"Feck you too, mate," Seamus said, though it was said rather merrily and with a wink. Dean was better with football, Quidditch, art, and Apparating. It really wasn't fair, Seamus thought, and he would start pouting about it the second it was shoved in his face. It wasn't as if he was a complete and utter failure at life, but he wasn't really extraordinary at anything (except the the number of times he can be turned out for a date. The number was in double digits in the last week alone).
"Eh," Seamus said, waving his hand around like what he was about to say wasn't a big deal. "He's seeing me Mum again. Both of them, are acting like a bunch of teenagers about it as well." The smile on his face was way too wide for Seamus not to be really happy about it this new turn of events. He had always wanted his parents to get back together once he had actually met his father and now that it was a real possibility? He was completely off the wall about it in the privacy of his own room.
Rubbing the back of his neck a little, he quickly changed the subject by pulling out a bundle of rolled up Prophets and holding them out to Dean. "These are from the past few weeks and the ones I thought might interest you." Once he had his hands free again, he threw an arm around Dean's shoulders as best as he could with his height and pulled him in the direction of the front door. "How've you been? And you're mum?"