Collin enjoyed photography for a specific reason. And that was so he would not forget the simple beauty of the world around him.
Others might not see it- him taking pictures of cracks in the wall, or a person walking down the hallway carrying a stack of books- but Collin could understand the beauty the image presented him.
The crack in the wall showed minuscule details of the foundation of Hogwarts, the walls crumbling slightly from all the wear and tear of students and teachers alike. It showed how much people cared about the school to keep using the old castle, the more something is used, the more it is loved. Collin saw that love, and with his trusty camera he kept by his side (once he got it back from the man in Diagon Alley who had to add a thing or two to make it work in Hogwarts barriers, although Collin had to decline the man's suggestion of adding moving pictures to it.) Collin snapped a picture in the wall to remind him of the love of the castle.
The person walking down the hallway showed elegance and style, despite holding onto a stack of books, she seemed unfrazzled, calmly walking towards her Common Room. Collin, who was walking by at that point in time, didn't take a second to whip out his camera and snap a photo of the beauty in front of him- not the girl herself, exactly, but of the sophistication her image presented. The way the books were steady in her hands, the way the robes flew out behind her in a floaty manner, and how poised each step with the overall gorgeousness of the simple and graceful factors made Collin take a picture.
After all, he did have an eye for detail.
But no one else could really understand the calmness and silent beautifulness that each image presented. Even if Collin had taken a picture of the duel between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in the year the Chamber of Secrets had been open, his picture showed a sense of motion and glowing lights shooting at one another- red, blue, purple, green- he showed the nature of the surroundings with just one click. His pictures were filled with emotion, with excitement, with calmness, with love.
Because Collin loved what he did, and his pictures were an extension of himself. His happiness, his joy, hid sadness, anger- with one little click he could show it, if his mood could make him take pictures of the shadows under a lit torch, or of seven quills spread out on a table in the Gryffindor Common room next to an unfinished essay. He could show his pride of his Quidditch team winning the House Cup, or of how frightened he felt when he took a picture of bright yellow eyes when trying to catch the chandelier's diamonds sparkling, which ended up with him being petrified.
He was his camera, and his camera was him. And he could ask for nothing better.
I don't own Harry Potter.
For Skeleton on the Hogwarts Olympic games.