A/N: I do apologize to Muggle1 for writing such short chapters. Despite my efforts to restrain myself from making any snide comments, I must add that the chapters are long enough, you're just reading them too fast. (Isn't that like the Emperor's comment in AMADEUS? There are too many notes. Just cut a few and it will be perfect.)

I also thank Ouatic-7 for pointing out my spelling error. It has been corrected.

I also want to thank Jongluer and Mandraco for their reviews and everyone else for taking the time to read all of this.

CHAPTER 8: Louis Through The Looking Glass

Dewey arrived at Dabney's house to see Louis waiting outside for him. "You ready?"

"Sure. Let's get this over with."

"Everybody should be here by now. I'll point them out to you."

Louis ( dressed as Malcolm) and Dewey stood just inside the front door of Dabney's house.

"That's Dabney," Dewey pointed out.

"I know who he is." Malcolm, as Louis was learning to refer to himself, answered brusquely.

"Yeah, well just remember. He thinks you're a great guy, but you can't stand him."

"So I ignore him?"

"No. He's one of your best friends." Dewey ignored the look of disbelief. "He's talking to Lloyd and Belinda. Lloyd's another close friend of yours. You can't stand him either."

"And Belinda?"

"She's Lloyd's girlfriend. She's a witch and you don't like her."

"And she's also a close friend of mine?"

"No. She's a groupie."

"I've got groupies?"

"Go figure."

"That's Kyle."

"The one that looks like the top of a pencil?"

"Yeah, he's another friend of yours. He's talking to Alex. He's a groupie."

"And I can't stand either of them?"

"Yup."

"Dewey, do I have any friends that I actually like?"

"Stevie."

Malcolm was confused. "Which one is Stevie?"

"I . . . am," said a voice from behind them. "Dewey. What's up . . . with . . . Malcolm?"

Dewey made introductions. "Malcolm, this is Stevie. Stevie, don't tell anybody but this is Malcolm, until Malcolm comes back."

Stevie was immediately concerned. "And where . . . is Malcolm?"

"Oh. Here." Malcolm answered.

"It's not a test," Dewey said with annoyance. "Malcolm disappeared. We're trying to hide the fact from my mom." Dewey clued him in on the excuses they had made for his brother's strange behavior.

"Under . . . stood. Is anyone . . . looking . . . for him?"

"Draco. But don't hold your breath. I'm coaching Malcolm on who he likes."

"That's . . . easy. No one."

Malcolm nodded. "I get the picture. And I hang with these guys?"

"All the time," Dewey said with a smile. "Have fun. I'm going swimming."

Stevie looked up at Malcolm. "Welcome . . . to . . . the party. Follow me."

Malcolm followed as Stevie rolled across the room toward Dabney and Lloyd. When they reached the group Malcolm smiled. Hi, Dabney, Lloyd, Belinda."

All three gave him a strange look.

Malcolm whispered to Stevie. "What did I do wrong?"

"You were nice to them," Stevie whispered back.

"Stevie?" Lloyd asked.

"Malcolm . . . has a . . . magic cold. It makes . . . him . . . act funny."

Everyone nodded in understanding and Dabney and Lloyd went back to their argument on Quantum Mechanics. Stevie joined in on occasion while Malcolm simply nodded. He saw Belinda watching him.

"Hi. Are you following all of this?"

"Not a word." Belinda smiled. "I just love listening to Lloyd talk about how smart he is."

"Un, yeah. He is smart."

Belinda snorted. "You're funny when you're nice."

"Don't worry. I'll get better soon."

"Malcolm," Dabney interrupted. "Will you settle this argument? Does Schrodinger's Cat have any practical application to Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle?"

Everyone looked at Malcolm. Stevie tried to mouth something but he couldn't follow it.

"I never really liked cats. I'm going to find Dewey."

Malcolm beat a hasty retreat to Dabney's bedroom, ignoring the stares he was receiving.

"Francis," Otto called to the young man. "Have you got der horses ready?"

"Almost. A lot of people are riding today. There are only three left in the stable."

"But ve need four." Otto raised his hand forcefully. "You are Ranch Manager. You vill take care of it. I vill be in mine office if you need me. Better yet, I vill be making moonshine mit Gretchen so ve vill not vant to be disturbed."

"Moonshine?"

"Ya. You take potatoes und let them ferment."

"Otto. You use corn."

"Oh. Never mind. Ve vill think of something else to do."

Otto slipped away, leaving Francis in the lurch.

"Young man," the wizard called as his partner and their wives apparated into the lobby. "We're ready to ride. Have our steeds been prepared."

"Yahoo," His companion said in what he thought was true western fashion.

"Sir," Francis corrected. "You say that after you mount the horse."

"And where is the fearsome beast?"

Francis led the four to the stables and showed them the three horses already saddled. "We're waiting for another horse to come in but it may be a while."

"Francis," Piama called from the stable entrance. "Pete's up on the roof again."

"Excuse me," Francis called. "I'll be right back with the other horse but I need to ask. "Are any of you afraid of heights?"

"Stevie," Malcolm asked later that day. "How is it that I like you. I figured with you being a cripple and all . . ."

Stevie turned his wheelchair around to face Malcolm, then elevated himself so that he could look the other boy straight in the eye."

"That . . . doesn't . . . bother Malcolm." Stevie was angry. "He looks . . . inside . . . a person."

"But he doesn't like anyone else? All those Krelboynes."

Stevie's anger changed suddenly. "You . . . really don't . . . understand . . . Malcolm. Do you? . . . See Dabney? . . . Malcolm . . . hates . . . Dabney. Malcolm . . . will tell . . . you he . . . hates Dabney. He . . . will even . . . tell Dabney."

"Yeah?"

"Malcolm has . . . never . . . refused Dabney . . . a favor."

"But he doesn't like Dabney?"

"But Dabney . . . is a friend."

Malcolm pondered his alter ego. "Does Malcolm even understand what friendship is?"

Stevie smiled. "No."

"Should I apologize for that remark I made? Calling you a cripple."

"It would . . . be nice."

"I'm sorry."

"Accepted . . . And next time . . . think . . . before you . . . say something . . . stupid."

Having chastised Malcolm, Stevie rolled out of the living room to Dabney's bedroom leaving Malcolm trapped in the pit of hell. Somehow he had been left in the company of Lloyd and Belinda.

"There's the dance at the high school. We could go to that," Lloyd suggested.

"Can you dance yet?" Belinda inquired.

"Some. The slow dances. I made it a point to learn those because they're more intimate. A lot of the faster ones are beyond me."

"Okay. And Kyle asked if we wanted to go to the movies. I think that's a plus. You know. People thinking of us like we're a couple."

"Yeah, that is good. We could start talking in plural, too. Like telling him, we'd love to go, or asking when we should be there."

Belinda nodded. "That is a good idea. I never knew going out with someone would be so difficult."

Malcolm shook his head. "Look. I'm sorry I have to ask you this, but do either of you really like each other."

"We're getting used to each other," Lloyd pointed out.

"And we've been learning what the other likes and dislikes," Belinda added. "It was easy to decide on what compromises to make. I was surprised."

"Belinda, do you love Lloyd?"

"Um, not really. Why?"

"Lloyd, do you love Belinda."

"No. Is that important?"

Malcolm was amazed at the answers. "Well, most people go together because they're in love, or because they like each other a whole lot. Not because they don't have anything else to do."

Lloyd looked annoyed. "Malcolm, if you haven't noticed, I'm not the type of person that girls are attracted to. Most of them laugh if I even try and talk to them."

"But Belinda's not attracted to you either."

"What's that got to do with it?" Belinda asked. "I'm not the prom queen, if you haven't noticed. Most guys ignore me, or try to take advantage of me. I'm no genius, but I don't have to be smart to know why most boys are interested in me. And I am smart enough not to like boys like that."

"And Lloyd doesn't," Malcolm said, trying to understand. "Act like that?"

"I'm too scared to even think about it," Lloyd admitted.

"And I do like the fact that he's smart," Belinda acknowledged. "It's convenient when I'm having trouble thinking things out."

Malcolm nodded. "Okay, you don't like each other, but you like the fact that your 'significant other' is not like other boys, or girls."

Lloyd and Belinda nodded.

"And how far are you going to take this."

"Malcolm, think about it." Lloyd seemed frustrated at how thick his friend appeared. "If you're going out with somebody then people treat you differently. Girls will talk to me like I really am a likable person."

"And," Belinda pointed out, "when I talk to other boys, they listen to me, to what I'm saying. It's as though they found out I do have a brain. Since I'm already 'taken,' they actually think of me as a person. Lloyd and I are better off since we decided to go out together. Neither of us wants to go back to the way things were."

Malcolm smirked. "Are you going to get married?"

"Probably," Belinda answered, and Lloyd agreed. "We'll wait until we've graduated high school. And maybe college."

"It'll be when everyone else starts getting married. People will expect that of us."

And Malcolm understood. "The two of you are going out together to hide the fact that you're both losers. And you'll get married to keep people from finding out your secret."

Embarrassed, both nodded their heads.

Malcolm shook his head in disbelief. He was about to say something that would actually have been exactly the thing that the real Malcolm would have said, when he remembered Stevie's recent admonition. Instead, he said something else. It might be un-Malcolmish but he didn't care.

"You two should know that I'm very familiar with what it means to be a loser." He smiled at them. "You two will never be losers, as long as you have each other."

Belinda and Lloyd looked at Malcolm in surprise. Then they looked at each other. As though it was planned, they reached out and took each others hand. When they turned back to Malcolm, they were smiling.

As Malcolm walked away, he decided that he had watched too many movies. He looked up as Johnny announced it was time for everyone to leave. Dewey and Nob walked past him wearing swimsuits and flip-flops and headed out the door. Malcolm turned to follow but, as luck would have it, he ran into Dabney.

"Malcolm, you have to help me."

"Your Mom's coming back?"

"Maybe next month, but that's not the problem."

"Okay. What is?"

"Johnny wants me to be the salesman again."

"You were great last time, from what I heard. Just do again."

Dabney cringed with fear. "I can't do it again. Don't you understand? I was acting spontaneously in a unique situation. It's not something I can duplicate."

"Fine. I'll be the salesman. What do I have to do?"

"Memorize the price list for every item in my bedroom."

"Not a problem. Anything else?"

"Give two dozen people a tour and answer every question they ask."

"That's easy. What else?"

"They're coming to my house in fifteen minutes."

Malcolm snarled. "That's what I like. Plenty of warning."

Malcolm donned the robes hastily and stood facing two dozen wizards and witches, all of whom looked like they needed a laxative. Johnny whispered to him.

"I've given them the basics. They just need the tour."

"OKAY, LISTEN UP, PEOPLE." Malcolm smiled as everyone looked at him. "Look. All a youse know you're in a muggle house. Right? An' for all you know, I'm a muggle. Keep that in mind and follow me. We're goin' to my bedroom. It's about half the size of this room but that's not the point. This ain't your normal muggle bedroom." He turned to walk away, then turned back. "I'm not kidding, people. You came this far, you might as well find out why."

Malcolm held the door while everyone entered the foyer and walked into the den. He waited for everyone to get a good look, then spoke from behind them. "The stained glass window above you is also the ceiling of the entire fourth floor, which includes several bedrooms, a guest room, and because they couldn't think of where else to put it, an Olympic-size swimming pool. This is just to show you how efficiently and easily, J&D expansion spells can hold up. This entire area is the result of one clearly defined and heavily warded spell. That's our selling point."

"And the furnishings?" A matronly witch asked.

"Are on consignment from almost every wizardly crafter and not a few muggles companies as well. Everything you see is for sale. Ask the owners about pricing. If someone makes it, we can get it. If they don't make it, we'll find someone who does."

A wizard snorted. "You don't seem to care about the furniture."

"We're selling space, Mister. The biggest space possible in the smallest space possible. The furniture is there for decoration. And if you want some, fine. What I want to impress upon you is the amount of space this muggle bedroom has. And just remember, this space was shaped this way just for show. You've got this much space in whatever shape you want. And that's what I'll be showing you. The living room, greenhouse and playroom are through that arch. If you feel along the wall underneath the second floor balcony, there is a secret room, for people who think they need one. But first we'll go this way, around the aquarium to the game room."

"I'm impressed already," a young wizard said aloud."

Malcolm smiled. "I should tell you. The floors are not all the same size." He paused. "The second floor is almost the same, and the third floor is about half the size but in a strange shape, just to show off, but the fourth floor is almost as big as the rest of the room. It seems the Architects wanted the pool to have a glass ceiling."

"Wait a minute," An older wizard said, almost shouting. "The floors don't have to be the same size?"

Malcolm's smile became a grin. "It's not a box that becomes a bigger box. Would you like a tower? Twenty stories. The first floor has the door you enter and a cloak closet. The second floor is a nice sitting room. The third floor the living room. And so on, ending with the Grand Ballroom on the top floor with the stone balcony surrounding it."

"You can do that?"

"For a price?" Malcolm told him. "Let's talk money later. First let me show you what we're selling."