Forum Block
Stacked With: MC4A (Shipping War; NC; StL; ToS; BAON; FPC; RoB; ER; HoSE; FR; Summer Bingo); Hogwarts
Individual Challenges: Short Jog (Y); Advice from the Mug; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux; Gryffindor MC (x4); Ethnic & Present; Mastermind MC; Hitter MC; Cuppa; Rian-Russo Inversion (Y); Flags & Ribbons [x2] (Y x1); Tissue Warning; Old Shoes (Y); Times to Come (Y); Time Gaps (Y); Two Cakes! (Y); Themes & Things A (Y); Themes & Things B (Y); Themes & Things C (Y); Trope It Up C (Y); Location, Location, Location; It's the End of the World (Y)
Representations: Seamus Finnegan/Dean Thomas; Field Agent Seamus; Apocalypse; Soulmates
Bonus Challenges: Second Verse (Middle Name; Found Family; Nontraditional; Ladylike; Not a Lamp; White Dress); In the Trench; Surprise!
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: HoSE (Keen)
Prompt: Agricultural Science Task 4: Write about someone or something destructive (Hogwarts); 1B [Orange] (Bingo)
Word count: 1,724
Warnings: Character death
The world had gone up in flames only a few years after the Battle of Hogwarts and Voldemort's defeat. Everyone had thought they'd be safe, that there would be no more horror for some time because the nightmare that had stalked their lives had finally been vanquished. Then there had been a wave of magic pouring out of the small village of Mould-on-the-Wold and everything had turned into chaos.
Unspeakables had been dispatched to the village to discover the cause. Only two of the sixteen that had been sent returned—of those two, only one had lived through the night. She had reported a nexus of magic located at the old Dumbledore homestead. It held the magical signature and intent of Albus Dumbledore—this was planned magic. The respected Headmaster Dumbledore had created a world-ending spell before he died and now it had activated.
Seamus was out there now, fighting the bubbles floating over the world that constantly threatened to pop and release the deadly toxins held within them. Seamus' talent with setting things alight had made him highly desirable for the task of watching the bubbles and burning the toxins if they were released—thankfully fire was an effective weapon against them.
The small image of him grinned up at Dean from a picture, waving joyfully before being swung around in a hug by the Dean in the picture. The Dean who had left behind the carefree days of Hogwarts long behind sighed heavily and slipped the image into his left pocket. He missed Seamus. Every day was full of worry and praying that Seamus was still alive out there.
Communication had broken down a few months after the magic explosion. The air was too dangerous for owls and the wix out in the field and behind the lines didn't often have the magic left to produce a Patronus or similar communication. Even coins similar to the ones Hermione had created for the DA—and how Dean hated that name now that he had more insight to the type of person Dumbledore had been—required magical energy that was needed somewhere else. Team leaders had them, but there weren't enough to go out to every wix.
Dean looked over the same grounds he had just seen in his picture. Hogwarts was, perhaps unsurprisingly, the only safe place from the toxic air. Dumbledore had planned this well. He would have been able to give shelter to those who needed it and they would have been too grateful to question why he was able to defend against the toxins so effectively when no one else seemed able to. It would have solidified his reputation as a powerful wizard and a saviour.
The grounds had changed dramatically. There were tents everywhere—all of them larger on the inside. Fire pits were dotted around, used for warmth, boiling water, and occasionally cooking. The house elves of Hogwarts popped up randomly—either with food or to provide aid in whatever way they could. Hogwarts wasn't a school anymore.
Dean turned and exited the Headmaster's Office where he had been interrogating Dumbledore's portrait for information—the old man mainly twinkling his painted eyes and looking rather pleased with himself even though he wasn't there to play saviour. It was time to share what little information he'd been able to squeeze out of the portrait with the rest of his team and then have dinner before falling into a restless sleep.
Dean woke up by falling. There were shouts all around him and the air was shimmering with heat and deadly toxins. Dean stared up at the sky uncomprehending for a few seconds before realising what must have happened. Time had stopped meaning anything ages ago, he hadn't realised the day he would swap bodies with Seamus was so close.
"Seamus! Get back up, we need you!" called a voice Dean recognised as Padma Patil.
He scrambled to his feet and tried to get his bearings. An almost invisible trail of toxins was falling down right above Padma and he quickly shot out a stream of fire at it. Padma gave him a thankful nod as she continued dealing with the large bubble that was hovering right above the town they were in.
Pansy, Blaise, Dennis, and Parvati were spread out through the town, each of them in their own pairs of two and fighting back the toxins. Dean was swept up in the situation, jumping from crisis to crisis and somehow averting them all. He didn't have time to be relieved that Seamus was still alive or that he was safely ensconced at Hogwarts at the moment and hopefully getting some rest. All he could think about was stopping the toxins and staying alive himself while also watching out for Padma.
Seamus went from aiming at the cloud of toxins falling directly at his partner to rolling off the top bunk of a bunk bed. He landed with a thud and groaned softly. A whispered spell lit up the end of the lower bunk's occupant's wand.
"Dean?" Neville asked.
"Seamus," Seamus corrected. "Soulmate day."
Neville sat up and swung his legs off his bunk. "You okay? Is everyone else okay?"
"Yeah, we're all still alive." Seamus was finding the floor of the tent quite comfortable and was considering just staying there for the night.
"You want some tea?" Neville offered and Seamus considered it. He hadn't had a proper cup of tea in ages. Finally he nodded an affirmative and then started the long process of getting off the extremely comfortable carpeted floor as Neville went into the small attached kitchen and put the kettle on to boil.
The drink was heavenly when Seamus finally dragged himself up off the floor and Neville handed it to him. He didn't have to scull it down, for one; he could take his time and savour the aroma, flavour, and feelings that it brought. After that, he climbed up the small ladder into Dean's bunk and curled up in the blankets.
If the carpet had been comfortable, the bunk was like a cloud. Seamus didn't know if that was a good thing or not. It was strange being on a mattress and knowing he could sleep without fear. But Dean's body was used to the softness and Seamus' exhaustion made it an easy thing to drop off to sleep.
Seamus stared out across the Black Lake and wondered what was happening with his team and Dean. He'd reported all he could to Penelope, and she had thanked him profusely for the intel. Soulmate days were one of the sure-fire ways information could be passed to different groups and information was one of their most valuable resources.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and felt a piece of paper in the left one. Curious, he pulled it out and smiled softly when he saw the picture of him and Dean enjoying themselves on these very grounds. He had the same picture tucked in a pouch that hung around his neck. He wondered if Dean was looking at it now.
The orange sky above him made his fingers twitch for his wand. He knew he didn't need it though; the toxins didn't enter the grounds of Hogwarts. Dumbledore hadn't extended that protection to Hogsmeade—probably would have made the excuse that such a large area would have been taxing on even his abilities and magic.
Seamus could see the tell-tale shimmer of bubbles hovering just beyond the wards and he itched to go out there. But that would be idiotic. He didn't have his team with him, he didn't even have his own body and he wasn't going to send Dean out on a suicide mission even if he was in control. He knew that a home base team would soon be dispatched to deal with the bubbles, so he forced himself to take the opportunity to relax a little.
Seamus woke up to the sounds of someone shuffling around in the near darkness. He almost rolled over and went back to sleep before realising that he was still lying on a mattress that felt like a cloud. His eyes snapped open and he sat up quickly. Neville looked up and smiled at him.
"Hey Dean," he greeted.
Seamus stared at him in horror. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to articulate what was wrong. Neville's smile faded as he watched Seamus. He shrugged on a jumper and stepped up the first rung of the bunk ladder.
"Dean? You okay?"
"Not—Not Dean," Seamus choked out.
Neville's face paled. "Seamus? You're still…"
Seamus nodded, feeling faint. While he had been relaxing and enjoying the rare break in fighting, Dean had died in his place. Dean hadn't been fast enough to avoid an explosion of toxins or had been caught in a collapsing building the toxins had eroded the foundations of, or something else entirely. It didn't matter how. Dean was dead.
His eyes caught his reflection in the mirror Neville had been using to shave and abandoned when Seamus woke. Dean's face looked back at him, horror-stricken and pale despite Dean's darker skin tone.
Neville finished climbing the ladder and sat next to Seamus, pulling him into his arms. They would have to tell Penelope and the others, but that could wait for now. Seamus curled into Neville and felt sobs wrack his body as he felt the crushing guilt and sorrow overwhelm him. Neville just held him closer, rubbing his back as his own tears ran down his face.
Outside, the sun rose and turned the sky its normal orange colour. The creatures safe inside the wards of Hogwarts woke up and started filling the grounds with noise. The tent occupants stirred and started their days, each wondering when it would be safe to venture out into the world again.
Further outside, beyond the wards, the magic cast by Albus Dumbledore continued on its way, ravaging everything it came across unless stopped by one of the teams chasing it. One such team held a brief vigil over two of their own before lighting the hurriedly constructed funeral pyres—Padma Patil and Dean Thomas would be sorely missed, but they would not die in vain. The flames from their pyres would fight the toxins as they had done while they lived.
