Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Hello, lovies!

This story has been living in my head for about a month now, and it won't leave me alone. Amazingly, this story has nothing to do with Fred, Draco, or Scorpius.

This story will focus on one Irish lad, Seamus Finnigan.

Yes, this one-shot will focus on one of the many underdeveloped, yet prominent, characters of the Harry Potter series. We see him more than once in each movie, and nothing was funnier than when he blew up the feather first year. This story will bring life to my version of Seamus.

So, grab a box of tissues, sit back, and read.

Also, let me know if you want me to do another Seamus Finnigan story. I'll only do one if you guys enjoy it.

Love always,

Avoline

The Irishman sat in front of a marble headstone. His deep blue eyes glistened with unshed tears, and if one looked closely, his hands, which rested on his knees, were trembling just slightly. Sandy lockes hung haphazardly around his face.

"Hey, baby," he began, his voice shaky and laced with sorrow. "Just came to talk to you. I know you would say to try and talk to Dean or Neville, like I used to before..." He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. "Liam's doing great, baby." He opened his eyes again. "He looks more and more like you every day. His magic is starting to come in, and I'm waiting on his letter from Hogwarts any day now." He barely managed to choke back a sob.

"I miss you, baby. I miss you so much, and nothing I can do can change that. I tried moving on, for Liam's sake, but I can't. None of the other witches will ever amount to you. None of them can make me feel the way you used to. None of them are as beautiful or near as smart, as you. I wish I could find someone who would be a great mother to Liam, but my heart just can't take it. It just can't..."

His voice cracked on the last word, and he closed his eyes again and covered his face with one trembling hand. He didn't want anyone passing by to see his heartache. He wished, as he had for nine years, that he could come up with a spell to bring her back to him and his son. The youngster needed his mother, but she was lying just under the headstone that the Irishman was talking to.

"Liam asked me the other day 'Where's Mammy, Papa?'..." He removed his hand and stared at the ground. "How do I tell him, baby? How do I tell him that you died trying to protect him? How do I tell him that I was too late to save you?" The tears spilled down his cheeks, and he did nothing to hide it. "How do I tell him that it's my fault you're gone?"

"Seamus?" He turned around to see his best friend, Dean Thomas, walking up to him. He wiped away the tears quickly. "You talking to her again?" He nodded.

"Yeah," Seamus answered. "Had to. Liam asked me about her the other day." The taller man sat on the ground next to his comrade.

"You still miss her, don't ya," he questioned. Seamus nodded. "I know you don't want to hear this, but you need to move on. It's been nine years, Seamus."

"I know," the Irishman half sobbed. "But no other woman will ever amount to her. She was everything to me." He began to tremble again. "If I had just gotten home sooner..." Dean's strong hand gripped Seamus's quivering shoulder.

"Then Liam would have lost both you and her," he pointed out. "He needs you, Seamus. More than you realize." Seamus closed his eyes and looked away.

"He needs her more," he choked out. "He asks about her every year on his birthday."

"I know, Shay," the darker man soothed. "I know. Come on, buddy. Sitting here isn't going to help Liam any. He'll probably be getting his letter soon, and he'll need you're help navigating Dia-dammit Ally." The two men chuckled at their nickname for the small street. Seamus cast one last glance at the stone as Dean stood.

"I love ya, Susan, and I always will," he whispered, reaching to trace the words for the ninth time.

Susan Bones Finnigan

Beloved mother and wife

Heaven's newest guardian angel