Chapter 26: The Holiday Are Coming

Hermione came up behind Malcolm as he sat in the common room and gave him a hug.

"Merry Christmas. How are you feeling?"

"Depressed. I had all these great plans back in September, and now I have nothing to do."

"You still have three days until the holiday starts. You could come visit my house for something to do."

"Hermione, can I get your opinion about something."

"No, I will not be your girlfriend, but I'm more than happy to pamper my baby brother."

Malcolm laughed. "You're taking Ginny's place."

"She's busy with Dean, and you do need someone to watch over you. Now, what did you really want to ask me."

"I've been having these dreams. And they've been coming true. It's scaring me."

"And these dreams are?"

"I dreamt Luna Lovegood came up to me and told me my horoscope. And then she did."

"That IS scary."

"No. That's weird. That was the last dream I had and the first one to come true. I've had seven altogether. Three have already come true. Luna and my prophecy. Reese showing up and stealing the ring I got for . . . Gabrielle. And my finding the ring after she left it behind."

Hermione mused on what that meant.

"Each dream centered on a different person" Hermione pointed out. "Luna, Gabrielle and Reese. What are the other four?"

"They're the strangest. One of them I don't remember. In another one, Ron is being nice to me. In the third one McGonagall is telling me I've been expelled, and the fourth one . . . do you remember Dabney?"

"I don't think I've ever met him. He's one of the Krelboynes."

"Yeah. In that dream, he has a wand and he can do magic."

"Then Dabney is secretly a wizard."

"No. Dabney is publicly a dweeb. On the other hand, Johnny was giving him magic lessons as part of a scam on the government."

"Then you're saying that Dabney can learn magic?"

"No. He's a muggle. He couldn't cast a spell if his life depended on it. His magical ability is listed as a negative number."

Passing it off, Hermione asked about another dream. "What can you recall about the dream you don't remember? I mean to ask, do you remember any of the details at all?"

"All I remember about that dream is that I don't remember about it, but I will when the time comes."

Hermione stared at Malcolm. "Those are definitely scary dreams."

"And what do you think?"

"Someone is trying to tell you something. But I have no idea what."

I felt a lot better before she said that.

"Why did Reese want the ring?"

"Who cares.

"This is it," Reese said. "We're doing it tonight."

Anthony looked up in disgust. "What are we doing?"

"I'm putting my big plan into action."

"You never told me what it was." Anthony paused. "If you want to keep it a secret, you don't have to tell me."

Reese laughed. "Okay, but you're part of it. I've got your uniform over there."

"My uniform?"

"You're the waiter." Reese was grinning so hard, Anthony started to panic.

"Why am I a waiter."

"You said you didn't want to know. You need to be dressed at exactly eight o'clock tonight. And we need to gut the teacher's lounge."

"Gut? As with a fish."

"No. As with furniture. Except for one table and two chairs."

Anthony held up his hands in exasperation. "WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO."

"Oh, I'm going to trick Filch into proposing to his girlfriend."

"I understand. You're going to set up the teachers' lounge as a private dining hall for two, cook them a gourmet meal which I will serve and then, somehow, get the Headmaster to propose to the Government Affairs teacher."

"Yeah. That's why I swiped Malcolm's ring after his girlfriend dumped him."

Anthony understood everything. And he suddenly understood how to accomplish all of this. All he had to do was to keep people from finding out that Reese was doing this because he thought marriage was a living hell.

"Well, if I'm going to be the waiter, I'd better be the one to get the "private dining room" set up." Anthony grinned wildly and high-fived Reese when the chef held his hand up. "The best part is: I'll have to miss all my classes for today."

Anthony took the uniform and left the kitchen area. He walked up to Regina, who was in charge of setting up the cafeteria.

"Missus Heart?"

"What did you do now, Anthony?"

"Reese and I are planning a private dinner, and I need some help."

"For whom."

Anthony used his best Lovey-Dovey voice. "Hector and Enid."

Regina Heart eyed the boy. "And how do you plan to do this?"

"Set up the teacher's lounge. Serve the dinner. And for dessert, she gets a fluffy pastry and he get a ring in a box held out for him to take, while she watches."

"And what does a scheming boy like you get out of it?"

"I have a history test today and I forgot to study."

Regina Heart laughed. "That's good enough for me. Those two have been eyeing each other for too long already. How do you plan on getting them to the lounge so late."

"I was going to ask you for an idea?"

Mrs. Heart paused, then smiled. "We'll make this a big scheme. Go tell Mister Percival, the caretaker, that there was a delay in the deliveries. The chef can feed the students on time, but can the teachers wait. And make sure he knows why you're telling him that."

Anthony did as he was instructed. Mister Percival laughed at the idea and began at once to inform all but one of the teachers of the plan.

"Ah, Headmaster," Percival said politely as he joined the teachers for lunch. "I've been telling the others about a problem with the deliveries for the cafeteria."

"Nothing serious I hope."

"For the students, no. But we are short of some of the basics. Now, I've talked with our suppliers and they are sending out the order but, because of mechanical problems on their part, the delivery will not be in time to prepare dinner for the teachers"

"This is preposterous."

"Tell him the rest, Percival," the history professor said with a laugh.

"The rest?" Hector Filch asked, noting the good humor of the teachers.

"It's Reese, Sir. The head chef. He wants to use the extra time to try a few new recipes. I told him I would ask you about rescheduling our dinners for eight, and perhaps using the teachers' lounge for a dining hall. That way we don't have to keep the kitchen staff late."

Hector Filch was curious. Especially after hearing about new recipes. Making Reese the school chef had been one of his strokes of brilliance (or blind luck). He still needed to make sure of all the details.

"If we have the dinner in the lounge, we'll need servers. And school finances . . ."

"Student Volunteers," the history professor offered before Percival could reply. I've got six form first thing this afternoon. I can round up enough boys to do the job."

Percival smiled. They had gone to college together. They were even roommates for a while. While everyone in Nineteenth Century History tried to pick esoteric subjects for their papers, Old Barnaby chose to do his paper on the history of naval press gangs during the Napoleonic Wars.

Filch laughed at the professor's offer and conceded. "If no one objects, we'll have a late dinner in the lounge."

"Headmaster," the English Professor asked, raising her hand out of habit. "If the chef is going to be cooking one of his special meals, perhaps we could make a party of it. This could be our Christmas party instead of tomorrow. We could even dress up."

"In costumes?" History asked.

"No, you Ninny," Geography answered, putting in his opinion. "Fancy Dress. I wouldn't presume for tuxedos and ballroom gowns, but I've no objection to putting on my best suit and tie."

"That does sound like a grand idea."

The other teachers were slightly surprised. Those words had come from the one female teacher no one had told the truth to. But they knew they had won. If it pleased Enid, Hector would go along with it.

"Anthony?"

Hector Filch, dressed to the nines, stared at his student. The boy's outfit shouted elegance. It also left no doubt as to what he was there for.

"I will be your server tonight, Sir. Excuse me, you have company."

Anthony's head turned to look down the hall as Enid approached.

"You look stunning, my dear," Hector said as he held his hand out to her. "Green does become you."

Enid blushed as she smoothed out an imaginary wrinkle on her gown. "This old thing. I rarely have a chance to wear it anymore."

"Shall I escort you in?" Hector asked as they hooked arms. He turned to Anthony. "We are ready to make our entrance."

Anthony opened the double doors to the teacher's lounge and led the way. The room was empty except for one lone table in the middle of the room. Candle stands had been placed around and away from the table to give the room light.

"It's beautiful," Enid said, "but . . ."

Anthony interrupted. "I was told to wish the two of you a Merry Christmas on behalf of the entire staff of the school. Please follow me. And if you would like anything to drink while waiting for the appetizers, we have a sufficient enough bar for making cocktails."

Amazed and surprised the two sat down, gave their drink orders and waited.

"This was skillfully done," Hector admitted. "I never suspected a thing."

"Even the music is wonderful. I love classical music when the lights are low."

Hector and Enid had a wonderful meal. Half the time they barely recognized what they were eating. Then the dessert came. Each received a strawberry mousse sculptured in the shape of a heart. Raspberry sauce was laid across the dessert in the shape of an arrow. Also, in front of Hector, was placed a small wooden box.

"Hector?" Enid asked. "What is that?"

"I don't know." Hector said. "Hopefully, it's not the bill."

He opened the box and saw the ring. There was a small note inside that he could read. It said 'it will fit her pinky'. Hector finally realized what was going on. Enid was looking at him in curiosity. He had to say something.

"Enid, dearest, do you remember just last month, when we visited the kitchens and you started kneading that dough at Reese's request."

Enid was puzzled. She kept looking at the box. Then at Hector. She thought she knew what was in the box. She hoped she knew what was in the box. But why were they talking about making bread. "I remember. Then Reese suddenly pulled it from me, saying I shouldn't do that. It was strange."

"Well, strange as it seems," Hector palmed the note and turned the box around, "we were only able to get the ring size of your smallest finger."

"Oh, Hector. It's beautiful."

Hector took the ring out of the box. Then he stood up so that he could kneel next to her.

"Enid, will you marry an old fool."

"No, but I'll marry you."

She sighed as he put the ring on her finger. She knew Hector loved her. It had barely been a year since they met, but she already had her doubts about him. He never seemed able to commit himself. But to have planned all this. He must have spent weeks planning this entire night. If possible, she loved him more than ever.

Hector, on the other hand, was no fool. He never told her that the night was a complete surprise to him as well.

Dewey confronted Malcolm as they left the Great Hall after dinner.

"Malcolm, we have to talk."

"No we don't Dewey. I'm completely over . . . that girl."

"What girl?"

"You know. Her. I . . . forget her name."

"Right. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. Can we talk someplace quiet?"

"Yeah. I know a spot. Filch never bothers searching that area."

Dewey was amazed. "He doesn't? Why not?"

"There's nothing there. Just empty rooms with cold stone floors and maybe the odd bit of furniture."

"Oh. How often do you go there?"

"Just once. There's really nothing there."

"Timmy does not understand."

Francis tried to give the house elf a friendly smile. "We're decorating the Christmas Tree. It's supposed to be a group effort. That's what gives it the personal touch."

"But Timmy can do it for you. Without any effort."

"That's not the point. The point is that we take the time to decorate the tree. It's supposed to bring us closer together as a family."

Piama snorted. "Did that ever work with your family."

"Yeah, if you ignore Reese smashing any ornaments he didn't like. Or Dewey eating all the threaded popcorn, without removing the thread. Or Malcolm lecturing everyone on fire hazards. Or my Mom yelling all the time. How about your family?"

"My mother converted to Judaism every December 24."

Francis nodded. "That's cold."

The house elf interrupted.

"Timmy does not understand. Is he supposed to break things?"

Francis and Piama looked at each other and nodded. Francis turned back to Timmy.

"Just go ahead and decorate it your way."

Timmy smiled and snapped his fingers. Bulbs, tinsel and lights suddenly appeared on the tree. It looked magnificent.

"Not bad for a first try," Francis told him. "We'll let you do this every year."

Timmy beamed with happiness.

"You know, Francis. He took those bulbs out of the boxes without opening them. If he puts them back the same way, we could return them for credit."

"Good thinking. We could save up some money fast that way." He and Piama snuggled on the couch. "By the way, I bought a bottle of spiced rum to mix with the egg nog."

Piama smiled. "I forgot to buy the egg nog."

Francis frowned, then nodded. "That'll still work. I'll get the glasses."

Piama put her arms around Francis. "You don't have to. Timmy. Could you get two glasses, please. And fill them half way with rum and the other half with ice."

Happy to have something to do, Timmy took two glasses. He remembered this time to make sure they were empty. He snapped his fingers and spiced rum magically appeared in the two glasses, filling both of them halfway. An equal amount of rum disappeared from the bottle. Timmy snapped his fingers again and the top half of each glasses was filled with a solid, glass-shaped block of ice.

Timmy went back to the den and sat the drinks down on the coffee table, making coasters appear under them. Then he stepped back and smiled.

"Does master want anything else?" He paused. "Can Timmy do anything else for Mistress?"

Timmy's eyes grew sad as he noticed Francis's hand untwined itself from the passionate embrace and wave him away. That meant Timmy was not needed and should spend the next few hours anywhere else but in the apartment. He cheered up at the thought that he could visit the house elves in the ranch kitchen. One of them was his age and her nose came to a beautiful point.

"Draco is hiding something," Dewey insisted.

"Isn't that obvious," Malcolm told him. "You know what Reese did over the summer. Who knows what trouble Draco's in."

"He makes Crabbe and Goyle parade around as girls."

That's a side of Draco I didn't want to know.

"Do they look cute?"

Dewey fumed. "I'm serious, Malcolm. He uses Polyjuice Potion to make them change. And it's not always the same two girls. It's any two girls, or even guys."

"You're not making sense. What does he do after he makes them change?"

"They go off somewhere and do something."

"There you go. Draco's working on some secret project and is using Crabbe and Goyle as lookout. He uses Polyjuice Potion so that no one will notice that Crabbe and Goyle are always in the same place."

"Are you sure?"

"It's either that or Draco's totally twisted. Take your pick."

Dewey nodded. "Thanks, Malcolm. I was worried about him. Do you think it's an evil secret project."

Malcolm thought briefly. "It could be. Considering his parents are big supporters of You-Know-Who-Who-Is-Not-Related-To-Us."

"Do you think he'll let us help?"

"We could ask, but when he gets involved in something, he always has to do it himself. He hates having to share credit with anyone. Except Stevie."

"Someone's coming."

"No problem. This room has a hidden cabinet."

"I thought you didn't come here much?"

"Only once. But I was here for quite a while. And you don't have to worry, there's a silence spell on it so you can hear what's going on and no one can hear you."

"That's really convenient. Did you do that?"

"Had to. Mrs. Norris was looking for me and Filch was with her. I had to know when they left."

"Hey, that's Snape," Dewey said as he listened to the voices. "And he's with Draco."

The two listened to the short conversation with few questions. One of them was: "What an Unbreakable Vow? Is that like when you agreed to be in that stupid contest last year?"

"Yeah, but that was more like the junior version. I would have lost all my magic or something like that. This is the go for broke version. You lose and you lose." Malcolm drew a hand across his throat.

Dewey nodded. Just then, Snape yelled at Draco that he was acting like a child. It was followed by footsteps storming out of the room.

"Was that Draco or Snape?" Dewey asked.

"Stupid boy," Snape was heard to mutter. "He'll get us all killed."

Malcolm smiled. "Do you want my best guess?"

"So, do we hang around until he decides to leave? After all, this is your private place. No one ever comes here. At least not the one time you were here. Except for Filch. And now we're trapped in here because of a stupid professor who also knows about this place." Dewey heaved. "Well? Say something."

Nothing I say right now would be appropriate. So I'll try for polite.

"Merry Christmas Professor Snape. It's amazing . We were going into the broom closet in the hallway outside of, um, potions because we spilled something and we wanted a broom, and now we're here. It's like magic."

Snape gave Malcolm a look that said he was too tired to sneer as he stood there holding open the door to the cupboard. "Malcolm. Even Dewey wouldn't believe that malarkey."

"Yes, I would," Dewey offered.

"Shut up, Dewey. I assume the two of you heard everything."

Both boys nodded.

"And you do know that I'm trying to help Draco."

"Yeah," Dewey answered. "We were talking about Draco just before you arrived. Malcolm even warned me that Draco's a do-it-yourselfer."

"Really? I always thought of him as the type to try and get someone else to do it."

"Unless he can't," Malcolm explained. "If he has to do it, he wants to do it by himself. That way he can take the credit if he does good . . ."

Snape finished the sentence, "or blame it on the fact that nobody would help him. Thank you, Malcolm. And if by chance you can get through to him, I really do want to help."

"We're stuck here for Christmas," Malcolm assured the Professor. "We'll work on him once we get him alone."

Then Dewey asked, "Are you going back to Slughorn's party?"

"That's a great idea," Malcolm added.

"You can't come, Malcolm. After what you did to Graham Pritchard, Slughorn won't allow it."

"What did you do to Graham?" Dewey asked.

"Nothing. And besides, Pomfrey cured him in less than an hour." He turned back to Snape. "I thought it was because of what I did to Blaise Zabini?"

This time Snape asked. "What did you do to Zabini?"

"Nothing. And besides, Slughorn cancelled the spell almost immediately."

"Then I suppose there's no reason you can't come," Snape suggested. "And in my book, no reason is as good as any. Go back to your dorm, Malcolm, before I send Filch for you. Come along, Dewey. You're late as it is."

Dewey was invited. Why?

Avery leaned into the microphone. "HELLLLLLOOOO, HOGWARTS. Welcome one and all to the first annual Christmas Slugfest."

In the midst of the applause, Slughorn suggested to Snape that "they might want to find a new name for the party."

"It went over well enough," Snape pointed out. "It's not often you get a double entendre that has nothing to do with sex."

"For our first number tonight, we would like to do a song by the Vampire Girls which was also a crossover hit in the muggle world. We changed the melody a bit to suit our style."

Graham set the mood by opening with a brief drum solo. Avery swung his guitar into place and began to play the rhythm. Dewey played his sax with a muted tone as Avery began to sing: "I cast a spell on you . . ."