Colin Creevy had been very surprised when he’d got his prefect badge. He’d been even more surprised when he’d found out that the other Gryffindor Prefect in his year was Ruth Peterson. It wasn’t like she was the worst choice among the four girls in Gryffindor in his year, but she wasn’t the best choice either. After working with Ruth for several weeks, though, he had not been surprised that Ruth had lost her badge and it had been handed off to Ginny, who was the best choice, at least in Colin’s opinion.
Colin knew what he wanted to be as a prefect, and he knew that the other three boys in his dorm were not contenders, and never had been. To be a prefect, you couldn’t be shy nobodies, and that described Windstone, Oakley, and Radley to a T. In fact he’d been in his third year before he’d found out that he’d been mispronouncing Windstone (it was win tone, not wind stone), and found out that his first name was actually Julius not Julian. He had to look up Radley’s first name, because he’d never used it. (For some reason he like to be called Boo). As for Oakley, he wasn’t sure the boy had spoken a single word outside of class since first year. It was Colin’s great misfortune to be an extrovert rooming with a bunch of introverts.
He hadn’t really realized that he was a likely prefect until right before his fourth year, but when he’d arrived then, he’d watched each of the other prefects. Colin was not going to be a second coming of Hermione Granger. He admired the girl a bit, but she was too strict, and too focused on academics. He was closer to Ron, if anything, but not quite as loose. Ron had actually taken Colin aside after the prefect’s meeting to give some advice, and lessons he’d learned. Colin hoped he’d taken those lessons to heart. The check list that Hermione had given him was very helpful too.
He was not Ron, so when he called the first years and showed them the way to Gryffindor tower, they were not midgets, but firsties. His every present camera had allowed each of the twenty-four newly sorted Gryffindors to send a picture home of themselves in their new Gryffindor ties and scarfs. He’d even managed to get a few family groupings, and in one case, the next morning caught the one family whose children had managed the trifecta with the sorting of Edwin Edwards into Gryffindor. He’d taken that shot in front of the points counter with a sign in front of the Slytherin counter saying “reserved for Eleanor” who would be the fourth from the family to go to Hogwarts. It was too bad that the eldest was a seventh year.
His pictures were perhaps the center of his style of prefect. He was really big on helping the first years with homesickness. First years were the special domain of Fifth Year prefects, and he remembered his first year, from falling into the lake on his way to the sorting, to his home sickness the next couple weeks, that he seemed to have suffered alone, to the way over the top way he’d worshiped Harry Potter. He made sure they all wrote home, and when they were homesick, he made sure that letter from home was coming, even going to the point of writing his mother to have her call a couple of parents, resulting in nearly fresh biscuits arriving by owl a couple days latter. The firsties were quite amazed at his prediction of their arrival, and his charm to warm them to make those chocolate chip biscuits like they’d just come from the oven was very appreciated.
Of course, there was Elizabeth Waters, whose uncle now was in the custody of Her Majesty’s Courts, being tried for raping her next week. He’d struggled a bit on how to handle that, going for advice from both Harry and McGonagall, and more successfully, his mother, who had been brilliant in finding Elizabeth’s Great Aunt Matilda, an elderly old lady in a nursing home Colin had met just once. The old lady was even testifying against her nephew, who apparently had a long history of abusing young girls. How a man who had lost custody of his own daughter had gotten custody of his niece was one of those mysteries of Child Protective Services that really should be solved.
At the moment, he had a much more important set of pictures to take. He’d just witnessed, along with pretty much all of Gryffindor, the wedding of Professor Potter and Ginny Weasley. He’d been chosen to document it. The decision and scheduling had been quick. So quick that the three of Ginny’s brothers had not been able to attend. The first picture he had to take was of course of the happy couple.
Ginny had insisted, over the loud last minute objections of her mother, that her wearing white was not exactly an option. Colin was now of the opinion that Molly Weasley’s howlers were not enhanced volume like many other parents’ were. Instead she’d chosen a black and red dress with gold edging. In style, Colin thought it was more something that a medieval princess would wear instead of a witch.
Harry’s outfit was a regency suit, with gold edging on the long black coat. With plain black pants and boots that were right out of his regular wear. The deep scarlet vest, and matching tie played off Ginny’s dress almost perfectly. They’d chosen a rather isolated part of the grounds, near the old Scriptorium for their pictures., and the background seemed to be almost perfect.
Colin snapped several pictures, to make sure he got a good shot. Catching a picture were someone wasn’t blinking, or distracted by something, wasn’t always easy, but it was easier with just the bride and groom. Their pose with his arm around her shoulders and her hand at his waist seemed to fit well.”Thank you, now for the wedding party.”
There had been no surprises when Ron Weasley had been chosen as best man, nor really when Hermione Granger had been chose as Maid of Honor. It would have been a surprise if they hadn’t. It was somewhat of a surprise, thought, who had been chosen as the sole bridesmaid, along with the sole groomsman. The very pregnant Elizabeth Waters certainly hadn’t expected it. That being said, Elizabeth was Professor Potter’s ward. As for Edwin Carrow, the first Carrow to be sorted into Gryffindor in half a millennia, Colin wasn’t quite sure why he’d been picked, as there seemed to be no connection he could find, save that both Edwin and Elizabeth were first years, and if that was the qualification, then Quinton Hart would have been a more expected pairing with Elizabeth. After all, Quinton, Quin to his friends, was a regular study partner to Elizabeth, and top of his class.
As soon as the pictures were done, Colin put his camera away. He’d start on developing them tomorrow night. Now, thought, he had other tasks. “Come on, Elizabeth, we have a train to catch, and you have a great-aunt to meet.”
He’d found Elizabeth’s Great Aunt Matilda, by pure luck. If he hadn’t accompanied his mother to visit his Great Aunt Frank’s Mary, he wouldn’t have even had a clue. Frank’s Mary was called such because she was the Mary who had married his uncle Frank, not Tony, Winton, or Brent. There were a lot of Marys that married into the Creevy family in his grand mother’s generation. When he was little, he’d thought Franksmary was her name, not a possessive identifier, and she’d long been the favorite of his great aunts, of which he had twenty, three of which were widows, living in the same retirement community north of Bristol.
If he hadn’t gone that one last time before his fifth year to visit his reported but not really ailing great aunt, he’d of had no idea of the existence of Matilda Martha Mora Waters nee Portage, widow of the late Major Montgomery Waters. Major Waters had severed in the Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry at Delville Wood during the Great War, were he’d served with particular distinction. At least that was what the widow said when Colin had encountered her.
Colin might have loved his Great Aunt Franksmary, but there was a limit even with a favorite great aunt. He was no longer five, no matter how much his mother, aunts, grandmother, and great aunts thought he was. So, he’d excused himself from his mother and Great Aunt Frank’s Mary’s rooms and wandered around the town, eventually stopping at small Church. Colin loved taking pictures of churches and especially stained glass windows.
This particular church had a lovely depiction of Saint Cecilia, as well as Saint Wulstan, and Colin had caught the light coming through them almost perfectly. It was also where he’d encountered Matilda. She’d been knelling in the third pew, holding a metal of some sort. He wasn’t sure why he’d ended up knelling beside her, nor was he quite sure why he’d end up after he’d taken the pictures kneeling next to her. But he had, and somehow he’d gotten to talking to her.
She’d stuck in his mind, with all of her tales about her family. It might have been because she’d been absolutely unfiltered in her opinions of her family. When he’d gone back to his Aunt Franksmary, he’d mentioned Matilda. Some time after that Franksmary and Matilda had become friends. His mother visited her aunts every two weeks when Colin and Dennis were at Hogwarts.
So when Harry had briefed the prefects on what they needed to know, and Colin had put two and two together, perhaps it wasn’t too surprising that his mother was just arriving at Aunt Franksmary’s when Colin’s letter by owl reached her.
So today, when most others were going home for Christmas via the Hogwarts Express, Colin and Elizabeth were going to leave a bit earlier. He’d be developing the photos he’d just taken in his home studio, and Elizabeth, well she was going to spend her Christmas with her Great Aunt Matilda. It only took them a few minutes to go from the courtyard to the Headmaster’s Office. Professor Dumbledore was standing in front of the gargoyle, waiting for them.
“Good Evening, Professor,” Colin said. To his surprise, the Headmaster was dressed in a classic Edwardian site with pin stripped pants and suit coat, over a high buttoned deep plum vest. He wore a slightly brighter plum and a white shirt with a wide curved collar. It was not the animated rich purple and gold robes that he’d worn to unite Harry and Ginny in marriage. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit, Headmaster.”
“It has been quite some time since I have pulled this out of my wardrobe,” the Headmaster admitted, running his hands down the suit jacket. “I may have had to the fitting just a bit. Unlike, Miss Waters here, I do not have a good excuse for the weight I have put on. We shall be apparating from here to Aviemore, where will be waiting for the sleeper to Crew. Your trunks will be waiting there. I shall be in the next compartment over, once we board. “
“I thought you couldn’t apparart inside Hogwarts,” Colin said.
“You will find that there are some benefits to being Headmaster, Mister Creevey,” Professor Dumbledore said, pulling a tin out of his coat pocket. “Sherbert lemon, Miss Waters?” For the first time Colin noticed that the Headmaster’s right hand was covered with a black cloth glove. “No? Perhaps you are wise in that. Take my hands, children.”
Colin took the Headmaster’s right hand, which felt a bit strange, and Elizabeth his left. He suddenly felt compressed, and the next thing he knew he was standing on a darkened corner of Aviemore Station.
