A/N: written for the TTH Winter Fic-for-All
Disclaimer: don't own anything, yada yada yada
Seamus Finnegan curled up in front of the roaring fire in the Gryffindor common room. The boisterous Irish boy was exhausted from the day's school-wide snowball war. Everyone else was in their dorms, asleep, but Seamus couldn't get warm enough in his dorm room. From his spot on a squishy couch close to the fire, he warmed quickly and dropped off to sleep without another thought.
Seamus opened his eyes to find himself in the midst of a gentle snowfall on a city street. Looking around, he saw a figure approaching him. Instinctively, he reached for his wand, but found his pocket empty. The figure was moving closer and Seamus fell back into a fighting stance his mentor had taught him as a child. He swung at the person, missed, and fell into the snow. The person above him started laughing. Shocked, Seamus stood and found himself face-to-face with his old friend.
"Heya, Seamus-boyo. How goes life?" he drawled in his thick Irish brogue.
The boy flung his arms around the man, laughing.
"Doyle! Back from the States, I see? Had enough of the Yanks?" he joked.
Doyle laughed gently, but a sorrow tinged his eyes and tone. Seamus tilted his head in question.
The half-demon sighed. "Seam, I'm a half-demon and I died. A couple years ago. This is a dream, man."
Seamus's eyes widened. Doyle brought forth his demon face for him to see. Awed, the boy gently touched one of his blue spikes. After a moment, Doyle shifted back to normal. He smiled at his young friend and remembered the message he had.
"Seam, believe him. He's telling the truth. He needs his friends if he's going to succeed. You are a closer friend to him than you know. Trust me," he finished, ghosting a touch to Seamus's face. He leaned in, pressed a gentle kiss to the boy's forehead, and then abruptly turned and disappeared. Seamus started to yell after him...
..."Doyle!" Seamus awoke, the gray morning lighting the common room. The fire had died, leaving the room silent. Still, Seamus heard the voice of his friend-turned-guide whispering, "Trust me." Resigned, Seamus strode upstairs to get some more sleep and accept the truth from the Boy-Who-Lived, wondering when he would next see his guide.