Dean Thomas
One year later:
"They have reports of all wizards and witches in the Ministry of Magic," said the witch as she and Dean walked across a long and crowded corridor. At least she was walking; Dean was jogging behind her, trying not to crash into anyone.
It had been a year since the Battle of Hogwarts, and he was still waking up to nightmares of running from death eaters and being captured by snatchers and waking up in the dim gloom of the dungeon at Malfoy Manor. Just that day he had woken up from a nightmare of Ted Tonks dying, and waking up he found no comfort in remembering that Ted, his daughter, and his son-in-law were all dead.
He had turned around and picked up the letter from Andromeda Tonks he had received a month earlier and shredded it into pieces. He regretted it immediately, but didn't have a quick way to fix it. After all, his wand had been destroyed in the Battle of Hogwarts, and he was too scared to visit Ollivander for a new wand: Ollivander, who had been in the dreaded dungeon with him. Ollivander, who had been unable to make a wand for him anyways.
He spent the rest of the morning attempting to tape the letter together. His mother had called him downstairs for breakfast but he didn't respond; she was used to it by now.
At noon he received a sort of a shock when a handsome looking owl that he didn't recognize tapped its beak against his window. Maybe the Seamus had gotten a new one? He let the owl in and looked at the letter taped to its leg: a letter from the Ministry.
And here he now was. Kingsley had come down to greet him personally, and said he would have helped Dean if he hadn't been swamped by so much work. Dean fancied he saw a flash Ron's brilliantly red hair, but he wasn't sure. He heard that Ron and Harry both worked at the Ministry now as Aurors. Sure suited them.
He and the witch turned around into an open doorway filled with reporters.
"Sorry about this," said the witch, "Dolores Umbridge – you know her? – she's being tried today. Crimes against Muggleborns."
Dean felt a spinning sensation in his stomach. Dolores Umbridge. Muggleborns. He bowed his head and prayed that the reporters didn't recognize him.
They walked through another open doorway. And another. Down a corridor. Into a locked room. Into another locked room. And then into another room that was filled with stacks and stacks of boxes with parchment and paper.
"Give me your wand," said the witch briskly.
Dean grimaced. "Don't have one, ma'am."
The witch sighed audibly and grabbed his hand. Then with a slashing motion she brought down her wand and sliced his hand open. Dean yelped.
"Bloody hell woman!"
She appeared not to notice him as he tried to staunch the trickle of blood with his shirt sleeve. "110th row, 15th aisle, 20th shelf, second to the left." She led him down down the long, long rows and aisles of boxes, reached wherever the "110th row, 15th aisle" was, and summoned a box from the 20th shelf.
"Couldn't've just said Accio?" mumbled Dean grumpily.
"Doesn't work in long range here," said the witch. The box was filled with parchment and paper from different eras. The witch sifted through them detachedly.
She sniffed at some of the more mysterious looking parchments. "Human skin," she said at one of them and put it down gingerly. She went through about 100 Lydyls before arriving at Lye. Dennis Lye. Written on regular parchment, and overall not very interesting.
Dean took the parchment from her carefully and read it.
Lye, Dennis †
Born: May 13th, 1954
Died: April 2nd, 1980 (killed by death eaters)
Mother: Stratsburg, Barbara (muggle) †
Father: Lye, Brad †
Spouse: Longe, Thelma (muggle)
Children: Thomas, Dean
And that was it.
His father had died in the First Wizarding War.
"Can I keep this?"
Had his father died defending him?
"No." The witch snatched the parchment out of his hand and replaced it into the box. And replaced the box on the 20th shelf. And his father was out of reach again.
Later that day Dean found himself at the Leaky Cauldron. Hannah Abbott was serving as bartender at the front, and let him through the gate to Diagon Alley.
He walked down the streets, now bustling with witches and wizards. He saw the Weasley Wizard Wheezes at the end of the block and the children who were excitedly running through the entrance. He thought he might go in and say hi to George later.
He walked by Flourish and Bott's, the Apothecary, by all the shops he still remembered clearly from his childhood, when he was so terribly excited to go to Hogwarts, and when he thought nothing could go wrong…
And he finally arrived at the place he was looking for. He opened the door and heard a bell tinkle from inside the shop. A familiar face surrounded by shockingly white hair appeared from behind a shelf.
"Dean Thomas, I've been wondering when you would come."
"Hi, yeah. I'd like to purchase a wand."