Chapter 27: The Happy Holidays

"I'M WARNING YOU BOYS. YOU HAD BETTER BE ON YOUR BEST BEHAVIOR. THAT MAN, DUMBLEDORE IS DOING YOU A BIG FAVOR BY LETTING YOU STAY THERE. AND SO HELP ME, IF ONE OF YOU GETS OUT OF LINE I SWEAR I'LL MAKE HIM REGRET IT UNTIL HIS DYING DAY, WHICH WILL COME A LOT FASTER THAN HE WANTS IF HE CROSSES ME. AND TRY, FOR ONCE, TO HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS."

Only my mom would send a howler instead of a regular Christmas card. Not that we're ever going to have a Merry Christmas anyway.

"This is great," Reese said as he grabbed another omelet. "At my school the only reason I eat as good as this is because I have to do all the cooking. You know, it would improve the taste a little more if they used Spanish onion instead of Bermuda onion."

Malcolm scowled. "Shouldn't you be over at the Slytherin table?"

"Millicent went home for the holidays. And why would I want to sit with Dewey?"

Yeah, that is a good point.

"I'm curious, Reese. Not that I care or anything. But I was wondering what you did with my, um, with that ring."

"I gave it to Anthony to give to Filch."

"That would be Hector Filch. Your headmaster."

Can you imagine? Argus Filch's twin brother as headmaster. I'd hate going to school then.

"Reese, do you know what Filch did with the ring, or is that something that I should ask Anthony about. If I ever bother that is. I don't really care one way or the other."

Reese took a large gulp of pumpkin juice, then turned to Malcolm. "It was the greatest thing. I set Filch up on a date with his girlfriend, and had the ring delivered to him with the dessert. AND IT WORKED. Now, Filch has to get married."

"You tricked Filch into proposing."

"He WHAT?" Argus Filch asked from behind. He grabbed Reese and forced him to turn around. "You tricked him? I know Hector's not the bravest man in some things. I half expected him to bide his time until this one slipped away as well. " Filch smiled as he patted Reese's shoulder in a friendly fashion. "And you got him to do it. Good for him. And good for you."

Reese cast a quick glance at Malcolm. "I did a GOOD thing."

"Yeah."

As Filch went to leave, he added. "I owe you for that. Next time I find you in the bushes with the Bulstrode girl, I'll wait an extra five minutes."

"That was nice of him," Malcolm noted, but Reese didn't want to hear it.

"Malcolm, what do I do? My reputation is shot if everyone finds out that I set him up."

"Reese, get real. You lost your reputation when you became the school chef."

I still haven't figured that one out. I didn't think Reese could make a cup of tea without help.

Reese looked horrified. "But . . . how will I get people to respect me?"

"They already respect you, because you're a great cook."

"But I'm not doing it for them. I'm cooking because I enjoy it. The fact that they're paying me is just a bonus."

"They're paying you? Do Mom and Dad know?"

"Yeah. I even loaned Dad a hundred Quid until after the holiday. He said not to let mom know. I think he wants to surprise her." Reese refilled his glass. "So, why do people respect me, just because I can cook?"

"I don't know. How about because you're an excellent cook. From what I've heard, the only difference between your school's cafeteria and the average 5-Star restaurant is the size of the wine list. And now that you set it up so that the headmaster's getting married, people are going to think you're this really great guy. They won't even realize you're a jerk."

Reese turned to Malcolm. "I know you insulted me with that jerk part, but I can live with that. And I want to thank you for letting me know that I've fooled all of those people into thinking I was a good person."

You know, for a second there I thought he was going to hit me.

"OW!. Reese, you are a JERK."

Malcolm stormed off, rubbing his arm. "Hi, Draco."

"Pardon me, Malcolm, but I happen to be busy."

"Yeah, with you're secret project."

Draco paused. "What secret project?"

"The one you and Snape were talking about on the night of Slughorn's party . . . while Dewey and me were in the cupboard, hiding."

"I don't need any help, Malcolm. And just be happy that Snape didn't find out about you."

"He did. He checked the cupboard after you left to make sure it was empty."

"And he told you to try to talk to me."

"Kinda. After I told him we magically appeared in that cupboard after we entered another cupboard and we didn't hear anything."

Draco looked shocked. "Why did you make up that excuse?"

Malcolm looked surprised. "Why should you care what excuse I made? Snape didn't buy it anyway." Malcolm paused. "I figured it out."

Draco grabbed Malcolm's arm. "You're coming with me."

"So this is where Potter held his meetings last year."

"Yes and No. This is the Room of Requirement. It becomes whatever you need it to be. I need it to be a place to hide things."

"This isn't a room. It's a small town. And where is the cabinet?"

Draco led the way. "This is it. It's counterpart is in Borgen and Burkes in Knockturn Alley. Once I fix the problem with the spell, every Death Eater in the world can use it to get into Hogwarts."

"Nice plan."

"Reese thought of it. While he was me, of course. And he laid out his entire plan in his diary."

Malcolm's eyes went wide. "Reese keeps a diary."

"Mother told him he did. Curiously, the first entry was about how he told Mother he was too old to keep a diary anymore."

"You were telling the truth. Reese really was acting just like you."

Draco sneered. "He was acting the way Mother wanted him to act, except his subconscious must have remembered that I never trusted mother very much."

"How far away are you from completing the repairs."

"About five minutes."

Malcolm nodded. "And . . ."

Draco patted Malcolm's shoulder. "You do know, Malcolm, that if I don't complete this task, my life is forfeit as well as all of my family."

"Tha- That's just the immediate family. Right?"

"I think they'll make an exception for Aunt Bella."

Malcolm thought about it. "I've got it. Let's see? Yeah, this will do it. Malcolm twisted on one of the doors. "There. You see that gap. The door can't close properly because it's out of alignment. You can cast all the spells you want and it won't work. Even Reparo, because nothing's actually broken."

Draco smiled. "Thank you, Malcolm. I can't repair something which can't be repaired. That's a perfect excuse. You-know-who may consider me expendable after this but at least he wont expend me."

"Thank me after this is over."

I guess it's going to be a Merry Christmas after all

It was Monday, December 23. Malcolm, rose early in order to get away from Reese before he woke up. He dressed, and headed down to the Great Hall. Draco was waiting for him. He was ecstatic.

"I have great news, cousin. I was making the last adjustments to the spell. And it collapsed. It seems I was trying to solve the wrong problem. Now I have to start over."

"Do you think they'll buy it?"

"It's true. And they can verify it from their end." Draco heaved a sigh of relief. "I may live to breath another summer."

"How soon do you think you can fix it?"

"With your help, in two days. By myself, I'd say early May."

"And you don't want my help."

Draco grinned. "I always work best when I'm alone. You know that. If I let you help, you'd try to take all the credit, anyway. I can't have that." Draco's voice took a haughty tone. "Because when I succeed then I will be HIS most favored."

"Bravo, Bravo," Malcolm shouted as he applauded.

Draco obliged by taking a bow. "And now, cousin, I think we are ready for breakfast."

They both turned at a noise.

"Professor Lupin?" Malcolm asked in surprise. What are you doing here?"

Remus Lupin descended the stairs and walked quickly to the two students. "Please be quiet, Malcolm. I was hoping to leave early enough so that I would not be seen."

"Okay. You're not here, then. But if you ever get the chance, you could stop by."

Draco nudged Malcolm, and whispered. "You gave him an invitation."

"So what," Malcolm hissed back. "He's a werewolf, not a vampire. It doesn't make a difference."

Remus smiled politely. "Why don't I just say thank you and take my leave. I do have to be going."

"Merry Christmas, Professor."

"I'm not a professor anymore. Mister Lupin will do."

"Goodbye, Mister Lupin," Draco said coldly.

Lupin's voice had a scolding tone. "Such an attitude, and I never said a word against you."

There's that weird eye contact. That means they have some kind of secret between them that they don't want to tell me about. I'll ask Draco about it later.

Draco's voice softened. "Then I'll wish you a Merry Christmas as well."

Lupin spoke in the same tone. "Merry Christmas, Draco."

Draco grabbed Malcolm and ushered him into the Great Hall.

"What was that about?" Malcolm demanded.

"Nothing. Now shut up."

"I'm not Dewey."

"I don't care. Malcolm, I'll be serious. This is something you don't want to know about."

"Fine. I don't care anyway. I don't need to know anything."

Despite the calmness with which both of them spoke, they were now glaring at each other.

"I'll put 5 sickles on Draco," Dewey said casually. "And not because he's in my house."

"SHUT UP, DEWEY," two people said without looking away from each other.

"You're on, " Avery answered. "I've seen Malcolm in action, He's a scrapper."

"Why," Draco asked softly , "do you have to know EVERYTHING?"

"Quit talking. Throw a punch," Avery suggested.

"Don't encourage them," Dewey warned. "They'll act contrary out of spite."

"I'm concerned," Malcolm explained.

"You're nosey."

"That too. But when . . ." Malcolm noticed the two second-year Slytherins listening intently. "You're right, Draco. I have no right to ask."

"Dang," Dewey exclaimed. "And we were about to find out what the argument all was about."

"And they didn't even raise their wands," Avery bemoaned.

It was Christmas morning. Reese awoke earlier than usual. This would give him a chance to sneak down to the common room where all the presents were. With the careful switching of name tags, he could have an even better Christmas than he would otherwise. He quietly dressed, tip-toed to the door and opened it.

"STUDENT OUT OF BED. STUDENT OUT OF BED. STUDENT OUT OF BED."

Reese was forced to stop, not by the shouting, but by the fact that Peeves had thrown a trash can over his head and was banging on the sides in tune to his shouts.

"Thanks, Peeves," Malcolm said as he handed the Poltergeist a brightly wrapped package.

"YOU ARE," Peeves did a RAT-A-TAT-TAT on the waste basket, "WELCOME." He then flew away through the wall, taking the package with him.

"I'd love to know how he does that," Anthony said, "With the package, I mean. It was solid when you handed it to him."

"He used magic," Malcolm explained. He took the trash can off of Reese's head. "Going somewhere, brother dear."

Reese looked at Malcolm with surprise. "Did you set that up? Why? I was just going to the bathroom."

"And you got dressed first."

"Now I'm insulted. I was considerate enough to not risk waking you by being quiet. What did you think I was going to do?"

"The same thing you tried to do last year. Switch all the name tags so that you got all the biggest gifts."

"I never did that."

"OH? And I suppose last year you asked Mom and Dad for a Home Hair Salon."

"I was thinking of letting my hair grow. I asked for it just to be on the safe side."

Mom told me to give him the benefit of the doubt on that one, but that's because he went to the extent of actually using it to show he really wanted it . . . Then, Mom grounded him for a week.

"It doesn't matter anyway. McGonagall took all of our presents and put them in her office. We can't open them until after breakfast."

"Why'd she do that?"

"Mom told her to."

"Dang."

"It's really crowded this year," Euan Abercrombie said as he walked with Malcolm and the others to the Great Hall."

"You stayed here last year?"

"Yeah, in a way. My mum and dad came up to see me instead of me going home. They had a lot of fun so we decided to do it again this year, And it's safer, too. For me, that is. Mum gets scared easily."

"Yeah, we're stuck here this year, because it's too dangerous. That and my Dad pawned Nob off on one of the neighbors. I think they went to Florida."

"I heard Florida is nice."

Everyone stopped at what they saw.

"Hold it right there, You Varmints."

"What is that?" Reese asked.

"Thayet. Are you askin' What is Thayet? You should be askin' who is this. Ay'm Pecos Tim. Meanest hombre west of the Rio Grande."

Huh?

"Wait a minute," Malcolm insisted. "The Rio Grande runs roughly along the lines of latitude. You can't be west of the Rio Grande."

Pecos Tim scrunched his forehead in thought. "Should Timmy have said east?"

"You have to pick north or south."

The house elf nodded. "Ay'm Pecos Tim. Meanest Hombre north or south of the Rio Grande."

"No," Malcolm corrected. "You're only supposed to pick one of . . ."

Anthony grabbed Malcolm's arm. "It's not a problem. In fact it works better that way."

"At least it works," Professor Snape said as he walked by. He paused to look at the house elf. "Malcolm, I assume this one is yours. Did Thomas the Tank Engine wear out?"

"He's not mine, sir. He just appeared."

"Then your parents, perhaps. But no, the last house elf that dressed up at least was color coordinated. You should check with your brothers." He went away muttering about how standards have declined.

Malcolm looked at Reese. They both smiled.

"FRANCIS!"

"Yep," Pecos Tim replied. "Frank's my compadre, sure 'nough. And he asked me to drop off his gifts to all of you personally." Then Pecos Tim smiled.

"That's great," Reese said. "Where are they?"

The house elf grinned.

"The gifts?" Malcolm prodded.

The house elf was still grinning.

"Timmy forgot something. Timmy will be right back."

"Master, Mistress," Timmy said hurriedly. "I stopped your brother's like you told me. But there were four of them."

"Four?" Piama asked. "Would that be Nob?"

"It makes sense. At least he's with family. Timmy, you only have to make one trip. Just take all four presents . . . they're still here."

"Bad Timmy. Forgetful Timmy. Bad. Bad. Bad. Timmy will punish himself later."

Francis stopped Timmy. "Listen, you had to come back anyway. Just tell yourself you lucked out."

"Thank you, Master. Francis is too good to Timmy. Timmy will deliver presents promptly." Timmy gathered up the gifts and twirled his glued-on mustache. "Pecos Tim will make sure the mail gets through, Don't you worry, Frank, li'l missy."

After he apparated, Piama took Francis's arm. "I don't know which personality I can't stand more."

"I'm leaning towards Pecos Tim, myself. I hate when he calls me Frank."

"It's been five minutes," Euan pointed out. "I'm heading in to breakfast."

"Whoa, hold on there, boy," Pecos Tim said as he suddenly reappeared. "I didn't have enough presents to go around, so I went back and got more stuff. Ain't goin' to give no gifts an' leave anyone empty-handed. Here ye go, young'un."

Euan accepted the wrapped present gracefully, and waited while the house elf passed out the rest of the gifts. The elf promptly vanished.

"That was strange," Euan pointed out.

"Was it?" Anthony asked. "I wouldn't know. He was friendly though. I wonder what he gave me."

Good question. What would a demented house elf give a complete stranger.

"Let's sit down first," Malcolm suggested.

"This is great," Reese said as he opened his gift. "A rifle. Hey, there aren't any bullets."

"It's not a real gun Reese. It say's on that plaque that it's a replica."

"Dang," Reese stated then decided to change his mind. "It's a good gift. At least it looks real."

It is real. But Reese doesn't have to know that. And I bet Francis removed the firing pin or something.

"Hey," Reese complained, "The trigger doesn't work."

it's okay. Francis soldered the trigger into place.

"It's not supposed to. I'm following Euan and Anthony. I'm hungry."

Malcolm sat down as Anthony was opening his present.

"This is interesting. Thin strips of wood. But then, you did say the house elf was demented."

Malcolm smiled. "Wrap it back up. We can give it to Dewey. It'll be fun watching his face when he opens it. Euan, what did you get."

"A book. The One Hundred Unsolved Mysteries of Science."

"I'll trade you," Anthony joked.

"I remember that book. My teacher took five of the questions from the physics section and gave it to us as a pop quiz. I was upset. I only got three right."

Reese snickered. "They made him a Krelboyne because of that."

I hated it. There wasn't enough room in the school so we had to have classes in a trailer out by the tetherball court.

"Malcolm?" Euan asked, pointing at the package.

"Okay, here goes."

Malcolm opened his gift with muted expectations, which turned out to be justified.

"What are those?" Euan asked.

"This isn't broken," Reese said, holding up his hand. "It had this plastic piece blocking the trigger." Reese paused as he looked at the oversized mittens that Malcolm was holding. "Are those OVEN MITTS?"

"Yeah, I think."

"That's exactly what I need. The ones at the school are completely worn out." Reese stood up, his rifle in his hands. "Malcolm, give me those oven mitts. It's obvious we were given the wrong gifts."

Malcolm carefully handed the oven mitts, heavily embroidered with cows, to Reese. Reese, smirking, handed Malcolm the rifle. It was obvious to him that he got the better end of the deal. At least, he could use the oven mitts. He turned to Malcolm tauntingly.

"Oh, by the way. There's no ammo."

The psychological complexities of what just happened here boggle even my mind.

"Wow," Anthony said, mockingly. "An authentic replica. What are you going to do with that?"

Malcolm glanced at the teachers' table. "I'm going to get an 'A' in Care of Magical Creatures."

Malcolm got up, rifle held at the ready, and walked up to Professor Hagrid.

"Excuse me, Sir."

"Wha's that ye have there, Malcolm."

"My brother sent it. He works at a dude ranch, so wizards can experience the wild west, muggle style."

"Those places can be quite expensive," Professor Trelawny commented.

Professor Flitwick leaned forward. "I understand the wild west was a violent place."

I couldn't have worked this out better if I tried.

"They were, Professors. And many times, the only thing that stood between innocent people and the forces of darkness was the town sheriff. And they couldn't use magic, so they made weapons to shoot pieces of HOT LEAD at each other."

This is great. Professor Flitwick is amazed. McGonagall and Trelawney look horrified. And Hagrid looks like a big kid who's just been reminded it's Christmas.

"Well, Professor Hagrid, my brother tells me that the most popular weapon was the Winchester Rifle, and asked me to find a home for this fine replica of an historical weapon."

Hagrid took the rifle gingerly, as though he might break it. "An' this is exactly like the ones they used."

"Yes, Sir."

"I - I'll have to figure out where best to put it."

"Well, Sir, in the old days, the rifle would be mounted over the door. It isn't in the way, and within easy reach whenever you go out."

"Tha's a great idea. Thank ye, Malcolm."

Hagrid clasp Malcolm's shoulder warmly in gratitude.

It's okay. The bones are only crushed. I'll have Madam Pomfrey heal it right after breakfast.

Professor Vector waved him over. "Malcolm."

"Yes, Grandma."

"You did something wonderful. You do know that."

"Getting rid of the rifle?"

"That too. But He hasn't been himself since his three favorite students stopped taking his class. He feels that he isn't appreciated. At least he felt that way. Look at his smile."

"Yeah?" Hagrid looked at him, and showed the rifle appreciatively. Malcolm smiled back to be polite.

"You've reminded him that he needs to think of the future students as well as his former students. You've made a special place for yourself in his heart."

"You mean we're actually . . . "

"Friends. Yes, you are."

I better tell Madam Pomfrey I'll be visiting more often.

"Merry Christmas, Otto," Francis said as he handed his boss the long thin box.

Otto smiled and took the gift. Piama wished Gretchen a Merry Christmas and gave her a gift as well.

"I'm glad that's over with," Piama told Francis. "I hate giving gifts to people."

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do. I was smiling while I was giving that women a pair of oven mitts with cows printed on them. At least you're giving Otto that rifle."

"Yeah. He's always talking about getting one to put behind the counter. But don't worry, honey. Gretchen won't be mad. It's not allowed when it's a Christmas gift."

Francis stopped. "Those packages were wrapped in red and gold paper, right?

"Yeah."

"I thought we wrapped their presents in the green wrapping paper."

"Francis," Otto shouted As he came running out, "Firevorks? How did you know? I von't even wait for dark. I'm shooting one off right now. Gretchen?"

"I'll be right out, liebchen."

Gretchen came out smiling. "It vas such a surprise. Danke, Piama. Otto and I will love it." She followed Otto and the fireworks outside.

"She liked it," Piama said in a stunned voice.

"You never know." Francis replied as he gave he a hug.

Outside, Otto was cheering and Gretchen was shouting, "Vunderbar."

Later that night, after the fireworks had been exhausted, Gretchen would model her new lingerie from that secret muggle store."

"Piama," Francis said softly as he took her in his arms. "I bought a gift for you."

"We agreed only three gifts each. We wouldn't go overboard."

"I know, but in a way, this is also a gift for me."

Piama smiled knowingly. "Is it red and made of lace?"

Francis grinned. "Possibly." He handed her the gift box.

"Francis?" Piama asked looking into the open box. "I have to ask if you really meant to buy me this?"

Francis looked in the box. "That's the stationery I bought for my brother."

"Those three boxes were all the same size. Do you think Gretchen . . . "

"I hope so. If not, I'm going to have to do a lot of explaining to Malcolm.

Nob shifted to get in a more comfortable position on the lounge chair by the pool. His tan was coming along better than expected. "Dabney, thanks for letting me stay for the holidays."

"I'm happy to have the company. Johnny's nice but I hate talking down to people all the time." Dabney turned from his lounge chair to look at his guest. "I see you like the sun roof that Johnny added."

Nob adjusted his sunglasses. "It's great. You'd never know it was winter from in here. Dabney, if there's anything I can do to repay you, I'll do it."

"I hardly know what to ask for. My mom's won her appeal and they're interviewing her for a visa this weekend. She should be home soon."

"I'll work on the computer after we eat. I think I can get her onto the list of possible terrorists."

"Thanks, Nob."