Deacon Demented

The hottest day of the summer was about to come to a close and a silence lay over the large, square houses of Privet Drive.

Cars that normally gleamed were left dusty in their drives and lawns that were once emerald green and now were parched and yellowing from the immense heat, due to the usage of hosepipes being banned because of drought.

Being deprived of their usual car washing and lawn mowing pursuits, the inhabitants of Privet Drive retreated into the shade of their cool houses, windows wide open in the hope of tempting a breeze that wasn't there to cool them down.

The only person that was outdoors was a fifteen year old boy who lay flat on his back in a flower bed outside of Number Four.

He was a skinny, black haired boy who had that unhealthy look of someone who grew a lot in a short space of time, having experienced a growth spurt. His jeans were torn and dirty and his grey long sleeve henley shirt was baggy and loose with a sweat stain on his chest. The soles of his trainers were peeling away from the uppers.

Arthur Pendergast's appearance didn't exactly endear him to the neighbours, being the kind of people who thought that scruffiness should be punishable by law. But as he lay there behind a large hydrangea bush this particular evening, he was invisible to passers by. The only way he could be spotted was if his Uncle Nicholas or Aunt Patty stuck their heads out from the living room window and looked straight down into the flowerbed below.

Arthur was partly glad that he hid here. Because despite not finding the hot, hard earth comfortable to lie on, he didn't have anyone that wasn't the Dentleys glaring at him, grinding their teeth so loudly that he couldn't hear the news, or shoot nasty questions at him, which happened every time he sat in the living room to watch television with his relatives.

Suddenly, Nicholas, his uncle, spoke.

"I'm worried about Arthur, Patty. He's been acting distant for a while now."

"I know." Aunt Patty replied, sounding concerned. "But considering what he went through and what he revealed to us, can you blame him?"

The two fell silent. Arthur listened to a jingle about Fruit 'n' Bran breakfast cereal while watching Mrs Figg, a batty cat loving old woman from Wisteria Walk, which was near Privet Drive, amble slowly past. She frowned and muttered to herself.

Arthur was glad to be behind the bush, this was due to the fact that Mrs Figg had recently taken to asking him round for tea whenever she'd see him in the street. And also because he suspected her of spying on him for certain reasons. She had just rounded a corner and vanished from view right before Uncle Nicholas' voice spoke through the window again.

"Shouldn't Deacon be back by now?"

"He should." Aunt Patty said, still sounding concerned. "I just hope he gets back shortly. I hate it whenever he's been out for too long."

Arthur felt the same worry. Lately, Deacon, his cousin, has been acting a bit out of character. His aunt and uncle told him that he's been like this for a few months before he came back to stay with them for the summer. He's been staying out later than he normally does, when asked where he's been, he just gives vague answers and whenever Arthur asks him what he's been doing, he just snaps at him.

The opening notes of the music that heralded the seven o'clock news reached Arthur's ears and his stomach turned over. Perhaps tonight would be the night after a whole month of waiting.

"Record numbers of stranded holidaymakers fill airports as the Spanish baggage handlers' strike reaches its second week -"

"I honestly wouldn't be surprised if they end up having a siesta or something." Uncle Nicholas said over the end of the newsreader's sentence.

Arthur, meanwhile, had his stomach unclench. If anything of real significance happened, it would always be the first thing brought up in the news; death and destruction would be way more important than stranded holidaymakers.

He let out an audible long slow breath, staring up at the brilliant blue sky. Every day, the summer has been the same routine: the feeling of tension, expectation, temporary relief and then the mounting tension once more. It would grow insistent all the time, it made Arthur question why nothing happened yet, though he was thinking of a theory as to why.

He kept listening, just in case there was a small clue, one that a Muggle wouldn't recognise, like an unexplained disappearance or a strange accident, yet the baggage handlers' strike was followed by news of the drought going on in the Southeast, and then about a helicopter that almost crashed in a field in Surrey, followed by the divorce of a famous actress from her famous husband, something that Arthur didn't care about.

Arthur closed his eyes against the blazing evening sky as the newsreader continued on. " - and finally, Bungy the budgie has found a novel way of keeping cool this summer. Bungy, who lives at the Five Feathers in Barnsley, has learned to water ski! Dorkins went to find out more."

Arthur opened his eyes, if they had reached water skiing, then there's nothing else that's worth hearing. He rolled onto his front and raised himself to his knees and elbows when something happened.

There was a loud, echoing crack that broke the sleepy silence like a gunshot. It made a cat streak out from under a parked car, shooting out of sight. Then there were his relatives, who gasped and shouted in shock.

This made Arthur jump to his feet as he pulled from the waistband of his jeans a wooden wand that had what looked like a flame at the end like he was unsheathing a sword.

"Arthur, put that away!" Uncle Nicholas warned Arthur when Arthur fully stood.

Arthur looked through the window to see his aunt and uncle. Nicholas still retained his slim figure, having once been portly. His brown hair was also cut to be as short as possible and his facial hair was shaved, making him look like a different person entirely. Patty was a woman with a full figure with large hips. She had the same green eyes as Arthur and her red hair wasn't long anymore, now having been made into a pixie cut.

Arthur hesitantly did as he was told as he looked around, finding no sign of what caused that loud, cracking noise, though it was loud enough that several faces peered through various nearby windows.

When all the curious neighbours all disappeared from their windows, especially the occupant of Number Seven, who was opposite the Dentleys, Nicholas walked up the window to talk to Arthur.

"Still listening to the news?"

"Yeah." Arthur said, his voice blank and distant. "Still nothing odd going on."

"Perhaps that's the point." Nicholas said. "Based on what you said, he wouldn't want to attract attention."

"Yeah, that's a fair point." Arthur shrugged, realising that his uncle had a point.

"Still not getting much from your friends?" Nicholas then asked.

"Nothing." Arthur spat bitterly, shocking Nicholas, who never saw him like this.

"Arthur? Could you please go and find Deacon? I'd feel comfortable knowing he'd be back home." Patty then requested, knowing that Arthur can take care of himself and know where to find Deacon.

"Alright." He nodded and crossed the front lawn and stepped over the low garden wall, striding off up the street.

He knew that he was making the Dentleys concerned with his behaviour as of late, but if they experienced what he did over a month ago in June themselves, they'd be the same as him.

Arthur knew for sure that the cracking noise was someone Apparating or Disapparating. It was the sound that Dobby the house elf made whenever he vanished into thin air. He didn't think it was Dobby, though. It was most likely someone else to spy on and keep an eye on Arthur, something he felt resentful about.

He continued walking, keeping his eyes out, both for his cousin and for anyone that might be following him. He was heading to his favourite haunts.

Arthur felt that familiar dull, sinking sensation before the feeling of hopeless resentment and bitterness that he felt all summer came over him again.

Tomorrow morning, he'd wake up by the alarm at five in the morning to pay the owl that delivered the Daily Prophet, but what's the point now? He'd just glance at the front page and throw it aside, like he did every time. He'd actually care if the idiots that ran the paper finally realised that Voldemort had come back.

But he knew that Voldemort would be smart to not out himself yet, especially with a stupid Minister for Magic in charge.

If Arthur was lucky, there would be owls carrying letters from his friend David, Chrys and Mike, though expectations would be dashed of them bringing any news.

We can't say much about, well, anything. We've been told to not say anything significant in case our letters were astray. We've been busy but I can't go into detail. There's a lot going on, we'll tell you when we see you….

When would they see him? No one even told him a precise date, which irked him, like they didn't even bother saying. Chrys once wrote We'll be seeing you very soon in his birthday card, but that was so vague that he felt like he was being left out of everything.

Based on the vague hints in their letters, it was clear that David, Chrys and Mike were all in the same place. He imagined them all having fun, most likely at Merlon Manor, where David and his family lived as he was stuck here at Privet Drive. This made his feel so betrayed and hurt that he just gave away the three boxes of Honeydukes chocolates to the Dentleys, not even wanting a piece of it.

What were they so busy with? Arthur should be busy, he's proven time and time again that he's just as if not more capable than them. It's like they forgot what he had done. He was the one who entered that graveyard and watched Cedric Diggory being murdered, being tied to a tombstone and nearly got himself killed.

Arthur instantly regretted bringing the graveyard up, because it was bad enough to be haunted by it in his nightmares, he didn't want to dwell on it while he was awake.

He turned a corner into Magnolia Crescent when he thought of his godfather. Sirius seemed to be the only one that understood how Arthur felt. His letters were just as empty of any news like David, Chrys and Mike's, but they'd at least contain words of caution and consultation instead of writing hints.

I know this must be frustrating for you…. Keep your nose clean and everything will be okay. Be careful and don't do anything rash….

As Arthur crossed Magnolia Crescent and turned into Magnolia Road, heading towards the darkening play park, he ultimately did as Sirius advised, being good despite being angry for being left out and isolated for so long.

It was also very jarring to be told not to be rash by someone who served twelve years in the wizard prison, Azkaban, escaped and attempted the murder that he was convicted for in the first place before going on the run with a stolen Hippogriff.

Arthur vaulted over the locked park gate, setting across the parched grass. The park was just as empty as the surrounding streets. Upon reaching the swings, he sank into one of them and coiled one arm around the chain, staring bitterly at the ground.

He now thought about how even at nights when he's asleep, he'd be restless and disturbed. This was due to the fact that even when he escaped the terrible nightmares about Cedric, he'd have rather unsettling dreams of long dark tiled corridors that all finished in dead ends and locked doors.

Often, his old scar on his forehead would prickle uncomfortably. He was so sure that David, Chrys, Mike and Sirius wouldn't find it interesting anymore. In the past, his lightning bolt scar would hurt whenever Voldemort was close or warned him that he was getting stronger again, but because Voldemort is now back, they'd just say that it was regular irritation and there wasn't anything to worry about.

The thought of them being ungrateful irked Arthur so much that he now saw red in the corner of his eyes and wanted so much to yell in pure fury. If it wasn't for Arthur, they wouldn't know that Voldemort was back! And his reward for this was to be stuck at Little Whinging for four weeks, truly cut off from the wizarding world where he belonged, reduced to endure the blazing summer heat.

He was now growing bitterness towards Dumbledore for forgetting him so easily, just as he was bitter about David, Chrys and Mike getting together without inviting him along. And he was also pretty much getting sick and tired of his godfather constantly telling him to sit tight and be a good boy.

All these thoughts just whirled around in his head as a velvety night fell all around him, the air now full of the smell of warm, dry grass, the only sound being the low grumble of nearby traffic on the road beyond the park railings.

Arthur didn't know how long he sat there on the swing before he heard footsteps nearby, making him look up.

The street lamps from the roads cast a misty glow that was strong enough to silhouette two people who made their way across the park.

When they got into a spot where it was brighter, Arthur could see that it was Deacon and a boy that Arthur never saw before.

Deacon changed a bit. While still being taller than Arthur, even though he was a year younger, and having those blue eyes, he now had a slightly muscular build on his body and his brown hair grew out a bit.

This was due to him being a part of his high school's football team. All the training and the new diet he's been on made him go through this physical change.

The boy that Deacon walked with seemed to be the same age as him, had a slim build and had short blonde hair.

As they were now at the railings, not having spotted Arthur, they stopped, held hands, talked for a bit and then, much to Arthur's surprise, Deacon leaned in and kissed the boy on the lips.

So that was why Deacon has been acting out of character. He has a boyfriend he's been hanging with. It made Arthur remember the first day of the summer when, after arriving back at Privet Drive, he revealed to the Dentleys that he learned during Christmas that he was gay, and had a crush on a boy at school that he didn't know until then.

He was beyond scared to tell them, fearing they'd be disgusted towards him, but he was shocked to see that not only did they have no problem with it, but that his aunt and uncle actually knew for a while. It was the only bright spot of the summer, being accepted for his sexuality. But he also remembered the sombre look on Deacon's face for a second that day.

As Deacon and his boyfriend parted ways, Arthur got up and followed after Deacon, feeling a bit bad that he stopped looking for him, but at least he found him.

They went down Magnolia Road, which, like Privet Drive, was full of large, square houses with perfectly manicured lawns, all being owned by large, square owners that drove cars that looked alike.

There was something about Little Whinging at night that Arthur liked, with the curtained windows making patches of jewel bright colour in the darkness. He could run without hearing disapproving mutters about his 'delinquent' appearance as he passed the houses.

He walked quickly so that he could still see his cousin, who was at the entrance to Magnolia Crescent.

"Hey, Deacon!" He called out as he just about reached him.

Deacon turned, a bit surprised to see him.

"Arthur? What are you doing here?" He said, looking and sounding a bit concerned.

"Aunt Patty asked me to find you." Arthur replied.

"Oh, right. I just realised how late it is, come on."

The two fell into step beside each other as they walked.

"So… who's the secret boyfriend?"

Arthur's question made Deacon look at Arthur beyond shocked and even a bit scared.

"How did you know?" He asked, raising his voice before quieting himself.

"I saw you two. And the kiss." Arthur said, being blunt about what he saw. Deacon now looked a bit pained.

"Deacon, what's wrong? Don't tell me you and he aren't on good terms."

"No! We're great together. His name's Kian. It's just… I'm scared of what my parents will think."

"Deacon, if they can accept me being gay, then they can accept you being gay too." Arthur tried to assure him.

"I'm actually not gay. I'm attracted to both boys and girls. It's just that I happen to be with Kian right now." Deacon corrected and confessed. "And besides, my parents can accept you being gay because you're their nephew. I'm their son, they'll probably hate me for liking boys as well."

"Whoa…" Arthur said, grasping his shoulder to stop him and turn him to face him.

"Your parents knew I was gay for some time and they never treated me any different, regardless. And despite being their nephew, they treat me like a second son. Just tell them when you can. They'll still treat you the same as they have all these years."

This moment was giving Arthur a chance to focus on other matters that weren't about the wizarding world, now helping his cousin over something that he can relate to when he first realised that he was gay.

Deacon's eyes were watering slightly before he nodded.

"You're right. I'll… I'll tell them when I'm ready. Thanks, Arthur."

Arthur patted his shoulder before they continued walking back to Privet Drive.

They turned right down the narrow alleyway which formed a shortcut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. It was empty and now much darker than the streets it linked due to there being no street lamps. And their footsteps were muffled between garage walls on one side and a high fence on the other.

"I noticed that you're carrying that around." Deacon pointed out Arthur's wand. "I thought you'd get in trouble for using it outside of your school."

"I just don't like going anywhere without it. Just in case trouble's coming." Arthur replied.

The two were silent for a bit until Deacon decided to bring up a certain subject.

"I heard you last night." He said. "When you were in bed."

This made them stop once more as Arthur breathed heavily.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked. A cold feeling was forming in his stomach. He revisited the graveyard last night in his dreams.

"I heard you talk in your sleep. You kept mentioning a name. Cedric. Who is he?"

"He's… he's… he's the one that was killed. The one I mentioned." Arthur replied, struggling to say the words as he pulled his wand out, squeezing it tightly.

"Oh…." Deacon said, regretting asking.

The two would've continued on except for the fact that suddenly it started getting cold. So cold that their breaths were visible.

The star strewn indigo sky was now pitch black and lightless, the stars, the moon and misty street lamps at either end of the alley were gone. Even the distant rumble of cars and the whisper of trees were gone.

The two were now surrounded by absolute, impenetrable, silent darkness, like some giant hand had dropped a thick, icy mantle over the whole alleyway, blinding them.

Arthur instantly knew what was going on, while Deacon was starting to freak out.

"What's going on?"

"Be quiet and don't move!"

They stood as still as statues, both turning to look left and right. The cold became so intense that they were both shivering and goosebumps formed all over their bodies.

It was impossible… they couldn't be here… not in Little Whinging.

Arthur strained his ears, trying to hear them before he could see them.

"Can't we just go back home?" Deacon asked, sounding scared.

"We can't, they'll just follow us." Arthur shook his head.

"Who will follow us?"

"SHH!"

He heard it, in the alleyway nearby. The drawing of long, hoarse, rattling breaths. Arthur felt the biggest jolt of dread in a long while as he stood trembling in the freezing air.

"Screw it!"

"DEACON, NO!"

Deacon bolted for it, running into Arthur, making him fall on his back and drop his wand.

"YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!" Arthur yelled as he searched blindingly in the dark for his wand, hearing his cousin hitting the alley fence, stumbling.

Then there was a horrible scream and Deacon's footsteps stopped. At that moment, Arthur felt a chill behind him, meaning that there's two of them.

"DEACON, FORCE YOUR MOUTH SHUT! NO MATTER WHAT KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!" Arthur shouted as he continued looking for his wand.

"Bloody hell! Lumos!"

To his relief, in desperation for light to help his search for his wand, light flared inches from his right hand, meaning the wand tip had ignited. Arthur snatched it up instantly and scrambled to his feet, turning around.

His stomach dropped.

There was a towering, hooded figure that glided smoothly towards him, hovering over the ground with no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it came.

Arthur tried to think of something happy and it came when he realised that if he didn't fend the Dementors off, he'll never see his friends again, and may never tell Mike how he feels about him.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A large silver lion erupted from the tip of his wand, charging right at the Dementor right where the heart would be in a human, making it be thrown backwards, weightless as darkness. As the lion charged, the Dementor swooped away, bat-like and defeated.

"THIS WAY!" Arthur shouted at the lion. He wheeled around and sprinted down the alleyway, holding his lit wand aloft. "DEACON!"

He had run a dozen steps when he reached them: Deacon was curled up on the ground, his arms covering his face. There was a second Dementor crouching low over him, gripping his wrists in its slimy hands, prising them slowly, almost lovingly apart. It then lowered its hooded head towards Deacon's.

Arthur was horrified because the Dementor was about to kiss him.

"GET IT!" Arthur bellowed out. Then with a rushing, roaring sound, the silver lion that he had conjured sprinted past him.

The Dementor's eyeless face was just barely an inch from Deacon's when the lion hit it, now thrown up in the air and soared away like its fellow, absorbed into the darkness. The lion entered to the end of the alleyway and dissolved into silver mist.

The moon, stars and street lamps all burst back to life and a warm breeze swept the alleyway.

The trees rustled in neighbouring gardens and the rumble of cars in Magnolia Crescent filled the air again.

Arthur instantly rushed over to Deacon, his shirt now sticking to him, being drenched in sweat.

He was just too shocked. Dementors appeared in Little Whinging.

Arthur reached Deacon, who was still curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. He bent down to try and get him up when he heard loud, running footsteps behind him.

On instinct, he raised his wand and stood back up, spinning on his heel to face who it was.

Mrs Figg, their batty old neighbour was panting into sight. Her grizzled grey escaping out from its hairnet, a clanking string shopping bag swung from her wrist and her feet were partly out of her tartan carpet slippers.

"Sent by Dumbledore to keep an eye on me?" Arthur spat at her, remembering hearing the name Arabella Figg from Dumbledore back in June. He just simply connected the dots.

"Yes. And don't put that wand away, there might be more of them around." She said, looking absolutely furious. "Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"

Turns out that the break I needed was really short, just a whole evening and a morning to relax.

Anyway, here we are with what will be Arthur's most difficult year. Side note, this story may take a while to complete, not just because this is the longest book in the series, but it's also my least favourite book in the series. So I'm not as excited or as pumped as the previous entries in this series.