Longing for You - Deamus

Nightmares

"Dean," Seamus tentatively rested a hand on the his best friend's shoulder, "it's time to go, bud." Dean nodded slowly and got up off of his knees, his gaze still fixed on the lifeless corpse of the old Headmaster.

Although it wasn't widely known, Dean and Dumbledore had had a special relationship. It began in Dean's first week at Hogwarts; he had spent his lunchtime alone, crying his eyes out in a deserted classroom. It wasn't easy being a muggle born student at Hogwarts, especially when having to endure Draco Malfoy's constant imperialistic chants of pureblood supremacy. Another thing that really wasn't helping his situation was the way that Hermione Granger just made it look so... easy. That girl seemed to know everything, despite her muggle upbringing and Dean was completely bemused by this! To him, it seemed impossible! He had barely even come to terms with the fact that magic existed; how the hell was he supposed to be able to do a levitating charm?

His thoughts had been interrupted by a low cough from the doorway of the classroom; he spun around immediately, his eyes still red and glistening with tears. There stood an unexpected sight. Professor Dumbledore seemed to tower majestically in the door frame, peering at him over his half moon spectacles.

"Ah, Mr Thomas. Would you like a sherbet lemon?"

Dean was taken aback. It had been a while since he'd been offered a sweet that didn't have an alien name like fizzing whizbees, liquorice wands or the even more unnerving, cockroach clusters. Sherbet lemons were a muggle sweet, a reminder of home, of his simpler life and instantly he let out a choked sob.

"Now, now Dean. What seems to be the matter?" said Dumbledore, moving to take a seat on a desk next to the boy. He rested a hand on Dean's back, which was a slight comfort.

"I don't fit in here, I don't know any magic and I don't think I want to be here anymore," he sobbed. "I don't suppose there's a support system here for muggle-born kids who don't really belong here?"

"Mr Thomas, just because you were born to non-magical parents should in no way suggest that you don't belong here at Hogwarts. You know as much magic as every other first year, with the exception of maybe Miss Granger. And do you know why that is? Magic is something that comes from within, it is not taught, only revealed and for some it comes easier than others but that should not mean that you should give up. You, Dean, are just as magical as anybody here.

And yes, there is a support system of sorts; it's called the Hogwarts faculty. See, if you have a problem, no matter how small, we can help you. Help is always given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

Dean felt strangely comforted by his wise words. It was nice to know that there were so many people willing to help him and he suddenly felt a whole lot more confident about practising magic than he was before

"Oh and Mr Thomas," Dumbledore started, "how are you finding your dorm mates to be?"

"Uh, they're nice I guess. A bit hyper at times but they make me laugh so that makes up for it" Dean smiled, thinking about his best friend Seamus in particular.

"Good good, I had hoped that you'd all get along. I sensed that you might particularly enjoy the company of one Mr Finnigan." Dumbledore left with a wink and Dean tried to process what this meant, desperately trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks.

***

The common room was filled with a somber silence that evening. No one was joking around like they normally did, no one was even talking. A few people seemed to be trying to finish off some vastly overdue homework assignments and failing spectacularly, often finding themselves staring out of windows with tears falling down their cheeks.

Harry, in particular was looking dishevelled and the dark circles around his eyes were more prominent than ever. He didn't seem to notice the repetitive motion of his girlfriend's comforting fingers tracing circles on the back of his hand.

Suddenly, Dean felt a wash of sadness and fatigue sweep over him. He could really use a hug right now and was slightly regretting his decision to break up with Ginny last year. Remembering the rather animated arguments that they had gotten into though, he settled on a 3 month long nap instead.

"Hey Sea, I think I'm gonna go up to bed, it's been a tough day," he whispered to his best friend.

"Want company?" Seamus replied, softly.

Dean just nodded in response, unable to form any more coherent sentences and they headed up the stairs to their dormitory.

Soon enough, the boys were tucked into bed, just like they had been every night for the past 7 years.

"G'night Dean" Seamus, muttered sleepily.

"Night Sea" Dean replied, before almost immediately falling unconscious.

***

Dean woke up screaming. Images of flashing green light and people running and flames licking their way up the walls of Hogwarts shot through his mind and in front of his eyes. Death was all around him, so much death.

Only a few moments later, he felt someone climb onto his bed. A pair of arms found their way around his waist and then came the familiar Irish voice.

"Shh bud, it's okay. Everything's gonna be okay." Seamus rocked Dean in his arms until his screams turned into whimpers and then he finally fell quiet. He tucked Dean back into bed and let him settle down but instead of getting back into his own bed, Seamus climbed in next to his best friend, tracing small circles on his back until he fell to sleep. As soon as Sea heard the peaceful snores of slumber, he pressed his lips onto Deans upper back.

"Night Dean," he whispered.

('>')

Hi there pals! So I started a Deamus fic cos I was craving writing (sorrynotsorry). It's going to be mostly fluff so look forward to that!

I swear I'm gonna try my best to actually finish this one, I'm feeling dedicated :)