Seamus Finnigan flopped down next to Ron. He turned to him and batted his eyelashes, giving Ron his best winsome smile. "Go on, Ron, tell me who it is. There's hardly been any scandal around here lately, it's high time someone generated some."
"And that someone won't be me," Ron said waspishly, sidling away from Seamus, closer to the fireplace. Seamus simply responded by shifting closer to Ron again, pressing his shoulder against Ron's as he tried to wheedle an answer out of him.
Ron groaned. "No, Seamus, NO."
Seamus pouted. "Yes, Seamus, yesss."
"Stop that." Ron didn't like how suggestive that sounded at all. Thankfully there was no one else in the common room, just he and Seamus. On second thought, Ron was beginning to doubt that was such a good thing after all.
Seamus grinned, pleased to have visibly ruffled Ron's calm, which had already been quite shaky to begin with. He leaned even closer and started rubbing up against Ron in a slow, sensual movement, put on his best bedroom voice and moaned, "Oh yes, Ron, oh yessss..."
"Stop it!" Ron jerked away from Seamus and ended up leaning into the fireplace and setting fire to his robes. "Argh! I'm on fire!"
A hasty scramble for wands ensued, together with a lot of yelping (mostly from Ron), amused laughter (only from Seamus), and creative swearing from them both as they tried to remember the Water spells they'd learned during class. Ron clearly didn't function very well in an emergency situation — the string of spells he shouted out didn't work, and his wand spouted tinsel and streamers instead of water, followed by a huge explosion of talcum powder, which filled their corner of the common room like a thick cloud of snow.
Finally, Seamus got the Water spell right and swiftly put out the fire. The edges of Ron's robes were charred and Ron was not very pleased about that at all.
"Seamus!" he snapped. He glared at the sandy-haired boy, who seemed to be trying his best to stifle a smile. "Congratulations, you've successfully managed to set me on fire. And the common room is in a mess. Now, are you satisfied with the damage you've done for the day?"
Seamus shook his head. "I'm not going to stop badgering you until you tell me who you're in love with." Ron stubbornly remained mute and started to pick out the burnt threads from the hem of his robes. Seamus was in quite a mess too — his sandy-blond hair glistened slightly wet from the water, and tinsel and strands of colourful streamers clung to his powder-dusted robes, although the other boy seemed too intent on continuing his interrogation to notice what a state he was in.
They'd been working on a special breed of roses during Herbology today — Professor Sprout told them that they were Passion Roses, with very strong properties tending toward eros-related uses, such as in aphrodisiacs, philtres and scented aromatic bedroom candles. They were even used in concocting love potions, although Sprout had very sternly warned them that the Ministry strictly banned preparation of a love potion. Ron had been partnered with Seamus, and when Seamus went off to collect the soil they needed (they were repotting the Passion Roses), Ron had secretly taken a fallen rose and had started to peel off the petals, muttering "...loves me... loves me not; ...loves me..." Seamus had suddenly reappeared and caught him de-petaling the flower; and even though Ron had feebly claimed that he was just plucking off the petals to count how many there were (in retrospect, Ron realised it was a very stupid excuse), Seamus had been pestering Ron to tell him who he was in love with ever since.
"No, Seamus," Ron said again. "There's nobody I'm in love with. End of story."
"Oh," Seamus said, "so I'm just supposed to believe that you enjoy disfiguring flowers just for the fun of it."
"Yes, that will do. I never said I wasn't a nasty person. Goodbye, Seamus."
Seamus quickly changed tack. "I'll clean up this mess—" he gestured at the disarray a five-foot radius around where they were standing, "if you tell me who you're in love with."
"No."
"Okay, then you can clean up this mess and tell me who you're in love with."
"You know, Seamus, you sure drive a good bargain."
Seamus sat down on the floor, making it clear that it was not his intention to leave the scene until he got the answer he wanted. "Okay, I'll just guess, then. And I'll watch your face as I say each name, and when you turn red I'll know who the person is."
"Okay, if you're not leaving, I will." Ron turned and started to walk away, but Seamus grabbed his hand and spun him back around.
"One question, then," Seamus said quickly. "Is it me?"
Ron sputtered with mirth. "No, Seamus, it's not you. Sorry to burst your big ego."
Seamus grinned, and then caught Ron completely off-guard by suddenly pushing him to the floor. Ron blinked, and the next moment he found himself flat on his back on the common room floor, with Seamus straddling his chest and leaning forward until they shared a disturbing level of intimacy. Seamus's lips were just inches away from Ron's mouth, and Ron could feel Seamus's breath warm on his face and neck.
"Is it Hermione, then?" Seamus asked ruthlessly, a smirk on his face.
Ron groaned. "No! It's not Hermione!" He tried to push Seamus away, but to no avail. "Get off me, Seamus, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
Seamus smiled. "Oh, hurry and do tell, Ron," he purred seductively, flattening his body on top of Ron's. "Imagine if someone walked in right now, what would they say if they saw us like this—"
"Get off!" Alarm shot through Ron, and he was mustering his strength to get Seamus off him with one mighty shove when Seamus abruptly rolled off him off his own accord. Ron bolted into an upright position and quickly stood up; he shot Seamus a reproachful look, and then saw the expression of genuine surprise in Seamus's eyes.
"What?" Ron asked, confused. "What is it?"
Seamus smiled, looking satisfied. "You're in love with Harry."
Ron spluttered, and spent a few moments miming a goldfish before he finally decided that it was no use denying.
"How did you guess?" Ron asked tiredly, slumping down onto a nearby chair and looking defeated.
Seamus sat down next to him, and to Ron's surprise, didn't immediately start teasing him. "Well, it's obviously someone from Gryffindor, since you were afraid that they'd walk in and see us in the, uh, compromising position we were in. Since it's not me or Hermione, and Dean and Parvati are dating and I know you don't like Lavender much... so unless it's Neville, I figured Harry's the most likely one."
Man, he's good, Ron thought grudgingly. He didn't meet Seamus's searching eyes — suddenly, he felt embarrassed that Seamus knew he had feelings for Harry, especially since he and Harry had been friends, and just that, for so long. Coupled with the fact that Seamus wasn't the most reputable keeper of secrets...
Seamus seemed to read his thoughts. "Don't worry," he said cheerfully, "I won't tell Harry. You have the license to kill me if I do."
"Right," Ron remarked dryly, "a lot of good that'll be, after Harry decides never to talk to me again. The pleasure of hacking you to bits will be so much of a consolation then."
"Oh, come on," Seamus hopped to his feet, looking bright and optimistic and so very... Seamus. "Don't be such a pessimist. What makes you think Harry will ignore you if he finds out that you like him? He may even be interested in bumping up to the 'more than friends' option."
"Somehow I seriously doubt it." Ron said gloomily. "I think I've been in the friend zone for waaay too long for him to even think of me any other way. Wait, make that bound hand and foot and shackled in the deepest dungeon of the friend zone."
"Perhaps Harry might like you bound and shackled someplace else instead," Seamus piped up, grinning. "Like, oh I don't know, maybe his bed?"
Ron picked up a handful of streamers and tossed them at Seamus, who laughed and danced out of his reach, and from a safe distance away, proudly announced,
"I've got the perfect idea."
Ron arched an eyebrow in a not-very-hopeful manner. "This idea can't have taken more than five minutes to think up, so, um, I'm not so sure about the 'perfect' part." He sighed. "Look, Seamus, I know you're trying to help but I think I need to figure this out on my own — the best thing you can do is not anyone..."
"I won't tell anyone," Seamus agreed. He made a mental note, however, to find out from Ron in a few days' time what he was going to do. Nah, he couldn't wait a few days — he'd ask Ron again tomorrow. Or maybe even later. He suddenly broke into a broad grin.
"I can hardly believe this," he told Ron, feeling pleased. "You and Harry. Oh, this is so fun. So, so fun."
Ron groaned and buried his face in his hands, muttering something that sounded a lot like "Shut up, Seamus."
Seamus laughed, but wisely said nothing. Yes, this could get really interesting.