He sat quietly looking around. It was a small church, only holding about a hundred people. Of course, he was making a bit of a guess of that. He'd only really been in one other church before-the one in Godric's Hollow which was a fair bit smaller than this one. But he'd also seen the really large ones in London. That being said, the masonry and multi-colored glass was striking and beautiful. He swallowed thickly as he stepped forward.
Looking down, he saw the mostly pale face of the once hyper boy. His face was peaceful. A soft red tone to his cheeks-likely from the mortician. His white shirt crisp and not a single wrinkle. His slightly long brown hair had been combed back. He really looked…peaceful. Placing the single white flower he'd been holding into the casket he made his way to his seat in the first pew as he watched several others, some he knew from Hogwarts, most he didn't.
He watched as the line of people moved, while looking around. He saw the older couple he knew to be the boy's parents. They'd asked him to come. Their youngest standing next to them, trying to keep his own tears from falling. Failing at it too. He saw several of his friends as they had also been invited as well as what he suspected were many of the boy's non-magical friends. Before long, the line of people had finished and an elderly man stood at the podium.
"Death." He'd begun solemnly. "It is both a time of great loss. Of travesty. But it is also a time of remembrance. We gather with each other, remembering the life of those who have passed. Their laughter. Their joy. Their pain and their sorrow. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted; Matthew 5:4." The man continued on in the same fashion for several minutes, offering what he felt were comforting words and more verses from the Holy Book. But most of what was said had merely gone in one ear and out the other as he kept his focus on the casket. It wasn't until he heard his name that he was brought back to focus. "And now, at the request of his parents, Mr. Harry Potter would like to say a few words."
He stood at that and stumbled slightly as his foot had fallen asleep. Making his way forward he heard a few whispers from people wondering who he was. In all honesty, he had been questioning if he really wanted to do this until just before the ceremony. He really didn't even know what he was going to say. He knew it would be disrespectful to just wing it, but really, he didn't have much prepared. Standing at the podium he looked out at the people gathered. All in their very best clothes. Taking a deep breath, he spoke.
"I first met Colin at breakfast the day after classes started my Second year at Hugh Wards'." He'd used the common name for the school when in the Muggle worlds seeing as they were in a non-magical church. "At first, I'd thought him to be irritating. Always taking pictures of anything and everything." He saw a couple people frown at that. "Be it other students, the Professors, the school itself. If he found it of any interest at all, he would take picture upon picture of it." He paused as he tried to figure out how to say the next bit. He couldn't really say much…screw it. "Colin Creevey was…is a proud Lion of House Gryffindor." He'd said it and he saw many of the surprised looks on the witches and wizards of the crowed and the confused ones of the others. "Our school was founded nearly ten centuries ago by some of the most tenacious and intelligent people of the time; Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. They created our school in order to teach the next generation of leaders, warriors, healers. They believed that, truly, the next generation would be better than the last." That last bit was something he'd only learned recently.
"Although they had their differences, they were great friends. Great teachers. And in honor of them, our school's Houses were named in their honor. Each one, at the time, sought out different types of students. Ravenclaw wanted to teach the studious and witty. Those with creativity. She often said that wit beyond measure, is man's greatest treasure. Hufflepuff would take any student and she often touted loyalty and hard work being the key to a person's success. Slytherin, a bit of an outlier, only taught those of pedigree." He paused here as he wiped the tears that had begun to fall.
"For those who aren't aware, our school was attacked earlier this year. Just before we were let out for summer. That was where Colin…passed. We knew it was going to happen. You don't just sneak up on our school." He wanted to imply to the non-magicals that they had a very good security system. "Colin was supposed to be with the younger students in the designated evacuation area. Unfortunately, some of the people who attacked us had found it. Collin had died protected a couple of first years." He looked over to the three twelve-year-old's sitting at the end of the first row. "He was able to lead them through the destruction and mayhem and were nearly clear. He stood up to their attacker and for it, he…" He couldn't say that word, but the meaning of it was not lost on anyone present.
"He was part of my House; House Gryffindor. Colin is one of the bravest I've ever known." He paused again, as he looked down at the only part of the speech he had actually written down. "I've said what the other three looked for in students but I purposely kept back what Gryffindor said. He said, We'll teach all those with brave deeds to their name." He memorized the last few words before looking back to the people. "Colin most definitely had at least one brave deed to his name. For you might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart. Their daring nerve and chivalry, set Gryffindor's apart." With that, he stood silent before nodding, more to himself than anything, and moved back to his seat. He paused one last time at the casket though. "Goodbye, Colin."