This is a relatively short one shot I made about Colin and McGonagall. There are some OOC moments in this, but I hope I got them IC for the most part.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Colin Creevey was one of my favorite students.

"Mr. Creevey, I have heard dozens of complaints about that camera of yours," Professor McGonagall sighed as she stared at the first year above the rim of her spectacles.

Colin shrugged with a slight blush, but Minerva could tell he was embarrassed because he'd been called out, not ashamed of his photography.

Minerva continued to gaze at the boy, who shuffled uncomfortably at her intense glare.

As a teacher, Minerva McGonagall was meant to teach her students all she knew, but she was also meant to find their areas of expertise and help them chase those talents. She was meant to help her students find a path they would be happy on and benefit from.

Young Colin Creevey had a talent for photography; everyone knew that, although many people found his bold nature and his camera bothersome. Minerva wouldn't want a camera flash going off in her face either, but...

Colin Creevey had a talent. He needed to use it. Who was she to tell him to stop using his talents?

"Mr. Creevey, I'd like to make a deal," she proposed.

Colin's eyes sparkled with interest. "Really? What's the deal?"

"You stop taking pictures of people without their consent, and in exchange, I will talk to Professor Vincent, the art teacher. You're very good at photography, Mr. Creevey, and so is he. I'm sure he'll be able to teach you something if you're going to purse your photography. He can also teach you how to make pictures move with potions and magic."

Colin's eyes widened. "Move? It's a deal!" He exclaimed, and the two shook hands.

From that day on, Minerva McGonagall did not receive one more complaint about Colin's camera, although she did get many thanks from Professor Vincent for sending such a talented student his way.

Colin Creevey was talented, young, and had much potential. The very type of person Death takes far too early.

"Mr. Creevey," Professor McGonagall said with a small smile (so small, it could easily be mistaken for nothing more than a twitch). "How are the lessons with Professor Vincent going?"

Colin grinned. "Great. I learned how to make photographs move with magic and potions, just like you said. Look at some of my best works."

Colin pulled three photographs from his backpack and handed them to her.

It was not easy to impress Minerva McGonagall, especially after so many years of teaching, but young Colin Creevey managed to do so that day.

The photographs were certainly magnificent.

The first one was of Luna Lovegood. She was twirling and dancing, her blonde hair flying around her in a picturesque manner, almost as though this photograph were a painting. The photo was taken at exactly the right moment, and if Minerva didn't know any better, she'd say it was an illustration done by a very talented artist. The waves of Luna's hair, the position of her body as she danced, even the pale blue of her eyes, all seemed intentional by the photographer for the sake of the piece of art. This photo was a Muggle one and remained still.

The second was a moving photograph, and it was of Ginny Weasley. She was sitting in a tree with her red hair tied back in a braid. She swung her legs and laughed, smiling down at the camera. Each freckle on her face seemed to shine in the sunlight that filtered through the leaves.

The third was also a moving photograph, and it was of Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. Seamus had an arm around Dean, and they were laughing. Occassionally, Seamus would kiss Dean on the cheek (it seemed to be in a joking manner, but somehow, Minerva knew otherwise. Maybe it was because she'd been waiting for them to become a couple since they became friends), causing Dean to blush. This only caused Seamus to laugh harder.

If Minerva had to sum up Colin's photographs in a single sentence, she'd say... he sure knew how to communicate the moment through photography.

"What do you think?" Colin asked. "By the way, I had them sign the photographs on the back to make sure you knew they had my consent."

"These are wonderful," Minerva complimented.

To this day, Minerva has never seen someone look so happy as Colin did in that moment.

He was a good friend, a fantastic brother, a wonderful student. He was so many things, I'd be here all day just describing half of the things that Colin Creevey was.

Minerva raised an eyebrow as she noticed Colin slip into the Yule Ball, undetected, with his camera in hand. Colin noticed her watching, and he froze, smiling sheepishly at her.

Minerva smiled and winked before turning away from Colin and back to Albus.

The next day, several photos of the Yule Ball appeared on her desk.

I guess if I had to choose a particular way to describe Colin, I'd describe him as... full of life. Unique. There is no other way to remember Colin if we do not remember him as special.

A scream woke the castle, and Minerva stumbled out of her chambers to see that toad, Dolores Umbridge, dancing around. Minerva had to swallow a hysterical laugh when she saw the other woman's state.

Cats clung to her pink nightgown, scratching and clawing at any skin they could reach. Dolores's hair was dyed green and toad had been written across her forehead.

"When I find out who did this, you will never forget the punishment!" Dolores shouted.

Minerva found a picture of Dolores in her quarters with cats climbing off of plates and out of photos, coming to life, and leaping at Dolores. It was stuck between two pages in her book, hidden from anyone unless you were to open the book and find it. The perfect hiding spot.

Minerva had never been more proud of Colin Creevey.

Even when people tried to put out the flame that Colin was, Colin fought to keep that spark, that fire, within him alive.

Umbridge called Colin to her office the next day, and when he left, he was not the same as before. The twinkle in his eyes was dimmer, and his smile had seemingly vanished.

"Colin," Minerva whispered. "What happened?"

Minerva had called Colin to her office after noticing that something was off with her favorite student. She currently sat across from Colin at her desk, and Colin was avoiding her gaze at all costs. Colin was rubbing the back of his hand, and when he moved his fingers a fraction of an inch, she saw something. Before she could get a good look, Colin moved his fingers back over it.

Minerva reached across the desk and grabbed Colin's hand. He didn't fight her.

In cuts across Colin's skin, a single sentence was spelled out.

I will be normal

"What..." Minerva trailed off.

"She said I was too unique, too special," Colin murmured. "I was too energetic, too talkative. I disrespected her, talked out of turn. She told me... I was too eccentric for her liking. She told me to be normal, and she left that as a reminder."

Colin was closer to crying than she had ever seen him, and Minerva rounded the desk to stand beside Colin. Colin flinched, as though expecting to be struck.

You can imagine his shock when Minerva hugged him.

Colin melted into the hug, crying out so much pain and agony and hurt.

"You never have to change who you are," Minerva whispered.

It kind of scares me how much I cared for that boy. In all my years, i have never cared for a student to that amount. I'm not embarrassed to say that Colin was like the son I never had.

Colin seemed more withdrawn in sixth year, more worried. He kept his brother closer than ever.

Sometimes, Colin would come into her office and sit in the chair across from her. They'd sit there in silence.

Minerva didn't need Colin to speak to understand. She didn't need to speak to be there for him.

He was a hero. I will always remember him as such, as should all of you.

"Go," Minerva ordered, staring down at Colin, even as chaos ensued around them.

Colin shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Professor."

"There's a war going on, Creevey! Why won't you leave?"

Colin smiled, sadly. "Things aren't done here yet, and you know much I hate to leave things undone."

And then, he was gone, disappearing into the crowd, and Minerva didn't even get the chance to tell him she cared.

She didn't need to. Colin already knew.

When I saw his body, I burst into tears, and now, a few weeks afterward, I still have nightmares about his empty eyes.

Minerva watched as Oliver Wood and Neville Longbottom carried the lifeless body of Colin Creevey into the Great Hall.

Minerva stood beside the body and she took one look at Colin's empty, dead eyes, missing the life and the twinkle and the fire that she was so accustomed to. That was all it took for her to break down.

Minerva broke down, sobbing, and she reached out and closed Colin's eyes with her shaking fingers.

"Every snowflake is unique, yes, but Colin Creevey was a flame in a world full of snowflakes. He was nothing if not special."

The crying group applauded, and Minerva stepped down. She paused beside Colin's casket and placed a single orange rose-the color of a flame- upon it.

"Goodbye, Colin," she murmured. "Until we meet again."

To the day, she swears that she heard a single phrase whispered in her ear before it was lost in the wind.

"Thank you."

For those of you that are confused, the italicized sections are Minerva's speech at Colin's funeral.

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