demi-shaysexual

Dean Thomas Introduction:   “there is so much more to me......”  

 cis male , he/him , 22 , alfred enoch } during the trial of voldemort’s last major conspirators, dean thomas was spotted. they work as therapist for st. mungos. rumor has it they are dedicated + spontanious, but i’ve heard they're faithless + mechanical. during the battle of hogwarts, they fought for the order. when i think of them, i’m reminded of woolly west ham utd scarves + warm breath of first winter frost + broomstick polish + colombian coffee + a loss not quite explainable.

It was easy to carry, a simple charm and it was as small as a matchbox in his faux leather black jeans and he had tried to keep an eye out for the blonde over the crowd at Cosmic. Call it stupid, or just Dean being Dean and being able to share something, but it was soon to be a New Year and if their conversation from the other day was anything to go on, the new year was bringing a lot of promise. 

He finally tracked him down, up on the top deck and sidled up beside him, shooting him a grin. “You’re surprisingly hard to track down, do you know that?” he said, clapping a hand onto his shoulder. “Never mind, I have something for you and thought I’d better do it now before I’m too pissed to think straight. I hope you don’t mind-” 

“You know, you should get yourself out there- plenty of bodies to choose from.” he advised the person standing at the bar, who seemed to be surveying the scene with a dubious look. “Drink?” 

Daphne’s eyebrow lifts, observing Dean with an amused little smile as he rambles excitedly on about the Muggle world, something which is ironically so physically nearby and yet so abstractly distant. Shrugging one shoulder, Daphne says, “I don’t think it would be that difficult to build a few more Diagon Alleys here and there. Not if we were careful about it. I’d love for you to show me around some time, though — some of those Muggle luxury brands are to die for. It’s always surprised me that none of our fashion houses have ever done anything Muggle-inspired. I mean, hello, we’re two decades into the twenty-first century, we can at least admit they know how to dress themselves.”

He positively beamed at hearing her agree to him showing her around. He loved introducing muggle things to other witches and wizards and his smile widened fully. “Expensive but so good.” he agreed, knowing he himself had splurged a fair bit, now that he could afford it and liked looking good. “Just let me know when, I’d be honoured to escort a beautiful lady such as yourself, who would no doubt have impeccable taste.” he added with a warm laugh. He liked shopping, not many men would admit it, but he had caught the bug from his sisters and it was indeed very therapeutic getting to drop money on fine things. “I think those decisions though lie with the Ministry and they seem very stuck in the medieval times. There is so much muggles have done which we could learn from.”

“Roman candle,” George mouthed. He’d never heard of such a thing; he wasn’t aware candles could have a nationality. But if Dean thought they were fun, George was willing to take his word for it. Spending this time together with Dean made George wish he’d taken Muggle Studies. ( he also wished it was a hands on learning class; he wouldn’t have minded shooting off fireworks as an assignment ) 

“Can’t say that I have,” George said, still staring up at the sky. It was beautiful really ( just as beautiful as his own fireworks ). It was like chaos in the sky and he loved it. “Should I put that on my list of Muggle things I need to do?” He would have to get Lina to take him to one of these bonfire nights. ( assuming she was available and in a good enough mood to do so ) It amazed him just how much he hadn’t experienced due to be a wizard. 

“Fireworks here have different types, different functions, roman candles are like firework times ten with lots of different functions compared to just a single sort.” The differences between his world and George’s world became startlingly obvious by how each viewed the little things as just that. Fireworks, lighters, and turning on a switch or button to gain light, caused amazement just like him when he saw his first moving photograph or dipped a quill into ink for the first time. Dean managed with that bullshit for a couple of years before he and some other muggleborns went half in ordering a shit load of biros and fountain pens. To something like Firework and Bonfire night, so rooted in his traditions and taken for granted to someone else was a night of awe. 

“And absolutely yes. The whole aspect of it was based around Guy Fawkes. You know, the man who tried to blow up Parliament- uh, your- our version of the Ministry? The plot was foiled, clearly, and he was set to be hung, drawn, and quartered. He fell through the scaffolding though and broke his neck before his execution. To commemorate the foiled plot, where stocks of gunpowder had been stored people burn effigies of him, called Guys, on bonfire night as a reminder. Although, nowadays, people get creative and burn effigies of hated politicians and actually celebrate the guy who nearly ended what tyrannical reign politicians still have on the country.” his eyes were lit up between the sparks of the fireworks and the glee of regaling one of his favourite pieces of history. His pride for his muggle heritage was such a major part of shaping who he had become, that he was glad he could share it, even if that had meant monopolizing Lina’s guest.

 “But there’s a really neat poem for it. Remember, remember the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason, why the Gunpowder Treason, should ever be forgot. Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t’was his intent, to blow up the King and Parli’ment. Three-score barrels of powder below, to prove old England’s overthrow; By God’s providence, he was catch’d, with a dark lantern and burning match. Holla boys, Holla boys, let the bells ring. Holla boys, holla boys, God save the King! And what should we do with him? Burn him!” he recited, tearing his eyes away from the sky to look at George once more. “It’s also just a really good excuse for bbq food and a piss up.” 

“These sessions are designed for us to talk singularly about what is on your mind, separate from your siblings and whatever you disclose will go no further than this office. On the same note, nothing your siblings disclose to me would be reiterated to you, code of practice states full client confidentiality however I am bound to report anything I feel is a potential threat or hazard towards government, yourself or anyone else. Also if I feel there is a chance of crime being committed and it is possible to stop it. However, if you disclose something from your past, I am honour bound to you not to disclose. This space, is a safe space and this time is your time. Do you understand these terms?” 

It almost felt like a script, but he did try to change it up to each person he had on his books. Code of practice and ethics was a difficult one, Dean had heard some harrowing, disturbing and downright terrifying things since he had started his professional career. But he was here to help and he did want to truly help. 

“Anytime you want to leave, take a break, grab a drink feel free, I’m just here to listen and maybe guide if I feel there is something further to discuss. I know, you’ve heard most of this before but it’s needed.” 

Despite their whatever tenuous, strange connection they had made outside of this, he needed to keep this strictly professional. 

“Right,” he muttered picking up the Muggle lighter. He’d never used one of these before, but Dean had showed him how Muggles magically produced fire. ( dean had explained it to him, something about science and something else, but george was still inclined to believe it was some kind of magic ) He pushed his thumb twice over the little wheel before the fire appeared in his palm. Confident, he leaned down and lit the fuse before rushing backwards. ( not too far that he couldn’t still see the action )

But George was slightly disappointed. Nothing happened immediately. The firework just sat there and did nothing. He was about to ask Dean if he’d done something wrong, when a whooshing sound filled his ears and he glanced back up at the sky as a boom sounded. Red and purple filled the sky and George grinned up at it. ( there was nothing better than fireworks ) “You know, Muggles are pretty brilliant,” he said. 

Like a father watching his child for the first time, Dean stepped back a safe distance to let him work. Even when he was at school, Dean carried a lighter on him. A zippo, just encase because it was comforting for him and a reminder of where he came from. Muggles might take a longer route to get there, but the effect was just the same as an incendio. 

There was a brief delay, Dean casually let out a breath at that, unsure just how much fuse there was to be on dodgy fireworks, but as soon as the first one shot up in sky, illuminating it with colour he grinned, looking beside him at George with a proud grin. “Yes. Yes we are.” it wasn’t a slip of the tongue, muggleborn was near enough to muggle in his books and he was mighty proud of his heritage. “Just wait until I show you roman candles.” another two shot up, blues and green’s following the trail and he could hear the conversations from the family behind him, admiring the show. “You ever been to a bonfire night?” 

Seamus was happiest whenever he was back in London. He hated being home for one reason and one reason only, his father. Sure if his father wasn’t too far down the drain it was alright and tolerable but once the bottles started coming Seamus knew that he had no choice but to join in and follow his fathers lead or else he listen to the harsh words that came from the man’s mouth. His mother made everything bearable and he loved it. But now that he was back to his true home? Things couldn’t be better.

He was excited to go and see Dean now that he was home, Dean was his best friend. There was never a time that he could imagine Dean not being in his life. So when lunchtime rolled around he quickly grabbed the package he had hidden outback. He tucked the shrunken package into his jacket and gave a quick nod to the girl behind the counter. It didn’t take him long to get to St. Mungos it took even less time to locate Dean’s office, having been there many times in the past.

The invite in brought a small smile to Seamus’ face and with a second thought, he opened the door and stepped inside. “Hello my favourite person in the entire world,” Seamus stated as he closed the door and slipped off his jacket. “Hope Christmas was good to you and I hope the family missed me dearly.”

Eyes creased at the corners, a smile so wide it could light the sun from a solar eclipse as Seamus crossed the threshold into his office. He couldn’t help it, there was no one in his life he cherished more who wasn’t a blood relative and even then he found himself hard pressed in thinking who he’d support out of all of them if it came down to choosing. He knew the answer, that didn’t mean he could ever admit it out loud. “Hello equally favourite person.” he breathed, not being able to help himself from walking over and bringing him into a hug. 

He had missed him something crazy, and it had only been a few days. If this was someone else Dean was talking with, he’d say it was a very bad case of co-dependency but Dean couldn’t imagine a single day not seeing or speaking with him.  “Mum sends her love and so does the coven, they missed seeing you but I promised you would come in the new year.” he murmured, across his shoulder, trying to retain as much of the hug as he could before it became understandably awkward and it was with regret he let go and stepped back, allowing the man to be free. 

“How was yours?” he asked, hoping it had been good, but with Seamus’s father, it was difficult to know really how it could’ve ended up. He almost wished he had just dragged Seamus’ to his for the holidays. “Did you just stay at home or did you manage to go out at all to the old haunts?”

Shay was back from Ireland and Christmas Day was over, which meant for the few days in between it and New Years eve the world returned to normal with work. Patients still had to be seen and Christmas always gave him plenty of things to work out with his clients. His latest appointment had just finished and he was busy packing up the office, he still had a few notes to fill out but he discarded his note pad onto his desk and quickly checked his watch. It was nearly his lunch hour and since both of them had been busy, he’d invited Seamus to join him for lunch, making sure to time it with Seamus’s break. 

He had missed his best friend over the holiday, even if he had been entertained by his own family and Lina’s and having George around. But there was still a part of him which craved the Irish lad’s presence and he quickly straightened up pillows as he glanced at his watch once more. Waving his wand, a tray of sandwiches and jug of coffee appeared on the table. Hearing a knock on his office door, he began to quickly brush down his suit. 

“Come in-” he said loudly, wondering why he was getting all stressed over simple lunch. Maybe it was also to do with Seamus’s gift, which was tucked neatly behind his desk- a portrait he had been working on that perhaps was a little bit too personal to gift a friend. But Luna had assured him the work was beautiful and he only hoped it wasn’t too much. 

“Six sisters,” Daphne echoes with raised eyebrows. “I don’t know how you do it — I can just barely handle one.” Of course, Astoria feels like more sometimes what with the curse and all, but she doesn’t mention that. And before she can ask what West Ham is, the explanation comes and it’s decidedly unsurprising. “Ah,” Daphne says, rolling her eyes but not without a little smirk of amusement, “of course, Muggle sports. Well that must be nice; I don’t typically venture out into Muggle areas, but I hear Straford has quite the shopping mall. Shame wizards haven’t expanded, isn’t it?”

“A lot of patience, saying sorry, chocolate and finding great hiding places. Let’s just say I know more about women bodies and problems than most men.” he replied, another laugh escaping him. “If we’re talking technical, I have seven, what with an in law but luckily didn’t live with us at the time.” It was true, it’s probably also why he was so close with the women back in Gryffindor and in school. Lavender, Parvati, Ginny, Luna- he could go on. “And yes it has! Westfield is fantastic for it and the restaurants there, divine, ugh, I wish you could visit it. You should somewhen, I’d happily show you around.” and she was right, Diagon was great for having everything in one place, but it was still positively medieval compared to the muggle world. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get there someday, I guess it’s easier to keep the secret this way though.” 

“Nah, you didn’t take anything from me,” Harry assures him; the last thing he wants is for Dean to think he’d done something wrong and he hates the idea that he’s spent so many years wondering. Truthfully, it’s hard for Harry to remember how it had all started that night, he’d been in such a weird place their entire stay at Bill and Fleur’s and in many ways it all feels like a strange dream, even and especially his little interlude with Dean. 

“It’s not like I didn’t know what I was doing or whatever, it’s just …” He shrugs helplessly. “I dunno. I’d never really done much before even with — er, with Ginny, before then, ‘cause I wasn’t really thinking about that stuff, and I’m a bit weird about, like, you know, physical things.” He cringes internally at the muddled explanations he’s giving (not to mention the blunder about Ginny) and heaves a sigh. It’s not easy to explain is the thing, which is at least half of why he’s never brought it up before. “Anyway — yeah, you didn’t do anything wrong. And I really appreciate you not being upset with me about it. If someone ran out on me like that I probably would’ve been pissed,” he laughs softly. 

At least that answered a question long filed away in his ‘memories to haunt you when you least expect it’ but it was a relief to hear from him that he hadn’t ruined or taken something from him. “I’ve never remained upset about it. Confused yes and at the time emotionally bruised- but it was a lot to deal with. I might be pissed nowadays if someone ran out, but if I’m honest, most likely not. I’d rather my partner at the time be comfortable and if they weren’t I’d appreciate them removing themselves from the situation. Both of them had been caught in the moment, Dean loved Harry, just like he loved his sisters and brothers in law. And he valued having him in his life.

Even if he did bring up their mutual ex girlfriend. Ginny wasn’t so much a sore spot any more, he had enjoyed their time together and she was passionate, strong and overall great but it also didn’t help that Dean had also been, although at the time in serious denial, in love with his best friend. So knowing Harry went there afterwards, he knew in normal senses there would be friction but he was sorry it didn’t work out with them either. He wanted both of them to be happy. “You had a lot going on, I’m surprised you even managed having a girlfriend or relationship and dates. And Ginny and I were great, you know? But we weren’t meant to be and that’s okay. You never know, things might have been different if you didn’t have such a weight on your shoulders and actual room to breathe and live.” 

It was back to therapist brain, he really couldn’t shut off. Especially when Harry brought up physical aspects. “You want to get more high and tell me more about it? I might be able to help.” he insisted softly. His hand dropped from his ankle, reaching to the side to grab the weed and rolling kit. 

Her time with Dean was short-lived, but he was a kind guy. Out of all the people who deserved to be on the Quidditch team, it was Dean. But, she was not the captain and Harry had different values when it came to players. Still, seeing Dean made her demeanor softened as she mused out loud, “Technically, it’s my mum’s, but yes I reckoned it is.”

Katie gave Dean a light shove in response to her looking good. “Thanks. It’s a whole lot of caffeine and not a lot of sleep only to crash for, like, probably twenty hours,” she replied back. “Few games here and there. What about you, mate? Professionally helping people not drop their packages?”

“Well, it clearly seems to be working even if not in the remotest sense healthy” he replied with a cheeky smile. “ I really tip my hat to all of you putting up with the training and the regime of quidditch and maintaining regular lives. I must admit I’ve become quite sedentary in my life since school. Unless Angie is home and she drags me out for runs.” he added with a roll of his eyes. 

“And as great as that profession would be, nothing anywhere near as fun. Nope, still deciding diving into everyone’s frontal lobe and cerebellum is a great way to go.” he mused, wondering if his career choice was the most wise. “Are you free for coffee? I have so much to do today and this one is nearly cold, I’d love to catch up properly.”