PTC, keeping me active. I'm coming at you with that DeanBlaise good stuff.
Warnings: mentions of war and a unfulfilling relationship.
Words: 560 (sorry mama. forgive me)
Under the Ravenclaw Stands
It wasn't supposed to happen the way it did.
It wasn't supposed to happen at all.
…
It started in their second year, a game between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Dean was wearing his scarf, clearly a Gryffindor, rooting for the Gryffindor team.
He ran into a scrawny boy headfirst, his face tucked in a bag of Honeyduke's sweets that Fred and George had scored for him during their last Hogsmeade visit—he wasn't sure why, but the twin's liked him.
"Sorry," a clipped tone said, and Dean stared at the boy dressed in green and silver. He only knew the Slytherin by last name: Zabini. He had been in a few classes with him.
The boy seemed nice enough, understated… but also dangerous.
Dean smiled. "It's alright, mate."
Somehow, with only those four words as incentive, they ended up watching the game together, hidden beneath the stands.
…
By third year, it was tradition. They met under the Ravenclaw stand five minutes before each game, neither sporting any house colors.
They never talked outside of these few occasions. It was an odd friendship they created.
…
Fourth year was strange, but they treated the Triwizard Tournament trials as if they were Quidditch events. Their friendship continued.
Dean noticed something off about Zabini. He was always a quiet person, but he seemed more silent and cautious in their fourth year than ever before.
…
Fifth year without Quidditch was hell—Dean finally snapped, lonely and desperate, and began seeing Ginny Weasley. It wasn't enough.
Both of them wanted someone they couldn't have.
…
It felt like a requirement, in his sixth year, to continue dating Ginny. They snuck around. They kissed. He sat in the Gryffindor stands during the Quidditch games. On occasion, he caught Blaise's eye. He forced himself to ignore the hurt shown in the Slytherin's stance.
When Ginny broke up with him, apologies falling from her lips, begging for them to remain friends, he smiled and gave her a hug.
Both of them were relieved.
…
Blaise saw him alone in the stands during the last match of the season.
Unspoken words crossed the stands, desperate pleas communicated through carefully glances.
Five minutes into the game, they met under the Ravenclaw stands.
Ten minutes into the game, the scores were forgotten.
In their time apart, they had grown this desperate need for each other. Now that they were together… Dean almost cried into Blaise's lips.
…
"I miss you," Dean breathed, hugging his knees to his chest. He wanted Blaise.
He was supposed to be at Hogwarts, partaking in his last year. He was supposed to be happy.
It was cold. He was alone.
…
After the Battle of Hogwarts, Dean snuck out to the Quidditch Pitch, hiding underneath the Ravenclaw stands. He tucked himself in a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, his back against the wood of the stands.
He barely even noticed Blaise's presence. Not until he was gently pulling Dean into his lap. Strong arms, no longer the scrawny and scrappy ones he remembered, encircled Dean, and he finally relaxed.
"Thank Merlin you're okay," Blaise whispered, holding him closer. "I fought for you. I thought I was fighting for the memory of you." Dean felt tears fall onto his skin. He wasn't sure if they were from Blaise or himself. "But you're alive. Thank Merlin."