A/N: This story was written for The Houses Competition, Year 2, Round 8.
House: Gryffindor
Position: Year 3
Category: Drabble
Prompts: 2. [Prompt] Everything but the kitchen sink
Word count: 496 words (according to Google docs)
Betas: Thank you to Shay (ipsa dixit) for beta'ing :)
Other: The prompt given reminded me of the saying, 'everything but the kitchen sink' people often use to describe someone who had over-packed for a trip (and I may or may not have been told several times—in my defence, everything felt necessary haha). It had first inspired a Regulus story similar to this one, with Orion being understanding, but it, well, didn't work out. I, therefore, hope you enjoy this story, set just before the 1997 school year. The comma issue around 'therefore' was annoying me (as in, whether or not to put them in), so I ended up going with the sources that said to keep them. I can't change it after handing in, but any ideas about that issue are more than welcome for future reference :))
Everything but the Kitchen Sink
Colin looked around his room. He had started with a list of things to pack, but every time he searched for a particular item, he would find something else to add to it. With Snape now rumoured to be Headmaster of Hogwarts, he didn't know what to expect, and everything seemed useful.
"You've got everything but the kitchen sink in there."
Turning to the doorway, Colin saw his father staring at his trunk, a small smile on his face.
"Yeah, it's going to be a busy year," he said.
His stomach gave a funny twist as he pushed a copy of The Daily Prophet under a few shirts to hide the blaring heading announcing Rufus Scrimgeour's death. He wasn't outright lying to his father, but it didn't make him feel any better.
His father walked over to his bedside table and picked up a photo frame. The picture inside was of Colin when he was eleven. A large grin was on his face as he stood in front of the Leaky Cauldron, his arms laden with different packages.
"I remember you packed just as much your first year," his father said with a small chuckle. "I suppose that was my fault, though; without your mother there to help, I ended up buying you everything I thought wizards would use."
Colin's stomach gave another twist. "Yeah, sorry you couldn't come with me to Diagon Alley this year. It's just…"
The man held up his hands. "I know, I know, you and Dennis are all grown up now. Don't want your old man embarrassing you."
His cheeks burned. "Yeah…"
"Are you sure you don't want me to drop you boys off tomorrow? I'm sure it will be crowded enough that your friends won't notice me."
Colin almost laughed at that statement. Going by the news in The Prophet and in the occasional copies of The Quibbler Luna sent him, he had a fair idea that the station would be pretty empty that year. His Muggle father would, therefore, be easily spotted by any Death Eaters that might be around and quickly become their target.
He didn't trust his voice to speak this time and simply shrugged.
"Well, alright," his father said, his smile faltering. "But hey, silly billy, you almost forgot this."
His father held out a textbook to him. It was a Charms textbook, one Colin hadn't bothered to pack. If there was any textbook that would be useful that year, it would be a Defence book, but there had been none requested on his school list and he shuddered to think why.
Everything about the year felt dangerous, and as he looked up at his father, he realised that the only moment they might not be in immediate peril was then. There was no point in spoiling it.
"Actually, my trunk is pretty heavy… Maybe you could drive us?"
His father's face lit up with a smile, and just for a moment, Colin's stomach stopped twisting.