Seamus grumbled as he sipped the headache potion at the breakfast table. His mother had planned for him to work around the yard, but he managed to get out of it by playing sick. What he didn't tell them was that his headache is the result of a hangover; she might actually kill him if she suspected he was turning into his stepfather.

He had a good reason for drinking, a reason that was right before his eyes, in bold print on the front of the Daily Prophet. They found a way to spin the Muggleborn Registration Act and make it sound like a good thing, but Seamus knew better. Only an idiot would deny what was happening around them.

He wished he could be one of those idiots. Maybe sticking his head in the sand would be easier, more peaceful. But it wasn't an option, not after his visit from Dean the night before.

.

Dean never showed up unannounced, especially not at midnight. That was the first clue that something was wrong. Still, Seamus smiled and tried to pretend like maybe things were okay, like there weren't red flags all around him.

"Nice hat," he said, nodding at the familiar West Ham logo emblazoned on the hat.

His boyfriend didn't smile at that. He absently touched his fingers to the bill. "You've heard the rumors, haven't you?" he asked.

Seamus swallowed dryly. Everyone had heard the rumors. The Ministry fell and was infiltrated by dark witches and wizards. The world was upside down, and everything was falling apart. His mother wore her fake smile and tried her best to tell him it was just silly whispers, nothing to be afraid of. Seamus wasn't so sure anymore.

"Got a letter," Dean added. "They want me to come in and register myself as a Muggleborn."

Seamus flinched. This isn't right. Muggleborns were part of the magical community; it was just the way it was, and it was only ever a problem for people with their ridiculous blood purity ideology.

"You aren't going, are you?"

Dean shook his head. For several moments, silence hung between the two of them. Dean sighed and slumped forward, resting his head against Seamus' shoulder. "I'm running."

"Running where?"

"I don't know. All I know is there's no plan B. I have to do this."

"Stay here. I can hide you," Seamus offered.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how hopeless it was. Even if he hid Dean for the summer, he still had to go to Hogwarts. His parents adored Dean, but they would never hide him.

"You're sweet."

Seamus closed his eyes and punched the bridge of his nose. Desperation clawed at his insides. He didn't want to be separated from Dean. There had to be another way.

"Take me with you," Seamus said. "We would be better together."

"I know. But you have to stay here. Hogwarts needs you."

Seamus snorts, smoothing his hand over his navy pajama bottoms. Hogwarts needed someone like Harry Potter. There wasn't anything special about Seamus. He wasn't a leader.

"I want to come with you."

Dean looked like he was about to argue. Instead, he leaned in, catching Seamus' lips in a quick kiss. "That's why I had to see you," he said. "I wanted to say goodbye and I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I've… I've got to go."

Seamus wanted to stop him, but Dean turned so suddenly, walking at a quick pace. Seamus was sure he could catch up with him easily enough, but he couldn't bring himself to move. Tears pricked his eyes. A war was going on, and wars had casualties. For all he knew, this would be the last time he saw Dean again.

Helpless and afraid, he headed back inside. He needed a drink.

.

Seamus stared at the headline, stomach acid burning his insides. There was no doubt in his mind that the rumors were true. The bastard Voldemort had taken over, and now Dean and those like him were in danger.

He didn't know what he could do. At the end of the day, he was still just a kid. No one would listen to him, and he couldn't really make a big difference.

But he would fight. Maybe he was young and couldn't do much, but it didn't matter. They took away the boy he loved. He would make them pay.