Word Count: 562
Colin's teeth chatter as he reaches the campsite, his arms weighed down with more firewood. "You need more layers," he says, watching as Dennis struggles to put on a third pair of socks.
His little brother snorts and looks up. "Was there ever a time you weren't the boss of me?" he asks, his voice light and teasing
Colin just laughs because that's all he can really do. If he shows Dennis how worried he really is, his brother would panic. So Colin does what he can because it's the only way they can survive.
He looks around. Snow covers the area in a thick white blanket. He wishes he could do magic without the Trace. If he could, he would feel a lot more confident about their chances of making it through. Limited to only Muggle resources when the temperature is below freezing… It scares him more than he will ever admit.
"I am the one thing in life I can control," he reminds himself under his breath.
Colin sets the wood down before feeding a few limbs to the fire. He remembers camping when he was younger, before his mum died. Those had been fun days, filled with laughter. They hadn't needed to worry about whether or not they would make it through.
Dennis shoves his feet into a pair of boots they had stolen four towns ago. He puts on another coat, then drapes a blanket around his shoulders. It breaks Colin's heart. He should have thought this through; he should have found a way to keep his little brother safe and hidden.
"You shouldn't be here," Colin says with a heavy sigh.
"Where else am I gonna be, Col?" Dennis asks brightly.
This new world has not broken Dennis' spirit. Colin is grateful for that. Even stranded out here, so far away from their comforts, from familiarity, Dennis still smiles like it's just a silly game, some run adventure.
Colin shakes his head. "Never mind. Get some rest, yeah? I'll take first watch."
"I'm gonna dream of home," Dennis tells him before stretching out on the ground, the heat of the fire washing over him.
Colin watches his brother in silence for several moments. His flicker toward the sky. The stars twinkle overhead. He wonders if Ginny is at Hogwarts now, if she's still doing Astronomy. He thinks it might Monday, which means she would be at the Astronomy Tower, staring up through her telescope. Or maybe she's looking at the same stars through the window in her dormitory.
His chest aches at the thought. He misses his old life and the days when he didn't have to run for his life, when every move he made wasn't a matter of life and death.
He pulls out a roll of parchment. Over the past few months, he's written letter after letter to the people he's left behind. Maybe he'll send them when this is all over. Maybe he'll include the photographs of his time on the run, and he'll tell stories about the times he narrowly escaped death and the times he and Dennis found rare moments of peace in the middle of this mess.
Colin shivers and adjusts his coat. He doesn't think he wants to write tonight. For now, he just wants to focus on making it through.
There will time for letters when this ends.
