A/N: Thanks to everyone who is reading. And to the reviewers, especially. As a note to Phoenix Skyborne, Yes and No. Big V always has his reasons but they're not always apparent, or logical. And thanks to Mandraco for reinforcing Malcolm's concept that maturity is overrated.

CHAPTER 3: HOME ALONE . . . ALMOST

David Winter smiled with amusement at Draco Malfoy. "And why are you here? I know you and your father do not see eye to eye, but surely your mother, in these trying times . . ."

"Mister Winter, you forget that my mother is married to my father. That should explain her to you. As for my being here, the weather in Britain is terrible this year and is expected to get worse. I had even rented a house within a healthy walk from the beach, but gave it up this morning."

David frowned. Draco had described the house that had suddenly become available. "You were renting Malcolm's old house? You're not old enough, even for muggles."

"According to my identification, I'm 23."

David sighed. "Courtesy of Malcolm, I assume."

"Made it myself," Draco said smugly.

"Ah, learning a trade. I'm proud of you, my boy. " David turned to Malcolm. "I may be by later to talk to your parents. You should warn them."

A popping noise was heard as the man disappeared.

"So, Draco, what happened with you and Ginny?" Malcolm asked as they began to walk to the street.

"That's . . . what I want . . . to know," Stevie added as he rolled along with them. "It's . . . because of . . . you two that . . . I learned . . . a new word . . . snog."

Draco laughed. "That won't happen much this year. Ginny's father received a promotion. He runs his own department now. And as a result, his security is that much tighter." Draco sighed. "No more trips to the beach. Not that the weather's all that great. What with all the dementors mucking it up."

Malcolm stopped in his tracks. "Dementors?"

"Yes. They've fled Azkaban and are wandering all over Great Britain. I read in the Daily Prophet that all that mist is because they're breeding."

Dewey gagged. "That's disgusting. And they're doing it out in the open."

"Right, Dewey," Malcolm said as he smacked his brother in the head. "They should go rent a motel room or something. Draco, that does sound disgusting."

"Why do you think I'm here?"

Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.

"We're heading over to see Lloyd and Belinda. Do you want to join us?"

"Only out of curiosity. I thought Belinda was 'grounded' for the summer?"

"Yeah, she has to do everything the normal way. No magic. No meals fixed by magic. No listening to the Wizarding Wireless. You know, like living at my house."

"You'll like it," Dewey added. "Belinda does a really good job of pretending she's happy."

"She'd . . . just . . . stuck up," Stevie said angrily.

Malcolm explained. "She won't let Stevie use his wheelchair around her. It's magically enhanced, and if her mom finds out . . . Her mom said NO magic."

"We're here," Dewey said as they approached a house with a lot of loud noise coming out of it.

"This can't be Belinda's house. Does Lloyd live here?"

"He lives down the street. This is Dabney's house. His mom's out of the country for . . . a while. It seems she forgot to get her Green Card renewed."

"Oh? Where is she originally from?"

"Here, but for some reason her records say she's from Argentina. It seems the INS picked her up a few months back and they deported her."

You know, I should go back into the State Department files and correct that change I made. Yeah, I should.

"What is that noise?" Draco asked as they walked up to the front door.

"Music," Malcolm answered casually, and opened the door.

"MALCOLM"S HERE," The call went out at once as everyone in the living room turned to look at the newcomers, and wave to Malcolm.

Draco frowned. For some reason it bothered him that Malcolm was so popular.

"Malcolm," Belinda said as she ran up and hugged him. "This was a great idea, hanging out where I can't do any magic anyway. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Where's Lloyd?"

"Over there." She pointed out a group of Krelboynes who waved. "They're discussing who their new teacher might be for next year. I better get back. If I get caught using magic, I could be going to school with them. Stevie, want to join us?"

Belinda gave a cute wave as she and Stevie went to join the Krelboynes.

That's why Lloyd and Belinda go well together. He doesn't understand how he should act around other people, and she has no idea how she acts around other people.

Malcolm pointed to the oldest person in the room, A young man of seventeen with scraggily hair and a wisp of a beard. "That's Johnny. Belinda's sister heard what happened and got him to come over every now and then to keep an eye on Dabney . . . since his mom's out of town."

Draco nodded. "And where is Dabney's father?

"Who knows," Malcolm replied as he led the way to the kitchen. "Dabney's mom is a control freak. For all I know, we could find his dad somewhere in the basement."

"This house has a basement?"

"No. Hey, Johnny, this is my cousin, Draco."

"Hey, Malcolm. Did you say Draco? That's a cool name. In some other language, Greek I think, it mean, 'DRAGON'. You want a beer, man?"

"Thank you, yes."

"Oh, cool. You're an English dude. Like your accent, man. Hey, Dewey. Run to the fridge and grab a couple of brewskies, okay."

Dewey mumbled something about house elves and walked off for the beers.

"Dude, there's a party tonight if you're interested?"

Draco's eyes lit up. "Where is the party?"

Dewey handed two cans of beer to Johnny who gave one to Draco. "Wet your whistle, man."

"Can I get one?" Malcolm asked.

"No way. Everybody knows about your mom."

"Thank you," Draco said as he popped the top. "And the party is where?"

"Here. Hey Malcolm, I worked it out. Did you know I'm livin' here now, takin' care of Dabney just like he was a little brother or somethin'?"

"Yeah, you told me last week when I got home."

"Oh, right. I always get you and Louis mixed up."

Draco frowned. "You know Louis Renault?"

"Yeah. He's a little jerk, but his dad, Greaser, is the best at fixin' up anything that moves. After I crashed my broom back in the winter, he had it flyin' just like it was brand new. Better than when I broke it. He does bikes, too. He IS the man to know. Greaser set me up with this job so that I could live here." Johnny gave them a stage whisper. "My 'rents threw me out, you know."

"But I'm confused. What kind of, um, job would permit you to live in someone else's house?"

Johnny smiled as he crushed his now empty beer can. "Want another, man. You're lookin' empty as well."

"No thanks," Draco replied handing over his old beer can. "It tasted funny, that. As though the butter turned."

Johnny signaled Malcolm to go to the refrigerator, then turned back to Draco. "This ain't butterbeer, it's barleybeer. And be careful, man, it's a lot stronger than you're used to."

Draco nodded thoughtfully as Johnny grabbed two beers from Malcolm and handed one to him.

Should I tell him he's missing a beer and that Dewey's missing as well?

"Thank you, and about this job."

Johnny grinned. "Home schooling."

Malcolm looked up in surprise. "I didn't hear about this."

"It's great. Greaser's got this friend in Social Services, big bike freak. We got Dabney listed as an abandoned wizardling in need of supervision. I see to it that he goes to his regular school and three nights a week I give him lessons in magic."

Malcolm's jaw dropped. "Dabney's learning magic? But Dabney's normal, I mean, he's a muggle."

Johnny shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't say he was any good, dude. And he knows, if anybody asks, to tell them he's a squib. An' don't you say anything either. Me and Dabney got a good thing going here. The State takes care of all the food, except the beer, and they pay me 500 a month to live here and watch the little guy. I give him a hundred as his cut."

Naw. I shouldn't tell him about the beer. It'd be better if another one disappeared. Johnny won't notice, if it's an even number.

"I'll be back, guys," Malcolm said, as Johnny continued to explain his new job to Draco, and walked off to the kitchen.

"Malcolm?"

"Hi, Dabney. When's your mom due back?"

Dabney's eyes smouldered as he said through clenched teeth, "Her visa was denied."

"At least Herkabe's with her."

"Malcolm, I've got a problem."

Great. Another Krelboyne problem.

"What is it?"

Dabney looked confused on how to start. "Maybe it would help if I showed you my bedroom."

"Fine," Malcolm said in an annoyed voice and followed him down the short hallway.

"That's my mother's room. We didn't do anything to that room at all. Just in case. Even though she's not here, I'm still scared of what Mom will do."

Malcolm frowned. "But Johnny said he was living here."

"He's sharing my room," Dabney admitted as he opened the bedroom door. He ushered Malcolm into the foyer and closed the door behind him as quickly as possible. He then led Malcolm into what appeared to be a combination den and library. The staircase curved gracefully up one wall ending at a balcony overhang at the second floor. It then continued on to the third floor where another balcony stood opposite the first one. The staircase then flowed onward and upward until it reached the fourth floor.

Not bad. Especially since Dabney lives in a ranch house.

"Johnny said he studied how to do this," Dabney explained. "He used my bedroom as practice. It still freaks me out a little, but I'm getting used to it."

"And this is your problem?"

"No, well, yeah, part of it. What's a squib?"

"It's, uh, a normal kid who's parent can do magic."

"That's how Johnny's paying for all this."

"He told me. But he didn't tell me about . . ."

This is amazing. That's a stained glass ceiling up there.

"I bet this room looks great during the afternoon."

Dabney began to cry. "Malcolm. I love all of this. The ceiling. The eight bedrooms. Even having to wear those stupid robes when I go shopping."

When he goes shopping? There's a magic mall or something around here?

"Then why are you crying?"

Dabney covered his tearing eyes with his hands.

"I don't want my mom to come back. If she does . . ."

Yeah. It's like he has everything. If his mom comes back he'll have to go back to being her house elf. And that's an accurate analogy.

Malcolm smiled as he had a brilliant idea.

"Dabney, you're covered. I've figured it out."

"Already?" asked a disbelieving voice. "It's not illegal, is it?"

"No, it's obvious. What do you know about your Dad?"

"Nothing. Mom always said he was dead. Or should be."

Malcolm smiled broadly as he led Dabney to the leather couch.

I really am a genius.

"You see, the government is paying Johnny to stay here, and they know he's a wizard because they're paying him in Galleons, Right."

"Yeah?"

"So that means it's being done by the Department of Magic, and they wouldn't do it if you weren't . . .

Here goes the big lie. Let's just hope he buys it.

. . . if neither of your parents weren't magical. And since we know it's not your mom then it must be . . ."

"MY DAD? But he's dead?"

"And that's why Social Services stepped in. It's not your fault you can't do magic. You can blame your mom for that. But the wizarding world won't abandon you if you've got nowhere to go."

Hey. That makes it two lies.

A strange look came into Dabney's eyes. "I should have realized. Thank you, Malcolm. I always knew there was something special about me." His face cast an eerie glow as he said with humble pride, "I'm a wizard who can't do any magic." He adjusted his glasses and looked up dry-eyed. "Can I show you around my room?"

"Sure. Say, how can Johnny afford all of this stuff? Like a real leather couch? It is real leather, isn't it?""

"You like it. Only 400 Galleons. With matching side chairs and coffee table, 850. For an additional cost, we can have everything done in dragon hide."

Malcolm's eyes lit up in recognition. "Your entire bedroom is a showcase."

Dabney laughed. "Everything's for sale. That's how Johnny got the place furnished. Everything in here IS for sale. That's why there's a party tonight. It's for customers." He waved Malcolm through the archway with little-boy glee. "Through here is the living room. If you notice, the Bay Window is set to Waikiki Beach. The controls can be set to automatically change to an alternate view because of inclement weather, time change or, in the case of certain beaches on the French Riviera, parental control lockouts."

"Can you get around the parental controls."

"Yeah, and you don't have to be a wizard. Stevie figured it out. Because of the time difference, the best hours are between 4 and 8 AM."

"So, where is your actual bedroom."

"On the fourth floor. Next to the indoor swimming pool."

"I wish I could stay here. Then, mother would never know where to look for me. Johnny, can I sleep on your couch."

"No need for that, dude. You can use one of the spare bedrooms upstairs."

"But this is a house only has one level."

Draco laughed as Johnny explained what he did.

" And I know it only has one floor. At least, when I came here it did. But, you know, I studied architecture in school but I never had a chance to use it. I mean I did. I had to make hiding places at home for my stuff. And I had to be good. My old man's an Auror, you know." Johnny leaned in to whisper. "You should know, man, if this party don't go well, I might want to crash on your couch."

Malcolm walked back down the stairs with Dabney. "This is a cool house. You are so lucky."

Dabney looked up. "Until my mom comes home."

"Who cares. After all, this is your room." Malcolm looked up at the stained glass ceiling four stories above. "Kind of. It's bigger than my whole house."

Dabney nodded his head and said with false bravado. "Yeah, it is my room."

The two boys left Dabney's bedroom and returned to the party already in progress

"Dabney, do you know my cousin Draco?"

"Hi."

"It's settled," Draco said as he shook hands. "I've rented a suite on the second floor for the modest sum of twenty Galleons a month."

"Uh, Draco, Dabney's been telling me about Johnny . . . and money."

"He told me. You Americans are truly amazing. He told me how quickly he built all of this, and how he managed to finance all of it. True, he's paying 390 Galleons a month for the next ten years, but that's because he did the work himself . . ."

Dabney was floored. "He's living on 10 Galleons a month? Why didn't he tell me?"

Draco smiled. "You might think he was a responsible person."

Johnny snorted. "Yeah. That would ruin my reputation."

Malcolm grinned. "Yeah, Dabney. Your mother was responsible for you for twelve years. I guess he thought you had enough."

It's true. I think Dabney's even developing a backbone.

"You mean he's actually an honest guy? I promise, I won't complain about those lessons anymore. I'll even try really hard to learn magic. And I'll be the best darned salesman I can be.

"Salesman?" Draco asked.