Who: Seamus Finnigan and Amycus Carrow What: Nothing like a good, long crucio in the afternoon. Where: Seamus had no idea. When: Night of the release. Rating: Most likely high.
The war’s over. Seamus was in between hand shakes and signing new contracts when he found out. The ink hadn’t even dried up, but he could see it already fading away. He had his hand on a brand new broom and he was surprised it didn’t splinter under his grip. Repeat: The war was over. Meg had probably already apparated home as soon as she had heard it. Seamus wasn’t going to check, dinner being cancelled was the last of his concerns. Everyone was a mess of panic and Seamus was itching to apparate away, so much, it actually hurt. In the end his (soon to be new) coach was the one to place his hand on Seamus’ shoulder and tell him to get back home, safely of course. Seamus didn’t wait a moment longer to snap his fingers and head back home.
A note; scribbled quickly into Seamus’ journal, warranted more anger than Seamus had expected. Because they were already boasting. Seamus’ hadn’t even taken his own time to do that last time, when his team had won. His mother and father were safe, and Seamus’ was convinced they would still be even if he left to spend the night with Dean and Lavender, otherwise he wouldn’t have even left. He apparated to the street just outside of Lavender’s because he needed a drink - bad. The pub was close though, as Seamus had expected, but dreaded and he pulled his jacket further around him; the cold hair biting against his skin - he should probably have learned that heating spell.
And then it happened so fast, Seamus wasn’t even sure what had exactly happened. Just a sinking feeling wrapping around him, that he had missed something.