By the time Dennis returned home much later in the evening, his brain felt stretched thin. He and Thomas continued their disjointed conversation for most of the afternoon as Dennis attempted to discern what happened to the man. The mortal young man resorted to retrieving ink, parchment, and a quill from Professor Flitwick, and then took copious but fragmented notes. Piecing together what happened to Thomas became a very tricky task since Thomas could not answer direct or indirect questions regarding his demise. Dennis ended his day at Hogwarts sipping tea with Professor Flitwick, eating a plate of biscuits, and trying to make sense of what Thomas requested. His former professor suggested Dennis make it summer project while deciding what he would do with himself in the fall. It seemed a reasonable idea to his tired mind.
"I was thinking, love," his mother said the next morning at the dining table, "seems to be a lot of work without much promise of pay. You could end up wasting your whole summer."
"Yeah, I've been thinking 'bout that, too, Mum, but… can you imagine being stuck like Thomas is? He's been like that for almost two hundred and fifty years," Dennis countered as he munched on toast points and eggs.
"But you only get a reward if you figure out what happened to him, and even your professor said it could be a long stretch to discovering the truth."
Dennis sat and gazed at his mother. Since the death of his brother, she became highly protective over him. Sometimes it felt as if he looked into a magicked mirror since his face strongly resembled hers with the high cheekbones and forehead, wide eyes, and pointed chin. Dennis' eye, hair, and skin coloration came directly from father. Duncan and Jill Creevey seemed to equally contribute genetic material to both their living and deceased sons. He knew his parents saw Colin every time he looked at him. Dennis also saw his brother when he glanced in a mirror. Because of that, he looked at himself less frequently over the past three years. Everyone noted the uncanny resemblance between them and could see both parents in his face. The similarities, it seemed, ended there.
Unlike their sons, the Creevey parents maintained a proper British reserve. Where Colin and Dennis attained their rambunctious natures seemed a mystery if one discounted his mother's completely wild older brother. Tales of their antics, and mostly those of two boys terribly excited by the new world in which they found themselves, circulated back to their parents. Although he grew more somber following Colin's death and the increase in his personal troubles, Dennis never quite shed his freewheeling ways. He liked to run on his gut instinct. It ran him into trouble as often as not. At present his gut howled at him to chase down the facts about Thomas Lester.
"But Professor Flitwick also said it was worthwhile. He said the search for justice and truth is never wrong, and Thomas got wronged, Mum," he politely argued.
"You're a good lad for wanting to help, but… it just doesn't seem entirely productive, Dennis. Surely there's some career where you can earn a living and still use your magic, yes?" She challenged.
"I suppose, but I don't want to go work for the Ministry. That's where everyone seems to land, and I don't want that."
"Then what will you do? I don't think you're much in mind for going to a normal college or university. How would we even explain your transcript? Would you even qualify?"
"I don't know, but I do know I want to do something good with my magic. I want to make something with it and not just run around quoting rules all the time," Dennis openly debated with himself. "I was thinking spending a little time trying to solve this for Thomas might get me out and about and let me see what else is going on. It's not like you, Dad, or me know a lot of magic folk… and the professors at school seemed to think we'd all go rushing off for the Ministry. Besides, I like the idea of helping someone with what I can do."
Jill Creevey appeared distraught for a moment, but the expression vanished as quickly as it arrived. Dennis knew she thought constantly about Colin, as did he and his father. The loss of his brother deeply affected all of them. Dennis spent the rest of his time at Hogwarts feeling adrift, aside from everything else that happened. It seemed certain his older brother would know how to deal with the fallout from revelation of his sexuality. Not only did it happen at school, but at home as well. His parents eventually adjusted to the fact of their gay son, but it took many, many painful conversations over the course of a year. After they reached an accord, the remaining family members rarely discussed it. Dennis felt as though he needed to avoid bringing up the topic. Whenever they got close to the subject while talking, it made him giddy and nervous. Sometimes he would giggle inappropriately when his nerves got too tense.
"Dennis," she sighed his name in a worried manner, "will you be in any danger?"
"Mum, really? From what? Who's still be around from seventeen-sixty-one? This isn't like trying to investigate what happened to Princess Di," he countered.
"Ooh, be respectful, Dennis! I know there's no real royalty in your magical world, but here… here we still treat them with respect!"
Dennis snickered while his mother smoothed down her blouse as a sign of her exasperation. Emphasis got placed on bloodlines sans titles in the world of witches and wizards. Fuzzy memories of Professor Binns discussing the last real magical royalty made it sound as if centuries passed since magic folk interacted with the crown or any of the muggle peerage. Only the occasional deranged witch or wizard, like Lord Voldemort, sought any sort of dominion over others. Magical folk tended to be an independent and unruly lot; the truth of which got bore out by the difficulties the Ministry of Magic faced when trying to keep everyone in line with the secrecy statutes. Most of the Ministry's work centered on attempts to control the repercussions of magical misdeeds. Dennis never quite understood how muggles managed to ignore witches and wizards when so much evidence surrounded them.
"Yeah, Mum, all right," he agreed. "So, did Dad say anything last night after I went to bed or this morning before he went to work?"
"He said you're an adult now and get to make up your own mind, and I told him that's a load of tosh," his mother responded.
"Which part? Me being an adult or being able to make up mind own mind?"
"I will not let you bait me into this argument again, Dennis. You might be a wizard and you might be eighteen-years old, but how much real world experience do you have… in either world?"
"How about the part where I got slagged on for the last two years solid, Dad wouldn't talk to me for six months, and my school had to rebuild itself following a war? Did you forget most of my only friends were ghosts and paintings?" He bridled with his questions and felt his appetite vanish under a wave of simmering anger.
"And who's fault is that?" The woman spat.
"Hold on a sec! Are you saying me being gay is my fault and that I wanted everyone to treat me like shite?"
"Language, Dennis. You associate with too many Irish or Scottish or whoever, and they taught you bad language," she upbraided him in a mildly and uniquely British form racism. "And, no, I'm not faulting you for being gay, but you and Colin built quite a reputation for being upstarts and obnoxious long before that came out. How did you think people were going to react when gay got added on top of it all?"
"Still blaming me, Mum!" He half-yelled.
"Watch your tone, young man. Wizard or not, I'll take switch to you if you keep that up," she warned her son. "And you're not taking responsibility for how you behaved at Hogwarts during those first few years. Dennis, you started off by falling out of a boat, and it only got worse from there."
Dennis sat and fumed. His mother, in his estimation, failed to take into account the degree of astonishment and bewilderment both he and Colin experienced upon learning of their wizard status. It made them overly-excitable and insatiably curious. They went beyond accepting their new lot in life and absolutely reveled in it. Dennis collected every letter and picture Colin sent home for two years until he joined his brother at Hogwarts. Once reunited on a daily basis, the Creeveys fed into one another's excesses. As in the muggle world, Colin and Dennis shared an exceptionally tight bond as brothers and, for all intents and purposes, best friends. Dennis' anger gave way to the sense of crushing loneliness and sadness he experienced when he thought too deeply about Colin.
"Dennis?" His mother inquired when the mood at the table shifted.
"Yeah, right. Sorry I'm a wizard, sorry I'm gay, and sorry Colin got killed. Thanks for breakfast," he said and stood.
"Dennis, I didn't mean it like that!"
"Yes, Mum, you did," Dennis said as he walked away from the table toward his room.
He heard his mother try to stifle a sob as he departed without a backward glance. Colin's death so altered the family dynamics as render it dysfunctional. His father came detest wizardry and blamed it for taking his eldest son from him. Dennis could not quite disagree on that point, except Colin violated his parents' wishes and went back to fight in the battle. Neither his father nor mother ever seemed to acknowledge that specific fact. When Dennis got outed at school and he told his parents the truth, his father looked defeated and as if he lost his second son. As he reminded his mother, Duncan Creevey literally did not speak to Dennis for six months. When he finally did say something, the man said he understood Dennis' sexuality could not be faulted on anyone in particular and that they would all need to learn to live with it. It seemed less than accepting to Dennis and rather out of step with the new millennium.
Dennis went to his room and closed the door. After retrieving his notes from the day before, he began to read them over. He managed to puzzle out some of the story behind Thomas Lester with surname unknown. Thomas got murdered in 1761 at the age of thirty-one. Dennis managed to piece that together with the reference to King George III. Another wizard cursed him as he lay dying with the injunction to never speak of or openly reveal what happened on that fateful day. Moreover, Thomas got banished to Hogwarts as well by his murderer and, under the conditions of his curse, could not state his place of origin. However, the ghost managed to reveal he came from a well-to-do family, but not under which terms: muggle or wizard standards. Thus, armed only with a first name and a date of birth, Dennis could not imagine how he would track down information regarding the man.
He flopped back on his bed, stared at the ceiling, and sighed: "I've got to get to a library."
The Creeveys lived on the southern side of St. Alban's in southeast portion in The Camp district. Their house sat close to Highfield Park Drive as it made it easier for his father to commute to Highfield Farms where he helped with milk collection and delivery. Every Tuesday and Thursday Duncan Creevey drove a milk truck delivering fresh milk to homes around southern St. Alban's or the big hauler to the cheese factories. In their early years at Hogwarts, the other students found it fascinating to listen to their stories of growing up in a muggle household, like Harry Potter and Hermione Granger did. However, they did not suffer the same treatment as Harry and neither did they live in the same luxury as Hermione. The Creevey boys came from a rural suburban, lower middle-class life. They did not know want, but the family remained very conscious of money due to his father's somewhat meager income supplemented by their mother's part-time work. Only the graciousness of the wizarding community offering to pay for Colin and Dennis' education allowed them to attend Hogwarts.
That he lived outside of St. Alban's gave Colin an added push to master apparating and disapparating. He tried to extend his range as far as he could. Within six months of gaining permission to translocate via magic, Colin could reach the southside of London without suffering too much apparation sickness. He worried constantly about splinching himself, so he always made certain to clearly focus on his destination and to forcefully execute the spell. Practice, time, and want honed his skill. In his seventh year at Hogwarts, he found he could apparate the third farthest of all the students. Some wondered at his ability, thinking him a liar, but one of his three remaining living friends testified to the truth of his apparating skill. For the first time ever, Dennis drew jealous stares from his fellow students.
"Best go to the Ministry first and see what I can find out there. Maybe they'll have a list of magical libraries," he pondered aloud.
Ten minutes later he filled a small backpack with ink, parchment, quills, and his notes. Dennis also dipped into his small stash of muggle money. Growing up in a muggle family allowed him to smoothly navigate between the two worlds with neither side the wiser. He planned on eating somewhere in London, and several ideas no normal wizard would entertain popped into his head. Another issue entered his mind. His mother already expressed disapproval about investigating the mystery surrounding Thomas Lester, so he concocted a more palatable story. Thus, brimming with ideas and supplies in his backpack, he left his room.
"Mum?" He quietly called to his mother who sat at the dining table reading a newspaper.
"Yes?" She replied without glancing at him.
"I'm heading over to the Ministry of Magic."
"Why's that?"
"Well, if I'm gonna find work in the magic world, I think that might be the best place to start. They may have leads or adverts or someone I can talk to," he smoothly devised a scheme for her benefit.
Jill Creevey's head swiveled to the side, and she stared intently at her son. Dennis prepared for the scrutiny and remained composed. He again dressed in normal shorts, a tee-shirt, socks, and his favorite trainers. His thin, wiry frame made him look a few years younger, but Dennis knew he could take care of himself. Two years of a semi-hostile school environment made him ready.
"Will you be back for dinner?" She asked, and her question indicated she believed him.
"Yeah, I think so. I'll grab lunch in London down in Picadilly…"
"Ooh," his mother squealed and interrupted him. "Remember that Greek bakery over on New Bond Street? Mind picking up a few loaves of that sweet Easter bread they make."
"Sure, I can do that," Dennis answered and held out his hand.
"They can't be that expensive, Dennis."
"I only got a fiver to spend, and that's only going to get me a cheap lunch. If I get the bread, I'll have to eat it for lunch."
"Don't you dare! Hold on."
Minutes later his mother deposited a ten Euro note into his hand. Dennis looked at it in a greedy fashion. His mother tapped him on the shoulder.
"Three loaves, and you can keep the change," she informed him. "If the loaves are smooshed, you're paying me back. Any questions?"
"No, Mum… and thanks. I'll be careful," he responded.
"Don't forget they close around four or five, so you'd best get them right after you have lunch."
"Yes, Mum."
At that point he would agree to just about any condition she set. Scheming did not come easy to Dennis, and he could feel his nerves begin to stretch the longer his mother delayed. However, she seemed satisfied he would do as requested and returned to the dining table. Dennis quickly walked to the middle of the parlor. He waved at his mother once, she smiled at him, and then he began to apparition process.
Dennis thought very clearly about the arrival bay in the Ministry of Magic. Numerous control spells hovered in the area to make certain people did not apparate atop one another and become conjoined. Then Dennis began the conjuration by holding the image in his head and mentally reciting the spell. Magical energies began to swirl in his body. The young man unleashed the stored magic, and his body folded in on itself. It took him no longer than three seconds to complete process that would cause him to feel as if he turned inside out. It also felt like he got stuffed into and pulled through a piece of rubber hose while an errant child twisted it into a knot. Seconds later he arrived in the Ministry. Dennis slightly wobbled.
"Alright, boy get going so others can arrive!" One of the arrival bay attendants snarled at him. The man looked as surly as a mountain troll.
Dennis stepped off the small riser made of dark green marble and strolled toward directory kiosk. A witch sat inside looking as bored as the bay attendant appeared cantankerous. The youngest Creevey visited the Ministry only a few times in the past, and usually accompanied by one of the Hogwarts staff. The place seemed daunting and large, except that people scurried by with a sense of purpose and without fear. A few nodded in greeting to him when he looked their way. Dennis glanced around with amazement. He recalled the photos in The Daily Prophet showing a heavily damaged Ministry after the fall of Voldemort and the battles between aurors and Deatheaters. The Ministry looked fresh and whole. It took a second before he refocused on directory.
"Um, division of labor?" He hesitantly asked the directory board while pressing the tip of his wand to it.
"Internal, external, or Community Services?" It replied in a calm, very Oxfordian female voice.
"I'm looking for work," Dennis flatly stated.
"If you are seeking employment with the Ministry of Magic, please go to the Sentient Creature Resources. If you are looking for assistance with employment searches, please go to the Office of Community Resources and Services."
The board then lit up showing the floor and room number of each division. Dennis performed the remembering charm so his wand would be able to recall the destinations. However, he adamantly did not want to work for the Ministry of Magic, so he began to make his way toward the lifts. Foot traffic ebbed and flowed with mostly silent concentration. A few people chatted as they strolled along, but most appeared to be on business. Dennis aimed for one of the farther lifts and got inside.
"Floor?" A house elf grumbled.
"Five, please. Community Resources," Dennis answered.
Other people entered and requested their floors as well. Dennis slowly got shoved toward the back of the surprisingly large lift interior. It easily offered more than twice the space of a muggle version. Ministry lifts also went forward and backward as well as up and down. Within the magical community, everyone knew Roald Dahl stole the Wonkavator idea from the Ministry of Magic. As a public entity, however, the Ministry could not sue Dahl for infringement or prosecute the man for violation of the secrecy statutes since he offered the work as fiction.
"Hold on," the elf rumbled as he flipped levers. "Oh, there's a heard of black sheep on the fifth floor. Some farmer brought them in while he attends a hearing. Heard their floor is… quite messy right now."
Dennis glanced down at his trainers while several other occupants chuckled. Although not new by any stretch of the imagination, he still did not want sheep dung covering them. Thus, he took the elf's warning to heart. Sheets of paper of various colors folded into a simple yet functional paper airplanes floated above their heads. Dennis heard the story from Professor Sinistra of how the Ministry formerly employed owls, but the mess became overwhelming as the Ministry expanded in size. An employee won a handsome prize for developing the spell that folded paper into planes and sent them flying to their destination. Dennis admired simple yet functional charms like that. It made people's lives easier without being flashy or intrusive.
"Fifth floor!" The elf grunted when the lift came to quick, shuddering halt.
Dennis excused himself and people got out of his way. He stopped just after stepping over the threshold of the lift and gaped in disgust at the floor. Sheep droppings lay everywhere he looked, and he saw more than few puddles of urine. It also smelled. Moreover, Dennis could hear the herd somewhere in the distance. He began to carefully pick a path through the feces minefield as he went in search of the Office of Community Resources and Services.
An hour and half later Dennis gingerly returned to the lift. The herd stampeded through an intersecting hallway while a farmer attempted to corral them. The semi-ginger-haired young man chuckled.
"You should get a trained pig!" He called after the farmer.
"Fack off, ya gob!" The man shot back.
Against all odds, Dennis left the resources office with a job. While speaking with a resource witch, he found an offer in one of the listing books from a sludger. The man paid twenty galleons a week for a single day or two of work. Dennis read the advert over and over. The witch then explained exactly what work a sludger performed. The details proved wholly disgusting and nauseating, but Dennis saw the immediate advantage of working with a person who contained and hauled away all manner of waste, including magicked materials. Dennis got to use the office Wiz-Viz Tuner to speak with the man who went into excessive detail about the expected work. Dennis heard terms he did not understand, and clarifications only made his stomach threaten to revolt. However, the amount of pay and limited amount of work fit perfectly with his nascent plans. He accepted the position, got the address and apparating visuals, arrival times, and departed the office. Furthermore, Dennis learned the Ministry contained an extensive library he could use, so it seemed luck favored him when he decided to go to the Ministry.
Another few hours passed wherein Dennis found himself surrounded by a tower of books. It felt like a particularly grumpy team of house elves took turns with a meat tenderizer hammering his brain. He sat back and stretched and stared at the vaulted ceiling high overhead.
"Dennis?" A familiar voice said.
Dennis swung his head and looked for the source. Three seats down from him he saw a face as familiar as the voice. Fortunately, he did not dread a chance meeting with that person.
"Hi, Laura. What are you doing here?" He in his normal voice when he spotted her.
"I was about to ask you the same thing," she returned with a smile. "Never took you as a library person."
"One of the hazards of sharing a house with Hermione Granger."
They both snickered at the reference. Laura Madley got sorted into Hufflepuff during their first year. Aside from fitting the Hufflepuff characteristics to a tee, Laura also proved to be kind. She never teased Dennis while in school. They never interacted much outside of classes, but Dennis always found her pleasant.
"That's a lot of books. What are studying?" Laura asked as she stood a little to peer at the assembled tomes.
"Eighteenth century wizarding bloodlines. I'm doing some research for Silent Thom," he freely admitted.
"Silent Thom? Why?" She inquired.
"That's just it: the silent part. Why is he so silent? What happened to him? Ever notice how he just stands on the cliffs of Hogwarts and looks out over the lake like he's trying to find something?" Dennis rhetorically asked.
"You always did get on well with the ghosts at school. Are you doing this as a favor for him?"
He nodded.
"People got you wrong, Dennis. Used to make me mad the way Pritchard, Quirke, and Peakes treated you. Wasn't right and wasn't fair. You never hurt a soul," his former schoolmate stated in a heated fashion.
"Thanks, Laura. That means a lot to me," Dennis politely told her, except he wondered why she did not step forward to defend him during their school days.
"If they would've left you and Ackerly alone, you two might've been happy."
Dennis winced at the mention of Stewart Ackerly. After Dennis got outed, a few other students did as well. Most used him as a flame shield to take the heat. Stewart came in search of him just after they returned from holidays in their sixth year. For two months they grew very close and enjoyed a warm, even loving, relationship. Dennis fell very much in love with Stewart. It all came crashing down when several of their classmates discovered the true depth of their relationship and began to treat Stewart as they did Dennis. It drove Stewart away, and he abruptly ended their affair after nine glorious weeks. It left Dennis somewhat heartbroken and even more alone. The Ravenclaws supported their own. The Gryffindors failed to look after Dennis. In some respects, Dennis' mother correctly pointed out his past influencing his future in that regard.
"Yeah, Stew," he sighed.
"Oh, Dennis! I'm sorry…"
"No, it's okay. It's in the past. I'm over it," he lied to spare her feelings.
They sat in awkward silence for half a minute and looked everywhere else but at each other. While pretty in her own way, Dennis knew Laura never seriously dated anyone at school. Despite the randy subcurrent that ran through sixth and seventh years, the young woman resisted it. It became apparent to Dennis he needed to break the sudden chill. He sat upright in his chair.
"What are you researching?" Dennis asked her.
"Just a school in Canada. They offer post-secondary education. My parents want me to go there, so I am finding out what it's like," Laura explained.
"So, you know you're going?"
She nodded.
"Huh, college of magic. How'd you find out about it?"
From there they chatted about what Laura would do come the fall. She inquired about Dennis' plans, and he honestly admitted he did not know. He also explained how he did not want to work for Ministry, and he got an odd look from his former schoolmate. It did not take long to explain that he would likely run into several of his former tormentors. Laura agreed.
"So… this whole Silent Thom thing?" She asked again.
"Something to do. Gets me out and about. Never traveled much after we started at Hogwarts, and this seemed like a good way to go about it," he told her part of his real plan.
"That's makes sense. Decent idea, Dennis. And wouldn't it be nice if you could help him? It always seemed to me the ghosts live a sad life at the castle. After a while all they got is each other. You'd think it'd get dull and boring after a while."
"'Cept for Peeves. He loves being a poltergeist!"
All around the rather enormous library people bent to their various tasks, and no one seemed bothered by their conversation. It felt very different to Dennis to speak to a classmate with the knowledge they no longer shared a similar experience. They would head off in different directions and lead very different lives. While they only truly shared Hogwarts between them, it gave Dennis a forlorn feeling knowing he would not return to a familiar environment, even though he desperately wanted to escape the place not even two weeks before. The chat between Laura and him quickly became halting as they ran out of topics to discuss.
"Dennis?" Laura said his name and hinted at another question to follow.
"Hmm?" Dennis rejoined.
"Will you let me know what you end up doing for Silent Thom?" His former schoolmate requested. "I mean, I know there's no reason for you to give me an update…"
"Yeah, I can do that," he interjected. "Where would I send the message?"
"Depends on when you send it. Do you have a Wiz-Viz?"
"Not yet. Got a job for the summer, so maybe I can afford to get one in a couple of weeks. My parents wouldn't even know how to find one even if I told them everything."
Laura gave him a confuse look.
"My folks are muggle, remember?"
Laura shook her head and said: "That's right. I always forget you and your brother came from a muggle family. Hogwarts must've seemed really weird to you at first."
"Why do you think we act like such twits half the time?"
Laura grinned at this response.
"It's true," he offered.
"Can I tell you something about how people viewed you two?" She requested, and Dennis nodded. "People were kind of jealous of you and Colin. It was all so new to both of you, and everything made you so excited. For the rest of us… it was just more of the same. We were jealous 'cause we didn't have the same sense of excitement."
Dennis sat up even straighter and leaned closer to Laura as he said: "How can you not love magic every second of every day? How can it ever be more of the same? It's magic, Laura, and not everyone gets to use it. Look at all the muggles. I get to face my parents every day now and we all realize I have something they never will. Isn't that worth getting excited about all the time?"
Laura sat back in her chair with a sigh. She gazed at him. The long, highly polished wooden table stood between them. The softly glowing lights, and not electric ones, reflected from the surface. No muggle library ever looked like that, especially as paper airplanes flew silently through the air without aid of a single breeze. People dressed in a wide assortment of clothes ranging from the Victorian era to modern day lent the cavernous room an additional other-worldly quality. Dennis could see Laura did not notice any of it.
"I think that's why I'm going to Canada to study. It won't be like Hogwarts at all. Maybe I'll get to experience what you and Colin did every single day," she informed him.
A thought struck Dennis that went straight to the core. It caused him to stiffen as he considered the ramifications of the Creevey history with magic. He eyed Laura, and she returned the look.
"A lot of people died fighting Voldemort for a lot of different reasons. Colin… my brother died defending something he really, really loved. I miss him every day, Laura, 'cause I don't have anyone to share that… wonder with anymore. He was my best friend," Dennis spoke as two tears slid down his face.
"We all knew that. Even the Patil sisters or the Merchant twins weren't as close as you and Colin. People were jealous about that, too. That first year back after the war, it was so hard to look at you, Dennis. When people found out you're gay, it gave them something else to focus on instead of all the pain you suffered."
"That is fucked up," Dennis ground the words through his teeth.
"It is, but… not an excuse, but children don't know how to deal with something that intense," she agreed and tried to excuse despite her protestation otherwise.
"Try living it."
"We all lost someone we cared about. You know that, right?"
"Then it makes what you told me even worse. I didn't get any sympathy. I got ignored 'til I got outed. How is that even fair?"
Laura looked away from him.
"Listen," Dennis said after a minute of silence. "I don't want to get into old fights I don't really care about anymore. I… I guess I need to move on from a lot of it. That's why I won't work for the Ministry. It's why I'm trying to help Thomas. I need something positive. You know?"
"Yes, I do, Dennis. I think that's maybe why I'm going to Canada. Something different… exciting… away from all… this past stuff. I'm tired of everyone still talking about the war. It's like they don't want stop fighting it," she answered him.
"'Cause they're afraid Voldemort might be alive. He fooled 'em before."
"Do you think he's dead?"
"Yeah. Too many people saw him die. His followers fell apart pretty fast. He's gone. I'm certain of that."
It seemed a coda for their conversation. It dwindled following Dennis' pronouncement. Fifteen minutes later Laura packed up her belongings and said she needed to go check out some of the books. Dennis nodded and smiled at her. While Laura walked away with several heavy tomes, he wondered if he would ever see Laura Madley ever again. Dennis doubted it. Then his eyes returned to his own books.
"Okay," he said to a large volume containing a listing of notable and pure-blood families during the seventeenth and eighteen centuries. He touched the tip of his wand to the cover of the book. "Right. Dinumero Thomas!"
A good eighth of the book pages began to shine.
"That many, huh? Narrow the parameters like Professor Flitwick used to say. Alright. Um… pernumero Thomas!"
The number 347 hovered briefly over the tip of his want.
In the middle of his fifth year, Dennis started taking his Latin lessons with greater seriousness. Words mattered when practicing the craft, and Latin aided in the potency of the craft. He came to understand magic flowed in a two specific veins: common magic people made up on the spot, and high magic that got passed down from seeming time immemorial. Common magic tended to be weaker and very idiosyncratic to the caster. High magic required a concerted effort and practice. As a result, the spells tended to be far more powerful. Other types of magic existed, such as the variety employed by centaurs, goblins, and house elves. Racially based magic could not be learned outside of the race. Several branches of high magic only humans could access, and part of the reason lay in the languages of the human species. At the moment, Dennis walked a tricky line between the common and the high. He employed high magic methods to achieve somewhat common objectives.
"Pernumero Thomas Lester!" He incanted.
The number 26 floated in the air above his wand tip for about seven seconds before disappearing.
Dennis nodded and said: "Better, but where are the names in this book?"
He grabbed a quill and a scrap of paper. After dipping the nib in ink, the young man plied his mind to the problem. Dennis wanted a more permanent spell since what he desired might be useful in the future. As taught by all his instructors that included ghosts and paintings of people, he began to parse his problem. He needed to not only locate specific references, but he also wanted to quickly access the pages. Memory of a scrying spell returned to him. Of all teachers who touched on the subject, Professor Trelawny turned out to be the expert at scrying. It seemed to be one the few types of magic she could command with accurate and real results. Dennis wracked his brain to remember the syntax of the spell and the wand motion. He then began to scribble on the scrap of paper.
"Simple and direct. Simple and direct," Dennis repeatedly muttered as he sketched out the somatic and verbal elements. "Intent. Simple and direct with intent."
Ten minutes later Dennis examined his progress. It surprised him when, on review, the spell appeared competent. It seemed his original effort needed tweaking. He added two words and charted the wand movements to aid in concentration and focusing the magical forces at his command. It seemed longer than necessary, but he could not concoct a shorter version. Dennis also rated the level of force he would need to apply, and scored it as a two on a scale of ten. Too much force and he feared setting the book aflame. Memories of Séamus Finnigan's uncanny ability to set anything alight, even causing items to explode, served as a warning. Dennis felt confident it would take a lot more force to get his spell to ignite an object.
The tip of his wand hung above the book cover. He then started to make a spiral motion while lifting his wand upward. Dennis chanted: "Illuminare page pernumero Thomas Lester!"
Not only did a twinkling list of the names hover in the air, including page numbers, but the pages also glowed inside the book. Dennis uttered the duplication spell every witch and wizard learned in their first year at school. The list appeared on a square of parchment he made ready. A small sense of accomplishment washed over him.
"Magic is the best," he happily mumbled.
Unfortunately for him, Dennis could not think of a spell that would deposit the knowledge found in the book into his head. Legend at Hogwarts spoke of student who tried to create and master just such a spell. The tale said it ended in disaster and complete insanity for the student who suddenly found all she or he could remember came straight from the book the person wanted to memorize. The spell apparently overrode all previous memories. The loss of all the personal memories, only to be replaced by the narrative of a book, drove the student mad. Whether apocryphal or true, the story served to highlight several key concepts of magic. First and foremost, untrained experiments could and would lead to insanity and quite possibly death. The Daily Prophet and The Quibbler often ran stories of witches and wizards who came to a lurid end because of unsafe experimentation. Thus, Dennis remembered to respect his craft and to avoid reaching too far beyond his current limits.
"Time to read," Dennis muttered in a less happy manner.
Dennis first did a survey of the surnames attached to Thomas Lester. The list got winnowed to nine specific lines: three of whom belonged to the Sacred Twenty-Eight, two that continued to present day of which both included muggle nobility, two that got diluted to muggle status, and two lines that went extinct. Dennis hauled out his notes from the conversation with Thomas. Nothing he said or could answer indicated he belonged to a pure-blood family, and pure-bloods never failed to mention their status. It left him with six possibilities. Given the near three-hundred and fifty name instances of Thomas Lester he originally encountered, Dennis felt rather pleased he managed to whittle the number to a very manageable number.
A rumbling stomach altered the working conditions. Hunger assailed Dennis, and he gave into the need. Moreover, he read as much from his first source book as would likely yield information. His research became further narrowed to two families that both reported the loss of a male heir in the 1760s, both of whom carried the name Thomas Lester North. Moreover, the families looked to be cousins by blood, marriage, and both. The name became an honorific for both sides. Unfortunately, Dennis could not locate specific dates of when the two male heirs died, and the dates of birth appeared estimated. Both seemed uncharacteristically mysterious, but still in keeping with magical histories.
"Food," Dennis huffed while closing the tome before him.
Dennis felt guilty for not putting the books back on the shelves, but magical libraries operated differently from the muggle counterparts. Most of the permanent reference books that remained in the library at all times got fitted with a self-shelving spell. Should a book remain untouched for over an hour, it would rise and return to its holding shelf. Books to be loaned did not receive the spell. Dennis heard from Madam Pince, the Hogwarts librarian, that windows in homes got broken by the insistence of books trying to shelve themselves. Dennis only used permanent reference materials, so he left the books sitting on the table as he packed his equipment and notes before heading out.
Downtown London always excited Dennis long before he learned of his wizard status. Part of him loved the manic push and rush of the people as they went about their business. He departed the Ministry through the disguised exit, and got his bearings. The sound of autos and lorries rumbling along the streets mixed with music played from speakers and countless voices of people. The wild cacophony became the echoing heartbeat of a city alive and well. Dennis found it further entertaining because most everyone he passed did not know a wizard walked among them. The secret thrill built in him until he nearly started to jog down the streets. He heard many magical folk complain in the past about the secrecy statutes, but Dennis privately loved it. On the rare occasion when he spotted one of his kind, it made him feel like a spy on a mission. It never dawned on him his early life as a supposed muggle shaped his frame of reference.
After purchasing three loaves of bread as requested by his mother, Dennis head back to Piccadilly Circus to find lunch. He recalled the smell of a red curry dish from earlier, and he wended his way toward it. The Indian established announced itself with aromas of biryani, butter chicken, masala, and, of course, curry. Dennis drifted inside the neat, small restaurant. A quick glance at the menu board told him his mother did him an enormous favor by letting him keep the change from the bread purchase. He got seated at a small table and began ordering without once looking at the menu. The waitress smirked as she nodded during his recitation. She promised him tea within minutes and his lunch in only a few more. Dennis sat happy with the results of his day.
"Thomas Lester North or Thomas Lester North," Dennis mumbled in consternation around his naan and curry fifteen minutes later. "Does he look like he comes from Essex or the East Midlands? Hard to say what he sounded like. Couldn't tell his accent."
All of his notes did little to settle the matter. Dennis tried to ask Thomas from whence he hailed, but the curse kept him from divulging the information. Several attempts to get around the impediment did not result in any success. It took some time to even find out Thomas originated nowhere near Hogwarts. The fact he stood and faced the southeast on the castle premonitory did not help since both the East Midland and Essex lay southeast of Hogwarts.
"I wonder if the bloke who snuffed him did something to the records," Dennis speculated before shoveling another heap of curry and rise on naan into his mouth.
While chewing Dennis realized he assumed a man killed Thomas Lester. As with all other information surrounding Thomas' death, the ghost could not supply specifics regarding exactly when he got killed, how he got killed, who killed him, where he got killed or buried, (although Thomas indirectly said his banishment to Hogwarts precluded that fact), the curse that banished him, or any other detail to aid in piecing together the crime. Then, the most important question erupted in Dennis' head: why did someone kill Thomas Lester?
"Wait a second," he whispered after swallowing. "What if Thomas is the bad guy in all of this? What if he deserved what happened to him?"
The notion became troubling. Dennis started to understand he needed to step back and take a neutral view of the issue. He could not act under the assumption Thomas needed to be avenged. Dennis needed to find out the truth before he enacted any other plan.