Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling, I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters.
A/N: This idea has been rolling around in my head since I read book 7, so I figured the only way to get it to leave me alone was to write it down. It's totally cheesy, but bear with me. And I apologize now if the speech patterns are un-British, I'm from the U.S., so Harry looses his accent every now and then, lol.
It's Finally Over
It was finally over. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that. Obviously, he was elated that Voldemort had been defeated, but everywhere he looked, he saw just how many lives the victory had cost. Especially now, as he held Colin Creevey's mother, letting her sob into his shoulder, he was definitely torn.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Creevey, I thought he would be safe," Harry murmured. "I thought we had gotten all the underage out. I'm so sorry," he repeated.
"You're a good boy," she said, lifting her head up to look at him. "I can see why he looked up to you. You were all he talked about, you know?" Mrs. Creevey continued. "It was Harry Potter is so brave, Harry Potter is so cool, Colin's letters home are always … were always," she corrected herself with a choked back sob, "so full of astonishment that you would even speak to him, much less be friendly."
"I liked Colin, he was good with that camera of his. Some of my favorite photos of Ron, Hermione and me were taken by him. He always had the unexpected stuff when he presented you with a picture. The sort of moments when you're just having a laugh with your mates. I'm going to miss him. He was a good sort. And he always believed in me," Harry added.
"I didn't want him to come back here," she said quietly. "After his first year, when he was frozen by that snake or whatever, I tried to get him to stay home, but he wouldn't hear of it." Mrs. Creevey spoke with a sad smile upon her face. "He told me that you had loads of worse things happen to you and that you kept going, you kept fighting. It was the first time I say my little boy start to mature and it made me realize this school was good for him, so I let him and his brother go back." The woman looked so much like little Colin, Harry almost couldn't bear to look at her. "When he came home a few years later, rattling on about Dumbledore's Army and everything you were teaching him, I was so worried, but I held my tongue because he was practically ecstatic about getting to know the great Harry Potter a bit better. Colin even sent us that odd little paper, the Quibbler or something or other. That was how we really understood what was going on, I tried to get him to stay home again, but he's such a stubborn lad, he gets it from his father, you know, he refused. 'I'm in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave of heart,' he spouted. 'I can't go run and hide. What good is having magic if I don't use it to help others. We all have to stand up and do something when we know its right. We can't keep ignoring the bad things, hoping they'll go away.'" Mrs. Creevey could barely speak, she was crying so hard. "My little boy was becoming a man, one who thought of others first and helped out when he could. Colin said that you taught him that, Harry Potter, so don't feel that you need to apologize to me. You gave him a glimpse of greatness and made him a hero. Whatever else happened, I thank you for that. He died fighting for what he believed, which is more than most of us will ever be able to say for ourselves." Having said all that, she allowed herself to be led away by her husband.
"Oy, Harry, comer over here, mate!" Ron shouted. "What's wrong with you? You have a weird look on your face," he said, when his best friend caught up with him.
"Nothing," Harry replied with a grin and it was true. In fact, he wasn't even confused anymore, speaking with Mrs. Creevey had assured him that it had indeed been a great day.