Author's Note:

The story of how Dean Thomas lost his mind, fell in love and found his Gryffindor side. This is a tale of magic, spoons and organised chaos.

It also contains slash. You were warned.

This is my first attempt at fan-fiction, so if there are any gaping holes in my use of British and/or Hogwartian language (and mindset) feel free to correct them! Constructively. Haters gonna hate, gators gonna gate, but I'd rather you didn't. Gate, that is. Because nobody wants that.

Unfortunately, this truly excellent world and all the characters in it do not belong to me. They belong to the Goddess of Writing, J.K. Rowling. I will admit that it is my life's ambition to meet her - but preferably not in court.

Bon appetit!

- How Dean Thomas Lost His Mind -

It was the year after the War. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft an Wizardry was practically bursting at the seams. This was owing to the NEWT students allowed to return and complete their magical education. Students and teachers alike wanted to forget all about Voldemort, Death Eaters and Horcruxes. It was a year of happy endings, sad endings, hope, magic, new beginnings and a surprising amount of pumpkin juice. It also involved two Gryffindor boys whose futures had yet to be set.

With these two boys, our story begins.

At half past six in the morning, Dean Thomas awoke to an almighty crash. This was swiftly followed by a torrent of swearing from the general direction of the bathroom.

Dean cracked an eyelid open and peered through the fog of sleep. He caught sight of the clock and attempted a groan, but it got lost somewhere between his stomach and his voice box. He glanced blearily around the room.

Ron and Harry's bed-hangings were both drawn shut. Neville's soft snores proved him innocent. Then Dean's eyes lighted upon his best friend's bared and obviously empty bed. Typical. This time he really did groan. Of course it was Seamus. Who else but the Irishman had such a colourful vocabulary?

"Finnegan? You all righ'?" He called out softly. No reply. I should probably check he's still alive, Dean thought belatedly.

He rolled out of bed and landed with a thump, which shook him considerably more awake. The door to the bathroom was slightly ajar. He could hear thrum of water against tiles.

"Seamus?"

He peered cautiously into the bathroom.

He grinned. Seamus was still well in the land of the living, and cursing eloquently to prove it. Clutching his elbow, Seamus behind the shower's chest-high stone wall. Dean, satisfied that his friend was, in fact, still breathing, was about to heed the call of his pillow and go back to bed.

Something stopped him.

Seamus stepped into the shower and Dean's world ground to a halt.

It wasn't that Seamus was unclothed. That had never bothered Dean before. It wasn't to do with his sandy-brown hair being perfectly ruffled, or the way his blue eyes widened slightly as the water hit hit skin.

None of these things mattered. But the expression on Seamus's face really, really did. The Irishman shuddered slightly as the heat flared across his cold skin. His face was heaven; his eyes closed slighty, lips parted and the sweetest of smiles gracing his features.

Suddenly, the other things did matter. A lot. As did the way Seamus was arching up as he stepped further into the heat. Dean's mind, unbidden by him, began picturing the scene with Dean as the cause of such actions...

At that point, he ran. He sped out the door, down the stairs and through the common room, heart pounding. He skidded into the corridor and sped up, until he reached the top of the Gryffindor Tower's winding staircase.

Dean slid down one of castle's solid stone walls. He stared up at the curved ceiling. What. Fresh hell. Was that? Seamus had innocently taken a shower and he had, unjustifiably, gone mad. Dean carefully lifted the wall he had placed between him and his Seamus-related thoughts. Seamus kissed his lips, one hand curling around his neck as Dean bent down... He shoved in back down quickly, but the image continued replaying itself in the back of his mind. His breath caught in his throat as he imagined what it would be like...

What was happening to him? Dean was straight. He had thoroughly enjoyed kissing Ginny. Seamus, he thought with a pang, was also straight. Actually, this had never been proved, but Dean, as his best friend, was sure of it. Seamus was also his closest friend, practically his other half.

This wasn't solving anything. Dean leapt up and broke into a run again, pushed himself until his muscles burned almost as much as his heart. His thoughts, however, were still in front of him, startlingly clear.

Dean almost knocked over a thoroughly startled Argus Filch as he flew through the Entrance doors and out across the grounds, completely unaware that he was wearing nothing but his checked pajama bottoms. His mind once again began filling with images that even a Firebolt would have trouble escaping, images mostly involving different ways he could torment his best friend's lips until Seamus moaned Dean's name…

He couldn't keep running forever. Dean stopped in front of the Great Lake, his mind whirling.

One thing was clear and had to be accepted, he thought. Dean was in love with Seamus Finnegan. He knew this for three reasons. Firstly, because kissing him seemed like an excellent idea, despite being a very bad one. Secondly, because there was a monster in Dean's chest which sprung to life if Dean so much as thought about someone else kissing Seamus the way Dean wanted to. Thirdly, because Dean wanted to protect Seamus from the inevitable hurt of either of the first two things happening. On top of these reasons, Seamus was his best friend. Each knew the other better than anyone else could.

In accordance with the third reason, Dean realised, Seamus must never know his new secret. Seamus would never fancy him back, so it would damage their friendship beyond repair if the Irishman knew the truth. As much as the idea pained him, it was a better pain than not having the Seamus at all. As the Giant Squid raised its tentacles in the dawn light, Dean Thomas made a resolution. Seamus Finnegan would never see how he really felt. Dean would watch him, laugh with him and protect him, as he always had. They would never kiss or be together the way Dean wanted. They would spend their lives as friends, and only that. Seamus must never know.

The boy in question, however, had other plans.

A/N: Review, review and also review! Did I mention review? Because you should. Review, that is.

-AsYetNameless