Hello, My Name is Seamus and I'm a Slut-aholic . . .
Part 4/6 By Kelly M.
hermindkillsyahoo.ca
"Seamus?"
"Why were you yelling, Fin?"
"Oy, are you alright in there?"
Great, just what Draco needed: Weasley, Thomas and Longbottom bursting in and ruining his little session with the Irish Gryffindor by whipping him soundly. What were they doing near the library anyway? He'd be surprised if they could even read. They pounded furiously on the door and Draco thanked himself for having the foresight to use a sealing charm.
"Um . . . er . . . I'm fine," Finnigan called back, "I just . . . uh . . . I . . ." Draco stared at Finnigan, waiting for him to come up with something. The Gryffindor just stared back, wide-eyed with panicky fear.
Never leave a Gryffindor to do a Slytherin's job. Draco sighed and beckoned him closer, whispering in his ear, "You stubbed your toe."
Finnigan looked at him, thoroughly perplexed. "No I didn't," he whispered back.
"Oh, for the love of . . ." Draco rubbed his temples. "/Say/ you stubbed your toe. That's why you were yelling."
"Oh/right./" Finnigan's voice rose to a yell, "I just stubbed my toe, I'm alright now." Draco sighed in relief, they had just dodged a bullet. Those annoying twits would leave now.
"Uh, Fin? Why's the door locked?"
Draco cursed silently in his head, stupid Thomas and his stupid logical questions. He could tell Finnigan to say it locked behind him by accident, but that would bring help and teachers and then the inevitable horror of having to explain why Seamus and himself were locked in a bathroom. He could say that Peeves broke the handle, but again, help would be brought and the door knob would clearly still be intact, bringing more uncomfortable explanations.
Once again, Finnigan struggled for a response and Draco cringed as he opened his mouth. That boy just couldn't lie well. "Uh, I'm naked." Draco could hear an audible pause outside the door. Heck, he was pretty shocked himself.
Finally, a squeaky voiced Thomas called out, "Did someone take your clothes?"
Finnigan winked at him, clearly suppressing a grin, "Nope. I just wanted to be."
"Oh . . . alright." He mouthed 'He's picturing me naked' to Draco, who couldn't keep from grinning a bit himself. "We'll see you back at the room then, Fin."
"Alright, thanks fellas."
There was a shuffle outside as the trio left and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, no more yelling."
The normally pale Finnigan was flushed and beaming, "Did you see that? I came up with a lie."
Draco shook his head, trying hard not to laugh in spite of himself. "Necessity is the mother of invention."
"Huh?"
"You were desperate for a lie so one just came to you," He smirked indulgently. "Though now that you've told people you're naked, we're going to have to leave here at separate times."
Draco clapped his hands together briskly, all business again, and slid off the sink, circling Finnigan who was still grinning proudly. The hair was a little mousy, but they could fix that. He was short but well-proportioned, nice shoulders and excellent eyes, a greyish blue with a sparkle, like Finnigan was trying to get away with something. Draco mused as to what that something could possibly be. "Hmm."
Finnigan looked at him anxiously and Draco snapped out of his thoughts; thoughts he most certainly shouldn't be having about the git of a Gryffindor he was trying to help snag someone else. "What that a good 'hmm,' or a bad 'hmm?'"
No sense boosting his ego more than need be. "It was a decent 'hmm.' With a little work, you will definitely have Thomas' attention."
Finnigan eyed him skeptically, "What kind of work?"
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Seamus wriggled as the long thin fingers tickled his head, the strange sensation of sticky gel and Malfoy tugging his generally flat hair into little spikes. He was promptly scolded with a sharp, "Sit still!"
"Sorry."
There was sigh from behind him, where Malfoy stood between him and the mirror, "No, you're not. You are Seamus Finnigan and . . . "
"And I don't need to apologize," he finished with a laugh.
"Right." Seamus had to admit Malfoy had an interesting philosophy. It was as if, just by thinking he was superior and sexy, he really became so. Not that Seamus was going to change the way he did things after this week was up, he still believed making people laugh and flirting shamelessly was the way to go, but it was interesting nonetheless. At least he finally understood what made the standoffish boy tick. "Okay, we're fixing your horrid hair, you've made detailed notes on how to be 'sexy but not slutty' like me," Seamus could hear the amusement in Malfoy's voice, "and now all we have to worry about is clothes."
"My hair was horrid?" Sure it was short and didn't really /do/ anything, but it wasn't dirty or ratty or something.
"It was boring. Boring does not attract attention."
"All right fine." Seamus shook his head in resignation, "Wait, what's wrong with my clothes?"
"Again, boring."
"We all wear black robes. How are mine more boring than anyone else's?"
This brought another withered sigh from Malfoy. Honestly, Seamus wasn't trying to be difficult. "Not your classroom clothes. What do you wear around the common room?"
"I dunno, whatever's fairly clean."
"Wear royal blue. I know it sounds cheesy but it'll bring out your eyes." Seamus noticed for the first time that Malfoy was wearing a slate grey sweater, slightly darker than his eyes. Hmm. "And go with something with a higher neck, it'll show off your shoulders and draw attention away from your short torso."
No one had ever informed Seamus his torso was short. You learned something new every day, he supposed. It didn't feel abnormally short. He squirmed to try and see himself in the mirror, but a firm hand held him in place. "Alright, any other tips?"
"You room with Thomas, right?"
"Yeah."
"What do you wear to bed?" Why did what he wore to bed matter? He was sleeping, Dean didn't care about stuff like that. Or at least, he didn't think he did.
"Usually an old t-shirt and sweat pants."
"With boxers or briefs?"
Seamus eyed Malfoy skeptically. "Isn't that a little personal?"
"Do you want my advice or not? I could just go and tell Thomas about your stupid little plan."
"No, no. Fine, boxers."
"What kind?"
"Today they're blue plaid"
"That can work." Malfoy had moved around to the front of Seamus' head and put his hand on his chin, "Plaid isn't bad. Wear just your boxers to bed tonight."
"But I'll be cold."
"Suck it up, buttercup. Do you want Thomas or not?"
"Yes."
"Then deal with being cold." Malfoy backed away, squinting at Seamus with one eye. "Okay, I'm finished." He allowed Seamus to examine himself in the mirror. "It's not brilliant or anything but . . ."
Seamus stepped closer to his reflection, he looked, well, different, older, and the gel darkened his hair to a deep brown. "No, it's great."
Dean Thomas, look out.
