Seamus didn't dare speak. He didn't dare look over at the empty beds. Instead of leaving him full, like usual, the food from the Great Feast just left him feeling heavy. Behind him, Dean sagged on the bed.
"Looks like they're really not coming, then. I thought maybe…" he said, and Seamus sighed. It would be harder this year, without them. Things felt different at the Feast. The new faces at the teacher table were ominous and daunting. But the absence of a familiar one was the worst of all. If Dumbledore died, was anybody safe? It was clear what the answer was. Seamus cleared his throat.
"We could go," he said. He'd been thinking about it for a while now, but saying it out loud made him feel like they could do it. He heard Dean give a little laugh of disbelief. Less of a laugh, more of a breath.
"Where?" Seamus tried to bite back the disappointment. If Harry could take off, then why the hell couldn't they? Though, in the back of his mind, he knew Harry wasn't hiding. Bloody hell, knowing him, he was probably fighting within an inch of his life. Seamus refused to even consider the thought that Harry could be dead.
"I dunno," he said, at last. "Far, I guess. Far from all-" he made a gesture "-this. Somewhere safe." He finally, reluctantly looked at Dean, and his sad, pitying eyes made Seamus wish he hadn't turned around at all.
"Nowhere's safe, Seamus." Seamus nodded, too quickly. He wished he didn't love Dean so much. It wasn't fair to have to love someone in the middle of a war. Why couldn't it have waited until they knew they would live to see the next year?
But unfortunately - or fortunately, Seamus didn't bloody know anymore - even if he died or god forbid Dean died, they would always love each other. When you love someone as much as Seamus loved Dean, living a life where you stopped loving them was unimaginable. Loving him was the only thing that managed to both anchor him and terrify him all at once.
Seamus was about to say something else, but then Neville came in, accidentally dropping his suitcase with a loud bang. He stood for a second, smiling just slightly. "Hey, mates." Seamus felt his heart crack a little, but in the good way. A lot of things were different, but some things never changed.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
Seamus couldn't sleep. Three beds away, Neville was snoring softly and soundly. Seamus rolled over, facing Dean in the bed next to him, his back turned to Seamus.
"Dean? You awake?"
"Yeah." Dean rolled over to face him. "Can't sleep?"
"No," Seamus admitted.
"Come here." Seamus slid out from under his covers, braving the cool air. He crossed the few feet between them and slid under the warm fleece blanket Dean's mom knit him Christmas of their third year. The feeling of Dean's legs against his electrified the room. Their faces were only a few inches apart. "If we did leave," Dean whispered, "where would we go?"
Seamus smiled and felt that same heart-cracking feeling from earlier. "We could get a nice little flat. Or even a house, because Harry's a nice bloke who'd help a mate out."
"Well, if we're gonna go somewhere safe, we'd have to go to the muggle world, so we'd need pounds," Dean interjected.
"Right, well, we'd… I dunno, transfigure ourselves some pounds. We'd…" Seamus scrambled to think of more to say, before the moment wore off. "We'd have a dog. A really big dog who'll slobber all over the piece."
"I'm more of a cat person."
"Then we'll get both. And every other month we'll redecorate the whole house, just because we can. And we'll paint one entire room yellow so when the sun is setting, the room looks like it's been lit on fire." He paused. "And we could stay there. The war could end, or go on forever, and we'd never know the difference, 'cause we'd be happy. And we'd never have to go back."
There was a moment of silence, where the only thing Seamus could hear was Dean breathing in and out.
"Sounds nice," Dean murmured, eyes shut.
"Don't fall asleep, Dean," Seamus said, though he could feel his words slurring together with the struggle of fighting off exhaustion.
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are. Don't fall asleep." With reluctance, Dean's eyes flickered open.
"Why?"
"Because things will be different in the morning." And then, Seamus ached and ached because even with Dean's body pressed against his, he was so far away. Seamus didn't know what else to say and Dean just blinked at him, almost expectantly.
Then, just like he'd done countless times before, he closed the last gap between him and Dean. Dean's lips were soft, warm, familiar. It was the kind of kiss that could save Seamus' life.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
Just before dawn, Seamus climbed back into his own bed and tried to ignore how much colder it felt.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
"Oi, Seamus. Seamus!" He woke up to Neville practically thrashing him around on his bed.
"Bloody hell, Neville! What was that for?" Neville shrugged, sheepishly.
"Breakfast." Seamus groaned.
"Go without me. I'll be down in a second." After five minutes of stubbornly curling up under the covers, Seamus pushed himself off the bed and started to get dressed. It wasn't until he was tying his tie that he noticed. Dean had put up a picture.
It was them at the Quidditch World Cup. Their faces were painted bright red and they were screaming with applause, holding onto each other's shoulders. It was a muggle photo that his dad had insisted on taking. He still wasn't quite used to all the wizarding nonsense.
Seamus pressed a finger to the edge of the photograph. It was fading. That was the year Voldemort came back. Seamus couldn't remember what it was like to feel that happy and that safe. The little boy in that picture looked like a stranger to him. The little boy was fading too.
He knew why Dean put that picture up. They were both changing too fast. But for the first time since Seamus got to Hogwarts, he knew it was okay. He'd let those little boys fade, hand in hand. Whatever him and Dean were growing to be, they'd grow together.
Seamus pulled his tie through the loop and headed down to breakfast.
