Title: Deaths Dateless Night (see bottom)
Genre: Romantic tragedy
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Seamus remembers...
Warnings: M/M slash!
Disclaimer: Not owned by me *pouts* Owned by J.K. Rowling. See the bottom for the origination of the title.
~*~*~*~*~
One more day,
One more time,
One more sunset,
and I'd be satisfied.
But then again,
I know what it would do.
Leave me wishing still,
For one more day with you.
~*~*~*~*~
Seamus threw his arm over onto the empty side of
the bed, still half expecting to feel it drape over
the slender waist of his lover. The cold sheets that
touched his flesh, instead of warm, soft skin, was a
searing reminder of what he had lost and what he had
been so privileged to have.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
From day one at Hogwarts, Dean Thomas and Seamus
Finnigan had been inseparable. While some in their
situation would have flocked to Harry Potter to try to
gain his attention, they were content to be together.
Dean was the quieter one and Seamus was the fun
loving, "luck of the Irish" as he called it. It had
been in their fifth year when Dean had approached
Seamus, shocking him mightily, telling him of how his
love of him as a best friend had evolved into
something more. Ever since then, they had not only
been best friends, but lovers. Like two matching
puzzle pieces, they fit together perfectly. One was
not complete without the other.
Seamus had been thinking about these things one day in
their 6th year. He was lying in his four-poster bed,
which he shared with Dean, who was sleeping soundly,
slightly snoring. Seamus spooned up beside him and
laid his head on his shoulder, blowing hot air into
his face. Dean wrinkled his nose and slowly his eyes
squinted open to look at Seamus.
"Prat," he yawned, stretching his arms back giving
Seamus perfect access to tickle him. After they had
quit wrestling around, Seamus leaned down to whisper
in his ear.
"We have to go to breakfast," he told him almost
sorrowfully.
"I know," Dean responded grinding his hips against
Seamus's. The Irish boy groaned and then pushed back
and toppled off the bed.
"No you don't, Dean Thomas. Im not going to be late for
Divination again!" he told him pulling the sheets off
Deans legs. It was Dean's turn to groan, not out
of pleasure, but dislike.
"Oh fine, but only because you would rather spend time
trying to figure out what old tea lumps are trying to
tell you, then spend time with me," Dean told him with
mock grumpiness.
Seamus was about to reply when Dean suddenly started
coughing violently. It went on for about a minute and
finally Dean lowered his hand from his mouth, looking
slightly worried.
"Hey babe, you O.K.?" Seamus asked him rubbing his
back.
"Yea, yea I'm fine," Dean replied getting out of bed
to go get dressed. Seamus couldn't help but think that
Dean didn't sound too sure when he said it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Oh my god, that was the funniest thing I have ever
seen!" Ron Weasley exclaimed on their way back from
Divination. "Well maybe the time Malfoy was turned
into a ferret, but this is a close second!"
Harry Potter walked along beside him smiling in
satisfactory, not in the least bit worried. The whole
class was still giggling about what happened. That day
in Divination, they were studying the their own fates
by the stars. Professor Trewlaney had a miniature set
of the solar system, which she placed in front of all
the students in turn. When it was Harry's turn, she
waited until the planets moved into place and promptly
fainted on the spot.
Seamus laughed heartily at remembering the look on her
face before she hit the ground. "Crazy old loony," he
told Ron who nodded still smiling, "And Dean, how she
predicted your "up-coming death"?" Seamus chuckled
again, and Dean tried to laugh but it only came out in
a weak smile. Seamus didn't notice though because he
had turned to say something to Harry. Dean sighed. He
hoped she was a crazy old loony. If she wasn't...well,
he wouldn't think about that now.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Seamus glanced worriedly at Dean, who was only picking
at his breakfast. Dean seamed anxious about something
and wasn't speaking very much. The moment the owl post
came in, though, his eyes shot open and he looked as
though he wanted to jump into the air and grab his
owl. A brown tawny owl came soaring down to Dean and
alighted right in his scrambled eggs. Dean didn't
notice, but grabbed the note off his leg and tore it
open. He scanned the first part of the letter, reading
only little bits, but he stopped at the last
paragraph. Seamus watched his eyes get big in horror,
like his puppy had just gotten run over. He slowly
closed the letter and slipped it into his back pocket
standing up heading for the door, mouth still hanging
open.
"Hey!" Seamus called after him without getting a
response, "hey, wait up!" Seamus got up and sprinted
after his boyfriend, out of the great hall, down the
sloping lawn and to the edge of the great, black lake
that Dean was staring at vacantly.
"What's...the...matter?" Seamus puffed massaging his
side. Dean slowly removed the letter from his pocket,
handed it to Seamus, and plunked down onto the ground.
Seamus opened it and began to read it, noticing it
bore the St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and
Injuries crest on the front. Scanning the first
paragraph, as Dean had done, he came to a stop at the
last paragraph.
"We regret to inform you that the tumor on your
lung is not benign but virulent. Concerning the
whereabouts of this tumor, it cannot be removed,
rendering up helpless. Estimated life expectancy is
two weeks. Regretfully,
Dr. Rivers Aden, Head Mediwizard"
Seamus looked up from the letter at Dean then back
down at the words. He shut his eyes tightly trying to
block out what he had just read. "Dean," he whispered
hoarsely.
"Two weeks..." Dean responded. "I have two weeks to
live Seamus," he said looking up at the Irish boy with
a heartbreaking expression. Seamus shook his head
violently.
"No! Your not dying Dean, you can't be dying," he said
tearing up the letter and dropping down beside his
boyfriend. "You can't be dying, you can't be, I love
you.." he trailed off burying his head in Deans chest
both boys weeping for their hopes, their dreams, and
their fate.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The two weeks had passed much faster that Seamus had
hoped it would. Everything had to be done, tons of
Dean's family flew into see him. His parents wanted
him to come home, but he refused to leave Seamus. He
told them he wanted to die at Hogwarts, his favorite
place in the world. They respected that, and rented
out an apartment in Hogsmeade so they could come see
him every day. It had been three days passed the
allotted time given to Dean. He had become very thin
and listless, coughing up lots of blood, but always
trying to look happy.
His favorite times were with Seamus, who had been
trying to hold back his own feelings for Deans sake,
but he grew more apprehensive every day.
It was 2 o'clock in the morning when Dean was woken by
a sharp pain in his chest. He could feel his life
slowly trickling out of him, his eyes were shutting.
He mustered all his strength and turned his head
slightly to the right to look at Seamus. Seamus was
beautiful, lying there sleeping with his arms around
Dean. Seamus would be O.K. without him. He was strong.
Dean didn't need to touch his face or kiss him or tell
him he loved him. A look was enough. Closing his eyes,
contented, Dean died a happy man.
~*~*~*~*~*~
It had been a week since Dean's funeral and Seamus had
cried so much that he couldn't have cried one more tear
if he had wanted to. He had placed two enlarged puzzle
pieces on Dean's grave, one with a "D" on it and one
with an "S". All his friends had been supportive,
trying to cheer him up but to no avail.
Seamus ran his hand over the dent in the mattress where
it had conformed to Deans body. He closed his eyes and
tried to pretend that when he opened them again, the
space would be filled with his boyfriend. Of course it
wasn't, and Seamus felt that pang of loneliness again.
Seamus knew Dean couldn't come back forever, but if he
could have only had one more day, he would have been
more ready than he was. But Dean was smiling that
sweet smile, even in death. He knew he was happy,
somewhere.
Running his fingers through his hair, he tried to
figure out how to survive each day. A voice, almost a
breeze, trickled by his ear, and Seamus could have
sworn he heard Dean's voice telling him to, "Just
breathe." Seamus smiled.
And that's exactly how he did it. Breathing one day at
a time.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The title of this story was taken from Sonnet 30 written by William Shakespeare. Its really beautiful, so I'll share it with you!
"When to the sessions of sweet, silent thought;
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear times waste.
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night.
And weep afresh love's long since canceled woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanished sight.
Then can I grieve at grievances forgone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er,
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I pay new as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and all my sorrows end.
~ William Shakespeare"
Genre: Romantic tragedy
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Seamus remembers...
Warnings: M/M slash!
Disclaimer: Not owned by me *pouts* Owned by J.K. Rowling. See the bottom for the origination of the title.
~*~*~*~*~
One more day,
One more time,
One more sunset,
and I'd be satisfied.
But then again,
I know what it would do.
Leave me wishing still,
For one more day with you.
~*~*~*~*~
Seamus threw his arm over onto the empty side of
the bed, still half expecting to feel it drape over
the slender waist of his lover. The cold sheets that
touched his flesh, instead of warm, soft skin, was a
searing reminder of what he had lost and what he had
been so privileged to have.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
From day one at Hogwarts, Dean Thomas and Seamus
Finnigan had been inseparable. While some in their
situation would have flocked to Harry Potter to try to
gain his attention, they were content to be together.
Dean was the quieter one and Seamus was the fun
loving, "luck of the Irish" as he called it. It had
been in their fifth year when Dean had approached
Seamus, shocking him mightily, telling him of how his
love of him as a best friend had evolved into
something more. Ever since then, they had not only
been best friends, but lovers. Like two matching
puzzle pieces, they fit together perfectly. One was
not complete without the other.
Seamus had been thinking about these things one day in
their 6th year. He was lying in his four-poster bed,
which he shared with Dean, who was sleeping soundly,
slightly snoring. Seamus spooned up beside him and
laid his head on his shoulder, blowing hot air into
his face. Dean wrinkled his nose and slowly his eyes
squinted open to look at Seamus.
"Prat," he yawned, stretching his arms back giving
Seamus perfect access to tickle him. After they had
quit wrestling around, Seamus leaned down to whisper
in his ear.
"We have to go to breakfast," he told him almost
sorrowfully.
"I know," Dean responded grinding his hips against
Seamus's. The Irish boy groaned and then pushed back
and toppled off the bed.
"No you don't, Dean Thomas. Im not going to be late for
Divination again!" he told him pulling the sheets off
Deans legs. It was Dean's turn to groan, not out
of pleasure, but dislike.
"Oh fine, but only because you would rather spend time
trying to figure out what old tea lumps are trying to
tell you, then spend time with me," Dean told him with
mock grumpiness.
Seamus was about to reply when Dean suddenly started
coughing violently. It went on for about a minute and
finally Dean lowered his hand from his mouth, looking
slightly worried.
"Hey babe, you O.K.?" Seamus asked him rubbing his
back.
"Yea, yea I'm fine," Dean replied getting out of bed
to go get dressed. Seamus couldn't help but think that
Dean didn't sound too sure when he said it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Oh my god, that was the funniest thing I have ever
seen!" Ron Weasley exclaimed on their way back from
Divination. "Well maybe the time Malfoy was turned
into a ferret, but this is a close second!"
Harry Potter walked along beside him smiling in
satisfactory, not in the least bit worried. The whole
class was still giggling about what happened. That day
in Divination, they were studying the their own fates
by the stars. Professor Trewlaney had a miniature set
of the solar system, which she placed in front of all
the students in turn. When it was Harry's turn, she
waited until the planets moved into place and promptly
fainted on the spot.
Seamus laughed heartily at remembering the look on her
face before she hit the ground. "Crazy old loony," he
told Ron who nodded still smiling, "And Dean, how she
predicted your "up-coming death"?" Seamus chuckled
again, and Dean tried to laugh but it only came out in
a weak smile. Seamus didn't notice though because he
had turned to say something to Harry. Dean sighed. He
hoped she was a crazy old loony. If she wasn't...well,
he wouldn't think about that now.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Seamus glanced worriedly at Dean, who was only picking
at his breakfast. Dean seamed anxious about something
and wasn't speaking very much. The moment the owl post
came in, though, his eyes shot open and he looked as
though he wanted to jump into the air and grab his
owl. A brown tawny owl came soaring down to Dean and
alighted right in his scrambled eggs. Dean didn't
notice, but grabbed the note off his leg and tore it
open. He scanned the first part of the letter, reading
only little bits, but he stopped at the last
paragraph. Seamus watched his eyes get big in horror,
like his puppy had just gotten run over. He slowly
closed the letter and slipped it into his back pocket
standing up heading for the door, mouth still hanging
open.
"Hey!" Seamus called after him without getting a
response, "hey, wait up!" Seamus got up and sprinted
after his boyfriend, out of the great hall, down the
sloping lawn and to the edge of the great, black lake
that Dean was staring at vacantly.
"What's...the...matter?" Seamus puffed massaging his
side. Dean slowly removed the letter from his pocket,
handed it to Seamus, and plunked down onto the ground.
Seamus opened it and began to read it, noticing it
bore the St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and
Injuries crest on the front. Scanning the first
paragraph, as Dean had done, he came to a stop at the
last paragraph.
"We regret to inform you that the tumor on your
lung is not benign but virulent. Concerning the
whereabouts of this tumor, it cannot be removed,
rendering up helpless. Estimated life expectancy is
two weeks. Regretfully,
Dr. Rivers Aden, Head Mediwizard"
Seamus looked up from the letter at Dean then back
down at the words. He shut his eyes tightly trying to
block out what he had just read. "Dean," he whispered
hoarsely.
"Two weeks..." Dean responded. "I have two weeks to
live Seamus," he said looking up at the Irish boy with
a heartbreaking expression. Seamus shook his head
violently.
"No! Your not dying Dean, you can't be dying," he said
tearing up the letter and dropping down beside his
boyfriend. "You can't be dying, you can't be, I love
you.." he trailed off burying his head in Deans chest
both boys weeping for their hopes, their dreams, and
their fate.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The two weeks had passed much faster that Seamus had
hoped it would. Everything had to be done, tons of
Dean's family flew into see him. His parents wanted
him to come home, but he refused to leave Seamus. He
told them he wanted to die at Hogwarts, his favorite
place in the world. They respected that, and rented
out an apartment in Hogsmeade so they could come see
him every day. It had been three days passed the
allotted time given to Dean. He had become very thin
and listless, coughing up lots of blood, but always
trying to look happy.
His favorite times were with Seamus, who had been
trying to hold back his own feelings for Deans sake,
but he grew more apprehensive every day.
It was 2 o'clock in the morning when Dean was woken by
a sharp pain in his chest. He could feel his life
slowly trickling out of him, his eyes were shutting.
He mustered all his strength and turned his head
slightly to the right to look at Seamus. Seamus was
beautiful, lying there sleeping with his arms around
Dean. Seamus would be O.K. without him. He was strong.
Dean didn't need to touch his face or kiss him or tell
him he loved him. A look was enough. Closing his eyes,
contented, Dean died a happy man.
~*~*~*~*~*~
It had been a week since Dean's funeral and Seamus had
cried so much that he couldn't have cried one more tear
if he had wanted to. He had placed two enlarged puzzle
pieces on Dean's grave, one with a "D" on it and one
with an "S". All his friends had been supportive,
trying to cheer him up but to no avail.
Seamus ran his hand over the dent in the mattress where
it had conformed to Deans body. He closed his eyes and
tried to pretend that when he opened them again, the
space would be filled with his boyfriend. Of course it
wasn't, and Seamus felt that pang of loneliness again.
Seamus knew Dean couldn't come back forever, but if he
could have only had one more day, he would have been
more ready than he was. But Dean was smiling that
sweet smile, even in death. He knew he was happy,
somewhere.
Running his fingers through his hair, he tried to
figure out how to survive each day. A voice, almost a
breeze, trickled by his ear, and Seamus could have
sworn he heard Dean's voice telling him to, "Just
breathe." Seamus smiled.
And that's exactly how he did it. Breathing one day at
a time.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The title of this story was taken from Sonnet 30 written by William Shakespeare. Its really beautiful, so I'll share it with you!
"When to the sessions of sweet, silent thought;
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear times waste.
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night.
And weep afresh love's long since canceled woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanished sight.
Then can I grieve at grievances forgone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er,
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I pay new as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and all my sorrows end.
~ William Shakespeare"