Author's Note: I'm fully aware that Colin Creevey died in the Battle of Hogwarts, but for the purpose of this story, let's just pretend that he didn't, alright? ;)
Brotherly Support
Gabrielle Delacour gazed at herself in the ornate mirror that stood at one end of the bridal suite, finding herself suddenly questioning every aspect of her life—every decision she'd ever made that had somehow led her to be there right then, on arguably the most important and life-changing day of her entire life.
Her wedding day.
A beautiful but drastically pale face stared back somewhere beneath the masses of golden curls and the frilly ivory of the ridiculously ornamental and overkill veil her mother had insisted upon her wearing. The girl in the reflection stood tall and unfaltering, her posture as stiff as china, her skin as delicate as porcelain.
But despite her misleadingly calm demeanour, a storm raged in those glassy eyes. Premarital nerves?—Gabrielle questioned internally. But surely no bride was supposed to feel that uncertain about her impending nuptials.
Gabrielle wasn't startled when another presence entered the room. She observed her sister, Fleur, in the mirror as she came through the door, only turning her head and dragging her eyes away from her wide-eyed reflection after she had firmly closed it behind her.
"You look beautiful, Gaby," Fleur insisted, staring at her petite sister with all the love and awe she was accustomed to. The Delacour girls were never short of awe and admiration, their Veela genes being considered both a blessing and curse by themselves.
When Gabrielle didn't respond, but merely regarded her older sister with a wistful gaze full of both sorrow and longing, Fleur rushed to her side, sisterly concern etched into her face. "What's wrong?" she asked gently. "Don't you believe me?"
There were two questions Gabrielle desperately wanted to ask, both of great sentimental importance. "Did you feel nervous at all before your wedding?" Gabrielle asked so quietly it was almost a whisper, answering neither of Fleur's questions.
Fleur looked dazed but relaxed slightly. "Of course," she replied. "Every bride does, Gaby; it's perfectly normal."
But Gabrielle felt something heavy drop in her stomach, even beneath the numerous layers of netting and lace.
"It's a big commitment," Fleur said gently. "It's no surprise you're scared right now. I was in your position once too. I had all these doubts—whether I'd make a good wife, whether I was too young, whether I was really ready to make such a huge commitment…"
And yet, she'd still walked down the aisle, Gabrielle mused to herself. But then again, of the Delacour sisters, it always had been Fleur that possessed bravery. Beauty, grace, intelligence, and kindness were traits they both shared in abundance—but bravery? No, the scale had always tipped in Fleur's favour.
"How did you get through it?" Gabrielle asked with an unavoidable gulp.
A soft, warm smile spread across Fleur's face, love and happiness twinkling in her eyes. "I thought of Bill," she said tenderly. "I thought of me in his arms; of him down on one knee; him waking up and smiling at me every single morning; him holding our newborn baby in his arms…"
"You don't have a baby," Gabrielle pointed out in alarm. She glanced down at her sister's flat waist, concealed by the soft pink silk of her bridesmaid's dress. Was she trying to tell her something?
"No," Fleur laughed in the soft way that she did. "No, but I saw it all—my whole life with him. Our life. Together," she said dreamily. "I could picture every sunrise, every kiss, our children, our grandchildren. And mostly," she sighed, so caught up in her own bubble of happiness that Gabrielle felt immensely jealous, "I could see him at the altar, watching me as I walked down the aisle with nothing but love in his eyes and in his heart. And by that time, I was so desperate to marry him I was practically sprinting down the aisle!"
Gabrielle laughed along with her sister, but it was full of unease. She had been by her sister's side during her wedding. She had seen the look of love on Bill's face, surely far more intense than Fleur had ever been able to conjure in her daydream. And what's more is that she had seen Fleur's face too, as she'd floated down the aisle to her beloved, like a dainty feather caught in a summer's breeze.
And no matter how hard Gabrielle tried to picture it, no matter how desperately she tried to think of her intended with the same affection that adorned Fleur's face, she couldn't do it. Her heart seemed to sigh in her chest as another figure and face filled her mind. The man that she envisioned at the altar was not the man she happened to be engaged to.
"Gaby," Fleur said gently, noticing her sister's distracted attitude, "are you sure you're okay?"
"Of course," Gabrielle lied, pretending to smooth down her dress to avoid looking Fleur in the eye.
But Fleur looked troubled, and less than convinced. "Gabrielle," she said seriously, "You mean more to me than anybody else in this world—you understand that, right? I will not let you walk down that aisle if you're not one hundred percent certain that this is what you really want."
"Of course this is what I want," Gabrielle lied again, snapping at Fleur more viciously than she'd intended to. Fleur was just concerned for her, that was all, she scolded herself. She forced a smile at her older sister, feigning tranquillity and light-hearted joy. "Why wouldn't it be?"
Fleur's concerned frown only deepened. "Well, because of…" She trailed off, looking embarrassed.
Gabrielle winced. That was one of the drawbacks of having a sister you were so close with—the ability to sense emotion she'd never shared, thoughts she's never spoken aloud. She quickly composed herself, holding her head high as though it had never happened.
"Is, umm," Gabrielle muttered quietly, the second question she had so desperately wanted to ask. "Is he here?" she finished, trying not to sound hopeful, but vague and only casually interested.
Fleur wrung her hands together nervously and glanced down at the floor. When she returned her gaze to her younger sister, it was full of pity and apology. "No," she said quietly. "No, he's not."
"What are you doing here?" Colin demanded, taking his younger brother by surprise. Dennis spat out the mouthful of coffee he'd just taken, all over the Daily Prophet that rested on the breakfast table, much to the Holyhead Harpies'—the featured photo in the Quidditch section he'd happened to be reading—disgust. Gwenog Jones shook an angry fist at him.
"I live here, Colin," Dennis said irritably. He'd rather been enjoying the article and the peaceful tranquillity of the kitchen. It had been distracting him from… other things.
"Don't be an idiot," Colin snapped, uncharacteristically riled up. "You know full well what I'm talking about."
"No, I don't," Dennis denied, thoroughly unconvincing as he attempted to mop up some of the spilt beverage. "Why shouldn't I be here?" he asked. "Reading the Prophet, enjoying a lovely cup of coffee? Where else could I possibly want to be right now?"
"Gabrielle's wedding," Colin said unforgivingly.
Dennis was so startled by his bluntness that he nearly sent the coffee mug crashing to the floor. "I, err, what?" he gulped.
"Gabrielle Delacour, your best friend's, wedding," Colin hissed, folding his arms across his chest in a huffy manner.
"I didn't know that was today," Dennis mumbled.
"Oh, don't give me that! Yes, you did! This date has been etched into your mind ever since she sent you the damn invitation," Colin accused. "You've been counting down the days. There is no way in hell you did not know it was today!"
"Look, what do you want from me?" Dennis demanded, turning on his heel to glare at his older brother. "What do you expect me to do?"
Colin narrowed his eyes, unperturbed by his brother's sudden fit of rage. "I expect you to pull yourself together, and support your best friend on the biggest day of her life! Look at you," he scoffed, "cowering away in your kitchen whilst she's out there getting married. What kind of friend does that make you?"
"You know full well why I can't go to Gabrielle's wedding," Dennis furiously accused. His voice cracked in a heartbreaking way. "It's too hard…"
"You owe it to her, Dennis," Colin said, suddenly softening his tone. "You owe it to her to support her, or at least"—he paused, looking uncomfortable—"you owe her an explanation. You owe it to her to tell her how you really feel."
"I can't!" Dennis refused, looking horrified.
"Dennis," Colin said firmly, "you are hopelessly in love with her—you have been for years! You can't just let her walk away without ever letting her know how you really feel. She could change her mind—she could be making a mistake!"
"I can't," Dennis said miserably. "I can't ruin her big day, alright? This is the happiest day of her life." The very thought made him feel sick. He shook his head in dismay. "I can't do that to her…"
Colin made his way over to the table so he was stood in front of his younger brother, only about a head taller than him despite the two-year age gap. "I've seen the two of you together since the day you met her, and it's blindingly clear for everyone to see, believe me—you are made for each other, Dennis."
"Don't," Dennis pleaded. It was too painful to hear.
He had been enchanted by Gabrielle since the first time he'd ever laid eyes on her, way back in his Hogwarts' years when she'd had to play her part in the Triwizard Tournament for her sister's benefit. It had been by sheer chance that he'd encountered her again. He had thought nothing of it when he'd agreed to accompany Colin to Harry and Ginny Potter's wedding—he'd never have thought the bride's sister-in-law's younger sister would have changed his life in quite the way that she had.
He was certain, if at all possible, that he had fallen in love with her instantly.
For the past few years, they'd been closer than ever, almost like they'd been friends their whole life, but it had never once developed into romance. He had been too afraid to take that risk, and he had been so certain she only ever looked at him in the light of friendship.
It had been easier to cut himself out of her life when the engagement was announced. He simply could not watch her marry another man.
"Dennis," Colin tried again, "I really think you should do something. You haven't talked to her in months—she must be beside herself with worry and confusion. You need to get over this and support her in the way she deserves, or do the honourable thing and tell her why you've completed abandoned her."
"Tell her?" Dennis repeated in a strained voice. "Tell her that I'm in love with her? On her wedding day!?"
Colin shrugged and offered a reassuring smile. "When else are you going to get the chance?"
"I—no," Dennis replied decisively, shaking his head. "I'm not going to do this to her on her wedding day—I won't ruin this for her!"
"Your absence is going to ruin it for her anyway!" Colin snapped. "You, her best friend, completely cut her out of your life with literally no explanation. She probably misses you, Dennis. I'll bet she misses you more than you realise."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Colin rolled his eyes at his little brother's obliviousness. "Dennis, has it ever occurred to you that Gabrielle might just feel for you the way you feel for her?"
"Of course not!" Dennis spluttered. "Don't be absurd!" Just the very idea of somebody like Gabrielle, impossibly beautiful, kind, funny, and, well, flawless, returning his affections was laughable. Was Colin making fun of him?
But Dennis knew his brother well. They had always been so much more than just brothers. Up until he'd met Gabrielle, Colin had been his best friend. He had guided him through the most difficult of times, supported him when he'd needed it, made him smile, made him laugh...
Colin had never lied to Dennis before, had never so much as yelled at him. The fact that he was so aggravated right then in the kitchen should have been indication enough that he genuinely believed what he was suggesting.
"I told you, I've seen you together, and anybody who's seen you two together would have to be blind not to notice the blatant chemistry that—"
"She's marrying another man, Colin," Dennis interrupted in a weak, broken voice. That was the reality of it.
"And what are you going to do about it?" Colin demanded.
"Look, if she really cared for me in the way I do for her, she wouldn't be walking down the aisle to another man right now!"
"You haven't talked to her in months—you don't know how she really feels about this wedding," Colin retaliated in an encouraging tone. "I'm telling you, Dennis, she's probably just waiting for you to burst in."
But there was too much doubt in Dennis' heart. Gryffindor he may well be, but like Gabrielle, he certainly didn't possess the bravery his older sibling did. Not even close.
"Dennis," Colin said fiercely, placing his hands on either side of his brother's shoulders and staring him dead in the eye, "I am not speaking to you as your brother but as your friend. There is nothing to lose here! You've already cut her out—you've already accepted the idea that she might spend the rest of her life with this other guy. But you can't take the chance of never knowing. True happiness could very well be within you reach," he said wisely. "You just need to have the courage to go for it."
Dennis shifted from one foot to the other, staring at Colin's expression of kindness and encouragement. When had his guidance ever led him astray before? "You really think I should go for it?" he asked breathlessly.
"Whatever happens, Dennis, whether all your dreams come true or she shoots you down in front of everybody, I will be there to support you. I'll be right by your side, in whatever way you need me, no matter what happens. Okay?"
Dennis swallowed the lump in his throat. "Okay," he said bravely, beaming back at him. "I'm gonna go for it!"
Colin pulled his brother into a tight hug, letting out a triumphant whoop of delight. Dennis suddenly felt himself pushed away with force.
"Take my camera," Colin ordered, holding Dennis at arm's length once more.
"What?"
"You can pretend you're the photographer if anybody tries to stop you from getting in," he explained excitedly.
"Colin, I do have an invitation, you know," Dennis laughed.
Colin looked dazed. "Oh, right, yeah," he mumbled.
But this, more than anything, was what filled Dennis with unbridled confidence and determination. The fact that his brother would let him so much as touch his most prized possession in order to use it as a prop to crash somebody's wedding filled him with so much appreciation and brotherly love that he felt like he could do anything.
And so, it was with an uncontainable grin, and the reassurance of his brother's unwavering support, that Dennis Creevey had the courage to go after the girl of his dreams, prepared for whatever may happen.
Originally written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 3—Round 2
Team: Holyhead Harpies
Position: Captain
Task: Write about a familial friendship (Colin and Dennis Creevey)
