NB: J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and characters and Stephenie Meyer's Twilight and characters are theirs and theirs alone. They do not belong to me. Serious part over ...

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Colin Creevey was one of Hogwarts' more excitable students. In his first year, he met famous wizard Harry Potter, who was in the year above him. In that same year he was petrified by a marauding Basilisk. That Basilisk destroyed his camera with a single glance, and to that camera Colin owes his life. He saw the Basilisk through his lens, and because Basilisks can only kill with a direct look the Basilisk's glare fried the inside of his camera and froze Colin. So when he saw Bella Swan, a fourth year student, holding a camera just the same to that one, he was unable to look away. As kitsch as it sounds, he was drawn to it.

But just as Colin was about to move over to Bella, to ask if he could merely hold it, she disappeared into the swarm of the two schools.

***

The house elves had gone to a lot of trouble with the decorations for Deauforth's first Hogwarts banquet. Though the food was similar to what Hogwarts students were used to, the decorations were efforts that could not be paralleled. The candles that usually hung over the tables had been replaced with clusters of fairies that glowed daintily in the otherwise dim light. They moved around in symmetrical shapes – holding a circle for a minute, then a clover, then a moon, then a circle again. There were now maroon tablecloths covering the shiny wood of the tables and glossy glass vases brimming with yellow daisies and violet hydrangeas.

Bella Swan was of course taken aback by the lavish table setting, as were the rest of her school. Her dinner – Bella had chosen, from the many dishes, to have rosemary roast potatoes, vegetarian minestrone and a Caesar salad – seemed to have taken an age to eat. There were just so many things to see; the novelty of the gemstone-filled hourglasses (it seemed the one filled with sapphires filled more than the others) mounted on the wall, the ceiling that changed according to the weather, the rings of fairies twirling above her - it was overwhelming, but exciting. She lifted her camera to document the display in the Great Hall. The bulb flashed boldly.

It all happened very suddenly then.

It was as if there were many, many starved locusts, and Bella was the first ear of corn they had seen in an age. Every ring of fairies from each table attacked the startled Deauforth student, attempting to bite at her astounded face. Bella shrieked in surprise, partly in pain, at their thorny bites.

There was a cry from the Gryffindor table.

The fairies were suspended airborne, twirling involuntarily in their weightlessness. To the bystander, the sight was a beautiful ballet.

To the person on the receiving end, it was an unwelcome shock. Bella ran from the hall, her feet scraping on the stones, camera in hand.

***

"It is unacceptable, Dumbledore, unacceptable!" Bellowed Ms. Perry-Bryant, slapping her palms on the table emphatically.

"It was out of my hands –"

"So you deny responsibility?!"

Dumbledore stared wearily but fixedly at Perry-Bryant with his impossibly blue eyes. "I do not accept responsibility for something that is not my doing," he explained firmly. His eyes contradicted his tone. "But I do not blame Miss Swan either. She was not to know the fairies' reaction. And, as we saw, Miss Granger of Gryffindor house handled the situation very well."

Ms. Perry-Bryant cringed away from the intense stare of the headmaster opposite. "So she was the one who froze the fairies! You'd think it would be the small boy who's accompanied Swan to the hospital wing."

Dumbledore looked taken aback for a moment. His creased face quickly smoothed over. "It is of no consequence. I'm sure the small boy has been no trouble to Miss Swan. Good day, Ms. Bryant."

"Good day, Mr. Dumbledore." Ms. Perry-Bryant turned on her heel and marched from the office.

Dumbledore placed the tips of his thin fingers together, like a tent, and stared at one of the silver contraptions on his desk. His eyes narrowed infinitesimally, and his face crinkled as he smiled.

***

"You don't have to stay here, Colin."

Colin looked offended. "But I want to! You don't talk to anyone. It makes me sad."

"And?"

"And what?" Colin questioned.

"There must be some other reason for your ... um ... hanging around. Spill." Bella gestured with her finger for him to talk. Her finger was textured with minute crescent-shaped scratches. For the most part, the bites hadn't really done anything. The fairies had just left little nicks where they had bitten her, but there were quite a lot of nicks. So when she had been admitted to the Hospital Wing, it hadn't taken long for Madam Pomfrey to heal them. It had stung a little, since magical bites take longer to heal than normal injuries, but the main thing that had kept Bella here was her response to blood. The smallest of droplets had oozed from each cut, but the smell alone had been enough to make her faint. It wasn't something that Madam Pomfrey was used to. Bella had fallen and hit her head, and was out cold for an hour.

Colin had stayed with Bella for that hour. What he didn't care to divulge was the main reason he had stayed - the camera.

"There isn't one!" Colin lied, his eyes wide and falsely innocent.

Bella studied his face for a second, and then looked down. Her normally smooth chocolate hair was stringy, and fell around her face in sections. She sighed, and stood up from her seat on the corner of the bed.

"So what you normally do after dinner?" Bella asked, blushing.

"Dumbledore usually gives ... sort of – notices. To let us know what's going on." Colin explained, handing Bella her camera. He was apprehensive as he released it.

"Ah."

There was an awkward silence. Then Bella grabbed her satchel from the bedpost and walked out the door with Colin.

"You haven't met my brother yet, have you?" Colin enquired. Bella's strides were little bigger than his, and he was skipping in an effort to keep up. Colin turned right, and Bella hurriedly corrected herself – she was just guessing where to go.

"Hmmmm?" Bella looked absorbed in other thought.

"My brother, Dennis. He wants to see the c – he want to meet you."

Bella looked surprised, but then she chuckled. "Okay. Where to?" She waved her arms above her head.

"Gryffindor common room."

For the next few minutes as they walked up the stairs, it was silent between them. Bella caught her foot in the trick step, and the camera flew out of her hands. Colin dove onto the marble, and the camera kept on a falling ...

Falling ...

Falling ...

And it fell right onto the marble floor, breaking into three pieces.

"Ah. Now I see ..." Bella murmured, her face deadpan. Then her mouth turned up at the edges in a teasing smile. "The camera?" It wasn't a question, but she still questioned Colin. It was now his turn to blush.

Colin looked down, embarrassed. "I thought you'd laugh like that."

Bella giggled. "I'm not laughing! I just wonder why ..." She trailed off. Her foot was still stuck in the step, and she jerked it in an effort to get it out.

"You know Basilisks?" Bella immediately stopped moving her leg, and her smile stopped with it. She nodded slowly.

"One, sort of, destroyed my camera. It was just like that one. I miss it." He blushed again.

Bella smirked again. "So you ... let's see ... followed me around?" Colin nodded sheepishly.

"Stayed for an hour in the infirmary?" He nodded.

"Just for a camera," she verified. He nodded again.

"Well, I guess the only fair punishment for that is for you to ..." Colin looked up anxiously. "... for you to be my friend. But only if you want to," she added hurriedly.

Colin smiled broadly. "Okay! And I can fix the camera too." Colin cleared his throat, and felt for his wand in his robes. Colin stood up and raised his wand. "Reparo!" He shouted, his voice echoing off the balustrade and ceilings of the corridor. There was a puff of purplish smoke, and the camera was repaired.

Sort of.

***

The Gryffindor common room was packed and noisy when Bella and Colin arrived. Bella's camera was tucked away firmly in her satchel so it couldn't fall again, which was a likely prospect when they had to crawl through the portrait hole. Colin hadn't known the password, but Neville Longbottom was on hand to help him with it (which wasn't the brightest idea considering his capacity for remembering the secret words); it was lucky as everyone else was already inside.

"Wow," said Bella, seeing the elaborate room. Colin was about to interject –

"Common rooms back at Deauforth are just like Muggle houses. Basically the whole academy is just like a Muggle high school as well. I think Perry-Bryant said that it was 'to keep you normal'. Urgh." Bella sighed. "But it's so amazing here! What wizardry is supposed to be about."

"So what sort of magic do you do at your school?" Colin asked, squeezing through a small gap that was rapidly becoming smaller thanks to Seamus Finnigan wrestling with Dean Thomas. That wasn't all that was going on. Everyone seemed to be in an animated conversation with somebody else. Fred and George Weasley were a corner seat of the common room, discussing a matter with deadly serious faces. Everywhere you looked, there would be talking. A tall red-headed boy was talking to a girl with bushy brown hair and another boy with ebony hair and striking green eyes. A group of girls was huddled in the middle of the room, unaware of the other noise being made. Bella wondered how they couldn't hear it – the volume was nigh on intolerable.

Bella followed Colin. "Just your standard stuff – Transformations, Charms, Potions, Divination, Cooking. I dropped History after I got 'Troll' three times in a row on topic papers."

"Cooking?"

Bella ignored him and sat down in another corner seat of the room. "What's everyone talking about anyway?"

"I'll just ask. Ron! HARRY!" Colin yelled. Bella winced at his voice.

The red-headed boy turned around. The brunette girl with the untameable hair rolled her eyes. "What do you WANT Colin!?" They wound their way around other people to the table where Bella and Colin were sitting.

"What's everyone talking about?" Colin asked, struggling to be heard above the din of the crowd.

"Why, weren't you at dinner?" The girl asked in a sarcastic tone.

"Bloody hell ..." the boy named Ron muttered, folding his arms.

The girl looked at Colin with her bright brown eyes. "Colin!" She scolded. "The Triwizard Tournament, of course!"

So, yup. I hope this is more plotty! Is plotty a word? I don't think it is.

What did you think? Review please!!