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Seamus Finnigan (openbottle) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

What with being the shorter of the two of them, it was never easy for Seamus to wrap Dean up as much as he'd like to - but he made a good attempt, limbs sprawling across and around Dean's body any way he could reach. "You did nothing wrong," he pointed out. "She has no reason to get anywhere near your paintings." He was aware the world didn't actually work that way - but since he wasn't really going to do anything to Ophelia's precious jewellery there was no harm in insisting that it did, at least for tonight. "She's not completely stupid. She comes in to find a troupe of leprechauns she's going to assume I had something to do with it." He butted his head against Dean's shoulder as if that could help ease the surge of frustration. "We should send banshees after her," he muttered. "Get them wailing outside her window every night." To someone who knew him as well as Dean, that was a sure sign of his anger. Seamus would only wish banshees on his worst enemies.

He snorted. "What Susan will want to do isn't auror-y,," he said. "I'm pretty sure the Ministry have some kind of law against vigilante justice." No, it wouldn't be Susan in her official capacity Ophelia had to worry about - it would be Susan the pissed off Gryffindor-Hufflepuff hybrid with more loyalty than sense. Knowing that Susan - and Jess - would be exactly as furious as he was gave Seamus some comfort. Dean might not have found The One (or whatever) but he had friends and family who would fight for him when he was hurt. That was important.

"I'll be mortally offended if you don't hang out here," Seamus said, looking up and Dean and putting on his most exaggerated 'wounded' face. "Besides. We have loads of cake left and I have no Valentine to share it with." He frowned a little at that. The moment he'd seen Dean curled up in his bed he'd practically forgotten about Justin and his own petty little sulk. It wasn't important. He'd far rather be here when Dean needed him, Valentine's day or not. He lay back down, practically draped on top of Dean, trying to will himself heavy so Dean couldn't get up and leave.