He knew he'd be told to leave, should a teacher see him, for he was still underage. But the moment Colin felt the coin heat up in his pocket he also knew he had to respond to the urgent call to arms.

As terrifying as the Astronomy Tower battle had been the previous year, he hadn't actually fought in it, and the reality of true war now staring him in the face was sobering, though not shocking; he'd been through too much the past year on the run with his family – under the new regime anyone not of "proper blood status" was persecuted – and so they'd hidden here and there, never staying in one place for too long.

As he ducked behind a wall in the castle and sniped at the Death Eaters below, he felt thankful for the weeks spent with one Muggle family who allowed them room and board. Their son, a young lad of about fourteen, spent hours playing video games and while Dennis had quickly tired of them, Colin had enjoyed watching, and occasionally playing. The quick reflexes he'd learned were now holding him in good stead.

Colin kept his eye out for a head of blonde hair as he shot spell after spell. He hadn't heard anything about Draco Malfoy the past year, and while he assumed no news was good news, he couldn't help but worry and wonder how the Slytherin had been doing, and if he was here now.

Colin ducked as a jet of green light came soaring at him though the broken window, and decided to switch to a different vantage point. He ran up a couple of floors before stumbling over something in the middle of the corridor and landing hard on the floor. Twisting, he realized he'd tripped over someone.

"What are you doing on the floor you idiot?" he bit out at Gregory Goyle, after he'd glanced him over to see if he was injured.

Goyle looked at him, but Colin had the impression that he wasn't really seeing him. Goyle didn't respond by any word or gesture, but simply got up and limped away, swaying unsteadily for several steps before somebody's stunning spell flew through another smashed window and knocked him out cold.

"What the hell?" Colin shook his head and stood up carefully. Turning his head, he noticed that the door to the Room of Requirement was visible. "What the hell," he repeated. "Why is the door not invisible as it should be?"

"The Fiendfyre must have messed with the magic of the room," a dull voice answered, and Colin whirled in shock. Draco was sitting against the wall, broken glass from the windows strewn around him. His hair was a mess, there were scorch marks on his clothes, and he looked pale and shaken.

"Fiendfyre?" Colin said in place of the thousands of other words he wanted to voice but was afraid to as he walked over to kneel in front of Draco.

Draco didn't respond to his questioning tone. "I don't want to be a part of this anymore. I'm tired."

Colin had to strain his ears to hear Draco's quiet voice, full of despair and blank shock. Impulsively, he rested his hand on Draco's knee. "Come away with me," he said.

At this, Draco's head jerked up, and their gazes locked. "What did you say?"

"Come away with me. We can go somewhere where they can't hurt us anymore, someplace where we can heal."

"I can't go," Draco said, and there was tired resignation his tone. "My family…"

"We can go away together, away from the madness, and we'll let our families know where we are so they can come visit – "

"Why?" Draco asked numbly. "Why would you want to – with me?"

"I – " Colin stopped, and then started again. "I want to be with you."

"But why?" Draco asked again, frustrated now. "Why do you care so much?"

It probably wasn't the best time, especially since he hadn't seen Draco in so long, but he couldn't stop himself from saying it anyway; after all, he'd thought about it often these past several months. "I love you," Colin blurted out. "I've been thinking about you all year. I want to be with you."

Draco stared at him, and the longer the moment lasted the more Colin's optimism disappeared, and then Draco grabbed the front of shirt and dragged him roughly into an angry kiss, and Colin melted into it, hope squirming in his chest –

And then Draco shoved him brutally away, and Colin blinked at him in bewilderment before his heart sank at the twisted, ugly little smile now curling on Draco's mouth.

"I've appreciated your support in the past," Draco said, his tone condescending, "but I could never love another man and especially not a Muggle born." He folded his arms. "It wouldn't be proper."

"Then why," Colin asked, his stomach in knots, "did you kiss me?"

"Why not?" Draco said as he got to his feet. He looked down at Colin, still kneeling at his feet, and smiled bitterly. "Goodbye and good luck, Colin."

The words were spoken softly, almost fondly, in complete contrast to the cruel rejection, and Colin stood up in confusion. "Goodbye and good luck, Draco," he echoed back. Their eyes met; and then there was a bang and the castle wall mere feet away exploded, and they were thrown sideways from the shockwaves.

When Colin looked up, Draco was nowhere to be seen.

Draco slid down the wall around the corner from where he'd left Colin. His legs hurt and he knew he smelled of smoke. He wished, in some way, that he could have taken the Gryffindor up on his offer. Draco felt tired, tired of fighting and hurting and dying and torture; he knew it was for a good reason but just wanted it over. Why can't all the Mudbloods simply get in their place and stay there?

He forced his legs to move. It was best not to stay in one place too long and he wanted to look for his parents; he needed to know they were still alive.

"You have one hour."

Colin shivered as the last notes of Voldemort's speech faded. As desperate as he was for a breather, he didn't want to face the many bodies he'd seen nor the faces of those still left standing.

"Creevey!"

He turned at the sound of his name. Oh bugger. Professor McGonagall strode toward him, her usual neat bun now spilling along her shoulders messily and her normally crisp robes now torn and stained.

"Yes Professor?"

She surveyed him for a moment in a manner so reminiscent of Professor Dumbledore that Colin actually took a half step back. Would she send him home? He mentally prepared himself for an argument, but she surprised him when she spoke. "The defenders are gathering in the Great Hall to wait out the hour reprieve, Creevey. Unless you'd rather help with the – the cleanup, you'd best make your way over there."

"Yes Professor." Colin nodded, thankful she was allowing him to stay, and made his way to the Great Hall. The next hour he busied himself with helping the injured and comforting friends. Some part of him kept an eye out for Draco, but he did not appear, and Colin pushed aside the painful emotions that the thought of his Slytherin evoked as best he could.

Draco surveyed the scene, magically hidden, from a corner in the Great Hall as people bustled to and fro helping those hurt and passing out food, blankets, or some other comfort. His eyes fell on Colin, who was holding a crying child in his arms halfway across the Hall. Conflicting emotions swirled as he gazed at him. Perhaps in a different life, or a different world; but in this one, any true self-respecting pureblood simply did not consort with anyone of a lower status, especially one of the same gender. Passing on the magical genes took precedence to any other selfish desire. In some part of him, he longed for the comfort and the safety he'd once felt in Colin's arms, but he shoved that aside hastily, dismissing it; it could not be, they could not be, and it would do no good to dwell on such a frivolous action.

He turned and walked out of the Hall, and as the door shut behind him he felt as though he'd lost a part of himself. He shook his head and moved on.

"Draco! Draco!"

Colin looked over to his right at the sound of the familiar name, but Draco wasn't there. He watched somewhat amazed as Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy ran through the people fighting, dodging spells and jumping over the injured, calling for their son; but the next second he was roughly shoved to the ground. Looking up, he saw Neville stunning a masked Death Eater.

"Watch yourself Colin!" Neville shouted above the noise. "What do you think you're doing, staring off into space?"

Colin didn't even get the chance to answer before Neville ran off into the fray. He followed; the battle had slowly moved, and now nearly everyone was crammed into the Great Hall. Friend and foe alike shouted, dodged curses, and sent spells shooting through the air right back at their opponents, and Colin lost track of time.

And then Harry appeared, and Colin felt a sense of relief. As the crowd backed up to form a large circle around Voldemort and Harry, for the first time since the battle had begun he wished for his camera. He scanned the room, and the people lined against the walls, wanting to remember this moment; this, he knew, was history in the making. He saw friends and teachers and parents and people from the Village, and even as he listened to the conversation taking place between the two men now circling each other in the middle of the Hall, he looked at the faces of all who stood around the room.

He saw Dennis, white faced and shaking, but determination set in his features as he watched the scene unfold. He saw Luna, robes torn and hair askew, but a serene look upon her bruised face. He saw Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, arms linked as they huddled in a corner – and there was Draco, standing beside them, his hand entwined in his Mother's, and Colin's heart leapt and shattered in that moment, and he turned his full attention back to the middle of the room.

And then it was over, all over, and he was hugging and laughing and crying with the crowd, and he didn't know how long they celebrated before Professor McGonagall announced that the House Elves had been busy and were ready to serve a large feast. More cheering greeted her words, and it was in a merry fashion that people set about restoring the House tables in the Great Hall.

Sometime later, his stomach full and Dennis by his side, Colin set out for a walk around the grounds. They passed the Malfoy family on the way out of the Hall; the three of them were huddled together, and looked rather unsure of their presence among those they had fought against. Colin's eyes meet Draco's for a brief moment. Draco inclined his head slightly and Colin mirrored his action, and then he walked past and the connection was broken.

As they walked along the lake, Dennis broke the contemplative silence. "I owled Mum and Pop. Told them what happened and that we're okay."

"Thanks," Colin said. "I meant to but got caught up in the celebrations."

"It's Draco Malfoy, isn't it?" Dennis said suddenly.

"What?" Colin looked over at his brother, who looked back at him without flinching.

"The boy you told me about on the train last year. The one you had a crush on. It's Malfoy, isn't it?"

Colin looked away. "How did you know?"

"The way you looked at him, just now, in the Great Hall."

"It's that obvious?" Colin sighed.

"Only to me," Dennis said, "because I know you too well. Does he…?"

"No." Colin said flatly. "I don't know if he ever felt the same way, really. I thought maybe….but old prejudices are too strong, and even if he did feel something for me he doesn't believe he can act on it."

"You know him well?" Dennis sounded surprised.

"Glad to know I can still keep a secret from you," Colin laughed dryly. "Yes. Or I thought I did. Perhaps someday I'll tell you the story."

Dennis clapped him on the shoulder and was silent.

As they neared the entrance of the castle, Colin noticed a figure sitting on the steps. As they got closer he recognized Harry. Dennis nodded as he caught the look that Colin sent, and went into the castle alone, leaving Colin with Harry.

"No Colin, I do not want my picture taken," Harry said wearily as he looked up. "And no autographs either."

Colin shook his head. "I wasn't going to ask for any of that."

"You weren't?"

"I've grown up a bit since my first year." Colin rolled his eyes.

"You would make a brilliant celebrity paparazzi," Harry said. "You'd give Rita Skeeter a run for her money."

"I'd rather not," Colin said. "I want to have a little photography shop somewhere someday. Maybe in Diagon Ally."

Harry smiled. It was a tired smile, but genuine nonetheless. "I'll be your first customer. On one condition. That the picture doesn't end up in the newspaper."

"Deal." Colin sat down next to Harry on the steps and gazed out on the grounds. "I was lucky," he said in a low voice. "I didn't lose any of my family. But so many of them" – he inclined his head toward the castle – "lost family and friends and loved ones. Is it wrong of me to feel happy that at least my own family is still alive?"

Harry sighed heavily. "If it's one thing I've learned, it's that you should take happiness where you can get it. There's precious little of it, especially in times as dark as this past year."

And as they watched the sun come up, for the first time in months Colin felt at peace.

Draco paced several feet away from where Professor McGonagall sat talking to his parents. Every now and then he'd catch a few words, enough to know that they were discussing the war, and while he was somewhat curious he was too tired to eavesdrop.

"Draco."

At his Mother's soft voice he looked up. "Yes?"

"Let's go home son," she said, and a tired smile briefly lit up her face.

"We're allowed…?"

"McGonagall has given us permission to go home," his father said. "As to what happens after that, she doesn't know."

"She's just letting us go?" Draco asked as they walked toward the Entrance Hall.

"She said she trusts us not to run."

"We'd be foolish to try," his father said curtly. "What may happen to us now is nothing compared to what would happen if we ran."

As they walked out the double doors of the castle, Draco saw Colin sitting on the steps next to Harry Potter. Both boys turned as the door closed. Potter's face wore an unreadable expression, but Colin had a shattered look that threatened to tear Draco's heart out for reasons he didn't want to face. He looked away as he walked on, and one by one, put all thoughts of Colin and their time together from his mind, locking the memories back in the corner of his mind, in a box he'd no longer allow himself to think about.

Once they passed the entrance gates, his parents stopped and turned to face him.

"Ready?" his Mother asked, holding out her hands.

"Let's go home," he responded.

There was a large crack, and the three of them disappeared, hand in hand in hand.