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These moments were rare and precious when you lived with three other boys. Three other boys who could never know their secret. Dean wished he could stop thinking about them as the boy whose bed they were on pushed his tongue deeper against his, making them explore the deepest pockets of his mouth together. Dean's one leg that remained off the bed, awkwardly positioned to be able to jump into his own bed if his keenly practised ear heard the sound of a door, was beginning to ache. They'd been at this for hours, exploring Seamus' freckles and his own muscles. Usually, they only got precious, rare pockets of time, too short to truly grow comfortable or relax before the terror of someone coming up the stairs. But now, the last rays of a summer twilight had disappeared in the window and cloaked the grounds in darkness, yet somehow they were still alone.
'Do you think it's odd that they're all gone this late? They weren't at dinner,' he asked as Seamus came up for air, temporarily freeing his tongue to put words to his thoughts.
'Who's to care? As long as they aren't here, this is grand,' said Seamus in an out-of-breath whisper as his lips lingered on the point of Dean's neck, where the beginnings of scraggly fuzz ended before proceeding down his chest.
Dean tried to push a growing sense of unease from his mind and focus back on the person he had dreamed about for the last three years, who was now enveloping all his senses, but it was just too strange. The last time all three of them had been out together this late, it had been first year on the night that had been shrouded in rumour and mystery ever since.
'It's weird, s'all' said Dean as his stomach did flip-flops at the attention being paid to his navel. 'Harry and Ron are one thing, but Neville?'
'Would you lay off? What has you thinkin' of them at this bloody moment?' said a now clearly irritated Seamus as he began to pull at the waistband of Dean's pants. Dean put his hand out to stop him.
'But Umbridge wasn't at dinner either. Or her gang,' he said, feeling the nagging unease begin to more resemble dread.
Seamus pushed himself upright and looked at Dean for a long moment. His brow furrowed as he took in their dormitory.
'Aye, so maybe they got themselves into detention and the Inquisitorial Squad are off celebrating. Or maybe they're both just celebrating that we're done with fecking O.W.L.s' he said with only a hint of deeper uncertainty before diving back down to wrestle for Dean's pants. Dean let him win for the first time.
Quickly, both of their garments were discarded on the floor next to the narrow four-poster bed as they moved from mere exploring to an insistent, synchronised rhythm. Dean looked down at the thrusting head of the boy who had slept mere feet away for years. Every time Dean heard footsteps past the dormitory door, his hand grabbed a fist full of hair, and their rhythm slowed briefly, waiting in terror, but as the night went on, they lost themselves in each other's new closeness. Eventually, the footsteps stopped, and the urgency of their desires made the world beyond the door vanish.
Their long night, ahead of a day free from exams, meant they both slept late while sweating through Seamus' sheets in the warm summer morning. An owl was hammering at the window incessantly, and Dean felt Seamus uncoil himself to let it in. He opened his eyes just long enough to see the view of the pale buttocks in morning light, as Seamus bent over his trunk to grab some change for the newspaper owl.
'I don't see why you bother with the Prophet still,' he yawned, rolling onto his side to better observe the specimen standing next to him. But Seamus had frozen and gone white as a sheet. At this moment, Dean realised they were still alone. They absolutely should not still be alone. Their dream-like bliss had lasted hours without interruption. Something was wrong.
Seamus sat on the edge of his bed, silent and looking as if he might sick up, before sliding the paper to Dean. He looked down at the large headline above a photo of a grave-looking Cornelius Fudge.
HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED RETURNS
'In a brief statement on Friday night, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He Who Must Not Be Named has returned to this country and is once more active.
"It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord... well, you know who I mean... is alive and among us again," said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters.
"It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the Dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. We believe the Dementors are currently taking direction from Lord... Thingy. We urge the magical population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defence which will be delivered free to all wizarding homes within the coming month."
The Minister's statement was met with dismay and alarm from the wizarding community, which as recently as last Wednesday was receiving Ministry assurances that there was "no truth whatsoever in these persistent rumours that You-Know-Who is operating amongst us once more".
'Details of the events that led to the Ministry turnaround are still hazy, though it is believed that He Who Must Not Be Named and a select band of followers (known as Death Eaters) gained entry to the Ministry of Magic itself on Thursday evening. Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reinstated member of the International Confederation of Wizards and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, has so far been unavailable for comment. He has insisted over the past year that You-Know-Who is not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but is recruiting followers once more for a fresh attempt to seize power. Meanwhile, the "Boy Who Lived" and several other Hogwarts students believed present at the Ministry of Magic on Friday night also remain unavailable for comment and their
whearabouts or condition are unknown at this time. St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries refuses to even acknowledge if they have treated them, though eyewitness reports indicate that five school-aged children, including one unconscious girl whose condition was regarded as "serious", were transported out of the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic accompanied by former Hogwarts professor and known werewolf Remus Lupin. Harry Potter is not believed to be among them.
When asked for comment, Hogwarts Professor Severus Snape referred the Prophet back to the newly reinstated Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore and threatened to hex the Prophet's reporter if he continued to stand at the school's gates.
For more on Friday night's events at the Ministry of Magic, see
TWELVE DEATH EATHERS CAPTURED, INCLUDING PROMINENT MINISTRY OFFICIALS. TWO DEAD, INCLUDING SIRIUS BLACK."
Dean took a deep breath. If that many Death Eaters were there, whose to say his classmates were even still alive?
'Did you have your coin on you last night?' Seamus said in a thready cold whisper, entirely distinct from the whispers he had spoken in all night.
'No, I put it in my trunk after we got sold out,' said Dean.
'Me too. But this, this is exactly what Harry was trying to prepare us for. This is all we've got ahead of us now,' he said, as if he was trying to hold back tears. 'Five students injured plus Harry. That's not just those three; that was the D.A. going to fight.'
Dean avoided eye contact with Seamus for the first time in months, as the regret bubbled to the surface in Seamus' voice.
They quietly dressed and went down to a late breakfast in the somber Great Hall, where a remarkable number of students remained despite exams ongoing for all but the fifth and seventh years. Dean immediately took note that, in addition to the rest of the fifth year Gryffindor boys,
Hermione, Ginny and Luna Lovegood were missing, as was Professor Umbridge. His classmates had gone to war, while he had been having the best night of his young life.