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Contra Mundum

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Disclaimer: I am not JKR or Warner Bros., thus I don't own any of the mentioned characters or places. I don't make any profit except my personal satisfaction and the only thing I intend is to entertain fangirls.

Warnings: language, homosexuality, AU

Pairings: Seamus / Neville

A/N: This story is AU – Dumbledore is alive, Snape doesn't murder anything besides his potions ingredients and Voldy is a threat all right, but a distant one, as always. This is the kind of seventh-year Hogwarts that would happen if HP was a more peaceful book.

Also, this contains homophobia issues – if you want to read a story where everyone is gay or at least accepting towards gay people, go read something else. This is based more on reality, or what I think would be possible in the old-fashioned wizarding world. I tried to make it as real as possible, so please, give me some feedback, because I'm a comment whore XD and I want to know what I can do better next time.

For those who don't speak Latin and want to know, the title means "Against the World".

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When anyone in Gryffindor Tower said "Hey, let's celebrate," it could also be translated as "Let's drink ourselves into oblivion, demolish the Tower with loud music and make some mischief, the more the better." Also, it was usually carried out according to the said translation.

When "let's celebrate" echoed, the younger Gryffindors shivered in fear for their possessions kept in the Tower. One never knew what would blow up when seventh-years got dead drunk.

Which was on fairly regular basis, by the way.

The mornings after such parties usually looked pretty much just like this one. Various pieces of clothing scattered around the common room, empty bottles under the tables with the ones who emptied them and not-so-empty ones still being embraced by their owners who didn't have anything – or anyone – else to hold onto on the long way to the nearest bathroom. Thanks to the magic, the mess was usually easily taken care of, except things like the ceiling burned by a curse no one remembered throwing or a jumper permanently charm-glued to the chair, apparently by someone who got too angry with his clothes sliding off the chair and then forgot what spell he had used.

The most positive outcome of a party like that were radiant faces of people who got laid, enjoyed it and weren't drunk enough to forget it completely (or were still sore enough to remember). The young man who just entered the common room with a brilliant grin plastered on his face was one of the regulars in this matter. Maybe that was why no one complained when he threw himself on the freshly-cleaned sofa (he probably wouldn't if he knew just what got spelled away from that place just a second ago) and sighed contentedly:

"Merlin... I got the best blowjob I ever had tonight."

"Yeah?" one of the boys showed mild interest in the matter to be polite. Everyone knew Seamus would tell anyway, but they were still too far from the effects of Sobering Potions to be in the mood for listening to their classmate's dramatic pauses.

"Yeah. She was just too cute... and goddamn skilled. Really... too bad I don't remember her face. Only the blue sweater and the brown hair I held while she..."

Hermione coughed pointedly and Seamus, along with several other boys, rolled his eyes. She was a Head Prefect and even if she drank with them, she was still a bit prudish about discussing what she called "intimate matters" openly. Seamus remembered how he once told Ron that if she was that old-fashioned even in bed, it must be boring as hell, and when Ron smirked and told him she was completely different with him, Hermione smacked her boyfriend and didn't talk to him for half a day.

But now, he didn't have Hermione in mind. Seamus wondered who that secret girl from the last night was – she was really good, with his amount of experience he could tell she was a natural.

"Too bad I was that drunk... haven't any of you seen me with someone?" he asked, not really expecting the answer – as he knew his dormmates, they had been even more smashed than him by the time they could have seen him with his mysterious girl.

But the answer came, anyway... even if it was a bit different from what he expected. A girl from sixth year raised her hand hesitantly.

"I was coming back to the Tower around two AM and you were with Neville in the corridor."

Seamus rolled his eyes impatiently:

"A girl I said, Neville is..."

"...wearing blue," Hermione pointed out, as said boy entered the Tower, looking a bit tired.

"What?" he asked, looking around and seeing disbelief on his classmates' faces. "What happened?"

"Seamus was telling us about an incredible blowjob he received this night," Ron said, his voice strangely strained. "She had a blue sweater and brown hair."

"Come on, Ron, it's just a coincidence... there could be dozens of brown-haired people with blue sweaters," Seamus raised an eyebrow at the redhead and turned to Neville: "Tell him, Nev."

Seamus watched in horror as Neville blushed beet-red.

"It was you?!" he yelled, wanting the other boy to deny it, to say it was only a joke, whatever, just to wash off that disgust off of their classmates' faces. Since it was clear that they were disgusted, some of them horrified, and most of those negative emotions weren't directed at Seamus.

Neville turned around and ran away without a word.

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"Hey, Finnigan, is it true? By the way we have some blue sweaters if you are in need."

Seamus gritted his teeth and almost bit his fork off. Dean gave him a sympathetic look:

"Ignore it."

"I'm trying my best. But it's getting pretty damn annoying," Seamus growled and tried to glare menacingly at the one who yelled at him earlier from the Ravenclaw table, even though it was nearly impossible to scare them off with his current reputation.

Only a day had passed since he discovered that the best blowjob of his life included another male and now it seemed that it was a laugh of the week in Hogwarts. Everyone seemed to know and the looks and comments he received were driving him crazy. Not that all were ill-meant; most of them were only innocent – though silly – jokes and Seamus knew he would probably say the same if it didn't concern him. But there were some comments that made his blood boil. If Dean hadn't been there to cool him down, Seamus would surely have broken a few noses before lunch.

Suddenly, the whole Great Hall went silent and Seamus looked up to see what had made the usually noisy students shut up so abruptly.

It was Neville – blushing a deep shade of red, looking down to the ground and ignoring all the whistles and catcalls that roared through the Hall after a second of silence.

His hair was rich pink.

He sat down next to Dean and mumbled a greeting, apparently trying to be invisible and eat as quickly as possible.

"Hi there, Nev… nice colour."

Neville gave Dean a suffering look and touched his hair, his eyes following his hand in attempt to see at least his own fringe.

"Still pink?"

"Yeah."

"Well… it's kinda funny, isn't it," Neville smiled weakly and turned back to his plate, trying to eat everything at once. "I wanted to wait until there were less people here, but I only have fifteen minutes before Herbology starts, so I didn't have a choice…"

Dean patted his back, feeling sorry for the babbling boy when Neville started choking on his turkey and then, silence engulfed the trio, broken only by an occasional snicker or snide remark thrown at their back.

"Well, then, I'm going... bye..." Neville said to the table more than to his dormmates and left, followed by another wave of whistles and stupidities. Two or three Professors looked at the yelling students warningly, but it seemed that they did so only out of sense of duty, and they returned to their plates quickly enough.

"I wonder what spell turns out like that when you mispronounce," Seamus watched the pink head vanish in the crowd and grinned. He remembered that one time when Harry and Ron turned his hair blue for a whole day...

Seamus caught Dean's look and something fell into place.

"You don't think..."

"It's too much of a coincidence, don't you think?" Dean frowned and crossed his arms on his chest. "Someone must have thought it funny. And I'm afraid that's not the end."

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In the next few days, Dean's gloomy predictions proved to be accurate. Neville had never been the cleverest or most skilled when it came to schoolwork, but suddenly, everything fell out of his hands, everything blasted when he was near and he tripped three times more often than usual, without any bags or stones in his way.

Apart from having his hair dyed pink (which was spelled back to their normal dark brown by McGonagall, followed by a biting remark to keep the experiments for the holiday and a glare for the rest of the classroom), Neville's quills and parchments suddenly turned pink on daily basis too and his bag smelled like lavender and roses and something that reminded Seamus of a cheap brothel. Also, every prankster on Hogwarts suddenly seemed to be keen on the idea of trying their newest purchases and inventions on Neville – Seamus could swear that every time he saw Nev, the boy had scales, shed leaves or coughed fire.

Also, the school robes apparently seemed dull to some people, because they took the courtesy of decorating Neville's with some embroidery or lace (even feathers, on one occasion) every now and then. The result was that Nev's clothes looked like something between Professor Lupin's usual outfit and Ron's dress robes, because getting rid of the unwanted accessories wasn't all that easy.

After a few days, it was still rarer to see Neville – Seamus heard some fifth-years snickering about him hiding. He glared at them and boys turned pale, but it didn't set Seamus' mind at peace. He had his share of this new wave of "pranks" and he had enough of that. He could always laugh at himself, he didn't have a problem with that – but he wasn't stupid and saw the difference between a funny little prank and ill-natured bullying.

For him, the worst part was that even his friends seemed to enjoy this new pastime. Especially Ron and other pure-blooded students seemed to be very inventive when it came to annoying innuendos and hints. Though always masked with a smile and a laugh from both sides, the cold looks didn't leave him hanging – Ron was insulting him and it was getting on his nerves, because he couldn't do much about it.

Seamus stormed through the Gryffindor Tower, catching a few words he could do very well without, and slammed the door to their bedroom.

"Hey," Dean greeted him and looked up from the book he was reading. When he met his friend's furious eyes, he frowned: "What? Why are you looking like that?"

"Maybe I want to molest you," growled Seamus and sat on his own bed, almost shaking with rage. "Go on, have a laugh at my expense like everyone else."

"I don't give a damn about who you sleep with, Seamus, you should know that," Dean gave him a stern look, "as long as it's not Mrs. Norris or Dumbledore."

"Or Snape," Seamus grinned, his mood apparently a bit better, and Dean rubbed his chin in mock consideration:

"Snape's not that bad, actually, you don't know what's hidden under all those robes..."

When Seamus gaped at Dean with terror written all over his face, the black boy sighed and rolled his eyes:

"Come on, Seamus, just joking. Really, you're taking this too seriously."

"I bet you wouldn't say that if it were you who had his cock in some bloke's mouth."

"I remember you boasting about how great her skill was," Dean winked at him and grinned, causing Seamus to scowl.

"You know I was too damn drunk to really see who I was with."

"Then maybe you should drink less."

"Cut the moralist talk, I remember you under the table groping Hermione."

"So what. At least she was a girl."

"Yeah. Very funny."

"Don't be such a drama queen, Seamus," Dean sighed when his best friend threw himself on the bed and pretended to strangle himself. "Nothing that terrible happened. You fooled around with a guy, big deal. I bet at least half of those hypocrites who point at you now have thought about trying it but were too scared to actually do it."

"That really helped, thanks," Seamus raised an eyebrow at him, sarcasm dripping from his every word. Dean heaved another sigh – the Irish boy was sometimes really hard to deal with, especially when it concerned his personal pride.

"Okay, it is weird and awkward, so what. Everyone laughs at you now, but I bet that a week or two later they will pat your shoulder and drink with you again. They will forget, and occasionally throw a stupid joke at you. You think you have it bad? Look at Nev. Really, I never thought wizards were so narrow-minded when it came to homosexuality."

"I'M NOT a homo-" Seamus started, but Dean interrupted him with an impatient wave of his hand.

"It's not all about you. There's Nev..."

"He was dead drunk, just like me," Seamus said abruptly and Dean rolled his eyes. Nothing makes people see less than when they don't want to see.

"And how do you know that?" Dean asked slowly, giving Seamus a raised eyebrow to make him realize. Even if Seamus pretended to be blind, Dean knew he wasn't stupid. After a few seconds, Seamus frowned, apparently beginning to comprehend the hint in Dean's remark.

"What the hell are you trying to say?"

"I'm not saying anything. The only thing I know for sure is that I never saw Neville drinking more that a beer or two and it would be foolish to just overlook this fact saying that he made an exception and got pissed that night."

"So he..." Seamus looked at Dean pleadingly, as if he wanted to hear that it was just another prank.

"Probably, yes. I don't think he'd suck your dick just out of pure generosity," offered Dean and watched Seamus' face light up with understanding. Sometimes, smacking his friend over the head with truth was the only possibility to make him see it.

"... oh," was the only answer the Irish boy was capable of, in his state of staring-at-nothing-looking-dumbfounded, and Dean lifted an eyebrow at him:

"Don't tell me it hasn't occurred to you before."

According to Seamus' flabbergasted grimace and his wide eyes, Dean knew the answer even without words. That was probably good, as it would take slightly longer for Seamus to regain coherent speech.

"It didn't," Dean sighed, "really, Seamus..."

"I thought he was drunk too, okay?" Seamus managed and raised his hands apologetically, "I never imagined..."

"That your friend is gay? Come on. Don't tell me you're just as prejudiced as Ron and all the other idiots. Neville has it harsh enough without you bashing him as well."

"You certainly sympathize with him a lot," Seamus growled, annoyed with his friend for being right and with himself for not seeing the obvious.

"What?!" Dean raised an eyebrow at him, disbelief in his voice.

"...nothing, just..."

"You wonder if I don't swing that way, too?"

"You... you do?"

That uncertainty in Seamus' eyes made Dean sigh once more, and shake his head.

"You know, I really want to say YES right now just to see your expression... but no, I am not gay, if you wanted to hear this. I just know how hard they have it, even in more tolerant Muggle society. One of my step-brothers, Eric, is gay, you know."

"You never mentioned it." A slight disapproval hidden in his voice somehow ticked Dean off.

"Why should I? It's his personal life."

"I know, I know... but... how is he?"

Dean shrugged, thinking a bit. Actually it surprised him that Seamus was curious about his gay brother: he expected comments like the ones directed at Nev and sometimes even Seamus himself. Well, maybe that pride of his is actually good for something, Dean thought as he answered:

"Pretty normal. There are many prejudices about gay people, but you know, many are just plain stupidity. I don't know many homosexuals, just my brother and his boyfriend - and I think Neville now - but they are just like us. Well... with my brother and his lover, the thing about caring for their looks is true, but other than that... it's load of crap."

"Uh-huh... is it true that... they sleep around a lot?"

"Just like the "normal" men," Dean grinned, Seamus' sudden curiosity about this topic amusing him a lot.

Seamus sighed and turned his look away from Dean to stare out of window. The Quidditch practice visible from the Gryffindor Tower gave him an excuse for prolonged silence, until he finally settled his racing thoughts down a bit.

"I don't really mind gay people... and considering the environment I grew up in, it's a miracle. You know how my Mom is."

Dean remembered that one time he visited Seamus and the tall, harsh-faced woman with army-like manners. She certainly didn't seem the tolerant type.

"Yes... my folks are more accepting now 'cause of Eric."

Seamus' look turned to the ceiling. "If I came to my mother and told her I was gay, she'd use Avada immediately."

"It can't be that bad... you're her only son, she'd put up with it."

"Did you see Ron's face that morning? And Weasleys are a tolerant family, considering wizarding standards. My Mom's much worse."

"Good thing you're not gay, then, huh?" Dean grinned, but the seriousness on Seamus' face froze the smile on his lips immediately. Something was amiss. Seamus' face was slightly red and he stared at the ceiling intently, when he whispered:

"I'm not that sure now."

Dean gaped. Then, Dean gaped some more – he always thought Seamus was just a step away from being homophobic with that don't-mind-homosexuals-as-long-as-they-don't-cross-my-path attitude. And being wrong about people wasn't that usual for Dean. Hence it took more than just a few seconds to adjust to the idea of Seamus considering being gay and close his mouth. Only to open it again in a more productive way:

"You were pretty sure just a minute ago if I recall correctly."

"I wanted to be, yes. But... I liked it, Dean. It might be just curiosity or hormones or whatever, but I don't feel as disgusted as I should at the idea of having another man in bed with me. Weird, yes, but not... not gross."

"Remember that you were drunk that night. Most probably you liked it because you thought it was a sexy girl."

Yes, that seemed more probable with Seamus Finnigan, who had the concept of womanizing woven directly into his flesh and bones. He hadn't exactly slept with hundreds of women... but hey, it was the effort that counted.

And now that very Seamus sat up on his bed and glared at Dean:

"Hey... for ten minutes you try to convince me that gay is not that bad and when I say I might be just that, you change your opinion?"

"I never told you to actually BE gay, Seamus. Don't make stuff up," Dean ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with how his friend could twist anyone's words for his purpose. The devil can cite scripture, is it...

"There is that possibility, you know."

"Yes, there is. But... don't do anything stupid, Seamus."

"Like what?"

"Like screwing Nev just to discover that you're not really gay."

Seamus glowered. Dean knew it was not a good sign, but this needed to be said, he knew it did. Even if Seamus didn't like it very much, seeing how affronted he looked. But for Nev's sake, for Seamus' sake and for the sake of Dean's own sanity it had to be said, so Dean wouldn't have to feel guilty if something "stupid" happened. And as Dean knew his Irish roommate well enough, he was pretty sure that it wasn't as much a question of "if" as a matter of "when" with Seamus.

"You think I'd do that?"

"Yes, I do, and you know you would. You thought about it, didn't you? The curiosity you mentioned."

Seamus' guilty grimace said it all before he could:

"...yes, okay... I did think about it. But I wouldn't do it, right?"

Dean released the breath he'd been holding. He expected far worse reaction from Seamus, but maybe his friend was an adult all right now...?

"I hope. Seamus... gays are just like "normal" men. They don't fuck everything that happens to cross their way... well, not all of them. And Nev – you can tell only by looking that he isn't cut out for that. He would want more than just sex and-"

"-and what? You think I can't give him that? You think I will fuck one of my best friends and then just tell him to fuck OFF because I am not gay and I only wanted to try it? Thank you a lot, Dean."

Seamus, theatrically offended and gloriously pouting, ran out of the room and the door almost left with him as he slammed it shut with a loud bang. Dean sighed – he was right to have assumed a bad reaction from Seamus. When the Irish boy set his mind on something, nothing could stop him... Darn his pride. I hope that idiot doesn't do anything rash.

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