A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. Other prompts are listed below. :)
Psychology Task 12: Write about someone with speech difficulties.
Thanks to Kyrie for beta'ing!
Word Count: 896
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to JK Rowling.
Enjoy!
Dennis Creevey wasn't quite sure what he was doing in the Hog's Head. He'd ordered a butterbeer, but it was still sitting on the table, untouched. There were other patrons in the pub, but none paid him any mind, not that he wanted them to.
Dennis swallowed thickly, his attention consumed by the object he held in his hands—Colin's video camera. He'd received it on his fifteenth birthday, and had been so excited to test it out at Hogwarts. He hadn't taken many videos, but he'd loved the camera anyway. Dennis wished he could muster up the same love for the object, but all he could think when he saw it was how much he missed Colin.
Forteen was much too young to lose a brother; sixteen was much too young to die. Tears pricked at Dennis' blue eyes; more than anything, he wished that Colin would come bounding in, demanding to know why he'd left the castle without him.
But it wasn't to be.
Colin had always loved heroes; it was one of the reasons he'd admired Harry Potter so much. People who vanquished evil, who risked their lives to save a stranger's—there was nothing more honorable in Colin's eyes. Dennis turned the camera over in his hands, though they trembled; Colin had become a hero, but one only a few would remember. It wasn't fair.
He heard the scraping of a chair and looked up to see Aberforth Dumbledore, the owner of the pub, sitting down in the chair opposite him.
"All right there, lad?" he asked a bit gruffly. "You've been here a while."
Dennis flinched, wishing the old man wouldn't try to talk to him. "I-I'm fine."
Aberforth's blue eyes met his curiously. Dennis knew why he was confused—he and his brother used to come here all the time, and they'd never had trouble conversing with the man before. But when Colin died, so had Dennis' confidence; everything just seemed bleak without his brother.
"What's on your mind, lad?"
Dennis shook his head. "N-nothing," he lied. "Everything's o-okay."
Aberforth snorted. "More convincing folks than you have lied to me, boy. You can't fool me. What's eating you?"
Dennis set the video camera carefully on the table, avoiding the older man's gaze. "I'm only th-thinking. About—about…"
"About?" Aberforth prompted.
Dennis hung his head; it was too hard to lie to the younger Dumbledore—he knew him too well. "Colin," he admitted softly; it was the one word he never stuttered over.
Aberforth sighed and took off his glasses, one of the legs briefly getting caught on his grey beard. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Should've known," he muttered. "Listen, lad. Your brother was a brave boy; eager to please. That type of person… they don't always make it out."
Dennis' shoulders shook from the effort it took not to cry. "B-but why him? He d-didn't d-deserve—"
"Now think about that," Aberforth said a bit harshly. "If everyone who deserved to die did, then heroes would be the stuff of fiction and fairytales—the world wouldn't need 'em."
Dennis shook his head, his mousy brown hair falling in front of his face. "I j-just want m-my brother b-b-back."
Aberforth didn't respond.
Dennis hugged himself, frustrated at his grief and angry at his brother. He was so confused—why did Colin have to rush into the battle? Why hadn't he brought Dennis with him? Why was he so angry with Colin?
Aberforth slid the butterbeer towards Dennis. "Drink up, lad. By my experience, it doesn't get much better."
Colin shook his head weakly. When he spoke, the stutter he couldn't seem to move past escaped. "N-never?"
Aberforth shrugged, looking slightly annoyed. "You boys were closer than Albus and I ever were. But all your questions, everything you've always wished to know… there's no easy way to say it, lad. You can't know the answers. You… you missed your chance." Aberforth's eyes seemed a million miles away, and Dennis knew that the last bit hadn't been directed at him. He felt a pang in his chest; losing a brother, no matter how far apart you had grown, was always a terrible blow.
After a moment, he took a long sip of his butterbeer, but the warmth that spread through him wasn't nearly as comforting as it ought to have been. The young boy looked up at the old bartender, a frown on his face.
"I d-don't want to be angry-y with him. But it f-feels like something is missing."
Aberforth patted him roughly on the shoulder. "You're young, lad. You have time to find who you can be without him."
With those words, Aberforth stood up and left the boy alone.
Dennis looked down at his hands, a shudder running through his body. Colin was gone; the Dennis he had known destroyed. He was nervous now, and tired. He wished for the enthusiasm and joy he had felt when he was with his brother, but it seemed like a distant memory. What was left of him if the person who'd made him come alive was gone?
His blue eyes found the video camera once again.
Colin was dead; Dennis would just have to make do with the memories. The first step to finding himself again was to finally let his brother go. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
It was time to leave Colin to rest.
A/N: Prompts:
Writing Club:
Character Appreciation: 30. (action) lying
Book Club: Harrison — (word) hero, (word) fiction, (setting) a pub
Showtime: 9. Grief — (plot point) coming to terms with someone's death
Amber's Attic: 16. Rec — (object) video camera
Lyric Alley: 1. When you were here before
Ami's Audio Admirations: 8. Ghost - Ella Henderson — write about someone dwelling on the past.
Emy's Emporium: 2. (emotion) confused
Angel's Arcade: 6. Saberwulf — (word) trouble, (genre) angst, (title) Tortured Soul
Gris-Gris Bag:
(character) Dennis Creevey