Deamus Fanfiction

Chapter Three

Dean

Dean danced with Céline until his feet ached. Every time she looked at him, he plastered a false smile onto his face and pretended to be having a great time. When she looked away again, he felt his face fall. Everyone else looked happy. Why was he the only one not having fun?

He knew why. Because he'd been about to tell Seamus the truth – he'd been so close – and he'd been interrupted. He'd felt the words on his tongue, clamouring to escape. He'd felt himself about to be unburdened, for better or for worse, of his secret. But it was still lodged in his chest like a stone, heavy and solid. He'd never get another opportunity like that again. He'd never get a rush of courage like that again.

It wasn't his feelings for Seamus that he was afraid of. It was how Seamus would react if he knew. What if he didn't feel the same way? Then their friendship would be ruined, and Seamus's friendship was the most important thing in Dean's life. He'd never sacrifice it for anything. But if there was a chance that he wasn't the only one keeping a secret...

Suddenly Dean couldn't take it anymore. He stopped dancing. Céline looked at him, puzzled. He beckoned her to come with him, and weaved his way carefully off the dance floor. When they were out of the maze of sweaty bodies and flailing arms, he turned to her. She was wearing a baby blue dress, and she really did look very pretty. He hadn't noticed before.

"Ees sometheeng wrong?" she asked, frowning.

"No," he said. "I just – I don't feel well. I think I should go. Call it a night. I'm sorry."

She scrutinised him for a moment, her head tilted to one side. "Dean," she said. "Deed you want to come here wiz me tonight?"

"What do you mean?" Dean said, taken aback.

"You wanted to come wiz your friend, deedn't you?"

"My – what friend?" Dean couldn't believe she was so perceptive. Were his feelings that transparent? He'd thought he was good at hiding them; had he been wrong all along?

"Eet's okay," Céline said, smiling. "I'm sure I can find someone else to dance wiz me. Bonsoir, Dean." She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Then she turned around and dissolved back into the crowd on the dance floor. Within seconds, a boy from Beauxbatons was dancing with her.

Dean turned around slowly, still reeling from that unexpected exchange, and scanned the Great Hall for Lavender. He found her in a corner, deep in conversation with Parvati.

"Hey," he said. "D'you know where Seamus is?"

Lavender blinked at him, as though she hadn't even noticed Seamus wasn't there. "Oh," she said. "Um. I don't know. Maybe the bathroom?"

Dean felt a prickle of irritation. "He didn't say where he was going?" he asked.

Lavender shrugged, shook her head, and turned back to Parvati.

"Are you looking for Seamus?" Neville asked. He was sitting at the next table with Ron's sister Ginny. He had a Butterbeer moustache on his upper lip but didn't seem to know or care.

"Yeah," Dean said. "Have you seen him?"

"He left," Neville said. "I think he was going back to the common room."

"Thanks, mate," Dean said, and walked quickly towards the doors. Outside the Great Hall, the castle was silent and deserted. The only movement, apart from Dean himself, was the staircases moving every so often. As he passed a suit of armour, it burst into the chorus of "God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs".