A/N: It's Thanksgiving here (It's the official twenty four hour markdown to the pre Christmas diet. The PCD is not an effort to lose weight. It's successful if you gain less than five pounds between the two holidays) AND we had snow last night (It didn't stick).

A note to Azari Kaiya Son, most of your answers are in this chapter. Thanks for the review. And to Mandraco: Frankie does appear again in this chapter, but I don't think it's what you meant.

To everyone else. Thank you for reading and reviewing.

Chapter 24: There and Back Again

Daniel insisted on picking Malcolm up in the morning and driving him to the set. They had barely started out when Daniel asked his question.

"I wanted to know. What's he like. I only play him on film. But you know him. You've been at the same school. You've talked to him."

"He's . . ." Malcolm shrugged his shoulders. "He's Harry Potter. You've read the books. You know as much about him as I do."

"I know facts. At least, now, I know they're facts. You know, it is a bit hard for me. I just found out yesterday that the fantasy film I'm making is actually a documentary. I wanted to know something about his habits. What does he eat for breakfast?"

Malcolm laughed. "Wow. You're asking about the greatest wizard in literature and you want to know what he eats for breakfast."

"It's a start." Daniel let his irritation show.

"Fine. What does the great Harry Potter eat for breakfast." Malcolm's smile faded and a serious look took it's place. "Harry Potter? What is he like? He's sixteen. He's shorter than you but he had a recent growth spurt. He'll probably catch up. And his hair's distinctly black. Not merely dark like yours. At a glance you look the same. Harry's also thinner. I guess it's because he never had much to eat when he was younger. People like that tend to either remain thin or become really fat."

Malcolm looked over at Daniel. "He has a distinct way of eating, you know. He'll pick up a piece of steak or a hamburger or even a french fry, and he'll hold it as though he's trying to protect it, to make sure no harm comes to it until he can put it in his mouth. There's always an intensity about him when he's eating. Even when he's not paying attention to what he's doing. That's what Harry is like."

"Intense without realizing it?"

"Yeah. When he plays Quidditch, he puts everything into it. He doesn't decide to. He just does. He's not afraid to take risks, and if he's sure of something then nothing can stop him. Even common sense." Malcolm's voice became low. "That's why his godfather died. Harry screwed up."

"It must be hard living with that."

"It is. But Harry has to live with it, and so he does. He'll try to learn from his mistake and pay back his debt by doing better in the future. He knows that's all he can do."

"He sounds like a great guy."

"Or a jerk. It depends on which side of him you look at. He's either strong-willed or pig-headed. He's either confident in himself, or filled to the brim with his own self worth."

Daniel looked at Malcolm curiously. "And he's your friend?"

"No. He doesn't care for me. And his friend, Ron, can't stand me. My best friend at school is Draco Malfoy."

"But . . . Malfoy's in Slytherin?"

"Yeah. And so is Dewey."

A figure appeared on the road ahead, and Daniel pulled over.

"Mister Abercrombie, do you need a ride."

"I needed to talk to Malcolm before you get to the studio."

Malcolm excused himself and went with Miklos as they walked away from the car.

"Did you discover anything?' Malcolm asked hopefully.

"Yes, we did. Malcolm, we don't know what you're thinking but we figured out that you will find a way home."

"There's no way you can figure out something like that."

"There is. It's called psychology. We know that you are a genius. We know that you have perfect recall. We know that you are more advanced in magic than you should be. We also know that you have almost no motivation to use your skills for the forces of good. Or the forces of evil for that matter."

"You're saying I'm lazy."

"No. Apathetic. To put it a nicer way. You're a teenager, and you only think about yourself. Which, for a teenager, is completely normal."

"Are you done insulting me."

"For now. The point is, we know you are going to figure out a way back in the next few days. At least we're 83 sure. And if we're correct, if you can't figure it out by the end of the week, you never will."

"So, you're saying I'll probably be home by the end of the week."

"Exactly, and we also know why you wanted to read that book."

Something's not right.

Miklos showed Malcolm his wand. "Allas mnim. Malcolm, you did not read the book. But you plan to read it. You plan on taking it with you. But when you discover how to go home, you will be too wrapped up in the need to leave, that you will not remember to bring the book until after you are gone."

"So, you're saying I'll be home by the end of the week."

"It's your mind, Malcolm. You're constantly thinking. When I talked to you last night about all those things you did at Hogwarts, it was to try to develop a pattern of the way you think."

"And you think I can do it?"

"I know you can, Malcolm. And I know you will figure it out faster if you have confidence in yourself."

Something's not right.

"Mister Abercrombie, why do you want me to go home all of a sudden."

Miklos put his hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "After we talked, I had a conversation with your mother, about what happened in the hospital. It was too crowded for me to follow you in. She told me about Gabrielle." He removed his hand and used it to punch Malcolm lightly in the shoulder. "All I ask is you consider Greece for a honeymoon. Ask Euan, when you get back. He'll tell you some great places to go."

"That's cool. I'm always telling him where to go."

"GO. BEGONE. GET TO WORK. NO MORE STUPID JOKES."

As they drove off, Malcolm looked back and waved. It seemed like a stupid conversation. But Malcolm knew Miklos was right. Without thinking, Malcolm took the book under his jacket and tossed it in the back seat.

"Ten minutes," someone shouted into the makeup trailer.

"They're on their way."

"So let me get this straight," Malcolm asked Justin. "This is the final scene but we still have five more days of filming."

"Yeah. They have to tear this set down tonight to build the potions class. That's three different scenes with that set. Do you know your lines?"

"Yeah, I read the script. I just hope I don't screw it up."

"Worst come to worst, We'll change the show to Reese in the Middle and I'll do all your lines."

"Very funny. Who writes your material."

"That guy there," Justin said, pointing to the man sitting next to the director.

A man waved them over to the set. "Are both of you ready? Frankie, you clear on what to do?"

"Can you run it past me? The last time I did this I took two days off."

"That's your mark. You walk into the scene as a group of kids wave their wands at you and you wave the wand yell some gibberish."

"Protozoa."

"Daniel walks up behind you . . ."

"Got it. I brag about how I did magic and then Snape walks up with his wand and says no I didn't."

"That's right. You give Daniel the wand. Alan tells you to leave in his Snapiest voice and you run down the hall stopping there. Justin and Erik suddenly appear. Alan yells. All three of you exit off the sound stage."

"That's not very funny," Malcolm said.

The man shrugged his shoulder's that's the script. That's what you're paid to do. If you have a problem, talk to Linwood."

"Okay,"

"Ma . . ., uh, Frankie," Justin said, "What are you doing?"

"I thought of a funnier ending. You were complaining they took out your fart joke because they needed the ten seconds. This could get that scene back in."

Justin smiled. "Okay, Malcolm, you're the genius. Let's talk to Linwood." He turned. "HEY, BOOMER."

Everyone went quiet.

Malcolm smiled. The idea of being filmed so that millions of people could watch him was not a frightening thought. The idea of dozen's of people stopping work to watch him was extremely frightening.

"What do I call him," Malcolm whispered to Justin. "Linwood or Boomer."

Justin whispered back, "I'd try, Sir."

Malcolm nodded. "SIR."

"Good choice for a first word, Frankie. What do you want?"

"I think the ending sucks, and I have a better idea."

"And the idea is?"

Malcolm told him.

"Personally, I like it," Alan said. "But I'd add something to it."

"Twenty minutes," someone called out. "Kid's get to school. Everyone else, coffee and donuts."

Malcolm steps around the corner to see a group of younger wizards. They shout spells at him and he shouts back, "Protozoa." There is a flash and the junior wizards fall backward. As they pick themselves up and flee, Malcolm turns to Harry Potter who has just come up.

"Did you see that? I DID IT. I CAST A SPELL."

"That was amazing," Harry adds in disbelief.

"That was pathetic," Severus Snape says as he steps up behind the two. "You didn't cast any spell at all. All you did was recite a biology lesson. Now give Potter back his wand."

Malcolm gives Harry back his wand with an apology.

"Mister Potter, you will see me for detention tomorrow, but for now escort this poor excuse for a muggle from the school. His parents are waiting for him at the entrance."

"Yes, Sir." Harry leads Malcolm away.

"Not so fast," Snape says in a quieter, more menacing voice. The camera pans down to show Dewey holding a wand. "I'll take that back, if you don't mind."

Dewey hands over the wand. "My birthday's next week. I'll be Eleven."

Snape sneers. "We'll owl you your letter."

"CUT" the director yelled. "Okay, let's do the dialogue again for closeups."

"Thanks," Justin complained. "Not only doesn't the fart joke get in, I lose my screen time, and Erik and Rickman get a bigger scene."

"It is funnier that the original ending," Malcolm tried to point out. "And it did save three seconds. I talked Linwood into putting back the scene with the trick stair."

"Where Reese falls on his face? Malcolm, you are a genius."

"I'll say," Erik chimed in as he finally stepped off the set. "That spell that sent you here. I hope it never wears off."

"What."

"I said I agreed that you're a genius."

"That's it." Malcolm looked around. "I can do it. All I have to do is cancel the spell. My wand. I left it in my trailer."

"Where's Frankie going?" Mrs. Muniz asked as she walked up to the boys.

"To get his wand," Erik said. "He's going home."

"Frankie's coming back?" Mrs. Muniz ran out to the trailer. Eric and Justin followed him. Daniel, talking with Alan Rickman, noticed Erik's Dad leaving to follow them. He excused himself and ran out to the trailer as well.

Malcolm opened the door and stepped out of the trailer to face a small group. "I can't do it."

"The spell doesn't work?" Justin asked.

"No. It works. But I have a range problem. I wasn't holding my wand when I cast the spell. And I can't cancel the spell unless I'm holding the wand."

"And that means?"

Eric's Dad answered. "It means that someone else has to cancel the spell."

"With my wand," added Malcolm.

"But who can do that?"

"I can," Alan Rickman said. He walked up and grabbed Malcolm's wand stepped back and pointed it. "Finite Incantatum." He handed the wand back. "There. The spell's been cancelled. Now, if you're done playing. I want to know why all of you ran out. We'll start with you, Mister Muniz."

"Why are you here asking me?"

"Because there was another electrical accident and I volunteered to find why you ran out while everyone else is trying to figure out what happened inside."

"Malcolm?" Mrs. Muniz asked.

Malcolm looked sheepish. "Sorry. I lost my temper and destroyed the couch. I put it back together though. Wait. I've had a thought. Dewey, Erik, wave the wand."

"We tried that last night. Remember."

"Did we? I forgot. I'm so flustered. I'm so close to getting home."

"What's going on," Alan Rickman asked Daniel Radcliffe.

"That's Malcolm. Not the character that Frankie plays. Well, he is the character, but this is the real Malcolm."

"The real Malcolm has a wand?"

"He's a wizard and he goes to Hogwarts."

"Do you realize how stupid that sounds? Next you'll be telling me you're the real Harry Potter."

"That's ridiculous. He's shorter than I am, anyway. And his hair's black."

Alan looked around him. "You're serious? And what is this spell he wants to cancel?"

"The spell that brought him here."

"And you need an actual wizard?"

Daniel nodded. "And now you know everything."

"Fine. I'll find one."

Everyone just got real quiet. Just like when Justin yelled "Hey, Boomer."

"How?" Daniel asked.

"Simple logic. We're in a situation where we have to perform magic by getting rid of it. For that, we need to find an unknown wizard, since we obviously don't know any known wizards. I suggest we test those boys they brought over for that group shot of the first years. One of them is guaranteed to be a wizard and not know it."

"How can you know that?"

"Because we're in an absurd situation and that is the most absurd conclusion I can think of. Thank you very much. If anyone needs me I'll be in my trailer getting drunk."

"Mister Rickman," Malcolm asked. "Where are these first years."

"Good God, you're serious about this. Fine. They're waiting on the next sound stage. Follow me." He turned around. "Not everybody. Just him." He pointed at Malcolm. "And you," he said waving at Daniel when he insisted on coming. Alan stared at Frankie's mother and shrugged his shoulders. "Let's get going them."

After ten paces he turned to Daniel. "They're all following anyway. Aren't they?"

Daniel looked back. "They are."

"Let's get this over with."

He marched the small crowd over to the next sound stage, walked in, told everyone to wait, then walked over to a group of seven boys, all eleven and twelve."

"God," he whispered to himself. "I would have to be in costume." He glared at the boys. "All right. I need to know which one of you is the most pathetic of the lot."

"Me." "NO, ME." "NO, I AM, SIR." "IT'S ME." 'PICK ME."

Alan eyed the crowd of boys now jumping and waving their hands, eager to be picked.

"You, the one who didn't bother. Come with me." He turned back to the other boys, all completely stunned. "I told you I wanted the most pathetic. Did you think I was joking?"

He walked the boy out of the sound stage. "Pathetic boy. This is Harry Potter. You know him already. This is Malcolm. You're lucky you don't know him. Malcolm is actually a wizard trapped in our world by a cruel spell. And all of us want him to go home. Very badly."

"An' what about me?" the boy asked.

"You are secretly a powerful wizard and you are the only one here with the ability to remove the spell."

"Right. An' you called me pathetic."

"Here's all you have to do." Alan walked over and grabbed Malcolm's wand. He walked back to the boy. "Point the wand at him and say, "Finite Incantatum."

The boy laughed nervously. "This is a wand? It feels funny."

Malcolm's eyes lit up in surprise. "You can feel it?"

Daniel looked at Malcolm in disbelief. "You mean it worked? He really is a wizard?"

"We can find out," Malcolm said, then turned to the boy. "Cast the spell."

The boy nodded with a smirk, "Finite Incantatum."

The wand sparked, but nothing else happened.

"What was that?" the boy asked. "I felt something."

"You didn't think about what you're doing." Malcolm explained. "That's why the spell fizzled out. You can't do magic unless you believe."

"That's good," Alan said, sarcastically, "And don't forget, boy, if you do this properly, you get to take potions lessons from me."

"Slughorn teaches potions now," Malcolm commented. "You teach the Dark Arts."

"Oh," Alan said snidely. "No wonder I didn't recognize you. You're from the book. Not the movie."

"That's right," Malcolm said. "I forgot about the book."

The boy, excitement in his eyes, shouted, "FINITE INCANTATUM."

"Nice special effects," Justin said as the flash faded and Malcolm stood there wearing Gryffindor robes.

Malcolm looked up and saw Mrs. Muniz. "MOM." And ran into her arms. "I'm back. I'm so glad to be back."

He looked up when he heard a popping noise. "Who's that?"

"He's a wizard, dear. We'll explain later."

"Excuse me," Alan Rickman dared to say. "Does anyone know what happened to that boy?"

"Oh Goody. You're back," Severus Snape said casually as Malcolm appeared in the middle of his classroom.

"Is class over?"

"It's Sunday. There is no class. I dragged you in here because you were in the hallway and about to make a verbal mistake. But then the real you came back. Who is that, and why is he staring at me."

"I don't know, Sir. I guess he came back with me because he was holding my wand." Malcolm slipped the wand out of the boy's hand and stuck it in his own belt.

"How pathetic. They'll probably make him a student as a reward."

"A student?" the boy asked suddenly. "Really."

"Yes. And from the looks of you, you'll end up someplace dismal, like Gryffindor."

The boy's eyes went wide. "Gryffindor? Do you really think so?"

"It's guaranteed."

Everyone was back at the hotel for a final review of the day. Miklos Abercrombie was there with another wizard. They were talking in their own language.

"What are they doing?" Frankie asked.

"They're talking." Erik answered.

"I can see that."

"They're talking in Greek."

"Yeah but what are they saying?"

Erik shrugged his shoulders. "It's Greek to me."

Frankie thought for a minute, then smiled. "Shut up, Dewey."

"Everything's back to normal," Mrs. Muniz told Mister Abercrombie as they walked outside the hotel. "Frankie has a hundred stories to tell about that school. It was an amazing adventure."

Miklos nodded. "And everyone is going to keep quiet about it. I didn't need to use any magic."

"About Malcolm. Did we do the right thing?"

"Not we. I. I'm the one who did it."

"Every adult agreed with you. Malcolm should not know his future."

"Because he doesn't know all of it. I'm sorry. Three days ago, this was all just a story. Characters in a book. But my universe is much bigger now. And I know that because of my actions, Severus Snape will murder Albus Dumbledore. I will always wonder if I really did the right thing."

Mrs. Muniz nodded her head slowly. "I think that every day, about every choice I make concerning my children. It's taken years, but I'm beginning to think I made some pretty good choices. You'll find out later how good your choice really was."

Miklos snorted. "When the next book comes out?"

"No. When Malcolm comes back. He figured out how to go home because you told him he could figure it out. How long do you think it will be before he figures out how to come back?"

"You're scaring me."

She laughed. "He has to let us know what happened to that boy. The one that nobody remembers ever existed."

"We knew the boy was an orphan, and we knew he had the ability. We had arranged for him to be there to give him a glimpse of what magic was like. The look of it, at least." Miklos shrugged. "Now he'll learn Latin instead of Greek. And maybe Malcolm will bring him along when he comes back."