Harry stroked the soft feathers of the little brown school owl that dropped a letter off for him at breakfast.
“Thanks, buddy,” Harry cooed. He offered it a strip of bacon that the owl took with a gentle nip of Harry’s fingers before flying off.
“Who’s it from?” Ron asked curiously.
Harry shrugged. “No idea.”
Hermione scoffed, “Open it and see.”
Harry wished he hadn’t opened it almost immediately.
Dear Harry,
I wrote you but you still ain’t calling.
I left my dorm, floo network, and a portkey at the bottom.
I sent two letters back in autumn, you must not’ve got ‘em.
There probably was a problem with the owl post or somethin.
Sometimes I scribble addresses too sloppy when I jot ‘em.
But anyways, fuck it, what’s been up, mate? How’s your classes?
I go to school too, I wish I was a Gryffindor.
If I were a lion then I’d be just like you, and your friend Ronnie.
I read about your godfather too, I’m sorry.
I had a friend die in the war, you probably didn’t know them.
I know you probably hear this every day, but I’m your biggest fan.
I even saw the underground shit you did with the others.
I got a dorm full of your posters and your pictures, mate.
I like the shit you do with broomsticks too, that shit is phat.
Anyways, I hope you get this mate, hit me back, just to chat,
Truly yours, your biggest fan,
This is Colin.
Harry must have lost as much color as he felt like he did, because Hermione leaned forward quickly and took the parchment from his unresisting hand so her and Ron could read it.
“What the fuck?” Ron whispered.
It was a mark of how odd the letter was that Hermione didn’t even scold him for his language.
“Did you get more letters before now?” Hermione asked Harry. “This is really odd, Harry, I think- I think you’re being stalked.”
Harry grimaced and shook his head. “I never got any other letters. What… what should I do with this one?”
“Trash it,” Ron suggested. He stretched his neck up, searching the hall. “Isn’t there a Colin in Hufflepuff in Ginny’s year?”
“No idea,” Harry muttered. “I hate this.”
Ron and Hermione both gave him sympathetic looks, it was creepy getting letters from an overtly enthusiastic ‘fan’.
*****
“Don’t open it,” Ron said curtly, as disturbed as Harry was by the familiar writing on the envelope a school owl delivered a week later. “Turn it in.”
“Yes,” Hermione agreed with a vehement nod of her head. “Give it to Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore. That student needs help, Harry.”
Harry sighed and slowly opened the envelope. “I feel bad just passing the letters off,” he hedged. “It’s… it feels like my responsibility.”
Hermione and Ron sighed, but they bent their heads together so they could all read the letter together.
Dear Harry,
You still ain’t called or wrote, I hope you have a chance.
I ain’t mad, I just think it’s fucked up you don’t answer fans.
If you didn’t want to talk to me outside your classes, you didn’t have to.
But you coulda signed an autograph for Dennis, that’s my little brother, mate, he’s only ten years old.
I waited on the moving staircase for you for four hours and you just said no.
That’s pretty shitty mate, you’re like his bloody idol.
He wants to be just like you, mate, he likes you more than I do.
I ain’t that mad though, I just don’t like being lied to. Remember when we met in DA?
You said if I’d write you, you would write back.
See I’m just like you in a way, I never knew my father neither, he used to always curse at my mom and beat her.
I can relate to what they’re sayin’ in your stories, so when I have a shitty day I drift away and read again.
Cause I don’t really got shit else, so that shit helps when I’m depressed.
I even got a tattoo of your name across my chest.
Sometimes I even curse myself to see if I can bleed,
It’s like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me.
See everything you do is brave and I respect you cause you do it.
My boyfriend’s jealous cause I talk about you 24/7.
But he don’t know you like I know you, Harry, no one does.
He don’t know what it was like for people like us growin up.
You gotta write me, mate, I’ll be the biggest fan you’ll ever lose,
Sincerely yours, Colin
PS: We should be together too.
“He tattooed my name on his chest?!” Harry hissed, disturbed and his appetite for breakfast long gone.
Hermione looked truly shaken. “He’s cursing himself too,” she whispered. “Oh, this is bad, guys…”
Harry reread it with a frown, “What’s this bit mean? Comparing his dad to mine? My dad never hurt my mum.”
“He probably read it in one of your ‘stories’,” Ron said, pointing at another line. “This bloke is barmy, mate.”
“Do you not remember which student it was?” Hermione asked Harry.
Harry shook his head. “I get approached by kids wanting me to sign stuff all the time,” he said defensively, embarrassed and flushing. “Hermione, this… this is too much,” he admitted. “What do I do?”
“Let’s give it to Professor McGonagall,” Hermione said kindly. “Just because you’re a bit famous—”
Ron snorted at the understatement.
“—doesn’t mean you should deal with mad things like this,” she finished in a whisper. “Come on, let’s give it to Professor McGonagall.”
Harry was relieved to hand the letter over to McGonagall with her promise to talk with Professor Sprout and get Colin to stop writing to Harry.
Hermione was right, just because some kid thought he knew Harry didn’t mean that Harry had to be responsible for him.
*****
“What the bloody hell is that?” Ron asked.
Hermione swatted his arm, but she too was curious when a white envelope flew through the open common room window and stopped in front of Harry.
Harry went to grab it, his stomach coiling up as it did every time he received mail ever since Colin’s first letter all those weeks ago, but he didn’t need to touch it to hear the contents, apparently.
The white letter unfolded itself and Colin Creevey’s voice filled the empty common room for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to hear.
“Dear Mister I’m-Too-Good-to-Call-or-Write-My-Fans,
This'll be the last parchment I ever send your arse.
It's been six months, and still no word—I don't deserve it.
I know you got my last two letters, I wrote the addresses on ‘em perfect.
So this is my ‘howler’ I’m sendin’ you, now you have to hear it.
I’m a broom right now, I’m doin’ 90 through the skies.
Hey, Harry, I drank a fifth of firewhisky, dare me to fly?
You know that story about when you were fighting Voldemort to survive?
When you tried to save your and Cedric Diggory’s lives?
But you couldn’t?
And the whole school found out your not such a tough guy?
That’s kinda how this is, you coulda rescued me from dying.
Now it’s too late, I’m on a hundred potions now- I’m drowsy.
And all I wanted was a lousy letter or a firecall,
I hope you know I ripped all of your pictures off my wall.
I loved you, Harry, we coulda been together— think about it!
You ruined it now, I hope you can’t sleep and you dream about it.
And when you dream I hope you can’t sleep and you scream about it.
I hope your conscious eats at you and you can’t think without me!
See Harry— Shut up, Ernie, I’m trying to talk!
Hey, Harry, that’s my boyfriend screaming from a trunk.
I didn’t AK him though, I just stunned him- see? I’m just like you.
Now, if he suffocates, he’ll suffer more then he’ll die too.
Well, gotta go, I’m almost to the lake now.
Oh, shit, I forgot, how’m I supposed send this charm out?”
Hermione screamed as the parchment let out the unmistakable sound of something- someone, heavy hitting water.
“We need McGonagall, quick,” Harry yelped, scrambling to his feet.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron beat on their professor’s door, rousing her from sleep, and quickly filling her in on the horror howler that Harry received.
McGonagall grew pale and she sent a patronus to Professor Dumbledore and Sprout, ordering them to meet her on the grounds.
Harry and his friends waited in her office, each of them silent and holding each other’s hands, and likely replaying Colin’s terrible words in their own heads.
Harry prayed that there weren’t going to be two more deaths on his conscious, two more deaths he could have prevented, but McGonagall returned and Harry knew that due to his actions, two more lives had been lost.
*****
Harry was shaky as he sat out by the lake, a piece of parchment on his knee and a quill in his trembling hand.
The whole school attended the double funeral for Colin Creevey and Ernie Macmillan that morning; Harry thought he might never sleep again. Every time he tried closing his eyes, Dennis Creevey’s small and wan face swam behind his eyelids.
Harry took a deep breathe and put his quill to the parchment—
Dear Colin,
I meant to write you sooner, but I’ve just been busy.
You said you’re in Hogwarts classes too, how were they?
Look, I’m really flattered you’d fight with the sorting hat, and here’s an autograph for your brother, I wrote it on a Canon’s cap.
I’m sorry I didn’t see you on the staircase, I must have missed you.
I wish you didn’t think I did that intentionally just to hurt you.
And what’s all this stuff about cursing yourself in your dorm room?
That sounds like death eater stuff, mate, how messed up were you?
You had some issues, Colin, you needed a healer.
They would have helped you see the truth of what me and you were.
And what’s this shit about us being meant to be together?
That’s the type of shit that made me not want us to meet each other.
I really think you and Ernie needed each other, but you really should have treated him better.
I wish you got to read this letter, I wished I would have sent it in time.
Before you hurt yourself, I thought you would be just fine,
If you had relaxed a little.
I’m glad I inspired you, but Colin, why were you so mad?
Try to understand, I never wanted any fans.
And I didn’t want you to do any crazy shit,
Now it’s all over the papers and it makes me sick.
Everyone’s talking about how you were drunk and flew in the lake,
And you had Ernie in your trunk, and he was just a real good friend.
And in the trunk they found your stuff, but all around it’s just been rough.
Come to think about it, this is too.
Damn.
Harry folded the letter up in to an airplane then levitated it to the center of the lake and let it sink.