VICTIMS OF FURY
Androktasia
Summary: "When wizards die, they can come back as ghosts to say their goodbyes," Dennis tells them. "Tell him we love him," Mum says. "He already knew that."
Disclaimer: These characters and this universe belong to the most magnificent and holy JK Rowling. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Warnings: None
Word count: ~1,000
Rating: K+
Author's Notes: This story just exploded in my brain.
XXX
Then the fearful Herod cried,
'Pow'r is mine in Jewry!'
So the blameless children died
The victims of his fury, the victims of his fury.
—Unto Us A Boy Is Born; traditional
X
Dennis can split his life into two halves. Before his brother died, and afterwards.
X
When the official owl comes from the Ministry, Dennis isn't there. He's at the Hogwarts memorial service. He listens to Harry Potter listing the names of those who died, in alphabetical order, and with every name that's read out he hates the Death Eaters a little bit more.
"…Colin Creevey…" Harry Potter says, and he can't listen any more because it hurts so much. Because that's what his brother is now, a name on a list. A corpse in a morgue.
Dead.
X
McGonagall asks him if he wants to bury his brother in the new Hogwarts graveyard.
Dennis runs away, and only lets himself break down in the safety of his dormroom.
X
When he gets home, Mum is shaking and crying and clutching the letter in her hands like a lifeline. Dad is sitting on the sofa with a blank look in his eyes. Dennis can hardly bear to look at them; it's just another reminder of what he's lost. What they've lost.
He pries the letter from Mum's hands because he has to see what they've said.
Dear Mr and Mrs Creevey,
We regret to tell you that on the 2nd of May, 1998, your son, Colin, was killed in combat at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…
He stands there for a while, reading the letter again and again. Memorising it. Then he just stands there.
"It was the Avada Kedavra, you know," Dennis says, breaking the silence. Mum looks up. Dad doesn't move. He feels his voice sticking. "Entirely painless. He wouldn't have felt a thing." He can't look at them any more, so he leaves the room.
X
He's lying. It was the Entrail-Expelling curse. He was cut open from shoulder to torso. They think it was Dolohov. But it doesn't matter because he's been told that the Healers can make it look like he is sleeping.
X
"It's not fair!" Mum screams at him. "He was my son! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE MAGIC, WHY CAN'T YOU FIX HIM?"
Dad just sits there.
Dennis doesn't know which is worse. So he walks away.
X
In all of his nightmares he sees those blank, dead eyes, a face coated in blood. They'd asked him to identify his body before he could be taken home. In the dream the corpse wakes up, fixes its eyes on him, and grins, bearing sharpened teeth as it jumps towards him.
Dennis wakes up sweating.
X
He hasn't been in his brother's bedroom since the letter. He goes there now and reaches under the bed, past all the detritus that lies under it, until his scrabbling fingers find the box.
His brother's box.
He pulls it towards himself and opens it reverently. Of all his brother's photographs, only the ones he considered to be the best would go in the box.
With trembling hands he pulls out the first image. A magic photo, moving, of Dennis, Mum and Dad. The first one he ever took with an enchanted camera. A choked sob escapes Dennis's throat.
A similar sound comes from the doorway, and, alarmed, he looks up.
Dad is standing there. He hesitates, and walks in. They go through the photos together.
But Dad still doesn't say anything.
X
The funeral is the worst thing.
The coffin is open, and Dennis has to admit that the Healers have done a fine job. Everyone gathers in the church, and everyone isn't very many. Mum and Dad, a few cousins that Dennis hasn't seen in years, and Ginny Weasley and her father. Dennis doesn't know who invited her. He doesn't ask.
The vicar says the words rhythmically. Dennis doesn't hear them. The noise of the birds outside distracts him. Of life.
Mum's right. It's not fair.
X
"Harry wanted to come," Ginny Weasley says afterwards. Dennis snorts. "No, honestly," she says.
Then why didn't he? Dennis wants to ask. He looks at his feet.
There's a pause. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry," she pats him awkwardly on the shoulder and leaves with her dad. He hears them Apparating away.
Secretly, he doesn't think it's worth much at all.
X
At home, the atmosphere is thick, cloying. His parents are holding each other up, and once again, Dennis feels like an outsider.
It was always the two of them, before.
"When wizards die, they can come back as ghosts to say their goodbyes," Dennis tells them. "Muggles can't see them."
Mum looks up, her eyes shining with tears. "What? I— what?My son is a ghost?" Dennis nods, looking away. "And— he's here now?"
He nods again.
"Why hasn't he come before?" Dennis blinks. It's the first time Dad has spoken since he read the letter.
He swallows. "They can't— appear until they've been put to rest."
"As in…?"
"Buried, yeah."
"You have to— to tell him we love him," Mum says, her voice urgent. "Make sure to tell him."
Dennis smiles sadly. "I think he already knew that."
"Tell him we'll never forget him," Dad whispers.
"I— he can hear you," Dennis says.
"Where is he?" Dad speaks louder this time.
"He's sat on the table," Dennis tells them, and they both turn and look at the table, eyes set at the height his brother's eyes would be.
Mum speaks, at first slow, but speeding up.
"Colin, my baby, you know I love you— I wish you were here every day, I wish you were her so much, darling. I've kept your room tidy, and your photographs are all organised, no one's touched them. If you were here…"
He stops listening again, and just watches. His parents are alive for the first time since the letter, laughing, crying. Speaking rushed declarations of love and promises to remember.
Dennis will remember.
Dennis can't forget.
And only Dennis knows that Colin isn't there.
