The days seemed to fly past as quickly as a Golden Snitch at Seamus' house. A five minute walk from the Finnigans' garden took Dean and Seamus to a quiet meadow where they practiced Quidditch, held broom races, and talked for hours at a time, catching up on the events of their summer holidays and discussing the upcoming Quidditch World Cup Final. In the evenings, Ash Finnigan would somehow manage to cook delicious meals while still running the shop - but when it closed for the night they would play Exploding Snap (which Seamus was very good at), Wizard's chess or Gobstones. Dean found life at the little Irish shop so different to the manic chaos he so often experienced at his suburban home in the north of England. As Seamus continued to count down the days to the Cup Final with mounting excitement, Dean found himself wishing that he could slow down time and remain in this peaceful lifestyle for just a few more days.

"I can't believe it. We leave for the Quidditch World Cup Final tomorrow night!" Seamus repeated for what seemed like - and probably was - the hundredth time that day, as he and Dean got into their beds. Ash had made up a bed for Dean on Seamus' floor, putting a charm on the floorboards to make them soft and springy like a mattress. It was still fairly uncomfortable, but Dean was enjoying his time at Dean's so much he barely noticed and definitely didn't complain.

"I know, Shay... you mentioned it a couple of times..." Dean smirked as he could almost hear his friend pulling a face in the darkness of the bedroom. "I'm excited too!"

"I actually get to see Aidan Lynch play, right in front of my face! What if he talks to me?!"

"You'll have a conversation, I suppose?"

"I could get his autograph! What if I can't think of anything to say and he thinks I'm an idiot? Don't you dare say that I always have something to say, or that I am an idiot so he would get an accurate impression of me, Dean, I can hear those words brewing in your mind and I do not want to hear them. I am having a crisis!"

Dean grinned. This was one of Dean's favourite things about being with Seamus; they had spent so much time together that they often knew what the other was going to say. Sometimes he thought that they didn't need to talk at all, as they could converse perfectly well inside Dean's head. "You've stolen all my witty responses so I will have to say something serious and heartwarming now. You're just nervous! Once he sees you in that bright green outfit you've got planned for the day, he will see that you are a massive fan of the team and respect you for it."

"Aw, thanks Dean."

"Either that or he'll think you've just been sprayed with Stinksap by a Mimbulus Mimbletonia..." As a retaliation to this, Seamus rolled off his bed on top of Dean and started tickling him, until Mrs Finnigan shouted that if they didn't shut up and go to sleep that second, she wouldn't let them go to the Cup Final.


By half past seven the following night, everything was packed for the big trip. Piles of Irish green luggage had been stuffed into backpacks with Undetectable Extension Charms. The tent they were to sleep in, carried in a small dirty-grey bag, had the interior of a country cottage, Seamus had explained. Dean wasn't sure if this was a joke or truthful - the magical world always surprised him. After they had done a final check of Seamus' room to ensure they had packed everything - "mum won't let us come back for anything," Seamus had said - they came downstairs to find Mrs Finnigan looking slightly harassed with three broomsticks under her arm.

"The Portkey is leaving later than planned. Some issue with teenage muggles and a party in a nearby field - could they not work around that? Why wasn't it spotted before tonight, the very night we leave? We have to give the party animals time to have either gone home or passed out drunk before we can go near the Portkey's field - it may be 6 in the morning before we catch it, then we have to find our camping spot -"

"Calm down, mum, you worry too much. We don't need to rush on the flight now, we can have a nice relaxed journey. I've got the sandwiches, by the way. Where shall I pack them?" Seamus waved a paper bag in the in the air.

"Son of a banshee, I nearly forgot about those! Put them in that bag there, thanks Shay dear." She gestured to the bag nearest the door then gave Seamus a forceful peck on the cheek. He wriggled away, turning pink as he noticed Dean looking.

"What's a Portkey?" Dean asked, mostly to change the subject for Seamus' sake.

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know. I'm so sorry Dean, I always forget. We will explain on the way, we have to get going. We will be travelling to just outside of Dublin by broom. It's a fair few miles, but I can't Apparate with the both of you. Then we catch the Portkey to the camping site near the stadium. Any questions? Good. Let's go." Dean had several questions about this route plan, but Ash had spoken so fast he didn't have time to ask. The bags were distributed - which turned out to be much heavier than they looked - and Dean took his broomstick.

"I'm putting Disillusionment Charms on all of us. There's strict Ministry guidelines about the travel arrangements and one of them is that the few allowed to arrive by broom must be concealed as much as possible, and travel under cover of darkness."

As she said this, she pointed her wand at Dean, Seamus, and herself in turn. She saw Seamus' arms and legs rippling, as if paint the exact colour of the wall behind him was being poured over his limbs. Dean himself was experiencing an odd tingling feeling, and looking down, he saw that he looked identical to his surroundings, like a chameleon.

Stepping outside into the dusky evening, Ash handed out one last piece of equipment before they left - what looked like motorcycling goggles, which enabled them to see through each other's Disillusionment Charms and to see clearly in the dark. Dean felt a little relived at this, as he was by no means an expert flyer and didn't want to be responsible for a broomstick crash with a building or worse, one of the others.

Once their goggles had been pulled over their eyes and their brooms had been mounted, they set off for the Quidditch World Cup Final.


Notes:

Thank you for the kind reviews, favouritings and follows that I've had! I've only just begun this story and I'm glad you all enjoy the characters of Dean and Seamus as much as I do. I hope you all continue to enjoy the story!

"Son of a banshee" is a phrase from the Youtube video "Wizard Swears", a Potter Puppet Pals creation. I thought it fitted nicely here, so thank you to the creators of that video! If you haven't seen any Potter Puppet Pals, I suggest you watch immediately, all the videos are hillarious.