A/N:
This one shot has been written as part of a challenge set by the lovely people over at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)
The task was to write a tragedy about someone who does something or has done something that is potentially dangerous to themselves or others.
Gringotts Prompt Bank: Slash Pairing 2 – Seamus/Dean; Celebrity Quotes 5 - "Going to the club doesn't make you a bad person, going to church doesn't make you a good one." - Miley Cyrus[10 Point Bonus]; Better word for said 9 – clarified; Feeling 1 - optimistic
Rated M for self harming content
Depressed
Dean raised his wand and made another cut along his arm, wincing slightly at the pain it caused, although it was nothing compared to pain in his heart.
He hated himself with a passion for the attraction he felt for his best friend.
He hated himself for being unable to feel for Ginny, the way he felt about Seamus.
He hated that despite his best efforts he couldn't be normal, that he couldn't be like all the other boys in his year and talk about which girls were the most attractive.
Blood spilled from Dean's arms and trickled onto the floor, staining the beige carpet dark red. Seeing the blood pour from his arm made him feel better, it was almost as though all the hatred for himself was pouring out of him too.
No one was around to stop him; all his friends were either enjoying their lunch in the Great Hall or out by the Great Lake enjoying the first signs of summer.
The more he cut, the better he felt.
The more he cut, the weaker he became until he finally passed out cold on the dormitory room floor.
Seamus whistled as he walked up to the boy's dormitory. The sun was shining, exams were almost over and he had love in his heart, and he was about to express that love to the person who had captured his heart like a seeker catches a snitch. Life could not be any better for him.
He pushed open the door into the boy's dormitory and screamed in horror.
"NOOOOOOOOO!" he cried running over to the practically lifeless body lying on the floor. "What have you done?"
He placed his fingers against his best friend's neck to check for a pulse and was relieved to find that he still had one, although it was far weaker than it should be.
Seamus tore the bed sheets to shreds and wrapped up Dean's wrists to stop the flow of the blood coming from his wrists. As he did so he tried to think of a reason, any reason at all for why his best friend in the whole world would do such a thing to himself. He wondered why Dean couldn't have just come to him and talk to him if he had been feeling so depressed.
"Why did you do this?" he whispered, tears streaking down in face, obscuring his vision. His hands were shaking violently as he bandaged up Dean's arms the best he could. "What could possibly drive you to this?"
Despite his fumbling Seamus successfully managed to wrap up Dean's wrist in an acceptable manner.
He knew that now he had done the best job he could of stopping the bleeding and sealing the wounds, and now he had to get Dean to Madam Pomfrey so that she could heal him.
Seamus took his wand from his pocket and hoping that he didn't cause an explosion like his first attempts at the spell, choked out, "Wingardium Leviosa."
Seamus sat by Dean's bed day in and day out. He had lost track of how long he had been sat by his best friend's bed. He wouldn't have eaten at all if it hadn't been for his fellow Gryffindors all banding together and sneaking food out of the Great Hall for him at meal times; he was also thankful for the frequent midnight snacks that the Hogwarts House Elves brought him from the kitchen.
Madam Pomfrey wasn't happy at all with Seamus' constant presence in the Hospital Wing, but after a very explosive disagreement she had allowed him to stay under the condition that he clean up the mess he made by hand and not be in possession of a wand whist he was staying with Dean.
Seamus gladly complied with Madam Pomfrey's demands since it meant that he could stay by his best friend.
Dean had been in the Hospital Wing for nearly two weeks before he woke up, and when he did he was groggy and disorientated. His wounds had long since healed and it was unknown why he hadn't woken up sooner.
"Sea-mus," he croaked out quietly, reaching for the hand belonging to his best friend that rested on his bed. "Wa-ter ple-ase."
Seamus hastily moved from his seat and grabbed the pitcher of water and glass that sat on the small, round table at the foot of Dean's bed. He burned to ask his best friend why he had done something so foolish and dangerous but he knew now was not the time and he knew that no matter how hard he tried he wouldn't be able to find the right words. It was a delicate subject to broach, and not one that was often talked about in the wizarding world.
He passed the half full glass of water to Dean, who took it into his shaking hands and raised it to his lips and took a slow, long hearty drink from it.
You could cut the tension in the air with a knife, as both boys kept each other company avoiding the subject of the reason behind Dean's admission to the Hospital Wing. Whilst Seamus still burned to know what had tipped him over the edge, every time he tried to form the question he wondered if perhaps he would be better off not knowing.
Eventually, after a couple of hours of idle conversation, Seamus couldn't take the not knowing any longer. He had to know why Dean had done what he had, otherwise there would be no way on earth that he would be able to help him get past whatever had caused him to feel like there was no other alternative.
"Dammit Dean, why did you do?" he demanded, throwing his hands up into the air and vacating his chair by the hospital bed. "Why couldn't you have spoken to me? I could have helped you. We could've got past this together, without you having to hurt yourself. You almost died Dean."
Dean looked up at his best friend and saw that tears were filling Seamus' eyes; he had never seen Seamus cry before and it broke his heart to know that he had been the cause of them.
Dean had been expecting the question that Seamus had just asked him ever since he had opened his eyes, and was quite surprised that Seamus hadn't asked him sooner, what he hadn't expected was the sharpness of the tone that his friend had taken.
He averted his gaze from Seamus and picked a random spot on the dull grey wall in front of him. He couldn't very well look him in the eye whilst he told him this. It hadn't been the first time Dean had cut himself, but it had been the first time that he had lost consciousness and been hospitalised as a result.
He took a deep breath and then answered, "I couldn't stand the idea of the person I loves being so close but unable to do anything about it." As he said these words he chanced a glance a Seamus who had moved to the foot of his bed and was looking at him with confusion written all over his beautiful face; the same face that had a starring role in many of his dreams.
"I don't understand Dean, why couldn't you talk to me about this?" he asked, willing with all his might for him to look him the eye.
Dean mumbled something unintelligible and Seamus had to ask him to repeat himself because he didn't catch on word of what he had just said.
"Because I'm gay," Dean whispered slowly, finally meeting Seamus' eyes once more. He fully expected to see a look of disgust on his face that he frequently saw on his mother and step father's faces whenever homosexuality was mentioned on the news. To them it was the greatest sin of all.
"Oh you foolish man," Seamus sighed looking at his friend. "You once told me that going to the club doesn't make you a bad person, going to church doesn't make you a good one. Well guess what, being gay doesn't make you a bad person either. It is just a part of who you and if others cannot accept that then to hell with them. So who is the mystery man who has captured your heart mate?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at Dean, who let out a small laugh.
"You Seamus, I love you," he confessed laying his heart on the line. All he could hope for now was that his best friend wouldn't bail on him or treat him any differently because of how he felt.
Seamus' face cracked into the biggest smile he had ever smiled at the news. "I love you too Dean."
"Really," Dean asked, his eyes lighting up with glee.
Really," he clarified, walking the few paces towards the side of Dean's bed and kissing him chastely on the lips.
For the first time in a long time Dean had an optimistic outlook on life, and as long as he had Seamus by his side he would live a happy and fulfilling life.
A/N:
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