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Seamus took a deep breath and waited for the room to straighten itself back out again. He closed his eyes and then opened them. His best mate was still snogging Ginny Weasley on one of the couches in the common room. He swallowed awkwardly and hurried by them. Dean called out his name after him but he ignored it and ran up the stairs to the boys dormitory.
His heart was racing when he reached his bed and sat down, pulling the bed curtains closed around himself. It all made terrible sense now. Seamus’s sudden hatred of Ginny Weasley, who he’d previously been very fond of, made sense. He hated everything about her from her freckles, to her laugh, to the way she was always holding Dean’s hand. It all made his blood boil.
Of course it did. Seamus was in love with his best mate. Horribly, tragically in love with him. The realization made his stomach churn unpleasantly. It wasn’t because Dean was a boy, Seamus had known he liked boys ever since Justin Finch-Fletchley had snogged him behind the greenhouse after Herbology in Third Year, but because Dean didn’t like boys. Dean liked Ginny bloody Weasley.
The whole situation was absurdly unfair, he decided with a huff, and flopped down on the mattress.
Seamus took a few steadying breaths and stared blankly at the burgundy curtains. He could feel his heart growing heavier in his chest and weighing down on his shoulders.
He could hear someone coming up the stairs now. Tears chose that moment to sting the corners of his eyes. When he heard the door open and Dean’s familiar, long-strided footsteps on the dormitory floor he blinked them back stubbornly.
“Sea?” Dean asked, his voice deeper than it had been last year. They were growing up. The thought of Dean growing up and perhaps marrying Ginny Weasley made Seamus’s stomach lurch again. “Sea?”
Seamus bit his lower lip and tried to blink back the stubborn tears threatening to fall. He had never ignored Dean before. He hadn’t even managed to do it properly last year when they had been fighting.
“Sea, are you alright?” Dean asked cautiously, approaching Seamus’s bed. “Are you ill? Should I get Madame Pomfrey?”
His heart leapt into his throat when he realized Dean was going to pull back the bed curtains. He couldn’t let Dean see him like this.
“Just havin’ a lie down, mate,” he managed to say, though his throat was dry. He only hoped he didn’t sound as shaky as he felt.
“Oh.” Dean sounded disappointed. Seamus shifted onto his side and pulled his knees up to his chest. “Ginny and I had this really funny story to tell ya.”
The words bounced around in Seamus’s head. His heart hurt. “Ginny and I.” It had always been “Sea and I” before.
“Maybe later, Dean, yeah? Jus’ didn’t sleep very well las’ night.”
“Alright then,” Dean said after a pause. Seamus could hear him shifting from foot to foot. “So long s’you’re sure you’re not ill.”
“I’m fine, mate,” he replied, trying to bring some of his usual bounce into his voice.
It must’ve worked because he heard Dean take a few steps away from his bed. “Yeah. Later, Sea.”
The door opened and closed behind him. Then the room fell silent. Seamus pulled his pillow to his chest and finally let the tears fall silently down his cheeks. He closed his eyes.
Tomorrow everything would be fine. It would have to be. Seamus would just have to find a place to tuck these feelings away where they couldn’t hurt them because the alternative was to give Dean up entirely and the thought of a life without Dean in it at all was too painful to bear. He would love Dean, be there for him no matter what, be his best mate, and he would be content with that.
Tonight, however, tonight he would allow himself the painful joy that came with being in love with his best friend. Just for tonight.