Expendable Much?

----

CHAPTER THE THIRD

A Little Research

by Fillius R. McNaire

"Why, this is completely wrong," Seamus said to Dean.

Dean nodded, eyes wide as he read once again through the first couple paragraphs. Seamus broke the silence with a snicker. "Listen to this, Dean. 'The Draught of the Living Death is a potion so powerful that it causes the drinker to fall passionately in love with the first person he or she sees.'"

"Yeah. It seems that she got the two potions confused." Dean shot a look down towards the pink-haired doll. Her robin's egg blue eyes had swollen to the size of saucers, and now watered with enormous teardrops.

"Master!" she cried, running toward Seamus. She fell down on her knees, soiling her stockings on the trashed carpet of the Gryffindor Common Room. "Please pardon me from my unfortunate mistake! It will not happen again!" Something in her voice reminded Seamus ever so slightly of Harry's house elf friend before he was freed... what was his name again? Dobby. That was it.

Marionette held fast to Seamus's leg, sobbing unto his khakis. Seamus lifted his leg and shook it a little bit, but the doll did not let go. "Er, Marionette? Really, it is okay. Um, I am sure you didn't mean to screw up so horribly on purpose." He hesitantly reached down and patted her pink hair. Hair that was silky soft, so ultimately human, it sent a shiver through Seamus's spine. Not a pleasant one, at that.

The doll raised her head, with streams of water draining down her porcelain face, "Seamus, I didn't mean too, really I didn't. I only want to serve you!"

Dean snickered, and Seamus sent him a dirty look. "It's fine really. We probably should do our essays ourselves. Ouch!" Seamus intensified his glare when the other boy poked him hard in the side.

"Are you sure?" Marionette released Seamus's leg, but remained on her knees looking up at him with those abnormally colored blue eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Now get up off your knees. You're... um... soiling your dress." Coming from Seamus, it was one of the most unconvincing statements ever.

Marionette jumped up and hugged him tightly; then taking his hanging hand, she kissed it. Seamus was too shocked to move - coldness ran through him. Goosebumps raised on his arms and the hair on back of his neck stood on end. Her kiss froze him. Frozen in a /bad/ way. "Thank you! Thank you!" She exclaimed, rather too enthusiastically, "I shall never forget your kindness."

As she ran off, Seamus shifted uneasily, and looked sideways towards Dean who shrugged in return. Seamus protested the affection of the spirit noiselessly, and Dean cackled, "Most boys would be overly pleased to have a feminine creature hug them so aggressively, and be standing at the perfect height."

The sandy-haired boy tilted his head down letting little pieces of hair fall in front of his hazel eyes. Standing in silence, he worked on suppressing a very wicked grin. Of course, he was thinking of all the people he would love to have at /that/ height... Ron, Justin, hell even Draco- no, wait, that would be a /bit/ weird. Eventually, he looked up, smirking, "I say, Thomas, it is time for food."

At the same time, if on cue, Dean's stomach rumbled, "Yeah, that seems like a very good plan. Then to the library?"

Seamus nodded, and the two scrambled out of the portrait hole, and headed to the Great Hall.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Marionette ran back to her designated spot in the boys’ dormitory, being mindful not to be seen by the other Gryffindors. Seamus had promised her a new spot in the room but, because Dean was still protesting the idea of keeping something that could possibly breathe in a trunk, he had not had the time to find another place for her. So, into Seamus’s trunk she slid.

After about an hour of lying in the trunk, she crept out remembering that the students were just now starting dinner. She slid an arm under Seamus’s bed and clutched the bag of his belongings that were taken out of the trunk to make room for her. The bag was slowly pulled from beneath the bed and it was opened. Figuring Seamus would have something to pass the time, Marionette started rummaging through his bag. Among some of the items that were tossed aside after they were pulled out of the sack were a slinky, various posters of Quidditch players (the kind a teenaged witch would have hanging on her wall), a very overdue library book, notes from Madame Pince about the overdue library book, and a football that he used to kick around when he was a child. The next thing that Marionette pulled out amused her. It was a long piece of multi-coloured string tied together at both ends. She tried to figure out the use of this cat’s cradle string. Needless to say, she never quite figured it out, even after an hour and a half. She tossed the string aside and reached for the back of the bag. The very last item in the bag was Seamus’s journal.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Finnegan! Cut it out!!!” Dean laughed after Seamus started to play with two chicken legs. He had found it amusing to use them as maracas while imitating the woman on the stickers of the Chiquita bananas across the table from Dean. Seamus laughed as he sat the drumsticks back on his plate. They were very lucky that none of the teachers had looked in his direction; he would have surely gotten another detention.

“What?? Oh come on Dean! Lighten up! It’s almost Christmas break! This is the time when everybody goes completely out of his/her mind,” Seamus said chucking a handful of lettuce at Dean’s head. Seamus’s poor aim made the lettuce hit Jules Jacob square in the back of the head. After turning around, he threw a handful of peas back at Seamus who ducked and that hit a Ravenclaw who then screamed, “FOOD FIGHT!!!” Within seconds, the entire school was enveloped in a food fight. Snape tried to put a stop to it after approximately twenty minutes only to be hit in the stomach with a chicken leg. Everyone froze once they realized what had happened. Had it have been up to him, the entire school, except the Slytherins, would be in detention.

“ENOUGH!!” Snape screamed as he stood up from the teachers’ table and sauntered over towards the center of the room, “When I find out which one of you is responsible for this, you will spend a months worth of detention in the Forbidden Forest. Now, finish eating and in a civilized manner.” As he said this, he eyed up the part of the Gryffindor table where Seamus and Dean were sitting.

Seamus sat with his eyes fixed on his friend across the table. “Do you think we’ll be caught?”

“What do you mean we, Seamus? You’re the one who started it. But, no, you won’t be figured out. Anyway if you were, Snape wouldn’t be allowed to issue the months worth of detention because Dumbledore would think he was just using his bias against Gryffindor to give you detention. So, don’t worry about it.”

“Dean, are you feeling alright? I mean you are starting to sound like me. You /are/ supposed to be the smart one here, the prefect for crying out loud,” Seamus said with an air of mockery. Seamus flickered a large smile at Dean and together, they burst out in laughter. Both were not quite sure why they were laughing; it could have been an after effect of the food fight or it could have been the result of an unspoken bond that lies between the two of them.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After their stomachs had been satiated with every imaginable sweet the Hogwarts’s kitchen provided for this meal, the two boys sauntered into the library. Yawning, Seamus stretched out into a comfy leather chair, and Dean slid into the one beside him. It was several minutes before either boy got in the mood to work on the Potions essay.

"We could always unscramble them," Dean suggested, finally.

Seamus shrugged, and let his vision drift over the various bookshelves. His gaze finally meandered to the library entrance where a certain white-blonde boy was entering. His hair happened to be styled with a little too much with Cliodna's Mastermind. Musky cologne diffused into the air and wafted into Seamus's nostrils. Dean coughed quite loudly, as if to get his friend's attention, but his friend's attention was elsewhere, specifically (to put it bluntly) on Draco Malfoy's arse.

Dean waved his hand in front of the boy's eyes, "Earth to Seamus..." No response. Dean cleared his throat, drawing the attention of several other students in the room, each glaring at his interruption of the silence. Dean rolled his eyes, and then offered a swift kick aimed for the middle of the Irish lad's shin. Perfect execution.

"Ow! Dammit!" Seamus drew his leg up unto the chair and hugged it tightly. "What did you do that for?"

Dean jabbed a finger accusingly towards Seamus's chest, "You were ogling Malfoy, when we have an essay to write... er... unscramble."

Seamus started to protest, but the lanky Slytherin Seeker waltzed across his peripheral vision, and Seamus's thoughts went out to sea. In agitation, Dean whacked his friend across the back of the head, and Seamus leaped back into reality.

"Don't play innocent," Dean snapped.

Seamus just shrugged. "Alright," he yawned like a lazy cat.

Dean raised both eyebrows, but thought best to ignore the subject altogether. He reached into the sack, and fished out the ten rolls of parchment.

/The effectiveness of a love potion is so complex, / Dean's essay read, /that it causes the drinker to fall into a sleep so deep that it parallels death. /

"I always knew love was tedious, but don't you think that is a bit excessive?" Seamus asked, reading over Dean's shoulder.

Dean nodded as he read on. /Under the effect of love, one cannot be awaken until a proper Master revives the sleeper. Even then, the person affected is subject to complete servitude of the Master. /

Seamus yawned again. If love was tedious, Potions essays were ten times worse. Dean rolled his eyes, and tried to focus on the scrambled essay, but it was useless. It seemed to be going nowhere, and his mind was as jumbled as the parchment he held in his hands.

"Dean?"

Merlin's Beard, what did he what now? Dean questioned silently. "Yes, Seamus?" He was surprised at how tired his voice sounded, but then again it was getting late. How much time had passed, anyhow?

"Your it!" Seamus bolted from his chair and jumped over the table with the elegance of a jackrabbit. Turning, he smirked mischievously at his dark-featured friend.

The dials of Dean's minds turned slowly, not quite clicking, what exactly was this boy up to? Click! Tag. Tag in the library. Now Dean was sure Seamus had completely lost it.

"Seamus, I'm not sure it is the best idea. I mean, seriously. Tag? In the library?"

Disgusting. He sounded exactly like a prefect. Wait, he /was/ a prefect. Which meant he had the power to tell Seamus off and threaten to take points. Which is exactly what he was going to do, damn it. Working up his most intimidating variation of the Prefect's Glare (copyright 1991, Percy Weasley) he looked over at Seamus and...

Seamus crossed his arms and pouted, little wisps of sandy silk caressed his wrinkled brow. "C'mon, Dean. Since when have you joined the ikkle Hufflepuffs? Madame Pince is out right now. She won't be back for fifteen minutes-- "

Just as Dean opened his mouth to question Seamus's knowledge of when Madame Pince planned her return, he noticed the sign on her desk- Back in Fifteen Minutes. Dean raised his eyebrows and shook his head, "Seamus, you're crazy."

"Nope, just bored. Your it!" With that he sprinted into one of the aisles-- the Transfiguration section.

Dean lazily scrambled across the table scattering the parchments everywhere. He jogged down the aisle where Seamus disappeared. Seamus happened to be waiting at the end, but at the sight of "It" he dashed down another side aisle. This went on until Dean mastered enough energy to sprint. As far as games of tag go, this one was going pretty well, and Seamus was evading Dean's grasp fairly well, only several close calls. Seamus was leaping around Dean with leprechaun precision when they rounded a corner. It was, unfortunately for the boys, a dead end. Seamus, skipping backwards, failed to notice the looming bookshelf. He ran into it full force. As fate would have it, Madam Pince returned to her station just as the shelf crashed to the floor.

Seamus moaned, blinking his eyes, trying to clear away the blurriness. What had happened, why was he on the floor, what was he doing surrounded by books? He knew he hadn't gotten drunk and gone on a mass studying spree, that would only happen to people like Hermione Granger, who went on mass studying sprees in their normal state of mind. But if he wasn't drunk, why did his head hurt so much, and why was his vision unclear? Groggily, he attempted to prop himself up on his elbows, but Madame Pince was ahead of him, and jerked him upwards by the collar of his robes. Had Seamus been more alert, he might have wondered where the small witch gained that much upper body strength, but lucky for us, his mind wasn't working at the moment.

A severe pain shot through Seamus's skull as he was abruptly uprooted. He moaned and sent a hand clamping to his forehead. "What has been going on here?" The spectacled witch shrieked in a severe whisper.

Seamus looked at her, and then toward Dean, who was hovering in a corner, attempting to escape the librarian's wrath. Seamus shook his head-- he honestly had no recollection. "I-I-er..."

"We were trying to reach a book," Dean interposed quickly, seeing that his roommate was in a state of utter stupor.

Madame Pince was dubious. She raised both of her eyebrows above her lenses, and inquired-- "In the Witch Cosmetic and Fashion Section?"

Dean shrugged, "Well, I am sure you have heard Seamus is gay...” Seamus blinked angrily at Dean, but his foggy mind couldn't piece together a retort.

Madame Pince pursed her lips together, unsure of response. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, and place the books back right, in accordance to the Athenian Alphabetical System." With that she stalked off, probably hearing two Ravenclaw girls snickering in one of the other aisles.

As Madame Pince disappeared from view sight, Dean crossed to his confused friend. He placed a hand on the other boy's shoulder and looked concernedly into Seamus's hazel eyes, noticing, for the first time, the golden flecks that danced around the pupils. "Are...you...ooh...kay?" Dean spoke slowly so the discombobulated Irish lad could understand him. Much to Dean's surprise, the stupor vanished from the dilated pupils, and the blank, innocent face contorted into a mischievous smirk.

"Of course I am fine, you nitwit!" Seamus whispered, "I figured we wouldn't be in much trouble if I looked somewhat injured, so...yeah." With that said, Seamus pushed away from the proximity of the other boy's body and hastily focused on the jumble of books on the ground.

Dean broke into a small grin, relieved that Seamus was fine. The acting skills even had him worried. He figured Madame Pince might be back any moment to see if Seamus's condition had improved, not wanting any mortal injuries to take place in the library. Now there was this large jumble of books on the ground, mirroring everything confusing and out-of-the-ordinary that had happened that day.

At the same time, both boys sighed, then looked at one another and grinned. The same feelings seemed to be reigning in both as much as confusion was concerned. "I guess we better start," Seamus shrugged, nonchalantly. Both seemed to dread the mundane task before them, but at the same time, both dropped to the ground before the books. Again, they looked at one another and grinned. It was like they were thinking with one mind.

Dean cracked up and held up a book, A Witch's Guide to Hairstyles a Warlock Will Love. "Do girls actually read this stuff?" Dean inquired after pausing to look at another book- Simple Charms for Covering-Up Facial Abnormalities.

"How would I know?" Seamus retorted, "I may be gay, but I'm still a guy. And thank god for that." With that he chucked a book on lip reddening charms at Dean's head.

Dean ducked just in time and the book plummeted into another bookcase. The case rocked, and both boys froze, staring at it in terror. From the very top of the shelf, a tome slid down and landed sharply next to Dean. It was a fairly large volume, and fairly old. Dust covered its faded, brown-leather cover and the gilded letters that spelled out the title had peeled off, leaving a faint imprint. The bookcase from which it fell settled, and a forbidding silence fell in the library. Dean looked at Seamus who motioned to the tome. Dean picked it up cautiously, almost frightened of the secrets or horrors that lie within its pages. With delicate grace he opened it to its first page. The faded words printed there took the breath out of Dean's lungs, and a small gasp was released from his lips.

"What?" Seamus whispered, anxiously.

Seeking the opportunity, Dean suppressed his excitement and smirked, "Its the Karma Sutra."

"WHAT?!?" Seamus snatched the book from the black boy's grasp, only to have a look of disappointment cross his face-- but it wasn't there for long. Dean watched as Seamus's hazel-flecked-gold eyes widened after reading the faded letters.

/Man-made Magic: The Ethics of Doll Spirits, Artificial Intelligence Charms, and Other Such Experiments/