Disclaimer: I don't own Seamus, Dean, Neville (or his snores), or the Order of the Phoenix. Those all belong to JK Rowling. I do own Abbey, and Edward. They came from my own twisted imagination.
Author's Note: This story is just a little one chapter thing to show how Harry affected everyone's lives. This is meant to stand alone and does not reflect anything that JK Rowling might have thought. I just thought it would be a good story (though a bit sad and depressing). Review if you want.
Seamus lay in bed, desperately trying to keep the horrible memories from his mind. He tried to hold on to something, anything, that would keep the past at bay. He concentrated on his roommates' snores, willing himself not to relive it again. But as he lay there in the dark Neville's snores transformed into muffled screams, and he was there again. Once again sucked into the all consuming memory.
All around him the room looked fine but outside there was screaming, cries of anguish. From his place by the window, seven year old Seamus Finnigan could see black cloaked men coming into the building.
"Come away from that window, child. They'll see you."
"Who'll see me, Granma? Who are those men in black?" the young boy asked.
"Never you mind about them. You just do what Granma says and you'll be fine," Granma told him.
The screams were getting louder now and Granma looked scared.
"Seamus honey, come here. Granma needs you to get in this cupboard, alright?"
"Why? I wanna go home. Where's mommy? I want my mommy," the child bawled.
"There, there, dear. Mommy's fine. She's at work, remember?" Granma was rushing now. "Quickly, Seamus get in the cupboard. And no matter what you hear, don't make a sound and don't come out of the cupboard. Okay, honey?"
Seamus nodded from inside the cupboard. Granma smiled and shut the door. Through a crack in it, Seamus could still see his grandmother. There was a loud bang and the black cloaked men came in, accompanied by a putrid stench. Seamus later learned it was the smell of burning flesh.
His grandmother spun around to face them. One of the figures stepped forward. He was obviously the leader of the group.
"There you are. Good little hider, aren't you? Are you going to tell us, Abbey? Or are we going to have to make you tell?" the man asked condescendingly.
"I'll join my husband in the grave before I tell anything to the likes of you, Edward McAuley," Abbey Finnigan declared.
"Oh dear." Edward faked concern. "I expected more co-operation from you Abigail Finnigan. But if you want it the hard way"
Edward shrugged his shoulders and two more men jumped forwards. They grabbed her arms. Seamus wished he could see their faces but they were hidden by the hoods of their cloaks and their masks.
The men holding Abbey began to twist her arms behind her back. Seamus could see his grandma's eyes fill with tears, as her arms went up and back farther and farther. At a nod from Edward one man took Abbey's wrist in both hands and in one swift movement broke it. Seamus could hear the bones cracking and he could see his grandmother bite her lip to hold back a scream. Neither of them made a sound.
Edward held up his hand. The men slightly loosened their grip and let Abbey's arms down a little. Edward walked right up to Abbey, so they were almost face to face.
"Where's the boy? We know you know. We know you are part of the Order of the Phoenix. Tell us where Harry Potter is and this will all be over," Edward said forcefully.
Abbey spat in his face.
"I'll never tell. I'll take it to my grave," she hissed.
"Fool. If you won't tell I'll just have to kill you the hard way," Edward said calmly.
He withdrew a long, sharp knife from his cloak. He passed it in front of her face once, so she could see it. Then, quick as lightning, he jabbed it into her abdomen and tore sideways.
The blood was everywhere, gushing, pouring. The stab had not been meant to kill her immediately but that was what he wanted. Edward wanted Abbey to squirm, to feel the life flow out of her and onto the floor, to die after excruciating pain. She would eventually die but not right away. First she would live in pain.
Abbey's eyes opened wide when the knife entered her flesh. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, as she gasped for air. Not one sound did she make. Seamus was scared but followed Abbey's example and stayed silent as well.
"She's no use to us now. We must leave."
The group of Death Eaters followed their leader out the door, leaving the poor old woman slumped on the floor in her own blood.
"Seamus," her grandmother whispered, "Stay there. Don't move."
Seamus fought all his urges to run out to his grandmother and stayed where he was. That was how the rescue team found them. An old woman lying in her own blood and a small boy sobbing quietly in the cupboard.
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In the morning his best friend Dean pulled back the curtains and found him crouched in the corner of the four poster, with his knees tucked up to his chest, crying and rocking back and forth in his sleep. He'd found Seamus like this before. Trapped in echoes from the past.