Hello!!!! Finally posting something up after…who cares?! I'm posting again. For some weird reason, I got back into the mood for lots of MITM. I really miss the show, I do. AND I DIDN'T EVEN REALISE IT WAS THE FINAL SEASON!!! Was just busy with school and blahs and other whatnots. Thought I'd read up MITM here but it was sorely lacking in quantity (I realize the HP fics increase by the hundreds every other week). So, just because the MITM series is over doesn't mean it has to remain dead.

With that out of my system, enjoy this oneshot I came up with. And after reading, you can of course proceed to the section that enables you to review the story. Flame me (reasonably of course), praise me, write gibberish, give constructive feedback (preferred) for the fic, whatever. Just…give me a reason to check my email inbox ok?

The paragraphs in bold italics are Malcolm's thoughts. You know, when he turns to the screen and talks to us all.

Malcolm sighed as he placed his calculus assignment into his homework folder. He was flat out exhausted. Between mopping the hallways, helping out at the cafeteria, working at a bookstore, attending classes and finishing assignments, he rarely has any more time to himself. Stuffing his pencil case into his bag pack, Malcolm was just about to clear up when he remembered Professor Sullivan's essay, due on the next day.

Just when I thought I could sleep early today. But hey, Mom wanted me to suffer. Can't disappoint HER. Every time I call her, not that I want to but…you know her, she will immediately demand a progress report on everything. From my grades to my financial status to my friends and even to the cleanliness of my laundry. Or lack thereof. I think if it wasn't for Jamie and the lack of cash, she'd be living with me. In the dorm. But I really shouldn't be thinking about this right now. Not if I want to sleep peacefully tonight. Anyway, This Professor Sullivan, he is the coolest teacher ever. He gives out work like clouds give rain but will allow us to choose what to hand in, as long as we meet a quota. That's only for his own assessment though. The rest can be used for extra credit. And I'll need all the credit I can get to survive Mom.

Malcolm stared wistfully at his clock on the table. 12:39 am. Praying that he had not left any notes he might need in his broom closet/locker, he reached for his laptop that was he was charging in the corner. His laptop. Malcolm smiled. One of the first things he needed but realized he did not have when he first started college was a laptop. He had used his hard earned savings for the brand new HewlettPackard beauty he now owns (Lois: A SECOND HAND ONE WOULD HVE BEEN JUST FINE!! AND WHY CAN'T YOU JUST WRITE OUT YOUR ESSAYS?!), supplemented by some cash from Francis who insisted that the money was a belated congratulatory gift for emerging as Valedictorian of his cohort. At first Malcolm had resisted since Piama was pregnant (Lois: UNEMPLOYED AND HAVING A BABY!!! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!!! ) and Francis could use the money for whatever babies needed.

Francis still hasn't told Mom he has a perfectly stable job. Heard he got a promotion. He shouldn't have given me the money. But hey, since he insisted…

Malcolm checked through his documents for any notes he had saved that could help with his essay. Surprisingly, it seemed he had started on the essay around two days ago. He even seemed to have finished half of it. For the first time that night, Malcolm smiled.

Maybe I'll get to sleep early after all.

It was six o'clock when Malcolm's alarm went off.

"Shut that thing off Malcolm. And get up," grumbled Freddy.

Freddy Jackson is my roommate and partner in crime in Harvard. He's the kind of guy who laughs at people then apologizes. He has a brain and uses it well. His father is a lawyer so he doesn't really have to worry about cash though he still works at this really classy café in town on weekends for extra spending money. He says hi to me in the hallways, even when I'm mopping the floor, and is never afraid to ask me for help with his homework, unlike those other snobs who couldn't bear the idea of the assistant school janitor giving them tuition. Hah. Safe to say I have at least one friend in Harvard.

"Get up Malcolm, someone has to unlock the lecture halls before the lectures begin," groaned Freddy, "Or just shut that thing off."

"I'm up," muttered Malcolm, slamming his alarm clock into blissful silence.

And he's not really a morning person.

Malcolm trudged from his bed, grabbed a towel and some clothes as well as the keys to the showers. Without another word, he left his dorm, leaving Freddy to sleep.

Walking back towards his dorm after a refreshingly freezing shower, Malcolm shivered his way back to his dorm, passing by a couple of early birds on their way to the showers.

"Hi Malcolm, you done with Sully's essay?" greeted on of them.

"Ye-ye-ye-Yeah," replied Malcolm, "Le-le-la-Laura."

Damn, even with my clothes on, its still freezing in the mornings here. And check out how intelligent I was with Laura. Every time a hot chick says something to me, I become Einstein's complete opposite. Hah, at least I didn't call her Lorry like Freddy did.

Laura pulled her face into a pitying grimace, "That cold huh?"

Without waiting for a reply, Laura and her friend went on, while Malcolm just continued walking back to his dorm, cursing under his breath.

Just as he walked into his room, Freddy thought it was appropriate to greet him by means of a flying pillow. Malcolm had enough time to just duck (living with Reese was certainly good practice) grab his own pillow and fling it back at Freddy landing right on his face.


"You're so immature sometimes," Freddy shouted from under his pillow.

Malcolm rolled his eyes and left the room with his bag. Then he stopped, turned back, opened the door, slammed it shut as hard as he could and ran off. Freddy barely had time to register what happened when another guy from the same floor shouted,




No one heard Malcolm laughing his way to the lecture halls. For him, the day was just beginning.

That's it folks. Please remember to review. I have decided to continue writing a series of drabbles and one shots, showing bits and pieces of his life. Depends on the response to this fic though.