For QL, round 3
Captain, Falmouth Falcons
Prompt: center your story around something a character is passionate about
Word Count: 2754
one
Dennis loves Christmas, but he knows it's different for them. At age six, he already knows that there isn't a Santa Claus. There are no mysterious, elegantly wrapped presents beneath the tree–only two simple ones with tags written in their dad's scribble.
He knows his dad does the best he can. Even though he's a kid, he can see the hard work that goes into it. Most of the presents they've gotten over the years have been secondhand, but Dennis always loves them.
"Here we go," their father says, reaching for the the gifts and handing them over. "One for Col and one for Den. Go ahead. Open them."
Dennis tears through the red paper, letting it fall to the carpet. A broad smile spreads across his face as he sees the toy robot he's been wanting since September. The best part is that it's in the box and clearly brand new; brand new presents are a real treat.
"What have you got?" he asks, eager to see what shiny new toy his brother has.
There is no toy. Instead, Colin holds a camera in his hand, and his smile so bright. Dennis doesn't think he'd be happy to get a camera instead of a toy, but Colin has always been a bit silly.
"It was your mum's before she died," their father says, pushing a hand through his fair, thinning hair. "I know you've wanted one. I'm sorry I couldn't get you anything new."
Colin doesn't answer. Blue eyes alight with joy, he lifts the camera.
Click!
There's a bright flash. Dennis drops his robot, lifting his arms to shield his eyes, but it's several seconds too late. "Colin!"
"Come on, Den," his brother says eagerly, bouncing with excitement. "It's Christmas! You're supposed to take pictures of Christmas!"
Click!
Another flash causes green blobs to float in front of Dennis' eyes. His squeezes them closed, but the green is still there.
Click!
He isn't even taking pictures of anything. In a normal family environment, Dennis would be holding his robot and proudly displaying for his future self to to look back on and laugh. He doesn't. He just stands there, shielding his eyes, his irritation growing.
"Save some film, kiddo," their dad chuckles, reaching down and affectionately ruffling Colin's hair. "It isn't unlimited, you know."
Dennis finally reaches down and plucks his toy from the floor, slowly peeling away the box. His excitement is gone. The constant click, click, click of the camera has ruined the moment.
Click!
"Come on." Colin lifts the camera again. "You're supposed to smile."
Dennis doesn't. He just sighs and shakes his head. He's never seen his brother so excited about anything until now. Maybe he's happy for Colin too, but all he can do is hope the older boy's new obsession fades soon.
two
Click!
Dennis groans, the bright flash drawing him from his sleep. He sits up, rubbing his eyes and wondering if maybe there's a storm and lightning has woken him.
Colin sits at the foot of his bed, camera in hand. It isn't surprising, really. Dennis can't remember the last time he's seen his brother go anywhere without his camera. His obsession has only grown, and photography seems to consume everything that Colin does.
"What…" Dennis yawns, stretching his thin arms. "What time is it?"
"Half past four in the morning," Colin answers, and his voice is too cheerful for someone who is awake so early. "I'm going to Hogwarts soon."
Click!
At least Colin doesn't snap pictures so randomly anymore. He has learned to focus and find the perfect angle. Still, even if he's mastered his technique, it doesn't make any of it less annoying.
"So you have to take pictures of me?" Dennis asks, unable to hide his grumpiness. He only wants to sleep a few more hours, but if Colin is up, there's no way either of them will be going back to bed.
"It's gonna be months before I see you again!" Colin lifts his camera, carefully lining up the shot. "What if I miss your stupid face and want to see you?"
Click!
It's been three years. His eyes should have adjusted to the flash, but it still leaves little floating orbs of color in his vision. "My face isn't stupid."
"Is so. Trust me; I'm a photographer," he says with a smirk. "I have an eye for this type of thing."
"You only want to be a photographer."
He has to admit that Colin is good. His brother has spent so much time reading about new photography techniques and studying other people's photos. Maybe he could be a photographer one day. Dennis just hopes he won't be dragged into it somehow. Hopefully Colin will find willing models who won't care about that annoying flash.
"Gonna miss me?" Colin asks.
Click!
Dennis manages to lift his middle finger just in time. Colin scowls for just a fraction of a second before giggling.
"I asked if you're gonna miss me, Den."
Click!
Click!
Click!
Most older brothers prefer to give wedgies and swirlies to their younger siblings. Colin's preferred method of torture is merciless camera flashes.
"Stop!" Dennis grabs a pillow and throws it over his head. "Yes, I'm gonna miss you!"
The bed shifts ever so slightly as Colin leans forward and pulls the pillow away. "I'll miss you too," he says.
Dennis means it when he says he's going to miss Colin. His brother is his best friend, and he hates the idea of having to go even a few months without him.
Still, he isn't going to miss that bloody camera one bit.
three
Colin's first letter comes a week after he starts at Hogwarts. It's filled with incredible stories about strange creatures and magic, but his brother's favorite subject seems to be a boy named Harry Potter.
The letter is so long and rambling that it's incredibly thick whenever folded. However, the bulk of the parcel comes from the photographs.
Dennis looks through them, bright eyes wide as he shuffles through images. His favorites are of a beautiful castle and a lake with a giant tentacle emerging from the dark, rippled water. The strangest part is that the photographs seem to move. Dennis blinks again and again, trying to correct his vision. The tentacle still sways, almost like it's waving at the camera.
It's hard to believe Colin has only been gone for a week. Even without the bizarre movement within the photographs, it's clear that Colin has learned new tricks. Each photograph has clearly been taken with care. All angles have been planned out, and the lighting is just right.
It's clear that Colin has become more than just an annoying kid with a camera. Even if he's only eleven, Colin is a proper photographer. It isn't just a silly hobby to pass the time; it's his brother's passion, his life's calling.
Still, it doesn't make sense. Colin is a wizard now. He should be focusing on magical things like dragons and potions, not running around with his camera, taking pictures of every single thing he sees. Maybe Colin is a skilled photographer, but he is also so much more than that.
Dennis shakes his head as he carefully collects the photographs and stacks them in a neat pile and sets them on the corner of his desk. He hopes this won't get in the way of Colin becoming the best wizard of all time.
four
This is so ridiculously outside of Dennis' skill level. It doesn't matter that Harry is a brilliant teacher; Dennis is only a second year, and they haven't even mentioned the Disarming Charm in any of his classes. His hands tremble as he grips his wand and faces the older Hufflepuff girl.
"Don't worry," she says kindly, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She offers him a soft smile. "I'll go easy on you."
Dennis scowls at that. Just because he is still shaky and hesitant where the spell is concerned, doesn't mean he he wants to be treated like a child. He's twelve, not two!
His grip tightens on his wand, and he adjusts his posture, standing tall and proud. He raises his wand, pointing at the older girl. Taking a deep breath, he steadies himself, opens his mouth, and–
Click!
The camera's flash comes so suddenly and catches Dennis off guard. He drops his wand and stumbles backwards, barely managing to steady himself in time. Colored orbs of light swim in his vision, and he rubs his eyes.
"Colin!"
His brother grins at him, holding up his camera proudly. "You should have seen how amazing you looked!" he says. "I couldn't have asked for a better pose."
"Aren't you supposed to be practicing?" Dennis grumbles, snatching up his wand.
"I was. Ginny managed to take my wand ten times out of ten." The older boy chuckles and pushes a hand through his blond curls, offering Dennis a sheepish smile. "I don't think I'm very good at it, to be honest."
He knows that this is Colin's greatest passion. For nearly six years, Colin has kept that camera around his neck and taken so many pictures. It's part of who he is, and Dennis loves his brother and really does accept it. Still, it doesn't make it any less frustrating.
The worst part is that those around them don't seem to see what's wrong with it. They laugh and say it's so sweet that Colin wants to take pictures of his little brother. A few girls mention wanting to be models and ask if Colin will take their pictures; Colin happily obliges.
Dennis steps back, leaning against the wall and watching as his brother does what he does best.
Click!
There's a flash, and the girls giggle.
"I'm next!"
Dennis sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. Colin is happy and doing something he loves. That will have to be enough to ease Dennis' irritation.
Besides, at least Dennis isn't stuck as Colin's model anymore.
five
It's cold and miserable. Dennis remembers when a snowfall meant he and Colin would run wild, building snowmen and waging endless war in epic snowball fights. Now, it's just a depressing reminder that they have had to sacrifice everything in order to stay safe.
No more staying outside until they're frozen to the bone. No more going inside and sitting in front of the heater while their dad fixes them his famous hot cocoa. They're on the run now, permanently living in fear that another Snatcher might find them. Those days of wintry bliss and laughter are far behind them.
He rubs his hands together, but it does little to keep him warm. His gloves are worn out and full of holes that let the freezing wind bite his skin. By now, it seems that every piece of clothing they own has become raggedy and useless.
Dennis wants nothing more than to stop for a few hours, build a fire, and break into the canned food in their bags, but he knows it's too dangerous. They have to move during the day and set up camp at night. The last time they stopped to rest in the middle of the afternoon, a group of Snatchers had found them; they had barely managed to escape, and Dennis had sprained his ankle badly in the process.
"Remember when we were kids?" Colin asks, somehow still smiling, even as the wind whips against his face and leaves his pale, freckled cheeks red and raw.
Dennis scowls. It's easy to remember because they still are kids. Even though this stupid war has made them grow up too fast, he is still only fourteen and Colin is sixteen. Once, he might have thought being a teenager meant being grown, but he has become all too aware that it means still being lost and vulnerable.
"Dad took us sledding once," Colin says with a laugh. "You nearly threw up when we went down the hill."
"Please don't…"
The memories are too painful, and Dennis feels like his heart is being ripped apart. All he wants to do is keep moving until they're safe. Nostalgia has no place in their lives anymore.
Click!
The flash hurts his eyes. Dennis looks away, blinking rapidly. "Colin, stop!"
Click!
"Cheer up, Den," Colin says, and there's another click. "You used to love the snow."
When Dennis' vision clears, he turns back to his brother, glaring at him. He wishes Colin would have left his camera behind. They're fugitives. Why would Colin want to document this? It isn't like he'll develop the photos one day and reminisce about how fun it was to have death hanging over their heads every single day.
But Colin has kept his camera at the ready. Somehow, even as the world falls apart around them, Colin has found beauty in the smallest things. Over the past few months, he's used up at least three rolls of film, snapping pictures of oddly-shaped trees, interesting insects, and anything else that has caught his attention.
It isn't surprising. Even on the worst days, Colin is still a photographer. It's just what he does.
Dennis sighs. He shouldn't be so hard on his brother. Photography is one of the only things that gives Colin a sense of normalcy. At least he's able to continue with his passion, even as the war wages.
"Come on, Col." Dennis wraps an arm around his brother. "Let's keep going."
Click!
Dennis grits his teeth an endures the flash. Colin is happy, and that's all that should matter.
plus one
The Hog's Head is crowded, but no one tries to join Dennis at his table. Even as a flood of people storm in, laughing, cheering, and talking about their victory, Dennis manages to avoid any company. He doesn't mind. He's waiting for Colin to join the other fighters. They'll laugh and have a few butterbeers while Colin tells him fantastic stories about the battle.
He waits. It's been fifteen minutes since word of their victory first reached the pub. Maybe Colin has gotten sidetracked. Maybe he's become such a great hero that he's having to find a way around his adoring fans.
He wonders if Colin took any pictures during the battle. A grin tugs at his lips as he imagines it. Nothing could ever keep Colin from finding something to photograph, not even the most important battle of their lifetime.
He waits. Aberforth asks if he needs another drink, but Dennis shakes his head. He's already had two butterbeers and needs to save room for when his brother joins him.
Time passes slowly. His watch tells him that an hour has passed, but it feels like an eternity.
"Dennis?" The voice is familiar, but it isn't Colin.
He looks up to see Neville Longbottom. The older boy is battered, bruised, and covered in blood, but he manages a smile that Dennis knows all too well.
When his mother had died from cancer, the doctors and nurses had worn that same smile. Dennis hates it. It's a kind smile, and he thinks Neville's is maybe genuine, but it's full of pity that he never asked for. He doesn't have to speak for Dennis to understand.
"How did it happen?" Dennis asks, trying to remember how to make his lungs work again. He sucks in a shaky breath, but it stings his chest.
"I don't know," Neville admits, looking down at his trembling hands. "I found him beneath some rubble. Oliver and I carried him out."
Dennis' stomach twists as acid snakes its way up his throat. He swallows it down and shakes his head. Colin never was good at defensive spells. He should have tried harder to make him stay.
"I thought you might want this." Neville reaches in his bag.
The camera is covered in fine, dust-like debris, and there's blood splattered on the strap–Dennis briefly wonders if it's his brother's blood, but he doesn't want the answer–but he would recognize that camera anywhere. He accepts and pulls it close, examining it. The lens is cracked, but it's an easy enough fix with magic. He could have it back up and functional before the day is over.
But it won't do any good; Colin isn't here to use it. He's spent so much time shying away from the camera, so annoyed by his brother's favorite pastime. Now that it's too late, he wishes his brother would take his picture one last time.