Seamus & Dean
The news of McGonagall's death hit Seamus harder than he'd thought it would; granted, he hadn't been quite emotionally stable since dreaming about Dean's bloody corpse and waking up to a dementor hovering over him. Then, Dean had said that the Greengrasses were allowing him to attend the funeral. Seamus didn't even think twice about whether the Ministry's promise was an empty one. He was going. While he was aware that his actions would look desperate and pathetic to some, Seamus just...didn't care. He missed his boyfriend. It was getting better, though. Work kept him busy enough that he was always tired at the end of a day. There were no more horrible nightmares. Astoria had agreed to let him write real letters to Dean, not just in some journal. He'd sent a picture of Dean's family, and one of the two of them together on a beach in Bali.
Now, he would get to touch him. Hug him. He'd get to see his friends in a setting that wasn't fraught with danger or in secret. Granted, he was sure someone would ask exactly why he hadn't been at the last meeting. Truth was, he didn't quite understand it himself, aside from realizing that the fight had changed.
Seamus sat near a few of his former housemates prior to the service, nervous energy making it hard for him to keep still. His eyes scanned the crowd and grounds for Dean.