Dean watched Fang run off, mostly averting his gaze while Seamus wiped at his eyes, so he could pretend he hadn't noticed. It seemed like the sort of thing he should do. When Seamus was done, Dean looked back and snorted. "I'd have gotten brassed, but I wasn't going to hate you. You're my best mate, can't really think of anything you can do to make me hate you, offhand. I mean thump you, yeah, but not hate you."
Dean straightened again, standing and offering Seamus a hand up to do the same, since Fang was off flirting with other students and they didn't have him there to pet as a distraction. "Daphne and me aren't at the confessing deep secrets stage. Doubt we ever really will be. But I wouldn't tell her something like this. You know that," Dean promised.
He looked a little sheepish over being caught out wondering why Seamus had been picked. "It's not that I don't think you could do it. Just that I didn't think you or me would be first choice, yeah? But she must think you'll be good at it." Dean itched to know who else was learning, but he refrained from asking. Barely.