Chapter 20: The Feast

"Orange Potatoes?" Anthony asked.

"They're Sweet Potatoes," Reese said as he went to oversee the rest of the preparations. He was making sure that everything was correct. Hogwarts had a feast. And so would he. He made sure all the different meals were cooked. Serving would be a small nightmare but he had everyone make sure of their own tasks. This was his magnum opus. Until Bonfire Day.

The first student took up his tray and walked to the serving line and stared. There were five servers there. Each had at least three dishes for the student to choose from. The vegetable lady had five. It was a buffet. He ended up with corn, squash, cranberry relish, turkey medallions, London broil, a lot of tiny chicken legs in a spicy sauce and corm bread. He chose both apple cider and pumpkin juice (obtained from a special source) as his drink.

That first student had so much food that the last student had started eating before he came close to finishing. He had just sat back, feeling completely stuffed when it was announced that second helpings were available. Suddenly, he had an urge for a few more of those chicken wings.

Reese had learned his crowd perfectly. Almost all of the teachers and the older students had stuffed themselves, but the younger ones, always picky, ate just enough but only of what they liked. They were the ones to jump up when dessert was announced. Their cheers drowned out the groans of their elders.

"An amazing meal," Headmaster Filch acknowledged at the end. "How can I ever thank you, Reese?"

Reese smiled. His plan worked. They wouldn't even have to run and they could be at Hogwarts well before ten. His smile grew when Filch gave his permission. That was when Anthony found out about Reese's plan.

"All of this was just so you could go see your girlfriend?"

"It worked. Are you coming?"

"I'm full."

Reese shrugged. "You can walk it off. Or stay here and clean dishes."

Anthony threw his apron over an empty chair. "I'm ready."

As Hector Filch waved them off, he smiled to himself. The exercise would do both boys good. And the Aurors knew to keep an eye out for them and to not let them into the school. He would wait for the boys to come back, and let them in himself. He would also promise to mention what happened to Argus, so that he could have a good laugh as well.

Malcolm and Gabrielle walked past the window and looked out on the night sky. The moon shining, the stars twinkling, the snitch whizzing by like a firefly on steroids.

"There's Dewey. The green blur chasing the snitch. Dang, he lost it."

"It is too early," Gabrielle said. "The best games are the long ones."

Malcolm nodded, then pointed again. "Look. They have people in the stands. That's Professor Flitwick there." He turned around. "Is this a new tradition?"

Camilla answered the question. "By popular demand. Professor Fantaine was asked to cast his spell again at the beginning of the school year. By the first free Saturday, everyone knew he had said yes."

"And Madame Maxime approved it?"

"I never approve anything," Madame Maxime said from behind them. "Zees things grow of their own accord. Bur zey are best when zey first start, no?"

Camilla laughed. "In five years, there will be traditional teams and traditional colors and formal this and that."

"Too true," Madame Maxime noted. "And you are off to where?"

"East wing," Jean Paul suggested.

"Who's playing? Le Sorcerers Mal?" Malcolm smiled when he was told they were back.

"English?" The young woman asked?

"Yes," Colin admitted. "I'm a student at Hogwarts."

"Oooh, an upper class Brit?"

"I'm muggle born."

The girl smiled. "So was Mam." She held out her hand. "Lizzie Burton. From Down Under. And why the smirk?"

"I spent my holiday there. Student Exchange Program."

Lizzie's eyes lit up. "At the University? Tell me about the tower. Did they ever put the staircase in? It was a task climbing that ladder."

"They did," Colin laughed. He paused. "I was here with friends but I lost them."

"I'm with the Traveling People. We're playing in the Fountain Garden. Traditional music."

Colin looked around the room they were in. The music sounded classical. "And why are you here?"

"We alternate with another band. I have to be back in twenty minutes. And I know the bartender here from last year."

"Then you're here every year? This is my first time?"

"Four years straight." Lizzie had a thought. "You said you were from Hogwarts. There was a boy here last year. He wowed the crowd during the first dance."

Colin nodded. "Malcolm. He invited me."

"And the girl?"

"He asked her to marry him . . . after they graduate. That's why he invited me. To take pictures of it."

"You take pictures much?"

"I hope to be a professional someday?"

"How about tonight?" Lizzie smiled at his surprise. "It's nothing big. Take a few publicity shots while we're playing. Good crowd reaction stuff."

"And you'll pay me? How much?"

"I need to talk to Brian. He handles the finances. But I can guarantee an invitation for next year. Or at least a vendor pass."

Colin smiled at the thought of being able to come back. "It's a deal."

Lizzie threw her arm around Colin and led him to the Fountain Garden and behind the stage. There he met Brian, who offered two Galleons plus the cost of the film and processing, and an extra pass. He also met Devon, Brian's son, who was ten.

Colin was also given something that became very special to him. It was a parchment verifying that he was at the cotillion as part of the "professional staff".

Reese was annoyed. They actually had guards around the place. The only places they weren't were where there was no access. Anthony, on the other hand was highly amused. He had already guessed why the headmaster had agreed so quickly to let them come here. He sat on a large rock while Reese fumed at some way to get up the steep cliff.

"Anthony? Reese? What are you doing here?"

Anthony turned around. He recognized the boy. It was Colin's brother.

"Dennis? I should ask you the same question."

Dennis shrugged. "I like to sneak out whenever I can."

Reese was excited. "You have a way to get out?"

"Yes."

"Then that means you must have a way to get back in?"

"It's the same way I get out."

"Can you show us?"

Dennis grew quiet. "If I show you, you've got to promise not to tell."

Both Glen Levitt students promised.

"And you've really got to never tell anybody. If they found out, they'd yell at you two, but I'd become an example. I'd get more detentions than Malcolm."

Reese smiled. "It's no problem. As long as we don't tell, then we can also get in anytime we want to."

Dennis nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Ok, follow me."

They followed Dennis a short way to a culvert that was out of sight of almost everything. Then Dennis showed them how he was able to get in and out of the school. Both Anthony and Reese thought it was cool. (And Reese never did tell anyone.)

The green figure raced through the night air. Other figures, blue and green, concentrated on the pale white ball, the quaffle. Dewey was after faster game. He ducked his head as a red blur came racing toward him but never lost sight of his quarry. Then it flashed it's firefly flicker. The next time it flashed, it was in Dewey's gloved hand.

Cheers rang out throughout the stadium and Dewey realized that at least a hundred people had come to watch. He was thankful he did not know beforehand, and landed his broomstick quickly, as though embarrassed people had noticed him.

Then he was mobbed by his teammates as they celebrated. The girl, Phillipa, kissed him. But then she also kissed everyone else on the team. And Dewey, hot and sweaty, found himself being led to the showers.

A half-hour later, he was led back into the castle by his teammates, clean once again, and confronted by Professor Flitwick.

"You played very well, Master Dewey. And if they do not place you in Saturday's game, then Slytherin deserves to lose."

"I'm not sure, but I think they want me to stay here."

They shared a chuckle, and Flitwick waved him away. "Go with your friends, my boy. You don't want to hang around some old teacher. You want to talk to young girls and learn a new language."

As Dewey left, a wide grin on his face, Doctor Fantaine leaned down to talk to Professor Flitwick.

"You never learned a new language, Mon Ami."

Flitwick laughed. "I never learned the old one either."

"Me dad says I'm off to Hogwarts next year," Devon asked. "What's it like?"

"It's a huge musty old castle with towers and dungeons and high stone walls."

"Any Dragons?"

"No. But we do have a Giant Squid."

Devon snorted. "A squid."

"And a Forbidden Forest," Colin added casually. "And that's not to laugh at."

"Is it fun?"

"Most times. It would be better, except for . . . certain things."

Devon nodded. "I know what you mean. Dad's been careful about where he agrees to play. We haven't played in Britain in almost three years. And we haven't even been there this year."

Colin patted the boy's shoulder. "Things will get better."

"I know that too," Devon told him. "I've been reading about him. The Chosen One. He'll defeat HIM."

Colin noted the almost worshipful tone the boy used. "Someone will. But your dad's getting on stage. It's back to work for me."

Almost gratefully, he went back to taking pictures. Showing the band while also showing the cheering crowd.

Midnight came. One feast ended and another began.

"Thank you for coming," Millicent said as she kissed Reese goodbye.

"I'll see you soon," Reese told her as Argus Filch and an Auror grabbed him and dragged him out of the broom closet.

"Not if I can help it," Filch said as they forced Reese out the main door and down to the front gates.

As the feast officially ended, Anthony let out a sigh. The last thing he wanted to do was walk back to his own school in the middle of the night. He had eaten a full meal before he came here, then stuffed himself again.

"I don't want to move."

"You can stay the night," Euan Abercrombie offered. "The first years have a spare bed."

"Ay," Angus Armstrong admitted. "And it's yearnin' to be used." It's jest yer size."

"You're Hagrid's son?" Anthony asked.

"Not," Angus answered, "But I'll not let ye say anythin' bad abou' Uncle Rubeus."

Anthony frowned. "You are joking. Right?"

"'Bout everythin' but the bed."

"Then yer on."

Angus frowned. "Yer no' makin' fun o' me?"

As they walked to Gryffindor Tower, Anthony had to ask. "How did you end up being friends with Euan?"

"It were Dennis Creevey," Angus said. "He introduced us."

"And how did you meet Dennis?"

"On the train. I was openin' the door to go to the next car. He knocks me down an' slams the door closed, jest as a red light shone through that very window, followed by a thunderclap."

Anthony nodded. "I remember that. Malcolm said it was a Weasley Thunderstorm."

"Ye were there?"

"I was with Euan. I even got to light a couple of the fireworks."

Angus looked at Anthony with awe and admiration.

"Where do we sit," Malcolm asked as they returned to the Grand Hall for the feast.

Camille pulled out her invitation card and tapped it with her wand. "We managed to get a reserved table. That's still a sign of prominence but not like being at the High Table." They followed the card as it flew birdlike to where they were supposed to sit, an Oval table for ten people. Then Malcolm remembered.

"Where's everyone else?"

Gabrielle tapped his shoulder and pointed to one side of the high table, where the school's teachers usually sat. Professor Flitwick was sitting there next to the teacher he been seen talking to earlier that evening.

"That's one," Malcolm said. "And I know he's not coming to join us."

"Too bad we could not join him," Gabrielle said as she squeezed Malcolm's arm.

"Malcolm," Jean Paul called. He pointed to one of the balconies, where the musicians gathered to eat. Colin was on the rail, taking pictures of the scene below him. The four watched as Colin turned around. He was talking to someone, waved his hand, then took one last look at the crowd below before going to join whomever it was.

"That's two," Camilla noted. "To have an empty seat at your table is an insult to the King."

"And Dewey makes three," Malcolm noted. "And what about the other three chairs. Who's sitting there?"

Camilla's invitation fluttered on the table and she looked down in mild surprise. "It seems the seating arrangements have been changed."

"How can you tell?" Malcolm asked as Jean Paul snorted in laughter.

"I apologize, mon ami, but did you not notice. Zere are now eleven chairs around zis table."

He would have to state the obvious.

"There," Gabrielle said as she nodded her head. "Our fellow guests arrive. And there is Dewey."

Malcolm looked at the gaggle of twelve-year-olds heading toward the table. All of them had on their school robes. "Where's Dewey?"

What's he doing in Beauxbatons robes?

"Malcolm, we won," Dewey said as he sat down, his teammates sitting as well. The boy next to him said something to Jean Paul and Dewey looked at Malcolm. "What did Marcel say?"

"The same thing you did, but he's going into more detail."

Dewey got up and walked over to Malcolm. "I need a favor," he whispered.

"Sure, but why the blue robes."

"My old ones got a little dirty. And torn."

"Okay, and the favor?"

"I want to thank Phillippa for asking if you would invite me again."

"Go ahead. She knows English."

"No, Malcolm. She's been teaching me some words in French, they all have, but I want to thank her so she knows I mean it."

Malcolm nodded. "Okay, here's what you say. 'I am grateful.' It's noisy and that will get her attention, then when she's listening you'll say, 'I am grateful you asked if I could come.' And here's how you say it."

Malcolm whispered the words to Dewey and Dewey whispered them back. Malcolm corrected his mistakes and Dewey whispered them again. When Malcolm nodded, Dewey went back to his seat and waited for the proper moment. When there was a lull in the conversation and Marcel had finished relating the highlights of match for the third time, Dewey leaned forward to speak to the girl sitting on the other side of Marcel from him.

"Phillipa?"

"Oui?"

Everyone at the table politely held their silence so Dewey could speak.

"Phillippa, Je T'aime. Je T'aime De Tout Mon Coeur."

Phillippa literally knocked Marcel out of the way and grabbed Dewey into a hug. "Je t'aime, Dewey." Then she kissed him.

Isn't love wonderful.

"Is everyone here?" Professor Flitwick asked as the first rays of the morning sun shown into the Grand Hall. Most of the guests had long since departed. There were a few late revelers but they would be gone soon as well. With Flitwick were Malcolm and Gabrielle. Jean Paul and Camilla were there to say their last goodbyes as well. Colin was dropped off by some musicians, one with a sleepwalking child in tow. And Dewey stood there. Only Phillippa and Marcel were still awake to bid him goodbye.

"Phillippa, about the t'aime stuff?"

Phillippa grinned as did Marcel. "I know," she said in French. "We all did. We all saw you talk to Malcolm. And we saw him grinning when you said my name." She turned to Gabrielle. "Please. You tell him in English what I said. You may love Malcolm but I do not trust him."

Gabrielle translated everything word for word, including the part about trust.

"Thanks, Phillippa, for asking for me to come."

"You are welcome," Phillippa said, this time in English. They shook hands.

"Dewey," she called as he turned to go. She leaned into him and whispered, "Je t'aime," and kissed him on the cheek.

Smiling, she and Marcel turned and ran laughing back to their dorms. Dewey stood there, a slightly glazed look on his face, his hand holding his cheek.

"TILL NEXT YEAR," he called out and waved.

They turned back and waved to him, then continued running from the hall.

"And a good time was had by all," Colin said wistfully.

"I'm sorry it's over, too," Malcolm added. He kissed Gabrielle goodbye and announced he was ready to leave."

"Um, we have a problem," Flitwick announced. "I had such a wonderful time, I forgot to re-tune the portkey. It's still set to bring five people back to Hogwarts."

"How long will it take to fix it?" Colin asked.

"I can do it in a couple of hours, but I need some things. I know I have them in my office . . ."

I have a great idea.

"Professor, how about this. Someone, like Gabrielle, maybe," Malcolm looked at her hopefully, "could volunteer to come with us back to Hogwarts, and I could give her a tour of the school while you reset the portkey."

"A wonderful idea. Especially for you. And it will take less time doing it that way." He looked at Gabrielle. "Could you stand to be awake two more hours with this young gentleman in the dashing hat? Ending with Breakfast in the Great Hall?"

Gabrielle smiled in delight. "I would be honored to help you, Professor, in your hour of need."

Five people grabbed the portkey to reappear in the main hall of Hogwarts Castle just as the Great Hall was opening for breakfast. In the Grand Hall of Beauxbatons, Camilla sighed.

"It must be wonderful to be young and in love."

"It is," Jean Paul said, as her took her chin in his hand and kissed her.

"I am lost," Gabrielle admitted. "And why are we in a classroom."

Malcolm smiled. "This used to be my classroom."

Gabrielle laughed. "My fiancé, the Professor."

"I was an excellent teacher. All my students loved me."

"And not only them," Gabrielle told him. She felt with her other hand the ring on her finger. "You made me very happy today. To know you will be there for me."

Taking his cue, Malcolm took her into his arms.

"What are they doing now," the one boy asked.

"They're still snogging," his friend replied.

"This will never work," the third boy said.

"Yes it will," said the sixth year with the weedy hair. He was from Slytherin but the others, all second years, didn't seem to mind because, "I promised Dewey I'd set this up. We've got to show his girlfriend how good Malcolm is at defense."

"But they're taking too long," the one boy complained.

"Maybe I should go and asked the Slytherins after all," Nott said half seriously. "It turns out I still have plenty of time."

"We'll do it," the third boy said, "We're just tired of waiting."

"A diversion," his friend suggested. He waved everyone behind the corner and knocked on the door. "Professor?"

Malcolm looked at the opening door while Gabrielle giggled. "What?"

"Professor McGonagall's around the corner. She wants to talk to you, privately. She didn't say what it was about."

Malcolm sighed. "I'll be right back." He followed the boy who ran to the end of the hall and disappeared to the right.

"I'll wait here," Gabrielle said, and closed the door as Malcolm left.

Nott, from his hiding spot on the left, signaled the boys that Malcolm was coming and that Gabrielle was watching. As Malcolm turned the corner, all three boys, their wands ready, each cast a different jinx. As Malcolm's arm went up, Nott used his wand to cast the Imperious Curse on him. There was a flash and Malcolm was standing there without his hat. He looked at the three boys while Nott quickly fled the other way.

"What the hell just happened?" He looked up at the walls around him in surprise. "Where the hell am I?"

Realizing that they had just goofed (that being the mildest word to use) the third boy held out his hand. "You'd better come with us." He took Malcolm's hand and led him as quickly and quietly as possible to Madam Pomfrey.