A/N: I have recently adopted two leopard geckos. Their names are Lucius Martius and Scipio Africanus. They rock some serious sockage, folks. Do y'all have any idea how COOL it is to watch them eat crickets? Geckos are most excellent. They truly are. You will hear much bragging about them for at least the rest of the summer in A/Ns. Possibly they may make appearances in Seamus and the Salvation Army. Provided of course that I get my arse in gear, crank up my muse and git writin' on that baby. Ah well. Enjoy!

MOO: #26

Pairing: Draco/Seamus

Dedication: For Paris, cos he hasn't gotten a dedication in ages. Yes, yes, I know there is no slashy goodness in this and I am very sorry but I am too tired to write such things. I will add something on Monday or possibly try to convince Paris to write you people a lovely boykissing scene. Frannkly, I cannot be arsed right now.

Disclaimer: Somewhere in the world, someone is making massive heaps of cash off this stuff. That lucky, lucky person is not me.

Warning: Mild slash, mild language.

Seamus ran blindly through the woods, trying to stay on one of the crisscrossing tracks. He tripped over a tree stump and went sprawling.

"Jesus, Mary and Moses," he swore. His side felt like something had stabbed him. Seamus yanked his wand out of the back pocket of his jeans.

"Lumos," he muttered. He checked. Yes, something had stabbed him. He'd just landed on a thorn bush. He set his teeth and pulled the stick out of his skin. Hopefully there weren't any thorns left behind.

"If Mum had just let me grab a shirt when she shoved me out the tent--!" he grumbled as he continued his trek.

Well, yes. Granted, Seamus had spent two minutes struggling into his jeans and there had been a massive group of Death Eaters moving in their general direction and so on, but still. The woman could at least have let him grab a shirt he could get into on the run. Now he was stuck out here with no idea where anyone else was, shirtless.

Ah well, he mused. Things could have been worse. He could have not had time to put anything on at all. That would really be unbearable.

Without warning, he tripped over something else and went sprawling for the second time in as many minutes. He would never get anywhere at this rate.

"Finnegan?" a voice above him asked. It sounded rather surprised.

"Yes," Seamus paused to spit out some nettles. "It's me. Who are you?"

"It's me," replied Draco as he gave Seamus a hand up. "What the hell are you doing here? Were you with Potter?"

"What? Did you see Harry? Why are you out here? Without your goons? I would've thought you'd be safe with that lot back there." Seamus jerked his head in the direction of the screams and columns of smoke and ash.

"I asked first," Draco snapped. "And yes, I just ran into Potter, Weasley and their pet Mud blood a few minutes ago."

"I was going to ask 'and why so civil', but never mind. I'm out here cos they were headed for our tent. Why are you out here?" Seamus repeated. "And why are we standing still?" he asked suddenly. He brushed himself off and resumed jogging with Draco beside him.

"I'm out here alone because I crossed a crowd and lost Greg and Vince. I can't find them."

Does Draco Malfoy actually sound nervous…? Scared, even? Ha!

"So why are you out here in the first place?" A blast close behind them caused both boys to jump. There was shouting and screaming a few hundred metres back.

"Because I got invited for tea by an acromantula, of course. Shut up and keep running," Draco snapped.

They sprinted on in a silence broken only by screams, the crackle of distant bonfires, shouted incantations, the occasional sobbing person running by, the worried chattering of groups they passed--

Okay, so it wasn't exactly silent.

The boys reached the edge of another campsite, all but burnt to the ground and completely deserted. A few scorched tent poles stood forlornly among the wreckage.

Draco blinked.

There were a few scattered bodies, trampled to death. Seamus tried not to throw up. He turned around to face the woods. Draco just stood there staring.

Once Seamus had successfully controlled his gag reflex, he glanced over at Draco. The other boy's face was emotionless and pale in the light from the remaining fires.

"Malfoy…?" Seamus said tentatively. No reaction. He tried again. "Draco…?" he hazarded.

"This was where we were staying," Draco told him in a hollow voice. He walked shakily to a particular patch of the rubble. "This was where our tent was." He walked a bit further, almost instantly obscured by thick black smoke that was pouring out of a residual fire.

Seamus heard a sharp intake of breath and a choking sound.

"Draco?" he called. No answer. He jogged over, worried. Draco was standing over a small, crushed body.

"This was the little girl two tents down," he said dully. "I helped her catch a frog this morning. Yesterday morning. Is it after midnight yet?"

"I…I don't know, my watch is still back at the tent, it's probably destroyed by now…"

Draco turned to Seamus, still with no emotion on his face. He was starting to worry Seamus.

"The Death Eaters didn't even come near here," he said softly. Seamus stepped closer, debating whether or not to pat Draco on the arm.

Draco solved the problem quite neatly by dropping his head onto Seamus' shoulder without a sound. They stood there for a minute until Seamus hesitantly put an arm around Draco.

Draco's head snapped up and he glared at Seamus.

"There's no time for this. We have to keep moving."

"What?" Seamus stuttered, hurt. So it's okay when he does something?

Draco clapped a hand over Seamus' mouth and pointed across the campsite. There were figures moving among the sooty debris on the far end of the campsite. Well, what used to be the campsite.

"Quiet," Draco mouthed. He grabbed Seamus' hand and dragged him back into the woods.

"How long have we been out here?" whispered Seamus. "Me mum'll be worried."

"Less than an hour," Draco assured him.

Seamus blanched. "Mum! Jesus, Mary and Moses, what if something happened--" He leapt up, only to be pulled down by Draco seconds later. His hand clamped over Seamus' mouth again.

"Shut up!" Draco hissed. "I know you're worried, but those are Aurors over there. If you show so much as a finger, they'll hex you into next week, and you're no good to your mother Stunned. SO please keep quiet and follow me. I'd rather you not get us caught."

"But we're fourteen, Draco. D'you honestly think they'll consider us a threat?" Seamus said sceptically. Draco gave him a look.

"You thought I was when you ran into me," he pointed out.

"Well, yes, but--"

"STUPEFY!"

A red bolt of light shot through the bush, narrowly missing Seamus' head. Draco gritted his teeth.

"I TOLD you to be quiet!" He hissed. They heard shouts.

"I think someone's over here!"

"Come on!"

"Show yourselves!"

"This way," muttered Draco, taking Seamus' hand again. "Stay low."

"No shit Sherlock," Seamus shot back as more spells ricocheted off the trees around them.

Suddenly, one of the Aurors caught sight of them. "There they are!" they called to their comrades.

Seamus and Draco tore through the woods in the opposite direction. That is, until Draco tripped and crashed into Seamus, causing both boys to roll down the embankment and land in a ditch.

Seamus didn't dare breathe as the Aurors blundered on past their, erm, hiding place.

Once the thrashings and curses had faded, Seamus relaxed. In fact, he relaxed enough to notice that he had landed on top of Draco, that he was currently lying in between Draco's legs and that Draco was, in the male anatomical sense of the word, quite far from relaxed.

Seamus coughed, noticing with a jolt that he wasn't either.

"Er…" he began. He stopped. There really was nothing to say.

"Shut up, Finnegan." Draco laced his fingers through Seamus' hair and brought their faces together.

After much too short a time, they separated for breath. Draco made a face and shifted uncomfortably.

"Er…" Seamus began.

"It's not you, Finn--eh, Seamus. There's a damn stick stabbing me in the back and you are quite heavy. That's all."

Other than an elderly couple who subsequently fainted upon seeing the debauchery taking place in their otherwise unscathed tent when they returned an hour after this scene, no one suspected a thing.