#dc:drabble

[onelittlesparkx]

M Prompt

Grimmauld Place.

He supposed this place might have been a home at some point but the chill was so prominent, Dennis could never find a tranquilizing moment. Or maybe it was that annoying portrait in the main entrance constantly proclaiming its detest for him.

"Mudblood, vermin! Grimmauld Place is ruined."

He wondered if they could get away with burning the damned thing.

The space was snug and most of them were sharing the floor, but he didn't mind. It was better to be safe and piled over each other than safe and alone. Well, at least for him. Dennis never did well with solitary.  For right now, with their little group, it should be fine. He watched as Seamus and Dean were passing around drinks and the scent of Susan Bones' stew was filling up the house. It almost felt normal,  if they ignored the fact that they were celebrating a successful supply run where no one died.

Just as he walked into the dining area he felt a tussle of his wet hair accompanied by the smile of Victoria Frobisher. She always teased him about how often he wore his hat and made it a point to ruff up his hair after his showers; air drying it out.

"Don't forget, we have a defensive magic lesson later," she reminded him.  It took him a moment to find his voice; Icky Vicki always seemed to do that to him.

"I'm not gonna forget." As he sat down at the table, Seamus handed him a cup, realizing quickly from the scent that it was more than Pumpkin juice.

"Tuh Today!" Seamus raised his glass.

"Here, here!" Chimed Dean.

And they all drank.

Even while things seemed at their worst, Dennis realized now how good they had it even then, before they had this big target on their backs. Sometimes he wished he could go back. He could appreciate what he had more instead of missing it now.

[onelittlesparkx]

Silent Night

It had been more than three long years since the last time he had walked down that street. The sound of skateboard wheels hitting the asphalt of that corner was so embedded into his memory he could almost hear it now; on a night of silence. His jaw loosened, taking a breath as he leaned against the wired fence, eyes set on the dark and empty house he had once called home. Broken milk bottles lined the side of the house, broken windows boarded up, and bright orange notices decorated the front door.

He heard the faint singing of carolers in the distance, probably the irritably peppy Wilson family from down the street, and decided to take off before someone who recognized him could spot him.

Three years ago he wouldn't have dared walked into a pub, whatever his age. Now he made his way into what had once been a home now renovated into a fountain of cheers, removed the familiar token on his head and sat down at the bar and handed the tender his fake i.d.  "I'll take a Fosters, on tap, and anything you can tell me about the empty house down the street."

That led him here, armored doors buzzing to open as he stepped into the visitor's room of the penitentiary.  He ruffled up his hair up a bit and watched his father being escorted in from the other side of the glass. For a moment he stood with shocked eyes but caught on rather quickly that he should continue to act normal. As the elder man sat down he pointed to the receivers and picked his own up.

Dennis hesitated for a moment but followed suit, leaning closer towards the glass. "Nice way to spend Christmas Eve," he noted with sarcasm. "Went by the house, found out what happened. I should have come sooner."

Dennis has learned that the night he and his brother had gone on the run, the night Death Eaters had come to collect them, that they had killed his mother and left enough of a mess that his father was accused of a murder and possibly a triple with no proof for muggle eyes of the contrary.

"I could come forward, at least... to prove--"

"Are things better?" His father asked but he knew the answer from the tired look on Dennis' face. "Leave it then. I don't want you boys calling attention to yourselves."

Dennis bit his bottom lip at the realization that Robert Creevey didn't know he only had one son that was alive.

"Where is your brother, anyway?"

Dennis considered his options, sighed, then leaned the receiver closer in. "Colin's fine, on a secret mission." He lied. "We've been fighting, trying to fix things." The look of his father's proud face almost broke his heart in two.

"Good. You show'em you've got the right. I know enough about it all to know your mom and I were lucky that both of our boys were blessed with those gifts. That doesn't just happen. You keep fighting Den." He looked at his son for a long moment and blinked. "You've grown up so much..."

Dennis blinked back his tears, "I'll get you out."

"With a team," he added. "There are ways to make it seem like you weren't even hear, like none of this happened. You can come back to the castle with m-us." He nodded at the thought; it was a plan that could work quite easily.

"Don't waste your time and resources on me, kid. You need everything you got for the fight." He placed his hand on the glass. "Seeing you, seeing how much you've grown, is more than enough for now. But you should get going, just in case."

Dennis reached for his father's hand against the glass and looked down at his feet as he nodded, unable to bring himself to say anything. The warmth on the glass faded and he realized his father had gotten up and walked back the guard. Dennis gave himself a few seconds before getting up, looking back at the empty chair. "I'll come back for you."

[onelittlesparkx]

Prompt

“Be one of us tonight.”

He caught himself before he could fall, his wrist meeting his cheek to wipe the blood off his face. His cut stung but not nearly as much as his heart. His eyes were red, fighting back tears, but the pain and anger were clear in his gaze as he looked up at the two wizards who had captured him. The sounds of the battle were dulling down, an indication that it was coming to an end and by the looks of things it seemed like they had lost.

"One of us?" he could help but ask as his eyes lingered over to his wand in one of their hands. He could kick himself for getting disarmed so easily but then again he wasn't even supposed to be there. If he had just left through the passage like he was suppose to maybe...maybe...

"Where's the other one?" One of them asked as he looked at his partner. "There were two of them, the brother."

"Dead," responded the other.

Dennis's jaw tightened and then the rest of him tensed.

"Doesn't matter," the wizard stepped towards Dennis, extending a finger only for the corner of Dennis' eye to catch an extended claw running delicately across his cheek.  

He was a werewolf.

Suddenly the statement made sense. He threw himself forward to run but was blocked and pushed back. The werewolf howled with laughter. "One of us or die, kid: that's the only option for mudbloods now."  

He wanted to want to live. He wanted the desire to see his parents, his friends, but he felt nothing. He couldn't feel anything except the despair that came with seeing Colin's body falling lifeless on the ground. He stood frozen, blinking back tears, ready to accept the latter of those terms when suddenly he heard a struggle of pain and the werewolf feel to the ground. Jumping back, Dennis watched the other one getting knocked back by a spell and the first thing he could think to do was scramble forward and get his wand back.

"Oi!  we ain't got all night, lad." Seamus grabbed the collar of Dennis' shirt and he felt his back run into Dean's side. Dennis really didn't have time to register as he checked his wand and looked back at the castle; the fire of the gryffindor tower reaching out towards the sky.

"Wha--whut? What's going on?" The pair of older boys urged him past Hagrid's hut and into the forest.

"Potters dead," even as they ran Dean's voice still managed to crack at the words. "It's done."

"And we're done if we don't leave now." He heard the newly commanding voice of Nevile Longbottom as they reached the forest.  "We can't save everyone. We have to retreat." He felt Neville's hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"You saw him?" Dennis couldn't even say his name. Neville only nodded and pointed out ahead of them.

"We got you," Dean assured him and nodded ahead of him. "Let's go." And all four boys ran into the darkness and unknown.

[onelittlesparkx]

Dennis/Addison: “My Happy Ending” Avril Lavigne - Dennis finds Addison alone after the news of Caleb's death, and comforts her.

He couldn’t begin to understand how she was feeling. Love.Aside from the love of family, Dennis didn’t understand it, hadn’t really knownit. There were times when he thought it came close but he realized if heexperienced love he was know it.  So howdoes it feel to love and lose it?

He saw the pain it caused but never knew and it was one ofthe few things he was grateful for.

He stayed quiet; the only sound of him approaching came fromthe shuffling of his feet parting the blades of grass. Grass that had beenstained with blood time and time again and yet it still regrew.

Sitting down beside the older girl he sighed, crossing hislegs like a little kid and pulled out a length of yarn from his pocket. Hisfingers fiddled as he braided it within itself, all the while trying to come upwith something to say that didn’t sound stupid.

“We were supposeto have a lot more than this,” she broke the silence but didn’t sayany more than that. Dennis was left to ponder the words, realizing it wasn’t dissimilarto how he felt about his brother. He wasn’t sure if it was the right thing tosay but it was what he knew.

“And now you don’t,” he didn’t look at Addison,didn’t want to phase out the moment he saw her reaction. Instead he keptbraiding. “Now everything has to change and you have to change with it. Itsucks.” He knotted the ends and then reached over to Addison’s arm,wrapping it around her wrist. “Everything you wanted you can’t haveanymore. It’s okay to be mad about it.” He tied the two ends and pickedhimself back up. “But you don’t have to be mad alone.”

[onelittlesparkx]

It was the same normal house. In the same normal neighborhood with the seemingly normal family. All accept for the boys whose height's and obvious age-revealing features were what kept them apart. White paint chips lined the base of the wooden fence where the pieces had yet to fall. Beyond the border next to the matching building ( a small home with falling panels) was a pile of metal parts and things worthy of any collector's dreams. Next to that. the old 1980's volvo hummed, calling to the muggleborn. For some reason he felt uneasy as he approached, expecting to see his father busy working on his auto project. Nothing but a case of tools and his brother's hat. Why wasn't he wearing it? He always wore the damned thing the moment Colin shoved it on his head during the battle. Suddenly, the smell of boxed macaroni and cheese caught his attention and he realized the window beside him was open. He looked inside and saw three figures sitting at the table. His breath caught in his throat and for a moment he froze; his brain screaming to move. Finally he overpowered his fear and nearly tripped over Colin's skateboard as he headed for the side door of the home. The air from the buzzing a/c window unit cooled his face while the screen door shut behind him. For a second he forget where and when he was. "You're eating without me?" Brow rose quizzically feeling like a child again. He realized they were all looking down at their plates, unable to properly see them. "Mom? Dad?" They said nothing. "Colin?" The other boy looked up but there was no face, just flashes of the final moments he saw his brother alive. He panicked. The moment he did they all disappeared and he was alone, in the house he grew up in. It didn't matter that they were far from rich or lacked the cosmetic beauty a home usually had, it was still his and up until now hadn't seemed very haunting. Now it was marred with the departure of the Creeveys and their two sons. Almost dream like. "Where are you?" He heard faint voices, like they wanted to talk to him but couldn't. "I'm here. I'm still here!" He looked around frantically, hoping to be seen or see someone. Nothing. "I could come home, I could find you. I could go back" But stopped in place when he realized he couldn't. He could never go back. Going back meant looking into the eyes of his parents and telling them their son was dead and allow them placing any blame on him, their youngest. For someone who ran into battle he was such a coward. A filthy mudblood. "Get out," he shook his head and everyone around him started to fade at the previous thought. "Get out of my head!" "Even you're fears are pathetic," he could hear the shadowy figure gloat while all Dennis could do was gather himself as best as he could before his mind was targeted again. "If you say so, but you can't make me feel any worse than I already do." Closing his eyes, he braced himself.