(no subject)
Title Being an Account of the Love Life of Seamus Finnegan, Aged 16, as Told by His Rapidly Disappearing Sanity. Featuring a Full Cast of Cooing Girls, Disgusted Boys, Imaginary Squibs and Twinkle-Eyed Professors. With 1000 Elephants!
Author tea_fiend and agenttrojie
Pairing Seamus Finnegan and Albus Dumbledore. Unrequited, in this snippet at least.
Disclaimer We don't own them. If they're going to do things like this, we don't want to own them, either. The desire for Seamus/Dumbledore is the sole property of hyel
Seamus Finnegan doodled idly on the desk in front of him. It wasn’t like he ever really paid that much attention in Charms; Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice bored into his skull and made concentration seem like some diseased figment of his overheated imagination. And the other figments of said imagination that paraded in front of his inner eye this morning were far more interesting, particularly the blue-eyed, gently smiling ones. With the beards. His vulture-feather quill dug deep into the desktop, the wood made spongy by centuries of abuse and scratching from bored Charms students. The quill gouged a heart, and then ‘SF&AD 4eva’, lazily. Seamus didn't really register what he was drawing; he was too busy daydreaming of berobed, twinkle-eyed sirens.
'Who's AD then, eh?' muttered Dean in his ear. Seamus woke up, suddenly.
'What?'
'Who's AD? Is she in Ravenclaw? Or Hufflepuff?'
'No,' whispered Seamus, without thinking. He would later come to greatly regret this undue haste in answering.
'Well she's not Gryffindor or I'd know her name, unless she's a first year... or is she? You sly dog!'
'No!' hissed Seamus a trifle hastily. 'She's not in first year. And that’s disgusting, by the way.'
Dean's eyes narrowed. 'You're never dating a Slytherin.'
'No, she’s, ah, she's not at school.' That could work. Dean would have no way of exposing the slight white lie. And, in all fairness, it wasn’t like the subject of Seamus’s daydreams was a student…
Dean opened his mouth to let forth a veritable flood of questions, but the gods were obviously smiling on Seamus today, as Professor Flitwick told them to pack up and head to their next class. Fortunately that was Potions, and even Dean didn’t dare risk the wrath of Snape by asking any questions unrelated to bats’ spleens and cauldron sizes.
Seamus thought he was safe.
Dean, however, had not been idle as he muttered over his cauldron and narrowly escaped setting his eyebrows on fire several times. His fertile mind had been bubbling with possibilities, all of which he sprung on Seamus at lunchtime.
'Pass the potatoes, please Neville,' said Seamus wearily, hoping that having a full mouth would excuse him from answering Dean's queries.
'She's a werewolf! Like Professor Lupin! No, wait, she'd be at school then. She's a Muggle. You're dating a Muggle. With all these fine witches around us, your heart lies with a Muggle. Seamus, I'm ashamed of you.'
'Seamus is dating a Muggle?' asked Neville, leaning closer. 'What's her name?'
'I can't believe you're dating a Muggle,' said Parvati, swinging her plait in disgust. 'Does she know about... well, about magic and things? Will you tell her?'
'Maybe he's going to give up magic for her,' said Ron, sniggering. 'Gonna become an accountant for your girlfriend?'
'She's not a Muggle!' said Seamus hotly, his face burning with embarrassment.
'Then why's she not at school?' asked Hermione.
There was only one plausible way out of this. Curse Dean and his sharp eyes! 'She's... a Squib,' said Seamus, lamely. At Beauxbatons! his mind screamed, seconds too late. A foreign girlfriend had overtones of suave sophistication. Going by the looks on the faces around him, a Squib didn’t.
‘Well,’ said Hermione, breaking the uncomfortable silence. ‘So long as she treats you better than Filch does.’
Seamus sank lower in his chair, uncomfortable in the attention of his classmates. His eyes darted round, looking for a way out of what was quickly becoming a ludicrous conversation.
‘It’s quite romantic, really,’ Lavender announced. Parvati, next to her, nodded sagely.
‘How is it romantic?’ Dean asked. ‘Even a Muggle’d be better, because you can lie, but a Squib? You’ll be spending your entire life having to do things for her.’
Hermione elbowed him sharply in the ribs. ‘That’s not very tactful, Dean!’ she hissed, but Seamus wasn’t listening. His wandering eyes had alighted on the source of all joy in his heart, and he watched, entranced, as the object of his affections delicately nibbled a miniature sausage.
‘Seamus? I said, aren’t you even going to tell us her name?’
Albus Dumbledore.
Seamus was doomed.
Author tea_fiend and agenttrojie
Pairing Seamus Finnegan and Albus Dumbledore. Unrequited, in this snippet at least.
Disclaimer We don't own them. If they're going to do things like this, we don't want to own them, either. The desire for Seamus/Dumbledore is the sole property of hyel
Seamus Finnegan doodled idly on the desk in front of him. It wasn’t like he ever really paid that much attention in Charms; Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice bored into his skull and made concentration seem like some diseased figment of his overheated imagination. And the other figments of said imagination that paraded in front of his inner eye this morning were far more interesting, particularly the blue-eyed, gently smiling ones. With the beards. His vulture-feather quill dug deep into the desktop, the wood made spongy by centuries of abuse and scratching from bored Charms students. The quill gouged a heart, and then ‘SF&AD 4eva’, lazily. Seamus didn't really register what he was drawing; he was too busy daydreaming of berobed, twinkle-eyed sirens.
'Who's AD then, eh?' muttered Dean in his ear. Seamus woke up, suddenly.
'What?'
'Who's AD? Is she in Ravenclaw? Or Hufflepuff?'
'No,' whispered Seamus, without thinking. He would later come to greatly regret this undue haste in answering.
'Well she's not Gryffindor or I'd know her name, unless she's a first year... or is she? You sly dog!'
'No!' hissed Seamus a trifle hastily. 'She's not in first year. And that’s disgusting, by the way.'
Dean's eyes narrowed. 'You're never dating a Slytherin.'
'No, she’s, ah, she's not at school.' That could work. Dean would have no way of exposing the slight white lie. And, in all fairness, it wasn’t like the subject of Seamus’s daydreams was a student…
Dean opened his mouth to let forth a veritable flood of questions, but the gods were obviously smiling on Seamus today, as Professor Flitwick told them to pack up and head to their next class. Fortunately that was Potions, and even Dean didn’t dare risk the wrath of Snape by asking any questions unrelated to bats’ spleens and cauldron sizes.
Seamus thought he was safe.
Dean, however, had not been idle as he muttered over his cauldron and narrowly escaped setting his eyebrows on fire several times. His fertile mind had been bubbling with possibilities, all of which he sprung on Seamus at lunchtime.
'Pass the potatoes, please Neville,' said Seamus wearily, hoping that having a full mouth would excuse him from answering Dean's queries.
'She's a werewolf! Like Professor Lupin! No, wait, she'd be at school then. She's a Muggle. You're dating a Muggle. With all these fine witches around us, your heart lies with a Muggle. Seamus, I'm ashamed of you.'
'Seamus is dating a Muggle?' asked Neville, leaning closer. 'What's her name?'
'I can't believe you're dating a Muggle,' said Parvati, swinging her plait in disgust. 'Does she know about... well, about magic and things? Will you tell her?'
'Maybe he's going to give up magic for her,' said Ron, sniggering. 'Gonna become an accountant for your girlfriend?'
'She's not a Muggle!' said Seamus hotly, his face burning with embarrassment.
'Then why's she not at school?' asked Hermione.
There was only one plausible way out of this. Curse Dean and his sharp eyes! 'She's... a Squib,' said Seamus, lamely. At Beauxbatons! his mind screamed, seconds too late. A foreign girlfriend had overtones of suave sophistication. Going by the looks on the faces around him, a Squib didn’t.
‘Well,’ said Hermione, breaking the uncomfortable silence. ‘So long as she treats you better than Filch does.’
Seamus sank lower in his chair, uncomfortable in the attention of his classmates. His eyes darted round, looking for a way out of what was quickly becoming a ludicrous conversation.
‘It’s quite romantic, really,’ Lavender announced. Parvati, next to her, nodded sagely.
‘How is it romantic?’ Dean asked. ‘Even a Muggle’d be better, because you can lie, but a Squib? You’ll be spending your entire life having to do things for her.’
Hermione elbowed him sharply in the ribs. ‘That’s not very tactful, Dean!’ she hissed, but Seamus wasn’t listening. His wandering eyes had alighted on the source of all joy in his heart, and he watched, entranced, as the object of his affections delicately nibbled a miniature sausage.
‘Seamus? I said, aren’t you even going to tell us her name?’
Albus Dumbledore.
Seamus was doomed.