Easy

Here's a picture. It's of you, of course. You're flying around the Dragon, just about to dive in and get the egg. I can see the concentration on your face. The determination. The traces of fear around the edges of your eyes--a slight dilation of the pupils past their normal size.

That fear...

And here's the next one. It's you, flying away with the egg in hand, triumphantly celebrating your victory.

It was remarkable, Harry. Truly remarkable. To see you flying on your broom, more elusive than the air, faster than the wind.

That truly was remarkable.

And here's another one. Dennis took this picture. It's of you and me. You're smiling at the camera, and I'm there beside you, smiling even bigger than you are.

Which, really, isn't that much of an accomplishment.

I know how to take pictures that move, you know. I have one of you right here. It's of a Quidditch match against Slytherin, and there you are, flying towards the snitch, reaching, straining, tightening every muscle; the snitch racing away, golden wings a blurred flurry as it dances away from your hand... and you have it! You swirl around in the air, proudly displaying the snitch for all to see.

It makes me want to do a little cheer every time I see it.

But I don't want some of the pictures to move. Like the one Dennis took of us.

I can see your smile, and your eyes. Do you think I don't notice? The reluctant smile. The condescending look. The way your face always contorts when you see me. Do you think I don't know that you're thinking "oh no, not Colin again"?

Of course I know. I'm not stupid.

No, I'm not stupid.

But there are a lot of things that I am.

But you never tell me that. You never tell me that you hate seeing me, that you loathe the sight of me almost as much as you do Malfoy. You'd never do that.

That's what makes you so great.

And that's why I keep these photographs still. Because that way, I can pretend that you really wanted to be in that photograph with me, that you really wanted to be in that picture with me.

Because you really did try to put a good smile on your face. But you're not an actor. So movement would make it obvious enough that even I couldn't pretend.

And I can't let you take my fantasies away. They're all I have.

Here's another one. It's of you entering into the maze. Remember? You look scared, and frightened, because you don't know how it will turn out. But you won, in the end. You did battle with... You-Know-Who, and you won! You're great, and amazing, and active, and I could never be like that.

What if you didn't come out on top? What if Voldemort had killed you? What if you missed the snitch? What if the Dragon's breath burned you to a crisp?

All these photographs, they're of your triumphs. Your successes. They're safe. I can look through them and remember all the happiness, the joy, the elation; but life isn't like that.

No, life isn't like that at all.

Action doesn't have one consequence. It has two: success and failure; triumph and defeat; life and death.

Every time someone succeeds, someone else fails.

If I tried, I know which one would happen to me.

It's easy looking at these pictures, though. I can look at all the good things, all the spectacular wins, and forget that there ever were any losses. After all, a picture of something that turns out to be bad can be thrown away. Life can be seen as endlessly happy, without any failures.

You can understand that, right? You can understand how much easier life is like that, to never have to worry about defeat, about failure, about death.

Of course you can.

That's why you're the Harry Potter.