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16 August 2007 @ 10:53 am
Wow, I feel like I have WAAAY too much time on my hands. Someone else write something so I don't feel like I'm the only one!!

Anyway, I wanted to write something angsty, but this is just...meh. Oh well, I hope there's some sort of redeeming-ness to this whole mess. And PS, even though it says "with pictures", there are none.

Continuation, A Story With Pictures

It was hot and damp, and the moon lit up the hallway as Dennis Creevey quietly opened up his bedroom door.

His bare feet padded silently on the wooden floor, skillfully avoiding the creaking plank. He trailed his fingers along the paneled wall, stopping when he felt the edge of a doorframe.

He pushed the door open slowly, stopping when it squeeked softly. As soon as he was sure no one had woken up he proceded into the silent room.

Dennis ignored the empty bed, and strode toward the desk. It was clean, neat and spotless, like his brother always kept it. A stack of schoolbooks lay on the left, topped by a pile of blank parchment. A bottle of ink and a quill sat next to that, along with a the photographs.

Dennis' breath caught as he looked at the pictures. His brother had taken them himself before he... Well, they were great. The light shone just right on the faces of students, some frozen in time, some still moving, a scene from another age, another place.

A low mutter from his parents' room made the hair on the back of Dennis' neck stand up. He slowly opened the drawer of Colin's desk.

There it was. his brother's life, in steel, glass, and vinyl. Colin's portal into the livers of others, disregarding his own existance to capture that of others. It had got the best of him in the end.

And now the camera was ownerless. The shutters would never click open and closed, the bulb would never flash, film would never whir. Colin was gone.

But it wasn't over. Dennis picked up the camera, the cold metal becoming warm under his fingertips. He took the strap and pulled it over his head, letting the camera drop to hang on his chest.

He took one last look around the room before leaving it and closing the door behind him. He walked back to his room and picked up the bag he had packed earlier that day.

Closing his door after him, he headed down the hall to his parents' room. Opening the door silently, he stared at their sleeping faces.

He pulled up Colin's camera and aimed it at his parents, pushing the button once, twice, then hurrying off down the stairs.

At the kitchen table he pulled out his wand and whispered a spell that Colin had taught him, aiming at the camera and pulling a picture of his parents' sleeping faces out of thin air.


A quiet air hung over the Creevey household. Mr. Creevey sat at the table with his eggs and sausages, and Mrs. Creevey was reading the paper.

There was a picture on the wall, of two young people, their faces innocent in sleep, captured forever on paper.

And there were articles on the walls, hung up by tacks and sticking charms, some yellowing with age, others brand new. All of them contained pictures, some moving, some not. They were all exquisite, works of art. Each article had a bit about the "mystery photographer" who left stacks of photos outside galleries with nothing else but pieces of paper signed "Colin".

Whew! Love to supporting characters! Even though Colin was annoying, I felt sort of bad when he died. And pooor Dennis (even though he's a menace!)
Caysbags: my lady loveshorty_90 on August 16th, 2007 07:34 pm (UTC)
Aww! It's sweet and a bit sad. Not terribly angsty, but angst is over-rated! I love Colin, and I love all of your ideas! I'm glad you're a part of after_hallows! Keep up the good work!
Vampyres and Space Cowboys! Oh My!ed_bb_cullen on August 22nd, 2007 05:01 am (UTC)
*wibble* :) thank you.