Belladonna

Belladonna

The sandy-haired Gryffindor, leaning precariously back in his chair, attempted to balance a pencil on his nose which only resulted in his bright blue eyes crossing and making him look even more ridiculus than usual. His best friend, a slim black boy by the name of Dean Thomas, sighed in exasperation and looked heavenward as if expecting a hand to reach down and knock some sense into the crazy Irish boy.

Trelawney hovered about the room like a giant moth, inspecting the scrying pools they’d been working on for the past half hour, muttering comments here and there about the usage of different types of crushed plants and their effects on predictions. He snorted, ignoring the odd look that Lavendar Brown shot him, and pretended to be intently studying his bowl as the loopy old witch passed by.

“Oh my! I must say, that is quite the unusual combination you have there, Mr. Finnegan!” she exclaimed, leaning over to peer a little closer into the water. She tutted, searching about her quickly, then at last pulled a small vial of a deep red liquid out of one large, billuous sleeve. “Ah! Here it is! Now, what do you boys suppose will happen if I add three drops of belladonna to your scrying pool?”

Seamus bit his lip, trying to think of a good response. “Er…”

Fortunately for him, Dean seemed to know the answer. “It’ll activate whatever weird stuff Seamus has been brewing in there.”

“Precisely!” she chirped, smiling delightedly at Dean. Seamus wasn’t quite sure whether to glare or snicker, so he settled on waiting for the Proffessor to act. He didn’t have long to wait, as her long, bony fingers quickly uncorked the small bottle, and three small, blood-like drops fell into the glassy surface of the water, mingling with the small petals and chopped leaves he’d absent-mindedly tossed in earlier. The dark liquid swirled, quickly overtaking the glossy pool, and soon crimson mist was seeping out of the bowl, crawling over his desk like red vines.

By now the entire class was watching in fascination as the tendrils writhed across the desk, working their way like bloody fingers, straining for him. His first instinct was to move, but he found himself riveted to the spot, staring morbidly at the mist as it wrapped around him, icy cold and yet making his skin burn all at once. There was a low murmur of voices in the background, but the only one he was really aware of was Dean’s, as he felt darkness come rushing up at him, and he collapsed backwards, the floor rushing up to meet him.

He blinked his eyes open, sitting up slowly and staring stupidly at his surroundings. There were lots of people talking all around him, and Trelawney’s reedy voice was commanding them to return to their seats. He was still in the Divinations classroom, apparently, so he hadn’t been out long. What on earth had happened? He could remember the mist, but why did it make him pass out like that? He had the sudden, sinking feeling that something rather bad had just happened.

Dean was kneeling beside him, looking concerned and still trying to remain nonchalant about the whole situation. He grinned at him, and a slow, small smile graced his friend’s features. For some reason completely beyond his knowledge, that tiny action made his heart sumersault in his chest, and he watched the other boy a bit oddly, trying to figure out where these sudden emotions were coming from. And also wondering just why the hell he never noticed how cute his best friend was before.

Whoah. Hold up. Cute? Well, it was no secret which side of the fence Seamus Finnegan tended to swing on, but Dean? The guy was almost painfully straight. Well, he thought so anyway… it was kinda hard to tell with Dean, and that topic of conversation had somehow never come up.

In any case, the sudden attraction to the black boy was a little unnerving, but being the kind of guy he was, he simply shrugged and slung an arm around his friend’s neck, looking up at him innocently.

“Oh, Dean, I’ve got one helluva headache,” he moaned, leaning against the other boy. “Wanna take me back to the dorm?”

Dean gave him suspicious look, but before he had a chance to question him, Trelawney cut in. “Oh, you poor thing! Mr. Thomas, take him up to his room right away! After such an experience! My goodness, I’ve never seen anyone react quite like that to the belladonna, even with Walpurgis so near…”

“Wal-what?” Seamus asked intelligently.

“Walpurgis Night. Good Heaven’s, what are they teaching you children these days?” She threw her hands up in despair. “A wizard not even knowing the old holidays… it’s a crime!”

“Riiiight… Uh, Dean, whaddya say we go back to the dorm now?”

Dean nodded. “Weird old coot. Who knows what she’s going on about this time…”

Dean helped him up, seeming not to mind, or notice the fact that Seamus’ arm was still thrown over his shoulder. They left the musty room, amidst the curious gazes of their classmates, and stumbled down the empty halls to the Gryffindor Tower. He yawned; he’d been up late last night, thanks to one Harry Potter and his late night excursions (he was *still* dying to know just who the Boy Who Lived was sneaking out to see, but had yet to figure it out).

“Tired?” Dean asked, stating the obvious as per usual.

“Ya think?”

Dean nodded. “Harry again, right?”

“Yeah…” he trailed off,  mind slipping away from his roommate to the previous experiences of the last twenty minutes. “What do you think happened back there, anyway? You ever heard of Wal-whatever, before?”

“Nope, and you’re the one from the Wizard family, so if either of us knew it should’ve been you,” Dean remarked. “You looked really weird before you passed out, too… and you kept muttering all this strange stuff…”

“Strange stuff? What’d I say?”

He bit his lip in concentration. “Uh… I dunno, one of the words kinda sounded like ‘mallacht’ or something… that Gaelic?”

Seamus arched a brow at him. “Are you sure that’s what I said?”

“Yeah, positive. Why, what’s it mean?”

He glared at him. “You better not be making this up.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “How could I do that? I don’t know a single word of Gaelic except for ‘Caed Mile Faelta’ that you put on that card for St. Patrick’s day last year.”

“It mean’s cursed,” he mumbled. “You don’t think that something bad happened, do you?”

“Well, you’re still breathing, right?” He glared. Dean snickered. “Guess if you croak we can all finally get rid of Trelawney. I’m sure everyone will be incredibly grateful.”

“Grateful?”

“Oh come now, we all have to make a few sacrifices in life.”

Glare. “And I’m one of those sacrifices?!”

The common room was pretty much deserted except for a single seventh year in the back, who was scribbling furiously onto a long scroll, her short brown hair bobbing up and down as she wrote. Since it was pretty quiet, and Seamus didn’t feel like climbing the stairs to their room, the two boys sank into a pair of armchairs by the large windows and remained in an unusual silence for a few minutes.

Dean, for some bizarre reason, looked incredibly appealing lounging in the large chair, dark features softened by the sunlight slanting in from outside, his loose robes clinging in all the right places to reveal a muscular, lithe form. Unable to tear his gaze away, Seamus stared rather hungrilly at him, too absorbed in his gawking to ponder the sudden attraction. It only took Dean a few seconds to realize he was being stared at, and he levelled Seamus with an odd look, obviously wondering what the hell he was doing.

“Seamus?”

“Huh?”

“You’re staring at me.”

“Uh-huh.”

Arched brow.

“Why?”

Momentary pause.

“Erm… you’ve got something on your nose?”

Suspicious glare.

“What’s up with you? You’re acting even wackier than Trelawney.”

Seamus fought the urge to be offended, which was incredibly easy, since Dean had just shifted positions and allowed him a few more inches of skin as the collar of his robes hung a little looser. “Dunno. Hey Dean?”

“What?”

Seamus hesitated, wondering whether or not he should ask, considering the fact that he’d been eyeing the other boy like a piece of meat for the past few minutes. Maybe it’d be a better idea to ask him later…

“What do you say we follow Harry tonight?”

“Huh?” It was Dean’s turn for unintelligent Goyle-esque answers.

“Well, I’ve been dying to know who he’s snogging, and I know that you’re just as curious as I am, so why not? It’s got to be better than being woken up again.”

“I don’t know…”

“Oh come on,” Seamus urged, deciding that his spur of the moment decision wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He *had* wanted to do this anyway, so might as well use it as a good excuse to get Dean to think about something other than his odd behavior. “You know you want to. We can go tonight, if he’s going again.”

Dean sighed, obviously searching for an excuse not to go. “Why can’t we just ask him? Or maybe Ron or Hermione?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh please. You don’t think he’d really tell us, do you? And I don’t think Ron knows either. I heard him complaining the other night, and Harry just told him it was insomnia.”

“And what makes *you* think it isn’t?”

“Oh nothing… just the big red hickey on his neck the next day…”

Dean spluttered. “Hickey? On *Harry*?”

Seamus smirked. “Yup. Looked like somebody bit him. Hard.”

If his skin weren’t so dark, Dean’s face would’ve been the same shade of red as a Weasley’s hair. “Okay, okay, you’re right; we’ll go. But how are we going to follow him with that invisibility cloak?”

He smirked again. “Just leave that to me, ol’ buddy.”

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful, even with the Weasley twins latest creation at dinner- a lovely little potion they slipped into the pumpkin juice that gave the first-years cat whiskers. In spite of all the oddity, which was a pretty normal occurrence at Hogwarts, Dean remained uncharacteristically silent through most of the meal. Seamus on the other hand, was practically bouncing in his seat with excitement at the thought of their plans for that night, trying to not-so-subtly watch Harry and try to figure out where his gaze wandered.

As if he were trying to be annoying, Harry’s gaze lingered on 17 different people (well, 17 and a third if you count the Hufflepuff he smiled at for all of two seconds), and Seamus had no clue who his mysterious lover could be. It was just about as exciting as it was frustrating, and served to make him twice as determined as before.

“This is gonna be so much fun!” he ranted, completely ignoring his best friend’s lack of enthusiasm. “Did I tell you what I heard Parvati Patil telling Lavendar about? Parvati heard from Padma, who got it from a Ravenclaw sixth-year, that there’s been a Slytherin sneaking out after hours too! You don’t think-“

His chatter stopped abruptly as he belatedly realized Dean was ignoring him. He glared stonilly at his friend, a little put-off with him for ruining his good mood. “Oh, spit it out already. What’s your problem?”

Dean’s eyes widened, and he looked incredibly uncomfortable, much to Seamus’ delight. “Nothing.”

“Heh, yeah right,” he snorted. “Come on, you can tell me!”

“Sure, Seamus ‘Big Mouth’ Finnegan,” he retorted, quite clearly annoyed. Seamus narrowed his eyes at the title.

“All right. You can either tell me what’s going on or not, but any more comments like that one and I’ll knock your teeth out,” he growled.

Dean sighed. “Sorry. I’m just a little… stressed, I guess.”

“Why?”

“I- I don’t really think I can tell you that right now.”

He blinked. “Okay… well, you can talk to me about anything, you know that right?”

He nodded, and Seamus relaxed in his seat, his good mood dampened but not quite dead. “So are you still on for tonight?”

Dean eyed him warilly. “You make that sound surprisingly like a come on.”

Seamus nearly choked, but quickly regained his composure and shot him a cheeky smile. “It can mean whatever you want it to, Dean.”

Increased discomfort.

“Umm…”

Snicker.

“Yeah?”

Blush.

“Is there a reason why you’ve been acting so weird?”

Innocent blink.

“What do you mean, Dean? I was just wondering if you wanted to go tonight. So, do you?”

Suspicious Look.

“Yeah…”

Grin.

“Good! Then let’s get going, we got stuff to do!”

“Alohamora!” Seamus whispered, and the lock fell open with a satisfying clunk.

Dean eyed the trunk warilly as his best friend quickly opened it. “Are you sure this is such a good idea? I really don’t think we should be digging around in Harry’s stuff like this…”

“Oh please, you want to do this just as much as I do,” Seamus replied, completely ignoring Dean’s sudden development of morals as he shuffled through the trunk. After moving a few books, his fingers fell on the shining fabric of the cloak, and he pulled it out with a victorious smirk.

“So what are you going to do with it?” Dean asked, sighing wearilly and glancing between the door and Seamus nervously.

Seamus grinned at him and removed a small sheet of paper from him robe sleeve, and peeled a little red sticker from it. Placing it dead center on the back of the cloak, he replaced it in the trunk and quickly locked it again. “There. Mission accomplished. Now we just have to wait until tonight.”

His friend crossed the room and dropped unceremoniously onto his bed, staring blankly at his football posters. “You know, I probably wouldn’t feel so guilty about this if you didn’t take so much pleasure out of it.”

He rolled his eyes, flopping down next to him on the small twin bed, and trying to ignore the warmth radiating off of Dean’s body. “Well, it’s about time we had a little fun. Especially with Ron and Harry sneaking off to God knows where all the time, and leaving the rest of us in the dark. I think we’re allowed a little mischief every once in awhile, don’t you?”

Dean rolled his eyes and settled back on his pillow, idly remembering the essay for DADA that was due tomorrow, and that he should probably be working on it, but the sandy-haired boy sprawled beside him was causing all rational thought to fly straight out the window along with his sanity. How long had he felt like this around his best friend? A lot longer than he should have, that’s for sure. He shouldn’t have felt anything for him at all, but he never could control himself when he was around the other boy. Seamus was the only one who really understood him, yet at the same time, even he didn’t know about this. Although he had to wonder, with all the burning glances Seamus had been giving him today; his skin burned just at the thought of it.

He shoved those thoughts aside like he always did. Regardless of his own attraction to his friend, they were just that: friends. And he wouldn’t give that up for the world.

By the time midnight finally rolled around, Seamus had practically died of nerves, and Dean was seriously considering not going as his conscience made a first-time-in-his-bloody-life appearance and, needless to say, bugged the hell out of him with the moral issues of spying on a friend and roommate. After all, shouldn’t Harry be allowed to keep some parts of his life private without the rest of them prying? But one look at the excited azure blue eyes of Seamus Finnegan and those doubts were firmly squashed into non-existance.

He’d gotten soft somewhere along the way of falling for the other boy.

His breath caught in his chest as he heard the quiet rustle of fabric as Harry pulled apart the curtains around his bed, and his feet padded nearly silent across the cold wooden floor as he tiptoed over to the door and slipped out. Dean was on his feet in an instant, and nearly ran into Seamus as the two of them hurried over to the door.

The little red dot was incredibly hard to follow in the dark, red-furnished Gryffindor common room, but it wasn’t too difficult to figure out where he was headed, so they waited till the portrait hole swung shut before dashing out of the corner and into the quiet, empty halls.

The air outside the common room was frigid, and the boys wrapped their arms around themselves in a futile attempt at preserving some of their body heat as they rushed along silently, trying to keep the little red dot in sight. After a few minutes it was apparent that their destination was the Astronomy Tower (to which Seamus smirked triumphantly), and they tried to keep far enough behind Harry, who seemed to be ignorant of his followers due to anticipation.

At last Harry seemed to arrive at wherever it was he’d been going, which turned out to be a small wooden door in an old corridor that was thick with dust. He knocked three times, then slipped into the room, leaving Seamus and Dean alone in the shadows of the pitch-black hallway.

“So now what?” Dean whispered beside him, and Seamus shivered as he felt his friend’s breath ghost across the nape of his neck.

“Now we wait. They have to leave eventually, and then we’ll see who comes out of the room after Harry.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “But that could take all night!”

“So? You got something better to do?”

His friend glared at him. “It’s called sleep, you git. You should try it some time.”

Seamus sniffed. “Well, I suggest you get comfortable. We might be here for a while.”

Dean shot him a dark look, and then kneeled down in the dark corner, Seamus settling down beside him. The cold seemed to seep out of the dusty floorboards, making them shiver worse than before, and Seamus unconciously leaned back against the warmth of his friend’s body. Dean tensed when he felt Seamus lean against his shoulder, but relaxed a moment later, his nonchalant attitude firmly in place despite the close proximity.

Seamus closed his eyes, resting back against his friend, the silence now comfortable between them. ‘Damn but he smells good…’ Seamus thought to himself, drawing in a deep breath. Dean smelled musky, and a little like cinnamon. Even in the darkness, he could still make out the smooth skin of the other boy’s neck, the perfect column sloping down to broad, leanly muscled shoulders and chocolate skin that disappeared beneath the neck of his black robes.

“Seamus? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Dean’s dangerously calm voice, broke through his muddled thoughts, and he suddenly realized where his right hand had slipped off to. Glancing down, he realized it had wandered over to rest on Dean’s inner thigh, a little too far up to be decent. Blushing furiously, he snatched his hand back as if he had been burned, looking everywhere but at Dean.

“Er… sorry…”

His friend seemed to snap, jumping up from where he was sitting and startling Seamus,  who, knocked unbalanced, toppled over onto his side. “I want to know what the fuck is going on, and I want to know *now* Seamus. You’ve been acting weird around me all day, and it’s bloody annoying! So tell me what the hell your problem is!”

The Irish boy leaped up from where he’d been sprawled on the floor, glaring hotly at his best friend, completely unaware that they were both risking getting caught with their shouting. “You’re my fucking problem, you git! I’m sorry! I should’ve known you wouldn’t want some *fag* touching you!”

Dean’s eyes widened. “That has nothing to do with-“

His exclamation was cut short by the sudden hands that pulled them both out of the darkness and directly into the smoldering glare of Professor Snape.

“What are you two doing here at 12:30 at night?” he demanded. He didn’t wait for an answer, continuing on in a steely voice. “Thirty points from Gryffindor, and you will spend the rest of the night in my office cleaning the Potion’s closet!”

Seamus groaned, but promptly shut up at Snape’s warning glare. The lanky professor turned on his heel, dark robes billowing behind him ominously like a thundercloud, and he marched down the hall. The two boys sullenly trudged behind him, avoiding each other’s gazes as they followed Snape down the winding staircases and through the empty halls.

It seemed to take forever to reach the Dungeon’s from the Astronomy Tower, but when they arrived there, Seamus suddenly felt like forever could not have been nearly long enough. Snape immediately pushed them into the closet, barking out orders before disappearing into darkened halls of Hogwarts again, off hunting more unsuspecting students. Seamus shuffled his feet, studying the floor, unsure of what to say. Dean ignored his discomfort and turned to the bottles set out on the counter before him, sorting through them.

He sighed, running a hand through his messy sandy blond hair. “Dean, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been acting weird and all, and I don’t know why. But I am sorry.”

Dean slumped shoulders he hadn’t known were tense and focused his attention on the bottles. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have asked you that. And you know that I don’t care about you being gay.”

“Yeah, I know. I was just mad,” Seamus answered, and moved closer, placing a few of the bottles in one of the empty cabinets. “Listen, Dean, about you’re question: I-“

A hand touched his lips, and he froze, blinking at Dean in surprise. The black boy smiled at him reassuringly. “You don’t have to tell me anything. It’s none of my business. Let’s just get this place cleaned up, okay?”

Seamus nodded, forcing a smile. “Sure.”

They worked in relative silence for an hour after that, and soon most of the bottles had been put away. Seamus leaned back against a table in the little room that served as the Potion’s closet, resting as he took a break from organising. His hand came to rest on an open book, and curious he turned to look at it, eyes scanning over the text.

“Hey look! It’s something about that holiday Trelawney was talking about!”

Dean turned, looking over at his friend. “What’s it say?”

Seamus picked up the book, reading aloud. “Walpurgis Night is considered the Wizard and Witch’s sabbath, as well as the only day that the root Belladonna can be harvested. The plant’s properties, when used close to the holiday, can prove incredibly potent and highly dangerous. It can be used for many things, including: divination, love potions, poisons and powerful healing remedies. When called upon, the root is meant to provide a drastic alteration in a wizard or witch’s life. It reveals the deepest needs within a person’s soul, and helps to guide them towards the completion of those desires.”

“Wow,” Dean muttered, looking impressed. “So what do you think happened in class the other day?”

“Well, according to this Walpurgis is tomorrow, so I guess I better keep my eyes open for life altering events,” he replied, then smirked wryly. “And gorgeous young men.”

Dean arched a brow at him. “Why?”

“It said my desires would be satisfied, right?”

Thwack.

“Ow, jeez Dean, what was that for?”

Dean ignored him and turned back to the counter. Seamus watched him in silence for a few minutes, lost in his thoughts. ‘The Belladonna was supposed to reveal your needs and help you get them, right?’ he mused. ‘Would that explain why I’ve been acting this way around Dean?’ His eyes widened at the thought, breath slowing. ‘Do I… need him…?’

He shook his head, several locks of sandy hair falling into his eyes as a result. ‘Impossible! How could I have needed him and then only just now realized it, even if it is the Belladonna stuff? I would’ve noticed it before, right?’ He glanced at his friend, who was frowning at a bottle of dark blue liquid and trying to discern what it was. ‘Dean is straight. So even if I did want him, I wouldn’t stand a chance. Of course, Dean never really showed much interest in anyone, so how am I supposed to know if he really were straight or not? But could I really ask that kind of question?’

“Dean?”

Dean turned to look at him, curious. “Yeah?”

‘Oh shit. Well, better ask him now…’ “Are you gay?”

“What?!”

Seamus looked down, studying his hands intently. “Um, I’m sorry, it’s just been bugging me all this time, and, well, you know me, I just had to ask, so sorry if you’re mad at me, I know I’m probably wrong and all anyways, and it was a stupid question-“

“Seamus.” He glanced up. Dean was watching him cooly. “Shut up.”

“Er… right, sorry.”

He seemed to be debating something, and Seamus watched the expressions that flitted across his face, wondering what Dean was thinking about. Finally, he caught Seamus’ gaze again.

“Why do you want to know?”

Seamus swallowed. “Well, you know, just with this whole Walpurgis thing and everything, and stuff about secret… er…. desires, and well, I just had to know, okay?”

Dean arched a brow at him. “Secret desires?”

He coughed. “Uh, yeah…”

“Seamus, is there something you’re not telling me?”

Seamus looked at him wide-eyed. “No!”

Dean sighed and turned his chocolate eyes down to the floor, looking like he’d just lost a fight with his inner voice. “…Yes.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“Yes. I’m gay.”

Seamus facevaulted. “What?! Really? You’ve been gay this whole time and you never said anything? Dean, you moron!”

His friend looked up at him, startled, and Seamus softened his voice. “All this time I felt like I was the only one… it would’ve been nice to know that I wasn’t alone.”

“You weren’t. Even if I was straight… Seamus, I will always be your friend, no matter what,” he said, gently but firmly. Then he shifted and turned a determined gaze back on the Irish boy. “Now. I’ve confessed, so it’s your turn. Why do you really want to know, Seamus?”

“Er… well… Becauseyou’remyfriendandbecauseI’mattractedtoyouandIthink- mmpf!!” Seamus was once again interrupted, however this time it was by Dean stepping forward and pressing his lips against the other boy’s in a soft, almost hesitant kiss. Seamus melted against him, feeling Dean’s strong arms come up to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. Their mouths melded together, the chaste kiss becoming more passionate as Seamus began to respond, running his tongue along Dean’s bottom lip and gently nibbling on it with his teeth. Dean’s mouth parted, and he slid inside, their tongues meeting in a velvet embrace.

When they finally parted some time later, Seamus was red faced and both boys were panting. Seamus regarded his friend in wonder, absently running reverent fingers over his lips. He’d kissed other guys before, even a few girls, but nothing even compared to the feel of Dean’s lips against his.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Dean breathed, arms still wrapped possesively around his waist.

“Dean?” he asked, hesitant, confused, unsure how to put into words the questions that were buzzing through his dazed mind.

“Seamus, I… I’m in love with you,” Dean murmured, so quiet that had he not been standing so close Seamus wouldn’t have been able to hear it. His heart fluttered and his breath died in his throat. Dean… Dean loved *him*? It seemed… impossible…

“You… you what?!” he choked out, twice as confused as he was before.

Dean’s arms fell away, and his body immediately felt cold and alone, longing for the warmth of that body again. The pain etched on his friend’s face felt like a cold weight settling in his chest, tugging painfully at his heart. “I’m sorry, I should’ve known you wouldn’t feel the same way…” Dean looked up, a small, forced smile on his face. “I’m lucky to at least have you as a friend, I’m sorry I pushed it…”

He shook his head. “Shut up, Dean. Didn’t you hear me? I said I was attracted to you… and I know that I care about you- a lot-  but I’m still… confused. I just know that I want this and it feels so right when you’re with me.”

The look of hope in those brown eyes made his heart melt in his chest. “You don’t want me to leave?”

Seamus gawked at him. “After a kiss like that, you think I’d want you to go anywhere? Not bloody likely, you git.”

Dean had the decency to look embarrassed, shuffling his feet like a little kid. “Then what does this mean? Are we friends, or… something more?”

“Do you want something more?”

The black boy shot him an exasperated look. “And you bug me about stupid questions… of course I do!”

Seamus watched him, noting the sincerity in his eyes and smiled. He stepped forward, closing the small distance between them, and pulled Dean down into another deep kiss. Dean was still for about half a second before responding, full of more passion and fire than he’d ever seen in the other boy.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” Dean said hopefully when they pulled away again. Seamus nodded and grinned at him.

“This is gonna be fun,” he commented, smirking. “I’ve never dated someone who slept five feet away from me in the same room before.”

Dean blushed, but grinned wryly at him anyway. “It almost makes you feel sorry for the other occupants of the room.”

Seamus leaned up, pressing a quick, heated kiss to his lips. “Almost.”

“You know,” Seamus said after he’d pulled away, “we never did find out who Harry’s snogging-“

As if on cue, the doors to the classroom swung open and shut angrilly, and they could hear voices in the large room beyond. Surprised, and curious, both boys moved to the door of the Potions closet, peering through the crack into the dark dungeon. In the dim light they could easilly make out the tall, looming figure of Professor Snape, and with him was a very embarassed, red-faced Harry Potter. But the person beside him was momentarilly blocked from view by Snape’s robes.

The sound of the voices and footsteps drawing nearer caused them to hurry away from the door and rush back to the counter with the bottles. The door swung open again a moment later, and an irate Snape quickly barked out orders to the newcomers. Turning, both Dean and Seamus gawked as they saw who Harry’s companion was: an equally flustered Draco Malfoy.

Harry blinked owlishly at them behind his glasses. “What’s the matter with you two?”

They just continued to stare at him.

“Malfoy?!” Seamus finally burst, then crowed with laughter. “Ha! This is great! Just wait till everyone else finds out! My God, the looks on their faces will be priceless!”

Draco eyed him suspiciously, a hint of fear lurking in his stormy gray eyes. “What the hell are you going on about, Finnegan?”

Dean snickered. “Let me guess: Snape found you guys up in the Astronomy Tower, too, right?”

If possible, the other two looked twice as shocked as Dean and Seamus had been a few moments ago. Harry looked absolutely panicked. “You know? Oh shit, this is not good…”

To make things even odder, Draco put a comforting hand on Harry’s arm, and glared at the two of them. “If either one of you opens your mouths about this, I swear I’ll have your heads on fucking stakes, understand?”

Harry looked at them pleadingly. “You can’t tell anyone, please! Draco and I could both be in a lot of danger if anyone found out, and I’m not talking about the Weasleys, either.”

Dean caught on to the real problem, even though Harry obviously didn’t want to come right out and say it in front of Draco. With a father like Lucius Malfoy, the risks the two boys must’ve been taking to be together were definitely high. He nodded solemnly, and watched Harry relax slightly.

“We won’t tell anyone,” he promised, then shot Seamus a stern look. “Will we?”

Seamus looked more than a little confused, but recognized the warning in his words. “No, ‘course not.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. It’s really important we keep this a secret for now.”

Hearing their voices, Snape burst through the door, a livid expression on his face. “I thought I said no talking! Get back to work!”

He stormed back out, leaving them in silence for a whole three minutes in which the boys returned to organising the bottles. Seamus glared darkly at the door.

“Jeez, what crawled up his butt and died?”

“He’s probably just pissed that I’m consorting with a Potter,” Draco drawled.

“The man needs to get laid, if you ask me,” Dean stated, placing a bottle of monkshood up on the top shelf.

Seamus snorted. “You’d have to get the stick out of his ass first.”

“Seamus!” Harry exclaimed, his face crimson. The Irish boy grinned cheekilly at him.

“What?” he asked innocently.

Draco arched a brow at them in thought, apparently realizing something he’d overlooked earlier. “How did you know we were up in the Astronomy Tower?”

Following his train of thought, Harry’s eyes widened, and he smirked at them. “You two were there as well, weren’t you?”

They shifted uncomfortably, and Seamus felt his cheeks go red. “Er, well…”

“Aha! I knew it!” Harry exclaimed triumphantly. He grinned at Draco, who rolled his eyes. “I told you so!”

“Huh?” said Dean.

Harry shook his head at them in amusement, emerald eyes glowing. “Well, it was bloody obvious you two were going to get together eventually. What took you so long?”

Seamus shrugged. “Dunno. Guess we should’ve gotten some of the Belladonna stuff sooner, huh Dean?”

Dean grinned. “Yeah. If I’d known it was that easy, I’d’ve gotten some years ago.”

“Are you saying I’m easy?!”

The door swung open again. “Silence!” roared Snape.

The door slammed shut.

“Fuck,” said Dean. “There goes my eardrums.”

Seamus eyed the door warilly. “I’m telling you, that man is the anti-Christ.”

Dean regarded Draco seriously. “It would seem you’ve been demoted.”

Harry glanced down at the book, eyes scanning the old text quickly. He looked up at them and smiled. “Happy Walpurgis.”

“What?”

“It’s past midnight already, so today’s Walpurgis,” Harry explained. “Whatever that is.”

Dean smiled at Seamus, and leaned over to kiss his cheek quickly. “Happy Walpurgis, Seamus.”

“Happy Wal-whatever to you too, Dean.”

~Owari