Cameron rose at the crack of dawn. Dennis awoke with him. They snogged for a little while before the dark-skinned young man said he needed to get ready. Dennis watched his naked boyfriend trot around the room, and then disappear through the door and into the hallway. The magical young man lay in the bed and stared at the ceiling. Although they did not actually fall asleep until late, he still felt refreshed. Over the course of the past two days Dennis started to grow antsy about finding out what Thomas left in his private room.
The kiss on his lips startled him awake. The lights flashed in the room. Cameron hovered over him grinning.
"You are so cute when you're asleep," the handsome face said.
"Look at you," Dennis said and yawned. "All dressed up like a plumber's apprentice. Kind of sexy."
"You've gone mental, Denny, if you think this is sexy."
"Gonna show a little butt crack to everyone?"
Cameron started chuckling and said: "I think I have to by law."
Dennis chortled at the response.
"I should be back between five and six. I already talked to Ann yesterday, and she and Mays and Henrietta are going to meet us at The Lion's Rose at seven-thirty for supper. After that we're going to The Tadger for some pool and darts and pints. Sound good?"
"At least one of us has a plan," Dennis agreed.
"Do you know how much I'd rather stay here next to you in bed?" Cameron quietly said while running his hand through Dennis' strawberry-blonde hair that needed a serious trim.
"'Bout as much as I want you to stay. Does this mean I get to throw a fit and try to beg you off from work today?"
"No, that's my routine. Get your own, wanker!"
Dennis wrapped his arms around the neck of the young man who captured his heart. He pulled him in. Their lips met. It became rather passionate in only a few seconds. Cameron began to push against the bed after two minutes. Dennis did not release him for half a minute after that, but eventually relented. His arms flopped onto the bed.
"Yeah, ah… better stick to whinging and complaining 'cause that was a very good argument just then," Cameron said in a throaty voice.
Through his smile Dennis said: "You have good day. Learn a lot. Do good work. Be safe, and we can take a shower together when you get home."
"Your plan is much, much better than mine!"
They chortled together. Then Cameron stood, dressed in his slightly tatty jeans and dark tee-shirt bearing even darker stains in places. He backed up a step while glancing down at the wizard. His booted feet thumped on the floor.
"God, I'm going to be hard all day thinking 'bout how you look right now. Mmm, you are something, Dennis Creevey!"
Dennis blushed with happiness.
"Oh, god. Too much. Too much!"
His boyfriend whirled on one foot, and stomped away from the bed and out the bedroom. Dennis heard the footfalls thunder down the stairs, then the light jangling of Cameron's toolbelt before the front door opened and closed. The grin on his face grew larger, although he totally understood how Cameron felt. At least, he thought, time enough existed for him to calm down before he headed out for the morning.
Not more than an hour after Cameron departed, Dennis locked the front door of the flat. He ducked around behind the tenement building so he could magic his way to his first destination. After exchanging some galleons for muggle money at the apparating station, Dennis got breakfast and then decided to do some research on Wollacott Hall. It lay roughly two miles east from Cameron's flat, and buses ran regularly to the park during the day. However, he planed to depart form the archives where he would spend some time researching the manor house.
It worked out well that the Nottinghamshire Archives only remained open for half a day. At eleven o'clock, Dennis made his way to the bus stop on Castle Boulevard. From there he needed to change buses twice before he arrived close enough to the Wollacott Hall shuttle service. Then another nearly ten minutes took him down Lime Tree Avenue to his destination. All the while he tried to ignore the fact his wand resided in his pocket and made him sit at a strange angle. He arrived at Wollacott Hall with several minutes to spare before the noon tour began.
"Are we all here?" said a thin, tall middle-aged woman with blue-gray hair. She dressed in a sever-looking dark skirt suite with a cornflower blue blouse under the jacket. Her low-rise pumps clacked as he she walked across the flagstones before the building. "As you could see when you arrived, Wollacott is designed using a prodigy style with some traditional English Gothic features."
Dennis politely listened to a virtual retelling of everything he learned in the archives. He memorized the actual floor plan and compared it to the map Thomas instructed him to draft. Thomas appeared to retain a very good memory after two-hundred and forty years. However, the ghost of the man could not account for the modifications made after his death. When they entered through the front entrance, Dennis began to worry the additions made in the nineteenth century possibly exposed Thomas' private room. However, he learned the first floor remained mostly intact, as well as the second floor. The curator noted the manor house retained much of its structural style first established in the mid-fifteen hundreds.
"The seventh, eighth, nineth, and tenth Earls of Nottingham occupied the hall before the title became incorporated with the Earldom of Winchilsea. Since that time, the manor house got donated to the City of Nottingham and became the center for the Natural History Museum because of the surrounding grounds and gardens," the guide explained.
"Scuse me, miss, but I thought the current earl was the twelfth in line?" A man asked while raising his hand.
"Excellent question, but it really gets calculated from when you begin counting the seated earls. We generally count from the fifth creation since the house got founded under that earl."
"Oh, right," the man accepted the answer.
"Now, from these short flight of steps we will first visit the Salon."
Dennis hung at the back of the group during the majority of the tour. From the Salon, the group moved to the Study, and then to the Great Hall. The guide explained many of the features and items found distributed throughout. Dennis got to see some of the small paintings of Thomas' grandfather, father, and brother. Not one of the ninth earl existed in the house. Once they trod through, the group went back to the Passage, and then into the West Dining Room. Dennis felt his nerves begin to tighten since he landed in the room he wanted to see most. He fought the urge to pull out the map he drew. Instead, he listened politely as the curator talked about the uses of the room and some of the famous gatherings held there. Little by little Dennis edged closer and closer to the wall most on his mind.
The wizard hung back in the north corner of the West Dining Room. He stood beside a window and the wall. Dennis slipped his wand out of his pocket and concealed it in his palm and behind his forearm. The guide pointed out a few more features of the room and then announced the group would traverse to the Armoury. Despite wanting to see the Armoury, he straggled behind as the group moved forward. Dennis walked closer to the wall.
"Subintroeo," he whispered.
The wall seemed to waver for half a second. Dennis watched the group to make sure no one saw him as he stepped through the wall into a totally lightless room.
"Duresco," the young wizard mumbled. He could literally hear the wall harden. "Lumos!"
The end of his wand began to glow and spread an even light throughout the room. Dennis first noticed the dust hanging in the air that he disturbed while entering the room. He turned in a circle and began to take in what he saw. Firstly, the heptagonally-shaped room got lined with shelves, except for one wall where a lectern stood. Atop it a book lay open. Above that hung a picture of a woman. Dennis walked up to it, making sure not to drag his feet, to get a better look. The well-featured woman could be none other than Thomas' mother. A thrill ran through Dennis' body as he realized he stood in the very spot where Lord North, the Earl of Nottingham, practiced his wizardry. It awed him in to muted silence.
The dust began tickle his nose. Dennis fear he might sneeze and covered his face with the crook of his arm. His brain reached back in time to remember some of the basic housecleaning spells Professor McGonagall taught the Gryffindors when they let the common room get so manky the house elves complained.
"Evanesco dust!" He said and moved his wand around the room.
A slight hissing sound reached his ears as the dust on the floors, objects, and shelves created small clouds before turning in on themselves and vanishing. Dennis carefully lowered his arm. Since he often used it in the home of his parents, he knew what to expect. He glanced down at the book. A clearly very old tome, even in the lifetime of Thomas, rested there. Dennis peered at the open pages. Long passages of Latin and what appeared to be ancient Briton got written neat columns. Dennis tried to decipher a few words. He stopped. Strange and unusual tingling began to build in his fingers. He looked down at his hands.
"Barmy Barnaby, these are spells. Old spells," he quietly said.
Instead he began to look around at the contents of the room. Each shelf contained either books and scrolls or magical implements. Dennis spied and went the spherical brass astrolabe that looked as if someone polished it the day before. It gleamed from the light of his wand. The wizard looked down small plaque on the base and read it aloud.
"Touch thy wand to the pedestal. Speak thou distinctly the constellation of thy interest and thy longitude."
He stood back. Dennis did not know his current longitude nor how to calculate it. After he thought about for half a second, he decided to an experiment. The tip of his wand got pressed to the pedestal holding aloft the sphere.
"Ursa majoris. Here," he clearly stated.
Following two seconds of inactivity, the globe inside the web-like filigree of lines and pointer began to spin. It slowed and stopped. The strands of brass also slid about, and the indicator bars shifted around. A prominent finger pointed at a faint tracing of islands of the United Kingdom. Dennis examined as much of the sphere as he could without disturbing it. He recognized the ancient constellation symbols on the bands. That the device still worked impressed Dennis to no end.
"That is excellent magic," the young wizard said in awe. He loved charms that helped people, and he fully appreciated the amount of labor and skill it took to create the device. "I think I need to get a copy of de Wit's Planisphær Cœleste."
Dennis turned again. Propped against the lectern, he saw a stick of wood perhaps forty centimeters long standing upright. As he got closer, it became apparent a spot two-thirds of the way down, or up depending on one's perspective, looks shiny and smooth. He reached out with a trembling hand and took hold of it. A faint, very weak, thrum of magic trickled into his hand. It did not take much to divine the item.
"He used a small stave. How… eighteenth century of him," Dennis half-giggled.
The assortment of items began to overwhelm Dennis as he realized the living version of Thomas North last occupied the room and used those various implements. He wished he could say he felt something of the man there, but the knowledge of where Thomas actually resided could not be pushed aside. Like a small child, Dennis wanted to examine and touch everything he could find. Caution, however, still his hand. He wisely remembered where he currently stood. One last glance told him it would take a more than a day to examine everything to his satisfaction
"Just clean the place out," Dennis told himself.
He placed Thomas' stave at the top of book on the lectern to keep it from rolling off. Then he took hold of his own wand. With one hand on the lectern, he visualized the Nottingham apparation station. Dennis made the translocation. Then he jumped to the Ministry station. From there he popped home and into his room. Once the wobbles eased, Dennis tried to move the lectern, and discovered it to be a single piece of carved stone.
"Makes sense," he muttered. He aimed his wand at it. "Wingardium leviosa."
The book stand gradually rose a few inches off the floor. Dennis directed it to a better position at the foot of his bed. Then he carefully let it settle onto the floor. He stared at it for a moment.
"What in blazes are you doing home?" His mother loudly asked from the hallway.
Her voice caught him so unaware the he actually hopped a little. The lights in his room and the hall flared once. He whipped around to face her.
"Sorry, Love. Didn't mean to give you a start, but what are you doing here?" She apologized and asked.
"Mum, come here," Dennis said and waved her into his room.
She walked over to him.
"What in heavens…"
"It's from Thomas' private room at his old manor house, Wollacott Hall! That's his books of spells, and that's his wand!" He said to her with tremendous excitement.
"Dennis Albert Creevey! Are you stealing public treasures?" The woman all but shrieked at her son.
"Mum, no! Thomas gave this to me. He told me how to get into his private room and said I could have it all!"
"What is name of god is going on up here?" His father blared as he came up the stairs. "First there's that thumping noise. Then the telly goes all fritzy, and know you've got your mum yelling…"
"He's gone thieving, Duncan!" Jill Creevey barked at her husband and pointed at the new object in Dennis' room.
"I have not!" Dennis yelled at her.
"Denny… what the hell are you doing home? I thought you'd gone Nottingham for the weekend?" His father asked after switching gears.
"I did, and I'm going back to get more," he gruffly said to his father while casting a stern look at his mother who shot him one right back.
"You're, ah, not really stealing anything, are you?"
Dennis spent three minutes giving his parents the short version of what Thomas and he discussed. He pulled the map he drew from his pocket, and showed them while explaining Thomas told him what to draw. When he tried to tell them no one entered that room since Thomas died, his mother began tutting and threw more disbelieving looks at him.
"No, I'm not accepting that," he said to her.
Dennis stuffed his wand into his front pant pocket, walked up to his parents, and grabbed each by a hand. Without asking or even fully thinking it through, he apparated to the Ministry with his parents in tow. Then he translocated all three of them to Nottingham, and finally to Hogwarts. Duncan and Jill Creevey stumbled and fell before the front gates of the famed school ten seconds after leaving their home. The two heaved and wretched from apparition sickness. His father actually threw up a little. Their son impatiently waited while tapping his foot on the cobblestone road. It took a minute before his parents got their bearings.
"Good lord. Dennis!" His father yelled at him while swaying on his feet and held out his hand to his wife. "You ever do that again, I will find a way to tan your hide! That was rude, unexpected… Hogwarts?"
The last time parents visited the school, they came to retrieve Colin's body. Duncan gaped at the tall turrets of the building. Dennis held out his hand and helped his mother to her feet as she fumbled with Duncan's now limp hand. She looked equally as furious with her son.
"No, you don't get to be mad. You're the one calling me a thief without even listening to what I was saying," he grumbled at his mother. "Come on. Follow me!"
Without waiting to see if they would comply, Dennis went to the front gate and presented his wand. The gate did not budge. Then he remembered.
"Oh, yeah. These are my parents: Duncan Creevey and Jill Creevey. Their muggles," he told the gate.
Seconds later it rattled open. Dennis continued to march up the entrance road. Ten seconds later he heard the gate shut. Although still quite annoyed with his mother's accusations, he paused and turned his head. His father and mother trailed a few feet behind him. Their faces kept an eye on the enormous stone castle. Dennis resumed the trek.
Three-quarters of the way to the school, Dennis saw a familiar person wheeling an enormous load of dirt along the road. He and parents came up next to the towering man.
"Well, Dennis Creevey! What'cha doing here?" Rubeus Hagrid asked in his booming voice.
"Came to see Thomas North," Dennis told the friendly half-giant.
"Who you got witch'ya?"
"Oh, right. Hagrid, me mum and dad: Jill and Duncan Creevey," Dennis made the first introduction while Hagrid made a half turn and faced them. He stuck out a hand with a palm nearly as large as a trash bin lid. "Mum, Dad, this is Professor Rubeus Hagrid. He teaches Care of Magical Creatures."
Duncan Creevey's hand disappeared into the grip of the Hagrid who said: "Pleasure to meet you again. We met before, but… you had other worries."
"Hello," father said in an amazed. "You're the largest person I've ever seen."
"Me? Hardly. You should meet my brother, Grawp. Now there's a proper giant… even if he is runt," Hagrid stated without any seeming sense his presence overwhelmed the two muggles. "I've got to say, you've got yerself quite a boy here. All the talk right now is 'bout how he figured out Silent Thom's killing. Professor Flitwick has been talking him up a treat."
"Ah, thank you," Jill Creevey muttered.
"Wasn't an easy task from what I've heard. Think you'll get around to telling me the story yerself, Dennis?" The half-giant inquired.
"Sure. You can brew up a cauldron of tea and we can make an afternoon out of it," Dennis agreed.
"That would be grand," Hagrid replied through a huge smile partially buried by his shrub-like beard. "Well, I've got to be off to the quidditch pitch. Got some fixes to make. Puddlemore United used our field for practicing while theirs is under repair, and now I knows why. Still Keeper of the Keys and Grounds even if I am instructor. Real pleasure seeing you folks again."
"Yes, likewise," Dennis' mother managed to say in more or less polite fashion.
They watched as Hagrid moved a wheelbarrow the size of a dump truck bucket heaped with dark, rich soil that smelled vaguely like a manure if one feed a herd of cattle chili peppers. When Hagrid walked far enough away so he resembled a regular-sized person, his parents slowly glanced at him.
"He's a half-giant. I've told you about him before. Makes a wicked cup of tea that'll keep you awake for two days when you need to," Dennis said to them as if saying grass grew on the ground. "Alright, this way."
A few small clouds scudded through a sky of brilliant blue. The first day of August arrived warm with a touch of humidity. The upward climb left Dennis parents sweating, and he felt a bit damp as well. When they reached the guard wall of the castle, Dennis led them around it instead of into the school proper. He saw his parents look confused. They knew ghosts inhabited the castle. However, they seemed to forget Thomas never ventured into Hogwarts due to his centuries' long feud with The Bloody Baron. Dennis led the two to the promontory.
"Dennis?" A female voice said from no apparent source.
"One moment, Lucia," Dennis requested. He turned to his parents. "Here. Come stand next to me. Then sort of face the castle, but move your eyes to the side toward the water. It's the only way you can see them on a sunny day."
Dennis demonstrated what they needed to do. He persisted in asking them to position themselves until he saw the startled expressions on their faces. No one needed to tell him they could see the ghosts.
"Mum and Dad, I'd like to introduce you to Thomas Lester Jonathan, Lord North and ninth Earl of Nottingham, and his daughter, Missus Lucia Hughes. Both, um, late of Nottingham," he began the introductions.
His father bowed a little while his mother did a small curtsy. Then they spent half a minutes aligning themselves so they could see the ghosts again.
"Lord North, Missus Hughes, this is my mother and father: Jill and Duncan Creevey," he completed the ritual.
"A pleasure, sir and madame," Thomas said and made a bow to them.
"Yes, indeed, it is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Dennis has become quite dear to us," Lucia told them.
"And, please, you need not refer to me as Lord North. Call me Thomas. It is a right earned by your son. Few have done as much for me and my daughter as he," the spectral noble insisted.
"Thank you," Jill said.
"Uh, yes, thanks," Duncan muttered.
"Found your room, Thomas," Dennis obliquely got straight to the point. "Hadn't been discovered or touched in all these years. Good spells. Oh, and your book of spells…"
"Go cautiously with that tome, Dennis. I did not begin to study it myself until halfway through my third decade," Thomas firmly stated.
"Sort of already figured that out. It'll take me a while to figure out."
"And do so with ample deliberation and patience."
"Dennis, to what do we owe the honor of meeting your parents? I do so wish I could receive them properly," Lucia inquired with a small self-complaint.
"What do you want me to do with your stuff in that room, Thomas?" Dennis asked first before his parents could speak.
"As I told you already: it is yours. I formally bequeathed the contents to you, my friend, as witnessed by Lucia. After all, what remains in that room belongs in the hands of a wizard. I can think of no better hands than yours," Thomas asserted and tilted his nearly invisible head in Dennis' direction.
"Thank you, Lord North," Dennis said and bowed.
"Desist with such flattery, Dennis," the nobleman bade him with a chuckle.
"Excuse me, Lord… Thomas, but shouldn't those things go to a museum?" Dennis' father inquired.
"I was thinking the same thing," his mother intoned.
"Ah, I see," Thomas said in a knowing manner. "And what museum would house the objects from my meditatio locus? Many of those items are highly magical and require a trained witch or wizard to handle with appropriate care."
"Sir, Dennis is just a lad," Jill Creevey said with obvious concern.
"You are as commendable a mother as one could wish, but I would hazard a guess you fail to recognize your son is a fully trained wizard. The education offered here is superior in many respects. Moreover, Dennis sought out further education and guidance on his own initiative. That, to me, speaks of one who takes seriously the craft we both enjoy. I can think of no better hands than Dennis' in which to entrust the tools of my earthbound practice in magic."
In true Thomas North fashion, he spoke with utter authority that left Dennis believing every word without question. He watched as his parents sorted through the statements to gain a full understanding. Sometimes it took effort to glean a complete comprehension.
"Missus Creevey," Thomas began again. "Beside me stands but one of my daughters, whom I love and cherish greater than life itself."
"He is the finest of father's," Lucia complimented her father.
"As I said to Dennis not but two days previously, I would have been most fortunate to be graced with a son as honorable and noble as he. In this I make him the inheritor of what small estate I can pass on. It is a pittance of the thanks which I owe him."
"You don't owe me anything, Thomas. You were nice to me during some bad days. I was just returning the favor," Dennis replied and again tried to brush aside the estimation.
"Duncan and Jill Creevey, I am indebted to your parenting of such a fine person. While he endured much during his final years here, Dennis did not bow or become corrupted by ill treatment. I can only assume the fortitude and strength of character he displays is the product of the home and life you bestowed upon him," said Thomas, and again he made a small bow to them.
Dennis got the rare treat of watching his parents' faces go flush.
"In the words of the great bard: I do not damn thee with faint praise."
"You're too kind, L… Thomas," Dennis' mother quietly stated. "He thinks very highly of you as well. He'd get quite upset thinking about what happened to you. Helping you became something of a mission for him."
"Dennis dedicated himself to it," his father added.
"And can you now see why I chose to make the contents of my private study a gift to him? Can you think of anyone more worthwhile?"
"I'm going to puke," Dennis half-moaned.
"Have you taken ill, Dennis?" Lucia queried with real concern.
"No, it's all this treacle being poured all over me. I didn't do anything heroic or noble or grand or whatever else you want to call it. I just helped a friend who really needed help. I never suffered half of what Thomas did, and I couldn't just sit by and do nothing. So… stop all this stuff you're saying 'bout me," Dennis half-railed at the small audience. "I brought my mum and dad here to meet you so you could tell them I wasn't stealing your stuff."
"Aye, we did think he was being light-fingered when he shouldn't," Jill Creevey confessed.
"An understandable misapprehension, and I am grateful you made it."
The two mortal parents goggled at the ghost.
"It afforded me and my daughter the opportunity to meet you and extend our thanks to you," the deceased earl again said. "And, if I may, extend my sincere condolences for the loss of his brother. It is only of late that I begin to see shroud of sorrow begin to lift from his eyes. Dennis truly loved Colin, and in this I can only think he reflected the same affection and love you held for your son."
"Thank you, sir, for your kind words," Dennis' mother softly rejoined.
"Colin was a good boy. A bit full of himself at times, but a good one. Thank you, Thomas," Mr. Creevey also quietly intoned.
"Although this may bring scant comfort, and this has been said to Dennis over the years, but Colin went to his rest without fear or doubt of how he lived his life. He lingers not as a specter among those of us here. Only a satisfied soul may pass that freely to the beyond. In this I believe he has you to thank."
To a person tears rolled down the faces of the Creevey's, yet Dennis also smiled. He could scarcely think of a way to explain to Thomas the gift he just gave his parents. Hearing it from a man who lived and died as Thomas bore greater weight than the words of young son who sometimes lashed out in his grief. Although not seismic by any standard, Dennis did see the subtle impact Thomas' statements imparted on his parents. The looked solemnly at Lord North and bobbed their heads a few times.
The quintet standing on the cliff overlooking the loch did not say much more to one another. The adults, some far older than others, again express the gratitude at meeting one another. Dennis enjoyed watching his parents gradually relax as they spoke to the late lord and his daughter. Ghosts did not factor into their daily lives. Before they left, Dennis got to point out the giant squid that saved him when he first arrived Hogwarts. Then, Thomas extracted a promise from Dennis to return with a catalog of items retrieved from the secret room at Wollacott Hall. The benefit of unexpectedly visiting Thomas and Lucia exceeded any expectation he held.
Dennis took time returning his parents to St. Alban's in order to minimize the apparation queasiness. When they arrived in the living room of the house, his parents dove for their recliners. They sat and drank in air.
"Honestly, Dennis, what a horrid way to travel," his mother chided him.
"Still safer than flying, Mum, and flying is safer than driving," he informed her of the supposed fact people touted at Hogwarts during his school years.
"Like traveling at the speed of light," his father rumbled.
"Not quite," Dennis quietly refuted.
"Well, that Lord North seems fond of you. You've done a good thing there, Dennis. Truly, you have," his mother complimented him.
"Aye, son. You have. It was nice meeting him after hearing all him about these past two months. Funny how they disappear in the sun," his father added.
"I think a lot of has to do with not a lot of them not being there."
His parents smirked at him.
"So, now that you know I not nicking his stuff, I'm going to get more," Dennis told them. "I'll still be staying at Cam's tonight, so you can look at everything, but I wouldn't suggest you touch anything."
"Heavens, no! We'll just leave it right where it sets 'til you get back," Jill agreed with her son. "Is it safe to have here?"
"Sat for two-hundred and thirty-nine years at Wollacott without anything happening, so I think it's safe."
His parents glanced at him and then at each other.
"Oh, come off it. You know I wouldn't bring anything really dangerous here," he reacted to their reactions.
"What about your coveralls?" His mother quipped. "They tried to bite me more than once."
"Mum, that's like saying you're being savaged by a blancmange!"
His father started laughing.
"You're doing the laundry from now on, Duncan," she grumbled.
His father stopped laughing
"All right, you're going to hear stuff popping into my room. Only brought the pedestal and spellbook back myself so I could get a look at the space. If there's time, I stop back in 'fore Cam gets back," Dennis spoke his plans aloud. "And if you think something is acting… hinky in my room, use the chalkboard. I'll check it before Cam and me head for dinner and pool, and then when I get back."
"Your English is atrocious," his mother griped.
Her comment told Dennis she did not worry. With that, he raised a hand in farewell, and then twisted out of sight through the magical nether. After several jumps, Dennis arrived back in the small room at Wollacott Hall.
"Luminos," he said and looked around. "Light is problem."
Seconds later he emerged in his boyfriend's flat. He went digging through the recyclable trash until he found a glass jar with a lid. After washing it out and using paper towels to dry it, Dennis returned to the Thomas' study. During his first year at Hogwarts, Hermione learned how to make faery lights in a jar. It became the rage throughout the school until the whole of Hogwarts glowed like an angler fish's lure on dark nights. Thus, Dennis dredged up the old memories and created a powerful lamp.
The young man and very able wizard stood in the middle of the heptagonal room. It seemed wisest to begin with the most durable objects. He made three small stacks from the books and translocated the lot to his room just in front of the lectern. He did the same with the scrolls Dennis searched for apparatus that did not appear reactive to magic, such as scales and vials. Those got shipped to St. Alban's. Within an hour he completely stripped the study and sent the items to his bedroom. Dennis hoped he spaced everything correctly to keep from damaging any of the priceless, at least to him, artifacts from the life of Lord Thomas North. Then he made one last search of the study. The wizard overlooked nothing. Finally, he sent the picture of Thomas' mother to his room to the one space he left intentionally clear. He would ask Thomas at a later time what he would like done with the portrait. Dennis let out a small sigh.
"No one will ever know a wizard practiced here," he told the empty space, and it left him feeling a little sad since so much of Thomas' life did not get recorded. It gave him an idea for a future time.
Dennis disapparated to Cameron's flat. He looked around for a moment. Then he apparated back to Wollacott. Moments later, Dennis returned to the flat. In his hand he carried the tour literature and jar of faery lights. He dispelled the lights and returned the jar to the recyclable bin. Once he stashed his wand at the bottom of his backpack, he flopped onto Cameron's sofa and began reading the so-called official history of Wollacott Hall and grounds. The small booklet proved informative from a muggle perspective, but it seemed woefully lacking from his. Ideas started to percolate in his head regarding the last recently discovered possessions of the late ninth Earl of Nottingham.
For a second time that day a pair of lips startled him awake. For a second time that day, the lights flickered in the flat. Dennis came around and looked into the smiling face of Cameron. He started smiling in return. Cameron kissed him again.
"Boring day?" His boyfriend asked.
"Not really. Did some more research at the archives before going to Wollacott. It's actually a pretty interesting place," Dennis said as the sleep fog lifted from his brain.
"Jeannie's said this to me ten times, and I agree with her: we need to get you into a uni. You're too smart not to go," Cameron said in a firm tone.
"Just 'cause I enjoyed the investigation…"
"Okay, so maybe Wollacott Hall is kind of related to the killing of the earl, but… you went back just to see it. And you probably read up on it first," his boyfriend interjected and pinned him with a look. "You did, didn't you?"
Dennis' cheeks turned a little red as he looked away.
"Wanker," Cameron laughed at him.
"Tosser," Dennis shot back.
The chuckled at each other.
"Why are you afraid of being smart, Denny?" The dark, sultry young man asked.
"Not afraid. I just… see, at my school it was more about what you could do with what you learned than actually just knowing it," Dennis tried to explain. "Once I came out, lot of them thought all I was just going to focus on that: being gay. I had to go to gh… other teachers to really learn and show what I could do. Did okay in my final exams. So, for me it's not just what I know, but what I can do with it. Does that make any sense?"
Cameron gradually nudged Dennis aside with his hip until Dennis lay on his side and gave Cameron room to sit.
"Private schools sound like hell, and I think I get what you're saying. But if you got to a university, what you know will be important. It's like what I did today I couldn't've done without everything I learned in the past three years, so I get there's a difference between learning and doing."
"So, it went well today?" Dennis asked, and privately felt glad he got to shift the topic.
"Lot of work. Just attaching one pipe after another, checking for leaks, making sure the run angles were correct, anchoring pipes to wall studs so they don't knock," Cameron told him. "Did you know loose hot water pipes are the main reason people believe in spooks and ghosts?"
"Really?" The wizard asked and raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah, when hot water first starts to run through a pipe, 'specially metal ones, it can vibrate from the heat and pressure. It knocks against the wall from the inside if it's not anchored properly. Then it does the same thing when it starts to cool. And, this is what really gets people going, if there's air in the line, it sounds like whispering or a growling sound. Freaks people out, and they think it's ghosts," Dennis boyfriend said with absolute conviction.
"And bad plumbing is why people see ghosts?"
"I don't know about that, but people will see what they want to see and believe what they want to believe."
"I guess," Dennis less than enthusiastically agreed.
"Hold on. Are you saying you believe in ghosts, Denny?" Cameron asked.
Dennis nodded.
"Seen 'em have you?"
"Yeah. There were a bunch at my school," Dennis freely stated. "Some were from a long time ago. You could tell from their clothing. A few were kind of new. There were young ones, old ones… sort of like the people you'd find in any school."
"Seriously? You saw these?" His boyfriend inquired with naked incredulity.
"All the time."
"Wasn't just some blokes having one over on you?"
"Nope. These were real, honest-to-goodness ghosts. Didn't hurt anyone… well, 'cept for this one really old ghost who liked to throw stuff around," the wizard hiding in plain sight said as he thought of his friend, Peeves the Poltergeist. "Even he wasn't as bad as you'd think."
Cameron gaped at him.
"I'm not making this up, Cam. Didn't take long to just get used to them. After a couple of years, it became normal. Truth is, I sort of liked having 'em around. Sometimes I'd go sit somewhere by myself to think or read, and sometimes one of the ghosts would happen by and kind of hang out for a while. Not great at conversations, but… it's like they didn't want people to feel alone."
"Good god, I've got a nutter for a boyfriend," Cameron snickered at him.
"Well, tell you what: I'll try to get permission to take you to the school, and then show you. After you wet on yourself, I want to see if you still think I'm a nutter," Dennis challenged.
"Eh, doesn't matter. I'd still take you over most blokes even if you were stark raving. You're too cute and nice to pass up."
"Yeah, you got that going for you, too," he replied to smile face. "Want to hear something kind of weird?"
"After all this ghost stuff, why not?" Cameron said and did sound entirely mocking.
"After Colin died, I looked for him. Thought he might be one, but I never saw him. Someone told me if he didn't turn up as a ghost, then it meant Colin was satisfied with his life… didn't have anything left over to do. It's weird because hearing that sort of made me feel a little better."
"It's not weird, Denny. Maybe not weirder than going to a school with ghosts in it, but I get what you're saying. You loved him and he was your best mate, so course you'd got looking for him," his boyfriend quietly said. "I also think it means your head is bolted on tight 'cause of how it made you feel. You were accepting he died."
"Yeah, that makes sense. Thanks," Dennis said and meant it.
"Now, what about that promise you made to me this morning?"
"Which one?"
"The one about getting cleaned up 'fore we head out?" Cameron reminded him.
"Oh, that one," Dennis replied and sat up. He climbed over Cameron, and then grabbed his hand. He pulled the young man to his feet. "I can more than live up to that one!"