To Catch A Killer

by PringlesTheWriter

"Little Dennis Creevey, became an Auror." A story exploring a throwaway headcanon that went from a character exploration of a minor character to a full-fledged case!fic. It has drama, it has intrigue, it has some minor gore, and it will hopefully keep you guessing all the way through.

8. Weddings and Babies and Burglaries

Chapter 8: Weddings and Babies and Burglaries are a Few of His Favourite Things

May 2004

The next wedding Dennis attended was, hilariously, George and Angelina's – for all that George had protested that they were just mates all the way up to his baby sister's wedding, his proposal to Angelina had surprised absolutely no one. He'd waited until her hyperemesis gravidarum had abated enough that she wouldn't vomit on the ring, and, clad in his spectacularly shimmery Opaleye jacket and matching boots, had popped the question with the brightest, most sunshiny-yellow diamond he could find; breaking the news of the engagement, the pregnancy, and the wedding three months later to his mother in one fell swoop.

And yet, miraculously, Mrs. Weasley had managed to come through in fine form, the garden at the Burrow bursting with riotous tropical colour - the woman was a magician in more ways than one. Angelina, face aglow with bridal and mother-to-be bliss, made her way down the aisle as gracefully as her belly would allow, on her father's arm, clad in a simple white sundress; and George had silent tears streaming down his face as he watched her walk towards him. Lee seemed to realise what was going on faster than either Dennis or Ron did, as he took a step forward and handed George a handkerchief to wipe his eyes before Angelina made it all the way to his side, followed by her matron of honour and three bridesmaids. Katie, Alicia and Ginny took their places next to Ron, Lee and Dennis in that order; and Antonella Montgomery née Johnson stood alone, the space next to her reserved for George's Best Man in absentia, Fred.

Afterwards, when the two had been pronounced man and wife in a haze of silvery stars and he'd walked Ginny down the aisle to her waiting husband and infant son; Dennis caught Leslie in his arms, her hair in a complicated updo, eyes still shimmering with tears. "Getting soft on me, Les?" he teased softly, surprised as always to see her emotional side. "Nah, just gasping for a drink. Special occasion and all that – reckon we should go for the champers?" She laughed, lightly pushing at his chest, but her laughter faded into a delighted giggle as he caught her hands and twirled her around, landing a quick kiss on her lips. His heart felt light and full all at once – despite the discomfort of the damnable dress robes that George had not managed to dissuade his mother from mandating, he didn't want this night to end; and as they swayed together for most of the night between delicious dinner courses and glasses of bubbly, and watched the sky come alight with Weasley's Whiz-Bangs, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that someday or the other he was going to marry this girl.

X-XXX-X

September 2004

Life went on rather like it always had – never a dull moment in the Auror Office. Dennis found himself caught up in a few kidnappings and a murder or two after the Lestrange bust, though he preferred the challenge of hunting down Death Eaters instead. Investigative and surveillance work was always his favourite, even though it involved a whole lot more of reading boring, dusty files than a layperson could have ever imagined – and that, at least, was a task only Hermione could have enjoyed. But still – hunting Death Eaters felt like a way to keep the memory of Colin and his convictions alive, and it was enough purpose to keep him going in a way that tracking down other, more personally motivated criminals rarely engendered. Besides, the crimes – mostly murders - they usually investigated these days were brutal and unimaginative and just made him feel a sense of overwhelming ennui at the pettiness of it all.

And then, he got his wish for a bit more excitement, and a promotion to Auror Level One to boot, in rather spectacular fashion, when a case that had been baffling Muggle London landed on Williamson's desk, and, by virtue of his Muggle upbringing, he found himself drafted to the team, as the Auror liaison with the Commissioner of Police. He just knew it would make for a rather good story at the pub for the Hogwarts lot, especially Euan, who was a great fan of improbable heist Muggle movies.

X-XXX-X

November 2004

"Anything exciting happening at work mate, that you can talk about?" Euan asked him, as he handed Dennis a foaming pint of something or the other, slopping a little on the table in excitement when Leslie, already sipping on hers, told him they had something straight out of Ocean's Eleven for him. Orla smiled fondly at her fiancé, rolling her eyes good naturedly as she cleaned off the table with a wave of her wand. The Leaky was bustling, as it usually was on a Friday, and Hannah was swept off her feet doling out orders. Kevin and Eleanor crowded in closer as well, as did Eleanor's new girlfriend, Laura, who had been in their year at Hogwarts.

"You think we can tell them?" Dennis turned to his girlfriend, eyes twinkling with mischief. Euan's mouth was open, fairly radiating with eagerness.

"Ah, go on, it'll be in the Prophet tomorrow, anyway, trial's over with – remember?" Leslie replied, winking back.

"Right, so – don't know if your mum keeps you up to date on the Muggle news, but there was a series of burglaries across London over the last couple months, the thieves hit six stores, walked away with a cool million galleons worth of loot – the estimated value of the stuff, anyway. It came to the Aurors because CCTV (that's a type of unmanned muggle camera that takes moving pictures, Orla) saw nothing, no alarms went off, but there was a bunch of broken glass and metal bars and cut open safes and stuff, which actually seemed like a pretty good sign that it was Muggle, initially – a Wizard could just Vanish glass and metal and put it back, why the property damage, right? But there weren't any clues, and then something weird happened and so the Muggle coppers roped us in, apparently the Commissioner of Police is informed about the Wizarding World when they take office."

He stopped to take a drink, and Leslie continued.

"There weren't any witnesses, really, but the last store to be hit, they'd started moving out their merchandise in the evenings instead of leaving it in the safes and strongboxes on the premises. Well, the security team hired to move the goods were found unconscious in the armoured lorry, and when they came to, they remembered nothing. As in, the entire evening was a blank. Unfortunately, by the time we were assigned the case, it had been a few days, so there was no way to test if they'd been put under any spells or potions to knock them out; but they had been Obliviated, and we managed to partially reverse the spell on one of the blokes. Turned out that someone had misted him in the face with a clear potion, most probably Draught of Living Death."

"Doesn't that put you into a coma, essentially? I seem to remember that from Hogwarts." Euan asked, hanging on to every word.

"Umm. Not really. I mean, ingesting it would, but spritzing it in someone's face like that? That's a much lower dosage. Though you would probably need some Wiggenweld regardless." Laura, a Healer trainee, interjected; flushing to the roots of her chestnut hair when they all turned to her. "Sorry."

"No – don't apologise, that's exactly what we thought as well. Of course, it could have been a bad batch of Living Death, or maybe they gave them some Wiggenweld after, or it was a different sleeping potion? But anyway, it was enough for us to confirm magical involvement."

"So, we spent way too much time reviewing the CCTV footage, and we caught a glimmer on one frame – seemed like the ripple of a disillusionment charm. We figured out that these two wizards – later identified as Daniel Smith and Craig Jones, both half-bloods, your average thirty-something Wizards working dead-end jobs - were essentially casing the store for a few days under a disillusionment charm, and then breaking in while cloaked, the destruction was supposed to make it look like Muggles did it. If we hadn't caught the Obliviation, we might've never been called in, honestly. Anyway, we identified their next target –" "How?" interrupted Euan, curiously. "- anonymous tip, if you'd believe it!" Dennis laughed. "Some bloke who didn't want to be identified. Said he had knowledge they were going to hit up the Tiffany store in Mayfair."

"That seems rather suspicious, doesn't it?." Orla observed, quietly. Leslie turned to her.

"It is – but what can you do? They were also shockingly easy to capture, by the way, the average Auror-hopeful could probably have made that arrest. It's unsettling to say the least, because if two reasonably untalented Wizards can wreak that kind of havoc on Muggle society… though they got the book thrown at them, of course. Consecutive sentences for both the Muggle and Wizarding crimes. So that's two lots of breaking and entering times six, two lots of burglary times six, two lots of aggravated assault on the security crew, plus all the Muggle-baiting and Statute of Secrecy stuff. Forty years – that's one of the longest sentences we've seen for a crime that didn't involve a dead body, but, like I said, I think the Wizengamot wanted to make an example of the blokes. Just so others don't go about getting any ideas."

Later, when they were slipping into bed, Dennis turned to Leslie.

"You know, that's a fair point Orla made about the anonymous tip we got. Who do you think it was?"

"Talking shop in bed now, Den? This is what you get for dating a co-worker, I suppose. Was hoping for conversation of either the pillow or sweet-nothings variety, but if you insist…" she laughed, before growing a bit more serious. "It could've been just about anyone. We didn't recover even half the loot, though that isn't suspicious I suppose – they probably got rid of it as soon as they got it, and Rose mentioned that Williamson couldn't get them to reveal much, if anything, about their fence or any other partners they had. They didn't brew the sleeping potion, by the way, so there's no way of figuring out what was up with it. It's frustrating to not know, but Robards is getting a lot of pressure to close the investigation, and there's no conceivable way of figuring it out. It could just be a faulty batch of Living Death, you know, weak and aerosolised it probably would just wear off."

"Maybe," he said, the Potions talk going over his head as usual. "Though it could be good to know… at least whether they had any partners. I mean, they're not the brightest tools in the shed, so maybe they did?"

"Well," she said, sitting up. "The robbery itself would be like candy from a baby for a Wizard, you know? The likeliest theory, in my opinion anyway, is that they got double-crossed by the fence they were working with. Perhaps another half-blood, because you'd need someone who had connections in the Muggle world while still being able to get in touch with us. Rose and I spent all of yesterday poring over their known associates but we found nothing so far, though it's early days yet…"

X-XXX-X

June 2006

"Got the bottles?" Leslie asked, as they Apparated to the main gate. Her voice was muffled, coming as it was from behind an enormous bunch of peonies and roses. Her dress was a lovely flaxen colour, matching her hair, and one he didn't recognise – they'd have to go out for dinner sometime. It really was a pretty dress.

"Yes," he said belatedly, "two bottles of a highly-recommended elf-made wine, according to the shop girl at Bewitching Brews. Hope they like it, because I've never had the stuff before." He juggled the bottles in his hand as he leaned forward to ring the doorbell.

"Yes, well, you're a beer man, Den, we all knew that!" She made to continue, but was distracted by the door.

"It's the Creeveys!"

"Still Toddington, boss – cheers," said Leslie, grinning, making her way into the room. She ignored Ron's reply of "not your boss for very much longer, Toddington – trading in the bad hours and boring stakeouts for the chance to make a lot more money being my own boss, remember?" to turn to Hermione, whose belly was rounded significantly more than she'd remembered from the last time she'd seen her. "Congratulations, Hermione! These are for you – Den's got the wine ostensibly for your husband, but if I remember correctly he's much more of a Firewhisky chap, so it'll end up being for you. Luckily it'll keep!" She deposited the bouquet on a nearby table, before drawing the taller woman into a hug. Dennis was similarly greeting Ron with backslaps and hugs, pressing the bottles in his arms.

He'd been to the Den a few times, not as often as he had to Number 93 or Potter House of course, but often enough that he needed no further encouragement or directions to make his way to the living room, crowded with people. He stopped up short when he saw Neville, tall, broad, and tan, the scar on his cheek standing out in sharp relief; smile stretching from ear to ear on his round face as he spoke animatedly with both Harry and Terry, beer in hand. "Neville – you're back! Where all have you been? And are you back for good?" "Hey Dennis! Yeah, just got back a week ago, though I'm not staying long. Finished my mastery in Paris, specialising in medicinal plants in the Indian subcontinent – so the last two years have been split between both places. I'm actually going to go back to India next month, and I'll be between there and here as a condition of the dual-programme with St. Mungo's for the next year or two, after which I'll be back and should be all done with long term international visits!"

He spent a few minutes chatting with Neville, before excusing himself, helping himself to a beer and going over to where George stood, near an enchanted playpen keeping 22-month-old Fred and 26-month-old James out of mischief's way – a tall ask with those two toddlers who seemed to embody every possible stereotype and legacy their names had bestowed upon them. He wondered amusedly if either Ginny or Angelina would have more kids after being blessed with such adorable tiny terrors. Fleur, still the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen – he'd take pains to not mention that around Leslie, but she frankly agreed with him – floated over to them both, a vision of loveliness holding her cherubic youngest, Louis, by his chubby hand, and, as it often happened when he wasn't prepared for it, his breath caught as her dazzling silvery blonde hair and even more dazzling smile stole over him. He took a large gulp of the beer in his hand to alleviate the sudden shivers and found his eyes searching for his girlfriend in the crowd to steady him. When he tuned back into the conversation, she had deposited her son with his two cousins, and, flashing them with another large smile, set off in search of her husband. "Were you surprised when Ronnie dropped the announcement that he's going to quit chasing the bad guys and come work with me?" George asked, grinning. "Mum and Hermione are over the moon – they both have kittens every time he goes out on a mission." Dennis made to reply, but was cut off by a sudden clinking noise that could be heard dimly in a corner of the overcrowded living room, lost amongst the dull roar of several adults and some small children – the oldest being Teddy, Harry's blue-haired, hazel eyed, eight-year-old godson.

Then, abruptly, Ron's magnified voice, exclaiming "Oi, you lot! Shut it!" could be heard reverberating through the rafters, and everyone fell silent, turning to look at the host of the party.

"Thank you all for coming – Hermione and I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate the birth of our child than with you – our closest friends and family. As you all know – I recently resigned as an Auror to spare my wife more grey hair and work with my brother instead – seemed like great timing to get some babysitting practice in before my own baby gets here, though I rather think my child will be cuter than Georgie over there," he paused, waiting for the light laughter to fade. "But that doesn't mean that you lot from the Auror office are allowed to be strangers! Please do continue to drop in – especially once the baby's born, we could really use the help." He looked at Hermione, and the smile on his face was so bright it could've illuminated the room all by itself.

"So – food's on the table in the kitchen, and drinks are at the bar in the foyer, please do help yourselves! And for all of you in on the baby betting pool, the moment you've all been waiting for…"

Hermione raised her wand, and a large white cake floated from the kitchen to rest on a table that Ron conjured in front of them. They kissed, grasped the knife together, and brought it down as one, cutting out a slice to fall into the plate hovering in front. The cake spun around of its own volition to reveal a strawberry pink interior, and the white roses decorating the table turned blush pink at the edges. "It's a girl!"

X-XXX-X

February 2008

C'mon Creevey, you can do this; Dennis thought, approaching his target from behind, moving as stealthily as he could. He could feel his forehead getting a bit clammy; he hadn't been this nervous since the very early days of Auror training. Then again, the full import of the situation was hitting him anew, making his hands shake. It's not like he didn't think himself capable, of course he was capable. He'd been trained for this in a way, at least from the point of view of learning how to be deceptive and decisive and to know the best time to strike. He was just… nervous. It could happen to anyone, he supposed.

Dusk was falling rapidly. He thought longingly of his plans to come – He'd planned a weekend getaway for Leslie and himself, starting the next day, as a surprise. Portkeys and hotel rooms had been booked, and, for an extra romantic touch, he'd begged off from their usual lunch date when working the same shift, citing a lead in an open case, and gone home to set up a date night in for when they returned from work. He just needed to get through the next fifteen minutes and hopefully the rest of his night would be smooth sailing.

Right – target spotted. Let's do this. Dennis put his game face on, squared his shoulders, and went in, tapping her on the shoulder.

"Hey, Les – Harry just swung by to say he needs me to get him the Rhodes summary report and then I'm free to go. Want to come with – then we can head out together?"

They made their way to the Record Room, and he let Leslie go in ahead of him and take a seat at their usual table, congratulating himself on having disguised his inner turmoil from her – until she turned around and fixed him with a teasing, yet firm stare. "Out with it, Creevey, what's with the bobbing Adam's apple?"

"Well… do you know what's so special about the table you're sitting at right now?" continuing before she had a chance to reply with a witty rejoinder. "It's where we were sitting when I realised, I was falling so head over heels for you I didn't know my arse from my elbow by the time I finished tumbling. And it's where we were sitting when I accidentally asked you out for the first time, two days shy of four years ago. And it's where I'd like to be sitting when I ask you – a bit more purposefully than the last time I asked you an important question – whether you'd like to spend the rest of your life with me. I love you, Leslie Toddington, I love every single little thing about you except for the fact that we don't share a marriage certificate, and I'd like to change that. So – what say? Will you marry me?"

He saw as her face cycled through bewilderment and shock before settling on tearful happiness, eyes shining as she yanked him to his feet off of his knees, still clutching the small box with a classic small diamond ring inside, and sobbed out a yes, kissing him harder than she ever had before, laughing into his mouth with pure joy; and felt himself relax and get a little teary himself. Mission accomplished.

X-XXX-X

May 2010

"Hey, Col. I have someone for you to meet with me today – it's your namesake. Say hi, Colin! … Right, he's a month old. I suppose that's a bit too small to expect a wave. Also, he's asleep, by the way, in case you couldn't see. But I wanted to bring him with me to see you. It's the first time you're meeting properly, after all. Mum and dad and Leslie will be here soon, but I wanted to come by a little earlier. Get some time together, the three of us.

He looks a lot like me, which means he looks a lot like you; as much as babies can look like anyone at all. I suppose all babies are a little indeterminate looking, aren't they? I do wish he'd gotten some of Leslie's good looks. But you and I did alright, eh? So, I guess it's not that bad that he looks like us.

We thought about what to name him for a long, long while when Leslie was pregnant; you know. I always wonder whether it does more harm than good, giving children weighty legacies to live up to in the names we give them. But in the end, we – Leslie and I - couldn't imagine calling him anything else. He had to be Colin, because this world deserves to have a Colin in it. Even if it's not the same Colin that left.

And don't worry, I won't expect him to live up to you. Colin's his own person, just like you were. But I do hope he inherits some things from his uncle – his curiosity, his fearlessness, his irrepressibleness. And I know he'll always have someone up there, or out there, in you. He inherited that from me, because you always looked out for me too.

It's been twelve years Col, and I can't say missing you has gotten any easier. I suppose I've just learned to live with it. I'd say I can't wait to see you again, but I hope it isn't for a long, long time. And in the meantime, we'll just keep collecting stories to tell each other, okay?"

X-XXX-X

January 2011

"Hey, boss, got a minute?" Rose Zeller popped her head into Senior Auror Harry Potter's office.

"Sure – what do you have for me, Rose?"

"Just got a report in from Gringotts Liaison Fleur Weasley – they're seeing an increase in Muggle money being converted to Galleons over the last month, it got flagged by the new systems set into place after the Tiffany case. So, they've reported it to us."

"Hmm. Could you get me that report please?"

X-XXX-X

A/N: That bit with Dennis and the two Colins killed me. This whole chapter killed me. I actually ended up having to rewrite most of it because of a computer problem, but I prefer this one to the one that existed earlier; so, all's well that ends well.

This officially marks the transition from character study to case!fic. Dennis is now all grown up, a middle ranking Auror in his own right, married, with a child. His story – for me – is mostly done. However, some of the plot threads that have been brewing in past chapters finally have a chance to see the light. This is the part that is also going to be the hardest for me to write, so updates may go from weekly to every ten days. I also have to grapple with wizarding money now, and I hate it because prices in the Wizarding World make no sense whatsoever. I am going with the Lexicon's estimate of a galleon being actually equivalent to about US$25. I looked up the amounts associated with jewellery store robberies, and they all seem to be several million dollars, so I went with 25 million dollars worth of stuff stolen, i.e. a million galleons.

We'll be moving into more plot-based things now that all the character stuff is out of the way, and I'm excited to actually see if I can write a compelling mystery plot that keeps you all guessing.

As always, review if you enjoyed it – and review if you didn't :D