Yule Ball: Write about an odd pairing.

Word Count: 388

Oliver feels his heart shatter when he sees Colin's small body among the rubble. He kneels beside the younger wizard, silently praying as he checks for a pulse; there is none.

"Please," he whispers. "Please, don't be gone."

"I thought you were the leader of Harry's fan club," Oliver teases.

The younger Gryffindor swallows dryly. His gaze drops, eyes fixed upon the camera that's clutched so tightly in his hands. A brilliant pink stains his cheeks. "I just like Harry," he mumbles. "You..."

Oliver raises his brows, curious. "What about me?"

The blush only darkens, and Oliver understands.

Oliver shakes the fallen warrior gently, tears in his eyes. Colin shouldn't even be here. He should have left.

"Stubborn idiot," he says fondly, his words choked and strained. "You should have known better."

But Oliver isn't surprised. Colin has always had a heart of gold. How could he run away when others needed him?

"Why can't we date?"

Oliver rolls his eyes when Colin finds him after his first Puddlemere match.

"Is it because you're famous now?"

"It's because you're young," Oliver says. "I can't just date a twelve year old."

It's just infatuation. One day, Colin will realize that. He'll understand that he is just impressed by Oliver's Quidditch talents. Nothing more, nothing less.

"I'll wait," the younger boy assures him. "When I'm older, we can be together. If you want, I mean…"

Oliver chuckles. "We'll see."

His fingers brush through Colin's hair, a sad smile on his lips. He had grown fond of the young wizard over the years. There could have been something there.

Now, he will never know.

"I'll be old enough when the war is over," Colin tells him.

Oliver closes his eyes and inhales deeply. Truthfully, he doesn't even know if the war will ever end.

"Dennis and I have to run," the young man continues. "I just wanted to let you know."

Oliver pulls him into a hug, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Be safe," he whispers. "Be safe for me."

He feels a hand on his shoulder and glances up to see Neville at his side.

"Need a hand?" Neville asks gently.

Under ordinary circumstances, Oliver could easily carry Colin on his own. Now, however, he's trembling and barely trusts himself to do more than nod.

"Thank you," he whispers.