Disclaimer: Recognize it? Not mine.
We Could Die Tonight
"Bunch of cowards. I bet they've never been in a real fight." The rage in Dean's voice is apparent, and Seamus thinks that his friend has changed too much. Dean looks too thin, too grim, and his gaze reflects every evil it has fallen upon.
That doesn't make Seamus love Dean any less. In any case, it only makes him love him more. Because he's come to fight, and Seamus wants to believe he's come to fight with him. For him.
(It certainly seemed like it when Dean first appeared in the Room of Requirement and Seamus ran to hug him. Dean held him tight and whispered, "I've missed you." Seamus wants to believe.)
But Seamus knows better than anyone that Dean is braver than that. Dean has come to fight - without a wand, no less - for everything he believes in. Now that two Death Eaters stands in front of them, it's quite evident that the moment has come.
"Let's show 'em," Seamus says, drawing his wand. "Let's show 'em how real fighting is done."
Seamus knows he shouldn't be encouraging Dean. But, even if he did voice his true feelings, they wouldn't stop Dean from charging towards one of the men and punching him in the stomach.
The attack, while frontal, takes both men by surprise. Even Seamus watches as Dean and his opponent fall to the floor, sending the latter's wand flying away from him.
(Seamus smiles evilly, amused by the shocked look on the man's face. Dean is right, he thinks. These idiots don't know how to fight.)
Too late, it occurs to him that he should retrieve the discarded wand, but the other Death Eater gets to it first.
And that's when he attacks.
Now Dean is straddling a Death Eater and deforming his face Muggle-style, while Seamus sends flashes of light in another's direction and does his best not to get struck in return. He does his best to forget that his life depends on this battle, but he can't forget that Dean's life also does.
Just as the thought makes him lose his focus, the hex he cast bounces off a shield and onto a painting right next to his opponent.
And the painting explodes.
There's fire, and there's smoke. There's blaring heat clawing at his face.
And then silence. And fear.
"Seamus?"
That is Dean, and the fear is gone.
The smoke clears enough for him to see the man he's fighting. He's thrown off-balance because of the explosion, so Seamus takes advantage of the confusion and hexes him unconscious.
Adrenaline runs through his veins. Seamus can't decide if it lasted too long, or if it was over way too fast.
"Only youcan make a painting explode" is the comment that breaks the silence. "Seriously, mate. Stop blowing shit up."
"Oh, shut up," Seamus says merrily. "This would've made all the professors that weren't proud of me... well, proud of me."
In the foggy light, Seamus now sees Dean's grinning, bruised face. His eyes go over Dean's opponent, and now Dean's wounds seem like nothing.
It breaks Seamus that easygoing Dean has so much anger welled up inside of him, but he can't blame him. In fact, he wouldn't respect Dean if hewasn'tangry, all things considered.
But Seamus just wants Dean to be happy.
"Cast a Full Body-Bind Curse on them," Dean suggests. "If they regain consciousness, they won't be able to move."
As Dean's voice is strained, Seamus tries to speak joyously. "What would I do without you?" he asks, proceeding to take Dean's advice. He gets his Death Eater first, not before kneeling to retrieve the wands they'd rightfully won over.
Then he walks up to Dean's opponent, and Seamus can't look at his face as he casts the spell.
Silence still engulfs them, making it clear that they're isolated. Seamus welcomes the isolation, though it only delays the inevitable.
"Did you see, Seamus?" Dean raises his fists with a defiant smile. "These two work perfectly fine."
"Yeah, but one of these two might work better." He raises the two wands they've won over. Dean examines them closely.
"Which one is my bloke's?"
"Dunno. Just pick one."
Dean tries out both wands. The second one works well enough, for he smiles. Some red and gold sparks fly from the wand's tip, and Seamus thinks it's fitting that Dean is producing their House colors.
They deserve to celebrate their current bravery, however quaintly, however briefly.
"This is not bad at all!" Dean says.
"Red oak, dragon heartstring, ten and a quarter inches." His tone clearly means to mock Ollivander. "It's reasonably springy, and it's best suited for beating a Death Eater's arse."
Dean laughs, and it's the most beautiful sound Seamus has ever heard. Seamus had craved it for months, and hearing it makes Seamus feel like he's in paradise. A hellish paradise, but paradise all the same.
Dean's laugh breaks the silence with an eerie echo that seems to alert people to their presence. Footsteps can be heard in the distance, and Seamus has no doubt that they're headed in their direction.
"I've really missed you, Dean," he confesses, and it's only fair. Dean said it before, and it's the right time to let him know.
Their eyes meet and his heartbeat quickens.
And the footsteps are getting closer.
"Same here," Dean answers. He looks as if he wants to say something else, so Seamus keeps quiet. "When I was... Allthis time, I thought I'd never see you again. I'm just so glad to be with you. So glad, and yet..."
Dean is unable to complete the sentence, but Seamus knows him so well that he can fill in the blank.
"And yet," he says, "this could be the last time."
Shared thoughts are now in the air between them. It's now or never, they say. There's so much left to say, so much left to do...
And the footsteps are getting closer.
It's now or never, they say, and maybe that's why Dean throws himself into Seamus' arms, much like Seamus did at the Room of Requirement. But there's a difference - Dean is kissing him, and Seamus is pulling him closer, and for that timeless instant nothing else matters.
Seamus wonders about Dean's reason. He's never shown interest in him, but is he really going to complain? All he cares is that it's happening, and he doesn't care about what anyone else would say or think about it.
Because they probably never will.
(But he should probably care, because Dean thinks that Seamus has the clearest smile he's ever missed, the brightest eyes that he's ever seen, the mind that's made him laugh the most, the very best friend he's ever had, and the most beautiful soul he's ever loved. Seamus can't possibly know.)
Seamus thinks that it's maybe the intensity of the moment, the euphoria of their little victory, a display of gratitude, maybe the need to do something crazy before it's too late. Whatever it is, he lets Dean kiss him without protesting. The footsteps are almost there, and their lives could end any second now.
If Seamus has to die tonight, let it be in that state of pure bliss.
Notes: I'm not a big Deamus fan. I like leaving good friendships as they are - just friendships. But this was so much fun to write, I think I'm boarding the Deamus ship against my will.
This is written in Finnick's name for the Hunger Games Fanfic Style Competition on the HPFC forums. Of the prompts given, I used the following five: The weapon, the word, the word-count, the emotion and the pairing.
A million thanks to the amazing and awesome Jess (autumn midnights) for proof-reading this story, and walking the extra mile while doing it.
To everyone else, thanks for reading! Please be kind enough to leave a review. I love hearing from you all.
-Karyn.