Dean laughed, making a vaguely rude sort of gesture - glancing over his shoulder toward the doorway guiltily to check that they weren't being watched by a stray little Thomas. He would have argued that Seamus was better at leads of things, but Dean didn't really know that Seamus thought he wasn't. He considered it mostly a fluke that he'd gotten onto the Quidditch team over Seamus - if he was better, it wasn't by much. Apparation was just one aspect of magic, and Dean was a decent artist, but didn't think of himself as anything especially gifted. Football he likely would have argued being better at though.
Dean knew Seamus well enough to see how pleased he was by the development and smiled back at him. "Yeah? That's great. How's you're mum doing with the papers and all?"
Dean took the offered papers with a grin of thanks, shoving the rolled up papers awkwardly in the back pocket of his jeans and letting the back of his tee shirt cover the bulge of them. Mostly. He just didn't want to be waving about papers with moving pictures when he went inside. He turned with Seamus, heading for the front door, shoulder bumping companionably against Seamus' as the other boy's arm reached around them. "All right. She's good. Busy. She said to tell you that Libby and Ruby baked something yesterday and they're not letting anyone have any until you do. I'd stay away if I were you though, I think Libby lost a fingernail in the batter."