To Be A Magical Boy

Chapter 13 - Sixth Year (part 4)

Seamus didn't know what to say as he walked alongside Wayne. He didn't think there was anything he could say that would make things better. Wayne wasn't... he wasn't upset exactly, but he was worried. And regretful. Justifiably so, in Seamus' opinion.

"Did anyone survive?" Seamus finally asked as they turned a corner and made their way down the adjacent corridor. The ring of distant voices from those similarly leaving from the Great Hall could be heard behind them. "Like, have they done a – a –?"

"A body count?" Wayne shook his head, though it didn't appear to be entirely in denial. He simply seemed horrified. "I don't think so. But from what they can make out it was practically everyone in the village." He glanced at Seamus, his expression tight and pained. "The entire village, Seamus. Can you imagine? What kind of a horrible person would do that?"

It was so like Wayne. He didn't swear or curse, didn't rage or profess his horror in overloud tones. He just shook his head, his expression falling into one of entirely honest distress for the destruction inflicted upon others. So very like Wayne.

"Did they -?" Seamus attempted, and had to swallow tightly to vanquish the dryness from his mouth. He wasn't sure he should ask but, "Your family, they weren't -?"

Wayne shook his head. "No. Thank Merlin, no. I mean, Bracken Waters is so close to where I grew up, but my family weren't touched by the Death Eaters." He huffed a sigh that was almost a gasp. "Thank Merlin, no."

Seamus reached up an arm and – with difficulty, because Wayne was quite a bit taller than him – looped it around his neck. It was a horrible set of circumstances, the Death Eater attack upon the village reportedly wiping out every inhabitant within its radius, but at least they were afforded that reprieve. Close though the town that Wayne had grown up in was, none of his family had been caught in the crossfire.

The attack was just one of many that had occurred since New Year's. Seamus didn't think it was his imagination that they were becoming more frequent. The papers were riddled with stories – of attacks, of threats made, of people missing and those found but definitely not in a good way. None of the pictures were explicit but they hadn't needed to be. The vague references to the disasters wreaked upon people – actual people, and mostly Muggles and Muggleborns – was horrifying. Susan, who had something of an ear in the Ministry for her aunt's position, gave them the cut and dry version, and Seamus wasn't the only one who had asked her not to be so blunt in her relaying in future discussions. Poor Hannah had been white as a ghost for a whole day after Susan had told them what really happened to the Masterson family.

It was horrible. It was terrifying. The Death Eaters were breathing fear and invoking chaos in everyone who heard a whisper of them. Seamus had never in his life felt that kind of fear before, a constant, on-the-edge of his thoughts understanding that disaster was just beyond the horizon. It was exhausting to live with.

And on top of what had happened at Christmas... Seamus was very glad he was at Hogwarts. He was safe from attacks from multiple fronts and multiple sources when at school.

Wayne paused at a T-section of corridors with a sigh. He turned to Seamus, and his eyes were heavy, dark smudges beneath them from sleepless nights tossing and turning in distress. Seamus knew that feeling. "I think I'm going to head to the library for a bit."

Seamus nodded. "Okay. Do you want me to come with you?"

Smiling, Wayne shook his head. "It's okay. You look tired."

"So do you."

"That makes two of us, then."

"It's already nearly eight, like."