I.
The letter trembles in your hand. Muggle-Born Registration, it says. But you know better. It's just another word for a death sentence (if you're lucky- not that you ever are).
Seamus is the one you run to. The two of you know this must end, but still you sit, his arms around you, watching the night sky.
"You have to run," he says.
"I know."
Seamus kisses you, just a chaste little farewell. "Be safe."
You want to promise it, but you know it's promise that might not can be kept. "See ya, Shay."
II.
Time goes by. You're always dirty and tired. You're paranoid now, always looking over your shoulder for a foe that's rarely there. Sometimes you wonder why you're still running. It hurts to keep going, but your heart won't let you stop.
Some nights, during those brief stretches of rest, you take a stick and draw his face in the sand, and you sing the hymns his dad once taught him, the hymns Seamus passed down to you. It doesn't kill the loneliness. If anything, it makes it so much worse.
But these gestures are pieces of him. Maybe you can't caress them or talk to them, but you can carry them with you in your soul.
III.
Seamus is the first one you see when you and Luna stumble into the Room of Requirements. For several seconds, all you can do is stare at one another. It's been so long, and you've spent the past several months convinced you'd never see him again.
You've spent so much time running, but, now, you're running to him. His arms wrap around you, and all you want is to kiss him, to kiss away the pain in every ugly bruise the Death Eaters of Hogwarts have painted over his face.
You don't, of course. There's a time and a place. You only hope you're both alive when it comes.
"Shay," you murmur.
He touches your cheek, gentle fingers tracing your jaw. "It's okay," he whispers, and you believe him.