The Things We Do When We're Alone
Disclaimer: Only the story line is mine. Damn.
Warnings: Slash, language, slight angst, maybe smut later since it is me writing after all
Length: I want to make this kind of long, we'll see.
Pairings: My lips are sealed
Genre: General, no real classification
Rating: M, in case, as always
Spoilers: This is pretty much my own version of the seventh book. So anything before that is fair game.
A/N: This isn't the same silly one-shot style I usual write in. I'm going for something a little different. I hope it doesn't come off as too soap operay. Also, I had another idea for the title; Too Much Bitter and Not Enough Sweet let me know which you like more.
Reviews: Please?
Without further ado….
The night could not be colder. The winds whip angrily outside the dorm windows and the moon, nearly full, casts a disapproving glare on anyone who dare walk out in the cold. Dean and Seamus both sit on a single bed in the seventh year boy's dormitory.
"We're not little kids anymore." Seamus says quietly. The two of them know that this may very well be the last time they ever see each other. It hurts to think about more then they can admit. "We can't just run to our parents and expect that to make it all better." He quickly grimaced and slid his tongue over his bottom lip in quick apology for the sleeping form of Neville in corner of the room, kept peaceful by the silencing charms placed earlier in the evening.
"We'll get through this." Dean attempted, but even the tone of his own voice seemed to leak disbelief and fear. The biggest battles were coming, and they were coming soon. " We don't know that Dean." Seamus whispered back. He had promised himself not to cry, but at the hands of premature loss and the sweeping consuming fear of what was to come, he found himself unable to stop his eyes from glassing over.
"For all I know Hogwarts could be attacked tonight, or worse, you could trip and fall on a broken bottle of butterbeer and hit your head on a sharp rock and bleed to death." Of all the ways to die in a war, Seamus would think of that one. But Dean couldn't even muster up a small smile. Times were too dangerous to get confident in your own survival.
"Professor Lupin should be here in just a few minutes." One of them said, for it could have been either the way they both spoke in monotone in attempts to cover up the crying sure to come. "I wish you didn't have to go." Seamus says, and aside from what he's talking of, it's clear that it's him by the rays of moonlight illuminating his face. "I wish you could stay and we could finish our school years together like normal kids, and we could play on the field and not do our homework and laugh and smile and just be happy, like, like o-old times" He choked up on his words, remembering back to their earlier years of Hogwarts when it was not so hard to be a little carefree, and run without shoes on your feet and weight on your shoulders.
"Seamus." Dean went to speak, but s sharp pain in his side cut him off. "What the devil?" Seamus asked, but Dean ignored the pain. " We belong together Mate," he said. "We will end up together." But Seamus shook his head.
"We don't know if we'll even survive this war." He responded. "Either of us." At this Dean gets up and walks over toward the trunk at the end of the bed. For the moment that he is gone, Seamus feels utterly alone inside the canopy bed with swaying empty curtains that keep no secrets in and no dangers out. Dean returns what feels like an eternity later. He is holding his sketchbook.
Seamus cocks his head to one side, wondering what Dean is doing with his sketchpad. "I want you," Dean began. "To keep it safe for me until I get back." There is an ominous if hanging in the air. If I get back. Seamus stares at him. This is Dean's prized possession. He never goes anywhere without it. "But you…" Seamus begins. He is at a loss for words. Dean cuts him off before the rambling begins. "I'll have no use for it on the road." He explains. "I know you'll take good care of it." Seamus cannot deny this, for the notebook is Dean and he has always taken good care of Dean."
There is a faint tapping on the window and they know that their time has come to an end. "I have to go." Dean says with an air of finality in his voice. "If the Death Eaters don't get me, the Ministry will. But I promise you, I'll come back." And he leans forward, without thinking or pausing, and places a lingering, stinging, wonder kiss onto his best friend's lips.
It feels like Seamus has been struck by lightening, but he cannot respond for Dean is already out of the canopy and boarding onto a broom with their old Professor. "Don't forget me Seamus." He whispers from out the window. " I certainly won't forget my best friend." And the two fly away, Professor Lupin looking worse for wear on the back of a broken broom, his robes dirty and his face gray. But as their silhouettes round the front of the nearly full moon, Seamus is not focusing on his old teacher. He is instead watching the retreating form of his best friend getting farther and farther away, and realizing quite quickly, that there couldn't be a worse time for him to be questioning himself.
He turns back to the bed and climbs next to the notebook. He flips to the first page with great care and sees himself staring back at him. It is in graphite, and Seamus is sitting on a rock looking at a small snitch in his hand. He wishes he were still that happy. Seamus closes the notebook. He will not waste his last ties to Dean all in a single night. He places the paper under his pillow and pulls the blankets closer to his body. There is a definite chill in the air and he huddles into himself for warmth, fetal position for comfort. He will not close the window, for he feels that with it open, he can at least pretend that Dean is coming back.
As he lay alone in his bed, knowing sleep with not come, he thinks. He thinks about the war, about his own self-awareness, about the people who needed to fight, and about how he has never before, felt quite so alone in the world.
A/N: There's certainly going to be more, I just have to write it. Drop a review and make the writer smile!