A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing but I wanted to make a short note for Phoenix Skyborne. I haven't followed Batman for years, and I knew nothing about Timothy Drake being the new Robin. I picked Drake for th old lady's last name because it was short. I did pick Timmy's name from a particular source, an American TV show called DINOSAURS. (The baby's catch phrase was, "not the mommy," followed by throwing something at the daddy.)

Anyway, on the show, they would watch TV, and one of those shows was a version of the old 50's and early 60's science shows, "Ask Mr. Wizard." In this show, Timmy was always the young Dino in a red and white striped shirt. Mister Wizard would always have Timmy do something very dangerous such as, "Timmy, after I get inside this concrete bunker, I want you to shake that bottle of Nitroglycerin really hard." After the resultant explosion, Mister Wizard would call out, "WE NEED ANOTHER TIMMY."

Chapter 14: The Great Hall

"Line up," Argus Filch demanded as the students walked up to the main doors of the castle. "No one gets through without being checked."

"No one?" Draco asked.

Filch looked up in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd join in the fun," Draco said with a smirk.

"Get inside. I don't want to deal with you, anymore."

Draco grinned at his comrades and walked past the caretaker without a pause. He loved it when his reputation earned him special treatment. He headed toward the Great Hall only to be stopped by a familiar face.

"Malcolm! Dewey told me you flew on ahead of everyone. You missed the fun. That fool, Potter, tried to eavesdrop by sneaking into my compartment. Did you know he had an invisibility cloak? But I caught him and punished him for it. Even though it meant scuffing my shoes. So, you can expect extra room at your table."

"Draco, that's nice. I'm sorry about your shoes but I need to tell you something."

"It had better be good."

"Not really," Draco said from behind him.

Draco turned around while Draco pulled out his wand and said, "Finite Incantatum." Draco's body shimmered and he became someone else.

"Dang. I'm really Reese. That stinks."

"Sorry," Draco and Malcolm said with identical smirks.

Reese shrugged. "It had to happen. But I had fun. It was really cool being you. And you know Pansy Parkinson?" Reese laughed. "Well, I patched things up for you."

"You what?" Draco's face dropped. Pansy was pretty enough but she was vain, egocentric, egotistical. Everything he was. And it was true. Familiarity bred contempt, especially for Draco.

"I never realized how much she loves you," Reese said, as students finally began to enter the school. "Anybody who looked in would have seen you just lying there, your head in Pansy lap." He nudged Draco. "I'd have loved to seen what would have happened if Crabbe and Goyle weren't there. You two looked really . . ."

"Really what?" Ginny Weasley asked from behind.

I think it's a rule. Whenever you're talking about something, the person you least want to be there has to be standing behind you.

"Nothing, Love," Draco said quickly, smiling politely at Luna Lovegood who was standing next to Ginny.

"Oh," Reese said apologetically. "Was she the girl you kept toying with just for fun?" Forgetting it was him and not Draco who said those words, Reese apologized. "Sorry, Ginny, I didn't know you were the one we were talking about. If I'd known, I wouldn't have laughed about it with everyone else."

"He's joking," Draco said quickly.

"Some joke," Ginny answered, her face red with embarrassment and anger.

"Would you like to hear the punch line?" Pansy said, coming from behind and grabbing Draco's arm possessively.

You see. It happened again. No one ever walks up to you where you can see them.

"Punch line? I've got one," Ginny said as she slapped Draco hard.

"Let me make that better," Pansy said with a laugh, and kissed Draco as everyone watched. Except for Ginny, who was storming away.

Luna looked at Malcolm before she walked off as well. "I read his horoscope. It said this would be his unlucky day."

"Yeah, thanks."

Wait. I can actually see someone I know and she's walking up in plain sight. I'd say that's a relief except that it's Millicent Bulstrode.

"You need to turn around," Millicent said before Reese could say anything.

"Okay."

She put her hands over his eyes. "Guess Who."

She's the only girl I know who would do that and believe it would work.

"I give up," Reese responded

Then again . . .

"Me, Lovey-Dovey."

"I thought I was Lovey-Dovey," Reese said as he turned around.

Stumped as to how to respond, Millicent decided to kiss him.

"Uh, guys," Malcolm said with irritation. "Not here, Please."

"Good idea," Reese answered. "Thanks, Malcolm."

The two grabbed hands and walked into the nearest broom closet.

"Darn," Pansy pouted. "I wanted to do that."

"Maybe later," Draco said offhandedly. "Pansy, I need to talk to Malcolm. Privately."

"I understand, Lovey-Dovey," she giggled. " I'll meet you inside."

As she left, Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle. "I wanted to talk to Malcolm privately."

"But on the train you asked us to look out for you?"

Malcolm grabbed Draco and walked him away from Crabbe and Goyle. The two Slytherins shrugged their shoulders and entered the Great Hall.

"Don't worry," Malcolm assured his friend. "I'll talk to Ginny and let her know what happened."

Draco sighed. "Don't bother. We needed to break up anyway. Considering what's been happening. Malcolm, do you realize that your brother has singlehandedly destroyed my life."

"It's not completely destroyed."

"No? Ginny hates me with a passion. Pansy loves me with a passion. Crabbe and Goyle are, well, Crabbe and Goyle. They're good friends but I don't like the way they looked at me."

"Reese said he beat up Potter. That should make you happy."

"Happy? I've been trying to get the upper hand on that stinking halfblood since my first year. The only time I ever came close is when I LET him hit me. And Reese get's the better of him in a fair fight? How does that make me happy. Let's face it. I don't have what it takes to be a fighter. I've never learned to stand up for anything. Even myself. I'm a complete and hopeless loser. On top of that, there are things I can't even begin to tell you."

Malcolm stared in surprise as Draco began to cry.

Oh, man. This is bad.

"What are you talking about? You're the Drakster. You're the Main Man. When everything's going well for everybody else, YOU are the one with the monkey wrench. YOU are the one everyone looks for when they have a problem. YOU are one of the shakers and movers of this school." I'm getting into this. "YOU are the ONE, the ONLY, DRACO MALFOY."

Draco, now dry-eyed. looked squarely at Malcolm. "What the hell are you talking about? You know, you really need to get your priorities in order."

Malcolm watched as Draco left him and walked into the Great Hall.

At least I got him to stop crying.

"Sven," Francis called out. "Has Mrs. Drake come back yet."

"Ya. She grab a new horse and new bottle and head out again."

"A New Bottle?"

"Ya. Bourbon."

"Sven, if she comes back, tell her it's cash only, up front. That'll stop this binge."

"But she pay cash. Fifty Galleons and keep the change."

Francis rubbed his face with his hands. This nightmare was never going to end.

"Honey," Piama called from their cabin. "Can you come here. I have a question for you."

Sven nodded appreciatively. "Your wife in good mood."

Francis nodded. "Yeah, that means I'm in trouble." Faster than he wanted to, Francis walked over to talk to his wife.

"Yes, dear?"

"Don't yes dear me, Francis. What is this thing? And why does it keep calling me Mistress."

Francis acted surprised. "I'm sorry, Piama. I just realized. You've never seen a house elf before. This is Timmy. He works for Mrs. Drake, that nice old lady in Suite 14."

Piama wasn't amused. "You mean that old drunk that was screaming at two in the morning about the British attacking the ranch? Why is this house elf here?"

"Well . . ."

Piama stamped her foot. "Well?"

"You see, honey. House elves have to be owned, kinda like owning an intelligent dog. And they are smart, and loyal, and love to do things for the people who own them."

"They have to be owned?"

"Yes, Mistress," Timmy interrupted. "If a house elf is not owned, he is a disgrace to, uh, house elves."

"Right. The old drunk owns a house elf. And why is this house elf here."

"Old Mistress gave me to Master," Timmy explained, pointing at Francis."

Piama eyed Francis. "SHE GAVE HIM TO YOU?"

"ONLY UNTIL SHE GETS BACK FROM RIDING HER HORSE. Jeezel, Piama, it's not like I'm going to keep him."

"Oh. Sorry, I yelled.. Why is it wearing a dirty towel?"

"It's a house elf thing. Wearing clothes is like some big taboo. It's even against their religion to accept clothes from somebody." He added in a loud whisper. "It's a big insult to even offer him any clothes."

Piama looked at the house elf with the big ears and flat nose. "It's only until she gets back?"

"Yeah, but it may be a while. She's out on Fluffy."

"Excuse me," a man said from behind.

Francis jumped. "Why do you always have to walk up behind me."

"You had your back turned." The man smirked as Francis scowled. "I'm sorry, you were involved in your conversation, but I was told you were the Ranch Manager."

"Yeah, I'm Francis. And this is my wife, Piama. And that's Timmy."

"We wanted a girl," Piama said snidely.

"Honey," Francis said with extreme politeness. "The man wants to talk to me." He turned back to the man in question, eyeing the other man standing nervously some five feet back. "How can we help you at the Sleepy Hollow Ranch?"

"I'm Dirk Cameron with the Muggle Control Division of the Department of Secrecy. I need to ask if you had a Mrs. Drake staying here with you."

"We had, and we still have," Francis noted. "She out riding one of our horses. Did she do something wrong?"

Mister Cameron paused. "I have to apologize again. Someone told me you were already informed."

"Informed?"

"About the accident."

"What accident?"

"It was terrible," the other man said. "I saw the whole thing from my tractor from across the road. You know that big rock that sticks out next to the highway? Well, this old lady, and I do mean old, like she was 200 or somethin'. She takes a hit off this half-gallon jug of whiskey, then pours the rest of it down the throat of this horse she's ridin'. And I swear on this. Neither she nor that horse spilled a single drop. They both must 'a been lickered up somethin' fierce."

"That's unbelievable," Francis said with as much realism as he could manage. "Mrs. Drake has always been a teetotaler."

"Yeah," Piama muttered.

Francis eyed her then turned back to the man. "What happened."

"Well, this big rig comes roarin' down the highway and the old lady spots it. Then she waits until it's gettin' close. She kicks the horse. The horse goes runnin' up the side o' that rock, heads to the edge that faces the highway and . . ." The man paused. "It were a beautiful sight. That Eighteen Wheeler is passing by just as that horse leaps off the big rock. That horse leaped over the truck without even touchin' any part of it, and landed just as neat as you please in the other lane. Then the horse rears up on it's hind legs and that old lady lets out a yell of sheer delight." The look of awe fell from his face. "That's when the Eighteen Wheeler goin' the other way hit her."

"Is she . . ."

"Pretty much. She only had one horse and that trucker had four hundred and no time to hit the brakes. We can only be grateful that it was quick." The man paused. "There's a horse on your roof."

Mister Cameron raised his hand to assure Francis that he would take care of it. Francis watched as Cameron pulled out his wand. Then the other man said, "It has wings."

Francis gave Cameron a dirty look and stepped between the two men, putting his hand on the other man's shoulder and looking up at the roof where Pete was perched by the chimney.

"There's nothing up there, Mister. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I can see it plain as day. It's just sittin' up there flappin' its wings slowly, like it was airin' 'em out."

"Nope, nothing," Francis added as he turned the man away from the house. "You know, you did have a pretty big shock. It may be a delusion. You saw the horse get killed, and now you see a white horse with wings. I had a cousin who saw an accident once, and he swore he saw a line of elephants march down the street for twenty minutes straight. He was fine after a good night's rest."

The man nodded. "You might be right. Didn't see no lady though." He tried to smile. "Maybe it's a good thing if I don't look down." They laughed politely. "Oh, the ambulance took care of the lady, an' I pulled the horse here with my tractor. I gave him to that man at the back of the ranch house. He said he'd take care of it, and sent us to see you."

"Oh, thanks," Francis said and cast a glance at the kitchen. "And we'll contact her family. You don't have to worry about that. You get some rest, now."

"Will do, and thanks for your help." The man climbed on his tractor and looked back. "I can still see 'im. Via con Dios, horsey," he shouted with a wave.

Francis thought something to Pete, who let out a whinny, then jumped off the roof and flew up and away."

"I like visions like that," the man said. He waved goodbye and drove away on his tractor.

"Impressive," Cameron said. "You did that with no magic."

"And he left with a good feeling," Francis pointed out. "So, what do we do about Mrs. Drake."

Cameron shrugged. "Nothing. She had no family. She disowned them all over a hundred years ago. She'll get a burial at the government's expense, and they'll auction off her estate. After we've removed anything magical from it. Is that the house elf?"

"Yeah, but . . ."

"No buts," Cameron told him. "Elf, over here. You're government property now."

"NO. Timmy, stay where you are. You can't just take him."

"Keep out of this. Elf, come here."

Timmy shook his head. "Master told Timmy to stay."

Cameron arched an eyebrow. "Master?"

Francis smirked. "Mrs. Drake gave him to me. It was supposed to be until she gets back but . . ."

"But nothing. She gave him to you. He's yours. If you had said that in the first place you wouldn't have wasted my time." Dirk Cameron turned and took a sharp step, apparating away.

"Master kept Timmy," Timmy said with adoration.

"Do you mean we're stuck with him?" Piama asked.

"It's not that bad. My folks had a house elf once."

"And?"

Francis paused. "Well . . . he turned human and they adopted him. You remember my brother Norbert."

Piama looked down. "I don't think this one's going to change."

"FRANCIS," Otto called as he came running out of the Ranch House. "I just talked mit der chef. You ver wrong. Der is plenty of ground beef for der outdoor barbeque tonight."

"Malcolm."

Malcolm looked up to see Colin Creevey waving to him. Sitting next to him was Dennis who was wearing a cowboy hat. An Australian style cowboy hat.

"We looked for you on the train," Colin told him as he sat down.

"We were in the last car."

"We know. We found you."

"We didn't see you come into the car."

"We were going to, but we changed our minds after your car turned bright red that second time."

They shared grins then Malcolm turned to the younger Creevey. "Dennis. Nice hat."

"Colin got it for me. He went on that exchange program."

"To Alice Springs?" Malcolm asked in surprise. "You actually went to school at the Unseen University?"

"Two months," Colin bragged. "And I learned a few new spells as well. I'll show you later. Malcolm, someone said they saw Reese here?"

"Yeah. He's in the broom closet with Millicent."

Colin turned to his brother. "Dennis, do you remember how to jinx a door so it won't open?"

"I'll give it a try." Dennis ran to the entranceway, then ran back just as quickly. "Too late. Filch just went to get a broom."

That's cool. I wouldn't want Reese to miss out on the back-to-school feast.

"Maybe something happened," Dean Thomas said, trying to console Ginny Weasley. "With everything that's been going on. Maybe he was trying to end your relationship and he couldn't risk getting close to you. Because, you know, Ron."

Ginny smiled at Dean. "You have a way with words. You make it sound like I should be grateful to him."

"I'll be honest. If it really is over between the two of you, I'd be grateful if you'd consider, well, I'm not doing anything this year, you know, if you need somebody."

Ginny squeezed his hand. "I need a friend, right now. And who knows. If we became close friends . . . I could live with that."

Ginny and Dean both smiled at each other.

From down the table, Ron and Hermione were watching.

"You see, Ron. Ginny didn't want to join us for an obvious reason. Why talk to your brother when you can talk to your boyfriend."

"But Dean Thomas? He is in Gryffindor. That makes him better than Michael Corner. But she's still going out with, you know, a boy."

Hermione laughed. "Ron, you're acting like any boy she looks at is Draco Malfoy."

"I do not."

"You threatened Neville. You asked Fred and George to test some of their gags on Michael Corner. Then there was . . ."

"Enough, already. I may have gone a bit barmy, but she is my little sister. I have to protect her."

"Ron, look at her. She's not that little anymore. And she can defend herself. You saw when she ran into Malfoy. I don't know what he said, but you can still see her hand print on his cheek from all the way over here."

Ron snickered. "That was a good start to the school year." He pointed to the door. "And here's a bad start."

Filch entered the Great Hall with Reese in hand. Millicent Bullstrode went off to the Slytherin table, her cheeks red with embarrassment. Reese was dragged to the Gryffindor table and sat next to Malcolm. Filch yelled something at Malcolm, yelled at Reese again, then left.

"It's not that bad, after all," Ron said as he noticed Malcolm's reaction. "But . . . what happened to Harry?