Chapter 11

The last days of the summer neared and Colin felt the tiny bubble of

excitement in his stomach grow larger with each passing day. Soon, they would

pack up their things, say good-bye to their parents and board the Hogwarts

express bound for Hogwarts.

But, amongst his impatience for a new year to begin, something unrelated

to Hogwarts preyed in his mind. He knew from the looks Dennis gave him that he

wasn't the only one thinking about the way he had behaved towards Agnes. They

practiced beating a few more times without her, albeit a bit more carefully than

before with the power-happy muggle policeman lurking around.

"It's just not the same," Dennis complained as they took a break under a

tree in the park. "I need someone to aim at in order to practice."

"And you called me muggle-hating."

"I did not. If you'll remember, I distinctly said you were not a pureblood

protectionist. Besides, I never said the person I aimed at had to be muggle. I

could hit you just as well-but then I'd be short a beater." He smiled crookedly

and Colin rolled his eyes.

"Gee, Dennis, you're all heart." Dennis' smile melted into a scowl.

"Whereas you seem to be entirely sour. You know, if it bothers you so

much, you could just go and apologize to Agnes."

"I have no intention of apologizing to Agnes. I gave her her picture, she

gave me mine, the deal out to have ended there. None of that Quidditch playing

or long, drown out History of the Wizarding World lessons should have happened."

"Well, at least she did our history homework first but does this mean I

have to deal with bitter, sulky Colin until we get back to Hogwarts?"

"Shut up." Colin threw a cricket bat at Dennis. "Let's practice more."

But even in the Creevey household it seemed Colin could not escape

sympathy for Agnes. Their dinnertime discussions of Hogwarts, its faculty, staff

and courses began to take ugly turns. That night, the conversation began

casually when Mr. Creevey asked if that mean teacher that everyone hated would

be teaching there again. "Snape?" Colin asked. "Probably."

"He hates Gryffindor too much to leave without doing some sort of harm to

us," Dennis added.

"Really, I don't see why they'd allow such a terrible professor to keep on

teaching there. It just doesn't make any sense," Mrs. Creevey opined.

"Maybe there's a severe shortage of good potion masters," Colin suggested.

"Kind of like the situation with Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. Snape's

all Dumbeldore could find."

"Too bad that position's not cursed, too, then. We're already scrapping

the bottom of the barrel."

"It's probably just as well there's one class you two don't like," Mr.

Creevey said while reaching for the potatoes, "or else we'd never be able to get

you away from Hogwarts." Mrs. Creevey nodded.

"And you had such a good holiday this year too, with all the days you

spent playing with your new friend. What was her name?"

"Agnes," Dennis supplied and Colin felt his tension-level rise.

"That's right. You three certainly spent a lot of time together. I was a

bit surprised, to be honest. You two haven't really had all that many friends

outside of Hogwarts, you know."

It was nothing really earth shattering for their parents to point out that

Colin and Dennis were loners. Before Hogwarts, they had been largely ignored by

their peers and regarded as oddballs. Then came their letters; first Colin's,

then Dennis' and everything fell into place. They were wizards. Somewhere, they

were not considered freaks but magical. In Hogwarts, they found their real

element and soon forgot that they had no friends outside of Hogwarts to come

visit during the holidays. In fact, until he was confronted with the absurd

muggleness that was Agnes, he had never realized how out of touch they had

become with the world in which they had spent the first eleven years of their lives. Mr and Mrs.

Creevey might have served as a connecting thread between their

sons and the muggle world but they were too intrigued themselves by the

incomprehensible mystery of the wizarding world to think much of it. Matters

were not improved by the return of You-Know-Who. Their parents knew about He-

Who-Must-Not-Be-Named but neither Colin nor Dennis were willing to tell them he

was back or that they had spent the past year learning how to defend themselves

against attacks. What could they say or do even if they did know? Nothing,

absolutely nothing. His parents, maybe all muggles, were just as out-of-place in

the wizarding world as Colin felt in the muggle world. It was a breach that

could never be fixed.

So, Colin and Dennis kept their mouths shut, packed up their trunks,

promised to send letters and pictures (with their parents promising similar) and

returned to Hogwarts ready for another year or belonging.

"Harry! Harry!" Harry Potter turned around and Colin saw a faint smile of

resignation form on his mouth. "Are we continuing with the D.A. again this year,

Harry?" Colin asked before Harry had a chance to say anything. "Dennis and I are

ready to go!"

"Er-I'll have to get back to you on that one, Colin," Harry replied

shortly and walked away to in the crowd.

"Geez, you don't think he'd be more eager to continue once the ministry

and everyone's admitted he's back," Dennis said, popping up behind Colin.

"Yeah, really," Colin agreed and they followed the groups of students into

the Great Hall for the sorting ceremony and welcome feast.

"I talked to Natalie MacDonald earlier and she said that they'd even told

the muggle Prime Minister about it."

"You know, I've always wondered if he really takes our warnings about bad

wizards seriously. I mean, how would you react if you were the leader of a

country and some bloke in green robes and a funny hat came and told you a dark

lord was loose torturing and killing people?"

"I'd think they were bonkers," Dennis replied without hesitation. "But

then again, Agnes believed us."

Colin shrugged. "Agnes isn't exactly stable herself. She makes Loony

Lovegood look grounded."

Dennis started to say something but stopped as the sorting began. It was

always entertaining to see the first years approach the sorting hat, most of

them looking pale and nervous. Colin himself hadn't been too nervous-he had been

far too intrigued by everything going on around him to be nervous. As for

getting into Gryffindor, he'd been pleased at first but nearly estatic when he

learned who else was in there with him.

Part of his mind wondered what house Agnes would be in but he shook that

thought firmly out of his head and forced himself to concentrate on the food

that appeared on the table tops at the sorting's conclusion.

When he reached his dormitory, however, and finally settled down into bed,

the thought had come back and refused to leave. It was clear. He had treated

Agnes unfairly. It was more Slytherin of him than Gryffindor to say such things

to Agnes and not have the guts to apologize. He closed his eyes tightly. This

would not stand. He would set things right-or at least, as right as one could

set them from Hogwarts.