-I do Not Own Harry Potter.-
This is supposed to take place at a nondescript time in Collin's first year.
There was a rustling of robes behind the door of the Potion Master's office, an intake of breath, and a sharp exhalation. A light scratching and moaning floated from the crack between door and floor. Collin Creevy reached tentatively for the doorknob of Snape's office, holding his own breath. Another Intake of breath. Another Sharp exhalation. Another bout of moaning. Collin shivered, his brown eyes wide, his face paling.
"P-Professor?" He simpered, rapping lightly on the door. A scuttle from within told him two people were inside, but no one responded. He breathed in deeply, and threw open the door. The sight that met him was inconceivable. The room was dark, several small candles illuminated something Collin could not make out in the centre of the room, but beyond the pool of light was nothing. The desk had been moved to one wall, two silhouettes lurked just beyond the light.
"CREEVY" A voice roared, candles set into brackets around the room blazed to life, Collin leapt back, one glance told him everything he needed to know. He turned swiftly on his heel, and ran pell-mell from the dungeon, not daring to glance back. He reached the entrance hall within seconds, students on their way to dinner stared as he streaked past them, up the marble staircase, down another corridor, weak winter sunlight streamed into the corridors, illuminating his path to the Gryffindor common room, his chest was heaving, his heart pounding so hard, he was sure it was about to explode. Portraits screamed reprimands, but he wasn't going to hear them. He gasped the password at the fat-lady: "Ladychums" and clambered inside, finally coming to rest on a chair set in the back of the common room. Students around him threw him curious glances, he sat there, breathing heavily, his brain reeling. Beads of sweat clung to his brow, as he hastily wiped them away, a feeling of dread and mortification filling him up. "I'm just….Going to go to bed.. Forget all about it…:" He muttered to himself, forcing his aching form into a standing position, and lumbering off to the dormitory. It was still early, barely 6pm. Collin dressed in pyjama's and laid alone in the empty dormitory, the hangings of his bed pulled around so he lay in muted darkness. An Hour passed by, the boys in his year all piled into the dormitory, pulling on pyjama's, laughing and taking, eyes untouched by putrid unsightly deeds.
"Oi, Collin! Is tha' you in there?" Came the rough voice of another first-year boy through the hangings. Collin didn't respond. He breathed deeply, pretending to be asleep. The boy scuttled away to laugh at his friend. How Collin wished sleep would envelop him, how he wished he could just forget…… Hours later still, lights clicked off in the dormitory, snores were met with calls of "goodnight" Collin lay awake, the scene replaying over ad over in his head. It was only a second, but how a second can ruin one's life. It was as though he had taken pictures, and pasted them on the inside of his eyelids. Professor Snape…Blowing…..
Sunlight poured into the dormitory, as the hangings of his bed were thrown back. Collin had apparently drifted into a restless sleep, and the other boys were apting to wake him.
"C'mon you lazy, get up!" A sandy-haired boy cried, chucking a pillow at him. It hit him in the head, and Collin rose, forcing a grin into his freckled face.
"Right-o, I'm up…" Collin dressed slowly, and left the dormitory for breakfast. Would he see Snape in the great hall? He realized with a lurch that he had him first class. His feet carried him down to the great hall, he sank into a place at the Gryffindor table, alone. Several other boys hailed him. And a girl, Ginny Weasley.
"Yesterday you seemed odd…" Said a voice in his ear. He turned around, Ginny had sat next to him. Collin poked at his porridge, not hungry.
"I was….I saw….Something." Collin said, not looking at her. It was much easier to stare at the lumpy grey porridge.
"Well, are you going to tell me?" Ginny said expectantly, drumming her fingers on the table. Collin bit his lip and looked into Ginny's face. Her glistening red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her face illuminated by a grin. Collin had to tell someone.
"I saw…Snape…" Collin Began.
"Snape?" Ginny said. "Well, I see him all the time, he's scary and all but--"
"Not just Snape. Lockheart too. They were together…" Collin cut in quickly. Ginny wrinkled her brow. "They were alone. In Snape's office. I went down to ask about an assignment…And I heard them." Ginny's eyes widened. "So I opened the door. I thought something had happened…" Ginny egged him on with a little nod. "The room was dark, except for a candle…" Ginny nodded furiously. "Snape yelled, and the candles around the room lit…And there was Lockheart…BLOWING." Collin Shouted this last word so loudly, half the table fell quiet, he mouthed wordlessly for a moment, as if trying to say something more. Ginny's mouth fell open in utter shock.
"SNAPE?" She Yelled back, her voice rising in shock. Collin opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"Uh…Well, it wasn't quite that Obscene." Collin said, his voice steady.
"Then WHAT?" Ginny asked eagerly.
"Balloons." Collin said in awe. Ginny raised her eyebrows.
"He was blowing….Ballons?" Ginny said. Then a look of comprehension dawned on her face. "Oh my GOSH. A balloon on Snape?" She gasped.
"Ginny! Where is your mind?" Collin asked, "He was blowing up Muggle Balloons. You know…The kind muggles use for parties?" Collin said, throwing her a searching stare. "I am frightened to death of balloons. Oh my, yes, one blew up in my face on my fourth birthday... And ever since…" He shivered.
"CREEVY." An icy voice echoed from behind them. Ginny and Collin turned. Snape was standing there, wearing his usual black robes,
"Your rude interruption on a very PRIVATE party I was holding has earned you 20 points from gryffindor." He hissed.
"But professor! Why was Professor Lockhart there?" Snape, who had turned his back to them to stride to the staff table, had frozen.
"He wished to discuss more PRIVATE matters with me. Not that it concerns you, Creevy." He strode away. Collin turned back to his porridge. Yesterday's event's playing dimly in the back of his head. Lockheart standing there, Blowing up a large blue balloon, a cake had sat in the centre of the room, which was littered with streamers and other balloons. But there's still the matter of the low moan. Where had that come from?