Disclaimer: I'm shit at writing for Seamus. I just had this wonderful idea for a Deamus fanfiction (my all-time Harry Potter OTP) and I needed to write it. I really don't know how he talks, or what type of slang he uses, so bear with me. I'm trying very hard (in other words, I looked up some crap and none of it made its way into the actual story. I apologize). Nevertheless, enjoy. :)
"Hey, mate?" Seamus asked.
He was accompanied by his best friend, Dean Thomas, who he had met at the beginning of the year.
"We've been friends for forever, haven't we?"
"I wouldn't say forever, Shay." Chuckled Dean. "Less than a year. We're only first years."
"Yeah, but for a while." Seamus reasoned.
"I guess you could say that." Dean said with a shrug.
"What do long-time friends do?" Wondered the Irish.
Dean had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. His best friend was absolutely ridiculous, but he loved him regardless. Not in the icky way, but, you know, as a friend. "I dunno, is there anything we're supposed to do?"
"Not for wizards, at least that I know of. What about Muggles?" Seamus asked him.
Dean thought about it for a minute. "Well, they keep in touch, hang out, send each other letters, really nothing too important."
"That's what we'll do! We'll write letters to each other!" Shouted the blonde haired so suddenly that Dean flinched and his hand stabbed across the page of what he had been drawing.
"Oops, sorry, mate. Gives you more time to write now, though, doesn't it?" Seamus said.
Dean looked down at another one of his failed artworks (ninety nine percent of the time they were screwed up because of his best friend), and he can't stay mad at him for long.
"Yeah, yeah, okay. We'll both start writing now and give it to each other after."
"Nah, Dean, that's too easy." Seamus snorted. "It has to be fun… How about we write letters to each other each year."
Dean had to almost stop himself from frowning. Though Seamus didn't always show it, he was rather brilliant. He was a little jealous he hadn't beaten the Irish to that idea. "Then when are we gonna read them?"
"When we decide the time is right." Seamus said decidedly.
The other boy thought about whining about reading them earlier, but Seamus was incredibly stubborn. Once his mind was made up, there was no changing it. Now was one of those times.
"All right, fine. Let's just get started. Always at the end of each year." Dean agreed.
Seamus beamed at him and the other Gryffindor's heart sped up a couple beats. "Can't wait to read 'em later, Dean." He said, reaching into his bag to pull out some parchment, ink, and a quill.
Dean ripped the used drawing out of his sketchpad (it was merely a sketch of the Hogwarts crest, but there was now a slash mark across the Hufflepuff badger, decapitating it).
He chewed on the eraser of his writing utensil before putting the tip of his pencil on the paper - Muggle pencils were much better than quills in his opinion - and got to work.
So, we made a pact to write to each other every year. I'm not turning on it. You better not either.
Blimey, this sounded like a MUCH better idea in my head. There's so much to say and so little that I can put into words. Ha, that sounded really philosophical. Maybe I should write that on a piece of paper and slip it to Dumbledore, that could replace his "last words."
All right, enough with the jokes. I guess the reason why I wanted to do all this was because I wanted you to know how much you mean to me, as sappy as it sounds. I know you won't be reading it till sometime later, but it'll be nice to know any time. You're truly my best mate.
I can even imagine you reading this right now, I bet there's tears running down your cheeks. Just kidding, Dean.
And for the record, you know how you always say that you need me because you're not social enough without me? I think it's backwards. I need you.
Damn. Good thing we only have to write one of these things a year.
Just so you know (later), this is counting as your birthday card, too.
You're quite a pain in the arse, do you know that?
Okay, ignore that. I'm just playing.
What to say, what to say… I guess there isn't much to say that I already haven't. You may keep your secrets (but hopefully you don't), but I won't. You know all of mine. And you will forever, for that matter. Because you're my best mate. I want nothing to change that.
"Dean, it's the last fecking day of second year!" Seamus shouted from his bed.
"Yeah, I know. That's why I'm bloody packing." Said Dean across from him as he shoved his red Gryffindor ties into his trunk.
"We're gonna break the deal if we don't hurry up!" Seamus said urgently.
"What deal?" Dean said, closing his trunk and staring quizzically at his best friend and his cryptic question.
"The letters! I just remembered. We need to write them. Now." Ordered Seamus.
Dean face palmed. "Blimey, I almost forgot. Thanks for the reminder, Shay." He said honestly. Dean couldn't forget the pact he made, he was always true to his word.
"Have any parchment?" Seamus called.
"Yeah, come get it, lazy." Dean said, laughing a little as he pulled out two pieces of parchment and a pencil from his now open trunk.
Seamus whined while remaining stationary. "No, it's much too far. You bring it over here."
"No way. I'm starting to write now. You get it." Dean said. He'd been trying to convert Seamus into being less lazy (this year he had done the majority of his homework; he was incapable of saying "no" to Seamus for the most part. Dean was trying to break the pattern) and it wasn't working out that well.
"Fine, arsehole." Grumbled Seamus as he leaped from his bed to Dean's.
The other boy let out a squeal (but he'd never admit it) and avoided the Irish as he hit the bed, lurching the mattress forward and sprawling, taking up most of the room.
"Oh, I'm the arsehole?" Dean said sarcastically.
"You've got it." Seamus said with a grin, snatching up a paper. "Do you have a quill?"
"No. You had one earlier today. What happened to yours?"
"I burned it along with the rest with my school stuff, of course." Seamus said, looking at Dean as if he were bonkers to ask such a question.
"On purpose or accidentally?" Dean smirked.
Seamus scowled. "Give me a bloody pencil, then."
The other Gryffindor reached back into his trunk and threw the writing utensil at Seamus. "So, you did burn it."
"Bugger off." Replied Seamus, before bouncing off Dean's bed back to his own.
The other Gryffindor laughed, then started to write his letter.
Can you keep a secret? Of course you can. You won't know about this until we both mutually decide. So I guess that's a yes.
I'll never really say this to you otherwise, I'm pretty sure, because I'm not a sap. Unlike you.
Just kidding, mate. Alright, here it is…
I was scared to (almost) death when that goddamn snake was making its way around Hogwarts. You're probably Muggle born, and there's nothing you can do about that. In fact, Muggles are interesting (even though kicking around balls in hopes that they land in nets is pretty pointless). But you were in danger, Dean. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if you got turned to stone. What's the fancy word for it again…? Oh, yeah, petrified. That's it.
Really, though. I can't lose you, because you're my best friend.
And it would really suck if anybody else reprimanded me about blowing stuff up.
I'm sorry that we fought because you thought I was being clingy. That wasn't my objective, not at all. I just wanted to keep you safe.
I was prepared to fight a fecking snake for you, Dean, and if that's not friendship, I don't know what it is. Hell, that sounds more romantic than friendly.
I'm gonna stop talking now, that just got awkward. For me.
I'd like to apologize. I told you when the Basilisk was going around that I wanted some space because you wouldn't let me breathe.
I never should've said that to you, I know you're secretly sensitive.
And your face, when I said it, it made my heart break. Your eyes widened in confusion and disbelief. Your mouth parted in shock, and tried to form words, but you couldn't. I could see you holding back tears.
I immediately regretted it, Shay. I really did.
I knew that you were trying to protect me, but I was trying to protect you. Even though you aren't Muggle born, the snake wouldn't attack you on purpose. But I couldn't take that chance. If that overgrown worm was going to get me, I couldn't let you get hurt, or even killed in the process. So I told you to distance yourself.
I regret that. We missed out on a month or two being together.
I missed your presence everywhere. There were times when I wanted to give in, practically throw myself at the Basilisk and get it over with, because I thought I'd die from it anyways, but I didn't.
Because I knew that once everything was done, I'd see you one way or another.
I'm glad I have you back.
Your best mate,
"Shay, you're spacing out again." Chuckled Dean.
Seamus jumped to attention at his best mate's voices. He let out a frustrated noise and looked back down at his letter. "Sorry, Dean. I was just thinking of what to write to you. I'm a bit stuck this year. Well, more than normal." Seamus frowned down at his empty piece of paper.
"I'd help you, but that'd be self-centered. I can't write things about myself." Dean said with a laugh.
"I know. Shut up, I'm trying to focus and you're distracting me." Seamus attempted a glare, but it failed horribly.
"Okay, okay! I'll be quiet." Said Dean. The scratching of his pencil on parchment followed soon after.
Seamus bit the tip of his quill and started writing.
I honestly think I'm starting to go fecking bonkers.
When I'm around you… I don't know. I get this weird, bubbly feeling in my chest.
It started after Buckbeak attacked Malfoy. You looked concerned, even though he was a Slytherin. Your lips were pursed, your eyes concentrated, the way you tensed, like you wanted to jump up and do something, but you didn't.
I leaned into you to get your attention so that you didn't do something rash (like I normally would've) and I saw something in your eyes. It was electrifying. I think for the first time I didn't see you as "Dean, my best mate." I saw you as "Dean the Gryffindor that could totally kick everybody's arse if he wanted to."
I feel awkward now, because when that happened my heart couldn't stop pounding. I felt like that for the next couple days.
I can't be starting to fancy you, right? You're a guy. And, if I haven't already mentioned a thousand times earlier, you're my BEST FRIEND.
It's ridiculous, eh? Yeah, for sure. You'd DEFINETELY be calling me bonkers right now. I'm sure I'll be fine by next year.
P.S. I'm not creepily staring at you every chance I get. Not at all.
I hope it wasn't something I did. You've been looking at me strangely ever since Malfoy's "blimey, I just got slashed my a Hippogriff!" incident.
Was it because I wanted to help? I guess that was wrong of me.
But no, I don't think that's it. You seem embarrassed around me, almost. So it probably isn't that. Something else I did then.
I hope this tension defuses before fourth year. Before the Triwizard Tournament, if I'm lucky. Is now too late to tell you I'm rooting for Bulgaria?
Stay on topic, Dean. Come on.
At least you explain what I did. It's really bugging me, if you haven't noticed. I don't want a downfall between us being my fault.
"Dean, gimme the goddamn parchment!" Seamus yelled.
"Blimey, you Irishmen are so rude." Said Dean with a laugh as he held his best mate's paper above the shorter boy's head.
"That is so not fair! Stop rubbing your height in, would you?" Snarled Seamus, jumping up and down to try to grab the parchment.
"Still waiting for the magic word." Dean said with a smirk.
A similar devious grin crossed Seamus' face. He loved how unaware Dean was to the wizard/Muggle expressions and differences. "Alright. Accio!" The paper zoomed into his hand.
Dean glared down at the shorter Gryffindor. "That's cheating. I'm trying to teach you manners. You need it after the Yule Ball. Lavender left you, for Christ's sake." He reprimanded.
"So? I got to dance with you instead." Laughed Seamus.
Dean joined in. "Yeah, you didn't such that bad, surprisingly."
"Surprisingly, my arse. You've been waiting for that since first year… Anyways, I'm gonna start writing now, Dean." He said playfully.
"Okay, okay." Dean agreed, pulling out his lucky pencil as the other started to write.
You know how I said in the last letter that I'd have my feelings sorted out?
I've never lied so much in my fecking life.
I've fallen for you. I'm not sure when I did, maybe it was the Hippogriff thing, maybe the Yule Ball, maybe somewhere in between. Hell, it could've been the first moment I saw you and I refused to admit it until now.
I'm sure of it. I fancy you, Dean.
And I'm scared. So scared. Almost as scared as when the Basilisk (I finally learned the correct name of it from Hermione a couple days ago) was going around the place, praying on people.
Because you CAN'T find out. And I CAN'T ruin this friendship. But I CAN'T move on. There are too many CAN'Ts and not enough CAN's.
One thing's for sure, though. I CAN hope that one day, you'll fancy me back.
Something happened this year between us. I feel guilty for it, whatever it is.
I think I'm starting to fancy you, Shay. I really don't want to, it'll ruin everything.
It's probably just teenage hormones…
Still, though. You can't blame me.
It was that bloody Yule Ball that set everything off. You had stepped on Lavender's feet one too many times while dancing and she was annoyed. She left to go dance with some other Durmstrang bloke, but you didn't seem too bothered. A slow song came on, and you bowed and asked me to dance (albeit jokingly). I couldn't say no, could I? Definitely not.
We wore matching white dress shirts and black vests. You wore yours casually and it was unbuttoned. Your hair was swept up in its sandy blonde manor, and your eyes looked alive.
We danced jovially throughout the whole slow dance, ignoring others watching us. Whether it was because it was two guys or because we were rather erratic, I don't know or care. (You didn't either.)
It was beautiful. Every time you look at me, now, I have to look away. Because whenever I see you, I remember how you felt pressed against me, with our sweaty hands clasping each other's.
You made me feel complete, Seamus.
There was no doubt about it. Things were awkward between the two best friends. They both noticed, even though Seamus could be extremely unaware.
The duo often sat in silence, each thinking their own thoughts, wanting to say something, but never doing it.
That was what they were doing then, sitting in their usual carriage on the train. Ginny, Dean's new girlfriend, had gotten up to sit with Neville and Luna earlier.
"So… Er… The letters? We gonna do that this year?" Began Seamus, clearing his throat uncomfortably.
"Oh, yeah! Almost forgot about those again." Dean said, a small smile on his face. "I have parchment and pencils, don't worry." He opened his trunk and handed Seamus the materials, but the joy that normally radiated from that tradition lacked evidently.
"Thanks." Muttered Seamus.
The quietness filled the carriage again and the only sounds were the gliding of pencils on paper.
It's unfair of me to be mad at you. Well, I'm not really mad. Just jealous. And infuriated, I guess.
Because you're dating GINNY WEASLEY while I still fancy you. Honestly, though, you barely ever talked about her before you asked her out! There was that one time, last summer, when we were talking about which girls we thought were pretty. You said she was, but that was it. You didn't elaborate or anything. I don't even recall seeing you two talk before you started dating.
I wish I could re-do this whole year. I wouldn't have gotten mad at Harry, causing a rift between us, making you spend time with Ginny, which led to you asking her out.
I should be a supportive best mate, but you can't expect me to when I fancy you. You're not making ANY of this liking business easy for me!
Well, feck. This whole "sentimental" writing letters thing has turned into a gigantic rant.
I'm sorry. This letter sucked.
I'll make things better by next year, I promise.
Is it just me, or are all of my letters either filled with angst or apologies? I hope it is and that you wrote nothing but good things in all of mine. That's just foolish and selfish of me to ask, though. Especially this year's…
I know you're hurt that I'm dating Ginny. Truthfully, I'm only doing it so that she can distract me from you. I don't fancy her, really. She's pretty, nice, funny, but she's not you. Besides, I'm pretty sure she fancies someone else.
I remember your expression when you walked in on us kissing. It was just a peck, really, I didn't want to go much farther than that. But your eyes, blimey, your eyes. I've never seen so much pain in them.
It hurt me, too, you know. I all but shoved Ginny away from me and apologized to you. You put on your "I don't care, it's all fine!" face and winked, then told us to make good choices before leaving.
I'm still your best mate, Shay. I know that you were faking it.
For a second, I thought you actually fancied me back.
I couldn't go after you, but I wanted to. Before I knew it, Ginny followed your instructions and went back to snogging me. I didn't want to be rude and push her away, I'm not the type to want to break hearts (even if she doesn't really like me), so I went along with it.
Every time I bring it up, you change the subject. I really think we should talk things out, but I can't.
I want to right things wrong, Shay, more than anything.
All I want is for both of us to be happy (and you).
Forever your best mate,
Seamus sat alone in his room. He was sprawled on his bed on his stomach, staring at an empty piece of parchment and pencil on his pillow. The Gryffindor had taken it from Dean, before he left, earlier.
He resisted the urge to burst into tears, reminding himself not to be dramatic as he nosed his face into his blanket.
Normally, his thoughts whizzed by faster than any broomstick could fly, but now they were centered on one thing. I miss Dean, I miss Dean, I miss Dean, I miss Dean, I MISS DEAN, chanted his brain.
Seamus shook his head, took the pencil, sat up, and began to write.
I miss you.
It's the end of sixth year. You're on the run because Dumbledore died and the corrupt "Ministry" is trying to find Muggle borns. I don't blame you for leaving, the last thing I want is for you to get hurt.
But I'm in pain without you. Because you should be here right now, with me, and Dumbledore should be alive, and everything should be okay. Everything's okay when you're around. You're not here, though, so nothing is.
I wish we could've had more time before you left. Feck, I'd give ANYTHING for one day, one hour, one minute, one goddamn second longer. Our time was way too short. Not enough for me to tell you how I feel.
You told me before the funeral you were leaving. I opened my mouth to shout at you, but you just yanked me into your arms. We held each other for a good ten minutes, and you pretended to not notice the tears on your shirt. I was grateful for that. I almost wanted you to cry, too, because then I'd know for sure you'd miss me. I know you will, though.
During the funeral, we sat side-by-side. You stuck with me even after I all out screamed at me mam that I'd be staying here, because feck it, Dumbledore deserves to be recognized. Then she can take me, because then I wouldn't care anymore. You even held my hand during the whole service.
Afterwards, we both knew it was time to go. We hugged again and our hands were clasped still. You leaned down as if you were gonna kiss me, and blimey, would I have wanted you to.
Instead, you said quietly, "you're so brave."
I just smiled. If I said anything, I would have broken down in public, and THAT would've been embarrassing.
And Dean, for the record?
I think I may love you.
Stay safe. I'll see you later, okay, best mate?
Dean was out of breath. He had been on the run for the past couple weeks, and a group of snatchers had nearly grabbed him.
He slowed to a stop behind an old, abandoned cottage and leaned against it, sliding to the ground.
The former student tried to keep his labored gasps of air quiet, even though the snatchers were long gone. He didn't want anybody else finding him, friend or foe.
Dean pulled out a smooshed sandwich from his backpack that he had stolen from a convenience store a while back. Whatever was in it didn't matter to him, at least he had food and time to think.
He allowed his thoughts to wander for a little while, and immediately, his favorite little Irishman popped into mind. Dean grinned stupidly at the thought of Seamus, he missed his best mate incredibly, but he chose to remember all the nice times he had with him.
Suddenly, the letters that they wrote to each other yearly popped into his brain.
He restrained himself from letting out a gasp as he dropped his sandwich, before ripping open his bag, trying to find a pencil and paper. Dean found a red color pencil at the very bottom of his backpack and his sketch book, then flipped to an empty page and started to write.
As of now, I'm okay. Shaken up, a little malnourished, thirsty, dirty, in need of stability, but fine.
Really, the only thing that's keeping me running is you. To be honest, I don't have much else to live for. There are other friends, sure, but none of them compare to you. Hell, my family isn't even my top priority at this point. You are.
I thrive on the sliver of hope that I'll be able to see you and call you mine one day. It's most likely never going to happen, but I have to think that if I want to survive.
I wonder how you're doing right now. I can only hope that you're missing me as much as I miss you. That probably isn't the case, for all I know you're hitting it off with Neville and you're dating Lavender, but again, I have to hope.
Blimey, Shay, I can't wait to see you again (because it's going to happen). I want to be able to kiss you when I finally do. Not that stupid almost kiss where I changed my mind at the last second after the funeral, a real one. Because what I feel for you is definitely not just a "crush," and you deserve it.
I'll meet up with you soon, Shay.
Seamus stared at the portrait hole that was swinging ajar. He was unsure of what to do (crying, screaming, and fainting would've all been good options).
Standing at the entrance was his best friend, Dean, who hadn't seen in forever.
The Room of Requirement's normal buzz went dead silent now that the tension between the two best mates was there. Everybody even completely forgot that Harry Potter had just entered, and they were focused on Dean and Seamus.
Finally, the Irishman let out a roar, "DEAN!" and sprinted to him. Dean was almost knocked over by Seamus launching himself into his arms. A loud sob was muffled by Dean's worn shirt and it was clear who it was from. "I missed you, Shay." Dean murmured soothingly, rubbing Seamus' back comfortingly.
Ginny not-so-subtly made a motion for the rest of the students to pay attention to Harry, who was explaining his plan and give the duo some space.
"Blimey, Dean, I thought you were dead, I missed you so fecking much!" Blubbered Seamus softly so he didn't disrupt the other meeting. He could care less about whatever his classmates were thinking of, nothing else mattered at all, actually. Because Dean was there with him.
Eventually, the two Gryffindor's separated their embrace, but they still held each other close.
"The letters." Seamus reminded Dean. "I have them with me. Can we give them to each other now, just in case…?" He trailed off.
Dean knew he was going to say "if one of us dies in the war that's about to happen," but who really wanted to talk about that?
He nodded and pulled his seven letters out of his pocket (his jeans were ripped and dirty, how they managed to stay there shocked him). Dean placed them carefully in Seamus' hands, making sure they made physical contact.
The Irishman pulled his out of his Gryffindor robe pocket. They were noticeably less dirty and neater, but they were letters, and Dean wasn't picky.
He put the letters safely back in his pocket and Seamus did the same.
"Shall we join those guys?" Dean asked, nodding at the group of students behind him.
Seamus nodded solemnly. For now on, he had to stop thinking of Dean enough to fight a war. He didn't want to be unfocused as usual, resulting in him or his friends getting hurt (Merlin forbid Dean). The mere thought of war at his age was preposterous, yes, but he couldn't back out and be a coward now (even though he had the strong urge to turn and run). Seamus Finnigan was a Gryffindor and Hogwarts was his home. He would fight for his family bravely and win. Then he could be with Dean.
Seamus steeled himself, grabbed Dean's hand in an act of boldness, and they walked back to the group.
It was official. The war was real and they were all soldiers.
Seamus was still in a state of shock. The war was over. There were many causalities, too many, but in the end, Hogwarts had won.
He wanted to scream and cry and run and be normal again, but that was impossible. His emotions were too complicated.
Seamus sat next to Aberforth. They had exchanged small talk, but the older man could see Seamus just needed silence and thinking time now.
The Gryffindor sighed quietly and looked down at his lap. With a jolt, he saw a couple letters poking out of his pocket. He scrambled to get them out, and, thankfully, all seven were still there.
Seamus' heart ached. He had seen a glimpse of Dean after Voldemort died, and he nearly sobbed of happiness then and there, because he was okay.
Then, his best mate had been whisked away to clean up around the Room of Requirement with a Slytherin girl he didn't recognize. Professor McGonagall wanted to be able to re-open Hogwarts next year, and she needed everything back in order.
Seamus decided he shouldn't bother Dean now, there was plenty of time later. He filed through the letters, found the one that was made in their first year, and started reading.
Nobody disrupted Seamus as he took time to digest the information in Dean's notes while tears streamed down his face.
After an hour, he reached the final letter, which was written that year. There were only eight words. It read:
I love you.
Seamus' breath hitched, he had been hoping this whole time Dean had made his final decision on whether he fancied him or not.
A voice shouted from across the Great Hall caught the Irishman's attention. "SEAMUS!" Hollered a certain voice that was angelic to his ears.
He jumped up from his spot and shoved the letters in his pocket. Seamus looked wildly around the room to locate Dean. There were so many faces surrounding him: the Slytherin girl that left with Dean holding Fred Weasley's hand and sobbing, Neville and Luna sitting side-by-side, smiling at each other, Hermione, Ron, and Harry leaving the Great Hall to go to the demolished bridge.
Then, he saw Dean and his heart soared. He looked just as handsome as always, and he had a little scratch on his cheekbone. The Gryffindor was running towards Seamus, glee displayed in his expression.
Seamus jumped off of the table (nearly falling) and sprinted at Dean.
They both skidded to a stop in front of each other so they didn't have a collision.
Dean panted as he held out Seamus' final letter. His best mate had memorized the simple words on that note. It said:
I love you.
It was short and simple, but more importantly true.
Dean didn't miss a beat before dropping the paper and scooping the tiny Irishman in his arms, yanking their lips together for a heated kiss. Catcalls and whoops were heard all around the Great Hall as everybody watched the new couple, but the two lovers blocked them out.
Seamus slipped his hands into Dean's curly hair and snogged him back just as passionately. He could honestly say then that he'd never felt more complete.
The five word letter remained forgotten on the ground. They wouldn't be needing those anymore.