Colin Creepy

Harry was Triwizard Champion. He beat Cedric and that veela and that crummy guy. They hadn't had a chance. What were they thinking, going up against Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived? Going up against my best friend?

And to think, I, Colin Creevey, had made it all possible. I still didn't really know how the Goblet of Fire had spat out Harry's name; it probably recognized his enormous genius. How could it not?

There were so many rumors after the last challenge. Some said Diggory was dead; others said Vol...You-Know-Who had risen again (those were mostly the Slytherins) and some even said that Harry was dead too. I didn't believe the rumors, especially that last one. How could Harry have died? He was the Boy Who Lived! Even if Diggory were dead, and even if You-Know-Who had risen again, Harry could stand against him. He had done it before, hadn't he? He was the Boy Who Lived!

A few days after the last challenge was over, we all found out that Cedric had, indeed, died during the last challenge. He probably got run over by a Blast-Ended Skrewt or something. He was in Hufflepuff; he had to be sort of stupid. Besides, he was tied with Harry for first place! Of course he wasn't going to win!

The other third-years and I found out in double Care of Magical Creatures class. We had Creatures with Hufflepuff, so there was a lot of crying. All of the girls thought Cedric was really something, I guess. I suppose he was handsome enough. I wouldn't know anything about that. I thought he was a bit of a prat; especially to go up against Harry Potter. But again, he was in Hufflepuff.

I'll bet Harry had tried his best to save Cedric. I'll bet Harry had done something amazing in that maze, and no one was there to see it. That Harry. Always the hero, and no one there to witness it.

But one day I would be there to witness his heroics. I would be right there by his side; his best friend there for him always.

At the Leaving Feast, everything was really quiet. I don't know why; I felt like shouting and cheering. Harry had won the Triwizard Tournament; Harry had evaded Voldemort again (if the rumors were true, that is). Harry was a hero. And he was not being celebrated.

Harry's heroics were going unrewarded again. My best friend was not even being noticed. Again.

I scowled up at Dumbledore. Dumbledore with his powerful allies and his stupid sayings and his stupid rules. He never noticed a single thing Harry did, when Harry had probably saved his life a million times anyway.

Dumbledore looked down at us, at the Gryffindor table, with those strange blue eyes. They were so sad, though. I had never seen Dumbledore so upset.

Maybe he wants to acknowledge Harry; he just can't because of what happened to Diggory. Maybe that's why there aren't any Gryffindor colors in the Great Hall, even though we won the Interhouse Cup. Because he has to show respect to stupid old dead Ced, the one Hufflepuff who mattered.

I hated Cedric. He was dead and he was still taking the glory away from my best friend. I glanced across the table at Harry, who looked very tired and very sad. I wanted to jump across the table and make him feel better. Best friends were supposed to do that sort of thing.

But no. The Mudblood and the Muggle-lover surrounded him. As always. I wondered if he felt bad that he had not been able to save Diggory. Certainly he had done all he could; he couldn't kill himself just to save a Hufflepuff. He was Harry Potter! He was more important than that!

The Leaving Feast began. It was very solemn. Even Dumbledore didn't joke like he usually did at banquets. He just talked about what had happened to Cedric.

I was wrong; it wasn't a Blast-Ended Skrewt that got old Diggory. He had been killed by You-Know-Who. And Harry had brought back his body, and risked his life while doing so. Dumbledore made a toast to Diggory, and then he made one to Harry.

My best friend was finally being honored. Being honored for his heroics. I was so proud. I raised my goblet full of pumpkin juice high and nearly shouted "Harry Potter" at the toast. I looked over at Harry. He simply sat there, his eyes downcast. Everyone was toasting him, and still he was not happy.

......If everyone had been toasting ME, I would've been grinning from ear to ear. Dead Ced or no dead Ced.

But then again, I wasn't as heroic or brave or courageous as Harry Potter. That's why I was his best friend. So I could learn to be like him, I guess.

School ended and I went back to Dad. Dennis and I told him all about the Triwizard Tournament and I told him all about Harry and his exploits. Dad sure liked Harry. I was so glad he liked my best friend. When I talked about Harry, Dad's eyes shone. He was proud that his son had such an important friend.

So was I. I was best friends with Harry Potter, the Triwizard Champion.

The summer was boring, as all of my summers were. I helped Dad with his milk route; I helped Dennis with his pronunciation of spells and charms; I continued to have the same nightmare of the day Mum went away. I could never really remember how the dream began. All I could really remember from it were Dad's tears.

Sometimes I thought I could hear a vaguely familiar voice in the dream, though. It sounded so familiar. And it was shouting the Killing Curse.

Well, it was just a dream. It didn't mean anything. No matter what that old bat Trelawney said. She had told me the previous year that I would have to beware of a man with yellow eyes. Whoever heard of a man with yellow eyes? She was a nut. And I knew for a fact that Harry didn't like her. That was good enough for me. Besides, divination was a bunch of malarkey anyway. Professor McGonagall said so.

I didn't try to practice any spells over the summer. Last summer I had had to keep a sharp lookout for owls flying by the house. I was afraid one of them might have a letter telling Dad about the stuff I was doing to the mice in the barn. I'm not supposed to do magic outside of school.

Another one of Dumbledore's stupid rules. The old fool.

This summer I just read my books and helped Dennis along and read the Daily Prophet. Dad said I could get a subscription. There was a lot about Harry in there, and how he had won the Triwizard Tournament. There was also a lot about Hagrid and how he had taken a vacation. There was even an article about the nice reporter who had talked to me at one of Harry's challenges. Apparently she had gone missing.

I guess one of her relatives took over or something. It was still a Skeeter name. Nosiness must run in that family.

I was so glad when school was about to begin. I took Dad and Dennis to Diagon Alley and we shopped for school supplies. I got a bunch of great new books with the money I had earned over the summer. Dennis spent most of his in Gambol and Japes. He really liked those Weasley twins. I think he wanted to be like them. He was certainly on his way; he knew lots of pranking charms.

I saw Harry as Dad and Dennis and I were walking out of Flourish and Blotts. He was walking out of Quality Quidditch Supplies. With the Muggle-lover and Mudblood in tow, as usual. He seemed a lot happier; he laughed at the Muggle-lover's jokes.

...He never laughed at any of my jokes......

Well, he was probably just being kind. That Harry, always wanting people to feel good about them. It's too bad the Muggle-lover was always following him around like that.

Having someone follow you around must be really annoying.

I ran over to Harry and said hello. He seemed surprised to see me; I guess it's because he didn't know I would be at Diagon Alley. For some reason, we always forgot to give each other our addresses before the summer.

I introduced Dad and Dennis to my best friend. I was so glad they didn't embarrass me. The Mudblood and Muggle-lover were still hanging around; I didn't want to look like a fool, especially in front of them. That way, I could show them what a real best friend was like.

I talked to Harry for a few minutes. People stopped and stared at us; especially at Harry. One time, a really young witch came and asked for his autograph. Harry seemed puzzled; wasn't he used to things like that? He was, after all, the Boy Who Lived.

Well, Harry and I could've stood in the middle of the sidewalk and talked all day, but he had to get back to his uncle's house. And I had to go take Dennis to the bathroom; he was hopping from one foot to the other. He was so embarrassing. Harry just laughed.

That Harry.

I was so glad when the first day of September finally came. I couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts, with new classes and my old bed and all of my pictures of my best friend, Harry, playing Quidditch. I couldn't wait.

I even got to sit beside Harry on the Hogwarts Express! I think he saved the seat especially for me. I talked and laughed with him a lot. We talked about Quidditch some; Harry was still on the Gryffindor team, of course, and he was talking about how he was going to knock that Malfoy prat off of his broom.

The Mudblood and Muggle-lover were there, though. They laughed at his jokes too. I laughed harder. They didn't know how to be best friends. I hate them.

I hate Malfoy too. He's always making fun of my best friend. Just because Harry's mum was a Muggle. I think he's jealous, personally. Jealous because he's not the Boy Who Lived and he's not the greatest Quidditch Seeker in the world, like my best friend.

Him and his stupid Slytherin goons. I hate Slytherins. I can't believe I was almost put into the House.

But I pretended to like the Mudblood and Muggle-lover on the train. Just for Harry's sake. I laughed at the Muggle-lover's stupid jokes and I only rolled my eyes when no one was looking when the Mudblood talked about her classes. She wasn't that smart. When she was telling Harry and the Muggle-lover about the Guilderian troll uprising in 1274, I almost started laughing at her. She got her dates all mixed up, and her pronunciation of the troll leaders' names was horrible.

Obviously, she hadn't learned Troll, as I had. Well, she was a Mudblood. I suppose there should be allowances.

When the train ride ended, I lost Harry in the crowd of students milling outside the Hogwarts Express. I didn't even get to sit by him at the Sorting. He was flanked by the Mudblood and Muggle-lover. Well, we were still best friends. We didn't need to be around each other all the time.

Something the Mudblood and Muggle-lover obviously hadn't learned. I don't know how Harry stood to have them tagging along all the time. Weren't they annoying?

Well, I wouldn't let them annoy my best friend anymore. Instead of them always being by Harry Potter's side, I would be by his side. They would have to realize who Harry's best friend really was.

I felt almost sorry for the two of them; being so deluded and all.

The Sorting took forever. All those stupid little kids walked so slow. I was never that little, was I?

I couldn't wait to get back to the Common Room and up to my dormitory. I wanted to see my bed and all my pictures of Harry. Besides, I was really tired. I wanted to just go to bed.

Maybe here at Hogwarts, I would sleep better. Maybe at school, I wouldn't have such awful dreams. Dreams with the Killing Curse in them.

I rushed through dinner, making sure I got everything that Harry did. I think he noticed that I always did that. I think he appreciated it.

I was finally able to go up to the Common Room and into my own room. It looked exactly as I had left it in June; I always wondered how they kept the rooms so clean and shiny during the summer. Didn't the House Elves get the summer off? I smirked. Maybe the Mudblood would try to put that into her stupid club rules.

I yanked back the curtains to my bed and there were all my pictures, just the same. A million Harrys waving at me; some performing amazing tricks on their Firebolts. Some of the other Harrys were resting on the Quidditch field, taking a well-deserved break. I think I saw a few of them sleeping.

Which sounded like a very good idea. I quickly got into my pajamas and crawled into bed. I could hear the first party of the year getting started downstairs; since those Weasley twins were both Head Boys, there'd probably be a lot of mischief this year. I almost wanted to go downstairs and talk to Harry some more, but I was too tired.

I hated to leave him with the Mudblood and Muggle-lover, but he would understand. Best friends always understand each other.

I yawned and wriggled under the covers a little more. In the dim moonlight filtering through my bed curtains, I could see all of my pictures of Harry, still flying away and grinning. I smiled back.

My greatest friend, Harry Potter.

The morning came, and as I awoke I saw the other fourth-year boys, still asleep from their exploits the night before. Stupid gits. They drank too much butterbeer, probably.

I quickly got dressed and ran downstairs. The Common Room was in a shambles; I felt sorry for the House Elves that had to clean up. But then I remembered the row the Mudblood was likely to make about that, and I grinned.

I went down to breakfast. The Gryffindor table was nearly deserted; I had certainly missed some party! Just a few bleary-eyed students were there. One of them was Harry!

Harry Potter was finally on his own! The Mudblood and Muggle-lover were nowhere to be seen! I could finally talk to him without having to pretend to like anyone.

I ran over to Harry and sat down next to him on the bench. I think he was about to fall asleep; he raised his head sleepily and looked at me.

"Oh. Hullo, Colin."

"Hi, Harry. How're you doing? Did you go to the party last night? I was going to go, but I was just so tired-

"Yeah, I was there."

I looked more closely at Harry. Something was wrong. His eyes were bloodshot, but they were also sad. They looked like his eyes at the Leaving Feast last year. What could be wrong with my best friend?

"All right, Harry?"

He glanced at me and pushed his eggs around on his plate. "Yeah, I'm all right. Last night I had a bit of a spat with Ron and, well..."

Why, that stupid, no-good Muggle-lover! He was the cause of my best friend's pain! Rage coursed through me. I couldn't really understand why Harry would be so affected by an argument with the Muggle-lover (he was so annoying!), but I couldn't stand to see Harry depressed! How dare that red-headed freak make my best friend uneasy? I'd kill him! I'd put the Imperius curse on him and make him jump into the lake with the giant squid!

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry he was mean to you, Harry."

"Yeah. Ron can be such a git. First he was just arguing with Hermione, but then he turned on me. He makes me so mad sometimes."

Me too. Maybe this would be a good time to tell Harry the truth about the Mudblood and Muggle-lover.

"Yeah. Harry, that Mugg...er, Ron doesn't seem to be a very good friend. He's always thinking of himself. He doesn't take you at your real value."

Harry looked at me, amazed. "You know, Colin, you're right! Ron is selfish!"

I continued, "And the Mud-er, Hermione isn't much better. She's always got her head in a book and she never helps you study." (Like I do, I thought.)

"Well, Hermione's always been like that. Her top grades are more important to her than I ever will be. She's a bit of a bookworm. Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Colin," Harry said, as he finished the last of his eggs and got up. I watched him as he walked away, happy that I had been able to clear away the fog from my best friend's mind. He wouldn't be hanging around the Mudblood and Muggle-lover from now on.

I'd have to start saving him a seat near me. I hoped Dennis wouldn't mind moving over a little.

I went to classes, very proud of myself for helping Harry Potter. I even won Gryffindor a few points for my work in Transfiguration (turning stereos-a Muggle music device-into songbirds). The whole day was wonderful. I was going to sit beside Harry Potter at supper; I had gotten points for Gryffindor; I was going to ask Harry to coach me in Quidditch; I had been partnered with the Weasley girl with the cute smile in Potions.

......For some reason, I had noticed that Ginny Weasley had very perfect teeth. She must drink a lot of milk, I guess. And she had red hair like her brothers, but on her it didn't seem so objectionably red. It was just pretty.

And she had a huge crush on my best friend......
Well, good. Harry Potter deserved a pretty girl like her.

I sprinted out of Herbology when the last bell rang. Everyone in Hogwarts was gravitating toward the Great Hall for supper. I could just see it now. I would save Harry a seat, and he would come to my side of the table and leave the Mudblood and Muggle-lover alone with their selfishness. He and I would laugh about Snape and Quidditch. Maybe Ginny Weasley would come and sit by us and I could introduce her to my best friend, Harry Potter. She'd like that. Maybe I'd get to see her smile again. And then we'd talk all during dinner and it would be Harry, Colin and Ginny instead of Harry, Ron and Hermione.

And Harry would laugh at my jokes like he laughed at the Muggle-lover's jokes. And he's slap me on the shoulder and we'd walk up to the Common Room together and play Exploding Snap.

Yes, everything would be wonderful.

I walked into the Great Hall with everyone else, and I scanned the Gryffindor table for Harry. I saw him; he was sitting at the very far end of the table.

With the Mudblood and Muggle-lover.

I didn't understand. Hadn't he given them up? Hadn't I told him that he was better than they were? Why was he still sitting with them? It must be a mistake.

I walked over to where they were sitting. Harry was laughing at a joke the Muggle-lover had just made. He was laughing at his jokes...like I thought he would laugh at mine. Then he saw me. I thought I saw a little flicker of guilt flash across his face. Did he feel guilty?

"Hello, Colin."

"Harry, I can save you a seat near me, if you want," I said quickly. Maybe he was just sitting there with them, because he thought he had nowhere else to sit.

"Oh. Thanks, Colin, but I'll stay here."

What? I didn't understand. Hadn't Harry told me that morning that he hated those two?

"Er, Harry? You remember what you said to me this morning?"

Another strange look flashed across his face. He was definitely feeling guilty. He said quickly, "Oh, it's all right, Colin. Everything's been taken care of." The Mudblood and Muggle-lover looked up from their conversation in interest. I still didn't understand. Why didn't Harry want to come and sit with me?

"But Harry, you told me this morning that you thought he (I pointed at the Muggle-lover) was selfish and she (I pointed at the Mudblood) was a bookworm!" I cried. A few Gryffindors turned to look at me. Harry's eyes widened and he jumped up and steered me away from the table.

"Ssh, Colin. I didn't mean it. And besides, we've all made up. Everything's okay now. Why don't you go and get some sup-

"What d'you mean, everything's okay? I thought you hated them! Why do you insist on hanging around with trash like that, Harry? They're not good enough for you; they're not good friends!"

"How can you say that, Colin? You don't even know them!"

"Oh, yes I do too know them!" I shrieked. Nearly everyone was looking at me now. I could feel their eyes boring into me, but I couldn't stop. The words fell out of my mouth and I was unable to stop them. Harry had to know what was going on; he had to know what they were. "They're just a Muggle-lover and a Mudblood, Harry! And you're the Boy Who Lived! YOU DEFEATED VOLDEMORT (a few people gasped as I shrieked his name)! YOU'RE A TRIWIZARD CHAMPION! YOU'RE MY BEST FRIEND AND I WON'T LET THEM FOOL YOU ANYMORE!"

Harry was silent for a minute. His eyebrows were furrowed, but he looked bewildered all the same. "Colin," he said quietly, "Colin, no one is fooling me. Ron and Hermione aren't trying to fool me-

"YES THEY ARE, HARRY! YOU JUST CAN'T SEE IT!" I was still shrieking, I don't know why. "I'M NOT GOING TO LET THEM HURT YOU ANYMORE, HARRY! I'M YOUR BEST FRIEND; I CAN TELL WHAT THEY'RE DOING TO YOU, EVEN IF YOU CAN'T!"

Harry was shocked. I could see it in his face. He was shocked, and he was angry. Why would he be angry? He couldn't be angry with his best friend, could he?

"COLIN, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Harry suddenly roared. The volume of his voice startled me. "HERMIONE AND RON ARE MY BEST FRIENDS, AND I'M NOT GOING TO LEAVE THEM! NOW GO AWAY!" And then he stomped over to the table and sat down between them, between the Mudblood and Muggle-lover.

I wheeled around. Everyone was still staring at me. Even Malfoy was looking, his mouth hanging open. Nobody moved. A million eyes were staring directly at me.

I ran.

I ran out of the Great Hall, away from all the students. I kept running; I didn't stop until I was in my own dormitory, and I collapsed on my bed. My mind was still whirling.

Why had Harry said that the Mudblood and Muggle-lover were his best friends? Wasn't I his best friend? Hadn't I gone to all his Quidditch practices and helped him with his Transfiguration homework? Didn't I laugh at his jokes? Didn't he think the Mudblood and Muggle-lover were just as annoying as I did?

...Or did he think I was the annoying one? Was he just being kind to me all those times that I sat beside him during meals? No, that couldn't be it. My mind raced, trying to think of one instance when Harry had gone out of his way to be kind to me. There was the first Quidditch practice of my first year...but Harry had seemed awfully rushed. Was he trying to get away from me? He had killed the basilisk for me, hadn't he? Or had he done that for the Muggle-lover's little sister, for Ginny?

Did Harry Potter think I was annoying?

I shook my head, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. He had told me to go away. Harry Potter, my best friend, had told me to go away. And then he had deserted me, for a Mudblood and a Muggle-lover.

He told me to go away. Well, I would. I would go away and I would never bother myself with him again! I'd never go to one of his Quidditch practices again, that's for sure! I wouldn't save him a seat when the Great Hall was full! I WOULDN'T LAUGH AT HIS JOKES OR HELP HIM WITH HIS HOMEWORK! HE HAD TOLD ME TO GO AWAY! HE HAD HUMILIATED ME! IN FRONT OF EVERYONE! HE WASN'T MY BEST FRIEND! BEST FRIENDS DIDN'T ACT LIKE THAT! HE DIDN'T DESERVE TO BE MY BEST FRIEND!

I paced around the room, trying to make sense of all that had happened. Harry Potter didn't deserve to be my best friend! He was just as bad as the Mudblood and Muggle-lover!

WELL, HE CAN JUST STAY WITH THEM FOREVER! STUPID SAINT POTTER, FRIEND OF THE POOR AND OPPRESSED! I WISH HE HAD NEVER COME TO HOGWARTS! I WISH HE HAD GOTTEN KILLED DURING THE FINAL CHALLENGE! I WISH LORD VOLDEMORT HAD KILLED HARRY POTTER!

Harry Potter wasn't anything special. He was just a stupid boy, a mediocre student without any special skills, who had been very lucky once and had survived an attack. He hadn't defeated Lord Voldemort. How could an idiot defeat Lord Voldemort? I wish Lord Voldemort had won. Then I wouldn't have to worry about Harry Potter anymore.

I stopped pacing. Harry Potter wasn't my best friend. He didn't deserve to be my best friend. I would find someone worthy of my friendship, though. I turned and looked at all of the pictures above my bed, all of the pictures of Harry Potter, with his stupid scar and throngs of fans. I don't know what Ginny saw in him. I crossed over to my bed and crawled on top of it to the pictures. I took one of them, the very first picture I had ever taken, at the very first Quidditch practice I had gone to, in my hands.

And then I tore it to confetti.

I felt better.

An hour later, a mound of shredded pictures lay on my bed. A mound of shredded Harrys. An arm here, a leg there. My wall was bare.

Good. It was a new beginning.

Harry Potter would be sorry.

Stupid Harry Potter. I hated him.

Harry Potter with his legions of fans. Harry Potter with the Firebolt. Harry Potter with the Quidditch Cup. Harry Potter with all the girls. Even Virginia Weasley.

He did not deserve any of these things. Especially her.

I hated him. I hated him for what he did to me. People stared at me in the hallways now, they looked and they couldn't tear themselves away. They gawked. They pointed. All because of stupid, popular Harry Potter. There was the boy who thought he was best friends with Harry Potter. What an idiot. He could never be best friends with the Boy Who Lived...

To hell with them. I could never be best friends with the Boy Who Lived? Ha! More like "didn't want to be best friends with the Boy Who Lived!"

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid Harry Potter. Stupid Colin Creevey, for even thinking that that half-blood slime was good enough to be friends with. Sure, he was in Gryffindor. But Neville Longbottom was in Gryffindor. Being in Gryffindor meant nothing.

And that stupid scar. Everyone always made such a bloody fuss about that scar. Well, I could run into my bedpost during the middle of the night and produce a scar to put even Harry Potter's to shame. Might even get a bruise. Did that mean I would get front-page coverage on the Daily Prophet? Stupid wizarding world. Ever since Potter got that stupid scar, the whole world had been obsessed. Pottermania, that's what it was. I wish Lord Voldemort hadn't been defeated, at least then I wouldn't have to deal with all this Potter-worship every day of my eternal life.

To think I had wanted to be his friend. I couldn't believe it.

Potter would pay. Dearly.

I wouldn't be made a fool of again.

None of the Gryffindors would talk to me. No loss there; most of them thought I was a little "strange" anyhow. Because I knew advanced spells and everything. Well, if being a genius was too odd for Gryffindors to handle, I shouldn't be friends with them anyway. I tried hanging out with a few Slytherins. Most of them welcomed me with open arms. Knew I hated Potter, I suppose.

Even the Slytherins didn't understand, though. Ancestor-worshipping pureblood inbreds, the lot of them. Didn't understand a thing. They didn't like Potter simply because their precious mummies and daddies didn't either. Idiots. Malfoy, especially. He had been very intent on being my friend after Potter blew up at me, but I could see through that mostly-empty little head of his. I could see beyond the flaxen "Malfoy" hair he had dyed at a Muggle salon every two months (I asked around). Stupid git.

They didn't understand. None of them understood that ever since Potter was born, everything had gone downhill. Ever since Potter had gotten lucky and defeated Voldemort, the wizarding world had suffered. At least when Voldemort was around, we had stability. So what if a few Muggles and Mudbloods were killed? They were the stupid ones, the ones who hadn't been smart enough to join with the Dark Lord in the first place!

Harry Potter shouldn't have won! Why did Harry Potter always have to win?

Well, he wouldn't win next time.

I truly enjoyed Potions class. Dumbledore had finally consented to let me move ahead a year, and so I had Double Potions with the fifth-year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Wonder why Dumbledore had been so nervous about letting me move up a year. If Wonder Boy hadn't been such a brainless git, Dumbledore would've let him move to the seventh-year class while he was a first-year. Stupid old fool. Another Potter-lover.

Professor Snape was unfailingly hateful to Potter. Thank goodness for professors like him. Professors that aren't blinded by hoopla. I always laughed at his comments. I was the only Gryffindor who did. I didn't care. I didn't care that the other Gryffindors hated me. I didn't care that they always tried to alter my potions. As if hebona could ever do anything to a simple Reducing Potion. Idiots.

I had mastered all of the seventh-year books. Surprisingly easy, really. I wanted to go ahead and take the NEWTs, but I knew Dumbledore would never allow it. Probably have a few comparisons to make. I knew Tom Riddle had taken the NEWTS when he was a fourth-year too. And Tom Riddle wasn't exactly tops on old Dumbledore's list of people to emulate.

Stupid old fool.

Tom Riddle was the best student Hogwarts ever had. He was the heir of Salazar Slytherin. He was brilliant.

I would be as brilliant as he was. I was on my way.

I had started reading the books in the Restricted Section. Madam Pince loved me; I guess all those hours I had spent helping her, back before I didn't know any better, actually paid off. She let me do whatever I want.

I learned a lot of new spells. There were spells for everything, spells they'd never teach us in Hogwarts. They were all so complicated. I loved them.

In Transfiguration, I was paired with Ginny Weasley. I think she was a little scared of me. After what I had said to Potter, I suppose she had a right to be. She was, after all, in love with him.

I was scared of her too. She seemed to be made of porcelain. I was afraid I would break her if I touched her. Even her hair looked like glass. Her hair was so shiny. It shone like...like...like pennies. Those Muggle coins. Her eyes were huge. They were doll's eyes. They were huge and brown and they had long lashes. And her eyes would grow wide every time I tried to make a joke. Like I couldn't make a joke.

She terrified me.

But she was smart. She knew what Tom Riddle looked like. I often had to stop myself from asking her what he looked like; if he was really as smart as people said he was. I never asked her. I think she wanted to forget about him.

I still wondered, though.

Virginia had seen the Dark Lord.

"Virg...er, Ginny?"

"Yes, Colin?"

"You're supposed to stress the third syllable of Mandragora. Otherwise, you'll end up with peanuts growing out of your nose."

She laughed. "Sure, Colin."

She laughed. I had made her laugh. I was possessed with an insane wish to make her laugh again and again and again. Well, maybe someday...I smiled.

Potter wouldn't win this time.

Professor Snape was having us make Polyjuice Potion. I think I had displeased the Professor; he paired me with Potter.

The man paired me with Harry Potter. I couldn't believe it. Neither could the class, apparently; I heard snickers and a few comments as we moved to the same bench.

"Well, lookee, the two best friends..."

"Looks like Creevey's going to get his wish after all..."

I could kill them. I wanted to. I could take my wand and say a few words and they'd all be dead. They'd all stop breathing and their hearts would stop beating and they'd fall to the ground and then for once in their entire lives, they would have nothing to say. They'd be silent.

I ignored them. I'd just have to pretend they were dead. For now.

Harry brought his cauldron over to the table and plunked it down. I wouldn't look at him. I wouldn't look I wouldn't talk I wouldn't say a word...

"Colin?"

I stopped muttering under my breath. Harry was regarding me much as he would regard a rather poisonous weed.

"Colin, we should get to work. Polyjuice Potion is no easy task."

"I know that."

I know that, you stupid, brainless moron. I know exactly how difficult Polyjuice Potion is to make; I've made it myself on many occasions. Wasn't I the one who turned Mrs. Norris into Neville Longbottom's toad for an evening? Wasn't I the one who had stayed up until three one morning trying to master the potion while reading by candlelight in the library after hours? "Polyjuice Potion is no easy task..."

Stupid. How on Earth did you survive Lord Voldemort?

I quickly tuned out of the class; I ignored Potter and potions and Snape glaring at me. I could feel myself losing control, and when I lost control, bad things happened. Instead of Potter and potions, I thought of shiny red hair and huge brown eyes.

Potions had never seemed so long. Snape couldn't find anything to say about Potter's and my potion (much to his dismay) and so he left us alone. Potter tried to talk, but I wouldn't deign a response. Why should I talk to him? He didn't want to talk to me.

He was just putting on a show. Saint Potter, always mindful of the little people.

Every now and then I would nod and say "Yes" or "Uh-huh" to Potter. Just to let him think I was listening. Because that's all he wanted, of course. Attention.

Soon class was over. I bolted from my seat, anxious to leave Potter behind me and get to the Great Hall for dinner. Potter wouldn't leave me alone, though. He kept trailing after me, trying to make conversation.

Was Potter feeling guilty?

Oh, this was too good.

He even saved me a seat next to him at dinner. Two months ago, I would have been ecstatic. Would have probably taken pictures of the seat. But not now. I took the seat, however. Nowhere else to sit.

This one token of friendship didn't keep me from ignoring him, though. I didn't hear a word Potter said. Talked mainly to Virginia throughout the meal. She was sitting across from Harry, as usual. He didn't talk to her much, though. She stared at him a lot. That was about it.

I made sure she talked to me. I even made her laugh a few times. I could see a look of confusion cross Potter's face once. Good. He wasn't going to talk to a nice girl like Virginia, he couldn't expect everyone else to ignore her as well.

Potter started talking to me again. From his words, I could tell I had missed something.

"...and so, Colin, it was all a big misunderstanding. I never really wanted to say all those things. I didn't want to hurt your feelings..."

Was Potter apologizing? Was Saint Potter deigning to lower himself to the rank of mortal?

"...and I hope we can be friends. I know you've wanted that for a long time," he finished, and sat back. There was an expectant smile around the edges of his mouth.

So. Potter wasn't apologizing. Potter would never do that. Potter was just making himself look like the hero. "Smooth things over with the disturbed Creevey boy. Maybe you'll get yourself another article in the Daily Prophet." Well, I wasn't about to...

"Sure, Harry."

What?!? What had I just said? That hadn't actually come out of my mouth, had it? It certainly didn't seem like it had! I blushed the color of the beets on my plate. I can't believe I just accepted Potter's friendship. After everything he's done to me...

"Wonderful! Well, Colin, I've got to go. I'll see you in Potions tomorrow. Study up on that Polyjuice! Can't do all the work by myself, now, can I?" he grinned cheerfully as he walked away. I wanted to take my wand and break his legs. I could. I knew I could.

What had made me say that? I could feel myself grow angrier by the minute. Not at Potter, but at myself. How could I have accepted his friendship? He was Potter! He had always treated me like a spec of dirt! Always brushed me aside, always ignored me whenever possible!

Angrier and angrier...I could feel the heat begin its familiar surge behind my eyes. Like I was about to shoot rays from them or something. Hotter and hotter and-

"What the hell?" cried Seamus, a few seats down. I turned, abruptly, to see what he was swearing about. Irish always have something to swear about, I thought inadvertently. Strange thing, though, there were droplets falling into his soup. Droplets of what?

Wait, there were drops falling on me, too. I heard Virginia cry out as a few of them splashed her, too. What the...?

And then I saw. The ceiling of the Great Hall. It was raining. A few drops, at first, but I could tell they were growing stronger and stronger. People began to run for the exits.

A huge clap of thunder reverberated off of the walls. A few screams joined it. The rain increased. It became almost like a sheet of water. Everyone, even the teachers, fled the Hall. I could see Dumbledore, soaked to the skin, peering up at the ceiling in wonderment.

What had happened? How had the ceiling---

OH. Oh no. I had studied Weather-Influencing Charms the night before in the library. Was this what happened when I lost control? Had I made the ceiling rain?

A great streak of lightning splintered one of the Ravenclaw tables. Even Dumbledore fled. I was alone in the Great Hall. I looked up at the ceiling, looked at what I had wrought.

And I laughed. My laughter bounced off of the walls, mingling with the thunder and the steady roar of the rain. I laughed until my sides hurt.

And I wondered if Tom Riddle had ever made it rain in the middle of Hogwarts.

Crouched behind a suit of armor, a short, fat, balding middle-aged man watched the proceedings in the Great Hall with wonderment. His eyes grew large with the first few drops of rain, and he nearly shrieked with glee at the first boom of the thunder.

"The sign," he whispered, inaudibly. "The sign, just as Master promised...."