Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.
--Norman Vincent Peale

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Staunch of the Cynic

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Chapter Two: When Hell Froze Over or When I, Dean Thomas, Set Foot in A Religious Institution.

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"Where's Seamus? He should have been here twenty minutes ago!"

"The School Mediwitch sent Father Lawrence an Owl-"

"Blessed Mary-!"

"No, 'tisn't anything like that, Beth- He just had a nasty fall. He'll be here next Sunday."

"Oh Dear- and for a second I thought- Wait! Will he be here for Christmas Mass?"

"'Fraid not. The Medi-witch said he wasn't to leave the school for the week."

"Have you told Anita then? She'll need to rearrange the choir!" The old woman with bright purple sequinned robes gasped with a slightly horrified look on her face.

"Yes, yes, it's all taken care of." The lady with grizzled grey hair and sparkling blue robes said grimly.

Dean watched the two older witches hustle away, and chuckled under his breath: 'Rearrange the choir.'

Seamus Finnigan: choirboy.

Unbelievable. This entire place was.

As the people in the hall slowly filed into the sanctuary, Dean followed behind, hands in pockets and face down. Seamus was a lucky guy- he better know it! Not everyone's best friend would actually suffer through hours of church just because you asked them too while you were hopped up on painkillers.

Stepping into the large room, he was momentarily stunned, and completely surrounded by stained glass- detailed images that were looking down on the congregation and throughout the sanctuary kindly. Moving a couple of steps forward when a large wizard behind him cleared his throat, Dean sat down in the last pew, sliding as close to the corner as he could get.

He glanced up at the very beautiful window above him. There was a woman smiling slightly, placing her hand over her heart and gazing up at an angel who was leaning down from the sky. Dean tilted his head to get a better look. The angel that was reaching down had a bright gold aura surrounding him, white robes and wings, and a head of delicate gold-blond. His face was breath taking, to say the least. Dean could hardly believe it was made of glass- it looked as though the finest details had been stained; he could even make-out eyelashes around brilliant blue eyes.

One of which winked at him.

Dean gasped, and turned away very quickly.

"We Rejoice!"

A booming voice came from the front of the Church.

"-For The Son of Our Lord, and the Father of Mankind was born!" The congregation chanted in unison.

Ok. That was just creepy.

"We Rejoice!"

"For the Holy Mother who held him!"

"We Rejoice!"

"For the-"

"Psst."

"What the-?"

Dean whipped his head around to his right, a short little witch with white hair and bright brown eyes smiled up at him. She had tanned skin that was very wrinkly and sort-of resembled worn leather.

"Page one." She whispered, handing him a thin pile of leaflets and shuffling a little closer to him so she could see them too. On the first page there was a prayer written out.

"Thanks" He said quietly.

The congregation said a simultaneous 'Amen' and then the man in white robes who had began the opening prayer stepped onto a pedestal.

"Good Morning"

"Good morning" The congregation chorused cheerfully.

"Announcements this week. Maria Gildihook is in charge of the annual Christmas bake-off. It proves to be a fun-filled afternoon, and she is in dire need of volunteers. If anyone-"

"Pssst"

Dean turned to the old witch again who was beckoning him forward a little bit with one of her small fingers.

"Yes?"

"Is this your first time, sweetie?" She whispered softly.

"Uh, yea."

"Ah, I see. What brought you here?" She didn't seem to mind that the announcements had all been recited and that the sermon had started.

"A friend." He said quietly, slouching down so he was more at her level. He watched her eyes sparkle, and she smiled, glancing behind his shoulder.

"Where would this friend be, I wonder?"

"He had an accident. He wasn't able to make it."

"Aah. So you are on a mission!"

"Uhm, yea, I guess so."

She was wearing white dress with long sleeves and had a very fine silver chain hung down from her neck. She spoke with a bit of an accent that Dean couldn't really place, but it sounded slightly Mediterranean.

"A mission! Oh, that is fun, yes indeed! I haven't been on a good mission for years and years. This is in fact the first mission I've had since Teddy's passing." She said, bubbling, and ducking her head down a bit more. An elderly couple a few pews in front of them turned around and gave Dean a look. Hey! It hadn't been his fault that the woman wouldn't stop talking. They didn't even glance at her. Pfft. Ageism.

"-I remember once Teddy, that's my husbands name, Lord rest his soul, Teddy was on a mission and he brought me." She got a wistful look in her eyes, "Oh, Teddy was an amazing man, worked for the Ministry, he did. He was a historian by trade, and it took him to many amazing places." She met Dean's gaze, "But he was an artist at heart."

"That's. That's nice." He felt a little unnerved, and tried to pay attention to the sermon.

"Tell me about your friend," the woman asked.

Well, Seamus only said go to Mass. Say a thank-you (not that he really knew how). He didn't say that he had to pay attention.

Dean sighed. Where to begin?

"He's insane."

… Yep, that pretty much summed him up.

The witch smiled.

"I see."

"No, really. He's crazy. He's the most unpredictable person I know. One moment you think that he's studying for Charms, and the next thing you know he's arranging an expedition to climb Mount Everest. He almost never sits still, which is frustrating, 'cause he's always asking me to draw him. And I tell him 'Shay, I can't draw you if you're moving' but he always says, 'Well, you've been my best mate for seven years. You have to have a good idea of what I look like by now.'"

"Really?"

"Yea!" He went on, slowly forgetting that he was speaking with a complete stranger. In a church. This woman, who he had no recollection of at all … She was very easy to talk with. In a familiar, comfortable way. Dean was still unnerved… but it was slowly ebbing away. "And he's always coming up with these absurd plans, too. Like last weekend, he really wanted to sneak off to The Three Broomsticks, even though we aren't allowed out after curfew, but other really wanted to go…"

"No."

"Dean. Com'on! It'll be fun.

"No! It will not be fun. Being in detention is not my idea of fun, Seamus."

"It's fool-proof!"

"Can't be. You came up with it."

"…"

"I was calling you a fool, Seamus, you're a fool."

"I knew that."

"Sure…"

"You'll have fun, I promise. I mean, how could you not? You're with me!"

"You're a real comedian."

"But, Dean…" Seamus sat down at the end of Dean's bed, pulling the book that he had been trying to read away from his face, "We haven't hung out together in ages. Not just me and you."

"So…" Dean finished, laughing a little, "He ended up using a semi-permanent sticking charm on the caretakers cat! He stuck the thing to the roof! He was so busy trying to get it off, that he didn't even notice that there were kids on the other side of the school sneaking out of bed! And Seamus got a friend of ours to show him a secret passage out of the school, right to Hogsmead. Crazy good at sweet talking people, I guess he's just, I don't know-"

"Charming?"

"…Well, he's something."

"It sounds like he cares about you a lot."

"Yea. I guess." Dean cleared his throat and stared straight ahead again. The choir had started singing a Christmas carol that he recognised. The witch started singing along, at her own speed, with her own tune.

"…God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen…"

And then, quite abruptly, she turned to him with a happy little grin.

"It sounds like you care a lot about him, too. Dean."

"…I do."

She nodded, and started to sing again. Well, it was true; he did care a lot about Seamus. More than anyone. He was his best mate, after all, they shared everything with each other. Even the … harder things…

"I like boys."

"You like boys?"

"Yes."

"Like, you like boys, or you like boys?"

"I like boys."

"Anyone in particular?"

You.

"No. Not really."

"…"

"…Seamus?"

"Yea?"

"…Do you hate me?"

"NO!"

"Oh. Ok. Good."

"I was surprised, that's all."

"Oh."

"I mean, you don't get these type of confessions everyday. I was thinking of the best way to put it in my autobiography. Having a gay best friend makes me, like, ten times more likely to get on the 'Best-Sellers' list! At least! Think of the Drama! Don't yeh think?"

"…"

"No?"

"…"

"…"

"You're such a twat."

"Awe, I feel closer to you too, Dean!"

"You're very lucky," The witch said, with an unrecognisable tone under her voice, "Very lucky. Yes, and I think that Seamus is just as lucky as you."

"What?"

"It's a rare thing, rare indeed. Yes, at such a young age…"

"What's rare?"

"I met Teddy in the army, you know? I was a nurse, and he was fighting for the side of light. He was such a sweet man, so traditionally wonderful. He was injured—a hex to his leg, and he needed medical attention for days. I was the nurse assigned to him.

"He was sent home to Ireland after that, he couldn't fight anymore, but we corresponded frequently. He married, eventually, and had a little girl. She's a doll, I tell you, and I love her. I was never blessed with children of my own…

"His wife, Enid. She was a pearl, he told me, an absolute pearl. She was warm and caring, and she loved him and his daughter more than the world, but she became very ill shortly after childbirth. Not even the most advanced healer can cure Muggle diseases … Cancer of the blood…"

The witch took a second to clutch the little chain around her neck, before continuing.

"When his wife passed away, he was devastated. I could tell, the letters he was sending … they just weren't right. He needed me, so I left my home in Italy, and I came to stay with him. I don't think I have ever seen anyone more surprised in my life! Indeed, I made myself right at home and I wasn't even invited! I took over the housework, and I looked after Ellen. That was the little girl's name, you know. She was only a year old..."

She trailed off, gazing at the high ceiling, smiling.

"We were friends first. That meant ...we were always in love. It just changed. We knew each other, really knew each other. I loved him before I knew that I was in love with him. I loved his daughter; I loved his home and his family. And…"

Dean stayed quiet.

He knew a feeling similar to that…

"Rare. Oh yes, indeed, rare. But so beautiful. And powerful, Aye?"

"Uhm?"

She placed a warm hand on his, and smiled.

"You know, Dean, the thing about love that is strong- it is often mutual."

"Huh?"

"Seamus, he's going through a hard time right now. He knows what he wants, but at the same time, he's worried. He's scared that the love hasn't evolved as it did for Teddy and I. We lived a wonderful, happy life. Ellen grew up and had a beautiful baby boy. And then he grew up. I never met him, neither did Teddy, but we surely love him. And I would want him to be as happy as I am."

Her voice was soft, but every word was clear, and it echoed in Dean's mind…

"W-what …Who-Who are you? How do you know my name?"

"Ah, now. I know a lot of things, Dean Thomas. Indeed! Age brings great wisdom, it does!"

"…Silent Night, Holy Night…"

"What are you talking about?"

"What you have, Dean, is wonderful. You have found something that people spend their whole lives searching for! But your mission- it had just began!"

"What Mission?" He said a little loudly, and the couple turned to look at him again, once more ignoring the witch sitting next to him. She chuckled.

"Ah, now that, I'm not sure. Only you know."

"No … I really don't. I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"What you have to do is think. Think about what you want- what would make you more … whole…"

So he did.

What would make him more whole? Well … he couldn't really think of anything. He had a nice life, really. He had a wonderful best friend, obviously, was often surrounded by caring and loving people. He had a big family that loved him, even though there were things that set him apart from most normal sons…

He was complete.

" …Oh Holy Night, The Stars Are Brightly Shining, It Is The Night Of Our True Saviours Birth…"

Except…

… Except…

"I love you." Adam said.

"I love you, too." Dean said back, squeezing the other boy's hand, and smiling a little.

… It had been empty. There was a moment, Dean decided, when he had realised it. Not then, of course, no. He wasn't the type of person who would say something personal like that, and not mean it.

But …

He had taken a look at the great, ever lasting loves that he had been surrounded by…

His mother and father- sure, there had been a fair share of disagreements, some were extremely substancial. But they didn't let it tear them apart. They wanted it to work; they wanted to be in love.

And he did too … but he hadn't been. Not love like that.

Was that what she was getting at?

"It most definitely is!"

"Ahh!" He shouted, though the congregation drowned it, singing cheerfully.

"I love this song. Do you know the words? They're on page five, if you don't." The woman gestured at the leaflets of paper in his hand as though she hadn't seen Dean almost jump out of his skin at the prospect of her being inside of his head. … Was she? Oh my god, what if she knows that I'm thinking right now! What is she?

"I'm simply a messenger. Or … a path-setter, I suppose. I'm just filling you in, opening your eyes a little. Pushing you in the right direction."

"What!"

"I love this church, too." She continued, beaming, "There is so much joy in one room. And love. That's what it's all about, you know? Joy and Peace and Faith and Love. Listen to the singers…"

"… Fall On Your Knees, And Hear The Angel Voices…"

"Individually, their voices may be … slightly sour, mine certainly is- but together. In Unison, in love…"

She closed her eyes, and smiled.

"Beautiful. That's what this much love can do, Dean. It can make things that are bitter-" She gave him a slightly pointed look, but it wasn't by any stretch malice, "-Beautiful."

Dean was a little scared… He clutched the pew nervously.

"…Oh Night Divine, Oh Night When Christ Was Born, Oh Night Divine, Oh Night Divine…"

"Love isn't always predictable. It isn't always encouraged. There are boundaries. My own family thought that I was foolish, running off to Ireland for a man that I had only met in the army. A man who had but just lost his wife? They thought I was crazy!"

"Imagine that…" He said a little faintly.

"But past those things in the way, they are only making the good thing better. Do you understand?"

"Not a word."

She laughed, and held both of his hands together in her own.

"You will, my dear! You will indeed! Don't give up! Never despair! You will always have someone. There will always be enough love for you. Always. Don't run from it."

"…Night When Christ Was Born…"

He sat there, in silent contemplation. The song ended, the congregation was rising, chattering amongst themselves.

Don't run from it.

"What does that mean?" He asked turning towards the witch. She smiled and patted one of his hands, still folded in her own.

"I cannot tell you that. Oh, that would spoil it!"

"But-"He said, and she simply shook her head. He sighed in defeat; he was obviously not going to get any answers. Instead, he watched the people slowly file out of the sanctuary, many shaking hands and grinning at one another, wishing each the best for the holidays. The feeling of the room was almost unworldly- there seemed no single word that could describe it.

"Christmas"

He turned to the witch, and felt her release his hand. She looked at him directly in the eyes.

"It is magical. Not the magic that can be manipulated and focused by a wand. Oh no! This is real magic. Magic that can be felt by people everywhere, Muggle and wizard alike." She patted his hand once more, "Yes. Magical things can happen at Christmastime. Magical…"

She stood, hopping off the pew, and out of politeness drilled into him at a young age, Dean stood as well. She came to about his middle, and tilted her chin upwards, gazing thoughtfully towards him.

"Enjoy your Christmas, Dean."

"You too." He said, dumbfounded… She turned away. "Wait!"

"Yes?"

He'd almost forgotten. "I, uh …" She smiled encouragingly, "Well … I'm supposed to say 'Thank-you' but …" He trailed off, suddenly embarrassed, "I really don't know what he meant. How?"

Her kind face brightened, "I think that you coming this morning was just enough."

"But-"

"Goodbye, Dean!" She said, and all at once she disappeared within the group of much taller individuals who crowded the aisle leading out of the sanctuary.

"Yea." He said quietly, in a daze, "Goodbye"

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"What was that?"

He heard a boy snickering behind him, and wiped the blob of mud that hit him square in the back off his robes.

"Ron, you are going down" He laughed, chasing after the redhead, who slipped in the mud, and was lurched forwards into a puddle. Dean smacked him (unnecessarily harder than he would have any of the other boys. Revenge, and such)

"No fair, I slipped."

Dean shrugged, "More fair than attacking me from behind, I'd bet." He grinned, and gave the boy another shove, sending him in the mud again, "Teach you to mess with a black belt!"

"You're not a black belt, you moron!" Another boy called from up the hill.

"Hey, mind your own business, twerp!" He called back, grinning, "Or you'll meet a similar demise!"

"I'm shaking in my boots. Really."

"Is that sarcasm, Finnigan?"

Seamus held a hand over him mouth, gasping, "Sarcasm? Me? Oh, Dean. You can be cruel."

"Yea." Dean said mildly from below, so Seamus had to take a few steps forwards in the mud to hear what he was saying. "I sure can be!"

He lunged, making a grab for the shorter boy's middle, but Seamus leapt out of the way, laughing like mad. "Some black belt."

"Ah! Shows how little you know,"

"I'm sure."

"See, in, uh, black-belt school, they teach you how to-" Made another attempt, this time almost knocking Seamus down, but he jumped away just in time.

"-Be a goon?"

"No!" Dean said, taking a few steps to the side, eyes not leaving Seamus's, "I was going to say to attack when your opponents guard is down."

"Oh, I see." Seamus laughed, "You must have been sick that lesson."

"No, I wasn't. But I am sick of being a black-belt."

"Really?" Seamus said victoriously.

"Yea." Dean said, bending down and grabbing a handful of mud, "I'm solving this Ron's way…"

Seamus eyed it testily.

"You wouldn't."

"Really?"

"No. Too nice."

"Really?"

"How much you wanna bet?"

"…"

Dean grinned, and brought his arm behind his head, aiming for Seamus's stomach. Seamus's eyes widened.

"Oh my God! What is that?"

"What?" Dean turned around in the direction that Seamus was staring.

Fwaap.

"Heheheheheh!"

"Seamus…"

"Dean?"

"You." He said, touching the back of his head, feeling mud between his thick curls, "Are so dead."

"Got to catch me first!" He was off like a shot, over the hill, giggling like mad. The chase was fairly short, Dean bounded after him watched him sprint towards Hagrid's cabin, avoiding mud-puddles nimbly and cackling. Seamus felt Dean catching up, and turned quickly towards the forest. He ducked as a mudball came whizzing past his head. He heard a quickly muttered 'shit', and grinned to himself as the heavy footfalls behind him slowed to a stop.

"Dean, Dean, Dean." He skidded to a halt, turning to see his friend resting his body against a thick-trunked birch, panting slightly, "What you lack in athletic ability-" he pattered towards him, laughing, "You make up for in personality."

"Oh, piss off."

"That's the one I was talking about."

"Seamus-"

"You can just be so pleasant sometimes. Never sarcastic, oh no, not Dean! Saints forbid that a sarcastic comment comes forth from that mouth. Witty, now that could happen, but sarcasm-"

"Shay-"

"It's part of your overall charm, really. I'm sure that the ladies love it"

"Seamus-"

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure … you should have been a Ravenclaw. I think. You would make a perfect one-"

"Seamus!" Dean said, pushing him foot against the tree and propelling himself towards the other boy, grasping him by the shoulders, "Would you shut up!"

"Why?" He smiled innocently, though suddenly there was a little burst of … well, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on, right in the centre of his chest. Dean's grip loosened, but he didn't pull away. That's when Seamus noted their close proximity. So close, in fact, that he could feel Dean's definite aura of warmth that contrasted sharply with the bitter cold that enveloped them. It was very nice …

"Because." Dean said the word calmly, and one hand moved from Seamus's shoulder, along his collarbone, and just below his chin. Chocolate brown eye, so sure of themselves, bore into Seamus's own, though he was certain that his hazel eyes gave no illusion of confidence. He released a shuddering breath, unsure what was happening, but to frightened that- should he question it- the surrealism of the moment would disintegrate. He would hate that.

"Because why?" He asked anyway. Damn his inherited Irish curiosity!

"Because" Dean said again, stepping so close that their bodies were touching in some spots, Dean's arm across his chest, "When you talk so much, I can't do this."

Dean leaned closer, and instinctually Seamus raised his head, relaxed his lips, and closed his eyes…

"Do you need more potion?"

"What?"

He jerked his entire body suddenly, and regretted it just a moment later when a wave of pain shot through him. He cringed, and squinted at the bright white bed-hangings…

"More potion. For your head?"

"Uhm." He slowly fell into recognition as a blurred figure that must have been Madame Pomfrey began to focus above him. His head? He tried to sit up, but felt very dizzy. Laying down again he nodded meekly.

She disappeared, and Seamus had a flash of purple foaming potion in his memory. He grimaced; everything after that moment was groggy and unclear in his mind. Thankfully, when she returned she was carrying a clear liquid that was giving off just a bit of steam.

"Can you sit up?" she asked, and he tried, slower this time, scooting back so he could support himself on the headboard. She handed him the potion. "Watch then, it's hot."

"What happened?" he asked, sniffing it, and deciding it wasn't too unpleasant, sipping carefully.

"You fell." She said, straightening the sheets on a neighbouring bed, "cracked your head on the ground as Thomas puts it."

"Dean?"

"Yes, yes. The tall one in your dorm. He said that you slipped on the ice. How's your foot?"

His foot? He looked down and saw that his right ankle was wrapped in white bandage. Why hadn't he noticed that before?

"Uh, it's ok, thanks."

"Good." She said folding a thicker blanket, "The potion worked. I never know who'll react or not, so many immunities to simple pain numbing potions, indigestion curing potions too. If parents weren't feeding them excessively to children whenever they had a little ache-"

She carried on, and Seamus turned so he was looking out the window. A think blanket of snow covered the grounds, still untouched by students. It must have been early.

"Excuse me, ma'am." He said, noting how dry he throat was. He sounded pathetic, and cleared it before continuing, "What's the time."

She stopped mid rant, and pulled a little watch from her pocket, "Three quarters eight." She said, replacing it "It's simple biology, really. Even Muggles have seen similar effects in their most effective anti-bacterial medications. What was it again? Penicillin, I think-"

There was a very quiet rapping at the door, and a redheaded girl followed, leaning in cautiously. She saw Seamus and smiled.

"Hey Sweetie, how're you feeling?" She asked quietly, taking a few steps in. The mediwitch glared at her, but Seamus grinned.

"Like I've been hit by a couple hundred bludgers, thanks!" Seamus said cheerfully, looking behind her expecting to see his best friend. He quickly shook away the disappointment- Dean wasn't an early riser. He'd probably come by later. "What's up?"

"Just coming to check up on my second favourite Irish-man," She said happily, and Seamus wrinkled his brow.

"The first?"

"Bono."

"Ah," He said, "I'm humbled."

Sitting at the end of his bed, she adjusted the sheets around his knees, "You're ok?"

"We've cover this one, I think. Bludgers, Ginny. Lots of them."

"You know what I mean." Her voice was joking, but there was an undeniable tone of concern that made Seamus feel a little mushy.

"Yea." He said, finally, "I'll be alright. I'm not exactly sure what happened. I was in- on the path to Hogwarts-"He caught himself mid-sentence, "-Right after Practice, aye? So I'm heading into town, and I must have slipped or something. I woke up here, I think, last night. I can't really remember."

"Oh." She said finally, looking up at his head, "Nice bruise."

"Yea?" he said, fingering the skin above his right eyebrow, wincing at the pain, "Ouch, is it big?"

"Nah, just…well, here." She reached into her bag and passed him a small makeup compact, flipping it open, "

Glancing into the mirror, he grimaced, "I look like I was in a fight." He touched the scratch on his cheek, "And didn't win."

"Seamus, you're 5'6". You wouldn't have won anyway."

"Piss off." He laughed, tossing the compact back at her lap. She chuckled and put it into her purse, "I happen to be a black-belt." He suddenly thought of Dean … the dream…

Colour rushed to his cheeks.

If Ginny noticed the blush, she chose not to comment on it. "A black-belt? Not you. Far to delicate."

"Hey!" He said, crossing his arms across his chest and pouting, "If you're just here to insult me-"

"Sorry, sorry." She shook her head, smiling, and reached into her bag again, 'Here, I brought you this."

She pulled out a box of chocolate frog, a quidditch magazine, and-

"How'd you get this?" he asked suddenly, grasping the leather-bound book from her, staring at it in awe.

"Harry let me into the dorm." She said a little guiltily, appraising him slightly as he gaped at it, weighing it in his hands "I don't want to sound presumptuous or anything, but you have it with you every Sunday morning, and I thought you might want it now. You know, just cause it's almost Christmas, and you can't go, but you obviously wanted to..." She trailed off uncertainly, "Advent crap or something. It might be a bit hokey, but it seemed to mean a lot to you."

"That was …" He started, letting his fingers trail over the bible's spine, "Nice. Thanks." He looked up at her and smiled, "I'm sure Harry loved the early wake up call."

Ginny laughed, and shook her head, "He said they'd been up for a while, and then complained about how Dean wasn't nearly as good at sneaking out quietly in the morning as you were."

"Sneaking out?"

"Yea, he woke them all up, I guess."

Seamus furrowed his eyebrows at her, "Why was he up so early?"

Ginny gave him a strange look, "Well, I figured that it had been your doing. He wouldn't have normally…"

"He wouldn't have normally what?" Seamus asked, "What did he do?"

"Well," She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear out of nervous habit, "He got up early and went to…" Seamus nodded in encouragement, "Uh, to Mass."

They sat in silence for a second before:

"You're kidding!" Seamus laughed loudly.

"Am not!"

Seamus clutched his side, rolling towards the centre of the bed, "Dean? Dean Thomas? Dean-I-Hate-Conformists-And-All-Forms-Of-Organised-Religion-Thomas went to Church? Forgive me for being a little sceptical!"

"Well he did." She glanced down at her watch, "It's over now. He'll be back soon."

Seamus's eyes widened. The sun had moved in such a way that it bounced merrily from the Hogwart's lawn and into his face, blinding him. He felt the potion bubble uncomfortably in his stomach. "Oh."

Ginny shifted awkwardly, chewing on one of her nails, "Yea." She stood, and carefully made her way towards the window, surveying the grounds.

"Did he give a reason?"

"No." said Ginny, still facing away from him, "I thought that you must have asked him to or something."

"I can't remember." He trailed off weakly, sinking into the stiff hospital-wing bed, "Even if I did- I mean, I wasn't in my right mind or anything. He would have known that. So…" Ginny turned towards him, "Why?"

It was such a simple question. One word. Three letters.

"I don't know."

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Posted January 28 2006