AN: I feel these characters get overlooked a lot, and I've always found they would make a very cute couple. In this fic, at this moment, Dennis is 14, and Gabrielle is 12. They aren't together yet, I just want to explain how they met.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Duhh.

Enjoy.

Dennis Creevey

The battle was over, yet also just begun.

My brother, my one and only brother, had died in the battle. We tried to tell him not to go in, we tried to tell him he was underage, but he didn't listen and went in anyway, saying his hero Harry Potter was in there and he wanted to do anything at all to help him. Harry Potter was my hero, too, but I stayed where I was needed. And now my best friend is dead.

My father is crying over his mashed potatoes, the tears falling silently down his thin, weary face. Mother is sobbing publicly, not allowing anyone to comfort her. She says she just needs to cry it out. It breaks my heart to see so many people around me crying, but sadly, there is nothing I can really do. Collin was always the plan maker.

Somehow, I can't find it in myself to cry. I miss him immensely, don't get me wrong, but I'm still in shock. And I kind of feel like he wouldn't want me to cry, that he would want me to move on. So that's what I decided to do. Of course, that probably means I'll be crying later, but now, I guess it's not what I need.

My family aren't the only ones grieving. The Weasley family is crying over Fred, the Death Eaters have left, but not before I saw them grieve Bellatrix and Voldemort, the teachers are silently missing Snape, and the Order of the Phoenix is remembering Tonks and Remus. It's a bad day for all of us, if I do say so myself.

"Salut?" I hear a voice beside me. I'm utterly surprised. I didn't even know someone was sitting next to me. I look up and my eyes go automatically wide.

She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Her long, thin, silver-blond hair is in one single braid, reaching down to the middle of her back. She's pale, but emits a glow all around her. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are a bright sort of blue silver I've never seen before. She's thin, but not too thin, and though she looks very young, she looks mature for her age.

"Hello?" I reply, with the same questioning tone she used. I am so nervous to talk to her. I must look like a big ugly bug compared to that kind of beauty.

"Je m'appelle Gabrielle Delacour." She extends a hand and smiles. For a minute, I forget everything around me. I take her hand in mine. He skin is so soft!

"I don't speak French." I say, and her little face falls. She scrunches it up for a moment, deep in thought.

"I don't speak eenglish very often, mais – but - for you, je – I – will try." He English is slow and sort of choppy. "I am Gabrielle Delacour. And you?"

I laugh and say "Dennis Creevey."

"Dénis?" She says, her eyes brightening.

"No, Dennis." I laugh.

"But I can say Dénis!" She sighs. " 'Ere I be, trying to speak eenglish for you, and you laugh and tease me!" She looks on the verge of tears. I rush to fix it.

"No no, I'm not laughing at that! I'm laughing because it's cute, and I appreciate you trying." I say, smiling. Color rises in her already flushed cheeks, a shy smile on her lips. "You can call me Dénis if you want."

"Okay." She smiles. "Do you remember ze Triwizard Tournament?"

"Yes. Why?" She laughs.

"My seester was a champion. Fleur Delacour?"

"Ah! That's right! That's where I've seen you before. You were the one Harry pulled out of the lake!"

"Yes, zat was me. I was only nine at ze time. I was very scared." She sighs. "She married recently. She married Bill Weasley. I was a bridesmaid. I wore a beautiful golden gown. I was happy for her. But..."

"But what?" I ask dreamily. I try not to imagine how beautiful she would be in a dress. She can't be more than twelve! And I do not want to be a pervert.

"I just, I meess her. She was my best friend, ze one I told everyzing too. And now, she as good as gone!"

"I know how you feel." I mutter, and start to eat my forgotten food. It's a little cold, but I don't really care.

"You have older brozer or seester who got married?" She says.

"No... my brother died in the Battle a few minutes ago." I grumble. I look at her and see tears swelling in her bright eyes.

"Oh, je suis horrible! Oh, Dénis, I am sorry I brought it up! 'Ere I am, complaining about 'ow I do not see my seester, when you lost your brozer! I am so sorry! I am terrible!" She puts her head in her hands and promptly burst into tears.

"Oh, oh no, Gabrielle, don't cry!" I take her tiny, shaking body in my arms and hold her as she continues to cry. "Don't cry! I'm not even crying! You didn't insult me, you didn't do anything wrong. You didn't know. It's okay." I rub her shoulder soothingly.

She looks up from my chest, her red eyes breaking my heart. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, I am certain! Stop crying." I hug her, and she sits up straight, drying her eyes daintily with a napkin.

"One zing, Dénis." She says and looks right into my eyes. "I'm sure your brozer was a good person."

"He was, believe me." I sigh and poke a little at my food. Suddenly I'm not hungry.

"Gabrielle, on s'en va! Dit au revoir a ton ami puis on décolle!" Her mother, a slightly bigger version of her, waved her hand impatiently.

"I 'ave to go, but send your owl! I want to make sure you are doing okay!" She leans in and gently kisses my cheek. I feel myself instantly go red. "Stay strong," she says, making the r sound nice and long. Rrrrr. She turns around and walks away, and I just sit there, watching her walk.

"She seems nice." My father says, completely snapping me out of my thoughts.

"She is. She made me forget, for a while."

"She's very pretty, too." My mother says through her sobs.

"Yes, she is." I pick at my food. I swear I can almost hear Collin saying 'Nice choice, bro!'