Pictures Don't Lie

Disclaimer: First, I do not own Harry Potter (obviously). That credit belongs to the loffly and talented J.K. Rowling. Got that all cleared up? Good.

Author's Notes: My second one-shot from me. This one was thanks to a Challenge in the Forum called "Colin's Photos." I saw it last night and fell in love with it. So, I wrote it up! Thanks to my loffly beta Jennifer *hugs*

Summary: Remember a certain article in GoF? Harry does and he wants answers. What exactly compelled Colin Creevey to say that he and Hermione were dating? What did he know that Harry and Hermione (or anyone else, for that matter) didn’t know? He thought for a moment, then decided to confront Colin about it himself. Based on the "Colin's Photos" challenge.

Pictures Don't Lie

Rita Skeeter. Just the sound of her name was enough to invoke fear among the most respectable of witches and wizards. Her reputation? Disputable, but no one dared to cross her path for fear of appearing disgracefully in her next column. When she wanted the right story, then she would go to any lengths to get it, even if that means interrogating an innocent, and rather buoyant, Hogwarts third year. During the 1994 Triwizard Tournament, the gossip was about Hogwarts co-champion Harry Potter. Naturally, Rita was always quick to credit all of this media attention to her own self. Such was the life of a muckraking journalist, eh?

The wizarding public seemed to have noticed her penchant for writing stories of the Potter variety and spreading the news like wildfire. Anonymous owls would come in droves and people (especially eager Hogwarts students) were always willing to provide new information or perhaps even an interview, if she was lucky. One such meeting with young Colin Creevey was something that was vividly clear in her mind. That, in itself, was a miracle, because most conversations with sources ended up leaving her quite empty-handed. Not that time. Meeting Colin was a stroke of luck.

Of course, she knew perfectly well that Little-Miss-Perfect was never Potter's girlfriend. In fact, she had even told a confused Colin about it that very day. But oh, how he was adamant about it. At that moment, he pulled out a large leatherbound book with gilded pages from his bookbag and opened it, gently pointing her in the direction of a few pictures showing a candid, but seemingly innocent moment between the two Gryffindors. Those photographs were enough to change anyone's previous opinion about the two's relationship stance, or at least consider a change in opinion. It was even enough to tug the heartstrings even the smallest bit of the wizarding world's most ruthless reporter.

Naturally, Rita had offered to run one of the photos (a rather sweet one of Harry and Hermione, toast in hand, walking close to one another around the edge of the lake talking), but Creevey had outwardly refused to. "Harry's my friend," he had said, holding out his hand politely for the book.

"Fine," she said stiffly, thrusting the album back at Colin with such force that the boy nearly fell straight to the ground. Honestly, what did it even matter that the picture was never sent to press? Witches and wizards lapped up the news in droves, all-the-while establishing Hermione Granger's position as the one who had captured young Potter's attention. Being the inquisitive reporter that she is, she still had her sources from inside Hogwarts, feeding her information bit-by-bit about Potter's daily activities-as well as what he frequently did with Granger. And every time she inquired about their romantic status, the answer was always the same.

"They're just friends."

Rita, however, begged to differ.

One of these days they'll see what that boy sees and why they don't...

------

Harry had always dreaded the night before leaving Hogwarts even more than the actual event of hopping aboard the Hogwarts Express and watching the towers of the castle disappear into view. It was an image that has been permanently etched into his brain for the last 5 years he had attended the wizarding school. And tonight would be his last night in the castle as a 6th year. Tomorrow he would be leaving Hogwarts, which had become a sort of unofficial home for him. This time tomorrow, he'd be back at Number 4 Privet Drive, beginning another dismal summer under the tyranny of his only living relatives, the Dursley's. He would very prefer to spend his summer with his best friends Ron and Hermione, yet he always found himself on the midnight train to hell year after year. Dumbledore had explained the reason for this, of course, but that didn't keep Harry from despising this arrangement any further than he always has.

At Hermione's insistance, he spent part of his time before the Leaving Feast packing his belongings and clearing out his side of the dormitory for the summer. He opened his trunk and groaned loudly. This was going to take ages! He had gone through his years here, throwing his things carelessly and haphazardly into his trunk without paying them any mind. It was normally very simple to fix it all up when he got back to the Dursley's. But this he couldn't deal with at all. Dirty robes clustered in corners, bits and pieces of paper strewn everywhere, socks lying depressingly on a few past articles about himself by such sources as "The Daily Prophet."

Now, he wasn't sure why he had always felt the need to keep his "press cuttings" as Snape had grown to calling them these past few years. To be quite honest, the majority of them consisted of rubbish and lies. Simply reading them was enough to make Harry's blood pressure jack up a few notches above normal. Rita Skeeter's name was said in his voice the same way that Voldemort's was, if you could imagine. He quickly started shuffling through the articles and magazines, giving looks of disgust at quite a few of them. At the bottom of the pile was the very article that started it all. It gave other reporters license to lie about him and to speculate about his love life...or lack thereof, perhaps.

Harry laughed to himself when his eyes reached the bit about him and Hermione. What a ridiculous pile of rubbish, he thought. Me and HERMIONE?! Of all the people! Honestly, what was Colin thinking?

There was a question he desperately wanted an answer to. What exactly compelled Colin Creevey to say that he and Hermione were dating? What did he know that Harry and Hermione (or anyone else, for that matter) didn’t know? He thought for a moment, then decided to confront Colin about it himself. He tossed aside the other clippings leaving only the one in question and took off out of the dormitory. One door down was the 5th year boys' dormitory. He had hoped Colin had not left for the Leaving Feast quite yet.

He tapped on the door loudly, yelling, "Colin!" On the other side, Harry could hear loud shuffling and footsteps making their way closer and closer towards the door. A few seconds later, Colin's small, blonde-topped head was sticking out, his eyes bright.

"Hiya, Harry!" he said jovially. This had been the first time that Harry had sought out Colin and not the other way around, as was the normal practice. Colin couldn't have been more thrilled.

"Can I ask you something, Colin?" Harry asked apprehensively, trying hard to keep his anger in check. He held up the newspaper clipping and pointed to Colin's contribution. Just one sentence, but it carried.

"Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry , is one of the top students in the school."

Harry waited until Colin had finished registering what he was on about. "Why did you say that about Hermione and me? Don't you realize that you contributed to Rita Skeeter's stories that were built up exclusively on lies? Lies, Colin. All of this was a lie."

Colin's eyes widened dramatically. "You mean..." he started. "You think Hermione is ugly?"

With a grunt of exasperation, Harry yelled, "No, Colin! She's not-she's...anything but ugly, but that's not the point."

"Then what is?" asked Colin pointedly.

"We aren't dating. We never dated. And most likely, we never will date, but do you know why?" Harry stared at Colin, while the 5th year gave an involuntary twitch and shook his head slowly. "Because we're just friends," Harry answered himself.

Colin rolled his eyes upwards, repressing the urge to hold back small chuckles at Harry's attempt of denial. "I really beg to differ, Harry. Not to be rude, but your actions speak a lot louder than your words."

A small crease appeared between Harry's eyebrows as he contemplated Colin's statement, hardly getting what this had to do with the article at all. "And what does that mean, exactly?"

"Let me show you something," Colin said, ducking back inside of his dormitory and hastily made way towards his trunk, which was completely surrounded by his unpacked belongings. He reached inside of his trunk and pulled out the very same photo album that he had shown Rita nearly three years before. Holding it close to his chest, be began his retreat back towards the open door and a very confused Harry. "Just look," he said, handing over the book to Harry, who had no idea what Colin was trying to prove with a book.

Harry quickly opened the album, skimming over various moving and non-moving pictures of Colin and his younger brother Dennis, who was a Gryffindor 3rd year. He had noticed quite a lot of the photographs were of himself, and even more with Ron and Hermione (but more so with just him and Hermione alone). One such picture was a breathless Hermione in 2nd year running towards him dramatically after she had been un-Petrified. Several pictures that had been taken of the three of them contained Harry sitting dangerously close to Hermione. Whether they were studying or simply talking, Colin was there to take a photo of the moment. And of course, he didn't pass up another opportunity when Hermione had kissed Harry on the cheek at the end of their 4th year at King's Cross Station.

His hand reached upwards, absentmindedly brushing his fingers over that very cheek in question. He hadn't exactly had time to ponder what that kiss really meant. Of course, he didn't think it was a turning point moment or anything quite that special. She had kissed Ron the same way a few months later before a Quidditch match without giving it a second thought. What exactly made his kiss terribly special and Ron's not so? He paused on both of those photographs, silently debating with himself as to what it all meant.

Colin caught Harry's expression and grinned. "I wouldn't look too far into it if I were you," he said. "They both look the same on the surface, look at the difference of the pictures in Hermione's face."

Harry wasn't in the mood for compare and contrast. He looked down at one of Colin's most recent photos, one of him and Hermione laughing jovially at something Ron had done with Hermione's hand resting on his arm, and growled. Snapping the book shut, he said angrily, "How the bloody hell do these pictures prove anything? They're just pictures, Colin! They don't prove anything!"

"Pictures don't lie, Harry," said Colin defensively, holding his album tighter in his arms. "You may refuse to see it yourself, but everyone else already knows that you two really like each other. And I mean really like each other. If you want to continue to fool yourself, then that's okay with me. But to refuse to see that Hermione really likes you too, is something I don't understand. You've only had one girlfriend according to your agenda, right, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry grunted, eyeing Colin curiously.

Colin nodded to himself. "Right, well...when are you ever going to get the chance to find someone around here who cares about you as much as Hermione does? That's what you should be asking yourself. But just remember Harry, pictures don't lie." He opened the photo album once more and pulled out one of the pictures from inside. Handing it to Harry, he stepped back inside of his dormitory and shut the door, leaving an oddly confused Harry outside of it.

Harry looked down at the picture in his hand in curiosity. Once again, he found himself staring down at blushing Hermione, kissing Harry on the cheek in King's Cross station. He continued to stare at the picture while walking down the spiral staircase that winded its way in the direction of the common room. If anything, his conversation with Colin left him with even more questions than he had started with. Some days he couldn't understand where Colin was coming from, but today-a few things were starting to click into place. There was a difference between those two pictures. In this one, it was quite obvious that Hermione's cheeks were as red as the hair atop Ron's head and that was certainly saying something.

Maybe Colin did have a point, Harry began thinking, plopping himself down close to the fireplace in an empty armchair. There was a busy commotion of Gryffindors preparing themselves to leave in the morning, so no one was likely to bother Harry at such a moment. But Colin's words were certainly digging under his skin-not in a negative way, but a positive one. What he was saying to him made sense, but could it possibly be true? Harry had been denying it publicly to others and even to himself that he and Hermione weren't dating. Well, that part was true. But did he ever say anything about how he really felt? Merlin's ghost! That little tosser was right!

"Harry!"

He looked towards the direction of the voice and saw Hermione standing at the foot of the staircase, a beaming smile on her face. Just the opportune moment, Harry thought, his stomach tossing around violently. "Hi, Hermione," he said, sitting up in his armchair much straighter than he had been.

Rushing over to him, she said, "I've been looking for you for ages! Listen, I was wondering if you could-"

"Sure," Harry said without giving it much thought. What could be a better than spending your last day at Hogwarts than spending it with the girl you lo-like?

Hermione looked at him curiously. "Are you alright, Harry?"

Harry nearly burst out laughing at the perplexed expression on her face, but suddenly thought better of it. "I couldn't be better," he said, taking the initiative by leaning over and planting a small kiss on her cheek.

Eyes wide with apparent shock, Hermione stared at Harry, her jaw had dropped to the floor. "Harry, wh-what was that for?"

"Ask Colin," he responded simply with grin.