Chapter Text
It was a dark and gloomy night on the 13th of February when a large crash of thunder scared Seamus out of his Gryffindor colored bed-sheets at 11:37pm. To his credit, Dean acted like... well, Dean. He just looked up, with a half-awake smile lazy curling across his face, and when he saw Seamus standing at the foot of his bed, he just blinked slowly. The flashes of light illuminating Seamus' freckles, Dean quickly lifted the sheets and pulled Seamus in before any of the cold tower air could penetrate the several warming charms he had cast around the bed.
"Hey Dean, thanks." You've been a right good mate to me. I don't know what I'd've done without you." Seamus muttered, his freckled back facing Dean. He scooted farther away, almost as if to distance himself from the awkwardness, only to almost fall out of the bed entirely.
The sounds of thunder seemed to roar louder as a pair of large hands caught him before he fell. His long fingers skimming the muscle of Seamus's chest, Dean pulled him flush against him.
His thoughtful puffs of breath ruffled Seamus's hair as he nuzzled into his neck. The cold top of Dean's nose jolted Seamus out of whatever thoughts he had been having, feeling Dean's solid body curled into his.
"Hey Dean?" He whispered, the calm of 4th moment shattered as his thick accent carried over the silence. "Mmph?" Dean hummed. "It's Valentine's Day tomorrow."
His eyes widened, and Dean could feel his back tense as an idea came over him. "Do ya... do ya have a date?" A dark chuckle rolled out of Dean's mouth before he could stop it, the vibrations sending tingles down Seamus's spine. "Ahh, right, not since Ginny." A pause stretched out, filling the air and making it stuffy with silence. Seamus shifted, his cold feet brushing up against Dean's shins. He snuggled into Dean some more, worming his way under Dean's arm. "I'm just glad we're spending Valentine's day together." Dean could feel himself flush, his warmth a large contrast from the cold shoulders pressed into his chest. He blamed it on the warming charms he has cast before bed, but he knew it wasn't them.
*.*.*.*
Aaahh, the day of St.Valentine. Nothing like waking up to a solid warmth behind you, sunlight streaming in through the windows, and... angry loud noises? Seamus slowly slipped out of the bed, regretfully leaving his warm bedmate to brave the outside world.
Harry and Ron were yelling at each other from across the room. Honestly, this wasn't unusual, but the noises coming out of their mouths didn't make a lick of sense to him.
”Aliquam posuere volutpat diam, id facilisis purus tincidunt nec! Donec?” Shouted Harry.
“Ut ut consequat nisl. Aliquam malesuada laoreet condimentum! Proin tempus!” Ron replied.
Seamus cleared his throat. “Hey guys, Dean’s sleeping, so if you could-”
”Integer nisi leo!” Ron exclaimed, pointing to Seamus.
”Etiam egestas, dui id interdum faucibus?” Asked Harry.
”Look guys, I’m not sure what this is either, but I’m starving and Dumbledore probably knows what this is, so…” Two blank faces stared back at him questioningly.
”Bollocks.”
Non-verbal spells were never Seamus’s favorites, but after a couple of attempts, a piece of parchment and a quill soared through the air. Cursing his handwriting, he quickly scratched out what he had just said.
Harry turned to him and nodded, then gestured to Dean. Seamus shrugged, and left a note on the bed. 'There’s a weird spell that makes us speak gibberish. We’re at the Great Hall. Once you wake up, come down. :)'
He turned to Ron and Harry, gave them a thumbs up, and together the trio left for the banquet hall.
*.*.*.*
It was pure chaos. People were yelling, crying laughing and… snogging? A large golden firework erupted as Dumbledore strode in. Everyone quieted as he sat down and pulled out his wand.
‘Good Valentine’s day to you, ladies and gentlemen.’ A golden ribbon snaked out of his wand, spelling out the words. As everyone was reading, a balled-up note hit Seamus on the head. He opened the ball to see that Hermione had written ‘I believe that that’s the same spell he used for the school song in first year!’
Seamus grinned. He and Dean had belted out the song, the relief and happiness of getting sorted with Dean, had made him feel like he was glowing.’
‘I do believe that we have a prankster in our midst.’ The ribbon emerging from Dumbledore’s wand snapped, creating glowing golden words.
’We have looked further into this spell, and we have discovered everyone, but only you and the person you love will be able to hear your true words.’ A low rumble erupted through the Great Hall. ‘Now, I know that a lot of you may not be comfortable with talking, so I will cast a spell on all consenting students now that should help with this pesky little problem. If you have found your partner, or will choose not to participate in the spell, please make your way to your next class.”
A couple of people got up, giggling and bumping into each other, including… Ginny and Luna? They were talking, their arms linked and their hair forming curtains around their ducked faces. As Ginny leaned over and kissed Luna’s cheek, Dean sat down next to Seamus.
*.*.*.*
He slid a note over to Seamus, and grinned. It was a sketch of Snape, talking to Lucius Malfoy with hearts floating around his face. Seamus giggled, and nudged Dean. As his shoulder hit Dean’s chest, he felt himself flush, his freckles standing out against his red skin. Dean pushed him another note, his quill flying across the paper. ‘Is there anything I missed?’ with a smiley face. Seamus shook his head, his hair brushing Dean’s neck. They both turned to Dumbledore as he rise from his seat once again.
With a dip and a twitch of his wand, everyone was silent, the air quivering in anticipation. Seamus looked at Dean, his eyes wide.
‘Did it work?’ read a messy, pink-tinted scrawl above his head. His eyebrows furrowed as he glared at the long ribbon. ‘Why is it pink?’ The words twisted, forming more words. ‘Is it going to stay pink? Why is it pink? Oh jeez…’ His words faded off into a queasy-looking purple.
Dean’s face scrunched together in concentration. ‘I think…’ elegant handwriting twisted off from a deep navy to a calm, tranquil turquoise. ‘It’s like a mood ring. It shows our moods and emotions through the colour.’
Seamus huffed. ‘So why was I pink?’ His orangey-red ribbon snapped and waved. Dean grunted and nudged him.
‘I think you were embarrassed. Or something.’ He hurriedly added, seeing his friend flush again.
‘Let’s just go to class’ His pink ribbon floated after him, taunting, as he jumped up out of his seat and started speed walking away. Dean chuckled, and they headed off to potions.
*.*.*.*
'Mr.Finnigan, I suppose if you insist on not paying attention to my lesson, then you won't object to coming up here and telling us what this potion smells like, will you?' Professor Snape's orange ribbon waved in Seamus's face, with Seamus swatting at it has he slowly walked up to the front of the classroom. The ominous, steaming cauldron sat on the Professor's desk, it's pearlesent sheen reflecting Seamus's face back up at him.
He leaned in, and took a huge sniff of the steam. Snape lunged forward, and caught Seamus as he stumbled back. 'Foolish child! I said smell it, not inhale half of the potion! Are you alright?'
Shaking, Seamus nodded his head. 'Alright then, what did you smell?'
Seamus stepped away from Snape, rubbing his nose. He stood there, in front of the class, with his head cocked and a blush slowly rising on his face. 'Erm...' his navy ribbon twisted and curled. 'I smell... drawing parchment, and bedsheets?' His eyebrows rose. 'And... vanilla.' His pink ribbon spelled out sheepishly.
Snape cleared his throat, and ushered Seamus to his seat.
*.*.*.*
’Now, Mr.Thomas, since you seem so intent on distracting Mr. Finnegan here, how about you step up here and tell us what you smell.’ Snape’s indigo ribbon snapped gleefully.
Dean trudged up to his desk, and wafted the smoke under his nose. He coughed, his eyes watering and widening in surprise.
He cleared his throat, his eyes darting around the room until they locked with Seamus’s.
’I small broom polish, smoke and grass. There’s also a underlining smell of butterbeer.’ His yellow-pink ribbon waved in the air, and he swatted at it halfheartedly with a small grin on his face.
Dean practically skipped back to his seat, but when Seamus nudged him, he just grinned.
*.*.*.*