My brother was always taking pictures. He even got a couple of pictures of Harry Potter while he was at school. I might have, I don't remember. All the pictures I would take at Hogwarts he would have taken one just like it already.
I started taking pictures when I was really young. I got my first camera the same year as my brother. We got them for Christmas when he was six and I was five. Before Hogwarts taking pictures was wonderful. I would be able to take pictures of lots of things that Colin had never tried photographing or had attempted and hadn't done very well at.
But once we started Hogwarts everything changed. In the year that Colin was there before me and he had taken pictures of nearly everything on the grounds and in the castle. By the time I had gotten into Hogwarts everything was already taken.
That's when it started. The jealousy that started surging through my veins. I didn't understand why he got to take all the pictures first. Then when I took a picture of the same thing it wouldn't be as good as his, just because his came first. I started looking forward to going back home where the pictures I took wouldn't be the same as Colin's.
Looking back now I realize that I did have pictures that I took at Hogwarts that were better than Colin's but at that time I didn't realize it. I just saw how much attention his pictures got while mine got none. I guess it is possible that he could have been a professional photographer for some big wizard newspaper like the Daily Prophet but not now. Now everything has changed.
The summer before my sixth year my brother and I decided to do a project together. We took pictures of each other holding up signs. The signs said different things about photography such as "A photograph is usually looked at - seldom looked into," and "If you're photographing in color you show the color of their clothes - if you use black and white, you will show the color of their soul."
We put all the pictures together in a book so that if we had children we could pass our love of photography to them. We only made one copy though. Colin got it because he thought he was actually going to get married and have kids. I didn't want to so I didn't want to have the book. But now there is no way for him to pass that book on to his children.
My brother was killed. Killed in that last battle with Voldemort. He stood bravely beside Harry Potter trying to help. Voldemort didn't even kill him. A Death Eater killed Colin.
If he was going to die he should have at least been important enough for Voldemort to kill him personally. I have never seen another person as brave as my brother. Not even Harry Potter. I didn't realize how much I loved him while he was still alive and I hated myself for that. I didn't treat with him with all the love that he deserved. To this day I still cry when thoughts of that fateful day float up in my mind.
"Go Dennis," he yelled at me over the dead bodies lying on the battlefield. "This isn't the place for you. You need to get somewhere safe. There is no need for you to risk your life here.""But there is Colin," I shouted as I ran toward him as fast as I could, jumping over the bodies. "I can help too. You shouldn't be here alone.""I'm not alone," he said, as I got closer. "There are plenty of other wizards and witches here. I am just standing up as a part of a team.""But none of those other wizards are me," I said, a tear running down my face, carving a trail in the dirt."I know, and I would love for you to be here but you need to get out of here so that you aren't killed," Colin said desperately, a tear running down his face to match mine.I could see the pleading in his eyes and hear the pain in his voice. No matter how jealous I was of him and his photographs I couldn't stand the pain in his voice. I knew that if I stayed here then he would just be worrying about me and then he wouldn't have his guard up to keep from getting himself killed. I didn't want him killed so I turned and ran off the grounds up to the castle. I needed to find somewhere I could hide, but still watch the battle going on. I stood on the steps of the castle and glanced back to look at my brother for the last time. I watched as a bolt of green light hit him before I could even open my mouth to scream. Tears rose to my eyes and spilled over. I looked over to the direction that the bolt had come from and saw the man that I recognized as Avery from the pictures in the Daily Prophet laughing maniacally and pointing his wand at various people on the side of the light and killing them. I ran back to my brother's body, ducking curses as they were thrown at me. I collapsed at his side and clutched his cold, lifeless hand. His eyes were looking at me almost as if he wanted to say something to me, but couldn't. I stayed there by his side until the battle was over and Voldemort's evil laugh finally fell silent.
After that day I was given the photography book. Mom and Dad insisted that Colin would have wanted me to have it. As I flip through it I remember all of the good times that we had together. At the very back of the book we had put a section of pictures of us just having fun together. In one of them, Colin had taken a picture of me fiddling with a new camera trying to figure out how to work it, but my favorite picture was the one that was taken by one of my parents after Colin had taken the first picture and I watch it the most often. In it Colin comes over after taking the picture and helps me figure out how the camera works.
Whenever I watch that picture my heart aches even more for the loss of my brother. But the good times with my brother have passed. All that's left are pictures.
