Colin Creevey and the Search for a Hero: The Giant Serpent

CHAPTER TWELVE- GINNY

Colin spent that afternoon in his dormitory, trying to think up ways to earn money fast. He sort of wished he could re-read the copy of From Modern Muggle to Magic that he'd left with Dennis, but from what he remembered the book emphasized only three options- politics (working for the Ministry of Magic), retail (open a store), or teaching. Colin couldn't think of anything he could sell, and at the age of eleven knew he had no other options. He lay down on his bed, closing his eyes and waiting for inspiration.

He was interrupted by Rich and a second year student that he had never met, who wandered into his dormitory. Colin sat up quickly and smiled, forcing away all his dark thoughts. "Hullo, Colin," said Rich, "I was just telling Dean here about your photos of the castle. He's from a muggle family too. We've both been trying to describe everything to mum and dad, and here you've been able to show them what you mean. My hand was so cramped after Snape's last essay, the last thing I wanted to do was write home!"

Colin smiled as they looked at the collage above his bed. Most of the other students had a single poster, of their favorite Quidditch or football team. But above Colin's bed were his very best photos- the castle, the owl soaring over Hogwarts grounds, Professor McGonagall's desk transfiguring into a pig and then back into a desk again, softly simmering cauldrons- and of course, the autographed photo of himself with Professor Lockhart. He was looking forward to adding the double signed photo of himself with Lockhart and Harry (once Harry signed it) and a few photos of Harry playing Quidditch- he hoped one of the ones from this morning would turn out well.

"Wow, these are really nice shots," said Dean approvingly as he looked more closely at the photos.

"You think so?" said Colin, beaming with pride. "Thanks! Muggles can't see them move though, so I can't really show my dad everything. The ones moving the most just look blurry to him. But he could see the castle and the cauldrons OK, I think."

"Do you think I can have a copy of that castle photo?" asked Dean excitedly. "That would be wicked! I'd love to show that to my mum, I think she'd love it. She's always taking us around old castles in Wales during summer holiday."

"Sure!" said Colin. "I was going to make some other photos anyway tonight, I can make a copy of this too!"

"You're a regular photo studio, Colin. You know, I hear Felicity's ruined that copy of the photo you took of her with Professor Lockhart. I bet she's love a few extra copies- a few dozen maybe. I heard someone teasing her about keeping a copy under her pillow and drooling in her sleep." All three boys were in stitches over this one.

Dean, wiping the tears from his eyes and gasping for breath, asked "Which one is Felicity? The only first year Gryffindor girl I know is Ron's sister Ginny."

"Oh, Felicity is a bit hard to overlook. She's the one who fainted when George Weasley set of a Filibuster Firework in the common room last night, the blonde with perfect teeth? Her dad is actually fairly powerful at the ministry, from what Phil says."

"Well, I guess it's always a good idea to do favors for people like that," said Colin, hoping Felicity's dad had an endowment of some sort. "I can throw in a few photos for her too."

After dinner that night Colin headed back to the photo dungeon and turned the candles to licking red flames ('Incendio Sangre!') with hopeful thoughts swirling in his head. Maybe I can open a photo studio or print Hogwarts postcards or something, he thought. The hours went quickly as he cheerfully worked away, whistling and humming. It was much more fun brewing potions here alone than in Snape's class. He tried to imagine the look of revulsion on Snape's face if he'd started humming in Potions class and laughed out loud, his voice echoing in the empty dungeon. He was delighted at the Quidditch shots- Harry looked spectacular outracing the Weasleys with his Quidditch robes whipping behind him. When Colin's last photo had finally dried out he gathered up his things and returned the candles to their normal state ('Finite Incantatem!') and was almost skipping back to the common room when he noticed how unusually deserted the hallways seemed. A quick glance at his watch told him why- it was after midnight, he was out of bounds and should have been back in the common room ages ago! He froze suddenly, his good mood replaced by a gripping fear of getting caught. He wondered how many points he would lose for being out of bed, and whether they'd send some sort of humiliating letter home to his dad if he got a detention. He began walking very slowly and nervously, cringing at the echoing sound of his own footsteps and checking around every corner before heading down a new hallway. When he reached the first staircase it was perhaps the most frightening- there was nowhere to hide. Colin made it to the entrance hall without seeing anyone and proceeded up the grand staircase to Gryffindor tower.

On the second floor he heard footsteps and immediately jumped behind a large tapestry to his right, peering out cautiously to see who it was. Even at a distance, there was no mistaking the long vividly red hair of Ginny Weasley, who was walking away from a girls toilet and walking down the hallway rapidly with a blank look on her face. She was holding a book under her arm and obviously making no effort to hide or muffle her footsteps. Colin was both relieved that it wasn't a teacher and mystified why she was out of bounds. After glancing around to make sure she was alone, he tried to attract her attention.

"Oi! Ginny! Over here!" he whispered as loud as he dared. He was sure that she should have heard him, but she kept walking, expressionless as before, as though she had not. He came out from behind the tapestry and stood in front of her, waving. She looked right through him, seeming unusually pale, and kept going. Colin wondered if she were sleepwalking, except that she was dressed in all her warm robes and her eyes were wide open. She seemed to be headed up toward the common room, so he decided to follow her and hope he could keep them both out of trouble.

Ginny was moving past the third floor when Colin saw something else moving. He ducked behind a large suit of armor, which teetered briefly but to his relief did not tip over. Then holding his breath he peered out and saw the tall, red-headed frame of Ron Weasley moving slowly down the hallway with a pained look on his face and frequently rubbing his right arm. Colin was beginning to wonder if the restriction on being out of bed at night was enforced at all- or maybe the Weasley family had some weird exception. He realized with a thrill that if Ron was up to something, Harry probably was too, so he whipped out his wand (carefully, so as not to move the suit of armor) and whispered "Polo!" and was disappointed when his arm jerked almost directly upward toward the Gryffindor tower.

Ron , like Ginny, was making no obvious effort to hide, and Colin was about to try calling out to him when his heart stopped for a moment and he saw Filch, the caretaker, following Ron down the hallway. Filch seemed to hate the students- or so he'd heard. His clothes looked at least a century out of date, and his face looked only slightly younger. His greasy hair hung down about his snarling face and he prowled the hallway with his scrawny cat, Mrs. Norris. Colin ducked back into hiding, hoping that the rumors of how awful it was to be caught out of bounds by Filch were exaggerated and wondering what Filch had done to Ron's arm. He stayed very still and listened, picking up the very faint footsteps of Ginny, who by now was well out of sight up the staircase, and fragments of conversation between Ron and Filch.

"Yeh'll think more carefully next time, won't you now laddie? I've let you off easy tonight..."

"Easy?" Ron made a derisive noise that became what sounded like it must be another slug burp like the one Colin had seen that morning.

"Not on my nice clean floors, you don't! You'll clean that up before you go to bed, or you'll be back tomorrow night, do you hear me? Perhaps tomorrow you could polish the old manacles hanging from the ceiling of my office. I always keep them ready just in case the Headmaster decides to use some of the old punishments again," he mused sadistically.

"Yeah, fine, I'll clean it..." said a weary sounding Ron. There were more sounds of footsteps and then some quick sloshing and scrubbing noises. How long he'd been waiting there Colin did not know, but his sense of panic kept rising as he noticed Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, sniffing the air and heading slowly toward his suit of armor.

Finally after more footsteps and sloshing noises which drowned out a few meows from the cat, he heard Filch say "Come along then, my sweet," and saw Mrs. Norris hesitate but then follow him down the stairs as Ron trudged up toward Gryffindor tower. Colin cautiously emerged from behind the suit of armor and followed Ron at a distance through a few hidden doors and tapestries and up the stairs all the way to the Gryffindor tower boys dormitories. He entered his dormitory, threw his newly developed photos down on the heap of possessions at the foot of his bed (where everyone else kept a trunk) and got into his pajamas. Really, he thought as he drifted off to sleep, it's not so hard sneaking around at night.

In the week since his conversation with Professor McGonagall, Colin hadn't found a way to earn even so much as a knut. Evidently the pictures of Hogwarts looked like some ugly spooky ruin to the Muggle parents of his friends, so the idea of selling postcards wasn't any help. It was obvious that Dad hadn't bothered looking at them long enough to tell Dennis what he saw, Colin realized with a twinge of hurt and frustration. Colin had, however, had a number of other new experiences since then, and was thoroughly enjoying himself and trying not to think about how to pay for next term. An hour ago he was trying to turn a walnut into a Golden Snitch, but he had succeeded only in making it sort of a lighter brown color.

"Is there some way to turn walnuts into gold galleons? Now that would be something worth learning!" he whispered miserably in Charms as he practiced swishing arm motions with his wand.

"There's not," said Ginny, absently poking a finger through a hole in her frayed robes and glancing toward a very battered looking transfiguration textbook. "I don't know why not though. I wish there was."

"Well, of course there used to be," said Mhairi. "The Philosopher's Stone would turn any metal into as much gold as you want, as well as making you immortal. But obviously the ministry would have to restrict making new money magically! Otherwise, why would anyone work, and how could people sell things?" This didn't seem at all obvious to Colin until she'd said so, but he wasn't about to point that out. He was pretty sure he couldn't just magic more money out of thin air, but hearing it confirmed was pretty discouraging.

Mhairi continued, "I know the leprechauns can make something like gold, but it disappears after a few hours; they think it's funny. Other than that, there's just the Philosopher's Stone. What did you say they did with the Philosopher's Stone last year after Harry saved it from You-Know-Who?" she asked Ginny.

They both glanced over toward Ginny, who didn't seem to have heard them. "Ginny?" asked Mhairi, stopping her wand movements to look at Ginny more closely. Ginny was looking paler than usual, her bloodless face contrasting with her flaming red hair. She was staring ahead with a blank glassy expression and waving her wand mechanically in the swish and flick motion with her right arm but didn't seem to be seeing or hearing anything around her. Mhairi waved her hands about an inch in front of Ginny's nose. "Ginny!" But Ginny still didn't react at all.

"What's up with her?" Felicity asked curiously from Colin's other side.

"Dunno," Colin shrugged. But it looks exactly like what was up the other night, he thought. Maybe she needs a hearing aid or something.

"Ginny!" Mhairi was yelling now, and she grabbed Ginny's left arm that had been resting on a stack of books and shook it.

Ginny dropped the wand from her other hand and blinked several times. "Wha?" she said, her face growing even paler and more ghostlike with the embarrassment of realizing that half the class, including Professor Flitwick, were all staring at her. She smiled back weakly, looking very tired. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Are you all right, Ginny?" asked Mhairi, concerned.

"I- er- I dunno, I guess so, yeah," she answered unconvincingly.

Professor Flitwick peered at her closely in an awkward pause and then continued with his lesson. At the end of class, Ginny piled her things into her bookbag slowly, as if each one required great effort. Then she hefted the bag onto her shoulder and wandered out without talking to anyone.

"Is she sick?" asked Mhairi as they walked to lunch. "She should see Madam Pomfrey, lots of people have colds."

"I'm not sure that she's sick really," said Colin, lowering his voice and leaning in closer as he explained, "I saw her wandering off in her own world late at night just like that- out of bounds, even- but I thought she was sleepwalking."

Mhairi's brow furrowed. "What were you doing out of bounds?" she frowned. Colin didn't answer, and they separated to their house tables when they reached the lunch room. Colin took the seat next to Ginny, who was listening to her brother Percy natter on about how Fred and George and Ron weren't setting a good example for her to follow. "Mind if I sit here?" Colin asked.

"Not at all. Hullo, Colin," said Percy. Ginny smiled tiredly.

"Feeling any better?" asked Colin.

"I'm OK, I'm just tired," said Ginny.

"What, is she sick?" asked Percy, alarmed. He looked more closely at her. "You do look really pale, Ginny. Mum will have my head if you're sick and I don't see to it that you get better. I can write to her for some chicken soup or something... but you should really see Madam Pomfrey right away."

"That's just what Mhairi was saying," nodded Colin.

"But I don't think... " began Ginny weakly.

"Her Pepperup Potion works right away. Loads of students have colds this time of year, it's been so rainy and wet. And you really don't seem yourself. You can clear off right now, you'll still make it to your classes after lunch on time. I don't want to have to write Mum and tell her how you're getting on." Percy acted as though the issue was settled.

Ginny dropped her fork and knife without comment and sighed heavily, leaving her barely touched plate of beans on toast and muttering, "Fine," as she lifted her bookbag again and left for the hospital wing.

"You know, maybe you should have let her finish eating first," suggested Colin, who was suddenly realizing that he couldn't remember the last time he saw Ginny clear her plate, not even at the welcome banquet.

"I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will have her bouncing back in no time," Percy replied.

That afternoon in Potions, smoke was pouring from Ginny's ears (a side effect of the Pepperup potion) but she looked just as pale and tired as she had been that morning. In the hallway waiting for class Peeves the Poltergeist teased her about her flame colored hair and all the smoke, pretending her head was on fire and throwing a bucket of water on her face, which seemed to only make things worse as Ginny shivered in the chilly dungeons, clad in sodden robes. Colin unpacked his potions things from his cauldron and listened to Professor Snape's instructions.

"Today you will be brewing Sticky Solution," he began with a sneer. "Madam Hooch has requested the Sticky Solution in response to student complaints about the invisible cushions on the school broomsticks. It seems that some students feel that the cushions on the older brooms are falling off, and so Madam Hooch and I have offered you the opportunity to stick them back on before your first flying lesson tomorrow, if you can manage to brew the potion correctly this afternoon." He gestured toward a row of broomsticks neatly stacked against one wall. With an evil grin on his face, he added "Of course, if you don't brew the solution adequately, you will feel the difference tomorrow."

In no time, Colin's cauldron was simmering away with a golden brown solution and Snape was sweeping around the room, praising anything a Slytherin had done well and criticizing only the Gryffindors' errors. Today there had been a large number of errors to sneer at- Felicity's solution thickened too quickly and became a black, tarry mess stuck to her cauldron in a matter of seconds. Snape's criticism had brought her to tears, and she seemed unsure whether to try to rescue what she had or start over again. Several other students seemed dangerously close to having their potion turn out like hers. Ginny was standing staring at her half-full cauldron without chopping anything or stirring the potion at all and seemed headed for trouble.

"You still don't look well, Ginny. Maybe you should head to the hospital wing. It's really spooky to see you so out of it."

"What do you mean, out of it? I'm just tired," she whined, snapping out of her reverie. "I wish Percy had left me alone."

"But it's weird, you don't see or hear anything around you, like you were in Charms today," he lowered his voice, "Or wandering down the hallway last Saturday after midnight-"

"I haven't been out of bounds!" she whispered, shocked. "I don't know what you mean. I- I was - up in my dormitory writing in my diary last Saturday night. I'm fine, Colin, I'm just tired, and I don't want to be fussed over!" she said looking confused and irritated, and she turned away.

Just then Snape called the attention of the class to the way Slytherin Charon Morkoth had added her diced frog liver at just the right speed. Colin glanced over at Charon's cauldron and snorted, rolling his eyes. It wasn't like it took any special talent to add the frog liver; the tricky step was dicing the pickled murtlap growth and adding that to the Potion. He was about to tell that to Chuck when he noticed that Chuck was looking cross as he ladled his runny yellow potion hopelessly. Colin looked over at Charon and noticed that she wasn't beaming with pride like the other Slytherins who had been praised, even though her potion seemed to be doing better than most of her classmates. Instead, she looked mortified and angry, as though she knew she didn't deserve the lauds. She dislikes Snape as much as I do. She doesn't like to be singled out just because she's in Slytherin. Colin felt sorry for her suddenly, even sorrier than he was for his classmates who struggled with their potions. Snape swept over to Colin's cauldron and paused, as usual, as if determined to find something wrong. Finally he gave Colin a piercing look and swept away wordlessly. Colin knew his potion happened to look perfect, and he intended to force Snape to admit it sooner or later.

A few seconds later, Charon's potion was in serious trouble. It had turned brown and was thickening much too fast, and she was anxiously reducing the flame and trying to stir. Colin knew she had less than a minute before her potion ended up like Felicity's.

"Teacher's pet's not all that hot, is she?" muttered Chuck, grinning. All the Gryffindors seemed delighted at the prospect that Snape's model student would go down in flames- all except Colin. He felt very sorry for her, more than anything else.

Charon looked around in a panic and caught Colin's eye. She mouthed "Help!" and looked at him pleadingly.

Colin paused. "Beetle juice," Colin mouthed back, not sure why he was helping.

Charon's face brightened, and she nodded, grabbing a vial of beetle juice and adding a few drops to the potion and stirring feverishly. It worked. Several minutes later her potion was still thicker than it should have been, but disaster had been narrowly averted. Professor Snape stopped by Charon's cauldron again. "Did everyone notice the way that Charon has saved her potion from becoming too thick by adding just a few drops of beetle juice at the right moment? That showed excellent resourcefulness. Five points for Slytherin." Charon blushed and looked abashedly across the room at Colin as if to say thanks and sorry. Snape seemed to notice, and turned quickly to follow her eyes across the room as Colin pretended to be busily stirring his potion. At the end of class it was Colin's Sticky Solution that was used on most of the cushions, though a few Slytherins insisted on using Charon's and had to reapply it several times. Charon managed to avoid sticking one on herself. Colin wondered which solution she would have used.

When class was ended, it looked like Charon was about to come to talk to him when she was pulled away by some Slytherin friends. Colin packed his stuff and headed for Charms, but ran into Phil waiting for him right outside the door. "What do you think you're doing, helping that lot? She's a Slytherin, Colin, and speaking for your housemates we could all have used your help today. Felicity is still in tears, Chuck feels horrid, and Ginny was barely functioning all day. And you had to help Snape's favorite, and earn points for Slytherin while you were at it? Thanks a lot, Colin." Phil spat out these last words bitterly, looking irate, and stormed away without waiting for an answer.

Why did I help her? Colin wondered. He only said one word. If he'd told Felicity "Beetle juice" he was sure she would have added too much or too little and still wound up in a mess. Even if he'd figured out what Chuck had left out it would have been too late to fix things. And Ginny still seemed lost in another universe, helping her would've meant doing it for her. But even as he justified it to himself, he was kicking himself at the same time. A fat lot of help Charon would have been to me if I'd gotten stuck. She did what Slytherins do best- she used whatever means she could to reach her goal. She used me. Phil is right, I let everybody down. And yet he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he would help her all over again, but he couldn't put his finger on why. Frustrated at himself and everything else, he decided not to think about it again.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN- THE BIRTHDAY PARTY

The next day, Colin had a distraction that took his mind off Ginny completely. Professor Lockhart asked him to stay behind after class, and he walked past the usual group of giggling girls that surrounded his desk as the lunch bell rang.

"Ah, Mr. Creevey, I have an opportunity for you!" Lockhart said, clasping his hands together before his lavender robes and smiling broadly. "Professor McGonagall informed the staff that you were - er- hoping to earn a bit of money, and I think I have just the thing," he said, tapping his nose with his forefinger.

"Oh, yes please!" said Colin enthusiastically, hardly believing his luck.

Professor Lockhart smiled again. "Well, it just so happens that next Friday is my thirty-fifth birthday!" Lockhart paused, and Colin sensed that he was supposed to comment on this, so he replied.

"Oh! Happy Birthday Professor!"

"Yes, yes, thank you!" beamed Lockhart, waving his hand dismissively. Then he continued, "Each year I invite about a hundred or so of my dearest fans to my birthday party to join me in celebrating- me!" he said winking. "I usually hire a professional photographer to capture the moment, but given your interest in photography and the fact that you're a fan yourself, I thought perhaps you'd like to take the job this year, for ten galleons. Of course I can give you useful advice on how to improve your photos- I'm something of a photographer myself, wherever I travel I always keep my camera there."

"Oh. yes, Professor, I'd like that very much!" he said, bouncing with excitement.

"Let's meet up on Friday afternoon then, and I can give you some pointers and explain what I have in mind."

"Thank you, Professor, I can't wait!" Colin answered.

Ten galleons! he thought, excitedly. Then he realized how far ten galleons was from the five hundred he needed and swallowed hard. He pushed that out of his mind and forced himself to focus on getting ten shiny galleons and how honored he was to be going to this party at all.

Friday afternoon he met Lockhart to receive his instructions. "I'd like a photograph of myself with each guest (to send to them after), photos of me with the birthday cake in each of my robes, me with the band, that sort of thing. I've arranged to use the Great Hall, after dinner, of course- mind you bring plenty of film!" Lockhart cried out cheerily. His tips on how to take good photos were somewhat less than helpful. "Always make sure the lens cap is off before you push the button! Try to have your subject- me- in the center of every frame. Hold your hands as still as you can while pushing the button! Make sure you're not too far away so you can see my smile!" and so on. It occurred to Colin that Lockhart seemed to know even less than he did about photography- but then, who wouldn't be a little egoistic, if they had fought and subdued so many dark creatures as he had?

To his great relief, Colin found that most of the broomsticks were adequately cushioned for their first flying lesson. The comfort, however, didn't result in any spectacular feats on the broomsticks. He nearly fell off every time he tried to turn left, and Chuck's broom had a slight list downward and to the left that he had to keep fighting like a broken wheel on a supermarket cart. Colin wondered how Harry made it look so easy.

That night before he wrote an essay for Professor Flitwick on Levitation Charms he sent Dennis almost all of the muggle money he had left with instructions to buy more film, along with another long letter and his latest photos. By Colin's calculation, he would only be making two galleons profit on the party, since the film cost the equivalent of eight galleons. He hoped he ended up with leftover film. Fortunately, now that he knew about Floo powder and portkeys from the From Modern Muggle to Magic ook, he no longer needed money for the train ride between London and Liverpool- he just needed to find a magical place near home that he could get to for Christmas and at the end of the year. Chuck had offered to lend him a pinch or two of Floo powder until he could buy his own in Diagon Alley during the Christmas holidays. And any profit was that much closer to staying here at Hogwarts.

Colin took several deep breaths and surveyed himself in the mirror. He could hardly believe it was time for Lockhart's party already, and he'd checked and double checked his camera and film and even washed behind his ears for the occasion, and tried to look extra nice.

He left his dormitory and was just exiting the portrait hole when Felicity was on her way in from dinner. "Is it true?" she asked breathlessly. "Chuck says you're taking photos of Professor Lockhart's birthday party!"

Colin smiled. "Yeah, I'm really lucky he asked me."

Felicity paused. "Do you think you could help me get in? I could be your assistant! And I'd love to have a copy of some of the photos-"

Colin laughed, "I haven't even taken the photos yet! And I don't think I can get you in, probably everyone there will be important and you would stand out too much." At this, Felicity pouted and flounced away angrily, leaving Colin wondering what he'd said wrong. But he shrugged and headed into the Great Hall.

It was hard for Colin to remember that dinner had ended only moments before. Gone were the great tables for each house. While no guests had arrived yet, there were numerous small round tables each seating about six that were clustered around the edges of the room. In one front corner, the band was setting up their drums. In the other front corner, someone seemed to be setting up a huge cake and hiding it from view. And across the front of the hall where the teachers usually sat were two chairs. One was a large chair made of polished teak with gold trim and plush burgundy cushions. It was easily big enough to be a throne. Next to it was a much simpler and smaller oak chair with a matching burgundy cushion. All around the walls were framed photos of a winking, smiling Lockhart, and burgundy streamers soared across the ceiling. Lockhart came striding toward Colin, resplendent in robes of Navy blue.

"Excellent, Mr. Creevey so glad to see you here!" he said, smiling broadly. He directed Colin to start with pictures of the room and the cake and then spend most of the evening photographing Lockhart with the guests. Colin nervously started snapping photos of the decorations and the band as the guests began to arrive. To Colin's surprise, they were mostly witches, very few wizards, and almost all of them were about his mum's age. The guests wore fancy robes of all different colors, which made the Great Hall look very different from when it was filled with students wearing a uniform Hogwarts black. The band played softly in one corner and witches queued up in front of the great throne, patting their hair. Lockhart nodded for Colin to stand before the throne, and then Lockhart swept in to great applause and took a seat on the huge chair. Each guest shook Lockhart's hand, asked him to sign a book or two, and then sat in the smaller chair and smiled for the camera. Colin was startled to hear Professor Lockhart's voice behind him when he could see the professor in the photo directly in front of him. He turned and looked around quickly. The dance floor was entirely empty except for a long line leading to Lockhart's chair, but a small machine in one of the back corners of the room was blowing burgundy bubbles which each said a sentence or so in Lockhart's voice when they popped.

"My ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples," he heard from somewhere on his left as he took a picture of Lockhart with a smiling blonde witch. After an hour of this, Colin's shoulder ached and he was thankful for the breaks every half hour when Lockhart changed to a different colored robe. He had to admit he was exhausted, though he tried to smile pleasantly even at the woman who had gotten in line five different times for a new photo.

Finally, Lockhart seemed to decide that everyone had been photographed at least once and he wandered over to the hidden cake table, his glittering silver robes sparkling against the burgundy drapes. "And now, the moment you've all been waiting for," he said, clapping his hands twice as the drape was pulled aside to reveal a magnificent five-tiered birthday cake. Dozens of miniature models of himself about five inches tall in all different colored robes were wandering around the different tiers of the cake. "If I may say a few words," he asked, as the crowd murmured their approval of the spectacular cake.

"I'd like to thank all of you for coming here today to celebrate my birthday! It was thirty-five years ago today that I entered this world, and already I've made such a difference!" The crowd nodded in agreement. Colin scanned the crowd quickly during Lockhart's speech and was surprised that Harry wasn't here, and neither were any of the other professors, or anyone who looked like a dignitary of any sort. He quickly realized he ought to be taking photos again and drew his attention back to Lockhart, who was finishing his speech, as Colin snapped away. ".... and so if you would all raise your glasses... to me!"

All his guests raised elegant glasses full of some sparkling fluid and toasted "To you!" as they drank. Lockhart began to cut the cake, and three of the miniature Lockharts surveyed their reflection in the blade of the cake knife. Several guests began scooping the miniature Lockharts into their purses. Colin was beginning to feel sickened by the party but he couldn't quite put his finger on why. He just suddenly didn't ever want to see a picture of Lockhart again. He decided he must be very tired, was all. He felt relieved and very weary hours later when the last guests left.

"A job well done, Mr. Creevey! How fast can you get these developed for me?" Lockhart asked cheerfully.

Colin paused, surveying a heap of completed rolls of film, and suppressed the sickened swoop in his stomach when he thought about how many hours that would be of developing pictures of the person he least wanted to look at right now, though he still didn't know why he felt that way. "Er- next weekend, maybe?" he offered optimistically.

Lockhart looked slightly disappointed, but kept smiling. "I'll add a galleon if you can do them by Wednesday," he beamed. "The sooner the better!"

A large burgundy bubble popped on Colin's sleeve, and he heard "One of my secret ambitions is to market my own range of hair care products!" Colin stammered, "Thank you, and Happy Birthday, Professor, wonderful party..." and he nearly tripped over his robes in his haste to leave the great hall.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN- DENNIS' MISTAKE

Dennis awoke on a rainy Saturday in October to find a spotted brown owl outside his window. He brought it in quickly and dried off the latest stack of photographs and then unrolled the long letter. Colin's letters were always the bright spot in his week, and this week he needed that somewhat more than usual because it had been a very discouraging week. He'd gotten two bloody noses for "being weird" and yesterday he was chased by a bully all the way to Mrs. Godfrey's doorstep. Since Colin had gone, Dennis had been spending more and more time with Mrs. Godfrey. He's also spent loads of time washing cars ever since Colin had written about losing the scholarship. He hadn't found the courage to tell Dad yet, he just left the letter open out on the table hoping Dad would read it, but so far Dad had shown no interest in the letter, he was far more interested in playing cards with his friends. Dennis had tried showing Dad the photos, but Dad couldn't see things moving, to him the pictures just looked blurry. Dennis decided it was better that Colin shouldn't know that Dad wasn't reading the letters. But then, the fact that they were all addressed to Dennis and not Dad seemed to say something about what Colin expected anyway. Dad must have some funny way of showing he loves us, he thought, and we just haven't noticed it yet. So far Dennis had earned thirty quid per weekend, but he had caught a cold last weekend working outside in wet clothes, and this weekend it was raining too hard to consider washing cars. School had been unbelievably dull, perhaps even more so compared with Colin's descriptions of Hogwarts.

The owl flapped around a bit to shake the water off its feathers and stood near the radiator ruffling its feathers to warm and dry itself for a few moments. It looked reluctant to head back out the window into the storm. "If you wait around, you can take a reply back," he offered hopefully. The owl hooted an answer happily. Dennis was looking forward to hearing about Lockhart's party, but Colin had hardly mentioned it at all. Instead, he talked about the upcoming Halloween feast with pumpkins big enough to stand in and the start of Quidditch season soon. The snapshots of Harry on his broom were great, and there was one of Lockhart (whom Dennis recognized by now) with an elaborate cake. It just took his breath away!

Dennis pulled out a paper towel (he had no stationery) and tried to think of a reply. He didn't want to write about Dad, or about the bullies at school. He decided to write about his walks in the park with Mrs. Godfrey and Mum's recent letter saying she was coming to England for a concert tour next year. He hoped Mum would stay this time. He reminded Colin to send a "Halloween photo" for mum and asked for more information about Lockhart's party. Then he sent off the owl and wondered what to do with himself for the rest of the day. What he wanted was to talk to Colin, but of course that wasn't possible. But really, he just wanted someone to talk to, and there was only one person he could choose: Mrs. Godfrey.

He decided to bring some of Colin's photos with him to talk about, and he quickly sifted through them to exclude anything that was obviously magical, like flying broomsticks. He ended up with a suit of armor, the castle, the lake, Hagrid's hut, and a few other stationary objects. He tiptoed through the living room past Dad, asleep on the couch with empty beer bottles and playing cards scattered all around him. Once Dennis was out the door he quickly headed out through the rain to Mrs. Godfrey's apartment hoping to find a more welcoming audience than Dad.

Every time he went to visit Mrs. Godfrey she seemed to be walking slower and smiling more sadly. Her daughter was continually being sent all over the country for her business, leaving Mrs. Godfrey at home alone. "Hullo, Colin," she said smiling tiredly today. "Lonely day with all this rain, isn't it? I suppose we lonely ones are doing well to look out for one another. Would you like some Toad-in-the-Hole, Dennis? I was thinking of cooking some but it's not worth the trouble just for me. Then you can tell me what Colin is up to and that will cheer both of us."

The Toad-in-the-Hole was especially good, it reminded Dennis of his grandmother's cooking and was yet another reminder of why he missed Colin: he hadn't had a warm meal since Colin had left. He'd been kicking himself for not learning how to bake spuds when he had the chance, and he tried to pay lots of attention when Mrs. Godfrey was cooking. They were looking over the photos as they ate, and Dennis tried to remember to chew and swallow each mouthful before talking about the next photo.

"Such an old castle. It looks like it's in ruins! Must be in Scotland or Wales, to have all those hills around, I think. It's hard to imagine that place is full of students," she commented.

"I like old castles," said Dennis, "I don't think it's run down," he puzzled over the photo.

"Suits of armor in the hallway! Well, this is old, those look authentic to me, and well maintained. How old is this school?"

"Hogwarts was founded a thousand years ago," began Dennis brightly, "by four of the best wi- professors, and each house is named after one of them."

Mrs. Godfrey nodded approvingly. "I wonder why I've never heard of it. Is it very small?" she mused, sifting through the photos. She picked up one and paused, staring at it with increasingly knitted brows. "I can't even tell what this is. What am I looking at, love?" she held the photo out in front of Dennis' face. To his horror, he realized it was a photo of Colin's transfiguration lesson, of Professor McGonagall's desk changing into a pig and back again.

Dennis choked on his forkful of lunch and stared at the photo mouthing wordlessly in his panic at letting that one slip through into the stack of nonmagical-looking photos. There had been no zooming objects, so it was easy to overlook. But what did she see when she looked at it? If the moving photos looked blurry, perhaps this was a focused room with an out of focus desk. Or, perhaps she could see just a desk or just a pig. He took a deep breath and tried to sound casual despite the long pause before his reply. "Oh, that's just a teacher's desk. And this one-"

"A desk?" laughed Mrs. Godfrey, squinting at the photo. "No, my eyes aren't that bad! What is it, now?" she said, holding it right in front of him.

Dennis heard his voice squeaking out, "Did I say desk? I meant it's a pig!"

Mrs. Godfrey paused and Dennis felt his face turning bright red. "Don't be ridiculous," she began, "Now why would they have a pig at school?" She watched his mounting panic and in a slow soothing voice said, "There's something you're not telling me, Dennis. Is something wrong?"

"Well... I didn't mean to bring that one... I just didn't notice... we're not supposed to tell anyone... but you believe me, don't you, you have to if you can see it..." he tripped over his words not knowing what to say.

"Dear, dear! It's all right now, take a deep breath and let's try again. I wasn't supposed to see this picture, was I?"

Dennis shook his head no.

"Did Colin do something to his teacher's desk? Is he going to be in trouble, is that it?"

Looking back on it later, he realized this would have been the easy way out. But before he'd thought it through, he found himself blurting out, "No, Colin doesn't know how to do that yet!" There was another long pause, during which Dennis was very aware of his quick breaths. Then Mrs. Godfrey said slowly. "Right. So, what exactly happened to his teacher's desk?"

Dennis tried to think up a lie, but couldn't. Finally, he muttered, "She transformed it into a pig."

"Transformed?" There was a long pause while Mrs. Godfrey slid her glasses down to the end of her nose and scrutinized the photo with narrowed eyes. Then suddenly, her eyes opened wide and she dropped the photo with a scream.

Dennis looked up at her, frightened.

"It's moving!" she said, backing away from the table in confusion and pointing at the picture. "I thought it was a desk with a head and tail glued on each end, and then suddenly it started to change back and forth between a desk and a pig!" Dennis nodded.

"You see it moving too? I haven't gone mad?" she asked weakly.

Dennis shook his head no, and then cringed and began to explain. "See, it's a wizard photo. They all move if you develop them in the right potion..." Mrs. Godfrey's eyes turned to the other photos spread out over the table and she gasped as if seeing them for the first time, horrified.

"Why didn't I see it before? The suit of armor is walking...the stars are twinkling... the castle, oh, heavens, look at the beautiful castle! Dennis, what's happened?"

Dennis felt guilty at how badly he'd shocked her, but there was really no going back now. "Well, it's like this," he began with a deep breath. "Colin is a wizard. We weren't supposed to tell anyone because non-magical people don't know that wizards exist. He's gone to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and all the photos in the magical world can move. Only I thought non-magical people couldn't see it. I'm really sorry I've given you such a fright, I didn't mean to! Please don't tell anyone that I told you, it's supposed to be a secret."

Mrs. Godfrey was still patting her chest and hyperventilating slightly but she seemed to be slowly calming down, to his great relief. "A wizard? Like hocus pocus?" she asked incredulously. Colin nodded.

"Well, now I've seen everything," she said sitting down slowly. "I've lived all my life thinking magic didn't exist- I suppose it won't start hurting me now if it hasn't so far," she said, as if trying to convince herself. Then she turned to Dennis and smiled. "Don't worry, I won't tell your secret. I'm still not entirely sure I believe you, mind, but I can't think of anything else to explain this except that I've gone mad, and I'd rather believe in magic than believe I'm crazy. So here we are." Dennis felt warm relief wash over him and he smiled back.

"So tell me all about this magical world of Colin's," she began curiously and a bit fearfully, and Dennis knew this would be the best day he'd had since Colin had left.