Disclaimer: None of it's mine, sadly.
Summary: "How do you do it, mate?" Dean asked, a bizarrely admiring smile gracing his face. "It's 'cause I'm Irish, mate." Dedicated to everyone's favourite Irish Gryffindor.
A/N: This little drabble was inspired by the news of Irish being voted the sexiest accent. I wholeheartedly agree! I have an Irish teacher at school and I practically drool when he speaks. I also noticed a severe lack of Seamus Finnegan stories, so I figured I'd add to it! This is set at about Harry and the gang's 5th year. Review please!
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The Gryffindor common room was unusually quiet, save for one male voice. It was loud and confident as the speaker was surrounded by the majority of female Gryffindors. Harry and Ron were stunned to find that even Hermione and Ginny were simpering at his every word.
They shared a confused look with Dean and the three simultaneously shrugged. "I don't know," Dean spoke quietly his eyebrow raising. "Amortentia's my bet."
"Gotta be, doesn't it?" Ron added. "But how'd he manage to slip it to all the girls. I mean, look at Ginny and Hermione!"
Harry shrugged at this question. "Maybe it's not Amortentia. Maybe it's just sheer Irish luck?"
Dean raised his eyebrow even higher at Harry's pitiful attempt at a joke. "He's not a leprechaun, Harry."
The three, plus all the other boys continued to watch with utter shock and amazement as the girls giggled pathetically. Eventually Dean could take it no more. He strode with a purpose over to Seamus' seat and leaned over the back of it, talking into his best friend's ear.
"How do you do it mate?" he asked, a bizarrely admiring smile on his face.
"It's just 'cause I'm Irish, mate."