has it been a million years since i updated? yes. but in my defense, i sorta abandoned this to update whenever i felt like it since i didn't really have a lot of people waiting on bated breath or anything! recently, people have taken more interest so i hope to finish this within the next two weeks or so! much love, dana xx

It was lonely company on the run. For the first week and a half, Dean had been too depressed to move, to eat, to do anything but think. Voldemort was at large now, that he knew. What he didn't know is for how long. Was this what the rest of his life would look like? Moving from place to place in a feeble attempt to avoid death? Well, that was a kind of death as well.

In the third week, Ted - Tonks' dad - was starting to get through to him. He was sad, too, Dean could tell. But he didn't stop trying, with his feeble jokes and warm smiles. Ted had kind eyes, just like Seamus. Dean started to warm up to it in the end. He almost felt bad for not even trying to talk to Ted. They only had each other's company out here, and it was going to have to be a lifeline. Dean couldn't talk to Seamus anymore. And though he could tell Ted missed his wife and Tonks, maybe it was the father in him that tried to help Dean.

And then, a month had passed, and Dean was left simultaneously wondering how it had been that long and how it had only been that long. But time didn't stop for anyone, and it certainly didn't stop for Dean. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagining he was off hiking somewhere, and that he would come home to Seamus and tell him all about it. But that wasn't what happened.

It was storming the night he met Dirk Cresswell. They'd run into some bad weather before, but nothing like this. There was no magic that could protect them from the winds. And when lightning split the tree in front of them, it was only Ted pulling him out of harm's way that kept him from being pinned under it. The rain was so fierce Dean could hardly see, and because of this, he ran smack into someone.

Instantly this person had their foot on Dean's chest and a wand pointed down. He tried to call out for Ted, but it was too loud for his voice to be heard. The rain was assaulting his face, coming down as hard as blows. For a wild, irrational moment, Dean was convinced that it was going to wash him away into the ground, until his skin was mixed in with the dirt. He shut his eyes tight.

When he felt the weight being knocked off of him. Looking up, he could just make out Ted wrestling with a man on the ground, pinning his shoulders down. Dean was so relieved, he started to laugh. The two men stopped for a second and looked at each other.

"Dirk? Is that you?" And then, right before Dean's eyes, Ted got up and extended an arm. Once Dirk was on his feet, the two men engaged in a tight embrace. They started running directly after, the storm picking up with twice the ferocity, but Dean found out later that Dirk was Ted's old co-worker.

"Never liked him all that much, to be honest, but just seeing a friendly face…" And then he smiled in an absent-minded way, as Ted was apt to do. And so their band of two became three.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

By sheer chance, they'd lucked out enough not to run into any death eaters that entire first month. The same couldn't be said for the next month. Almost every four days, they would hear wand blasts and screams just when they thought they were in the middle of nowhere. The first time, Dirk curled up and put his hands over his ears before Dean pulled him to his feet and dragged him along.

Dean thought he felt war's breath breathing down his neck before, even before he went on the run. But it started to settle in that he was listening to people dying. There was still a large part of it that felt so far away, but even he couldn't deny the immediacy any longer.

And then, Dean fell ill. He didn't remember much of that week, and it wasn't until after did he realize just how close he came. But when he was recovering, he remembered lying in some sort of makeshift tent, and he remembered Ted's face more distressed than he'd ever seen it. From all that week, his only full memory was of Ted's hand on his face and his watery voice saying, "You're only a boy."

And weeks later, when everything was quiet and solitary, Dean tried not to think about that too much. He was only a kid, but he didn't feel that way, not after everything that had happened. But he tried not to dwell on how unfair it was, because he feared that once he went down that road, there might be no coming back. Still, though, it was enticing to imagine a world where he and Seamus had gotten to be kids just a little bit longer.

He'd find himself thinking, We might have been at a quidditch game right now, or I'd be lending Seamus my notes for Potions and we'd be sitting by the fire in the common room, and Neville would have snuck us some treats from the kitchen right now.

And he'd worry about Seamus, more than was probably healthy. Hogwarts was safer than where Dean was, but not by much, and he knew that. If there was only a way to talk to Seamus, Dean guessed the whole thing would be much easier, but that wasn't possible. Dwelling on things would never get him anywhere, and so he carried on.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Then came the fire. Dean never found out if it was death eaters or a flame carried by the wind, but it spread quickly throughout the forest. For a moment, it seemed there was no way out. But Ted, always the leader, grabbed Dirk and held him close, and then took Dean's hand and apparated them to another place to rest, a wet cave somewhere. In the morning, he apparated them back to try and salvage whatever they could. That's when they found Griphook and Gornuk.

Gornuk had been badly burned and Griphook was tending to his wounds. They could hear the screams from halfway across the wood. Now, Dean had never liked goblins. They were always cold to wizards and they were constantly suspicious. But when you see people in need, people of any kind, you help them. Harry had helped teach him that.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-

And so, for a while, they travelled in a group of five. In hindsight, this wasn't the best idea, and no, these people weren't the strongest fit. Dirk, smart though he was, couldn't help but express his disbelief in Harry Potter. Dean realized he must seem very abstract to people who didn't share a room with him for the past six years, but nonetheless, at times like these, won't you take every bit of hope you can get?

Griphook and Gornuk were always talking in Gobbledegook with each other, and only using English for the necessary communication.

But the more people there were, the less the loneliness sunk into his heart. But he knew, no matter how he wanted to ignore the fact, that aside from Ted, all his real friends were miles and miles and miles away.

Sometimes, though, when Ted and Dirk and the goblins had already nodded off to sleep, right in the place between awake and dreaming, Dean could swear Seamus' lips were just inches from his, just like that first night back, and if he could just close the gap...