I got my Ipod. I put it on shuffle. I gave myself five minutes to write the first idea that came to my head. And this is what I got.
Give these guys a chance, because they're pretty damn special.
(It's Deamus)
I
Pu hatta fjukalatur I loft
Pu regnhlif snu a hvolf allt of oft
O nei, ekki, o
{English translation}
You make hats fly into the air
You turn umbrellas inside out too often
Oh no, don't, oh.
-Sigur Ros
Gobbledigook
Seamus grabbed a fistful of snow, rolling it between his fingers discreetly as Dean Thomas drew. It was a lazy, freezing Saturday in Hogsmeade, with snow trickling from the sky.
"Shay-" Dean murmured, looking up. Seamus hurled the snowball towards Dean, which took a blow to his face. Dean coughed the ice out of his mouth, glaring at Seamus.
Seamus fell to the ground, howling with laughter. "You git!" Dean screeched, dropping his sketch book. He jumped up, sprinting for his best friend and lunging for him.
"Geoffameh!" Seamus yelled, pushing on Dean, who was sitting on him.
Dean grinned, shifting as Seamus yelped. "I bet its cold there, with all that freezing snow-"
"DEAN!"
"Alright, alright," the tall, dark-skinned boy sighed, getting to his feet. Seamus made a dive for him, but missed as his friend dodged him neatly. Dean felt the breeze whip at his head, and saw that his beanie had fallen off. People trampled over it carelessly.
"My hat!" Dean growled, glaring at Seamus as he raced for his missing possession. The beanie was picked up in the gust, and drifted higher above their heads. The two boys jumped for it, stretching and leaping until they fell over each other.
A huddled heap on the ground, the two boys laughed light-heartedly, their bodies entangled.
II
Tell me when you hear my heart stop
There's a possibility I wouldn't know.
-Lykke Li
Possibilty
Dean angrily tore open his draws, hurling his belongings across the room angrily. Tears blurred his eyes, making him even more furious. It just wasn't fair.
Seamus watched him calmly, though his bright eyes were terrified. "Do yeh really have to go?"
"Yes," Dean replied, his voice dripping with acid.
"Yeh could stay-"
"They'll kill me Seamus. They'll kill my whole bloody family, they'll kill you. They'll kill anyone who wants to be around me, you know they will."
Dean shoved everything into his trunk, compressing his clothes until they were firmly flattened at the bottom. His body was shaking, his head too messed up now for him to understand anything. He just knew one word . . . One dangerous, yet blissful word . . .
Escape. He had to escape.
Seamus looked away, his throat thick. "Dean-"
"Not now, Seamus! Don't you get it? They're hunting me down!" Dean shouted, exasperated. "I'm going to die, Shay, I'm going to die," he sobbed.
Seamus shook his head, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. There was a long pause while both boys were lost in deep thought. Dean was so reluctant; he just didn't want to leave. He'd miss all his friends, he'd miss staying up late with the guys in his dorm – Heck, he might even grow to miss his homework after a while.
And Seamus. He'd definitely miss Seamus.
"Are yeh absolutely sure- Is there any way-"
"No, Shay. There isn't another choice. This is it."
III
What went down from this fooling around
Gave hope and a brand new day.
-The Ting Tings
Great DJ
Seamus grinned across the room, watching Dean dance to the music. The Yule Ball had been alright, so far, but it was past midnight, and they'd be sending students back to bed soon. The thought made Seamus sad.
Dean let out a long sigh, joining Seamus. "Let's head off," he muttered, eyeing the Weird Sisters, who were packing their instruments away. The Irish boy groaned, trudging behind his friend tiredly.
"'S'not even that late," Seamus grumbled, heaving his body up the stairs. He had never noticed how many there were until tonight – it seemed like they had built more just to torture him.
"Fairy lights," Dean shouted at the Fat Lady, who was giggling to her friend Violet drunkenly.
"Ooh! Look at 'em, Vi, they're so small!" she grinned, her eyes unfocused. Seamus snorted at them as Dean pulled him through the common room entrance and dragged him up the stairs. "Well, they're bloody pissed," Seamus said, rather amused at the distant cackles they could still hear.
Seamus flopped onto his comfy bed as Dean pulled his shirt over his head. "And I- I- I- I wasn't done dancing, just yet," Dean muttered, stifling a yawn as he rummaged through his draws.
"Let's dance now, then!" Seamus said energetically, bounding over his sheets and smiling wide-eyed at Dean. The tall boy shot him an uncertain look. "Naw, come on, yeh're no fun!"
"Er-"
But it was too late. Seamus had already seized his best friend's hands, and dragged him around the room. Dean howled with laughter at their uncoordinated fashion as they pranced around the room. They stumbled over each others' feet and rammed into the bed frames every so often, but neither of them stopped smiling.
IV
I sleep in your old shirts and walk through this house in your shoes
I know it's strange, it's a strange way of saying that
I know I'm supposed to love you
- Fall Out Boy
G.I.N.A.S.F.S
Every day hurt. Most days were just blurs, just dull aches of pain and emptiness. But some days, Seamus had to wonder why he was even fighting anymore. Some days he wondered why the hell they didn't just kill him already.
All he wanted was to die, so he wouldn't have to do this anymore.
Every day, they taunted him. Every day, they pushed him further and further. Every day, he gave up just that little bit more.
But on those days, Seamus would look at the empty bed were Dean once lied, and he didn't give up.
Because some day, he was going to see Dean Thomas again.
V
I can't breathe without you
But I have to.
-Taylor Swift
Breathe
Dean's heart thudded unevenly. The war was ended, and it was a better world, but he didn't really care. In fact, Dean didn't care at all.
Where is he? He has to be here!
Dean circled the pile of bodies, his chest aching with every lost life. Fred Weasley? Fred Weasley was dead?
Where is he? He has to be here!
Dean took a deep breath, and studied those who were alive. They looked exhausted, tear-stained and broken, but at least they were here. Seamus Finnigan wasn't here.
Where is he? He has to be here!
"Dean!"
Where is he? He has to be here!
Dean whirled, feeling his insides return to him. Seamus stood in front of him, his hair dirty, his face ashen. His robes wear ripped and torn, and his skin was scratched and filthy. But he was alive.
"Oh, God, Seamus," Dean muttered, unable to move.
Seamus attacked him, tackling him in a bear hug. Dean didn't want to let go.
VI
What are you doing?
What you doing, what you doing to me?
What are you doing to my head?
-Lisa Mitchell
Clean White Love
"Seamus!" Dean growled, pressing himself against the wall as his best friend stumbled into the cupboard behind him. "You're going to get me in so much trouble!"
"Shh!" Seamus hissed, slapping his hand over Dean's mouth. "Mary, Jesus and Joseph, Dean! Do yeh want to get caught?"
They sat in silence then, Dean sending death stares to the Irish boy. Seamus merely grinned chirpily, though shifting uncomfortably every so often. "Do yeh think yeh could get yeh're foot outta me arse?"
"Stop complaining! You were the genius who thought it'd be funny to mix Snape's potions!" Dean snapped, shifting as well.
Seamus bit his lip. "Did yeh see him though? He looked like a clown."
Dean shook with laughter, remembering the image of Snape fuming, his hair blue and his nose bright red. "I can't breathe, you know!"
Seamus didn't move. "Ah, yeh like me body pressed up against yeh, don't pretend," he grinned cheekily.
"Shut up."
"Didn't deny it," Seamus whispered, waggling his eyebrows. Dean kicked his foot up, making Seamus yelp in pain.
"You-"
"The things you make me do, Seamus Finnigan" Dean sighed, shaking his head.
VII
She said, I got something I really wanna tell ya
I got something I really wanna show ya
I got something I really wanna do right now
-Say Hi
Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh
"Hey Dean?" Seamus asked one lazy afternoon. It was too hot to move, so while everyone else went outside and hung out by the lake, the two boys were utterly alone in the common room.
"Yeah, Shay?" Dean asked, balancing a pen on the tip of his nose.
"I-Er-"
"Spit it out, Finnigan," Dean muttered, his head swaying to level the pen.
"I got something to tell you."
"Go on."
"You know what, never mind."
"Seamus-"
"Er- Well-"
The pen rolled off Dean's nose, landing with a dull thud on the carpet. Dean looked up, slightly annoyed. Seamus ran a hand through his hair, wishing he had never said anything. Dean dragged himself by his hands over to where Seamus laid.
Seamus leant back at the sudden proximity, making this harder than it already was. Seamus turned hi s head slightly, right at the same time as Dean. Slowly, and unsurely, the two boys leant in, dizzy and having no idea what they were doing.
It was an awkward moment – not like kisses with Ginny, Dean thought. Kisses with Ginny were sweet and perfect, because that's what Ginny was like.
Seamus wasn't like that.
Their teeth clattered and their heads bumped, but neither of them would have had it any other way.
VIII
Far, far away, no voices sounding
No one around me
And you're still there
-The Black Ghosts
Full Moon
Dean held his hand. Maybe it was because they were friends, and maybe because they were everything more. Maybe because he loved him, maybe because he was scared for him. Seamus didn't care why, he just knew Dean did.
When Hogwarts was infiltrated, Dean held his hand.
When Dumbledore died, Dean held his hand.
When the school was taken over, Dean held his hand.
Just before he left, Dean held his hand.
As they watched the bodies being carried away after the war, Dean held his hand.
Seamus couldn't have cared less why Dean held his hand, he just knew Dean did. Dean was always there.
IX
When we first met, your hair was long and brown
You hadn't yet, cut it off
As I keep track of every haircut we have ever had
I can see how long it had been, oh
How long it had been
-Hellogoodbye
When We First Met
Seamus let out a low sigh, tugging his suitcase behind him. It was the beginning of the seventh year, their last of course. Soon enough, him and his best friend would be out in the real world, living.
If they didn't get killed first.
Okay, so, Seamus was a little bit pessimistic , but still. Everyone was in danger. Their world wasn't so magical anymore, just dark. Pitch black, in fact.
Seamus studied the brilliant, gigantic steam engine, with its sleek, scarlet paint and heavy smoke. The first time he'd stepped on this train, his robes had trailed behind him like the train of a wedding dress and he'd had no idea what his wand was supposed to do. Times changed, Seamus figured.
"Seamus!" A familiar voice yelled. Seamus whirled to find Dean, tall and lanky, grinning a stupid smile.
Seamus threw his arm around his best friend after a summer of separation. Dean choked as Seamus suffocated him. Once the Irish boy's grip loosened, though, Dean rested his head gently on his shoulder.
So what if that hug lasted maybe a few seconds too long?
So what if they didn't want to let go?
Dean pulled away, thanking the Lord for his dark skin. Otherwise, Seamus might have noticed his cheeks flaming pink.
"Er-"
"I, um- Like what you've done with your hair," Dean said slowly, noticing Seamus' shaggier-than-usual hair.
"Yeah, thanks," Seamus muttered, ducking onto the train without another word.
X
I'm disorderly and you'd be off better
Writing someone else your love letter
And of course I wanna know you better
But you know the way it goes
-Lisa Mitchell
Love Letter
"Drop it, Dean," Seamus growled, fanning himself with a sheet of paper. It was a hot and sticky day, one spent by the lake under the shade.
Dean blushed, though with the hot weather and his dark skin Seamus didn't notice. "All I'm saying is it was just a kiss."
"Exactly, so let it go."
"I- You- But-"
Seamus sat up, his eyes dark and intense. He didn't like breaching the subject of a kiss that meant nothing. Dean and him had been extremely tipsy, that was all, and it had meant nothing. They weren't thinking.
So why did the memory keep creeping back? Like it really did mean something?
"Dean, yeh're me best mate," he muttered, avoiding Dean's gaze.
Dean sighed, looking him straight in the eye. "Are you afraid of it? Are you in denial?"
Seamus growled, he didn't like this. He wasn't afraid of anything, being the great Irishman that he was. Irishmen were fierce and brave and- and- Straight. He'd learned that from his older brother, who'd certainly had his way with the ladies. His Ma'm would be so disappointed . . . His brother would call him a poof every day of his life. . . "I ain't afraid of nothin'."
"Then don't lie," Dean challenged quietly, his breathing rugged and low.
Seamus put his hands through his hair. "I don't feel that way. I never will."
"Well I-"
"Dean, write your fucking love letter to someone else. I'm- I'm just not."
Dean glared at his best friend's back as Seamus trudged away, knowing he had lied. But he wasn't going to do this- He wasn't going to be roped into believing what couldn't be true! He rams past Ettie Lancaster and Lailee Jones, feeling absolutely disgusted.
A/N: Aw, not quite the ending I wanted. Oh well.
Please Review, x.