He's dying inside. Am I the only one who sees it? Or perhaps, I'm the only one who bothers to capture it on film. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. When you're sixteen, everything is a tragedy.
Colin snapped another quick picture as Harry crossed the courtyard. The click of the shutter was inaudible at such a distance. Even if it could be heard, he was half-hidden behind the statue of a stone gargoyle.
Harry was looking thinner, he noted. Kept pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose because they no longer fit. His face had become so gaunt, so wasted.
Colin wrapped his cloak around him, shielding his camera from the wind and the flecks of snow that had come with the latest gust. He sighed once more as he began to follow in Harry's footsteps. The grass was quickly becoming covered, now a mottled green and white as the snow, gaining strength, was starting to stick. He shook a small blizzard from his lank hair as he tried to keep it out of his face. Where is he going on a day like this? He'll freeze! He doesn't even have a jumper on.
Colin knew it would cost him little in the way of effort to catch up to Harry. He was moving slowly, but Colin also knew that it would be effort wasted. Harry would shrug away his offer of help. Warmth, friendship, love. He would maybe even scream at Colin to get lost.
When he felt he might be getting close enough to be noticed, he hung back and drew out his camera for another quick photo. It would be a good one, artistically speaking. Harry, head almost frosted white, shoulders hunched against the snow as it fell at a perfect forty-five degree angle.
Colin didn't care. He followed, as the snow still stuck to his cloak. After another moment, Harry's destination became clear: Hagrid's Hut.
Colin saw the half-giant help Harry in, could hear his gruff but kind voice berating Harry for coming out here like this, on a day such as today. Harry ducked into the hut, and Colin settled into the shadow of a nearby tree as he waited.
The wind gusted, and the snow began to fall with a fierce intensity. It completely covered Colin, turning him into an odd parody of a snowman. He thought bitterly that all he was lacking was a lump of coal for each eye and a carrot for his nose. Still he waited. Waited and thought.
He thought about the early days. First coming to Hogwarts, falling instantly in love with Harry. Even at such a young age, he knew what it was. He always thought they shared some sort of connection: Colin didn't remember his mother, either.
He remembered the night he'd meant to go visit Harry. He was going to go see him in the Hospital Wing. Feed him some grapes and swap stories with Harry about growing up, or something. It was the night he wound up petrified. The months of nothingness followed by sudden awareness of all the time lost. When he'd awoke, the first thought on his mind was if Harry ever thought of him, then. He never held out hope, of course, but in his heart, he pretended it was true.
He recalled the long, lonely nights in the dorms. Harry on his mind while everyone else slept. Harry filling his vision as his hand moved faster, faster under the sheets. Gasped, whispered repetitions of his name as his heart beat frantically against his ribs.
He watched Harry grow as he did himself. Began to see the burden that he was carrying, the way it had started to rot him from the inside out. He often wondered if he was the only one who noticed all the weight Harry had lost. The false brightness to his eyes that masked the dark circles beneath. The way his posture was utterly defeated, as if he were a man walking to the gallows.
All of this, however, only made Colin want to love him more. To save him. Rescue him. But every time he tried to reach out, he was pushed away. Until he decided that he could only be close to Harry by staying far away.
He remembered the day Dennis died. He knew, then, why Harry never smiled anymore. His light just went out, it felt like. He sought Harry's footsteps more and more as solace for his aching soul. If I save him, maybe I can save myself.
Colin was so lost in his thoughts that he was staring into Harry's eyes before he realized that they were staring right back at him. He gave a start and stumbled backward into the trunk of the tree he'd been sheltering under. "Harry!"
"Colin, what the hell are you doing out here?" His voice was harsh, impatient. Specifically the tone Colin always felt was reserved for him.
"Watching over you," Colin answered honestly.
"What?"
Colin shrugged off his cloak and offered it. "You're going to freeze out here," He said, knowing that Harry had heard him perfectly well.
Harry pushed the cloak back toward him. "I'm not cold," he lied through chattering teeth.
"Harry..." There was a note of pleading in Colin's voice. "Please. Take it." He offered it again, and again, Harry shoved it back. Rougher, this time.
He was walking off before the words "I said I'm not cold" had left his mouth.
Colin quickly scurried after, shrugging back into his cloak and trying to shelter his camera at the same time. He figured it was now or never. The odds of him having time alone with Harry seemed to grow slimmer every day. "I love you," he gasped. And the breathy quality of his voice was oddly familiar to him.
Harry stopped dead in his tracks and turned slowly, looking over his shoulder at Colin. "What?"
"I..." Oh Jesus, he'd really said it. "I...I love you, Harry," he stammered again, his voice quavering.
Harry blinked a few times in surprise, then his expression turned hard, once more. "You don't even know me," he scoffed.
"Oh, but..." Colin took a step closer. "But yeah, I do. I watch you all the time. I can see how much pain you're in, Harry...I just want to help you..."
Harry shook his head. "You don't know me," he repeated bitterly. "And I don't need help, either."
Colin reached forward, placing a trembling hand on Harry's wrist. "You can't do it all alone--" he began, but Harry jerked his wrist away.
"Don't you get it? I have to do it alone!" He turned, walking quicker, but the snow had started to pile up in drifts, and his progress was impeded. Colin took the opportunity to catch up once more.
"Harry--" was all he managed before Harry turned again and pushed him back, knocking him down into the snow. He fell, flat on his back. The camera thumped hard enough against his chest to bruise and he grunted.
Harry looked down at him. Colin lay, for the most part motionless, staring back up at him. His hair was spread out on the snow behind his head like a halo. "You just leave me alone, all right? Stop following me. Stop taking pictures of me. I don't need you or your help. Just bugger off."
Colin just smiled a bit. His arms were spread wide, and he wondered if Harry thought he looked like a snow angel. "That's the last thing you would want, Harry," He said softly.
Harry stared back down at him. "You're mad. Absolutely mad." He turned, and started through the drifts of snow again.
Colin felt a chill more than the snow could account for. He just laid there for a long time after that, letting the snow cover him, until Hagrid found him, half-frozen, and took him back up to the castle.