A/N: As always apologetic, I forgot something. For those of you who do not remember, or did not know, Louis' name is pronounced as though it is spelled Louie (As in Lewis Armstrong as opposed to C.S. Lewis). I even envision a possible chapter in the next story where he and Dewey find themselves on an Air Force base and commandeer a helicopter. For those of you who are groaning, the answer is yes, it will be a HUEY.

A note to Mandraco, no review is ever useless. Except for the ones you don't like.

And a thanks to Phoenix Skyborne for reminding me of that episode. It reinforces the episode where Dewey tries to convince Malcolm and Reese that Mom treats him better because he behaves. They don't believe him and end up arguing over what the real reason is.

And thanks to everyone else for reading, and reviewing.

CHAPTER 11: THE PRODIGAL OWL

The doctor examined Gabrielle's owl. The owl, while annoyed, let the doctor examine him thoroughly because Gabrielle told him to. And when the doctor pronounced him completely healed of his head injury, the owl quickly flew to his perch.

"Janus, sil vous plait" Gabrielle called and held out her arm. "You are better, no? Then you must listen to me. You are not Malcolm's owl. You are Malcolm."

The owl blinked it's eyes. Then it stared.

In case you're wondering, I'm feeling really stupid right now.

Finally it flew to the floor and transformed.

"Gabrielle, I'm sor-"

Gabrielle kissed him. "Now you are better. Your mother knows what happened and did not worry. And you will stay for a while to make sure you have recovered completely."

'owever much 'e wonderz, I will never tell him I know 'ow it 'appened.

"Mon pere insiste pour que ju restes tout le weekend."

"Stay 'til the weekend?"

Let's see? This is Sunday? That means . . .

Malcolm's smile was big enough for two people.

"An 'ead injury iz no small matter,"

"Well, if I have to? What should we do first?"

Gabrielle smiled. "You will take a bath. You 'ave been an owl for quite a while."

Lois had just finished talking into the fireplace when Hal and the boys returned. "How was your trip."

It was great, Mom," Nob gushed. "I never thought a museum could be so cool."

"Yeah," Dewey added. "It's Dad's fault. He kept saying we should find out what we were looking at."

"Honey, you should have come with us. They even had a bathroom exhibit, with three hundred different types of paper."

Lois looked at her other son. "And Louis, what did you think?"

"Yeah, it was . . ." His smile melted away. "You called me Louis."

"You knew?" Dewey asked.

"Yup," Lois acknowledged. "And I think it's wonderful that you boys went through all this trouble to keep me from worrying."

"So Malcolm's finally back to normal?" Hal asked and Lois nodded.

"You knew, too?" Louis asked. "Then why did you pretend?"

Lois looked at him with a grin. "Your dad was busy anyway. He managed to finally get himself into trouble, so we agreed to take care of you for a few weeks."

"My old man knows you know? Then why didn't any of youse say anything."

"Hah. You wouldn't have stayed here for one minute if we told you. And yes, we even know how Greaser got into trouble. You can consider this your punishment."

Louis frowned. "I guess that means I should leave now."

"No. You're going to help set the table. And then we're going to eat. And you're still stuck here for the rest of the week, so you're going with us to that carnival tomorrow. By the way, if you'd rather go home, your father said to let you know he's working late. You really messed him up good."

"I - I'd like to stay."

"Then get going. I need that table set. GO, GO, GO. If it's not set in five minutes, you're all going to eat with your hands."

"Albus, thank you for seeing me," David Winter said as he greeted the headmaster.

"A beautiful house," Albus Dumbledore said as he looked around. "I fear I must be honest and tell you. I liked its look better when Malcolm's family lived here. I was never afraid to touch anything."

David smiled at the reference to his collection of miniature statues that filled the shelves along one wall of the living room."

"It's the advantage of having all your children grown up and on their own. Twenty years ago, I would never have dared display one of these figurines, unless I really hated it."

"David, my time is short and I must bring this meeting to its point. Your request must be refused. With Malcom returning, there are no excuses to be made. Nor does Hogwarts accept new students over the age of eleven. There have been circumstances in the past where students have transferred from other schools, but this is clearly not the case."

David nodded. "I was hoping. I've told you about the father, and what the man has been involved in. The father is willing to help if we can help his son." He sighed. "I will have to inform him that we can't help."

Albus grasped his friend's hand in appreciation. "How delightfully maudlin, David. But regardless of how dramatic you act, I will not yield on this point. However." Albus paused to watch David's reaction. "We have recently started a new tradition. One of our students took part in an exchange program over the summer. To accept the boy into the school in such a manner will not be against precedent."

"For how long?" David asked cautiously.

"As the boy has no school, per se, we will use the time length defined by previous cases. Two months, to visit and learn the difference between a professional school and home schooling."

"Previous cases? I thought their was only one?"

"And he spent the two months of his summer holiday."

"So I can tell Louis he has until?"

"Halloween. He may join us for the feast but he must leave no later than the next day."

David nodded. "It does give me a breathing spell."

Albus smiled again. "His last name is Renault. He is of French decent, if I am correct?"

This time David smiled. He knew the point Dumbledore was making. There was a certain French school. He also knew a young man who had a girlfriend at that school and who had captured the heart of the headmistress. And David had two months to work something out.

Albus, knowing he need stay no longer, bid his friend goodbye and apparated away. It was then, for a brief moment, that David noticed the headmaster's hand, blackened as though burned. It was a brief glance, and he knew it would be a while before he could ask Albus what had happened.

Dismissing the matter until he could do something about it. He turned back to his current problem. He would write an introductory letter to Madame Maxime. He would also send an inquiry to the French Ministry concerning one Henry Renault AKA Greaser AKA Henri Renault. It would be interesting to know about his family.

It was Friday evening and Malcolm stood in front of the fireplace with Gabrielle.

"Thank you. For everything. For taking care of me. And for not telling anyone how it happened."

Gabrielle grinned. "I did not even tell you."

"I wouldn't have listened anyway. You know how hardheaded I am."

"Mother 'eard you 'it the wall from all ze way down 'ere."

"It is time," Madame Delacour said.

Gabrielle kissed Malcolm goodbye as Monsieur Delacour threw the floo powder into the fireplace. Malcolm turned, said the name of his home, and stepped into the green flames. In a very short time he stepped out of the fireplace in his own living room. Dewey was there, frowning.

"You came back."

"Sorry to disappoint you, you little jerk."

Nob heard the noise and looked in from the kitchen. His face dropped as he turned back. "He's here."

"What's with you two," Malcolm demanded. "You act like it would have been better if I stayed away."

"It was better while you were away," Dewey scowled. "We were a normal family."

"Oh yeah, you and Nob were adorable children the entire time."

"We all were. Even you."

Malcolm frowned. "But I wasn't here."

"Promise you'll come back," Nob said tearfully as he walked with Louis out of the kitchen.

"Is Sunday soon enough?. I'll be comin' by to see Dewey off." Louis knelt down and hugged Nob. "Be good for Mom and Dad, okay?"

Mom and Dad?

"I promise," Nob said through his tears.

"And I'll be by real early to say goodbye." Louis let go of Nob and turned to Dewey. "Bright and early, My Man. Wait for me."

"You got it," Dewey said, and high-fived him as he walked past.

Louis walked to the front door, then turned back and waved goodby to Lois and Hal, showing them that he remembered his poster. Before he left, he said to Malcolm, "Hey, Bird Boy, you have one heck of a family. I had a great time."

Louis walked out the door and he was gone.

What was that all about?

"Mom? What's going on?"

"Louis took your place while you were gone. You know, it was a real treat having a responsible son for once. He mowed the backyard when I told him to. No arguments. No complaints." She looked at Nob. "No stories about strange things growing back there."

"Great. So he was stupid enough to mow the lawn."

"He taught me how to play catch," Nob said.

"And he was dumb enough to play with you?" Malcolm was surprised. "Mom, would you really like me better if I was stupid?"

Lois laughed and turned away. "That must be a trick question."

I don't get it. Why's everybody so happy that Louis was nice to them? On the other hand, I know what Louis is like. He must have gotten something out of this.

Hal walked over to Malcolm. "Welcome back, son. And I mean that. It was nice having Louis around, but YOU are still our son. How was France?"

"Okay. I spent most of my time as an owl. I didn't get to see much. Except when Gabrielle let me out of my cage at night, but then I was to busy hunting for food to look around." Malcolm paused. "Dad, Louis said he was coming back Sunday to say goodbye?"

"Yeah. And you, too. Your Mom talked to the principal or whoever and they're letting you go back."

Mais, que je suis Bete. I wasted all that time learning French.

"So why is Louis going to stop by?"

"He's going with you, Son. Part of some exchange program. That's what David said."

"Mister Winter's involved in this?"

Hal nodded. "It was his idea."

Wait a minute.

"Dad, if Louis's going to Hogwarts with us, then why did he tell Nob he was coming by to say goodbye to Dewey?"

Hal shrugged. "I guess no one told him yet."

"What?"

Greaser looked at his son.

"You're spending the rest of the year at Hogwarts. We made a deal."

"But Malcolm came back. I'm off the hook."

"You're not thinking. When you get older, you get bragging rights. You spent a semester at Hogwarts. It was nice. Tells people you're smarter than they think. Even if you ain't."

"Pop. NO. I don't want to go."

Greaser became angry. "Do you know what your big mouth cost me? Three hardcore connections to people with interesting things that lack the proper documentation for legal import. THREE. Well, two. Fletcher talks big but that bike was the only decent thing he ever came up with."

Louis tried to hide his surprise. He thought Fletcher was one of the bad ones. He could have called that fed's bluff and gotten away with it. All of this WAS his fault.

"Sorry, Pop. I goofed big this time."

"There's good in everything, Louis. Like I told you. This Hogwarts deal can be a good thing. I get to name drop. Impress the customers. Makes me look honest. I even got them to send me a letter that I can hang up in the shop as proof."

Louis tried to smile. "I guess if it means that much to you, I'll go."

"You'll go anyway. There're other reasons. I can't be as loose with my books as I used to and, because of that, I need to keep my new friends. And that bike, I think I can figure out the spell, it's a good one, and once I do that, then we're talkin'." His voice became a conspiratorial whisper. "I need my new friends to get a business permit to sell those new bikes. I'll make a fortune. That's why you're going."

Louis was impressed. His old man had taken a bad situation and turned it around, almost. And because he was the one who caused all the problems in the first place, Louis would do whatever he had to, and not complain . . . while Pop was in hearing distance.

Greaser watched as his son walked away? "Louis."

The boy stopped and looked back. "Pop?"

Greaser walked up to him. "Things ain't so great right now. That stuff you've been hearin' about. Well, some of the people I used to know ain't as nice as they used to be, if you catch my drift. You're safer at that school than you would be if you stayed here. That's also why you're goin'. That's why you spent all those weeks with those people, away from me."

Louis was unsure how to act. "It's, uh, yeah, um, it's cool."

Greaser smiled. "You know, I don't remember the last time we went out for a pizza. You interested. We could talk. About how you spent your summer vacation."

Louis nodded. "Yeah, Pop, that would be real cool."

"Let me get cleaned up while you run over to Johnny's place. I think you'll want to say goodbye to your friends."

Louis looked surprised. He was a loner. He always did for himself. It was Malcolm who had friends. "Uh, yeah, Pop, sure."

"Louis, I know what you're thinking. They only like you because you were pretending to be someone else." Greaser leaned down to look his son in the eye. "Maybe you were pretending to be who you wanted to be. Maybe's that who you would have been all along if I paid more attention to you."

"POP, I just wanted to be cool. Like you."

Greaser nodded and smiled. "Talk to your friends. Tell them goodbye. That's what a guy's who's really cool would do."

Reluctantly, Louis made the not-long journey to where Johnny lived with Dabney.

"You're going to school?" Johnny was laughing at him.

"Hey. It's a great school. It's a chance any other kid would die for. And THEY asked ME to go."

"Get your stuff yet?"

"First thing in the AM, Day after tomorrow. I'm going with Dewey. We'll hit Diagon Alley, then race for the train." Louis frowned. "That'll be lots of fun."

"Hey, Louis. I know yer old man is tight, what with what's goin' down."

"Yeah. I heard you lost your meal ticket, too."

"Um . . . yeah. But not before other things came through."

"People are buying?"

Johnny nodded. "You know how to sell, Louis. You can spot the soft spot in any customer You made me a few good sales."

"Glad I could help. I learned it all from my old man, ya know."

"And how is he?" Johnny asked seriously.

Louis shuffled his feet. "I screwed up bad. Fed's are watching him all the time. An' they're bringin' in some numbers guys to check out the books. An' it's my fault."

"And I lucked out," Johnny noted. "I'll squeeze by but I'll make it. I got a good gig. Hey, dude, ask your old man something for me. I need a salesman. I can only pay commission, and then only when I get payed. It could turn into something."

Louis nodded. He thought coming over to see Johnny would help his mood. It just made him realize how bad things were. "I'll talk to him."

Johnny gave him a smile and handed him a small pouch. "Here."

Louis looked at the pouch. "I don't take handouts."

"It's a hundred Galleons. It's an advance against commissions. I told you. I made some good deals because of you."

"A HUNDRED GALLEONS? That's like a thousand bucks."

Johnny laughed at Louis's wide eyes. "You think that's a lot of money, dude? Wait'll you start spending it. If you need more, let me know."

"Thanks."

"MALCOLM!" Dabney called out from the doorway of his bedroom. He called back into the room. "MALCOLM"S HERE."

"Dabney," Louis called. "I just . . ."

A dozen people came out of Dabney's bedroom and crowded around their friend.

"Have a great year," Belinda said as she gave him a peck on the cheek. Louis noticed she was holding Lloyd's hand and it didn't seem forced.

Eraserhead came up and they high-fived, except Eraserhead missed. "I'll miss having you around, Malcolm. You were a great sounding board."

"Thanks, Kyle. You were coming up with some great ideas."

Dabney was next. "I did it. I followed your advice on how to talk to people. You know. Assume they want to buy something. And it worked. I am actually ABLE to take purchase orders."

"It's attitude," Louis reminded him. "People pick up on it. Keep it up."

Stevie was there as well. "We . . . should . . . tell him."

"Tell who," Louis asked.

"When . . . I heard . . . about . . . you know . . . I . . . told them."

Johnny put his hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, Dude. And we set up a surprise for you. We're gonna have a party."

Louis grinned in surprise, then frowned. "Johnny. My old man. We were gonna do somethin'."

"Yeah, we know. That's why we got pizza. He told me he'd be by in a few."

"Oh." Louis put on his best fake smile. Pop never planned on it being just the two of them. But Louis would make it a point to have a good time anyway. Then his smile became real. He would have a good time with his friends.

It was late, and Louis was tired. His father walked him home.

"Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah," Louis mumbled.

"Better than hangin' around with an old guy like me?"

Louis looked up. There was sadness in his voice. "No."

Greaser nodded. "I guess I goofed again. I been doin' that a lot."

"It's okay."

"Louis?"

The boy stopped when he noticed his father had.

"What is it?"

"I never thought you'd want to spend time with just me, instead of your friends."

Louis smiled at the honesty. "You're my Pop." The moment was lost when he yawned.

"Let's get you to bed," Greaser told him. "I got a busy day tomorrow. But I'll try and squeeze some time in."

Louis smiled his thanks but knew it wouldn't happen. It never did.