There was a buzz on the platform that hadn't quite reached the Hogwarts Express. Peering out from behind the compartment curtains, a sandy-haired boy could see wizarding chins wagging as far as the eye could see. This was the first time that he'd taken this journey, so he merely accepted it as ordinary and sat back into his chair – but really, this was quite a different energy to the usual mood of the day the children went back to school, and there was a very specific reason for that. Had it really been so long since they'd lived in constant fear – long enough that The Boy Who Lived had lived to become eleven years old?
Of course, the chatter on the Hogwarts Express itself was quite different to the reminiscing that was dominating the platform. The hundred or so new first-years on the train were not concerned with wars and villains and survivors. Why should they be, with a far more personal adventure stretching out before them on the train-tracks ahead? They had focused their attention solely on themselves, in the way children tended to, and on who exactly was going to be their new best friend.
For this particular first-year, the question answered itself quickly enough. Who'd leave another new starter struggling with their trunk on their own? Not him. The boy he'd spotted gave him a bright, broad grin when he stepped over to help without asking, and it convinced him very quickly that he'd made the right choice.
'I'm Seamus,' the sandy-haired boy said warmly when they finally let go of the heavy trunk, having spent a few minutes dragging it into an empty compartment. Admittedly, it had been pretty heavy even with both of them helping, but neither of them were going to admit that. 'Seamus Finnigan. Who're you?'
'Dean Thomas,' his companion replied. Even already at such a young age, his voice had a certain smoothness to it; something calm and collected and brilliant that Seamus couldn't help but want to collect and keep close. Good friends sounded just like that. Good friends were fun and mischievous and cool. That was it – Dean was just naturally cool. 'What house do you reckon you're in?'
'Gryffindor,' he replied quickly. His mam had been a Hufflepuff, and in Seamus's books that was a cause for concern. He was sure that if his dad hadn't been a muggle, he'd have been a Gryffindor for sure, though, so it wasn't all lost. Who wouldn't want to be a Gryffindor anyway? They were tough and exciting – and their animal was a lion. If he got stuck with being a badger over a lion, there'd be serious trouble at this school. He'd rather go home.
Apparently, though, for all his deliberation about where he wanted to be – and the lack of it concerning where he might actually be – he'd given the right answer. Dean's smile broadened slightly as he took a seat. 'Is that the brave one? That's what I want to be, too.'
'Don't you know?'
Dean looked sheepish – a Hufflepuff expression if Seamus ever saw one. For a moment, his faith in this new friend wavered, but then it returned as he heard the explanation. 'Only found out I was a wizard not long ago. None of my family are. That's alright, isn't it?'
'Yeah,' Seamus agreed instantly, just relieved that the basket he'd put all his eggs in wasn't a completely useless duffer after all. A wizard not knowing what the houses were would be unforgiveable – well. Someone who'd grown up as one, anyway. 'My dad's a muggle too; don't mean nothing to me. So… you don't know anything about magic, then?'
'Not really.'
'You excited?'
'Yeah, very,' he said, nodding emphatically. He wasn't at all fazed when Seamus snorted, just giving him a slightly bemused smile. 'What?'
'You come off all cool,' Seamus explained, 'but you're really dead goofy, aren't you?'
'A bit,' Dean admitted, grinning sheepishly. 'Does that bother you?'
Seamus shook his head, feeling better by the second – well, who wouldn't be nervous about the idea of making no friends at a new school like this? Knowing he'd met someone alright was bound to calm him down. 'Nah. I'm dead goofy too; you're alright.'
'Brilliant.'
'Yeah.'
They shared a boyish, innocent grin and sat back to look out of the window instead, watching the chattering crowd of parents as the departure time drew ever closer. 'Looks mad out there,' Seamus said quietly. Dean nodded in agreement, so he pressed on. 'So many people. Reckon you can spot a Slytherin from what they look like?'
For a few minutes, that was exactly what Dean and Seamus tried to do. Despite the fact that it turned out to be a bit of a silly game – they weren't going to know if they were right until they got to Hogwarts, after all, and anyway Dean didn't seem quite sure of what a Slytherin even was at first – it became something of a bonding experience. Before long, they were laughing more than guessing. A girl with a short, dark bob pulled a face so filthy at them for looking at her from the window that they couldn't help but fall backwards onto their seats, creasing up with laughter. They couldn't have said what was so funny, but it kept them entertained until the point when the train whistle blew. In Seamus's eyes, that meant it didn't really matter.
Dean stood bolt upright at the window as he heard the sound, frantically fishing the platform for his parents, both guilty and hurt that he'd forgotten to do it earlier. Seamus watched, already casually waving to his own mam and dad. It was odd, he thought; odd that a boy of their age would care so obviously about wanting to wave goodbye to his parents.
Would he be picked on for it, normally? Maybe. Maybe – but Seamus just wasn't the type to.
He looked away kindly as Dean sniffed and settled back down into his seat. The train had left the station at a crawling pace, but it picked up speed quite quickly as they rolled out of London and into the open countryside. It didn't take very long, and by the time the view outside the window had gone completely green, Dean had stopped sniffling and his eyes weren't as noticeably red anymore.
'Reckon we guessed all the Slytherins, there,' Seamus offered anxiously, hoping that was a decent lead back in. He didn't want to talk about how Dean felt – or acknowledge that he'd noticed he was feeling anything at all, come to think of it. It turned out that it was fine. Dean nodded gratefully, stammering a little in his eagerness to take him up on the invitation.
'Y-yeah. We definitely did.'
'Going to have to watch the sorting dead closely now.'
'If either of us gets Slytherin now it's going to be kind of bad,' Dean mused quietly, smiling a little as he turned back to look at Seamus. 'But I don't think we will.'
'No,' Seamus agreed. 'Me neither. Punch me if I do.'
Dean laughed, shaking his head. 'I'd be a Slytherin if I did that, I reckon.'
'Yeah. Yeah… was a secret test,' Seamus joked. 'But you can anyway.'
'I don't want to hit anybody,' he said, smiling sheepishly again. Seamus was just beginning to wonder if that was his ordinary, default facial expression when it started to transform into something a little cheekier. No – it had to be that. That looked so much more natural on his face. 'Maybe I could jinx you, though.'
'Like to see you try.'
They were still snickering at each other from the same verbal play-fight when the trolley came along – and even still when frizzy-haired Hermione Granger came in to ask if they'd seen Neville's toad. At this point, unfortunately, their moods also had the assistance of a fair amount of sweets and chocolate, and they'd gotten a little hyper.
'A toad?' Seamus spluttered, Irish accent far more obvious when he was hyper. He spoke too quickly. 'What'd you want a toad for? Hope it's jumped out the window and be done with it.'
'Just been eating chocolate frogs,' was Dean's contribution – a little kinder in tone but no less overexcited. 'Might have eaten a real toad by accident.'
'They're not the same,' Hermione said snippily. 'Well, if you can't give a serious answer, I suppose I'll carry on asking to see if anybody wants to be really helpful.'
'Yeah, alright.'
Seamus smirked as she flounced off, turning back to Dean to get his reaction. 'Merlin; bit of a snob, isn't she? Bet she's going to be a right piece of work at school.'
Dean was less interested in Hermione than he was, though – less interested by far. 'Are we going to be best mates?' he asked quietly.
'You're not meant to ask that,' Seamus said, blushing until he was quite sure his freckles must have disappeared into the sea of pink he felt appearing. Dean looked just as embarrassed, so he cleared his throat to explain. 'Isn't it a bit uncool?'
'Well, yeah,' Dean said. 'Maybe. But I don't want to just… kind of… leave it, and then you be someone else's. I've been really scared of not making any friends.'
'You?' Seamus blurted out. 'You've been scared?'
'Yeah,' Dean said uncertainly. 'Why?'
Seamus wasn't sure he could explain. Instead, he paused and then nodded. It seemed like the right decision to make at the time, and it must have been – seven years later, he still wouldn't have regretted the decision even once. 'Yeah. We'll be best mates.'
Dean's smile was so wide that Seamus could have sworn it would have to be pinned up, like a bed-sheet on the washing line when too many muggles were around to dry them properly. 'Brilliant.'
'Brilliant,' Seamus agreed.
'We really haven't seen the toad, have we?'
'Nope,' Seamus confirmed, smirking slightly as he reached to open another packet of Every Flavour Beans. 'Might not have said if I had. Do this Neville kid a favour.'
'What house d'you reckon he's in? What house is 'forgetful'?'
'Hufflepuff,' Seamus said certainly. 'The ones that aren't much of anything get put in there.' The thought seemed to make Dean nervous, so he shook his head. 'Nah; not you. You're a Gryffindor, definitely.'
'Are you sure?'
He nodded. 'Honestly, mate. You can tell a mile off.'
'How'd you know?'
Seamus sat back in his chair, pausing to think of a decent, convincing answer. One didn't come forward, but it didn't change his mind. 'I just do. You're just… like that. Just how it is.'
It wasn't much to go on, but it seemed to be enough for Dean, at least for now. He nodded warmly, folding his legs beneath himself and clearing away a few of the wrappers from the seat beside him. Seamus watched him do it – nothing got crumpled or spoiled. He flattened each one out and then folded it up carefully to put it inside one of the bigger boxes.
'Weird,' Seamus said, but Dean just looked up with a little smile.
'Yeah; I am a bit.'
If he was willing to admit it, Seamus thought, then surely it was fair enough.
All changed into their Hogwarts uniforms, Dean and Seamus had been expecting to step right into the castle from the train, but apparently it wasn't going to be like that. The Hogwarts Express had pulled into some old-fashioned station far smaller than King's Cross – decidedly not a castle, however hard you squinted. Of course, it wasn't hard to see where you had to go –especially not with thick-bearded Rubeus Hagrid towering over everybody's heads and voices with his loud cries of, 'Firs' years! Firs' years over here!'
Seamus did much of the leading. He had learned fairly quickly that although Dean was pretty cool and casual, he was also kind of passive and didn't much like flustered situations, and this certainly counted as one of those. It turned out that leading was a pretty important job, too. Even as he clasped eyes on Neville he had a feeling that it was the boy who'd lost the toad. It didn't help that Hermione Granger was hanging around by him, of course, but he just had an air of nervousness about him. Something told Seamus they were better steering clear.
'Here,' he muttered quietly. 'We'll get this one.'
Dean was perfectly happy to follow, and stood by it with his facial expression an odd combination of nervousness and calm – it was as though he was worried, but knew it was illogical, and knew he'd be okay. 'Any other twos?'
'We're a two, if you like,' called over a curly-haired creature with a stouter-looking blonde boy in tow. 'Justin Finch-Fletchley's the name, and this is Ernie.'
'Hullo,' Ernie said, clearly not feeling very talkative – his eyes were fixed stubbornly on the surface of the water. Seamus had to admit it didn't look particularly inviting to him either.
'I'm Seamus.'
'I'm Dean Thomas,' he said, casting a glance back at Seamus before adding, 'and yeah; come with us.'
Seamus nodded, wondering what that had been about. It had felt like he was asking permission, but it felt so odd that he should do that. Regardless, it was probably better to answer Dean's unspoken question aloud. 'Yeah. Hop in.'
'Thanks.'
Unfortunately for everyone involved, that wasn't the last word Justin said. Though his companion Ernie seemed to have glazed over, watching the water as if neglecting to do so would let it pull him in, Dean and Seamus were more than aware of the constant stream of words that came from Justin's mouth. He told them about coming from a muggle-born home, and about potentially going to Eton instead; he was halfway through telling them a supposedly funny story about his parents' reactions to magic being real when Seamus felt forced to interrupt.
'Christ,' he said. 'You don't half prattle on.'
'Do I?' Justin said, blinking awkwardly. 'I'm sorry. I think it must be a trait from my mother – at least, we both talk a lot when we're unsure of something. Aren't we all a little unsure at the moment? We've been discussing houses practically all the way here, haven't we, Ernie?'
'Mm,' contributed Ernie. It was only a monotonous hum, but at least it was a break from Justin's silky stream of consciousness.
'Yes. I think we might be on for Ravenclaw, both of us, but we're not sure. Ern thought Hufflepuff, maybe, which I suppose wouldn't be too awful. Badgers are rather resourceful creatures, I've always found.'
Seamus snorted, silenced by a faintly amused look from Dean. It didn't occur to him how strange it was that he should already be able to read that look, or how strange it was that he'd chosen to obey it after such a short period of time.
'Catch a fly in your mouth?' Justin asked brightly.
'Something like that,' Dean told him, patting Seamus on the back as he heaved forward again to hide another laugh. Something told him that a great portion of his time at Hogwarts – at least, the bits he spent in Dean Thomas's company – would comprise of trying his hardest not to laugh like an idiot. Fingers crossed they'd be able to sit together in all the worst lessons, then. Fingers crossed they were in the same house, actually. The way they were getting on, Seamus thought it was likely, but you could never really tell. Nothing was guaranteed.
All he knew for certain was that he really, really didn't want to be in Hufflepuff if this broken record was going to be, too.
They finally managed to escape Justin and Ernie in the hustle and bustle leading up to the castle doors. It took a bit of fine manoeuvring that Seamus felt quite proud of once they'd stopped, but that feeling faded away quite fast as the doors to the castle – impressive, but he'd been distracted enough by willing Justin to shut up that he'd missed the first glance – everybody fell silent in unison. The woman that answered the door was quite an intimidating figure indeed. With black hair scraped up into a painfully tight bun and lips pursed tightly enough that even the most talented thief wouldn't stand a chance of kissing, she looked like the kind of person that was so wrong to mess with that it was genuinely tempting for Seamus to try.
"No," muttered Dean, apparently already able to read Seamus's facial expressions too. "She looks scary."
"That's the point," he murmured back, but he didn't have any time to speak before she led them inside and started speaking. It all became very intense very quickly. People that had, hours ago, been utterly convinced of their houses, now looked utterly disorientated and anxious – Seamus didn't count himself among them, but even Dean's brave smile was tainted with worry. As such, he imagined he wasn't wearing quite as good a poker face as he'd thought. Seamus had many faults, but being self-deluded was not one of them.
"Nervous?" Dean managed eventually.
"Nah, not really. Just want to know where I am. Antsy." He was surprised to find that was truer than he'd initially realised. He really didn't want to be in Hufflepuff, no – but he wasn't terrified, by any means. Hoping that was a good sign given that one of Gryffindor's most important traits was bravery, he shrugged smiled lopsidedly. "You go where you go. Right?"
"Right."
"Why; are you?"
Dean shrugged, smiling lightly and tipping his hand. "Yes, sort of. But like you say… we'll go where we're meant to go. That's all. I just don't want to make a fool of myself in front of everyone."
"Be fine," Seamus assured him, looking around at the others. Hermione Granger looked practically electrified – with any luck, she'd be in Ravenclaw and out of their hair. He sincerely doubted either him or Seamus would be there, after all. "Nothing to get your knickers in a twist about."
Though he could see Dean appreciated the joke, he realised he wasn't going to be able to calm him down about something like this. Your Hogwarts house was extremely important, and a point of pride – or shame – for the rest of your life. He was at the point of almost patting Dean's arm, sure that was what men were meant to do when they wanted to give a bit of manly comfort, when the small army of ghosts came floating through one of the castle walls.
Even for somebody used to magic, that wasn't an especially normal sight. As such, Seamus was quite taken aback – but that was nothing compared to Dean's reaction. He flinched like he'd been bitten by something, and was startled enough to stay silent instead of making any embarrassing noises. He kept his eyes trained firmly on them; even when it became clear they were friendly, he still didn't seem to trust them.
"You know they can't hurt you, right?" Seamus asked quietly.
"Er…"
"They're just ghosts, mate."
"Yeah," Dean agreed. "They're just weird, you know?"
"Very weird," Seamus agreed, but it was clear that in his eyes, this weirdness wasn't necessarily a bad thing. "I wonder if they'd tell us what it's like to die?"
"Ugh; don't," Dean told him, finally turning away from where the ghosts had once been to face the front again. "That's the last thing I need right now; thinking about how I'm going to die. Just let me get through this first, alright?"
Seamus laughed quietly, hoping to get a similarly distracted reaction out of his new friend. For the moment, at least, he did – but all too soon they were called through to be sorted anyway. He watched Dean's face sour, and almost wanted to squeeze his shoulder but soon realised he was beginning to feel his own heart hammer, and the idea of passing on a bit of courage faded. Part of him still wanted to switch places with Dean, though – if they were doing it alphabetically, then he was going to have to wait for ages until he could finally breathe properly again. Seamus was only in 'F'; that wasn't too far away. That being said, he was beginning to feel as though he didn't possess any qualities at all – a blank sheet in a sea of similar young faces.
