Author's Note: Okay. I realize that a lot of you probably were under the impression that I was dead or something. However, I'm alive, and have written a chapter for several fics that I'm currently working on in the hopes that you all won't kill me. A fair few should be updated today, so there. I WAS gonna do it yesterday, but I figured with the whole internet strike thing, I should try and show my support as well.

Relatively Important: For this chapter, I have added a few footnotes, so watch for the little stars by a few select words. Also, there's more Gaeilge (Irish) language in this chapter, so watch for that. To find out what the hell Seamus is actually saying, you can simply copy and paste into google translate. However, if you guys simply want me to put the translations at the bottom, leave that in a review and I'll do that for you guys. Otherwise, happy reading, and I hope you enjoy!


"Oh Merlin's pants! Why did I let you talk me into taking this feckin' stupid class?" Seamus said irritably.

He was staring down at his Arithmancy tables and trying to figure out what the bloody hell they even meant. They clearly couldn't be right, for they currently predicted that he would die at age twelve. Even if he suffered some freak assassination at this very moment, the mark would be off by about four years already.

Seamus wasn't the best at math, which probably should have been a good sign to not take Arithmancy, of all subjects. When he had gone to muggle primary school, a suggestion from his father, he had been too busy informing the other students of his mother's entertaining magical endeavors instead of paying attention to the mathematics instructor. Due to his 'fabricated stories to the other children', he had been pulled out within two days and instead was homeschooled by his mother. Unfortunately, even her firm methods of teaching weren't enough to build up his knowledge with numbers. All of this, accompanied with his failure in Professor Trelawney's class, should have been a clear sign to just drop Arithmancy and Divination, and give it up as a bad job. Clearly, his future was destined to remain a mystery, and he should just stop bloody trying to predict it already.

But Dean had wanted him to take it, so naturally, he had agreed on the spot.

"Because you love me," Dean answered, grinning mischievously.

Seamus gulped. If he only knew how dangerously close that statement was to reality, he wouldn't be throwing it around so lightly.

"Now, if you have added the number of syllables in your first and last name to the number of syllables in your middle name or names, then you may look on the chart to see how many children you are to have mid-life," Professor Vector said at the head of the class. "Unfortunately, mid-life refers back to chapter twelve, when we calculated our life-span using the number of steps we take throughout the day multiplied by the number of letters in the first half of your first name and the second half of your last name. If you had an odd number of letters in either name, you were instructed to round upwards instead of downwards. However, when we divide that number by the number of times your heart beats within a minute, we usually come up with a non-decimal. If not, then you are infertile. Any questions?"

Seamus's head thudded on the desk.


Eventually, the horrid class ended, and Seamus was free for another two days until he would be forced to explain his miscalculations to Professor Vector again. He gave a mighty sigh as he walked out into the hallway. Clean, non-mathematic air. Just the way magic intended.

Dean chuckled at his obvious relief, gazing over at him with those capturing blue eyes. Seamus looked away so that he wouldn't have to see them.

"What do we have next?" he asked, shaking his sandy hair out of his eyes. His mother would no doubt force him into a chair and cut it short again once he went home for the holidays. He sort of liked it a bit longer like this, though. He was more able to hide that way.

"Transfiguration," Dean said simply.

"Oh, are we doing that thing with the Puffskeins today?" Seamus asked, his eyes widening.

Seamus wasn't exactly sure, but he reckoned messing with the gender of a species could only go badly, especially for himself. His spells, when done wrong, tended to end in…explosive situations. Not all of them, mind. He had long since mastered a great deal of spells due to proper instruction and the occasional calming draught. Apparently, it was his hyper-active minor anxiety that caused him to become too nervous before performing a spell or to panic at the last minute, which then resulted in effects that mirrored his weird condition. Madame Pomfery said it was a slight imbalance that needed a bit of tending to, but his parents said he was just dramatic. However, Madame Pomfery had said that there was no harm in coming in every so often for a light calming draught to help him with his studies. Truthfully, he wished he had them all the time, but Seamus had just been to see her last week, so he should be stable enough to perform this new spell.

There was no need to worry.

It was just a bit disturbing at the same time. He knew that, if he were a Puffskein, he certainly wouldn't want some bloke coming up and transfiguring his bod into a fhaighin.

They entered the room and sat down. Nervously, as was habit, Seamus checked around the room to see if Harry and Ron were there yet. He didn't fancy sitting next to them today when they would be examining the sexual organs of animals. Things were uncomfortable enough with them around now that he had to try and block out images of them all up against each other and…other things.

As if on cue, both of them walked through the door, accompanied by Hermione Granger. Seamus wondered if she knew about their activities while she wasn't present. Judging by the carefree way she was speaking to them and laughing, he guessed not. Not that he had expected them to tell a soul anyways. He certainly hadn't about himself.

Luckily, they sat across the room, so he wasn't forced to relinquish another quill to Potter.

"Alright class. Class!" Professor McGonagall barked as she stood behind her desk. Voices died down under her heavy stare and she continued. "Today, we will be transforming Puffskeins as discussed on Tuesday's lesson. Now, I want it understood that I expect a mature approach to this," her eyes narrowed. "There will be no need for juvenile behavior in this class. Is that understood?"

A reluctant murmur of agreement travelled through the room. They all knew what it meant. No making fun of the Puffskeins' privates.

She passed out the little fluffy balls of fur, each a different primary color, and told them to get to work. As soon as Seamus's Puffskein landed on his desk with a barely audible squeak, he pulled out his wand and took a deep, calming breath. Pointing his wand at the small ball of fur, he concentrated on the purpose of the spell. He might as well get the horrific parts over with sooner rather than later.

"Muto Genitalis!" he announced, pointing his wand at the poor unsuspecting Puffskein.

It squeaked again, but otherwise just sat there and continued sniffing at his parchment notes. The little fluff-ball didn't change.

"What? I said it right, didn't I?" Seamus said indignantly.

Dean, who had been observing over his shoulder, nodded. He didn't seem to notice that his own Puffskein had partially consumed half of his eraser*.

"Sounded right to me, mate."

Seamus lifted the tiny creature and peered between its stubby little legs. Apparently it had worked, there just weren't any other defining features pertaining to gender besides the obvious. What had once been a boy Puffskein was now, clearly, a female.

"Well that's lovely," Seamus huffed, setting the small animal down again. It shuffled over to his notes and began nibbling on the corner. "That's the way we have to tell? I don't fancy having to look down there every time I do this."

"Not to mention, why on Earth would anybody ever need this spell in the first place?" Dean added dryly. He pointed his own wand at his respective Puffskein and repeated the same spell.

The Puffskein squeaked, just as Seamus's had, but otherwise made no acknowledgement that its genitalia had just switched to that of a different sex. Seamus couldn't help but think that, again, were he in the Puffskein's shoes, he would have definitely noticed. Perhaps gender identity wasn't as important to animals…

The lesson continued on, however, despite the Puffskeins' lack of activity. To his slight surprise, all of Seamus's attempts worked without flaw, and he managed to switch his Puffskein several times successfully. He was glad, too. He figured it would have been a bit traumatic if the small creature were to suddenly explode or spontaneously combust.

"Well done mister Finnigan," McGonagall said curtly as he handed his Puffskein back to her at the end of the lesson.

"Sorry mate," Seams grimaced at the little fluff ball. It squeaked and stared back with its huge innocent eyes. If it only knew the horrible experiments he had just put it through, it probably wouldn't be nuzzling his hand so affectionately like that.

McGonagall took the poor creature and put it back in the box with the others. It was lost in the mass of multicolored fur, never to be recognized by him again. It was here that Seamus still realized how badly he had wanted a Puffskein before, enough to even knick one from a shop ages ago. Though perhaps, after this lesson, he could live without one…

"I've got to go to the Jacks**," Seamus said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. They wandered out the door and Dean gave him an odd look.

"Mad Irishman, I have no idea what you just said," he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"I may be mad, but Tá fir na hÉireann go tarraingteach," Seamus replied cockily. He walked down the hall, leaving Dean in his wake as he shook his head and laughed.

Luckily, there was a bathroom just down the hall, and so Seamus slipped inside quickly. He hadn't been lying just to get away. He had to piss like a banshee.

Shivering at the thought of the horrible creature, one he had seen in his boggart more times than he was okay with, he tried to avoid thinking of death and crazy screaming women and instead use the loo like he had originally intended.

Sweet relief.

When he was done and all that, tucking everything back where it was concealed from the general public, and when he had washed his hands, Seamus turned to the door to head down for lunch. Perhaps he would get there in time to sit next to Dean and his sniveling harpy of a girlfriend.

Joy.

But when he saw a certain redheaded Weasley standing by the door, eerily quiet, he almost jumped out of his very skin.

"Woah, Jesus Ron, you scared the shite out of me – "

"Oy, what's up with you?" Ron cut across him, sounding stern.

Seamus shifted uncomfortably, wondering what exactly he was planning. Perhaps they had changed their minds about the whole memory-wiping thing. "What d'you mean?"

"I mean you've been acting weird for a while. Ever since you found out about me and Harry."

"I dunno what you're talking about," he said stubbornly. What was he supposed to say? He was having difficulty getting their freaky noises out of his thoughts, and every time he saw them was like walking in on their 'private' moment all over again? Not likely.

"Is it because we're in the same dorm, or something?" Ron asserted, gesturing a bit wildly. "Because it's not like we're gonna come up and molest you."

"I didn't even say – "

"Well then, what?" Weasley's eyes narrowed in a demanding way.

He gulped slightly, stepping back. The man was insane. The thought that Seamus, who had been doting after his best friend for ages, was actually some sort of homophobic coward was laughable. He had realized he was gay way before Weasley had even started up with Potter. Which, he still had no bloody idea how that would even occur in the first place. If Seamus had thought that both of them were straight, then obviously he was missing something here.

"I just…you two have been friends for a while. How did that even happen?" he muttered. He couldn't help it. He was curious.

"I dunno," Ron shrugged. "I realized that he liked me and I liked him, so we…er…started seeing each other. I took a chance and decided to go for it."

Seamus couldn't believe it was that easy. There had to have been loads of difficult things in the way before they had even thought of getting all cozy in bed. Hadn't there?

"But…how did you know he liked you?" Seamus whispered. He didn't know why he was being so quiet, but it felt almost too secret to even discuss in an empty toilet.

"I…er…well, that's not important," Ron said hastily. "I just did."

Seamus felt his shoulders slump. He had been hoping for some clues. Some way to make his search easier. Some way to find someone like him, like Harry and Ron. Someone who was into blokes too. But no, either it had just been that easy, like everything was for bloody Potter and Weasley, or Ron wasn't keen on sharing.

"Wait…so why were you acting so weird then?" Ron asked, looking suspicious.

Seamus sighed heavily.

"I suppose…if I know your secret…" he reasoned with himself. If Ron and Harry knew his, maybe he wouldn't keep being ambushed while he was trying to piss. They would be on an even footing. Plus, if they told anyone, he could ruin them in return... "Okay," he said, closing his eyes.

"What is it?" Ron asked, sounding wary.

"Well…" Seamus started slowly, "You know how Dean and I are like, best mates and stuff?"

"Yeah," Ron said, blue eyes growing wide.

"Well, I sort of…er…I mean…ergh, I dunno," he backpedalled, stepping farther away and scratching the back of his neck. Perhaps he shouldn't. He had never told a soul, except for his mother. No one…

"You like him?" Ron said, looking shocked.

Seamus flinched. He could feel his face ignite, bringing with it a strong blush. Damn Weasley and his perceptiveness…

"Yeah," he said in defeat. It was too late now…

"Really?" Ron said incredulously.

"I think so," Seamus said forebodingly. Like it was even a question anymore. "You can't tell anyone, though! Especially not him."

Ron held up his hands, backing away slightly.

"I won't," he sounded reassuring. "I'm just…wow."

"I know," Seamus groaned, leaning against the wall. God, why did he have to open his stupid mouth? Now he probably looked pathetic. Driven along by hopeless longing, wanting someone he clearly couldn't have…

"Wait, so in the showers yesterday, why were you hiding?" Ron asked, frowning.

Seamus groaned again and buried his face in his hands, feeling mortified. Perceptiveness…

"Merlin…he was showering next to me! I couldn't…I mean…God, and then everybody looked at me…" he choked out from behind his hands. He might as well get it all out now. Admitting that he had been hiding an erection while trying not to ogle his best friend was just another tick on the long list of horrors…

"I'm sorry," Ron gasped, sounding as mortified as he felt. "I had no idea, I just assumed – "

"No, I know," Seamus said. He had heard Weasley's accusations. "It actually gave me an excuse to tell Nev. I just…I dunno what to do."

"Well, you know Dean's dating Ginny, right?" Ron said sympathetically.

"Yeah, I know," Seamus said sadly. As if it had escaped anybody's notice. But the thought of Dean dating, and his interest in girls, reminded him of how much of a shock Harry and Ron's whole thing had been to him. He recalled a few memories of the raven-haired boy and his charm with the females, which confused Seamus even more now. "But wasn't Harry dating that Cho girl last year? And Parvati before?" he said, wondering what Weasley's take on this was.

"Er…yeah," Ron said hesitantly.

"But I know it's hopeless," Seamus said, slumping back against the wall. There was no mistaking Ginny's effect on Dean, just as there was no mistaking what Harry and Ron did in the privacy of their bed-hangings. Everyone was either snogging or groping someone else, and he had no one…

"Maybe not," Weasley said quickly. "I know that Ginny and Dean have been fighting a lot recently. I'm not too sure I want her slobbering all over another boy anyways, so maybe, if we fuel the fire a bit…"

"Really?" Seamus looked up. He hadn't really stuck around enough to see the treachery that was that little coppertop hanging all over Dean, so he had no idea what their relationship was actually like. All he had was Dean's occasional complaints about the girl. But it was true that they had just had an argument not long ago. About the date at the lake…just a few days ago…

"But there's still the issue of him wanting to date her that's the problem," Ron said, grimacing. "You don't know if he…you know, likes blokes at all?"

"No," Seamus shook his head. "He's only dated her, and he obviously won't just mention it over lunch one day, so I have no idea."

They had obviously never talked about it, or he wouldn't be moping around behind Dean's back like this. Plus, he hated to admit it, but he didn't want to break up Dean's relationship if it meant that they were bloody happy together. He was fine with hating her from a distance, but to actually turn them against each other would feel…well…evil, to say the least. He had to let them do it on their own. If Weasley was right, perhaps it would be sooner than he thought…

"Well maybe you could…er…" Ron sighed. "Look, when I knew Harry liked me, I started hinting at it a lot. So maybe, if you just say things without actually sounding like you're making a move, you can see how he reacts. Stuff with double meanings, or something like that."

"Okay," Seamus said, confused.

"Or, I dunno," Ron continued, sounding as though he were instructing a small child in the ways of seduction, "you could like, walk around with your shirt off, 'accidentally' brush against him, wrestle around a bit too close. You see what I mean?"

"Yeah, I get it," he said, nodding. He actually chuckled, and managed not to feel so miserable. Weasley was giving him advice on how to pick up blokes?

"So, are you gonna stop being weird around us now?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I'll try," Seamus said, grimacing. "But…you know...I did hear a few things…so it's been hard to…you know…look at either of you right."

As it rightly should.

"Sorry," Ron said, laughing and blushing slightly. "Well, I have to go to Potions. See you later…"

He turned to leave, and Seamus felt glad to still have his memories in his own head. He watched Weasley haul the door open and prepare to walk outside.

"Oi, Ron?"

He paused at the door and looked back.

"Yeah?"

"Er…thanks…" Seamus said awkwardly. For what, he wasn't sure.

Weasley smiled. "No problem."


"Soith," Seamus muttered venomously as he watched from across the room.

He was completing his nightly routine by distantly insulting Ginny Weasley while she continued to use her beastly woman charms on Dean. She pulled out all the bloody stops, too. Batting her eyelashes, stroking his hand lovingly, cooing sweet nothings into his ear. To Seamus's grim satisfaction, however, he didn't seem to be buying it this time. Dean looked irritated and put out, as if he wished he were anywhere else. Seamus knew he shouldn't feel so delighted while his best friend was suffering, but it was difficult not to. Perhaps he was more evil than he had originally thought.

She was losing. They were fighting, and she was losing. Perhaps, in the end, it would be Seamus who won this time…

He had little hope.

In order to avoid the nauseating scene, Seamus let his eyes scan lazily around the common room. He had a mountain of homework that he could very well be doing, but hell if he wouldn't procrastinate as long as possible on it. He wondered if Weasley would be able to knick Granger's star chart for him. He still hadn't finished it yet…

When his eyes fell on Ron, though, he noticed his face was extremely pink. His blue eyes kept darting up to Harry, who was sitting nonchalantly across from him. It didn't escape Seamus's notice that their bags were strategically placed at either side of the table, blocking whatever was going on underneath from the view of the common room.

"Oh Merlin," he sighed, looking away. Now he had two things to avoid staring at.

Across the room, Parvati was nattering on about her most recent piece of jewelry to anyone who would listen. That group seemed to be dwindling, however, and her high-pitched giggles became more desperate as students began to wander away from the crowd. And he thought he had issues with being noticed…

Longbottom was absent from the common room altogether. Well, that was interesting, concerning the sudden relationship status change he had gone through recently. He was probably out snogging the insane blonde girl at this very moment. However, if anyone needed a good snogging, it was Neville. Good on him, really.

"Going to bed!"

The dull roar of the common room faltered slightly as Weasley stood there, looking a bit mad. His face was red and his hair tousled, giving him the appearance of someone who either had a strong fever, or was immensely sexually frustrated.

The redhead flew up the stairs at lightning speed, the whip of his robes being the only sign of his departure.

"I should probably go too," Potter said hurriedly, stuffing his books back into his bag. "Perhaps he's coming down with that Dragon Pox or whatever…"

Seamus rolled his eyes. Harry rushed up the stairs after Weasley, sounding no more convincing than that rumor of the Quintaped that had supposedly inhabited the boy's bathroom on the third floor.

Idiots.

He let his head loll back against the cushy armchair, trying to regain a bit of the happiness that seemed to be all but vanished this year. He was alone, silent, and brooding now, which unfortunately seemed to be the new norm. How was he meant to ignore his homework if real life was just as boring as the actual work itself? Seamus knew that tomorrow was the day they left for holiday, at least, so he would be able to entertain himself more at home. Perhaps he should actually get some of the assignments done beforehand, and then he wouldn't have to work on them later.

He chuckled at his own little joke. Who was he, Granger?

Twisting awkwardly in the armchair, much like a cat, Seamus reached down to pick up the abandoned issue of 'Mounting the Best Monthly' that somebody had left there. He already had a new broom, of course, but it was better entertainment than hearing about the self-polishing charm on Patil's necklace that she was bragging about. Though, he hadn't known those existed. Perhaps he could manage to place it on his broom. But then, his servicing kit wouldn't get any use, and he rather liked the feeling of making it all bright and shiny after a good ride…

"Dean, I'm just saying, it's getting stupid!"

"Ginny, I can't help it if I like buying you things."

"Well you make me feel like some sort of poor trash because I can't give you anything except – "

"I'm not asking you for anything!"

"Yeah, but two Christmas presents? It's not even Christmas yet!"

"Fine! Since you can't just say bloody 'thank you' like a decent human being, I won't get you anything at all! Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted?"

"Don't be an arse!"

"I'm not being an arse! I'm just trying to give you a fucking present!" Dean bellowed.

Everyone in the common room was watching by now, enthralled by the loud row. Seamus's arm was still reaching for the magazine, but he was frozen in place, joining the hushed spectators.

"I don't even wear jewelry," she snapped, her brown eyes ablaze.

"Well my bloody mistake," Dean retorted, raising his hands in mock defense. "I thought maybe since you had said 'oh that's pretty', that perhaps you liked it! But apparently 'oh that's pretty' means 'don't buy me a necklace, Dean, because I'll only hate it later'!"

"I was just commenting on it, I didn't mean you had to buy it and make a big production!"

"A production?" he said sounding outraged. "I gave it to you in the hallway between classes! How is that a bloody production?"

"Oh, you were hanging around all proud like you were the Minister himself," she sneered. "'Look at all my wealth, Ginny! Dance beneath the flow of my many Galleons'!"

"I hung around to see you open – you know what? You're just – " Dean rubbed his forehead and laughed shortly, " – you're just not a nice person, Gin. I didn't flaunt anything, and in case you haven't noticed, I'm not the richest person in the world."

"Then how could you afford something like that?" she brandished at a silvery object on one of the tables next to them.

"Do you even have bloody ears?" Dean gestured wildly. "I said I bought it for you! I spent all the money I had on that thing, because I thought you might fucking like it!"

"You – all your money?" Ginny scoffed. She was clearly caught off guard by this statement, yet trying to keep her bitchy demeanor.

"Yes, idiot!" he shouted. "You know what – just take it back and get whatever you want. Happy fucking Christmas."

Dean stormed off up the stairs, heading for the boys' dorm.

An immensely uncomfortable silence followed his absence. The redhead growled, snatched up the necklace, and stormed off up to her own dormitory. Her fading footsteps echoed up the stairs, stomping heavily all the way.

The second that wooden door slammed shut, everyone started talking at once.

Accusatory murmurs echoed throughout the common room. Muttered statements of 'I can't believe that!' and 'what a horrible thing to say!' were exchanged. The rumors that followed this one wouldn't be pleasant, and especially not in the Weasley girl's favor.

Seamus tried not to smile. It nearly broke his face muscles, but he managed to keep the glee on the inside for once.

She had completely been in the wrong. There was no way to deny it this time. Her attitude, her nasty assumptions, and her ugly expression throughout the whole thing clearly proved that she had blown it big time. The fact that she thought Dean was wealthy was obviously a sign that she barely knew him at all anyways. If Dean had ever given him something so expensive, he would take it as a bloody compliment.

Didn't she know that Dean practically had as many brothers as she did? Didn't she know that his stepfather was a barman and his mother was a housemaid? Didn't she know that his parents worked their fingers to the bone, only to obtain muggle money that he only got a small portion of and always had to transfer at Gringott's before he could spend it? Didn't she know how important it had been that he had bought that stupid necklace?

Seamus felt the thrill of happiness inside him turn to sickening guilt. Dean had made a gesture of kindness towards the girl, and she had thrown it back in his face. His best friend was suffering because of her. Again.

"Soith," Seamus sighed, heaving himself out of his chair.


"You okay?" he said tentatively, standing just outside the curtains of Dean's four-poster.

"Yes," came an exasperated voice.

"Want me to bugger off?"

"Not sure yet."

"You can reserve the right to kick me out," Seamus said hopefully.

"Fair enough. Come on in."

Seamus opened the curtain and slipped inside. Dean was sitting cross-legged atop the blankets, picking moodily at a small hole in the fabric. His dark, loose curls hung in his eyes, causing a shadow to fall over the top of his face.

He didn't look happy.

Seamus clambered atop the bed as well, sitting opposite Dean. He hesitated.

"That wasn't nice," he said simply, pointing out the obvious.

"No, it wasn't," Dean sighed, not looking up from his important task.

"What d'you think – ?"

"It's just stupid!" Dean burst out angrily. He continued in a hush, probably under the impression that Harry and Ron were asleep. Seamus suspected not, however. "She just does that all the time. Whenever money comes up, she freaks! I get that she hasn't got any, I do! But what the bloody hell do I do! I just wanted to – to get her something nice so that she could have it, you know? Isn't that the point of a present? To give people things they can't get for themselves?"

Seamus nodded. He had a point.

"But it's not just that. She seems so closed off all the time," Dean said, rubbing his forehead agitatedly. Seamus nodded again, letting him rant it all out. It looked long overdue. "I mean, she always has, but I figured after a while she'd get over it, you know? Open up a bit more. But she hasn't, and now I think that's just the way she is. All monotone and…boring."

"Well, maybe she doesn't want what you want," Seamus said hopefully. "Maybe she thinks, you know, by giving her that, it's a bit more serious for you than it is for her."

"I've been thinking that for a while now," Dean said sadly, running a hand through his dark hair. "That maybe…I dunno. Maybe she's done with me."

A grave silence followed these words. Seamus was unsure what to think.

"What d'you mean, exactly?" Seamus said carefully.

"I dunno," Dean replied warily. "Sometimes I feel like…like I'm being used. I mean, it's stupid, because it's been too long for that, hasn't it? If this was some weird vengeance date for Michael or whatever, she wouldn't have hung on this long."

"Yeah," Seamus said nervously.

"And sometimes it's going great, and we're happy," he said, raising his head a little. "But then other times it seems like she doesn't even like me at all. Like just a few minutes ago, in fact. I dunno what to make of it. I just thought it was mood swings or something birds have to deal with, right? But I don't hear of it from anybody else."

"What about Neville and Lovegood?" Seamus said. "They're bound to have problems, especially with how mad she is and all."

"Not from what I hear," Dean pouted. He raised his knees and drew them towards his chest in a brooding way. "Sounds right peachy the way he describes it. Even with him constantly having to check for Swindleorfs or whatever."

"Ah," Seamus hesitated, not wanting to say what was really on his mind.

"She does mention Harry a lot, too," Dean said in a biting tone, as if he were reading Seamus's mind.

He grimaced slightly.

"Yeah, I was…I was wondering about that," he said slowly.

"What d'you mean?" Dean shot.

"Well, it's just that…every girl has at least mentioned Potter at some point. But she seems to do it…a fair bit more," Seamus finished carefully.

It was true. The few times Seamus had suffered her presence, each one had consisted of no fewer than three comments about 'The Chosen One'. She may not know how obvious it was, and perhaps not many people picked up on it, but he had had his suspicions.

"They're friends, though," Dean reasoned. He sounded a bit pleading.

"Are they, though?" Seamus said, raising an eyebrow. "Ron's closer than she is, after all."

A lot closer than anyone suspects, he added silently.

Dean sat up straighter, looking a bit defiant.

"Well, so what then? D'you think I'm some sort of…pawn, or something?"

"No," Seamus said quickly.

He wasn't even bloody sure himself. Seamus didn't want to plant seeds for the sole reason of his own benefit. That wasn't the right way to go about this, no matter how much he fancied his best friend.

He just didn't want to see Dean get hurt.

The other boy sighed and rested his chin on his knees. He still looked unhappy, and Seamus couldn't decide what to feel.

On the one hand, he was allowing hope to build, filling his chest with the prospect of Dean being all to himself again. If he was doubting the morality behind his girlfriend, perhaps this would be the end after all. But on the other, Seamus knew that even if Dean broke it off, or the Weasley girl tossed him aside, it would still be a sad ending. He would be upset, and it would spoil Seamus's victory. And Dean would still be straight.

Seamus wouldn't win. He would never win. Not against Ginevra, and not against any of the other girls in the world. Dean would pick all of them before he picked Seamus.

"Say something cool," Dean's voice muttered quietly.

"Riamh bheidh mé bua," Seamus choked out.

"What did you say?"

"I said 'have a nice day'."


Footnotes:

* At this point, I was fully aware that 'erasers' over there are referred to as 'rubbers'. However, I just couldn't do it and make it sound not-raunchy in my head. I'm sorry.

** Irish slang for 'bathroom'.