Disclaimer – JKR owns the world and all the characters from the books. I'm just building a few castles in her sandbox.

Chapter 6

After three huge roast beef sandwiches, a hot bath, and a long nap, Malcolm was feeling remarkably better. At dinner, Hagrid told him the puppy was doing fine, and told everyone at the table what Malcolm had done last night. Malcolm felt his face burn as the faculty looked in turns amused, sad, and impressed. Madame Pomfrey, true to Hagrid's expectations, was furious that Malcolm had stayed out all night in the rain. She was only a little mollified when he said he'd already eaten and rested. It wasn't until she'd used her wand to check him for a temperature that her scowl softened.

"Good job with that newborn Mr. Smith," she said under her breath.

Malcolm just nodded. He wasn't sure why Hagrid and the rest were making such a big deal out of it.

Professor Hagrid braved the school nurse's wrath again by asking if Malcolm could take a look at the hellhound pup after dinner. When she started to object he looked down. "Lil' feller won't eat much. Malcolm's got a right touch with 'im, and he needs ter build up 'is strength. Don' worry, I'm keepin' 'im inside me hut."

Madame Pomfrey sighed. "Very well, Hagrid."

Professor Hagrid grinned, enormous white teeth contrasting with his coarse black beard. When they got up from the table Hagrid led Malcolm out to his cabin at the edge of the forest. As they walked through the deepening gloom, Malcolm noticed his boss was looking around carefully as they left the brightly lit castle.

"What's wrong, Professor Hagrid?" he asked quietly. For some reason he was loath to raise his voice.

"Nothin' really," Hagrid said hesitantly, "Jes want ter make sure th' Dementors aren't hangin' about."

Malcolm looked around in alarm. "I though Professor Dumbledore wasn't allowing them on the grounds?"

"No, no, he's not. We just, want to be careful, in case they stray. Not that they have, mind you. Just… pays to be careful." Hagrid wouldn't look Malcolm in the eye. Malcolm shook his head; the man was an awful liar.

"Have they been bothering the animals?" he asked quietly. He stopped walking and stared at Hagrid. "Is that why Ember miscarried?"

Hagrid waved a huge hand in an uncertain gesture. "Don't really know… but some of th' creatures seem tae be upset, like. Dementors are horribly unnatural, creatures of Dark Magic, you know. Stands tae reason th' foul things would… do… bad things just by being around, like." He sighed. "But until Black's found…"

"Who?" Malcolm asked.

"None of yer concern," Hagrid said suddenly. Malcolm let it drop, but decided to file that name away for future reference.

Inside Hagrid's hut, an old milk crate was sitting on the table. As Hagrid poked up the fire and started making tea, Malcolm looked over the lip of the crate. Inside he could see his old jumper with a small black ball of fur sticking out. He shook his head and eased his hands under the material. The eye cracked open again, a flicker of glowing green. Malcolm thought he heard a faint whimpering sound. He stroked a finger tip across the silky brow and the eye screwed shut.

"Yer got a deft hand wit' animals," Hagrid said as he put the re-warmed milk-and-oil mixture on the table. Malcolm frowned and dipped his forefinger into the greasy glop and brought it up to the delicate black muzzle. The head rose up and it immediately began licking at his finger.

"Yep, he's really taken tae ye," Hagrid said, a little sadly. "Looks like it thinks yer its mum. Reminds me o' poor little Norbert, it does."

Malcolm sighed. He had no idea what Norbert was, and truthfully he was a little scared to guess. "He won't take formula from you?"

"No, Firehounds are quite picky about feeding. That's why it's so hard ter get a breeding pair in captivity. The wild adults are too smart and too vicious tae handle, and th' pups as won't take food from anything but their parents. I think th' lil' feller fancies you as 'is mum."

"Oh hell," Malcolm said, dismayed. "I didn't think it would bond to me like that."

"Well, what yer going tae expect 'im tae do? Yer th' firs' thing in th' world 'e sensed. Ye got him to air, ye cleaned him up and made him warm… It's nae surprise," Hagrid sniffed. Malcolm noticed his speech got thicker and thicker as he grew more emotional. It was a little embarrassing, but the gigantic man didn't seem to care. "Nae, ye did th' right thing, Malcolm. If ye hadn't, th' poor lil' thing wouldn't 'ave stood a chance."

"Well, this is going to be a little awkward."

"Don't ye be worrying about that," Hagrid said firmly, he looked up and took a deep breath. "That's th' only Firehound in a public preserve in Britain. O' course, there's stories about some being kept by old families tae guard their houses, but them are likely Dark as not. Don't want to think about how they treat their animals." Those beetle-black eyes flashed angrily and Malcolm froze for a moment, startled by the sudden mood change. He realized he didn't ever want to see Hagrid catch someone abusing one of his charges. Ever.

"Anyway," Hagrid continued, "jes' take care o' that pup. That's more important than anything else ye could be doing."

"Okay," Malcolm agreed, "but what about after the term starts?"

"Well, if he isn't eatin' on his own by then, we can make some arrangements. Professor Dumbledore, he'll see tae it. Great man, 'e is."

"Uhm, Hagrid, I don't think we want people to know about me coming out here early. It might get people asking questions, you know…" Malcolm swallowed. Dumbledore had been quite emphatic that he not say or do anything to draw attention to himself once the term started. Too many people asking questions about him would endanger the cover identity his father had set up. While he hadn't developed much of a relationship with his father, Malcolm had started to understand why the man was so secretive and... cold.

Professor Hagrid nodded thoughtfully. "Well, if ye get yerself intae a bit o' trouble, say enough for a detention, I could ask that ye be sent tae me tae serve it. Worked well enough for Harry and Ron that one time…" Hagrid clamped him mouth shut and actually looked a little embarrassed.

"That's pretty sneaky, Professor," Malcolm said with a grin. "So how much hell do I have to raise to get a detention around here?" he asked with a grin as he wetted his finger again with the warm glop and brought it back to the puppy's mouth.

Scene Break

As September First approached, Malcolm was almost sorry to that his informal apprenticeship was ending, even as he anticipated the start of his magical education. He hadn't gotten to exercise much at the Placement Center, but all the running around he'd done in the Forest was doing good things for his endurance, not to mention his muscle tone. The excellent food served in the Main Hall, combined with the exercise, was giving him an incredible appetite, and he noticed a few professors smiling faintly at him during meals. Professor Hagrid, of course, encouraged him to eat his fill, as he considered Malcolm to be 'a bit weedy still'.

On the last day of August, Professor Dumbledore spoke to Malcolm after breakfast. The old man seemed frustrated about something, but the twinkle was still there in his eyes as he asked Malcolm to follow him to his office.

After ascending several flights of stairs, Malcolm grinned as the gargoyle pivoted to let them pass. The headmaster raised an eyebrow at the boy.

"I read that the head of the KGB had the entrance to his office hidden behind a bookshelf or something," he said.

"Did he now? I've always been amazed at what non-magical folk come up with," he smiled, "I have a friend at the Ministry who spends all his free time examining their artifacts, trying to figure out how it all works." As they entered his office he sat behind his desk with a sigh. "Lemon drop?" he asked.

Malcolm nodded, taking one to be polite. The headmaster smiled at the face he made immediately after popping it into his mouth. It was incredibly sour, and it was all he could do not to spit it out into his hand. He wouldn't be making that mistake again.

"The simplest way to have you arrive at school would be to move your trunk to the cellars. The house elves can place it in the correct dormitory after you have been sorted. I have constructed a port-key that will take you to Platform nine and three-quarters, where you will board the Hogwarts Express with the other students. The professors and staff know that your presence here during the summer is not to be discussed. I cannot impress upon you how important it is, for your own safety, to not reveal the things we have discussed about your past."

Malcolm nodded. "Don't worry; I'm not going to break operational security."

The headmaster looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Do you have any questions regarding these arrangements?"

"Yes, I have two. First, the Firehound puppy. It still won't accept formula from anyone but me. We think it might have bonded to me as its substitute mother or something," he waved his hands in frustration. "I'm going to have to keep feeding it or it isn't going to make it."

Dumbledore frowned. "I am glad you were able to salvage something out of such a tragic loss. The exchange with Durmstrang may have been a unique opportunity, but this is going to complicate things. If it were a little larger, we could just make an exception for it as an unusual magical pet."

"Well, Professor Hagrid mentioned I could continue doing feedings under the cover of a detention."

Dumbledore smiled, a little broader now. "I imagine that he would remember that. That is possible if it is acceptable to you. Your devotion to a helpless creature speaks volumes about your character, Malcolm. I am glad to see my decision being vindicated before the term has even begun."

Malcolm ducked his head as he felt his face flushing.

"Try not to do anything too outrageous to earn your detention, Mr. Smith," the headmaster said with a twinkle in his eye. "Now, what was your second question?"

"Ah," Malcolm said, straightening up. "What is a port-key?"