Harry,
This letter will never, ever reach you, but I have to write it, or else I'll explode. Do you remember when I first arrived at Hogwarts, a small, mousy-haired, scared first year like all the other first years? How I was Sorted into Gryffindor, the same house as the famous Harry Potter?
Do you remember how I followed you around after that, trying to catch you between classes and at mealtimes, just to say hello? Or how I was always snapping pictures of you? I don't think you liked it very much, but you have to understand why I did it. It wasn't to embarrass you.
Harry, I think I'm in love with you. I knew it from the first time I saw you, saw your dark hair and green eyes, when you first spoke to me. I felt it, it was bigger than the rush of excitement I felt when I got my acceptance letter to Hogwarts, deeper than anything I've ever felt before.
That was so hard to write, but so exhilarating at the same time. It's difficult to sort out all of these feelings, but I'm doing my best. It's scary and nerve-wracking and WONDERFUL all at once, I can hardly keep my hands from shaking. And I wish, I wish that you would notice me; I know I'm not much to look at, but I've grown, Harry, I'm a fourth-year student, and we're only a year apart. Is that such a large difference?
But I know you like Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker. And you've got good taste, she's very pretty. And that's why this letter will never make it to you, why I'll burn it after I write it, because I know you won't, you can't love me back.
If you could, I feel like it would be everything I've ever wanted, everything I've ever imagined or dreamed. I don't know how to say it, how to express it in words--it's like I'd be flying, like I could do anything, like nothing could ever hurt again. And it's frustrating because you're forever out of my reach. We barely even saw each other this year.
Ginny Weasley says I'll grow out of it, and she would know, I suppose, wouldn't she? It's odd, but we're good friends now, and that's because of you. I hope she's right, because sometimes it hurts more than I can bear, like a scar of my own, when I see you laughing with Ron or Hermione or looking at Cho.
That was fairly stupid to write. I'm going to burn this letter now. It's helped a little. I wish I could tell you, so at least you don't think I'm some idiot kid with a camera. I feel like an idiot, but I don't want you to think that's what I am.
Anyway, I hear people at the portrait, so I'd better finish before the common room gets crowded. Hopefully, you're one of the people who're coming, and I can hang out with you for a while, and pretend that I don't feel anything. That I'm just some idiot kid with a camera.
Sincerely,
Colin Creevey
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Lawyers note: I do not own the Harry Potter characters; I am only recycling them as part of my responsibility to our environment. You might think about doing that with all of those legal pads you're going through.