Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter world or any of the works of J.K. Rowling. The italicized quote at the bottom is taken directly from Book 7 Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The rest of this story is a work of fanfiction, and I don't make any money from the fanfiction I publish.

The Return

His brother had told him not to go back. Though answering the summons for Dumbledore's Army, they'd been told to leave, and Colin had gone just far enough to be sure his brother was safe. Then, he'd turned right back around.

Dennis didn't remember what it was like during those first couple of years when the sheer joy of discovering your own magic and a whole new world wasn't overshadowed by the rumors of Voldemort's return. Dennis didn't know Harry Potter as the young hero that Colin worshipped, but as the wizard that seemed to be at the center of history and violence. Dennis had asked once, as their family hid in seclusion from the Death Eaters after being banned from Hogwarts for their blood, "Colin, don't you wish sometimes that you hadn't been born a wizard after all?"

Colin had answered his brother's doubt with conviction. "Never. The Wizarding World needs me, and all of us, exactly as we are."

And it needed him today. Harry needed him today, he was sure of it.

So he left his brother behind and he went back. He weaved among the debris in the courtyard, until he spotted Harry and his friends on the grounds. With his wand out, he made to join them and had nearly reached them when he spotted the lone Death Eater in the shadow.

The quick battle hexes he'd learned in the DA lessons were no match for the magic of the wizard, and did little to stop the masked man as he raised his wand and pointed it at the Boy Who Lived.

Colin charged the Death Eater, yelling for Harry to watch out. But Harry's unprotected back was turned and he didn't seem to hear.

Dimly, Colin heard the words of the Unforgiveable uttered in such slow motion as to make the words unintelligible. But there was no mistaking the bright arc of green that was headed straight for his hero, the boy who had saved the wizarding world once, and would do it again. As long as no one killed him first.

Colin never faltered for an instant, in fact, he ran faster. Everything he told his brother had been true. He never regretted that he was a wizard, or that he was a Muggle-born, only that he hadn't had the time to grow into the type of wizard who could take down a Death Eater with his wandwork, instead of just trying to block that perfectly aimed spell.

The stream of green light was interrupted on its path by the body of one small, stretching, reaching Gryffindor.

And Colin Creevey—photographer, Gryffindor, wizard, soldier—only had time to think, 'What a wonderful picture this would have made! It would have been included in all the history books so no one would ever forget.'

When his lifeless body hit the ground, the sound was swallowed up in the sounds of the battle that continued to rage around him. Harry was gone, running and fighting to fulfill his destiny. The Death Eater was gone, just one of many who would be arrested later and charged with so many accounts of casting Unforgiveables that no would ever bother checking what came of them all.

Later, as Harry was once again exiting the castle, trying to wrap his mind around what the Pensieve had revealed he would be required to do and trying to slow down the frantic beating of his heart, Neville nearly walked into him. He was one half of a pair that was carrying a body in from the grounds. Harry glanced down, and felt another dull blow to his stomach: Colin Creevey, though underage, must have sneaked back just as Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had done. He was tiny in death.

Harry wondered what had happened, and if Colin had known he faced death. He'd never be able to prove it, but he knew that Colin had faced it with courage—a true Gryffindor. And Harry would do the same.

A/N: Whoops. I sat down to work on the end of my Draco Veela fic for the H&V Fest, and…this came out instead. Just a quick drabble because it's raining outside, and it feels like tears for poor Colin.