"Dennis?"
Dennis shook himself out of his daze. He'd been staring out the window for who knows how long, lost in thought. He faced Leanne. She had somehow walked into the sitting room without his noticing.
"Can I ask a favour?" Leanne bit her lip. She looked nervous.
"Of course you can ask," Dennis said. He hoped his smile came off reassuring.
"You can absolutely say no, but...would you be willing to take a photo of me?"
Dennis knew at once why she'd been so nervous to ask. The reminders of Colin were everywhere. This topic in particular was one of the worst. Sometimes he didn't know which was worse. Talking about him hurt. But not talking about him hurt too. "Special occasion?" he asked, stalling.
"I was offered the job I applied for at the Ministry," Leanne said, smiling shyly.
Dennis hugged her. "Leanne! That's brilliant!"
Leanne laughed happily. "I'm officially the new Healer in Training for the Auror Department. Between the classes I took during my time at the Underground and my experience at Homes for Hope, they decided to give me a shot. The recommendation from Astoria helped too."
"I'm taking you out for dinner tonight to celebrate," Dennis declared. "So what does your new job have to do with needing a photo taken?"
Leanne gave an exasperated sigh. "I went to the Ministry today. Auror Weasley had a few final questions to wrap up regarding Anton. After, he mentioned to me that I may want to replace the photo in my employee file when I start in my new position, so I stopped by Permanent Safekeeping. Which is a nightmare to deal with, remind me to tell you about it later. When the witch finally found my file, I discovered that my photo had been one of the ones that Chris Manny altered."
"Oh no," Dennis laughed.
"Exactly." Leanne rolled her eyes. "Seriously, some photographer out there would make a lot of money taking photos for Ministry employees. In the meantime, there is no way I'm allowing that photo to be the one they have for me on file. And to top it off, there is a coffee stain over the section that lists my full name. No wonder Harry didn't know it was me until you told him, my middle name bleed away from the spill."
"What are the odds," Dennis said. "Did Homes for Hope not list your full name in their file?"
"Funny you should ask," Leanne said. "I'll be having a chat with Hermione Granger at some point. If anyone can grease the wheels of change, she sure can. Apparently all organizations that require background checks go through a specific division at the Ministry. When someone is cleared to be hired, the Ministry releases all relevant basic information about the applicant. It's supposed to make the process quicker and easier. No one has to fill out any extra paperwork, as long as an applicant has previously worked for the Ministry, because all the information is available in the file. Except, of course, in my case."
"Because of the coffee stain," Dennis finished, shaking his head. "What are the odds."
"Tell me about it. And I only know this because the witch in Permanent Safekeeping seemed determined to impress me for some reason."
Dennis chuckled, then sobered up as he thought about her request. "I'll do it," he said at last. "When do you need the photo?"
"I start work on Monday," Leanne told him.
Dennis thought for a moment. "Let's just do it now," he said. He didn't want to give himself time to dwell on it.
Leanne looked at him knowingly. Dennis looked away. "I'll grab the camera," he said.
The box that held Colin's personal items from his desk at Wizarding World Weekly sat in a corner in Dennis' room. He'd looked through it once, but hadn't wanted to deal with deciding what to do with the items. Colin's camera was on top. He pulled it out carefully. He brought it to his nose. It still smelled like him. Somehow, as much as it hurt, it made him feel closer to Colin.
Leanne posed for him outside, the snow on the trees a beautiful backdrop. Dennis handled Colin's camera with care, afraid to break it. His brother had taught him enough about photography that he figured Leanne would have a halfway decent photo from at least one of the shots. It had to be better than whatever Chris had done, anyhow.
They developed the photos together, using magic to create a makeshift darkroom. Leanne, being the better one at potions, brewed the solution that allowed the photos to move. They worked well together, Dennis reflected. They always had.
It was painful to work on the photos and know that it should have been Colin. Colin who should have taken these photos. Colin who should have developed them. But as he looked at their finished work, Leanne's hand in his, he realized Colin had taken the photos, in his own way. The angle of the photos. The way they were framed. The way they seemed to capture a moment so precious. He looked at the pictures and saw Colin in every inch of them. Colin seemed to be talking to him through the photos. Colin was showing him the answer. Showing him the way.
Christmas Eve found Dennis standing in front of a headstone. He smiled sadly down at the fresh flowers someone had left, his eyes taking in the name in engraved in fancy script. "Hullo Colin," he said.
The gentle wind was the only reply.
"I never got to tell you the answer to your question," Dennis said to the headstone. "It's octopus ink, Colin. That's how they make pasta turn that dark hue."
The wind seemed to pick up at that. Dennis imagined Colin laughing, teasing him, took you long enough, little brother.
"I know," he murmured. "I'm sorry. I wish I'd been able to tell you - before."
Dennis kneeled down. Rested his hand against his brother's name. "Astoria Malfoy said she was helping you open your own photography studio. Said you had a place in London, where you wanted to open up shop. She said the place is still available." Dennis wiped a stray tear away. "I'm going to do it, Colin. I'm going to open up your photography studio. There's enough room where I can have a studio and a little cafe. Your dream and mine combined. What do you think Colin? Do you approve?"
A lone snowflake caught his eye. It fell slowly, gently, landing on the top of the headstone. Dennis smiled sadly. "It's nothing like hearing your voice. Or seeing your face. But I'll take it."
The snow started to thicken slowly, curtains gently dropping down around him. Dennis watched the snow blanket Colin's headstone and didn't know what he felt, only that there was this giant hole gaping inside and a grief so intense tears couldn't express the full extent of it. He'd gone through this before, when his parents had died, but he'd had Colin then, Colin who had shared this awful anguish, and they'd mourned together and survived - together.
"I'm so angry," Dennis said out loud, the words ripping from him without consciously thinking. "What were you thinking, Colin? Why did you go to him - you were okay, you were safe, why did you go back?"
The question wormed through his brain. He watched the snow and looked at Colin's name and a conversation that had taken place during the war, whispered secrets while their parents slept, came to him. "You were thinking about DeeAnn," Dennis said. "Colin you idiot. You should have told someone, you shouldn't have tried to fix the past."
"I'm so angry," Dennis said again. "And don't think this is just about you, brother. I'm so angry at Harry I can't see straight sometimes. I've watched the two of you through the years. I watched you fall in love. And he loved you, Colin, he loved you and I could see it and I don't understand how he could do this to you!" He lashed out, his fist hitting the frozen ground. "I went to visit him, once. I wanted to face him, wanted to ask him why, I wanted answers. Did you know that he's so sick they won't allow him to have visitors other than a small handful of approved people? I had to watch him through this two-way mirror kind of thing, similar to those cop shows we used to watch as kids only magical. And I watched and I watched. And do you know what I saw, Colin?"
Dennis found he was breathing heavily, his fists clenched against the snow beneath him. "I saw a man who is just as lost and scared and angry as I am. And I don't want to feel that, Colin. He killed you and I don't want to feel empathy for him, I want to be mad at him and blame him for everything but I just can't. What he did - it's not entirely his fault, is it?"
"None of us saw how sick he was. And those of us who might have seen a glimmer did nothing. What were we so afraid of?"
Dennis stood. He surveyed the small graveyard sadly. "All I have are questions, Colin. Will I ever know the answers?"
The soft creaks of branches swaying in the wind was the only reply. Dennis watched the trees and the snow and listened to the chilly air and could almost hear Colin's voice, soft as the warm muggle coat he wore. It's up to you now, Dennis. What are you going to do?
"I'm going to make you proud," Dennis answered. And perhaps he was having a conversation with himself, but in that moment he could almost feel Colin's warm presence.
"I'm also - " he hesitated, almost reluctant to share it out loud. "I haven't asked Astoria Malfoy yet. But I'm sure she'll agree. I want to hire people from the Underground to run the photography shop and cafe. I want to build a community, not just a business. The clients she helps - I can help them too. I can give them jobs. I can give them a family."
Dennis looked at the headstone for a moment longer before he said quietly, "Rest in peace, Colin. Don't worry about me. I'll be okay. I'm not alone."
It was perhaps the hardest thing Dennis had ever done in his life, but he turned and left the graveyard. He had a shop and cafe to open. He had someone special willing to walk beside him. There were days of pain and sorrow ahead. But there were also nuggets of joy.
What's coming will come, he thought. And we'll meet it when it does.