Still Life

Still Life

Love is a funny thing. It contorts your world entirely. You become it's prisoner and it rips out your heart, and claims it for it's own. Then again, it makes things come to focus, heightens your senses, and comforts the soul. It changes you. And when you know that the person you love with all your soul doesn't feel the same way, you are ruined completely.

My name is Colin Creevey. That's right, Harry Potter's annoying little fan. But I've grown up from that. Sure, I still admire Harry; he's a great man. He'll always be. Not just because he's a hero, but he's just a good person overall. Me, however... I'm hopeless. Hopelessly in love and broken. Dennis can vouch for that.

You see, things went wrong in my sixth year; Harry's seventh. For some reason, I remained single and virtually dateless, but that was okay. I was alive at least, and with You-Know-Who on a rampage, that was a very fortunate thing. Being Muggleborn, I of course was a target. I wasn't even sure I'd survive my fourth year! Though I got through it. Ginny was there for me.

That was where things got complicated. It was hard not to know Ginny. We were in the same year; same house, had mostly the same classes, and of course, shared the same somewhat obsessive adoration for Harry (well, more me than her, and her in a different way). In fourth year, I usually sat with her in almost all our classes together. Eventually, we found other things to talk about, other than Harry (though her brothers had a running joke we were plotting to start a Harry Potter fan club).

I found we had a lot more things in common, for example we like animals, have a brother (or six in her case), and a number of other things. Despite the fact that I was Muggleborn, Ginny didn't mind. She found some of the Muggle things I told her about fascinating. She said she got that from her dad. Her mother thought it was rather a shame, but she couldn't help it anyway. Ginny was a great friend, and stuck with me even thought it meant putting herself in danger. That was why it was so easy for me to fall for her.

Besides, not only was she a great friend, she was rather brave, though shy. She is sweet and yet fiery. And not to mention she is rather lovely. She has an elegant kind of beauty; pale and graceful--well, in a way, she used to sometimes be clumsy around Harry. She had grown into a beautiful young lady, that Ginny. Harry hadn't noticed--too busy ogling at Hermione.

I hadn't ever noticed that he fancied her until that last year. To be honest, I don't think he's told her yet either. If he doesn't, he'll lose her too.

Ginny may not have caught Harry's eye (and this caused her many tears, resulting in me or one of her other friends comforting her), but he certainly caught his.

I had decided to tell her how I felt one day (in our sixth year), just explain and let her decide how she felt, but I couldn't find her. She was simply impossible to find when she didn't want to be. I looked everywhere around the castle, even sent Dennis to help my search. It was him who found them. In the dungeons. Snogging their heads off. Dennis had been quite shocked and practically alerted the whole school. Within hours, the everyone in Hogwarts knew that little Ginny Weasley was snogging Draco Malfoy.

Ron was furious. He wanted to tear him into pieces with his bare hands. Of course, he always had wanted to do that, but then more than ever. Harry and Hermione were so stunned that they hadn't said a word until they had to stop Ron from going into the Slytherin common room and beating the living daylights out of Malfoy.

Me, I was weeping. Not that anyone knew. I had to find somewhere secret just so no one would find out. Ended up in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She threw a fit at me, but I didn't care. Ginny was lost to me and was in the arms of the worse possible person.

That was a year ago now. I'm in seventh year, and we no longer see either Harry, Ron, or Draco. Except Ginny. She knows that Harry's never going to see her in that light, and had given up on ever being with him. Instead, she sees Draco every waking moment. She's barely there anymore. Hardly ever talks to me, or anyone. She writes letters to him everyday. Even in class. She hides them under her notes and keeps writing. Even when the teachers are talking. She forces me to help her. Not physically, not even verbally. Just by her very presence, she forces me.

One time, Snape caught one of the letters; it had fallen to the floor. He inquired who's it was. I said it was mine. Snape have a look that made me feel like I was some sick, disgusting bastard. Then he glared at Ginny. He deducted thirty points. Fifteen for lying to him. Fifteen for being idle and not paying attention. He even reminded her in front of everyone that she was failing most of her classes. Ginny had reddend for most of the lesson. Clearly, Malfoy had corrupted her childish innocence that I always found so endearing. You'd think she'd stop writing after that, but it didn't even faze her. Embarrassed as she was, she still wrote. Though more discreetly, but not enough that I didn't know.

She thanked me after class. For trying to look out for her. She even gave me a kiss on the cheek. Though my heart was dashed as soon as she turned to go to the Owlery. Two things were obvious: one, she was going to owl that letter and two, she saw me like one of her bother. The latter is pretty disturbing, considering how I think about her.

I don't know how I go on; even Dennis tells me I'm a shell of my old self. I think he's right. I'm trying to be on purpose. What could make me say that? Well, I had a thought recently.

I no longer take moving pictures. I despise them now. Why? Because I loathe to see each picture in which they move. They do things that don't really happen. Give longing, lustful looks to each other. That's why I reverted to still pictures. Muggle pictures.

It took me awhile, but I finally found the beauty in photography again. To capture a single moment, a moment that said so much and expressed emotions without any movement whatsoever. Just to capture it in one single moment. Yet it had no life. Just a memory, preserved in stillness.

She doesn't notice, but I'm barely alive. Dying every second I see her. I smile, I joke--it's all an act. It's all for her. I may not want her to be with Malfoy, but she's happy with him. And seems as much as in love with him as I am with her. I just want her to be happy, even if it means that my heart is slowly and wrenchingly being torn into microscopic pieces and bursting into flames. I hold a smile, from the past. One that is convincing, but a lie.

I don't know what's next, or how I'm ever going to move on. I can't escape. She haunts my every waking moment. And then even my dreams. All except when I'm capturing a moment. For that moment, I'm alive again, I'm not thinking about her or him, or anyone. Just trying to get the perfect picture. Then...

I'm gone again. I join the world, and I am dead. Haunted and dying. It doesn't make any sense, I know. But I'm so conflicted.

Why couldn't she see me? Why couldn't I be something more? Why can't I be the one she loves? Why does she torture me so?

Ginny Weasley, can't you see the picture I take? It's dead and flat, but can't you still the pain? The anguish? Can't you see that I'm not real? And it's you that's killing me?

End.