Dennis Creevey (dmc_squirt) wrote in confringorpg, @ 2010-03-27 22:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: dennis creevey, character: ernie macmillian |
Who: Dennis and Ernie
What: Running into each other
When: Backdated to before Colin's bloody journal entry
Where: A book store.
Why: Because I have icoooons!
Rating: Low.
Status: Complete, unless Ernie has something else to say?
Ernie: Spring was come to England at last, though one could hardly tell it in Stokesley and the surrounding areas. The only signs of the changing season were the appearance of heather blossoms on the moors and the return of a number of bird species. Regardless, any shift at all in the weather was welcome after a seemingly endless winter and colder-than-usual nights. Unfortunately, the temperature hadn't risen much and a sea fret was blowing in off the coast, leaving the town blanketed in a thick mist. Ernie bundled his coat tighter around himself and half-jogged across the Leven and into the Market Plain. He wasn't the only one out, though it was early still. There was work that needed to be done before the shop opened for the day or else he'd still have likely been abed. The last few weeks had been almost disturbingly quiet, with no visitors and no real news from anyone. Some days it felt as though he'd stepped into a separate dimension, but living in the muggle world always seemed to produce that effect. Ernie thought he should have been accustomed to it by now. After all, he'd been on his own going on three years. Half the people he knew were either in prison, in hiding, or trying to keep their heads down. It wasn't easy.
Libellus, the tiny bookstore where he worked, was down an alley lined with such places: a bit dingy, out of the way, and absolute gems for those who knew how to find them. For instance, the shop carried first editions of Chaucer, Proust, and Monmouth (of all things). Its prized possessions were two illuminated manuscripts, kept under glass and lock and key. People wandered in from all walks of life, all over the world. Honestly, Ernie loved working there. It was a bit dull sometimes, but when he wasn't busy, he was allowed to spend his time reading. The owner was an eclectic old lord or marquess, Ernie never could quite remember the exact title, who never set foot inside the store but was friendly and free-thinking and paid a lot more than the job deserved.
Ducking inside, Ernie locked the door behind himself. He didn't want any undesirables wandering in while he was in the storage room. Once he had the coffee going, he began cataloging and stocking a shipment of books from an estate sale he'd been to the week prior. There were some treasures included and some more popular works - better to cater to everyone that way - and he looked forward to checking a few of them out himself. An hour and a half passed in relative silence, broken only by Ernie occasionally humming the bridge of a song as he worked. The sun rose and burnt off most of the fog and soon enough it was time to open the door. He quickly grabbed a tray of cookies from the small kitchenette in back and set them out by the coffee maker. After unlocking the door, he settled himself behind the counter with a T.H. White novel.
Dennis: Dennis had spent almost a whole week in Ireland, learning the few things that he could in that time, with Charlie and Hestia. He liked them, a lot, and found that he didn't mind trusting them. Hestia had been teaching him defense and attack spells all week and hadn't once turned on him. Neither Charlie or Hestia seemed to grow tired of his constant questioning and that was always a bonus when looking for someone to rely on. At least in Dennis' eyes it was. But, almost a week had passed there, and no matter how nice and comfortable the bed was, or how many homemade meals they made him, Dennis had still become antsy. So, he'd told them that he was going to spend the day out today. He just didn't tell them how far 'out' was.
He'd flown his broom back to London, a tiring trip, really. Dennis didn't have a real reason for coming back here, save that it had been a while since he had last been. And it was still home, for the most part. But that didn't mean that he was going to fly right into Diagon Alley or the middle of London. No, Dennis would stick to smaller, muggle towns as usual. Preferably some distance from London and other large cities.
Landing and quickly shrinking his broom so that it would fit back in his pocket along with his few belongings, Dennis had made his way to a diner, which had either opened very early, or stayed open twenty-four/seven. Either way, all of that flying, Dennis needed a tall glass of ice cold water and some hot tea. Maybe with honey. That sounded really good. And a waffle. His stomach made a loud noise and Dennis stiffled a giggle. Apparently, he hadn't gotten as much sleep as he thought he had.
After breakfast, Dennis made his way out into the streets of Stokesley. He stayed close to the buildings, in the shadows as often as he could. Though when he saw what looked to be a small Alley with a few stores littering every few feet, Dennis veered down that way, only stopping when he got to the bookstore. Curiosity got the best of him and into the store he went. For a back alley bookstore, it was surprisingly nice. Dennis walked between stacks of books, looking over the titles, trying to find something that would satisfy him at his reading level, somewhere between seventh and eigth grades.
Ernie: As a compliment to the author, Ernie was so lost in the book that he barely registered the tinkling of the bell over the door as someone came in. Usually he would let customers wander for a while before he pestered them. Most of Libellus' base preferred it that way. It was a form of magic, he supposed, getting lost in literature the way some people could. Like slipping into some alternate reality, just the way he'd mused earlier. If someone needed something, he was obvious, perched high on a stool as he was. Not the most comfortable of seating arrangements, but it would do. Ernie had learned to make do in his travels. Another man's trash, and all that other cliched nonsense that stopped being nonsense as soon as you started living it.
Just on a whim, he called out, "Let me know if I can help you with anything, yeah?"
He didn't look up from his book for even a moment. There was no point. Even in the muggle world people seemed to realize now was not a time for making friends or getting attached. Then again, over the years Ernie had come to believe that events in both mirrored one another. If there was strife in one, it was most likely caused by or related to strife in the other. Libellus was interesting, though, in the fact that it drew a different crowd. The people who came in were more often friendlier, led interesting lives, and seemed willing to take a chance at finding humanity in the world around them. Perhaps it was because they learned from the higher ideals of novels. Or, perhaps they read novels to be able to believe in higher ideals.
The easiest way out was to simply give in to the fear and the hatred. He was a pureblood. He could walk away from the struggle of living his own life and being true to his beliefs and just accept the Death Eater way. They would take him in, shape for him a new reality. Thank Merlin for the fighter in him, though. It wouldn't allow him to succumb to such a bleak fate. It kept him sharp, on his toes, and if one of Voldemort's minions had just walked into the shop, well...he was ready. Strange, how a few years could change a person.
Dennis: Dennis didn't look over towards the direction the voice had come from when he nodded his head. He just assumed that the other man in the store would be looking. Usually, when he walked into a store, he was the one that the shop personelle watched intently. He was small and dirty and sometimes a little shady looking. He couldn't help it. Before just a few days ago, showers or baths were a luxury, clean clothes were done with the help of a simple charm. He'd never been good with spells to mend clothes, so even when they were clean, they were full of holes, rips and tears that just called attention to himself. He had looked every bit the street rat. And he knew he surprised people, every time he went into a store, when he payed with cash. It was fake cash, transfigured out of rocks, it wouldn't keep for long, but long enough that he could get the things he wanted and get out before anyone noticed. Now though, now Dennis was cleaned and showered and he had even managed to get a few untorn shirts and pants which he was wearing.
Dennis scanned the shelves. A mixture of different subjects and titles jumped out at him. Mostly things that he would never really ever read. Finally, frustrated, with a sigh, Dennis made his way back to the front of the store. "Hey? You have anything more... easy?" Despite actually being seventeen, Dennis could pull off asking for younger aged books, easier to read, as he looked barely fifteen, and even that was pushing it sometimes. His mental age sometimes seemed lower even then that.
When he actually stopped to get a look at the other person, Dennis was amazed to realize that he recognized him, vaguely. He still found it odd when he went into random little muggle towns, and saw traces of the wizarding world around. He quickly looked at the book the familiar older boy held and at the books on the closest shelf to him. They weren't Wizarding books. Dennis lifted an eyebrow. "You look awful familiar..." Dennis tilted his head, checking Ernie out, staring him down and willing him to admit where they knew each other from.
Ernie: "Yeah, towards the back," Ernie replied, still without really taking an interest in the customer. The store didn't have a large children's section, but he'd managed to pick up a few young adult titles in his recent searches that the kid might like. At least, he assumed it was a kid, from the voice and the request and he really should put the book down and pay attention. It wouldn't look good to have something stolen first thing in the morning. So, under the pretense of getting coffee, he lay the book down on the counter, still open to the section he'd been reading. There was a cup in his hand when he turned around and he'd have been lying if he said he didn't almost spill it a moment later.
You look awful familiar, and no one would say those words except someone he'd known, once upon a time. Someone who knew his family, or who'd gone to Hogwarts and how on earth had they found him? He'd barely been in Yorkshire three months and the few people who'd stayed with him were smart enough to keep their mouths shut in open forums.
Ernie's blue eyes went wide as he took in the boy's appearance. He had the look of someone Ernie had known, not well, but by association. Everyone knew everyone else at Hogwarts, if not by name then by house or some other such trivial detail. But this kid? He just couldn't place him, even though he knew him. The best thing was that he couldn't possibly have been a Death Eater. Voldemort wasn't exactly known for recruiting children and this boy couldn't be more than sixteen or seventeen if he was that old. Still, it was good to err on the side of caution.
"What house were you in?"
It was a completely innocent question and one that would make absolutely no sense to a muggle, which was the plan. If the boy answered and answered honestly, Ernie would know where to go from here. Until then, he was playing it safe.
Dennis: Dennis looked Ernie over one last time at his question before turning towards the books that were behind him. They werent the young adult books he had asked for, and the words were a little too big for him to understand, even just in some of the titles, but Dennis left his attention there for a moment before answering. He didn't look back at Ernie when he did answer.
"Gryffindor." Ernie had been in the DA with him. That's why he looked even more so familiar then any old other Hogwarts student off of the street. He plucked one of the books off of the shelf, looking over the cover before reading the inside sleeve to see what the book was about. When he was done, he pulled it close to his chest, crossing both of his arms over it. The feel of the hard book over his chest felt a bit like protection, more so then when he had nothing covering him. It was a thick book. Not that he thought Ernie would turn on him, but again, one could never be too sure. Dennis hated being so unsure about people, he liked when he used to be able to say two words to a person and be able to trust them explicitly.
"You weren't though. You were in another house. But you were in the DA.." Dennis turned back to Ernie again, a small smile twisting his lips upwards. There was nothing at all threatening about him and with the book covering him for protection, Dennis looked just a little smaller, a little scared of Ernie. Well, maybe not specifically scared of Ernie, but just in general. He wasn't thought. Dennis was a confident little thing and he knew he could take care of himself if something went wrong.
Ernie: "No, I was a Hufflepuff." At least he could still read people well enough to guess when they were (or weren't, in this case) lying to him. But something about the boy being in the DA struck him as odd. Harry hadn't started the group until they were all in fifth year and Ernie knew for certain that the kid hadn't been in his year or the year below. Maybe he had an older brother? That thought resonated as though there was some truth behind it. Sometimes it was hard to remember. More than half a decade had passed since then, but he pressed himself. The knowledge was there, if he could just put his finger on it. And then it hit him. Two small, mousy boys with huge amounts of energy and a lot of pluck despite their diminutive stature. Clearly, that hadn't changed much for this one, even if there was a sense of the hunted to him.
"Creevey!" he exclaimed softly. "Colin and...forgive me, but I think...Dennis, right? Dennis Creevey? You were in third year, or something, when Ha-," Ernie trailed off, his coffee forgotten. A frown darkened his features. It wasn't easy anymore to say Harry Potter's name. There was no telling who might be listening. Even in a deserted bookstore in a remote muggle town, Ernie felt the constricting fear that always seemed to be just beneath the surface lately. He pushed it down viciously. "When the DA started, I mean. What...I..." and yeah, he was never this inarticulate. "Sorry, Ernie Macmillan."
Dennis: Dennis' smile grew bigger when Ernie identified him, and continued to grow as he tripped over his own words. It was real, human, and endearing. Dennis liked him, just for that. "Second year. Colin snuck me into Hogsmeade for the first meeting." It was still something Dennis was incredibly proud of. Even now, he was still the youngest member the DA had ever had. And he and his brother had found the way into Hogsmeade on their own that year too, no help from the Weasley Twins or any other student. Dennis liked doing things ahead of his time.
"Ernie.." Dennis tested the name on his tongue. The name wasn't incredibly familiar, but he was sure that he had paired himself off with Ernie at least once or twice in the DA meetings when practicing their spells. He tried to pair himself off with everyone at least once so that he wasn't only getting to know his brother's style. He had been smart like that, even as a twelve year old.
He unfolded his arms, letting the book drop down to his side, along with his arm. "He was caught though, Colin. By the snatchers." And now he was rotting away inside of Azkaban, only just a shadow of what Dennis remembered him being. Colin had been his protector, his big brother, everything Dennis wanted to be. Brave and strong and happy. Now he was scared and small and wanted to die and Dennis didn't know what to think anymore. He just wanted his brother back. And, to be honest, he wasn't exactly sure he was happy about finding out that his brother was still alive after almost three years of thinking he was actually dead. He had gotten used to that idea. Now things were just different.
Ernie: Dennis was smiling, which made Ernie relax visibly. He finally sipped at the coffee, which had gotten just a little colder, and made a face. Quickly, he drank half of it and threw the rest away. At least what was in the pot would be kept warm if they talked for any length of time. He could have a proper cuppa later in the morning. All that caffeine was going to kill him one day. A few moments after he'd thrown the drink away, Ernie was glad he'd done so. Hearing that Colin, yet another of his schoolmates, had been caught by Snatchers and chucked in wizarding prison was enough to turn his stomach to rot. It was awful imagining his best mate there. He couldn't begin to understand what Dennis must be feeling.
"I'm sorry to hear that." He really, truly was. The new laws imposed by the Ministry were utter rubbish, but it didn't do any good to talk about it. People knew. Some were doing things about it. Others were simply trying to stay alive. For now, Ernie fell into the latter category, though he would always suspect that as a pureblood, he was safe. Until he turned a wand on someone, that is. It would've been stupid of him to assume that the other side didn't know where his loyalties lay. He'd fought the takeover and done his share of injury, but in the end, it hadn't mattered, had it? "I expect you're on the run, then."
It came out as more of a statement than a question. Ernie couldn't recall whether the Creevys were muggleborn or halfblood. Neither was acceptable to their enemies. Just as a precaution, he walked over and threw the latch on the door, then lowered the blinds on the windows. Turning back to Dennis, he smiled reassuringly and tugged his wand free of his sleeve. Conjuring a chair was easy enough and he was glad to know that the Ministry hadn't yet taken to tracing any and all magic. He was still talking as he walked into the kitchen to retrieve the plate of cookies.
"Sit. There's only a few people who know where I am and they're all on our side," he said softly, resuming his perch on the stool behind the counter. "Anyway, you look tired. Where are you coming from?"
Dennis: Dennis nodded. "Five years now, going on." He hated being on the run. He would have loved to settle down. Settle down to the point where after a week he didn't get nervous and start to itch for somewhere new. Where he didn't have to jump on his broom and fly to a different country for the day because if made him feel better. If he could have, without going insane, Dennis would have happily stayed in the apartment that Hestia and Charlie had opened up to him. In all reality, Dennis didn't think he would ever get to go home, for real. To his parents and have his family again. He wasn't even sure where his parents were. Colin had tried to convince them to move away and they had left before any concrete plans had really been made. His parents would have been anywhere and Colin could be dead tomorrow or now, for all Dennis knew. He'd seen Theodore's Nott threat to come and teach his brother a lesson for waisting ink. Dennis was scared for his brother.
When Ernie pulled out his wand, Dennis quickly pulled the book back up to his chest, covering himself again. He would always be jumpy when their were wands were involved, especially with people he didn't know completely. He visibly relaxed, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and sat in the newly conjured chair. "Thank you."
He was tired. Not as tired as he had been just a few days before, but still tired. "Flew in from Ireland this morning. Will fly back later today." He hadn't been taught to apparate and he had heard that it wasn't the most pleasant way to travel, so he was okay with flying. Unless Ernie had a fireplace around somewhere that he could use to get back to the apartment a million times quicker.
Ernie: Ernie did have a fireplace, but it was back at his house and somehow he thought that Dennis might balk at the mode of transportation between here and there. It was adding insult to injury, but it kept he and his friends safe. It allowed him to provide shelter to people he cared about, without having to worry that the location would be stolen from their memories if they were caught. Regardless, his hearth wasn't attached to the Ministry's Floo network, so it wouldn't have done Dennis much good anyway. A connection to the Ministry would have no doubt spelled trouble for Ernie, in one way or another.
"Blimey." Again, he couldn't imagine. He'd been running, if you could call it that, for three years, but he'd always had somewhere to call home in that time. His grandparents were supporters of the Order, but they were somehow removed from it all, in Ireland. It was almost as if the country were neutral ground or something, but Ernie knew better. Anything that seemed that easy was never so in the harsh light of reality. "That's a long trip, just for the day." He was about to add that he had a place, if Dennis wanted to stop over, but that seemed as good an idea as asking why the younger Creevey brother had come over in the first place. England wasn't safe for people like him. Ireland wasn't completely off limits to the Snatchers either, but it was a bit harder to track their quarry there. "D'you need anything that I could get you? I'm not on any wanted lists at the moment."
And okay, that was a bit of a white lie. Anyone who harbored fugitives or supported the Order or who ever had any friendly dealings with Harry Potter was automatically on a wanted list, it seemed, for questioning at the very least. But Ernie knew he could slip into and out of London unnoticed. He'd done it before, when he needed supplies. Having lived like a muggle for so long, those times were becoming few and far between. Sometimes he wondered if one day he wouldn't just cease to use magic altogether. Sometimes it was easier.
Then people like Dennis showed up on his doorstep, having somehow wandered into the one random village within a hundred miles that employed a wizard and he was reminded of the world that he really belonged to, the world that he knew he would never completely abandon, no matter how bad things got. These people were his friends, his classmates, hell, human beings, and it made his ire rise like a particularly nasty case of indigestion when he thought of their plight. His plight, because his life had been turned upside down as well. Mostly by his own choice and thanks to a strong moral center or some such. Right versus wrong and good versus evil, even. It shocked him sometimes how many people (his own parents included) could just overlook the state of things. The awful way halfbloods and muggleborns were treated nowadays. The fact that purebloods obviously didn't have all the answers. Ernie heaved a sigh and shook himself out of his reverie, his frown softening just a fraction.
Dennis: "I'm staying with some people. But I got antsy. I don't like to stay in one place for too long." Dennis felt a little like he was giving too much information out about himself. Strangely, he didn't really feel that way in Charlie and Hestia's place. Maybe that should have said something to him, a little tinge to be more careful about saying certain things in certain places. But Dennis had never really been known for his tact or saying the right thing all the time. Why should he have started now?
Dennis wasn't really worried about the places that were safe or not for his kind. No where was safe for him, really. If they wanted him bad enough, they would come and get him no matter where he went. They would track him forever if they really wanted to, if they really thought he was a threat. But Dennis was small and could get through things easily enough. And he could run fast. With or without the uses of spells, he would be able to escape a situation just by speed. That didn't factor in if someone attacked him unprepared or from behind though. Still, he wasn't overly worried about it.
"Don't think I need anything." And even if he did need something, he wasn't exactly sure just how he would go about asking for it. He had supplied though. Enough to last him when he finally decided to leave Ireland for good and not for just a day's wandering. "Thanks anyway." Must have been nice not to be on any wanted lists. Dennis couldn't even imagine. He knew he was on wanted lists. Not only was he a muggleborn, but he had been in the DA, and he has escaped from a trackers attack on their little camp. They had his brother, and they must have wanted him too, for the complete set of Creevey brothers.
Just the thought of that made him worry more about his parents. What would the trackers do to them the find out where the magic thief was? What had they already done to them? Dennis hadn't heard a single word about his parents in years, hadn't seen them or anything. As far as he knew, they could have been long dead and burried by now.
"Actually.. I'm going to go now.." He didn't want to be overly rude and just run out, but he wasn't overly comfortable. And he had already spilled too much information, saying that he had been staying in Ireland. "And I lied.. I'm not going back to Ireland. I've got some place nearby to stay at." Even as he said it, it sounded fake and very much like a lie. "I'll see ya around, yeah?" He gave a little smile, and a nod before he made his move towards the door and left.