(no subject)
Who: Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan
Where: Seamus's Flat
When: July 12th
Status: Complete
Seamus barely raised his head when the knock sounded. He had no idea how long he'd been sitting at the table. Checking his wards, he saw that it was Dean outside and he quickly crossed the room and opened the door. The temptation to just reach out, embrace Dean and hold on for dear life was strong but so was the quest to put a bit of distance between them, to stop relying so much on Dean's opinion and Dean himself. Another 'damned if he did, damned if he didn't' moment and he hesitated in the doorway, hand still on the knob. His head pounded and the cuts on his face - from where he'd fallen during his most recent meeting with the Dark Lord and getting his newest assignment - itched.
"Good to see you, come on in." He waved his hand as he stepped back into the flat.
As soon as Dean entered the flat, he saw the state Seamus's face was in and was reaching out to touch it when he saw the hesitation in his stance. Dean's hand stopped mid-movement and then his fingers were under the chin, lifting Seamus's face while Dean observed it with a frown.
"Bellatrix?" he asked with barely concealed anger. Dean was hating more and more this situation where Seamus acted as a double agent and he could do nothing to help him. Plus, the change in their relationship was making Dean more and more protective and he knew that wasn't a good thing for either of them.
"Don't need Bellatrix when the Dark Lord's around. Gave me an order, didn't much care for my response." Seamus tried to brush off the concern but failed miserably as he held onto Dean's hand under his chin. "Ain't the worst of it, have to say. Me head's pounding and these cuts itch like fuck, mate. I'll be good in a bit, not the worst shape 've been in."
Seamus's other hand reached out and grabbed at Dean's unoccupied hand. "I'll be fine, yeah? Just have a couple of things I need to do. Let me close the door and I'll tell you about it." Giving a quick squeeze, Seamus released Dean's hands and shut the door before going to the kitchen and finding a couple of bottles of beer. He didn't even offer, he just popped the tops and handed one over.
It wasn't reassuring to hear this hadn't been the first time Seamus had been hurt like that and not even the worse. Dean wondered how he had dealt with his life for so long and had had even doubts about leaving the Death Eaters. He let go of Seamus's chin and looked away for a moment.
Then, Dean walked into the room while Seamus brought him a beer. A piece of torn paper caught his eyes as he could read the words 'Order' and 'Dean' clearly in it. He almost picked it up, but then Seamus was back and he found himself with a beer in his hand and sat on the sofa they've been in last time Dean had visited. "So, what's going on?" he said and wondered if it was related to what he'd seen written.
"Right to the point, yeah?" Seamus saluted with the beer. "Had a visit from your girl. She's a right bitch, that one. Asked me to do the impossible and thought I was selfish and a coward for not agreeing to do it. Had a meeting with the Dark Lord before that, wanting me to do my part for Muggle politics. Always knew not voting would cause me problems." Seamus tried for a droll tone but didn't quite succeed. He was being an idiot, standing near Dean and not wanting to get too far. Practise, he thought to himself and then made himself walk across the room to stare out the window at the street below. Leaning his head against the glass, he whispered, "This's more than we thought, mate."
Dean smiled at Seamus's words, even though he knew the meaning behind them was not funny at all, but he wanted to help Seamus improve the mood. Dean watched him stand and pace over the room, even though he wanted to tell him to sit by his side, but he didn't: he just watched and did nothing until Seamus spoke by the window. At that moment, Dean stood, walked towards Seamus, and placed his hands over his shoulders, a friendly gesture except for the way his thumbs were caressing Seamus's nape.
"She asked you to get the blood," it wasn't a question: Seamus's words could mean nothing but that. "I didn't know He was involved in Muggle politics..." The repercussions that could have did not escape Dean. "I'm--" he almost said 'sorry', but he felt he'd said that too often lately, and didn't quite describe his feelings about the situation, so he just trailed off and asked, "what are you going to do?"
"You knew about that?" Seamus leaned into the touch. "It's impossible, completely impossible. I'm not much for suicide and that's what the request is. It's insanity, mate. Just switching one dark lord for another. At least this one, we know what he's like, what he's capable of."
Seamus stepped back and pressed against Dean. "I don't remember Potter, not much beyond a fight in Fifth Year when I didn't believe him about the Dark Lord. He failed before, Dean, why would it be different this time around?"
"I knew about it," admitted Dean, "but I suppose I always thought you wouldn't have to do it yourself. That there'd be another way... You can always refuse." A part of Dean hoped Seamus would refuse because he knew it was suicide, just as his friend had just said. But Dean also knew the Dark Lord shouldn't win, and Harry was the only one who had stopped him in the past. "You know Harry's not a Dark Lord... or you would if you'd remember all the years we spent together in the dorm besides that fight. He'd never hurt your family -- or mine -- and if the Dark Lord is getting involved into Muggle politics..." Dean welcomed the heat of Seamus's body and embraced his waist, while his words got lost on the sandy hair that tickled his lips. "Harry's been able to stop him before, maybe not to kill him but there must be a way."
"That was Harry then. What about Harry after he gets a bit of the Dark Lord's madness? What about then?" Seamus put his hands over Dean's arms and then whispered, "You don't know what he's like, don't know what he's capable of. He's a slick one, he's got all the cards and he's playing everyone against the other. There's no way that can't taint a person, no matter how good and noble you think Potter was."
Seamus looked out the window and then sighed. "The Muggle's easy, nothing I haven't done before and it'll bring me in, I'll be by meself for the mission and won't have to worry about anyone else messing things up. When I'm out..." Seamus's voice trailed off as he thought about his offer, "When I'm out, you want that I check on your family? It'd be almost official, maybe I could take a message from you to them so they know that you're alright?"
"I hope it won't taint Harry, but this is dark magic and I can't be sure... But even if he's not the same he was before, he won't be worse than you-know-who." He kissed Seamus's head distractedly. "You know that. He's our only hope."
"I'm not as worried about the Muggle as about the Dark Lord's plans to take over the Muggle world." Dean tightened his arms around Seamus and remembered his family. He missed them too much. "I-- don't know. Only if it's safe... tell them that I haven't forgotten them, that I love them and that I don't know when I'll be able to see them myself. Just... be careful, for you and for them."
"But he could be worse, much worse because the Dark Lord's so much worse now, yeah?" Seamus squeezed Dean's wrists at the touch on his head, giving up on putting distance between them. "Dark Lord's always been after the Muggles, now's no different. Better hope your Order's able to stop him."
Seamus made a note in his head of the message. Then he remembered the paper on his table, "Want to write it so they know it's you? There's parchment over there and it might be better coming from your hand instead of me reciting it. It'd be more proof for them to believe it or something. It'll be safe, you'll see."
"I trust Hermione to know what she's doing. I doubt she would risk us all if she thought there was a chance of Harry being worse than the Dark Lord or that the two of them would merge. It's our only chance, mate."
The idea of actually writing to his parents seemed so unreal after all this time. "Yes, I'd like to." He walked over the table and grabbed a piece of paper, while the only thought in his mind was that his parents would touch that in the future. He wrote some words carefully, with the absurd idea that his parents would not admit a hastily scribbled letter. When it was done, he stared at it, trying to decide if he should add something else, but then the pieces of paper with his name on it caught his attention, and carefully arranged them and read them.
It just couldn't be true. Seamus could not be thinking about...
Seamus continued to stare out the window as he heard the quill scribble across the parchment. He'd give Dean his privacy to write his letter. He grabbed his bottle off the window ledge and sipped at it as he watched people walk along the pavement. When the quill stopped, he waited just a couple more minutes and then turned, bumping his knee on a table. Cursing as the corner went into the bruising on his knee, "Christ Almighty!" , he limped to the sofa and sat down. "Gotta stop being so damn clutzy."
Dean was startled by the noise and he turned to look at Seamus. "Shay, I--" He had almost asked about what he had just read, but if Seamus was thinking about betraying the Order, he wouldn't keep the letter around where he could read it and wouldn't have torn it, would he? But their recent conversation about Harry and how the plan could fail terribly, was too vivid in his mind. He cleared his throat and handed the letter, "here you have it. Now I have to go." He needed to think about what he had read and decide to do something about it, even if that was just letting Seamus explain his actions.
It was so abrupt that Seamus hadn't a clue why Dean would want to leave so quickly. Perhaps he was a bit overwhelmed at the idea of his family hearing from him? "Yeah, alright."
Seamus stood and then limped over to the door. He suddenly felt very awkward as he stood there. "I'll let you know how it goes, then. I'll owl or something?"
Seamus's limp reminded Dean of how he had been tortured recently by the Dark Lord, and he couldn't restrain himself from kissing him lightly. "Be careful, mate. And yes, owl me, even if it's just to tell me how your wounds are." Seamus didn't know the location of the headquarters, did he? Suddenly, the urge to leave was too much and he stepped back. "I'll owl you."
The kiss wasn't enough but Seamus let it go. Better to put a bit of distance here so he'd stop relying on Dean for everything. Besides, it wasn't like they'd really talked about the changes between them or anything else. Not the time and not the place and, besides, Seamus wouldn't put his own insecurities on Dean. Dean had enough problems and if writing to his family made him want to leave, than that was what he could do. "Aye, alright. Be safe."
Seamus touched his lips to Dean's cheek and then pulled back and opened the door. He watched as Dean walked down the hall and then slipped back into his own flat. Without another thought, he slipped into bed and let the exhausting day sweep him into sleep.
Where: Seamus's Flat
When: July 12th
Status: Complete
Seamus barely raised his head when the knock sounded. He had no idea how long he'd been sitting at the table. Checking his wards, he saw that it was Dean outside and he quickly crossed the room and opened the door. The temptation to just reach out, embrace Dean and hold on for dear life was strong but so was the quest to put a bit of distance between them, to stop relying so much on Dean's opinion and Dean himself. Another 'damned if he did, damned if he didn't' moment and he hesitated in the doorway, hand still on the knob. His head pounded and the cuts on his face - from where he'd fallen during his most recent meeting with the Dark Lord and getting his newest assignment - itched.
"Good to see you, come on in." He waved his hand as he stepped back into the flat.
As soon as Dean entered the flat, he saw the state Seamus's face was in and was reaching out to touch it when he saw the hesitation in his stance. Dean's hand stopped mid-movement and then his fingers were under the chin, lifting Seamus's face while Dean observed it with a frown.
"Bellatrix?" he asked with barely concealed anger. Dean was hating more and more this situation where Seamus acted as a double agent and he could do nothing to help him. Plus, the change in their relationship was making Dean more and more protective and he knew that wasn't a good thing for either of them.
"Don't need Bellatrix when the Dark Lord's around. Gave me an order, didn't much care for my response." Seamus tried to brush off the concern but failed miserably as he held onto Dean's hand under his chin. "Ain't the worst of it, have to say. Me head's pounding and these cuts itch like fuck, mate. I'll be good in a bit, not the worst shape 've been in."
Seamus's other hand reached out and grabbed at Dean's unoccupied hand. "I'll be fine, yeah? Just have a couple of things I need to do. Let me close the door and I'll tell you about it." Giving a quick squeeze, Seamus released Dean's hands and shut the door before going to the kitchen and finding a couple of bottles of beer. He didn't even offer, he just popped the tops and handed one over.
It wasn't reassuring to hear this hadn't been the first time Seamus had been hurt like that and not even the worse. Dean wondered how he had dealt with his life for so long and had had even doubts about leaving the Death Eaters. He let go of Seamus's chin and looked away for a moment.
Then, Dean walked into the room while Seamus brought him a beer. A piece of torn paper caught his eyes as he could read the words 'Order' and 'Dean' clearly in it. He almost picked it up, but then Seamus was back and he found himself with a beer in his hand and sat on the sofa they've been in last time Dean had visited. "So, what's going on?" he said and wondered if it was related to what he'd seen written.
"Right to the point, yeah?" Seamus saluted with the beer. "Had a visit from your girl. She's a right bitch, that one. Asked me to do the impossible and thought I was selfish and a coward for not agreeing to do it. Had a meeting with the Dark Lord before that, wanting me to do my part for Muggle politics. Always knew not voting would cause me problems." Seamus tried for a droll tone but didn't quite succeed. He was being an idiot, standing near Dean and not wanting to get too far. Practise, he thought to himself and then made himself walk across the room to stare out the window at the street below. Leaning his head against the glass, he whispered, "This's more than we thought, mate."
Dean smiled at Seamus's words, even though he knew the meaning behind them was not funny at all, but he wanted to help Seamus improve the mood. Dean watched him stand and pace over the room, even though he wanted to tell him to sit by his side, but he didn't: he just watched and did nothing until Seamus spoke by the window. At that moment, Dean stood, walked towards Seamus, and placed his hands over his shoulders, a friendly gesture except for the way his thumbs were caressing Seamus's nape.
"She asked you to get the blood," it wasn't a question: Seamus's words could mean nothing but that. "I didn't know He was involved in Muggle politics..." The repercussions that could have did not escape Dean. "I'm--" he almost said 'sorry', but he felt he'd said that too often lately, and didn't quite describe his feelings about the situation, so he just trailed off and asked, "what are you going to do?"
"You knew about that?" Seamus leaned into the touch. "It's impossible, completely impossible. I'm not much for suicide and that's what the request is. It's insanity, mate. Just switching one dark lord for another. At least this one, we know what he's like, what he's capable of."
Seamus stepped back and pressed against Dean. "I don't remember Potter, not much beyond a fight in Fifth Year when I didn't believe him about the Dark Lord. He failed before, Dean, why would it be different this time around?"
"I knew about it," admitted Dean, "but I suppose I always thought you wouldn't have to do it yourself. That there'd be another way... You can always refuse." A part of Dean hoped Seamus would refuse because he knew it was suicide, just as his friend had just said. But Dean also knew the Dark Lord shouldn't win, and Harry was the only one who had stopped him in the past. "You know Harry's not a Dark Lord... or you would if you'd remember all the years we spent together in the dorm besides that fight. He'd never hurt your family -- or mine -- and if the Dark Lord is getting involved into Muggle politics..." Dean welcomed the heat of Seamus's body and embraced his waist, while his words got lost on the sandy hair that tickled his lips. "Harry's been able to stop him before, maybe not to kill him but there must be a way."
"That was Harry then. What about Harry after he gets a bit of the Dark Lord's madness? What about then?" Seamus put his hands over Dean's arms and then whispered, "You don't know what he's like, don't know what he's capable of. He's a slick one, he's got all the cards and he's playing everyone against the other. There's no way that can't taint a person, no matter how good and noble you think Potter was."
Seamus looked out the window and then sighed. "The Muggle's easy, nothing I haven't done before and it'll bring me in, I'll be by meself for the mission and won't have to worry about anyone else messing things up. When I'm out..." Seamus's voice trailed off as he thought about his offer, "When I'm out, you want that I check on your family? It'd be almost official, maybe I could take a message from you to them so they know that you're alright?"
"I hope it won't taint Harry, but this is dark magic and I can't be sure... But even if he's not the same he was before, he won't be worse than you-know-who." He kissed Seamus's head distractedly. "You know that. He's our only hope."
"I'm not as worried about the Muggle as about the Dark Lord's plans to take over the Muggle world." Dean tightened his arms around Seamus and remembered his family. He missed them too much. "I-- don't know. Only if it's safe... tell them that I haven't forgotten them, that I love them and that I don't know when I'll be able to see them myself. Just... be careful, for you and for them."
"But he could be worse, much worse because the Dark Lord's so much worse now, yeah?" Seamus squeezed Dean's wrists at the touch on his head, giving up on putting distance between them. "Dark Lord's always been after the Muggles, now's no different. Better hope your Order's able to stop him."
Seamus made a note in his head of the message. Then he remembered the paper on his table, "Want to write it so they know it's you? There's parchment over there and it might be better coming from your hand instead of me reciting it. It'd be more proof for them to believe it or something. It'll be safe, you'll see."
"I trust Hermione to know what she's doing. I doubt she would risk us all if she thought there was a chance of Harry being worse than the Dark Lord or that the two of them would merge. It's our only chance, mate."
The idea of actually writing to his parents seemed so unreal after all this time. "Yes, I'd like to." He walked over the table and grabbed a piece of paper, while the only thought in his mind was that his parents would touch that in the future. He wrote some words carefully, with the absurd idea that his parents would not admit a hastily scribbled letter. When it was done, he stared at it, trying to decide if he should add something else, but then the pieces of paper with his name on it caught his attention, and carefully arranged them and read them.
It just couldn't be true. Seamus could not be thinking about...
Seamus continued to stare out the window as he heard the quill scribble across the parchment. He'd give Dean his privacy to write his letter. He grabbed his bottle off the window ledge and sipped at it as he watched people walk along the pavement. When the quill stopped, he waited just a couple more minutes and then turned, bumping his knee on a table. Cursing as the corner went into the bruising on his knee, "Christ Almighty!" , he limped to the sofa and sat down. "Gotta stop being so damn clutzy."
Dean was startled by the noise and he turned to look at Seamus. "Shay, I--" He had almost asked about what he had just read, but if Seamus was thinking about betraying the Order, he wouldn't keep the letter around where he could read it and wouldn't have torn it, would he? But their recent conversation about Harry and how the plan could fail terribly, was too vivid in his mind. He cleared his throat and handed the letter, "here you have it. Now I have to go." He needed to think about what he had read and decide to do something about it, even if that was just letting Seamus explain his actions.
It was so abrupt that Seamus hadn't a clue why Dean would want to leave so quickly. Perhaps he was a bit overwhelmed at the idea of his family hearing from him? "Yeah, alright."
Seamus stood and then limped over to the door. He suddenly felt very awkward as he stood there. "I'll let you know how it goes, then. I'll owl or something?"
Seamus's limp reminded Dean of how he had been tortured recently by the Dark Lord, and he couldn't restrain himself from kissing him lightly. "Be careful, mate. And yes, owl me, even if it's just to tell me how your wounds are." Seamus didn't know the location of the headquarters, did he? Suddenly, the urge to leave was too much and he stepped back. "I'll owl you."
The kiss wasn't enough but Seamus let it go. Better to put a bit of distance here so he'd stop relying on Dean for everything. Besides, it wasn't like they'd really talked about the changes between them or anything else. Not the time and not the place and, besides, Seamus wouldn't put his own insecurities on Dean. Dean had enough problems and if writing to his family made him want to leave, than that was what he could do. "Aye, alright. Be safe."
Seamus touched his lips to Dean's cheek and then pulled back and opened the door. He watched as Dean walked down the hall and then slipped back into his own flat. Without another thought, he slipped into bed and let the exhausting day sweep him into sleep.