Dean snorted at the story about the unicorn, lifting an eyebrow, but refraining from asking the actual reason. He looked amused. "I try to lose one once a week or so. They always find their way back," Dean told him.
He watched Seamus sit and dig into the pastry, wincing as he shoved the whole thing in his mouth. "If mum were home, she'd knock you over the head for that," he pointed out.
Dean chuckled as Seamus swallowed. "Wait until it hits and you're heaving over the toilet with a fingernail in your throat. So how'd you really get that scar, anyway?" he asked, now that they were alone. He reached to take one of the little pastry squares, not eating it - just shredding it thoughtfully, trying to see what it was that was actually in the middle of the things. Some sort of raspberry, sugary fruit filling, he thought. Dean was still a growing boy - or filling out, at least. He could put away a heroic amount of food. But he wasn't brave enough to chance his little sister's more-inventive-than-healthy cooking skills. Libby got bored following a recipe.