Deamus Fanfiction

Chapter Two

Seamus

When Seamus had asked Lavender Brown to the Yule Ball, he'd forgotten one small fact: Lavender was a giggler.

She giggled at everything. Everything he said, even "Blimey, these are good potatoes", was apparently funny enough to make her giggle for twenty seconds straight. And when she caught sight of Ron's dress robes, she giggled so hard she had tears in her eyes. Okay, sure, the dress robes were hideous, but they weren't that funny.

It was better when they started dancing. The music was so loud he couldn't hear anything over it. But after three or four songs, Parvati appeared out of nowhere and dragged Lavender off the dance floor. Lavender caught hold of Seamus' wrist, pulling him with her. The three of them sat down at a table in the corner, where Parvati started telling Lavender about how Harry and Ron didn't even want to dance with her and Padma. She ignored Seamus the whole time, and so did Lavender.

"I mean, why did he ask me to be his date if he was just going to ignore me all night?" Parvati said.

"Boys are stupid," Lavender replied solemnly.

"I'm right here," Seamus said. Neither of them seemed to hear him.

As they continued their conversation, Seamus leaned back in his chair and looked around the Great Hall, trying to spot Dean. They'd been sitting at the same table for dinner, but had gotten separated when the dancing started. He supposed Dean must be somewhere in the crowd that filled the dance floor. He wondered if he was dancing with that Beauxbatons girl. Seamus didn't even know her name. Still, he'd decided he didn't like her.

Twenty minutes later, Lavender and Parvati were still too wrapped up in their conversation to notice him. He stood up and walked away, glancing back over his shoulder as he did so. Neither of them realised he'd gone.

The night had suddenly stopped being fun. Or maybe it never had been.

All he wanted was to go back to the dormitory.

Well, actually, there was something else he wanted more. But he couldn't think about that.

As he passed the dance floor, he saw Neville dancing with Ginny Weasley. Even Neville's having a good time, he thought sourly to himself. He hadn't expected the night to go like this. He'd thought maybe...

It was his own fault. Why had he asked Lavender to come to the ball with him? He supposed it was partly because she'd been one of the few girls left without a date. And because he'd known her since their first year. But mostly...mostly it was because he'd wanted to see how Dean would react. He'd wanted to see jealousy, maybe even anger, in Dean's eyes. But he hadn't. And Dean hadn't said anything.

As he was leaving the Great Hall, he bumped into someone and opened his mouth to apologise, until he realised it was Dean. He froze, lips parted, staring at his best friend. Dean looked as unhappy as Seamus felt.

"Where were you?" Seamus asked.

"Bathroom," Dean muttered. Then he narrowed his eyes at Seamus. "Are you leaving?"

Seamus shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "This ball thing is dumb. So overrated."

"I know," Dean said. Then he grinned suddenly. "But it was worth it to see Harry dancing."

Seamus cracked up. "And tripping over his dress robes when he tried to stand up."

Dean snorted, and before they knew it, they were both roaring with laughter. Something in Seamus's chest grew wings and soared. This was what he loved about being friends with Dean; a single glance between them could make him laugh until he cried. It didn't have to be something especially funny. Most of the time, it wasn't that funny. But one of them would always set the other one off, and they'd laugh until their stomachs cramped up.

This time was different, though. They both stopped laughing abruptly, a wedge of awkwardness between them. Dean looked at Seamus, and Seamus saw fear in his familiar face. Someone who didn't know Dean well wouldn't have spotted it, but to Seamus it was as obvious as a glaring neon sign.

Dean opened his mouth slightly, as if to speak, then bit his lip.

"What?" Seamus said.

Dean exhaled slowly, steeling himself. Something writhed in Seamus's stomach at the thought of what Dean might be about to say. Was he nervous? Why was he nervous?

"Look, Seamus –" Dean started, but at that moment, Dean's date from Beauxbatons appeared beside them out of nowhere, as if she'd Apparated to their side.

"Céline," Dean said, stunned.

"Dean!" she said, smiling at him, her face flushed from dancing. "Where deed you go?"

Seamus looked at her wide blue eyes, her dimples, her Cupid's bow lips. He looked at her and he hated her. For reasons he couldn't explain, she stirred a feeling of visceral dislike in him. He wondered if it showed on his face.

"I – I just went to the bathroom," Dean said. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, but Céline didn't seem to notice.

"Oh," she said brightly. "Okay. Come on, let's dance. I love thees song!" And just like that, she grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him back towards the dance floor. Dean glanced over his shoulder at Seamus as he was dragged away, his expression apologetic.

Seamus was left standing alone by the doors. He felt himself scowling and quickly smoothed his features into a neutral mask. Why was he so angry anyway? Because Dean was dancing with his date while Lavender was more interested in Parvati than him? But he wasn't just angry. Even though he didn't want to admit it to himself, he was upset.

"Seamus? Are you all right?"

It was Neville, red-faced and beaming, Ginny Weasley beside him. He was clutching two Butterbeers while Ginny massaged her feet. Seamus had seen Neville stepping on them clumsily while they danced.

"Fine," Seamus said sourly. The scowl was back.

"We're just going to sit down and have a drink," Neville said cheerfully. "Want to join us?"

"No," Seamus snapped. Neville's smile slipped. Seamus knew he was being rude, but he couldn't help it. He was dealing with his anger the only way he knew how; by lashing out at anyone near him.

Before Neville could respond, Seamus turned on his heel and stormed out of the Great Hall. He walked alone through the silent castle, up empty staircases and along deserted corridors, until he reached the Gryffindor Common Room. There, he sank into an armchair by the fire and stared into the crackling flames, wondering what the hell was wrong with him.