---

There's no other love like the love for a brother.
There's no other love like the love from a brother.
~Astrid Alauda

* * *


He had thought the day would pass by like any other, fading neatly into the repetitious dance of the sun and moon, still masked by the monotony of what his life had become. But there it was, marked with a small, tentative star on his calendar, in writing that seemed so unlike his own: September 1st. Dennis could remember when he and Colin would count down until the start of Hogwarts, marking each passing day with a large ‘X’ and shouting excitedly as they reached the important milestones.

“It’s the halfway point, Dennis!� Colin would say one morning as he poured himself a bowl of cereal. Or, �One more week! Just one more week!� Then their mum would pretend to be miffed that they were so excited to leave her, and he and Colin would reassure her and promise to write her every day. But inside, Dennis knew from the way the corners of her mouth could never stay down that she was just as thrilled as they were; thrilled that the impossible was true, that there was real magic in this world.

Dennis remembered when he used to look forward to the first of September. He remembered when the date used to mean something; a symbol of how lucky he was to be a wizard.

But today, he felt nothing. He did not even feel like Dennis Creevey anymore; it was as though his heart and mind had been snatched away, and he was nothing more than an empty shell of the person he had once been. He didn’t feel the usual sharp pang of longing to return to Hogwarts. Just the thought of the school made his insides twist and the backs of his eyes sting. It hurt that he was not welcome, it ached terribly to think that memories of his wizardry years would soon be just that: memories, and painful ones at that. To Dennis, it seemed as though there was hate everywhere now, surrounding and suffocating him. Sometimes he wondered if he really wanted to be a part of this world anymore when it hurt so much. There would come a point, he knew, when the pain and guilt and hate just weren’t worth it anymore.

Huddled next to about twelve other Muggleborn refugees as they circled around a radio full of static, Dennis sat reflecting on how much everything had changed in such a short span of time. He could pinpoint it back to the exact day: one swelteringly hot morning in the first few days of August.

“Dennis,� Colin had whispered urgently, shaking his brother awake. “We’re leaving.�

Dennis had wiped his eyes groggily; they had been at their aunt Ida’s house in Dublin, and he took Colin’s words to mean that they were beginning the long drive home.

And then, in just one sentence, Colin painted an entirely new picture of their departure:

“The Ministry has fallen.�

Fallen. It had taken Dennis a few moments to realise what that meant. He had known things would be different without the protective wing of Albus Dumbledore, and he voiced his concerns to his brother of what might lie ahead at Hogwarts.

“Dennis,� Colin spoke haltingly, his voice growing harsh, “We’re not going back.�

Dennis’s thoughts were interrupted by a collective gasp from the group. “I think we’re getting signal,� one of the boys whispered, adjusting the radio antennae with gentle, caressing fingers. His name was Robbie, Dennis knew, and he had an exceptional gift for working Muggle technology.

Robbie caught Dennis staring and flushed. “Sorry it’s taking so long. This would be so much easier with magic,� he added irritably. Dennis gave him a half-smile, feeling Robbie’s mild frustration almost as though it was his own.

Silence settled around them once again. The boys sat with their tiny ears cocked towards the speakers as they listened with bated breath.

The radio suddenly began to hum and buzz, spitting out a few words at a time. “… Ministry is… students…. mandatory attendance…Hogwarts…�

A dark-haired wizard next to Dennis gasped. “They said ‘Hogwarts’!�

“Shush, Will!� someone snapped. Several of the boys eyed Will angrily, as though his excited speech had robbed them of hearing useful information. Will’s eyes widened as though he had been slapped; hugging his knees towards him, he pressed his lips together as though emphasizing his silence.

“It’s the Public Ministry Report, anyway,� Dennis whispered, feeling defensive of the little boy. “Everything they say is a load of Flobberworm piss.� Will furrowed his eyebrows, quickly forgetting his shame.

“Can a Flobberworm even piss?� he asked curiously.

Dennis shrugged. “Probably.� Turning towards the two boys whose ears were still pressed firmly to the radio speakers, he added, “Any news about my brother?� They shook their heads sadly.

“Sorry, Dennis. It’s just Hogwarts stuff. Apparently, Professor Snape is going to be Headmaster.� Though Dennis had expected this, he could not help but feel a sharp pang of disappointment.

“There would only be something about him if… if the news was bad,� Johnny, the taller of the two boys, said confidently. “So maybe it’s for the best that there’s no mention of him.�

“Yeah,� Dennis agreed, nodding and trying to sound as though he had been comforted. They were all right, these boys, but sympathy wasn’t one of their finer points, not when each of them had their own worries to deal with. They didn’t understand, he knew, why he was so worried about Colin and not his parents. Many of the boys here didn’t have siblings, and the ones that did had entered the secret life in the London Underground together. None of them knew what it was like to have a brother out there, a brother who was fighting in a world of wizards who scorned him.

He had not heard from Colin since his brother dropped him off with this group of Muggleborns hiding in the London Underground, and left to go fight. Dennis hadn’t realized that they were separating until he saw the faces of the twelve Muggleborn boys, eyeing him with suspicion and Colin with detached disinterest.

He remembered the angry, accusing words he had flung at his brother when he realised what was happening: “You aren’t staying.�

“Harry can’t do it all by himself,� Colin had remarked seriously, before hugging his brother tightly one last time. It had enunciated their differences more strikingly than ever: Colin’s need to play his part in the battle had overcome his desire to stay with his brother in a way that never would have happened to Dennis.

Dennis had wondered then, as he did every day, if he would ever see his brother again. He was starving for proof that Colin was out there, alive and fighting. And most of all, he was tired of waiting, waiting for the news that Harry had fallen, that Colin was dead, or that the war had finally ended…

Sometimes it felt as though he was isolated here, in the little microcosm of boys in the Underground struggling to stay hidden and survive. He wondered if they would realize it when the war was finished, or if they would stay here for weeks, even years afterward, apart from the real world.

“Dennis?� Will said softly. “It’s September the first.�

“Yes, it is.�

The boy was quite for a few moments. “Nothing is the same anymore,� he said finally. His voice was solemn, filled with the sort of wisdom that an eleven-year-old boy should not have.

“It will be all right,� Dennis said. He wished he could be more certain, more reassuring to the little boy, but he couldn’t muster up his confidence for anyone else when he had so little to give to himself.

* * *

“Dennis?� Will’s soft whisper melted into the air.

Dennis rolled over and wrapped his plaid, scratchy blanket more tightly around his body. “Yeah?�

“What if they find us when we’re sleeping?�

He hesitated. I don’t know, he wanted to say. That same thought had cost him more than one sleepless night. “They won’t,� he answered. “We’re protected.�

“But what if? I don’t know any magic, Dennis.� It was apparent from his voice that this had been bothering Will for a while.

“Well, I do,� Dennis replied. He exhaled slowly, turning his head so that it lay against the cool concrete facing Will. “Me and Robbie and Johnny. And so does Lyle — it was his older brother that put the protective spells around this area before he left. They’ll hold, and if they don’t…� He swallowed. It occurred to him that he was becoming more and more like an older brother to Will, and he’d never been good at being the older one. “If they don’t, I’ll protect you. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. I promise.�

This seemed to satisfy Will; he snuggled against his blankets, and scooted closer to Dennis. “What’s your brother like?�

“Colin?� Dennis asked, taken aback by the question. “He’s taller than me… he’d be a sixth-year if we were going to Hogwarts. We’re both Gryffindors, though Colin’s the real brave one. He got Petrified in his second year by a basilisk.�

Will gasped loudly, earning himself a rude “Shh!� from the freckled boy who lay below his feet. “Why did the basilisk petrify him?�

“Because he’s a Muggleborn,� Dennis answered bitterly, the embers of anger rekindling. It seemed to be the excuse to everything now.

Will seemed to sense the growing tension, and deftly switched topics. “Where are your parents?�

“Ireland, with my aunt. Colin left them a note ordering them to stay before we left… he said if we tried to talk with them they would just end up following us.� He closed his eyes, letting the images of his dad’s round, smiling face and his mum’s loving gaze swirl in his mind for a moment. “They’re safe.�

“I don’t know where my parents are,� Will said softly. “They didn’t… they don’t understand.�

“No one does,� Dennis told him, sighing. “No one understands why this is happening, or what it’s like to hide in the darkness all the time. What it’s like to close your eyes and pretend like the food you’re eating won’t make you nauseous later. Or how every time the radio actually works, the sound feels like liquid gold in your ears.� He let his tears fall, darkening the pale grey concrete of the ground he slept on. “Or what it’s like to wait, just wait all the time until the war ends without ever doing a bloody thing! No one understands that.� Not even Colin, he added to himself.

“Except us,� Will reminded him.

“Except us,� Dennis agreed. Perhaps this was their part in the war.

He turned to lie on his back and closed his eyes. Behind his heavy lids he could see Colin’s face, etched in determined resignation as he waved goodbye to Dennis one last time before turning away.

---

A brother shares childhood memories and grown-up dreams.
~Anonymous

* * *


“They’ve seen us! Run!� The voice was high and panicked; Colin did not know which of his companions it came from, and he didn’t take the time to figure it out. He just ran.

He’d done a lot of this lately, running until his throat grew so dry that his breath could not escape his stinging lungs and his leg muscles were so taut they refused to move. He was good at running; he’d always been small and lithe for his age, making it easy for him to dodge the flurry of spells as he darted away.

He could feel the burning heat of the curses as they shot past his cheek, missing him by inches; it was absolutely thrilling. It scared the shit out of him, of course, but it remained just as exciting as the first day he had been chased after. The danger, the fear, and the will to survive soaked through the air around him as he raced forward. Without Apparation, the chase could last for miles, but usually the slow-witted Snatchers soon lost interest or vowed to catch them some other time. Sometimes, if they were feeling particularly devious, the Snatchers would Apparate about a mile or so ahead of where they were running, but Colin and the others had caught onto this early and would switch directions if they lost sight of the Snatchers.

“Colin! Colin!�

He heard Justin’s voice calling him, and he slowed his pace as much as he could. His legs carried their momentum a few more strides before braking to a stop.

“Are they gone?� he asked, now walking alongside Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Justin nodded, breathing hard. “They gave up the chase a while ago, which makes me think they have something bigger up their sleeves.�

Colin swore under his breath. “Henry’s far up the road.�

“Too far?� Justin eyed him meaningfully.

Colin hesitated, his mind buzzing as he tried to calculate how long it would take to reach their friend. “Yes,� he admitted, his eyes boring into Justin’s. But it’s Henry, he wanted to add. Though he’d only known the boy for the eight months since he’d left Dennis behind, he couldn’t imagine abandoning him.

Justin sighed almost imperceptibly. “We’ll try and catch up to him. Quietly, though. I have a feeling there’s trouble ahead.�

They quickened their pace, careful to avoid stepping on the crunching gravel that bordered the concrete path. Colin knew Henry, a daringly confident boy who would have been a fifth-year, could easily evade the Snatchers — but he also knew that evasion was not Henry’s style.

Suddenly, there was a loud, shrill whistle from up ahead. “It’s Henry,� Colin whispered. “He’s warning us.� He brought his pace up to a sprint, ignoring Justin’s cries of protest behind him. He could see Henry’s longer, dark hair up ahead as the Snatchers approached him…

“Stupefy!� he yelled, sending a red jet of light towards a larger Snatcher who had the sulphur-like smell of rotting eggs. Henry threw him a grateful glance before Petrifying the Snatcher closest to him.

“I meant to tip you off with the whistle, not call you over here, Creevey!� Henry called, neatly blocking a jinx.

“What would you have done?� Colin asked sardonically; he could sense Henry’s grin now, even if he could not see it.

Henry laughed. “You know me, Creevey. I’d have saved my own — “ His words cut short in an awful strangled noise that made the back of Colin’s neck prickle.

“Henry?� Colin called, unable to keep the anxiety out of his voice. He hexed the Snatcher who had been fighting Henry from behind, and turned around.

Henry’s face was an odd, pasty colour as he leaned against the trunk of a tree. With his free hand he gripped his left side as a dark, thick red liquid dripped from his fingers.

“Interesting,� he said calmly, as though assessing the weather.

Colin paled. “Justin!� he called. “Justin, get over here!� Absently, he wondered why Justin hadn’t joined the fray, but the thought slipped his mind as Henry slumped to the floor.

“What happened?� Justin’s words came in ragged breaths as he rounded the corner towards them. With wide eyes, he took in the scene before him.

“They hit him with something,� Colin said quietly, wishing he could say more than just the obvious. “We need to get out of here, Justin,� he added with a quick glance towards the unconscious Snatchers. They wouldn’t stay that way for long, he knew, and fighting with an injured Henry was near impossible.

“We need to put pressure on it,� Justin told him, removing his black pea coat and placing it over Henry’s wound. “Keep that in place, tightly,� he ordered Henry, albeit gently.

“Apparate us out of here,� Colin demanded once Justin had turned to face him.

“Colin, I can’t. I would if I could, believe me…�

“You can try, can’t you?� Colin spat. He knew deep down he was being unfair, that Justin had never been able to Apparate properly or confidently, but all of a sudden everything — the danger, the fear, the severity — had become suffocatingly real . For the past few months, they had meandered their way around the countryside, warning Muggleborns whose pictures had been plastered to the front page of The Daily Prophet that they were in danger. The most daring thing they had done so far was to rescue groups of Muggleborns from the Snatchers, but even then they had not come this close… They had always known to quit before it went too far.

Until now.

“I’m sorry.� Justin sounded truly distressed. “But I don’t want to risk the chance of Splinching him or you.� His eyes surveyed their surroundings. “We can move him on foot. I’ll carry him.�

Colin nodded numbly as Justin propped Henry up on one of his shoulders. Raising his chin towards Colin, he added, “Lead the way.�

* * *

It had been three hours, and Henry’s complexion still hadn’t returned to its usual colour. Justin’s coat was now completely drenched, though Colin knew that didn’t matter to him now.

Henry’s eyes were closed. Every so often, Justin would lean down and place his first two fingers in the crook of Henry’s neck, feeling for the steady pulse of life beating faintly, but surely, under his skin. It made Colin sick every time he did this, and he would turn away pointedly. There was death and dying all around them, every day, and he knew he should be thankful it hadn’t touched them yet. But sitting there beside Justin, not knowing whether Henry would be laughing with them tomorrow, made it difficult for Colin to muster up any gratitude.

“Why didn’t you come?� he asked suddenly, in a voice that sounded too hoarse to be his own.

“I did come,� Justin argued gently. “I came after Henry—�

“You know that’s not what I meant.�

Justin was silent for a few moments. “I did follow you,� he answered. “But… Colin, I’m not a fighter. I never have been. And frankly, I think I would have been more of a hindrance than a help to you back there.�

“We’ve been fighting this entire time,� Colin said, though his voice had lost some of its initial biting anger. “We’re playing our part.�

“We haven’t been fighting, Colin. Not really.�

The words hit him like a sharp slap. “Then what have we been doing?� And if we haven’t been fighting, he wanted to add, then the past eight months mean nothing.

Justin bent down to check Henry’s pulse before continuing. “We’ve been mucking things up a bit, but none of it’s made any difference.�

“How can you say that?� Colin’s voice rose as he felt his face flush in indigence. “We’ve saved Muggleborns.�

“And given them what? We don’t even know if they’re still alive. They could have been picked up by the next batch of Snatchers or unable to take care of themselves in the forests. For all we know, Colin, they could be no better off than they were before.�

“But…� He was drowning in his own argument, unable to keep his mind from recognising the truth in Justin’s words. I could’ve stayed with Dennis, he thought bitterly. It would’ve been the same thing. And now that he let himself think about it, he realised that there was no way the three of them could have survived for so long if they had truly been engaged in the war.

“You’re a fighter, Colin,� Justin told him matter-of-factly as he leaned against the large rock behind him. “You want to make a difference. You are going to make a difference, some way or another.� His words hung in the air like an echo; Colin shivered, wrapping his arms around him. The evening wind was nearly as chilling as Justin’s words, seeming to bite through the thin layer of Colin’s shirt. He glanced at Henry, realising with a sharp pang that Henry looked a thousand times colder than Colin felt.

Justin seemed to understand this at the same time. “This was all I had,� he said, pointing to the blood-soaked pea coat that draped over Henry’s middle.

“I have something,� Colin murmured, thinking of the straw-covered scarf he had stolen from a Snatcher not too long ago. He opened his backpack quickly and rummaged inside; the faraway pink clouds of the sunset did little to help him see.

Abruptly, his fingers enclosed on something small and warm, sending the heat travelling up his arm. He frowned, abandoning his search for the scarf, and pulled out the small object. In his palm lay a glowing Galleon.

“Dumbledore’s Army,� he whispered to himself, the ghost of a smile twisting the corners of his mouth upward. He flipped the coin over with his index finger and thumb. Harry is here, it read. We are fighting.

He stared at the Galleon for a few moments before closing his fingers into a fist around it. It was a battle — a real battle. There was something different about the way his heart began to thud in his chest this time, something that set this fight apart from the many others he had participated in against the Snatchers.

He stole a glance at Justin, who was now gripping tightly to Henry’s shockingly white hand, and he knew instinctively that Justin would not come. He would stay with Henry, keeping him safe and possibly alive as the world around them moved forward. His goal had always been to come out of this war alive, to be reunited with his family in the end.

Colin did not know if this would be the final battle, or even an important one in the grand scheme of things. But as he said his good-byes to the boys who had become his family in the past months, he realised it did not matter much to him. He would have done something, and it would all be worth it if one day, Dennis could count down the days to September first just as excitedly as they had once done together.

---

It takes two men to make one brother.
~Israel Zangwill

Small flecks of rain fell from the sky, coming to rest on the grass and embellishing each blade like a jewel. The cold felt nice on the back of Dennis’s neck; the bitter weather allowed him to feel something other than the awful thrashes of guilt and pain that whipped at him relentlessly. Perhaps this was why his parents had insisted on performing the funeral outdoors — though even Dennis could not imagine saying good bye to his brother in a stuffy, closed room. He knew Colin would not have wanted that.

Huddled under a large, sweeping black tarp, groups of guests crowded around the coffin — a deep, mahogany colour that Dennis knew had emptied his dad’s savings account. It was as though they never planned to leave this moment, as if they couldn’t expect their own lives to carry on when their son’s had ended so abruptly.

“Pity it’s raining,� his aunt whispered, squeezing his shoulder for a moment before approaching the coffin herself.

Dennis closed his eyes tightly. ‘You know what’s nice about overcast weather, Dennis?’ Colin asked. ‘It makes for wonderful pictures. The dullness of the clouds make the rest of the colours look deep and rich.’ He shook his head, shifting the sudden memory of Colin to the unreachable depths of his mind.

The crowd around the coffin cleared, and several pairs of eyes stared at Dennis expectantly. It took him a few moments to comprehend that it was his turn to go up there, his turn to say good bye to his brother and look at him one last time. His palms began to sweat and his knees wobbled as he started forward. This was harder than anything he had faced during the months he had spent in the Underground. It hurt even more than it had to return Will to his parents with the knowledge that the chances of meeting him again were unlikely.

He moved his gaze towards his brother. The last time he had seen Colin was just before they separated at the London Underground, and looking at his still form now, he marvelled at the subtle differences that made Colin seem like an entirely new person.

His blond hair was combed neatly, sweeping across his forehead. His eyes were closed, his almost girlishly long eyelashes grazing his cheeks like feathers. He was dressed in Muggle clothing — his best jeans, and a pale green button-up. The only indication that he had ever been a wizard was the thin black wand that he gripped in his left hand, though it was barely visible to ward off unwanted questions from their nosy relatives. Dennis noted a thin, red scar on Colin’s cheek and had to bite his lower lip to banish the smile that tickled at the corners of his mouth. Colin had always wanted a scar like Harry’s, a mark that he had done something to make the world a better place.

He heard someone cough behind him, and realised he had been at the coffin for far longer than anyone else had. He didn’t see why this should matter — Colin was his brother after all. No one else could claim that connection to him.

Dennis reached a hand inside, and slowly pulled Colin’s wand away from his left hand. He placed it on his brother’s chest, and folded his pale hands around it, as they had done to the rest of the wizards and witches that lost their lives in the Battle.

“Good bye, Colin,� he whispered. He felt that was inadequate somehow, as though he shouldn’t leave his brother in such a generic way. “You are my hero.�

He stepped back, his eyes never leaving Colin, even as the coffin was closed and lowered down into the depths of the earth. He remained staring at the little mound of dirt as a group of men covered the tomb with a small grey plaque. It felt as though a part of him was being buried too, as though he could never quite be whole without Colin.

He never knew living could hurt this much.

* * *

“You’re Dennis?�

Dennis looked up, dully assessing the brown-haired boy in front of him. “Who are you?� he asked, knowing he sounded rude and wishing he cared.

The boy smiled and sat down beside Dennis in the dewy grass. “My name’s Henry. Your brother saved my life.�

At the moment, Dennis did not really care if Colin had saved the life of the Minister of Magic. He hadn’t been able to save his own life, and that was what mattered to Dennis. He hugged his knees closer to his chest, noting with disinterest that his nice pants were now ruined with grass stains.

“I didn’t know Colin for very long,� Henry went on, twisting a blade of grass between his fingers. “But it didn’t take much time to realise what a great bloke he was.�

“Did you meet him at the Battle, then?� Dennis asked, glancing over at the empty chairs and wondering why Henry hadn’t left yet.

“Oh, no,� Henry said. “I met up with your brother in early August. We were…travel companions, I suppose you could say. You know Justin Finch-Fletchley?�

“Barely.�

Henry grinned, as though he had been waiting for the slightest opportunity to smile. It was infectious, and Dennis couldn’t help but give a small smile back. “He was here earlier. The three of us met up during a raid, and we stuck together for a while. We all wanted to fight. But Colin…� Henry’s voice hitched. “Colin was the real hero. He was the best at organising our plans. And he was a good friend. He never, ever left anyone behind.�

“That sounds like him,� Dennis murmured.

Henry rubbed at his eyes, and the pain etched on his face smoothed away. “He talked about you all the time, you know. It made it easier for him, I think, knowing that you were safe. But he missed you, Dennis, he missed you like hell and he’d have gone back if we’d have given him half a chance to.�

It hurt to hear these words spill out of Henry’s mouth when Dennis knew that his brother had chosen to leave him. But it was a different kind of hurt, a dull sort of ache in his heart that somewhat alleviated the incessant stabs of pain that had plagued him since he heard the news of Colin’s death.

Henry stood up and brushed off his robes. “If you ever want to hear about it, about our adventures on the run…you can come by and see me whenever you want.�

“Thank you.� Dennis’s voice was stiff, but a tiny, gentle thought told him that maybe seeing Henry again wouldn’t be so bad.

Henry turned to leave but hesitated for a moment, and fixed Dennis with a square gaze. “Everyone needed a reason to fight, Dennis. And you were Colin’s.�