Horrors Never End


Seamus sat alone in the break room. His fingers were curled around a big mug of black coffee and had been for the twelve minutes since he'd sat down with it.

The last thirteen hours had been harrowing.

Since the moment Healer Stevens had called them in, Seamus hadn't had a moment to himself. WIthin minutes, wounded started arriving. Patients came in near death; they came in cursed beyond recognition; they came in with wounds gorier than Seamus had ever seen before. But he'd had to pretend none of it affected him, and focus on his job.

And he had.

Now, however, it was all catching up. Patients dying in his arms, wounds worse than the battle of Hogwarts, and families crying in the waiting rooms. Seamus just found himself staring into his mug, unblinkingly.


Seamus looked up from the murky contents of his mug, feeling warmth spread through his chest as he made eye contact with George.

"They told me you were in here," he continued. "How you holding up?"

Seamus shook his head, voice stuck in his throat. He swallowed the lump that threatened to break out as a sob and took a deep shaky breath.

"It was… horrific," Seamus whispered. "Just fucking horrible."

George sank into the seat beside Seamus and wrapped his arms around the Healer as Seamus's voice broke, and he collapsed into bouts of silent, shuddering sobs. "It's okay," George murmured, pulling Seamus into his chest and pressing his mouth against the top of his dark hair. "It's okay. You're okay," he soothed.

He didn't feel okay, but at least Seamus felt safe with George's arms wrapped around him. It felt like it might be okay, eventually.

Hogwarts Daily Prompt: Day 3 - St Mungos