Through the Camera
A.N: Whoa, a chaptered
fic! This was particularly difficult, so I want to
thank (as usual) Suburban House Elf for the support and tips! Colin is proving a
difficult subject, so please excuse the probable delay between chapters! Enjoy!
Chapter 1- A Strange Letter.
Colin Creevey pushed his breakfast
plate away from him and smiled at his mother.
‘Thanks, Mum,’ he said as Mrs. Creevey
took the plate and turned to dump into the soap-filled sink.
Colin’s brother, Dennis, immediately pushed his plate away too, echoing Colin’s
words. The siblings smiled at each other, Dennis’ face expressing something
akin to hero-worship.
‘Now that you’re going to high school, we’ll have to go
shopping this week and get all your things,’ Mrs. Creevey
said proudly, giving her eldest son a contented smile.
Her little boy was growing up. It seemed like only yesterday
they’d brought him home from the hospital. At least that experience had been
hassle-free, unlike Dennis’ birth. THAT had involved an incident with a window
somehow mysteriously losing a pane of glass when two year old Colin had been
Colin’s life up to this point had been extremely average.
The son of a milkman, Colin and his family lived a standard middle-class life.
He had attended the local school and would be moving onto high school in a few
weeks. At school he had a couple of friends, none of them particularly close,
since his slightly geeky appearance and over-enthusiastic manner caused the
other children to avoid him, and call him ‘weird’ behind his back (and
sometimes to his face).
It was true that he looked rather odd
with his protruding teeth, thin blonde hair that never sat any other way than a
precise comb-over despite Colin’s frustrated work on it, and large, milk-bottle
glasses. The glasses had been the bane of Colin’s existence since he was around
six years old and the other children had begun taunting him with cruel remarks.
One bully had even thrown a rock at them, intending to break them but the
lenses were so thick that they simply refused to shatter. Unfortunately this
only made the situation worse. The bullies began to call him ‘Blindie’, a
pointed alteration to the friendly ‘Blondie’ that his one friend at the time
had taken to calling him. To be quite honest, most of the time Colin didn’t
mind this teasing. His father once told him that it made him a stronger person
and Colin was quite proud of the thick skin he’d developed over the years.
His brother had been a good friend over the years. When his
other friends had disappeared without bothering to inform him of their
whereabouts, Dennis was always happy to sit with him at lunch until Colin could
go into the library. He normally borrowed out books on photography now; his
mother had given him an old CLR camera for his last birthday in the hope that
he would develop some sort of hobby.
Fortunately for her, Colin had loved the gift and taken to carrying it with him
anywhere. Soon he had an impressively large stack of photos, including some
truly spectacular shots. When Colin realised his passion for capturing not just
important moments and posed shots, but also random displays of human emotion,
he began to learn everything he could in order to get the most out of his
camera. His father was even helping him to set up a dark-room, so that he could
develop his own photos the way he thought they would turn out the best. This
project thrilled Barbara Creevy, who was so pleased that her eldest son had
finally displayed some sort of talent and enthusiasm for a hobby that she quite
happily consented to the under-stair cupboard being unceremoniously emptied of
its coats, shoes, broken appliances and the vacuum cleaner one rainy Sunday
afternoon, and her husband proceeding to spend a small fortune and many more
hours, ensconced in the tiny room.
Suddenly they were interrupted from this moment of happy
reminiscing by a sharp tapping noise.
‘What…?’ Barbara Creevey pondered
as they looked for a source of the noise.
‘There!’ Tiny Dennis pointed at the window, where a large,
regal-looking brown owl was watching them, an envelope in its beak.
Colin’s mouth dropped open in astonishment as Dennis bounced
up and down in his seat laughing delightedly. He was not yet at the age where
he would possess the maturity to consider such an occurrence strange, and,
unlike Colin, thought it was a marvellous trick. Colin, however, was glued to
his seat, utterly speechless. Not only was there an owl sitting on their windowsill-their
WINDOWSILL! - in broad daylight, something which Colin had never seen before,
but it also appeared to want to enter the kitchen. Not to mention the fact that
it clasped an envelope tightly in its beak, quite comfortably, as though it did
this sort of thing all the time!
Barbara opened the window, intending to shoo the creature
away, but before she had a chance it had flown past her, landing briefly in
front of Colin. It dropped the letter in front of him and ruffled its feathers
importantly before disappearing once more through the window, just as Barbara
got over her total astonishment and began to scream.
Dennis had sat, clapping his hands and bouncing in his
chair, throughout the entire episode but Colin now moved for the first time since
passing his plate up to his mother. He stretched out a hand to take the
envelope, noticing the red seal on the back, and the envelope’s unexpected
weight. A curious feeling rose in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t
describe, something he had never felt before. Truthfully, it felt as though,
for the first time in Colin Creevy’s extremely average life, something totally
unpredictable was going to happen. It felt like his whole life was about to
Little did he know that within five minutes, that was
exactly what would happen.
Staring at the envelope, Colin wondered, just for a split
second, what would happen if he didn’t open it. He turned it over and looked at
the front, checking that it was in fact addressed to him. What he read astonished
him. It had his name and his address, but in
between these two normalities, were the words ‘The Kitchen Table’.
Colin frowned in confusion and mouthed silently a word that
could have been, had he been speaking out loud, something akin to ‘what…?’
Barbara was watching her son curiously. There was something
about him with that letter in his hand that made her feel distinctly strange.
As though, in the space of less than a minute, he had grown up, become somebody
totally different so that she had no idea who this strange young man was, who
happened to be inhabiting the body of her eldest son. There was a strange
presence about him, almost…ethereal
in nature. Barbara snapped out of her reverie with a jolt, urging herself to
get a grip.
Colin was still staring at the envelope as though expecting
it to either bite him or disappear into a puff of smoke. In reality, he was
expecting to wake up any minute in his bed to discover that everything that had
happened that morning, even the mundane routine of breakfast, had been a dream.
Perhaps that would have been more believable.
‘Are you going to open it, Colin?’ Dennis asked curiously,
his childish anticipation evident on his face.
Colin blinked, as though rousing from a trance and turned
the envelope over again, examining the red seal. It had a crest on it with four animals, he couldn’t make out what. He
carefully pulled the seal away from the thick paper and lifted the flap on the
envelope, sliding out the several thick pieces of paper within. Colin began to
read the first page silently, but within less than a minute he had dropped the
pages, his whole body shaking.
‘What? What is it?’ Barbara asked anxiously, concern for her
son blocking out any intention to pick the paper off the table and read it for
Colin opened and shut his mouth several times, his whole
face a picture of total disbelief, amazement, and most significantly, utter
joy. Finally, he managed a hoarse whisper.