Colin Creevey knows he's lucky he doesn't have class with Harry Potter -- he has enough trouble paying attention in his lessons as it is. Still, just because Colin can't see Harry during class time doesn't mean he's not thinking about him. He is. Constantly. Colin often wonders if the old adage is true, and, if it is, if Harry can feel his ears burning.
It's the worst when Harry's on the quidditch pitch. Colin loves to watch Harry fly, so he goes down to watch Gryffindor practice as often as he can. By late October, Colin has linked the pitch to Harry so desperately in his mind that he gets a funny feeling low in his stomach just from the smell of the grass.
It's a cloudless Saturday morning, and several Gryffindors have come to the stadium to watch their housemates practice. As Oliver Wood leads the players through a blocking drill, Colin watches, captivated. He knows with a painful intensity that he shouldn't be thinking what he's thinking, that he should be just watching the Gryffindors fly. But Harry on a broomstick? The image is almost too much for Colin, and, as usual, the boy's imagination rockets off without him:
Harry soaring through the sky before swooping down and landing softly right in front of Colin, who is waiting for him at the edge of the pitch. Harry grinning at him, saying, "All right, Colin?" with bright eyes and flushed cheeks. The rest of the world disappearing into the green of Harry's eyes. Colin calmly squeezing Harry's hand in response, and Harry beaming at the simple gesture. Harry whispering conspiratorially, "Want to come with me to the locker room?" Colin debating for less than a millisecond before whispering back, "Yes." Harry striding off, broom over his shoulder, looking back to wink at Colin. Colin finding his legs and running to catch up with the older boy.
In the locker room. Colin, riveted in place on one of the benches, eyes blazing as Harry puts on a bit of a show. Harry, his back to Colin, slowly slipping off his quidditch robes. Harry pulling his scarlet and gold sweater off over his head at tossing it back at Colin. Harry tugging off his undershirt. Then his leggings and socks. Then his underwear.
Colin, mesmerized, staring. Harry, his back still to Colin, turning to look over his shoulder -- and winking. Colin, almost unthinkingly, reaching out to touch Harry --
"Practice is over, Colin, are you coming back up to the castle?"
Ginny Weasley is tugging at his sleeve when Colin snaps out of his daydream.
He looks over, and, sure enough,
Harry is trudging off toward the changing rooms, his Nimbus Two Thousand
slung over his shoulder. For a moment, Harry stops and looks back,
and Colin isn't sure, but he thinks he sees Harry wink.