Something Important

[Monty Pendleton]

December, 2039.

Monty's house had never been in terribly good condition. In fact, its previous tenants had deemed it so far beyond repair that, rather than attempt to fix it, they'd simply evicted themselves off the premesis and never returned. Years of abuse and neglect had worn the structure like a frail, bowed old man, crippled with war wounds and battle scars. Where windows should have been, gaping holes with jagged teeth made frame to an endless black. Creeping ivy deposited its tendrils into every crack and crevice that could possibly have been considered a space. Nobody dared go near the structure for fear a light gust of wind might bring the entire thing toppling down upon them.

Except Monty.

Maybe it was desperation. Perhaps he was beguiled by the the sight of a dilapidated house, with all its flaws and imperfections readily displayed; the house had no shame. It couldn't help the state into which it had been allowed to deteriorate. Most likely, it was a little of both. He'd been desperate, certainly. His long hours of walking had worn him so brutally he'd have slept on the street corner if he hadn't been afraid of who might wake him. But when he'd caught his first glimpse of the decayed house, with its broken windows and wildly overgrown garden, he'd needed no more persuading. This was home. Or it was now, anyway.

How many years ago had this been? How many decades? Monty could recall it as if it were only yesterday. And now the building was being condemned. After he'd worked tirelessly to restore it to an acceptable condition, a single, backfiring experiment had undone the process in the blink of an eye. The authorities weren't wrong - the house was no longer fit for accommodation. But that didn't make it hurt any less.

By the last week of the Christmas holidays in 2039, Monty had relinquished all hope of ever returning to his home. According to the letter he'd received several months earlier, he had only three days left to restore his house before it was taken from his possession, and with less than twenty galleons to his name, the chances of this occurring were about as slim as they came. So when Arvo, with whom he was temporarily staying, woke him one morning and told him to get up urgently for 'Something important,' thoughts of his house were not apposite. He did as he was told, dressing hurriedly and closing his eyes to be side-apparate somewhere. This was an unusual instruction, but still Monty obeyed. There was a little walk, which required some trust on Monty's behalf, him being presently blind, and then they came to a stop. "I really don't understand," he told Arvo for the fifth time, as a light wind picked up the street. Where were they? Why did he have his eyes closed? At last he was informed he could open them. He did so gingerly.

Stood before him, behind a large group of unfamiliar people, was a magnificent Victorian house. It was the most splendid on the entire road; its bricks were clean and pale, its height impressive to the point of almost imposing, and, most incredibly of all, it had four walls and a roof. This was the factor predominantly responsible for him taking quite some seconds to realise that they were standing on his street, looking up at his house. Monty's mouth opened, and from it came two words he had never before arranged together in such an order: "Holy s**t."

 

[Damide Snow]

People who eavesdropped seldom heard what they wished to, and Damide had been no exception that late evening before Professor Pendleton's birthday. When he'd gone to poke his congratulatory letter under the door into the Potion Master's office, he'd chanced upon a sad meeting between Pendleton and Tuuri, who were discussing the state of Pendleton's home and its approaching demolition. Grave news, indeed, even to a first year's understanding. Never sneaky, Damide had been found by the Arithmancy professor before he could sneak away and keep his thoughts to himself, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Together, they'd had a chance to do more than just offer condolences (and in Tuuri's case, a place to stay). He'd put it to the part-goblin that they must bring the house up to standard for Pendleton - and he knew just who to turn to for help.

Damide knew more than the average eleven year old about architecture, yet still less than an architect. He took special interest in floor plans, and when he'd first approached the dilapidated home that used to be Pendleton's sanctuary, he'd immediately lit up with schemes for improvement. His father had patted him placatingly, advising discretion before he flew away to plan greenhouses and basements and all manner of pretty, but ultimately fruitless add-ons. They and all the people they'd recruited (or press-ganged) into helping had to strip the house to its bare-bones before anything could be salvaged.

They took care to save what furniture they could, and ordered what wasn't replaceable. Damide's best recruit had been Gregory Yearling, his adopted uncle and former schoolmate of Pendleton's. The gardener had a great many assets to bring to the project; wealth, strength, enthusiasm and familiarity with the work that needed to be done. Above all, Gregory recalled Monty with quiet affection, and had been grieved to hear of his misfortune. He'd put forward the most money towards outfitting the house (when it was fit for habitation again), citing his inheritance, savings and earnings as 'baggage he had no use for'. Over the moon, Damide had hugged his uncle many times, causing the part goblin to blush.

Damide supervised as best he could while he studied, but the most progress occurred over the Christmas holidays. The house had sat cold and empty for weeks while he was at school, naked save for the skeleton of the original building and the foundations they were built into. Even then, whatever happened to it had shaken the house to its core, and they'd had to organise reinforcements before it was safe for the 'crew' to continue. Others had been persuaded to assist; Simon Blackmoore, another of Damide's uncles; Keevan White, Gregory's partner and another man who had schooled with Pendleton. Lucan White came along just to ogle Uncle Simon, Damide suspected, but no one seemed to notice except him, and perhaps Uncle Greg who kept giving him significant 'shushing' looks whenever he tried to get Lucan working for once.

Professor Tuuri 'helped' a great deal, setting up a banana lounge early into the reconstruction and supervising, often with a pina colada in his hand. He sometimes enlisted the help of his children and grandchildren, which sped up the work and made Damide very grateful. Everyone was grateful for Mrs Tuuri's cakes and pies, none of which made it past lunchtime at every break. Damide and his family worked tirelessly, each with their own reasons for helping but none disparaging the cause; the young Ravenclaw boy pitched his plan passionately to each of them and received full loyalty in return.

Finally, the day arrived when the Ministry could declare Monty Pendleton's home habitable. More than that, it was spectacular. The real treat of the place was the gardens, after Gregory had gotten stuck into them. He'd gone a little overboard, really, but after Damide expressed his forbearance, the part goblin assured him that he would keep up its maintenance free of charge. It was an excuse to garden more, as well as catch up with an old friend. The boy himself could be faulted for being too enthusiastic with 'secret rooms', puzzle locks and rotating bookcases; his father had vetoed all of them save the laboratory Damide insisted Pendleton needed. It was, after all, the epicenter of the blast that had wrecked the house in the first place, therefore it was the most important room to him. Merlin knew what kind of lab he'd been using, but Damide planned one all the same, making sure there was ample storage and a large, sturdy workbench for ... whatever his funny Potions professor got up to.

It was time. Damide shuffled from foot to foot and tried to hide behind his father when Audel wasn't looking, but he was nudged forward by someone every time, blushing and scuffing his shoes even before Pendleton was due to arrive. Finally he could see the man himself (and his tiny companion) coming up the road, and he pasted a nervous smile onto his face and bit down on the urge to shout 'Surprise!'. Pendleton was likely going to get a shock anyway, he didn't need shouting. His Professor's reaction was ... underwhelming. Damide's mouth dropped open, and there were a few snorts from his family at the man's uttered 'Holy s**t'. He hoped beyond hope that it was a good exclamation. Not for the first time, he found himself doubting whether or not he'd made the right decision. Tuuri had insisted he had, but he still felt like he'd intruded upon Pendleton's privacy in order to make this happen. Please, thought Damide. Please let him like it.​

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Following his initial exclamation, Monty could not think of a single thing adequate to say. Seeing Damide amongst the many people who, for reasons beyond Monty, had gathered around outside his house, he clamped his hands over his mouth and gave the boy and his family an apologetic look. "I'm sorry," he said into his fingers. He wanted to ask what everyone was doing here. Why they had restored the house of a complete stranger whom they had spoken not a single word to. But he was hard pressed keeping himself upright, let alone forming comprehensive sentences. This was... unbelievable. Ridiculous. What had he done to deserve this unprecedented kindness? And how could he ever thank them?

Overwhelmed with gratitude and disbelief, Monty began to cry silently. "I don't understand," he said, making that the sixth repetition of the morning. He turned to Arvo, but the Arithmancy Professor was of no use. Somehow, Monty doubted he'd had much to do with the actual work, anyway. Turning back to the unfamiliar faces, he said, "Who are you? W.. why? Damide?" Monty wiped the tears from his cheeks to address the only person besides Arvo he immediately recognized. This was bizarre. Why was nobody telling him what was going on? For example, what one of his first year pupils was doing here?