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When Dean Thomas stared at the Great Hall’s ceiling in wonder for the first time, feeling small and terrified and excited, a boy next to him said “well, that’s quite a lot of stars, isn’t it?”. And Dean let out a startled laugh, and Seamus Finnigan laughed back.
Dean told Seamus about football, his feet playing with an orange while Seamus stared like he was thinking about the best way to make the little ball explode. Seamus taught Dean how to fly, with a borrowed broom and roaring laughter and cheers lost in the immensity of the sky. They became the sort of friends that are never apart, that first year of school.
Dean used to have colorful stains all over his face and his uniform just after having been working on a painting. The golden yellow of a lion, or the bright orange of the sparks that dyed Seamus’ cheeks so many times. Seamus used to have soot stains that turned his face black. Sometimes Dean worried that his friend would end up blowing up the world, but he didn’t really care, because he always managed to make it brighter.
When Dean started dating Ginny in Sixth Year, Seamus was angry and didn’t know why. When they broke up, he was grinning like he had won the Quidditch World Cup, and he made little fireworks, that day in Charms. He didn’t understand why, every time Dean was around, there were fireworks in his stomach too.
In their Seventh Year, Dean became friends with Luna and Griphook and Ollivander in a dark cell in Malfoy Manor, and he told them about the boy who was standing up bravely against the Death Eaters, somewhere in Hogwarts. Seamus thought about his friend, who was lost but not gone, and some nights he cried himself to sleep, too lonely to be in a place with so many people.
Dean came wandless to the battle, and Seamus hugged him like they had already won, because they were alive, and they were there, and for the moment that was enough. He caused quite a lot of havoc that night, resounding explosions that lit up the sky.
When the battle finished, there was so much destruction and pain and sorrow and death that Dean couldn’t breath. But, somehow, the war was over and Seamus was holding his hand, and although not all was well, it would be.