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nevrafire prompted me with OMC/Colin Creevey: true love.

Unrequited Fascinations (G; Colin/OMC, the Creeveys, the Sorting Hat; 355 words): Colin has always been quick to develop fascinations . . . for the right sorts of boys.

The boy was older, perhaps even a teenager, and he had messy black hair and specs. Colin couldn't eat his ice, he was so fascinated by him.

"Oh, Colin," said his mother, in fond exasperation, "you're dripping all over yourself!"

At six, Colin didn't care about that. It was the boy, not an ice from Fortescue's, that he wanted.

~*~

He saw him again when he was ten. This time, he overheard the boy talking with his parents about Hogwarts—and the boy winked at him!

"Will I get to go to Hogwarts, Mum?" he asked, being careful not to drip on himself as he stared at the boy.

"You know you will, darling. Your letter will come soon."

"Good! I want to meet that, er, I want to meet Harry Potter! Do you think that he'll be my friend?"

His parents exchanged glances, and his father said, "Hero worship, dear?"

His mother patted his father's hand. "Of course, darling."

At the time, Colin didn't understand what they meant; all he could think about was that the boy, his boy, had winked at him, and that had to mean he wanted to be his friend.

~*~

At long last, Colin was about to board the train to Hogwarts. It disappointed him greatly that he hadn't got to go to Fortescue's before leaving home, but that didn't matter.

I'll see my boy soon.

Only he didn't. Although he searched everyone's face in the Great Hall before his Sorting, he saw no trace of his dark-haired boy. His disappointment was profound . . . until his eyes lit up under the Sorting Hat as they fell on Harry Potter.

He looks just like him! Colin thought, begging the Hat to Sort him into Gryffindor.

"Are you sure?" asked the Hat.

Very! Oh, please, please Sort me into Gryffindor!

The Hat chuckled. "You're not the first to want to Sort for 'true love', and you won't be the last."

Colin didn't know anything about love, but he was resolved, as he proudly walked to the Gryffindor table, to take as many photographs of Harry Potter as he could.

They'll remind me of my boy.