Dennis learned aurors could make life exceedingly difficult as well. Thwacklehorn held him for five hours in her office. She made a show of going off to find this record or that, and then questioned him repeatedly on the Lewisham Street series of events . Evening crept over the Ministry and the Auror Office cleared out. By the time she released Dennis with a promise to continue the interview, as she labeled the session, at a later time. He departed angry and hungry, but somewhat satisfied he got to waste her time as well. While Dennis realized antagonizing her at each step along the way did him no favors, he wanted to show her he would not be cowed by her over-exaggerated authority and demeanor. It became a contest of wills by the time it got called to a halt. No one won, and Dennis counted it a default victory in his book.
"It might be best to let the Ministry have a look at the items," Professor Flitwick advised him three days after Dennis' interrogation at the Auror Office. The evening settled in around them.
Dennis sighed and shifted in the chair. The cheery fire warmed the room against the cold and damp outside the castle. Although winter rapidly approached its conclusion, the weather decided to pout. Low clouds hung over the country and a cold northwest wind never ceased. The cup of tea rested in the younger wizard's hand and served a dual purpose.
"Even if it goes against Lord North's wishes?" He asked as he started in the caramel-colored liquid in the cup.
"Well, I'm sure he thinks he has a say, but he did bequeath it to you," said the tiny man wearing fuzzy slippers and a fitted housecoat, but did not sound certain. "You're not keeping anything… illegal for him, are you?"
"What? No, Professor. Besides, the detectors at the bank would sound off if I tried sneak something like that in. The agreement I signed for the vault pretty much said the goblins would feed me to the dragons if I tried to hide any dark agency items… as they called 'em. I think it's part of their security against another Voldemort using their banks to store weapons," Dennis answered and tried not to take umbrage at the question.
"I trust you're correct since the goblins don't like to play games with their customer's holdings."
Dennis agreed with his former teacher.
"Now, about this character who seems more than willing to kill you…"
"I don't think he wanted to kill me," Dennis interjected. "Maybe he wanted to kill the auror, but not me. What good would it do? Wouldn't get him anywhere since my parents would get the galleons and you'd get everything else."
"I appreciate your trust in me, Dennis, my boy, but it doesn't diminish the threat to your life. From the sounds if it, this fellow is unlikely to halt his attempts to acquire whatever it is he thinks you have," Professor Flitwick said, and then glanced around. "If you do, indeed, have it."
"Funny thing is, he never told me what he wanted. Just said he wanted to see a list of what Thomas gave me, so I don't know what he's actually after."
Professor Flitwick gave him a long, searching glance.
"Alright, there's maybe three or four things there he might be wanting, but it's just small stuff. What he's been hinting at sounds like something the goblins would go batty about. Thomas didn't traffic in items like that," Dennis responded to the look, and a sense of guilt he deliberately lied to his mentor roared to life in the back of his mind. However, he did not want to put the man in any direct danger and lack of information would give the professor deniability.
"And you already said the detectors at in vaults would single it out, but, Dennis, what if it's something that just seems insignificant until someone actually uses it?" The professor opined with a question.
Dennis shrugged as an ugly feeling settled into his stomach. He touched the Heptagon several times and never felt even a mote of magic emanate from it. As Pressor Flitwick correctly speculated, the danger is contained would not be realized until long after someone used it. The object itself did not pose any direct threat. Dennis sent his gaze searching the bottom of the teacup.
"And you've addressed this to Lord North?"
"We talked about everything he left me… wonder if they want his spellbook?" Dennis replied and a new thought struck him.
"Is it a grimoire?" Professor Flitwick inquired.
"Not like the ones chained up in the library here. It's just a book that contains maybe hundreds of spells. I've flipped through the pages and most of 'em don't even make sense to me. I'm not sure Thomas even knows about all of them."
The professor seemed to brighten and said: "Then that maybe exactly what they're after. Some of those spellbooks contain spells lost for centuries. The market for them is quite active. Do you think Lord North would object if you showed me the book?"
"I'll ask, but I don't see why not. He knows how much I trust you, and, well, both him and Lucia say they like you. They appreciate the times you've gone out to talk to them," he stated the truth to the man.
Professor Flitwick smiled at the comment and said: "They are quite charming, and you've made very strong allies in them. Of course, you did perform a rather admirable service for Lord North, Dennis, so, and I say this without reservation, they look upon you as a part of their family now. Now, stop being embarrassed whenever someone commends you for your actions."
"I've told you this a hundred times, but I don't feel like I did much of anything," Dennis rejoined. "I just couldn't walk away and leave him like that once I found out what happened to him."
"And I attribute that to the treatment you received at the hands of some your classmates. That's the remarkable part, Dennis: your suffering made you more empathetic and sympathetic to others instead of making you bitter and angry. Plus, look at the wonderful paths it led you down!"
"Like someone trying to do me no good?"
"Which means you've done something important. Don't forget Voldemort singled out Harry and turned him into the Dark Lord's own means of defeat," stated Professor Flitwick with a knowing nod of his head.
"You do know that's not an encouragement, right, Professor?" The younger man quipped.
The professor chuckled.
"Speaking of Harry, he wants to invite me to his wedding. He told me right in front of Auror Thwacklehorn. Can't quite get why, but it was nice of him," Dennis said and hoped to change topics.
"Because he knows good people when he sees them, my boy, and he knows you're one of the few who understands what his life entailed. I think Harry looks at people like you, ones who suffered tremendous loss and faced hardships but never lost their sense of compassion and humanity, as a reminder of what he needed to do and why. You do understand you share that in common with him?"
Dennis felt his face heat up again and turn scarlet. To be compared to Harry Potter on such intimate terms did embarrass him because he thought it a wild stretch. Harry, he knew full well, repeatedly risked his life – even to the point of sacrificing it – for the good of both the magi and muggle worlds. The young wizard thought his friend erred in placing him in the same league.
"One day you might agree, and perhaps your refusal to accept such accolades makes you the better person," Professor Flitwick gently said.
Dennis rolled his eyes, and the small but powerful man snickered. Then, the professor quieted and a serious visage took root on his face. Dennis wondered at the abrupt change.
"Now, you still have real problem facing you in regard to your man, Cameron."
"Yeah, I know. Harry told me they still haven't decided on when the Wizengamot is going to meet to hear my case," Dennis recounted.
"And I'm thinking this actually works in your favor. If the Wizengamot cannot reach consensus, you're case might get dismissed," Professor Flitwick openly speculated.
"You really think they're going to let a muggle who knows about witches and wizards just run around free?"
From there Dennis and Professor Flitwick debated what the development could mean. Because he scribbled a note to his parents on the magicked chalkboard, he did not feel out of sorts when planning on his defense started anew. Professor Flitwick recommended Dennis research past Wizengamot cases regarding magi-muggle interaction and, especially, interpersonal relationships. Together they created a list of criteria to help with the investigation. Despite his wariness regarding all things concerning his situation with Cameron, Dennis felt another spark of hope bloom in his chest. Professor Flitwick's agile and clever mind acted as balm for the younger man.
Before Dennis departed the castle, he went for a visit with Peeves. The poltergeist demanded to hear a full accounting of the man in the yellow hat. Then, he continually requested Dennis thank him for the superior lessons in ducking and weaving. It became a game of feeding the spirit's bottomless ego, and they ended up laughing about the incident in the end. However, Peeves still wanted full praises for his tutelage of the younger living man. Lastly, Dennis turned to the matter of Mother of the Fen. The poltergeist promised he made some headway with the forlorn ghost and would soon secure Dennis another interview. Peeves heard numerous times the mortal wizard reached a dead-end in the investigation.
"Why are you so keen on me helping this one?" Dennis asked his ethereal friend.
"Surely thou has ears in your head? When her season of mourning comes, it is but a sleepless time for all regardless if one uses legs or drifts about," Peeves told him.
"Oh, I see. Compassion for yourself."
"Quite," the ghost snickered and continued to swim in circles around Dennis' head.
Dennis leaned against the final stile of the staircase. As usual, they met in Peeves' private domain. While any could venture to the bottom of the stairwell, only Dennis and Argus Filch did so on a regular basis. Dennis differed from the castle caretaker in willingly making the trek. Everyone knew it took weeks for the headmistress to get Filch to go into the well using prods and threats.
"Now, Snot, why dost this man beleaguer you so, and what, pray tell, do you possess that holds his interest? I suspect thee to be less than circumspect with me in this regard," the poltergeist pestered the young wizard yet again.
"Asking me to break my confidence with Lord North?" Dennis responded.
"Certainly not, knave!"
"Then I can't tell you."
"If thou were more morally pliable, I would have answers from you!" Peeves railed at him, but his tone hinted more at mischief.
Dennis snickered at the spirit's unending and unwavering commitment to needle people to distraction. However, unlike the other mortals of the castle, it became one of the hallmarks of their relationship as friends that Peeves would only push so far. They could joke about exposing secrets and violating pacts, but the intent never approached seriousness. The use of the Unbreakable Vow between them became more symbolic than a necessity.
"I need to ask you something, Peeves," Dennis announced a shift in the topic.
"I shall never be thy paramour! You would sully my good and chaste name!" The poltergeist seized the moment in his response, and then laughed in a crazy fashion. Most who heard his laugh tended to scatter.
"Git," Dennis commented, but only managed to elicit more laughter from the spirit. "No, but, and I'm serious about this Peeves, did you ever know about a wizard or witch falling in love with a muggle and the Ministry never did anything about it?"
Peeves halted spiraling through the air and floated downward until he nearly rested at eye-level with his visitor. The black eyes stared into the blue-gray ones. Dennis felt an involuntary shudder ripple through him. Looking into Peeves' eyes meant looking into a stretch of time that defied the imagination. The ghost already lived nearly ten lifetimes over what a magical person could expect, save for alchemists who created Philosopher Stones. While Thomas yearned for his freedom from his condition, Peeves turned it into his raison d'être.
"Oh, my dear Weavy Creevey, you have developed a taste danger," the poltergeist all but crooned in a marginally sinister fashion.
"So, that means yes?" Dennis plied for a real answer.
"Thou needs look no further than the high office of the Minister itself. I would think with all the hours spent in libraries of late you would have stumbled upon the delicate story or two to be found," Peeves said and seemed delighted to be able to spread gossip. "Oh, but see thou to the times before the Ministry came to be. Such tales, both rude and glorious, did assail the years of doings and goings-on of the Chief Warlocks and Head Sorceresses!"
"Hang on, what's a Head Sorceress?"
"Until that grisly time in Salem in the revolting colonies and elsewhere, the Wizengamot many times saw a Head Sorceress preside over its affairs. Even to this day the Chief Warlock may be of the fairer sex if so chosen. And even to this day the most powerful among the magical kind produce muggle children. Know they enemy, boy, to understand how they regard you."
In the cold of the base of the stairwell, Dennis stood with his mouth hanging open. Professor Binns never once talked about female leaders of the wizarding world in England or Europe for that matter, although everyone knew about the female president of the Magical Congress of the United States of America during the reign of terror enacted by Gellert Grindelwald. Often times the history professor would simply refer to a name without any other identifying information. Hence, Dennis could not begin to calculate the number of times the spectral history professor referred to magical women leaders without actually saying it. Yet aside from that, Peeves' mention of powerful magical families producing muggle and squib children seemed out of joint with the rest of his statement, but the edge to words caught his attention.
Peeves suddenly hovered closer to Dennis and whispered: "But therein is a mystery of magic, Snot, as from whence it originates. Didst thou never wonder as to why thee and your brother became wizards in family long since arid of magical ability? Hmm?"
"All the time to be honest," Dennis admitted what he admitted to dozens of other people. "Why? And for starters, my mum never slept with a wizard!"
Peeves cackled at Dennis' defensive statement about his mother.
"Hermione came from muggles, too," he muttered at the ghost while contemplating the point the poltergeist attempted to make.
"Ooh, that one! So clever a witch from such humble origins… or are they?"
"Peeves what are you getting onto? It's getting cold down here and I need to get home," Dennis asked in a churlish tone.
The smile that emerged on his friend's face unnerved the young wizard, but the words the ghost spoke removed the fear: "Hear now how a poet not long ago said 'The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.' They called him a muggle, but how then did he understand this? To what sense did he grow accustomed?"
"I know you're trying to make a point, but… I'm not seeing it."
"Dullard."
"That was helpful," Dennis sarcastically rejoined.
"If fortune favors you and the chance arises, ask your beau why he took cause to worry over your person enough to set himself to spying upon thy movements," Peeves rejoined and again refused to give a direct answer.
"Because he loves me, and he worried about me."
"Ach! Thou vexes me with your simple thoughts and ideas. Away with thee, Snot, and think well on what I say," Peeves grumbled at him while floating upside down so his head nearly touched the floor. "I am off to make certain sleepy pates do not retire too soon!"
Dennis wanted to continue talking, but Peeves zoomed upward into the air while his receding face wore a manic expression. He never righted himself, and the ghost flew off facing the floor. The poltergeist honed a specific skill to drive the young wizard mad in relaying only hints and tidbits regarding greater matters. Dennis heard caution as well as new leads in Peeves' statements, but sorting through it raised the proverbial needle in a haystack conundrum. The young man stood gazing at the spot where he knew the last mortal remains of Peeves lay. Then something the ghost told him at the Yule thundered through his brain.
"You were almost a squib, but not your sister or brother," Dennis mumbled aloud. "And your parents were Druids. What the hell are you trying to tell me?"
The frustration grew in him as he disapparated to the front gates of the school. Since the battle, no one got disapparate out of or apparate into the school grounds. The puzzle of Peeves' mortal life, a story recounted to him as a personal gift from the poltergeist, seemed relevant at the moment, except Dennis could not imagine how or why. Then again, the spirit told him he needed to know, or rather understand, his enemies. He already counted the man in the yellow bowler as a foe, but Peeves hinted at something closer and more familiar. It began to force his hand.
"Denny, you need to be sharp," Mr. Odpadki rounded on him after Dennis slept the entire way to the job site.
Kate the magically-augmented truck shuddered to a halt as if upset her owner did not let her run rampant over the roads. The motions jostled Dennis into a wakeful state. His boss glowered at him.
"Sorry," Dennis said through a yawn. "I was at the York Annex late last night."
"This is your job; not chasing 'round after ghost stories!"
"Doing research for my case with the Ministry."
"Oh," the man said in a might quieter tone. "Sorry, I thought… well, you know what I thought. Sorry 'bout that."
"No, it's alright. I shouldn't have been there that late, but Peeves put these ideas into my head, and I can't shake 'em loose," Dennis replied and began to stretch. His back still felt cramped from sitting on the floor of the Ministry Library Annex in York hunched over books until well past midnight.
"That one might just be trying to wind you up."
"Maybe, he's done it before, but this time…. No, he was trying to tell me something, or get me to figure out the facts. Not sure yet, and I've got a ton more reading to do today."
"Save it for later. We're at the Abjurhaus', and I told how they are 'bout their vegetable plots," the owner of Rapid Removal reminded sleepy young wizard.
With spring nearly on the British Isles, every person who turned a plot of land into a garden set to work on preparing the soil. The Abjurhaus family liked to grow peppers, and hot peppers in especial. In order to make their peppers murderously hot, they used a varied mix of dragon manures mixed with ammonia and magnesium compounds. Their fertilizer did not age well over the winter, as Mr. Odpadki explained, and the mix grew exceptionally volatile. Dennis got treated to stories regarding the explosion in the 1980s everyone assumed to be an IRA bombing, but the muggle authorities could not figure out why Badger's Mount became a target. The one-meter deep crater and the far-flung detritus conflicted with the absolute lack of bomb materials. It remained a quietly unsolved bombing in Scotland Yard records, but the Ministry of Magic cited the Abjurhaus family for improper storage and use of dragon-related material. Dennis learned dozens of citations got handed out every year for similar reasons.
"Remember what I told you if we see smoke?" His employer questioned him like a marine sergeant.
"Run! Fast!" Dennis crisply answered.
"Right! Now, follow me. I want to show you the hole from the eighties."
Dennis and Mr. Odpadki wandered through the small borough of the magical community nestled between Badger' Mount and Well Hill. Very old but neatly tended homes dotted either side of Chelsfield Lane and either side of M25 bypass to the A21 and A24. The stone border walls, most covered in a fine patina of moss, separated one plot from another. Dennis never saw such large amounts of space given over to the homes. It seemed to violate the basic English and London rule of postage stamp-sized yards. It did not take long before Dennis saw the deep depression in the ground. Clover, grass, creeper vine, and weeds took root in the scar. Two men dressed in identical coveralls stood and gazed at the small crater.
"That right there was caused by a pile half the size of your average trash bin. Sent flaming dragon poo and dirt hundreds of yards up and out from here. They say on warm summer days you can still smell it," Mr. Odpadki explained.
Dennis stared in awe at the hole that would submerge him up to and past his waist.
"And this is why Kate is built like she is. Jobs like this got my company started when no one else wanted to touch this stuff. Spent my first few springs doing nothing but hauling dragon fertilizer out to the Maldon dumping ground where it gets spread out very thin very carefully. Stinks to high hell all summer. Locals just think it's a peat bog gone bad, so they stay away from it."
"Are we staying the night out there?" Dennis asked the logical question.
"If you don't mind," Mr. Odpadki half-requested. "We've got to make sure it doesn't catch fire when it gets its first taste of air and overnight dew. Once it gets twenty-four hours of breathing and exposure, the stuff is usually pretty safe."
Dennis nodded his head, but then thought of an issue, so he said: "I didn't bring my overnight kit with me."
"Are you awake enough to pop home and get it?" His boss queried. "'Cause I can get everything else set up for the lift. But you need to make it fast. I don't want to be handling this alone, and we've got a packed schedule."
"I won't be more than fifteen minutes at most," Dennis promised.
Mr. Odpadki nodded, and the younger wizards twisted into the nether. The trip home also gave him a chance to tell his mother what got planned. Aside from packing spare clothes and his toiletry kit, Dennis took as much reading material as he could cram into his overnight bag along with his notebook and favorite pens. The previous night of research began to shed a little light on what Peeves cryptically told him and bolstered the defense plans he made with Professor Flitwick. Thus, with an overstuffed backpack swinging from his shoulder, Dennis returned to the job site via the Ministry apparation station.
Dennis and Mr. Odpadki spent thirty-five minutes, when Dennis returned, examining the old fertilizer and compost heap. They also spoke with the owners, Kalen and Wren Abjurhaus, who gave them a concise breakdown of the manure components and portions. They stated they started using the cast-off manure pile as a compost heap because it just seemed natural. Both rubbish collectors agreed the additional vegetation and other biodegradable trash made the removal all the more difficult. They could see scorch marks on some of the paper items mixed into the heap. They did not, however and with great fortune, see or smell any smoke. Granted, the natural smell of dragon dung could desensitize the nose in the time it took cough thrice, but the pile spent nearly a year weathering in the out of doors. Mr. Odpadki stared at his employee for a second.
"In my experience, leviosa doesn't cause it to explode, but we're going to have to move it gently, see?" The man told Dennis.
"I'm following your lead on this one, Mister Odpadki. You've been doing this for as long as I've been alive," Dennis immediately deferred to the man.
"You got a pretty gentle touch with spells, Denny, and that's why I wanted you on this one. Even when not sitting on the ground, if this stuff explodes, it can kill you. So, I do mean gently."
Dennis bobbed his head in complete agreement. He understood why Mr. Odpadki showed him the crater from the old explosion. It drove home the point of the destructive power. The young wizard also felt a relieved he did not go into detail about the nature of the job at hand with his mother. He simply called it delicate and that it required a distant drop. His mother accepted the explanation while accepting a kiss on the cheek. Hence, Dennis harbored more than one reason to make certain nothing untoward occurred during the removal.
"Ever done feeler magic?" Mr. Odpadki inquired.
"You mean perimeter location detection?" Dennis rephrased the question.
"I, ah, okay that. I take it you have?"
"Practiced in school, and Sasha makes me use it all the time. Did she really get swarmed by mortar beetles one time?"
"Scared the life out of her. Them little buggers are good shots, and those tiny rounds can really hurt if you get enough of 'em aimed at you," his boss confirmed the story told by his daughter.
Dennis read that mortar beetles started off as bombardier beetles, but mutated within a magical field sometime in the last two hundred years. They differed from their muggle ancestors in that their abdomens looked like a small drab green tube attached to small, light brown thorax and head. Instead of shooting a hot, noxious liquid from their rear ends at an enemy, mortar beetles lobbed small explosive charges and often did so in a brigade that would make any English army major proud. While a single mortar beetle could cause annoyance, a hundred or a thousand could pose a severe threat to life and limb.
"Now, remember, it's invenio perimetri and you move your wand like this to show the area," Mr. Odpadki said and demonstrated a spell Dennis knew quite well.
Dennis did not object to the reminder lesson, and he replicated the movements to placate the man. The nervous caution of his employer lent weight to the dangerous situation they confronted, and one that would make Dennis' parents livid if they ever found out about this particular collection duty.
Mr. Odpadki carried out the spell, and Dennis followed suit. Soon, two individual outlines of the pile hovered over the heap of refuse. They appeared identical. Dennis them mumbled the spell again and added a numbering component to the spell. The exercise reminded him of the object that sat in his vault. Within seconds, the dimensional measurements of each side appeared.
"Gods, you are clever," Mr. Odpadki said with appreciation. "Tell me what you did."
Dennis did. He explained the word he added, the intent behind it, and the slightly augmented wand movement. For a second time the measurements drifted in the air next to the outline of the dung heap. Mr. Odpadki repeated the ritual, and numbers glowed along the sides of most of his hovering diagram. Dennis gave another demonstration, and this time methodically enunciated the words and exaggerated the wand movements. His boss made another attempted, and got very good results.
"Simple and brilliant," the man said and nodded. "Extra two galleons for you for that one, but you're going to teach it to everyone."
"You know those blokes don't listen to me," Dennis factually stated.
"They will this time! That gussy-upped spell you just figured out will save a lot of time on other jobs where we got to take measures first."
"Okay, but you've got to agree I get to hex Baker if he starts with his shit again."
"Just as long as you don't turn him into something that can't work," Mr. Odpadki agreed with a wink.
Dennis chuckled, and they started to examine the floating drawings. The measurements did come in handy since it allowed them to identify the depth of the pile and decide how to move it into the cargo hold of Kate. They then began preparing for the most delicate part of the operation that could get both of them killed. Dennis felt his nerves act up. However, he clamped down on the urge to giggle. Of late, it became a worsening habit to the annoyance of anyone who heard it.
"Alright, I'm going to take the head end, and you man the rear," Mr. Odpadki told him and barely contained his smirk. "Need you to guide me as we go along."
"Yeah, I'll guide you guide right enough," Dennis returned, along with the grin.
The man turned out to be the only one who felt comfortable and free with making lighthearted jokes regarding Dennis' sexuality, and he never took offense when Dennis lobbed it back at him. The only exceptions came in the form of Cameron's friends and Peeves. Peeves delighted in finding some way to needle Dennis about his sexuality. Yet, like Mr. Odpadki, it never seemed to come from a place of spite. Peeves simply excelled at discovering ways to annoy any living person within a ten meter range of his incorporeal form.
"Okay, like a whisper, like a cloud passing by," the older wizard said in a voice that grew softer with each word. "When I say go. Okay. One. Two. Three. Go."
Dennis and Mr. Odpadki said the spell at the same time in the same gentle, soft manner. They did not inject a lot of magic. Seconds ticked by and nothing happened. Dennis, however, could feel the very mild flow of energies through his hand into his wand. Mr. Odpadki also held still and kept his wand aimed at the target. For a minute they waited. Then, as if a trick of the eye, the small mound began to rise. Moments after cracks appeared beneath the bottom and the ground, a powerful waft of dragon dung odor assailed them. Dennis ignored it as best he could. Instead, he searched with his all senses for the signs the manure would ignite.
"Okay, when I say go, I'm going start walking backward," Mr. Odpadki told him. "Keep in step. If this lot falls to the ground, they won't find enough of us to bury."
Dennis could not quell his reaction, and a small titter escaped. Mr. Odpadki only glanced at him for half a second before saying the trigger word. The two carefully moved the slightly steaming, stinking heap of unstable detritus from its former home to the back of Kate. They moved with deliberate caution at a snail's pace. Their earlier examination paid off when they managed to maneuver the mound into the armored, reinforced hold of the truck. With the same care as when they lifted it, the two wizards gradually set the pile down. Once at rest, Mr. Odpadki gingerly if rapidly closed and sealed the door. He leaned against it. Sweat rolled down his face despite the chill March air. Dennis also felt sweat sliding down his back and sides.
"You're worth you weight in galleons, Denny, 'cause that was the easier transfer I can remember in a long while, and that was a big slag of dynamite we just moved," said the man with overtones of mental exhaustion tinted his voice. "Now, we just got to get this to Meldon and do the same trick."
"What if it explodes on the way?" Dennis questioned and worry colored his words.
Mr. Odpadki smiled in a self-satisfied manner and replied: "Oh, Kate can handle it. We'll get a good bounce if it goes off, but her sides will hold. Trust me, lad, this lorry's been tested. It'll keep together. I'll wager she could've handled the eighty's explosion."
Dennis trusted the man and, in this case, really needed to trust the man knew his business. Thus far in his career with Rapid Removal, nothing unexpected happened because they planned and took precautions. Sometimes Dennis worried about the compacted ball of trash they sent into orbit around the planet, but that proved a one-time situation in which they all learned. Hence, Dennis nodded his head as if concurring with the assessment of the highly modified vehicle.
Fifteen minutes later Mr. Odpadki accepted payment from the Abjurhaus family and a hearty round of thanks. They appeared completely relieved to be freed from the unsafe refuse, but all knew they would repeat the accumulation process during the year as the family tended to their garden. Since first coming across the murderous plot of ground in Wadsworth Commons, it seemed Rapid Removal got an exponential increase in calls to deal with garden problems. Perhaps word traveled, but Dennis remembered Mr. Odpadki and his crew dealt with similar situations year after year.
"Mind if I ask you something personal?" The man driving the lorry inquired one they entered the main traffic on northbound M25.
"Sure. You never ask the bad ones like your daughter does," Dennis rejoined.
Mr. Odpadki wore a knowing grimace for a moment, and then asked: "How is it you're not afraid to tinker with spells like that seeing as you're not long out of school?"
"I don't know. If you're careful, you can make changes."
"No, Denny, what you do isn't just some small changes. Well, maybe today was, but you've worked some pretty tricky magic. When I was in school, they always warned us about doing that. Ever noticed that more than half of what we deal with comes from people tinkering too much?"
Dennis sat on his side of the lorry and gave it some thought. His boss gave him time while navigating the aggressive, heavy lorry around other vehicles. The trip to Maldon carrying highly critical substances, in direct violation of English law that Mr. Odpadki never seemed concerned about, would take around an hour depending on traffic. The question rattled around the young's man skull, and he never landed on a concrete answer.
"I don't know," Dennis repeated when his attention snapped to the present. "Didn't have much to do 'cept study magic once I got outed. Then the ghosts and pictures helped me, and they were a lot tougher than most of my teachers. Professor Artura said the true mark of witch or wizard showed in how they made magic work for them. She's the one who always pushed me to understand what a spell really is. It sort of became habit dissecting a charm or a hex to see what makes it work. Besides, I like magic that actually does something worthwhile, and half the spells out there are for dueling and screwing around with people."
"Well, I'm going to tell you something that'll make your thinking go hinky for a while, but I think you need to hear it," Mr. Odpadki spoke in a solemn fashion and got Dennis' undivided attention. "The other fellows on the crew, it's not you being gay they're worried about: it's how you use magic, Denny. Your knowledge of it. They all know there's a reason why you went to Hogwarts."
"Don't be daft," he refuted the assertion.
"No, boy, I'm not being daft. I've heard them talking!"
"Sorry," Dennis apologized when he heard the real reproval in the man's voice.
"Sometimes I try to imagine what it was like when you and your brother were running around that place. Sounds to me like you two got more out of that school than just about anyone else," said Mr. Odpadki in a kinder tone.
Dennis sighed and his mind drifted back in time. He thought of the hours he and Colin spent gamboling around Hogwarts trying to find out as much as they could. Sometimes they got into trouble, but that never staunched their appetite for magic.
"Colin was fearless," he said quietly to his memories. "Nothing about magic scared him. Even after he got frozen by the basilisk… he just got up and couldn't wait to tell me what it was like and how it felt. It was his first year there, and he acted like he went off on holiday some place. My parents just about shit all over themselves when we had to go see what happened to him."
"Think that's why your dad doesn't like magic?"
"Probably where it got started," Dennis agreed. "Then when I got my letter, it was like Dad took sick for a week. But me and Colin didn't notice. He was so excited I was a wizard, too, and he wanted to show me everything. Everything!"
By that point tears trailed down Dennis' face as he recalled those happy days when he learned he possessed the same gift as his older brother. It also meant he would get to share in the grand adventure with one of the people he loved most in the world, someone who understood him without needing to think about it, and one of the greatest supporters of his life. Dennis' head dropped and he stared at his hands.
"Sorry, Denny. Sometimes I forget how much magic is tied up with your memories about your brother," the man gently said.
"It was… god, it was the best when I found out I was going to Hogwarts… that we were going to go to school together again," Dennis recounted. "I missed him so much when he first left. That first year he was at Hogwarts, I think that's when I realized how much he meant to me. Colin left me alone and went off to be a wizard. I didn't care if he was wizard, I just wanted him to come home."
The hand that landed on his shoulder startled him, but it grabbed hold and squeezed. Dennis settled, and then he leaned into the comforting contact. Mr. Odpadki drove the lorry while staring forward with a slightly unfocused gaze in his eyes.
"I've talked to Ollie about you and Colin. Hearing you makes me appreciate him that much more. Me and Ollie didn't figure out what it meant to be brothers 'til after he moved out, and we didn't see him for a couple of years. That's when I realized him being gay didn't mean one damn thing. It took us a few years to really figure it all out between us, but now… I listen to you… can't imagine what you've gone through, Denny."
Dennis sniffed a little before he said: "I keep thinking it'll go away one day, all this hurt, but it doesn't. It's always there. I always miss Colin. Sometimes I think I studied magic the way I did for the both of us. He taught me to love magic as much as him, Mister Odpadki."
"No need to convince me about that, but I think you love it all on your own, too. You understand spells like no one I've ever known," the man said sans any affection. "But… well, I think you're missing your brother is going to last a long time. You can't love someone that much and then just turn it off. Doesn't work like. He's going to part of you for the rest of your life, Denny, so… that pain might always be there."
Dennis nodded his head.
"But you can't let that stop you from being you're own person. You owe it to yourself, and Colin, to live a real life. You're already getting out there and doing some amazing things. Don't ever let the hurt you feel for losing him keep you back. I don't think he'd like that, not by the way you describe him."
"He'd call me a prat if he knew how upset I get sometimes when I think about him. He'd say I was being a right git," the younger of the two intoned.
"But you're not, so… but maybe…. I can't really say. Ollie would call me a git, too, but he'd understand," Mr. Odpadki said and chuckled.
"Are you this close with your other brothers and sisters?" Dennis asked.
"No. Alexander never got over the whole gay thing, so he cut Ollie out completely. Al will only talk to me if I don't bring him up, but I do… all the time," the man said, and a slightly sinister snicker emerged. "Hanna doesn't care, same as me, so we're still pretty close. My parents never did come to terms with Ollie, and they never spoke to him again. They never got the chance to say good-bye to each other."
Listening to the man and hearing how the Odpadki family reacted to one of their own gave Dennis some perspective. While it took his parents a while to accept him in totality, or mostly, he could see how the history between them could play out in an entirely different manner. Dennis began to feel a bit fortunate in that regard.
"Your whole family is magi, right, Mister Odpadki?"
"Down to the last niece and nephew. My parents fled Poland when the old Soviet-backed regime started getting worse and worse. You wouldn't believe how they treated witches and wizards, Denny. I'm pretty certain they would've put Oliver to death if they stayed."
"They didn't teach us much about the muggle world at Hogwarts. My dad likes to fill me in on what he thinks I missed, and sometimes he gets it dead wrong. Sometimes I like to make him watch documentaries with me. Makes him squirm," Dennis added and confessed to the limits of his ignorance.
Mr. Odpadki snickered along with his employee. Kate heaved back and forth as the man drove along, and Dennis started to wonder if his boss intended to detonate the dragon manure. However, it did not explode. The lorry happily growled as it passed other vehicles. Dennis could see the worried expression on the other motorists' faces as the bulky, noisy hauler passed them. Mr. Odpadki seemed entirely oblivious to their reactions. He navigated the lorry as of the others on the road should accommodate its presence and, more importantly, eccentricities.
"Mister Odpadki, I, um… well, don't quite know how to say this," Dennis began and stuttered to a halt.
"Out with it, lad," the man urged him.
"Just… thanks for being so nice to me and talking to me about all this stuff."
"Still haven't figured it out, have you?"
"Figured what out?"
"That I like you as a person. You're honest and decent. That counts in my book, and…," and Mr. Odpadki paused for obvious dramatic effect. "And you help my business. I can send you and Sasha out on tough calls and never have to worry it'll get done right and on time. Yes, the other lads on the crew are jealous of you, but I keep asking them to rise to the same level. They don't, so you get all the important and good work."
"Mister Odpadki, don't…" Dennis began protest.
"Oh, shut it now, Denny. I'm not just sitting here blowing warm air up your robes. How many times do I have to tell you you proved your worth? Sure, I like you well enough, but if you weren't as good as you are on the job, you'd be working a shovel, too," Mr. Odpadki forcibly interrupted.
"Yeah, thanks."
"You're young and you're still learning, but you came into this with a lot of smarts that didn't come from just book learning. This job requires quick thinking, analytical thinking, and that's what you've shown me. Why do you think I give you the time off to go hounding 'round the country for those ghost friends of yours? Every time you come back, you think just a little more carefully. It becomes part of your instincts. That, Dennis Creevey, has real value in the world!"
"Now you are blowing smoke up my kilt," Dennis grumbled.
Mr. Odpadki started to laugh, and Dennis did as well. In many respects, the man became akin to a favorite uncle in a relatively short period of time. Moreover, his employee encouraged him to speak honestly and openly when an issue plagued him because, as Mr. Odpadki repeatedly stated, a distracted mind could lead to a fatal calamity. The cargo they currently transported gave testament to that possibility. A thought struck Dennis as he reviewed the past few minutes in his mind.
"What kind of stabilizing spell are you using in the hold?" He inquired seemingly out of the blue.
"Finally noticed nothing every really touches the floor or sides of the hold?" Mr. Odpadki rejoined.
"Not really. Just noticed we're not lying around in pieces on the road 'cause you're not driving all that carefully."
"Funny how none of the other boys mentioned that to me, and I am driving carefully… ish."
Dennis smirked and rolled his eyes.
"Didn't Sasha ever take you through how we prep Kate?" His boss questioned.
The strawberry-blonde hair waved in the air when Dennis twitched his head from side to side. Cars and countryside streamed past the windows as they rolled down their road.
"Gonna have to get on that girl. She's supposed to show you how we get ready for certain types of hauls," the man grumbled and frowned a bit.
"She's pretty protective over Kate."
"Protective or not, there's some things you need to know."
"Even if I don't know how to drive?" Dennis queried.
"'Specially if you don't!"
For the next half hour Dennis received a very concise breakdown of how the Odpadkis operated one of their most important vehicles. He learned the extent to which he modified the vehicle, both magically and mechanically, and heard how the man left very little to chance. Dennis finally came to believe the lorry could withstand the explosive power of the dung heap in the cargo hold when Mr. Odpadki explained the armor plating and spell fortifications. It gave him understanding why Kate acted like an over-sized, surly bull. In essence, the lorry became an item the British muggle army would love to count among its provisions.