Hero Worship
A/N: This is a very short stream-of-consciousness type thing that I wrote late last night (after sleeping over at SiriusLoverForLife's house; sleep deprivation might have had something to do with it). I hate Colin Creevy (which this is about), but you don't see many fics about him and I like writing about minor characters. Obviously, my interpretation of his thoughts is…interesting, but whatever.
Changes tenses. And no, slash is not implied in this.
Hero Worship
And oh, were Harry's eyes ever green. He had heard the stories, of course-everyone had-but everything was more magnificent in person and all he wanted was to talk to him, if only for a moment… But the green eyes slowly grew more and more troubling; he would never get to see them up close and had to resort to taking pictures-there's one of Harry scowling and Harry waving and Harry laughing and Harry crying and Harryharryharry means absolutely everything.
And now the green eyes haunt his dreams; they show him what used to be and what could come to be and oh-so-much more. And now he sees why heroes aren't accessible. Maybe it's not because the hero doesn't want to be; maybe it's because the worshipper is afraid of finding out too much.
(End)