A/N: Written for Round 7 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I'm Chaser 2 of the Caerphilly Catapults.

The theme this round was Pairing Palooza. I chose S.S. Kicks and Giggles (Deamus). My optional prompts were 6. (setting) Hogwarts Express, 9. (dialogue) "You're crazy!" / "Were you ever under the impression that I was normal?" and 10. (creature) Boggart.

WARNING: Slight AU because we aren't told explicitly that Dean and Seamus love each other!


Seamus and Dean sat across from one another in an otherwise empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express. They were sitting on the edge of their seats, their knees almost touching—almost leaning into each other. They'd been that way since Dumbledore's funeral, each barely letting the other out of his sight.

"Do you think we'll ever see each other again?" Seamus asked, into the silence.

"Yeah. We will," Dean said.

Seamus looked up from his lap. "How can you be so sure? My mum's already tried to keep me from coming back once already. There's no way I'll be back next year."

"Because I'm sure," Dean snapped. Seamus looked back down, and they were silent again.

"Do you remember when the Dark Arts weren't real?" Dean said, several minutes later.

Seamus let out a weak chuckle and looked up at Dean. "I think the last time I really believed that, we were learning about boggarts with Professor Lupin."

"Yeah." Dean chuckled, too. "Do you remember what mine was?" he asked.

Seamus smirked. "A bloody severed hand that got caught in a mousetrap," he recalled.

"Oh, like your banshee who lost her voice was so much scarier!" Dean quipped lightly.

They started giggling together. "I'll never forget what Professor Moody did to that spider. Making it dance on Ron's desk," Seamus said.

"I know," Dean agreed, "I feel almost bad for laughing, since it was under the Imperius Curse, but Ron's face still cracks me up!"

They laughed loudly.

"The thing is," Seamus said, as their laughter faded, "I don't think my boggart would be a banshee anymore."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, still chuckling.

"I mean…I think it would be you, Dean. If—if something happened to you. It's just that it's never felt so real, until now. I mean, you don't know if you're a Muggleborn. What if something does happen to you? What if we never see each other again?"

Seamus realized after the fact that he had grabbed Dean's hands—a habit that had started long ago, but had recently gotten much stronger. Seamus knew why he did it, but he wasn't sure if Dean did. But Dean squeezed his hands reassuringly, and didn't let go. Seamus took a breath, and thought that it was as good a time as any to tell his friend. At least if he made a fool of himself, he'd likely never see Dean again, though that thought hurt more than the possibility of rejection.

"Dean, look, I may never see you again and—"

"What is with you? You're crazy!" Dean started laughing again.

"Were you ever under the impression that I was normal?" Seamus countered, much more seriously than he had intended. Suddenly, Dean wasn't laughing.

"We'll be ok," Dean told him, squeezing his hands again. "There's nothing that can come between us."

Seamus shook his head. "Bloody hell, I hope you mean that." And before he could talk himself out of it, he'd pressed his lips against Dean's.

He'd expected Dean to drop his hands. He'd expected surprise. He'd expected rejection. What he hadn't expected was Dean dropping his hands to tangle them in his hair, and pull him closer. He'd never expected that he'd be the one to end their first kiss.

"What?" he said, "How did you—how long have you—?"

At first he didn't get an answer, because Dean was kissing him again, hard, and he didn't have the heart to pull away. And after that, it didn't really matter, though Dean, between kisses, confessed that he'd found out halfway through sixth year, and broke up with Ginny because of it.

It would be almost a year before they would see each other again, and then there was no time for anything because they were fighting for their lives—their right to live in the wizarding world. And Dean hadn't brought a wand. Seamus almost decked him.

But in the end, he was too happy that they had both managed to stay alive to be that mad at Dean. He felt drunk with relief and couldn't stop laughing as they sat with Aberforth after the battle. It wasn't until hours later that they were alone again—Seamus all but dragged Dean into a deserted corridor to snog him senseless.

"Hey," Dean said, when they separated momentarily.

"Hey," Seamus replied. He thought momentarily about how messy he must have looked; he never had been very good at steering clear of the explosions he created—accidentally throughout his Hogwarts career or on purpose that evening. His hair was sticking up, and probably had ash in it. For all he knew, Dean could taste the ash in their kiss and he was going to turn away and tell him to take a bath before snogging him again.

But then Dean surged forward to capture his lips again, and it was heaven. It was everything he'd ever imagined it would be, and he'd spent a lot of time imagining that year. It didn't even seem to matter that his dreams would always end in finding Dean dead before they could kiss again, he kept on dreaming anyway, for the happy moments.

"I wanted to come sooner," Dean said, when they separated for air again, as if reading Seamus's mind.

"You're crazy!" he said, shoving the taller boy away, "You'd have been killed!"

Dean smiled. "Were you ever under the impression that I was normal?"

Seamus had to smile, too. "Be my boyfriend?" he said, entwining his fingers with Dean's.

"Absolutely."