In The Same Boat - Ron/Seamus - PG-13
Title: In The Same Boat
Giftee:ninjajab
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ron/Seamus
Word Count: 1360
Summary: Ron and Seamus have more in common than they realise.
Author's Notes: written for ninjajab for the Seamus Finnigan ficathon at half_and_half. I'm afraid I couldn't create the Wizarding Dublin you were hoping for, because I've only been there once!

Beta: magicofisis


In The Same Boat
****
We spent the best part of two years finding and destroying bits of You Know Who, only to find ourselves back at Hogwarts again, chasing Death Eaters across the grounds as teachers and the older students poured out of the castle door and down the lawns, towards us.

I suppose it was only fitting that Harry finally faced him at Hogwarts, and I know I should be grateful that no one I cared about was badly hurt.

But, when Harry got to his hands and knees in a black cloud of evaporating Dark Lord, there she was, falling into the arms of the Chosen One, and behaving like some idiot in a fairytale.
.
So there is a part of me that wishes the Final Battle had been anywhere else.

Anywhere that Ginny wasn't.

Ginny, who'd leapt up halfway through her DADA NEWT to help defend the school, and received an O for her troubles.

For dueling with Lucius Malfoy, even paler than before, after three years in Azkaban; for sending darling Draco to occupy his late father's cell.

So my best friend and my sister went down in legend.

And it's not as if he'd have fallen into my arms after a Ginny-free liberation of our world from Darkness.

Except in a back-slapping, best mate sort of way.

And I had to grit my teeth and watch him relax and blossom into a lovesick fool.

And I had to stand by his side, when he married her.

And I had to accept that she made him happy, and move on.

Which I did.

Did my best.

We never got to share a bachelor pad, what with the whole him being too busy fawning over my sister thing.

So I shared a place with Nev and Seamus.

Which was good.

Seamus was a lot quieter than before the war; before the attacks on the Muggleborns.

We'd both lost our best friends, and, though we never talked about it, it was like Hermione and Dean had brought us closer together.

He didn't date as much as you'd expect, if you saw what he looked like as he wandered into the kitchen in the morning in just his boxers.

And I didn't, obviously.

We started dressing for breakfast when a bewildering number of Hufflepuff girls started appearing in the mornings, courtesy of Nev, strange as it may seem.

The three of us got on well, and it was fine.

Nev worked at St Mungo's, in their greenhouses; Seamus and I were junior Aurors, though he was a year ahead of me, what with the whole he finished school thing, and he tried to order me around at work and get me to do his filing.

Harry was still weighing his options; he'd had offers from several Quidditch teams, but it's dangerous to fly and shag at the same time, so he couldn't try out for any of them, just yet.

We saw Harry sometimes, but it wasn't the same because his eyes would glaze over as he thought about my sister and Seamus would catch my eye and roll his.

One evening, when Nev had a date and Harry had stood us up, Seamus and I were on our sixth pint in a booth at the Three Broomsticks.

"Who'da thought it?" he said, doodling with a fingertip in spilt beer.

I looked at him with narrowed eyes, trying to remember if we'd already been talking about something.

"Thought what?" I asked finally.

"That Nev would have more sex than the two of us together."

I panicked for a moment, worried that he'd caught me starring at his arse; he never looked this fit at school, but being an Auror has done wonders for him.

"Together?" I echoed nervously.

"Not together, together, you eejit," he scoffed. "The two of us, our sexual exploits, added together."

Ah, well.

That's a relief.

Not that I thought about the two of us together.

But I had finally conditioned myself to stop fantasising about Harry.

And Seamus was looking really good.

"The war's long over," he said. "And I think it's time we both moved on."

I shrugged.

"You can…. love again," he finished with a ridiculous sigh.

"Again?" I echoed.

"Doesn't mean you forget her," he said solemnly.

"Forget who?" I asked.

"Hermione," he said.

"Why should I forget her?" I asked.

"I said you shouldn't forget her," he said, very slowly, as if he was talking to a small child.

I frowned. "I didn't love Hermione," I said quietly. "No, well, no, yes I did."

"Make your mind up, Ron."

"She was my best friend: of course I loved her, like you loved Dean."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Seamus said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded, nettled that he'd be competitive about something like that.

"Just that, well, I never discussed it with her, obviously, because my tackle is still attached, but I reckon she wouldn't have shared Dean's opinion of anal sex. You may know differently, of course."

I blinked several times.

"I never even kissed her," I said faintly.

"Ah, well, there you go," Seamus said.

"You and Dean…" I trailed off uncertainly and he looked uncomfortable.

"I knew I shouldna said anything," he muttered. "Don't go freaking out on me, Ron. I just thought it was a good opening – if you'll pardon the expression – to show we were in the same boat. We both loved our best friend, and we lost them."

Well, I wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing.

"We did," I said firmly.

"But she was just your friend."

"Not Hermione."

His eyes grew wide as galleons. "You and Harry?" he breathed.

"Not 'me and Harry'," I said swiftly. "Just me. Just stupid me, having to walk in on him with his hand up my sister's skirt all the time. Just stupid me with a best mate and a sister whose love has gone down in legend; the greatest love of the century. Most people can try and forget that they loved someone who didn't want them; I get to read about it in history books."

"Does he know?" Seamus asked.

"No," I said. "No one knows."

"Thanks," he said. "That means a lot to me."

"I didn't mean that you're no one," I pointed out.

"I know that."

"I meant it's a big deal, that I told you."

"I get it, Ron."

"Yeah."

"So," he aaid. "We really are in the same boat."

I grunted.

"Even down to the hearts breaking when we have to watch them kissing your blasted sister."

"Except for the whole he loved you back thing. Whereas I have to put up with Harry playing with her 'beautiful hair' and kissing her 'cute freckles' and try not to grab him and scream 'what about my cute freckles?'"

"D'you still…"

"No," I interrupted. "Not so much... it's a hard habit to break."

"You should move on," he said gently.

"I s'pose," I said. "But I wouldn't know what I was doing."

"I would," he said.

"Yeah, well, you'll have to give me tips," I said grumpily.

"I'd give you more than that," he said.

I gaped at him.

"Was that just general banter, or are you making a pass at me?" I asked.

"Yer can't tell?" he asked with a raised and rather amused eyebrow.

"I'm really bad at this stuff," I said. "All I've ever done is drool over Harry."

"Well, you're welcome to drool over me anytime," he said. "Unless, it's just Harry… and not blokes."

I thought of how he'd looked after his shower that evening, before we'd left for the pub.

I’d been lying on my bed, when he'd come in, in just a towel, to borrow some clean socks.

"I reckon it's blokes," I admitted. "Fit blokes, anyway. Not… not Malfoy, or anything."

He struck a pose. "Fit enough for you?" he asked.

I sighed. "Oh, yeah," I said, blushing.

"So," he said. "You reckon Ginny and Harry's great love has gone down in legend?"

I grunted.

"Shall we see if it runs in the family?" he asked. "Go down on me and I'll make you a legend."