(A/N) Okay, this is shorter than I usually make oneshots, but I really liked this one. It was intense for me to write, and I hope you all like it!
The Great Hall was much quieter than any time Seamus could remember. The only sound was the clinking of silverware and goblets, and the occassional flap of an owl entering with some sort of news, though it was usually bad. Seamus munched on his toast read a nearby Daily Prophet before tossing it away in disgust. The rubbish they put in those things was ridiculous. He caught Ginny's eye and gave her a quick half grin before she returned to her conversation with Luna Lovegood.
Seamus looked up and caught sight of something the froze his insides and made him drop his toast. It was a tawny ministry owl that had a jet black letter with a gold seal attached to its leg. Seamus could feel his face become ashen as the owl landed in front of him. With trembling hands, he detached the letter, trying to imagine what relative had been killed this time. He had already lost Fergus, and his Uncle Mickey. With baited breath, he carefully slit open the envelope and took out the thick parchment.
Dear Mr. Seamus Finnigan,
We, the Ministry, regret to inform you that your mother's corpse was found on Friday, January fifteenth. It is thought to be the work of You Know Who's followers. Her body was claimed by Mr. Finnigan.
The letter was written as a fill in the blank; as if it was just another piece of paperwork, instead of the worst news a person could receive. Seamus choked back his tears. Instead a totally different emotion took hold of him. A rage boiled within Seamus that was unlike anything he had ever experienced; fury at Voldemort, at the death eaters, at the incompetent ministry, and even a little anger at his mother, for dying when he hadn't been able to help her. He crumpled the letter and tossed it to the floor, where it exploded, sending out small sparks as Seamus stormed from the hall.
He walked quickly to the Room of Requirement, following the old route with familiarity as portraits and paintings blurred together as he passed them. Echoes of what he imagined to be his mother's screams bounced off the walls of his head. Images of his mother's dead body seeped into his brain, his mind creating more grotesque scenarios than he cared to admit.
He marched into the room; it had transformed into the D.A. Training room, complete with realistic Death Eaters. He slipped his wand out of its holster and began sending various destructive spells at the death eaters. Blasting, slicing, cutting; any hex he could think of sprang from his wand. His heart raced, blood pounding in his
ears. Seamus let out an animalistic snarl as the death eater exploded into dust.
"Are you alright?" A voice said, taking Seamus by surprise. It was Ginny, who appeared to have walked in during his tirade. He was still facing the opposite wall when he responded.
"I'm fine," he answered hoarsely, his Irish accent more pronounced from grief. He sank to the floor as a pillow appeared beneath him. Ginny joined him, grasping his hand comfortingly.
"They got to my mum," Seamus explained, staring at his feet, not wanting to see the pity in Ginny's chocolate brown eyes.
"Then we will have to get to them," Ginny spoke fiercely, again taking him by surprise. She always seemed to be doing that. "Because we are not going to just sit here and let them think they've won."
Seamus turned his head to look at her, seeing the determination burning brightly in her eyes. Ginny tucked a lock of ginger hair behind her ear as she squeezed his hand. "And we'll do it together," she said in barely more than a whisper.
"We will," Seamus agreed, as the tension in the room seemed to grow to be almost tangible. It was as if there was a magnetic pull between them, and their lips met for the briefest of seconds, sending an a firey spark through the both of them. Brown eyes locked with his deep blue. Seamus realized in that moment, that life was much too short to wait for anything; most of all, love.
His hearting was beating faster than he ever thought possible. He heard Ginny's breath hitch at the back of her throat as his hands cupped her face and kissed her intensely, fiercely; it was the kind of kiss that that made them not have a care in the world. It was kind of kiss that made them not care if the world was ending, not care if death eaters stormed in at that very moment, for in that moment, not even Voldemort himself could tear the pair apart from each other.
(A/N) So, what did you think? Leave suggestion for a ship, please!