Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling or the Killers. I'm just having some fun. :)
Day & Age: The World We Live In
The world we live in can sometimes be cruel and harsh. Usually during those times, you just want to give up. But amidst all of the grief and chaos, he thought it was beautiful. Strangers helping strangers piece their lives back together; it amazed him that he had never seen such kindness before. He wanted to capture it, so decades from now, people would be able to see that people can actually work together.
So he grabbed his brother's camera. He knew he wasn't as good as Colin was, but he loved photography just as much as he did. He just hoped that he wouldn't royally screw this up.
He walked the school grounds and the streets, just observing the rebuilding. When something caught his eye, he took a snapshot of it. He spent his entire summer holiday taking pictures. If he wasn't taking pictures, he was developing them. And if he wasn't developing them, he was spending time with his dad. They there for each other, and that was all they needed.
You could say that he had an epiphany. But he wasn't about to go dancing in the street screaming his revelation. He still felt the stab at his heart every time he thought of his brother, but he knew that it wouldn't completely go away. Taking photos was like therapy to him and he was on the long, slow road to recovery.
When he got the letter saying that school was going to open on schedule, a ghost of a smile appeared on his face. He knew what he would do; he would show the world that we live in that they can't get rid of the Creevey brothers that easily.
He was going to try out for the Gryffindor House Quidditch team.
Except he couldn't really fly well at all. He was, in fact, absolutely dreadful. When he almost decided to kiss his spot on the house team goodbye, he remembered something.
He quickly got out some parchment and decided to ask George to teach him how to play Quidditch. He hoped to Merlin that George was in a good mood today, since George's mood swings were hard to follow. As he continued to ask, or beg if you would like to call it, for George to teach him how to play Quidditch, another thought hit him.
He didn't have a broom either, which is a major set back for him. He sighed, and mentioned that in the now longer note to George.
As he watched the owl take off, he hoped with every fiber of his being that George would say yes.
-x-
Dennis had waited two hours for a response from George. To say that he was anxious would be an understatement. He kept thinking he heard an owl hoot or a peck on the window, and if anyone had seen him during those two hours, they would have been led to believe that he was barmy.
He had started pacing up and down his bedroom, and once he got bored of that, he sat down on his bed and let out an overdramatic huff of exasperation.
And then, the owl came. Dennis quickly opened his window way before the owl had even arrived, and waited impatiently for it to come. He quickly took the parchment off of the bird's leg and read it.
He thanked Merlin that George was in a good mood today.
He was going to the Burrow to learn how to properly fly and play Quidditch.
-x-
When he returned home from the Burrow later that night, he felt completely exhausted. He easily mastered basic flying, but he had spent most of the majority trying to multitask while flying. He couldn't hold the quaffle and fly at the same time. He touched his arm, and he winced a bit. There was definitely going to be a bruise there tomorrow.
As Dennis trudged his way up the stairs and into his bedroom, he remembered the conversation he had with George when they had when he reached the Burrow's makeshift Quidditch Pitch.
"So, what are we going to do first, George?" Dennis had asked as he helped George lug out the big chest that contained all of the Quidditch balls.
"First, we're going to see how fair of a flyer you are, and then we'll go from there," George said as he dropped the chest onto the ground.
"But I don't have a broom," Dennis said as he stepped away from the chest as it was shaking, and he didn't like that one bit.
"Do not worry, my good friend. For I have a remedy for that," George said as he walked towards the shed that Dennis presumed where all of the brooms were kept.
Dennis tried his best to keep a straight face when he heard George swear colorfully as he bumped into something or something fell onto him.
Soon, George emerged from the shed carrying two identical brooms. George handed one of them to Dennis.
Dennis slowly looked at the broom, in awe. As he turned it over, he noticed at the top of the handle the initials 'F.W.'
Dennis quickly looked up at George wide-eyed. "George, I can't use this," he said.
"I insist you use it," George said, obviously not taking no as an answer.
"But-"
"Hey, he would have wanted you to use it," George said.
Dennis just nodded in response, grateful that George would let him use Fred's broom.
George had given Dennis several books on the history of Quidditch, about the teams, and strategies. As Dennis sat down on his bed, he pulled out Quidditch Through The Ages and started to read.
A/N: Chapter 3 of 10. As always, feedback is appreciated! :)