reese?"

"Who's he?"

"He's Ron. My friend from school. He's visiting for the holidays." Malcolm gave his brother a curious look. "Who did you think he was?"

"He called me Malcolm," Ron offered, trying to suppress a grin.

"Reese," Malcolm looked appalled. "Did you actually think he was me?"

"No, of course not," Reese said nervously as he stepped backward. He tripped over Dewey's foot 'which just happened to be there' and fell backwards into the bookcase.

As Reese lay on the floor with the bookcase on top of him, he shouted for help. "Get this off me. I can't move."

"At all?" Dewey asked, and smiled as he picked up a large dictionary.

"Don't do it," Reese yelled. "If you do, I'll make the next ten years of your life complete hell."

"I can live with that," Dewey said, and dropped the book on his head.

Ron looked at the doorway as Dewey ran out. "Malcolm, you have an interesting family."

Ron stared in horror as he watched everyone eat dinner. The term 'feeding frenzy' came to mind.

"Aren't you hungry, son?" Hal asked. "Just grab something. Once it's on your plate it's officially yours."

Ron stared in disbelief. "You just grab . . . and . . . fight . . . for your food."

Malcolm paused and looked up at those words. A quick movement with his knife hand kept Reese from stealing his bread roll. "Ron, It's like each one of us is both Fred and George. If you want anything, you have to get it past them."

"Malcolm, now I'm afraid to even try and eat."

"You're pitiful," Dewey said, and gave him a helping of mashed potatoes out of sympathy. Then he whispered, "No one's looking. Grab some chicken."

"You're not having a good time," Malcolm asked after dinner.

"It's all so different. Is it because you're Americans or because you're muggles."

"Being muggle has a lot to do with it. Mostly, it's just the way we are."

Ron stared at everything. At the unkempt lawn. At the 'For Sale' signs that stood in the neighbors' front yards. At the way the police cars always slowed down as they drove by.

"Malcolm, is it always like this?"

"Like what?"

Ron paused to find the right word. If Hermione were there, she would have immediately chosen 'chaos'.

"Is it always so confusing?"

Malcolm frowned. "Is what always so confusing?"

"It's called life," a voice called out. "The answer is yes."

"FRANCIS." Malcolm was on his feet running down the sidewalk. At the last minute he stopped himself from hugging his brother. "Um, hey Francis."

"Master Malcolm. I see they let you out on parole. Do you have to go back or did you get thrown out?"

Malcolm snorted as they turned and walked back to the house. "I'm going back. It's really great, Francis. I can do all sorts of stuff. And this is my friend, Ron. His parents went to Romania to visit his brother."

Francis shook Ron's hand. "And what's your brother doing in Romania?"

"He's studying dragons."

Francis froze, his hand still holding Ron's. "Dragons? As in really huge, scaly and fire breathing?"

"Yeah."

"Malcolm?"

"Yeah. Dragons."

Francis turned back to Ron. "You just became my new best friend. Guys, let me say hi to the folks. Then I want to hear EVERYTHING about your school."

Ron gave a genuine smile for the first time since his arrival. "We'll start by telling you how well Malcolm can fly a broom."

Francis nodded, then opened the front door and threw his duffle bag inside. "Mom, Dad, I'm home. I'm outside with Malcolm." He closed the door, and turned around. "Let's go into the backyard and talk. Hey, either of you guys want a beer? I hid some in the garage."

Didn't I tell you. Francis is the greatest brother in the world.

"Francis? Non-Alcoholic Beer?"

"Don't complain. Tastes great and no headaches in the morning. Besides, it was on sale. Ron, you said that Malcolm flies?"

"On a broom. How do I get the cap off the bottle?"

"It's a twist off. Like this. Now about the broom?"

It was Christmas Eve. Almost midnight. The children were nestled all snug in their beds as visions of sugar plums danced in their heads. Two loving parents looked in on them and sighed happily. This, as you well know, has nothing to do with our story but it's nice to know there really are families like that.

The fireplace suddenly flared green flames, and a large bearded figure stepped out, carrying an equally large bundle behind him.

"Drat these small fireplaces. Ow."

"OK, Santa," Dewey shouted from the shadows. "I've got a gun and I'm not afraid to use it. Drop the bag and nobody gets hurt."

"I bet yer Dewey. Malcolm warned me about you." Hagrid turned on the lights to reveal Dewey standing there in pajamas he outgrew two years ago. "I thought so. Ye don' even have a fake gun. And look at yer tree. Father Chistmas already came and gone. Ain't that right, Malcolm."

"Yeah." Malcolm said from the couch. "I told you, Dewey. Mom and Dad lied to you when they said it was only them out here."

"Dang. I missed him again. I'll get him next year." Dewey snarled at Malcolm. "I would have shared the loot if you had helped."

Malcolm laughed as he got up. "Let me explain this to you, Dewey, in words you'll understand. You're stupid."

"OW. Don't hit me. It's Christmas. Santa won't give you any presents."

"Dewey, look at the tree. Santa already came. He's not going to turn around and take them back." Malcolm turned toward Hagrid who was adding to the gifts under the tree. "Who else is coming?"

"Just Ron's brothers. They were told to be ready at dawn. They should be here any minute." He paused to look at Malcolm and Dewey. "They like the idea of opening gifts in a real home. Yer mom's making this Christmas a little bit better for 'em." He threw a small package to Dewey. "Here's an early gift from me personally."

Ron stepped out of the bedroom as Dewey caught the package. "Did I hear that Fred and George are coming?"

"And Percy," Malcolm warned. "They're coming here to open their gifts. Then they'll go back and leave us to clean up the mess. Hagrid, are you staying?"

"I'd love to, but . . ."

"Great," Ron said. "I'll get your gift and put it under the tree."

"Now, wait . . ." Hagrid said, halfheartedly.

"Agrippa," Dewey shouted as he waved a Chocolate Frog (TM) Card. "I got a wizard card, and the picture moves and everything. Thank you, Mister Hagrid. I'm going to hide it in my favorite spot so I'll always have it."

Ron looked sadly after the departing figure. "I only need Agrippa and I've got the entire set."

The fireplace flared, and Malcolm shouted, "MOM."

"They're here?" Lois asked as she and Hal came out of the bedroom.

"WE'RE HERE," twin voices shouted as Fred and George came out of the fireplace. "Merry Christmas, everyone. And you too, Ronnikins." They smiled as the fireplace flared again. "AND HEEEERE'S PERCY."

The fireplace flared again and Percy Weasley stepped out, looking around in disgust. "Ma'am, did they bother you much before I arrived."

"Only me," Ron said as George and Fred continued to beleaguer him.

"Malcolm," a wide-eyed Reese asked in all the confusion. "Did they just come out of the fireplace?"

"Yeah. Ron and his brothers are really elves. Let me introduce you to 'The Big Guy'."

Reese followed as Malcolm led him to Hagrid but before anyone could say anything he fell to his knees and hugged Hagrid's boot.

"Santa, I'm sorry. I tried to believe in you but they kept telling me you weren't real." He turned and angrily pointed at Hal and Lois. "It's their fault. Punish them."

"I'm guessin' ye mus' be Reese. Malcolm told me ye were a bit daft."

"And exactly how is this different?" Francis asked.

"I don't know," Fred replied. "I've never seen the muggle ones."

"Do you have any?" George asked. "We could do a comparison test."

"Good idea," Fred remarked. "We can claim we're doing a parchment for muggle studies."

"Malcolm told me what muggles are. You guys actually study us?"

"No, it's just an excuse."

Francis nodded. "Anyway, what we need is in the backyard. Would either of you guys like a beer."

Fred and George smiled. "Francis you've just become our new best friend."

This was a great Christmas. Dewey got a bunch of candy and ended up getting sick. Francis ended up with Fred and George in the backyard shooting off fireworks. Dad somehow got stuck talking to Percy and no one would interrupt them. It turns out Mrs. Weasley made sweater for all of her sons, and for me too. Mine has a big M.

Anyway, Reese freaked out when I told him that chocolate Frogs were made from real frogs, then calmed down when Ron said that wasn't true. He freaked out again when Ron said they mostly used toads because they were cheaper. And the police came by because of all the noise the fireworks were making. And some government people from the Department of Magic came by and made most of the neighbors forget what happened. That part was really cool.

"I had a wonderful time," Hagrid said as he shook Lois' hand. "Thank ye for makin' me stay. And thank ye fer the cookies." He turned to Malcolm. "I fergot. There's one more present to give out." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture, handing it to Malcolm. It was a picture of a snowy owl. "She's waitin' fer ye when ye get back to school. Couldn't bring 'er through the fireplace, ye know."

"An owl? That's great. Thanks, Hagrid."

I almost hugged him for doing that. But if I did, Reese would have made some kind of remark.

Hagrid threw some floo powder into the fireplace and called out, "Hogwarts". He then ducked down and stepped into the flames.

"Finally," Hal said in exasperation. "That boy Percy is really annoying. It was like talking to my boss. Why didn't you boys help me out? I kept gesturing."

"It's my fault, Dad," Malcolm admitted. "I got your signals cross and told everyone you were having a great time."

The great thing is that everyone knows it's a lie and no one will ever admit it.

Lois looked around the living room at the piles of wrapping paper, the leftover food and the rest of the mess. "Hal? Where's Dewey?"

" He went into the fireplace with the Weasley Twins. Don't worry. They'll send him back."