'Going Home' by scribhneoir1
Claim: Seamus has been avoiding going home for a year. A year after the battle the memories catch up with him and he finds himself back at his parents house.
Pairings (if any): none
Summary: 'Some events punctuate our lives, others just graze by...but all leave a lasting impact.'
Warnings (if applicable): none
Author's notes: Thanks to oncelikeshari for her help.
Some events punctuate our lives, others just graze by...but all leave a lasting impact.
“That’s where I fell off my bike.” Seamus said as he pointed down a narrow alley, “Broke my arm and got told off for not telling me ma where I was.” he chuckled at the memory gazing at the familiar landscape around him. “ I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to come back.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” came the soft reply “It’s been a hectic time.” a soft hand slipped into his, “And I think both Neville and Dean may have done something to prevent you from dragging yourself from the hospital.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to start fussing like the pair of them. I’m fine really.”
“Then why didn’t you tell them where you were going?”
He ran a shaky hand across his face and gazed around the alley. He could still see the bikes and footballs that used to line the walls. “...didn’t want them to worry.”
“Good thing I’m here then, isn’t it?” Lavender said as she pulled him along, dragging his attention from the vestiges of the past and continuing their journey.
It may have been well over two years since he’d last been home, but Seamus could have made his way through the town and to his house with his eyes closed. The lane leading up to the groups of houses had been the scene of many an epic childhood battle...before the battles became all too real.
It was still early in the morning. The bright sky, courtesy of a haunting June anniversary, meant that everything was all too clear...all too familiar.
When he'd walked through the town itself, with Lavender at his side, he’d caught the eye of the newsagent arriving at his shop. He’d recognized Mr Donnelly, and had nodded hello. But apparently, he’d changed more than he’d realised as the old man who’d sold him comics and sweets in his childhood barely spared him a glance.
“...looks exactly the same.” he murmured as he approached the cosy looking house, the garden was obviously well kept and the curtains were open, inviting the early morning sunshine.
He was grateful for the presence of Lavender’s hand in his as he opened the small gate, a sad smile flitting across his face as it emitted its usual creak. The walk from gate to front door had never seemed as long as it did now.
He gazed up at the house he’d grown up in, the house the held his family and the happy memories of a lifetime ago.
“See that there...” he pointed to a window on the top floor of the house, “that was my room.” he grinned as he memories returned “I near broke my neck climbing out there one night on me way to meet Aoife Rafferty in town.”
“Seems to me like a lot of your memories involve you injuring yourself in one way or another.” came the rather amused reply.
“Ah, what can I say Lavender?” he turned to send a ghost of his familiar cheeky smile towards her, “I was, according to my grandmother, a handful.”
“I’d say that was putting it mildly.”
Silence fell between the pair as Seamus fortified himself for the moments ahead.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this Seamus?”
He sighed, “No, not really. But I need to do this.”
The memories of the battle, the moments leading up to it and the moments after it, has returned to him in fleeting moments when he allowed himself to sit still long enough to think for a while. Keeping himself busy had worked perfectly well when friends needed to be mourned...when survivors needed to be helped. When the school needed to be rebuilt he did everything he could, from fortifying the strengthening spells, through to the physical lifting of rubble and materials.
He had sat with his friends for hours as they cried...and had been by their side as they raged.
But all that had changed when a rebel group attacked the last remnants of the DA.
Some, who had thought their battles were behind them, were lost.
He, along with others, had been badly injured.
He had found himself confined to hospital, with nothing to distract him, no way to avoid the memories that now plagued him.
And now, as he stood in front of his childhood home, one eye now useless and his energy fading fast, he knew he had to take one more step forward.
“Shay!”, the shout issued from the house carried past the garden and out down the lane, “Your tea’s ready!”
Barely a second later a reply came from the lane, “I’ll be in in a minute ma!”
A gentle laugh and a chuckle. “One minute Seamus, or else the dog gets your tea.”
He took another step forward and the colours began to fade.
“Daaaaaa, come on, the match starts in 10 minutes!”
Another step forward and the shadows began to fall.
“I got the letter Ma! Look it’s here!” The owl almost looked resigned to the fact that it was going to be ignored before the young boy scooped some owl treats from the bowl on the window sill and presented them with a smile. The owl’s peace however was soon shattered,
“MAAAAAA! IT’S HERE!”
The grass which had neatly covered the front garden grew dramatically, twice, three times the size in just a few footsteps as the previously neat garden became over grown and neglected.
As Seamus stood on the path, the facade faded.
The inhabitants of Termonfeckin had been reliably informed that the Finnigan’s has decided to emigrant and had boarded up their house with the intention of returning home one day.
The reality was something entirely different.
Seamus watched as the house, the home, seemed to disintegrate in front of his eyes. He saw scorch marks begin to emerge where there was once unblemished paint, the darkness descended in direct contrast to the light blue sky.
And, just when he needed the support more than ever, he felt the pressure begin to disappear from his hand and turned to meet Lavender’s eyes as she faded away.
He fell to his knees and unashamedly sobbed.