Windswept Feelings

Chapter One: When Love Blossoms

Seamus Finnigan flopped down next to Ron. He turned to him and batted his eyelashes, giving Ron his best winsome smile. "Go on, Ron, tell me who it is. There's hardly been any scandal around here lately, it's high time someone generated some."

"And that someone won't be me," Ron snapped waspishly, sidling away from Seamus, closer to the fireplace. Seamus simply responded by promptly shifting closer to Ron again, pressing his shoulder against Ron's as he tried to wheedle an answer out of him.

Ron groaned. "No, Seamus, NO."

Seamus pouted, albeit sexily. "Yes, Seamus, yesss."

"Stop that." Ron didn't like how suggestive that sounded at all, and he squirmed uncomfortably. Thankfully there was no one else in the common room, just he and Seamus. On second thought, Ron seriously doubted that was such a good thing after all.

Seamus grinned, pleased to have visibly ruffled Ron's calm, which had already been quite shaky to begin with. He leaned even closer and started rubbing up against Ron in a slow, sensual movement, and put on his best husky bedroom voice and moaned convincingly, "Oh yes, Ron, oh yessss..."

"Stop it!" Ron jerked violently away from Seamus' teasing ministrations, and ended up setting fire to the hem of his robes because he leaned right into the fireplace. "Argh! I'm on fire!"

A hasty scramble for wands ensued, together with a lot of yelping (mostly from Ron), bemused laughter (only from Seamus), and creative swearing from them both as they tried to remember the Water spells they'd learned during class. Ron clearly didn't function very well in an emergency situation — the string of spells he'd shouted out didn't work, and his wand spouted tinsel and streamers instead of water, followed by a huge explosion of talcum powder, which filled their corner of the common room like a thick cloud of snow.

Finally, Seamus got the Water spell right and swiftly put out the fire. It was really quite a small fire to begin with, but Ron's "Argh! I'm on fire!" had exaggerated the situation to twice its severity. The edges of Ron's robes were charred, however, and Ron was not very pleased about that at all.

"Seamus!" he bellowed, looking very cross. He glared at the sandy-haired boy, who seemed to be trying his best to stifle a smile. "Congratulations, Seamus, you've successfully managed to set me on fire. And the common room is in a mess. Now, are you satisfied with the damage you've done for the day?"

Seamus shook his head obstinately. "I'm not going to stop badgering you until you tell me who you're in love with." Ron remained stubbornly mute and started to pick out the burnt threads from the hem of his robes. "Oh don't be such a spoilsport, Ron. I'll find out whatever it takes, come hell or high water—" Seamus' eyes twinkled mischievously, "and since we've already had the fire and water elements, now it's time for the 'finding out' bit."

"No," Ron said firmly, giving up picking threads and starting to dust off his robes, which were covered in white powder. Seamus was in quite a mess too — his sandy-blond hair glistened slightly wet from the jets of water, and tinsel and strands of colourful streamers clung to his powder-dusted robes — but the other boy seemed too engrossed with interrogating Ron to notice what a state he was in.

They'd been working on a special breed of roses during Herbology today — Professor Sprout told them that they were Passion Roses, with very strong properties tending toward eros-related uses, such as in aphrodisiacs, philtres and scented aromatic bedroom candles. They were even used in concocting love potions, although Sprout had very sternly warned them that preparation of a love potion was strictly banned by the Ministry. Ron had been partnered with Seamus, and when Seamus went off to collect the soil they needed (they were repotting the Passion Roses), Ron had secretly taken a fallen rose and had started to peel off the petals, whispering "...loves me... loves me not; ...loves me...". Then, Seamus had suddenly reappeared and caught him de-petaling the flower. Seamus had squealed in delight, and even though Ron had feebly claimed that he was just plucking off the petals to count how many there were (in retrospect, Ron realised it was a very stupid excuse), Seamus had insisted that Ron had worn "a lovelorn expression on his face". Seamus had been pestering Ron to tell him who he was in love with ever since, though Ron had staunchly refused.

"No, Seamus," Ron said again. "There's nobody I'm in love with. End of story."

"Oh," Seamus placed his hands on his own hips, giving Ron a severe look, "so I'm just supposed to believe that you enjoy disfiguring pretty little flowers just for the cruel fun of it."

"Yes, that will do. I never said I wasn't a nasty person. Goodbye, Seamus."

Seamus changed tack, and now tried to look demure and contrite. "I'll clean up this mess—" he gestured at the dismal disarray of the area a five-foot radius around where they were standing, "if you tell me who you're in love with."

"Nope."

"Okay, then you can clean up this mess and tell me who you're in love with."

"Gee, Seamus, you sure drive a good bargain."

Seamus sat down on the floor, making it clear that it was not his intention to leave the scene until he got the answer he wanted. "Okay, I'll just guess, then. And I'll watch your face as I say each name, and when you turn red I'll know who the person is."

"Okay, if you're not leaving, I will." Ron turned and started to walk away, but Seamus grabbed his hand and spun him back around.

"One question, then," Seamus said quickly. "Is it me?"

Ron sputtered with mirth, and actually smiled. "No, Seamus, it's not you. Sorry to burst your big ego."

Seamus grinned, then caught Ron completely off-guard as he suddenly pushed Ron to the floor, although not with bruising force. Ron blinked, and the next moment he found himself flat on his back on the common room floor, with Seamus straddling his chest and leaning forward until they shared a disturbing level of intimacy. Seamus' lips were just inches away from his own mouth, and Ron could feel Seamus' breath warm on his face and neck.

"Is it Hermione, then?" Seamus asked ruthlessly, with a superior smirk on his face. He knew he was in control.

Ron groaned. "No! It's not Hermione!" He tried to push Seamus away, but to no avail. "Get off me, Seamus, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Seamus smiled languidly. "Oh, hurry and do tell, Ron," he purred seductively, flattening his body on top of Ron's. "Imagine if someone walked in right now, what would they say if they saw us like this—"

"Get off!" Alarm shot through him like fire in his veins, and Ron struggled with renewed vigour. But he didn't need to — Seamus abruptly rolled off him and gracefully got to his feet. Ron bolted into an upright position as soon as Seamus got off him; he stood up, giving Seamus an injured, reproachful look. He was about to commence telling Seamus off when he saw the expression of genuine surprise in Seamus' eyes. "What? What is it?"

Seamus smiled, looking satisfied and mildly amused, and said simply, "You're in love with Harry."

Ron choked, and was about to splutter something when his words also choked, so he just opened his mouth and nothing came out. He mimed a goldfish for a few moments longer before he finally sighed, and decided that he was too tired to argue with Seamus anymore.

"How did you guess?" Ron asked tiredly, slumping down onto a nearby chair and looking defeated.

Seamus sat down next to him, and to Ron's surprise, didn't start teasing or making fun of him. "Well, it's obviously someone from Gryffindor, since you were afraid that they'd walk in and see us in the, uh, compromising position we were in. Since it's not me or Hermione, and Dean and Parvati are dating and I know you don't like Lavender much... so unless it's Neville, I figured Harry's the most likely one."

Man, he's good, Ron thought grudgingly. He didn't meet Seamus' searching eyes — suddenly, he felt embarrassed that Seamus knew he had feelings for Harry, especially since he and Harry had been friends, and just that, for so long. Coupled with the fact that Seamus wasn't the most reputable keeper of secrets...

Seamus seemed to read his thoughts. "Don't worry," he said quietly, "I won't tell Harry. You have the license to kill me if I do."

"Right," Ron remarked dryly, "a lot of good that'll be, after Harry decides never to talk to me again. The pleasure of hacking you to bits will be so much of a consolation then."

"Oh, come on," Seamus hopped to his feet, looking bright and optimistic and so very... Seamus. "Don't be such a pessimist. What makes you think Harry will ignore you if he finds out that you like him? He may even be interested in upgrading to the 'more than friends' option."

"Somehow I seriously doubt it." Ron said gloomily. "I think I've been in the friend zone for waaay too long for him to even think of me any other way. Wait, make that bound hand and foot and shackled in the deepest dungeon of the friend zone."

"Perhaps Harry'd like you bound and shackled to someplace else instead," Seamus piped up, grinning. "Like, oh I don't know, maybe his bed?"

"Shut up!" Ron picked up a handful of streamers and tossed them at Seamus, who laughed and danced out of his reach, and from a safe distance away, proudly announced,

"I've got an idea."

Ron arched an eyebrow in a not-very-hopeful manner. "I hope it's not the striptease theory you regaled us with the other day, because I don't think that really works in real life. Actually it doesn't even work hypothetically."

Seamus feigned a hurt look. "Hey, I spent a lot of time thinking up that striptease theory."

"Really." Ron replied, rolling his eyes. "And this idea you say you've got can't have taken more than five minutes to think up. All the more a cause for worry." He sighed. "Look, Seamus, I know you're trying to help but I really think I need to figure this out on my own. Thanks anyway — and I'll appreciate it if you don't anyone else about this."

"Okay. I won't tell anyone." Seamus nodded, and then tilted his head pensively. He agreed that Ron needed to think this out on his own to figure out what he really wanted. He made a mental note, however, to find out from Ron in a few days' time what he was going to do. Nah, he couldn't wait a few days — he'd ask Ron again tomorrow. Or maybe even later.

Seamus' expression sobered for a moment. "But seriously, Ron, you really should try talking to Harry." Catching Ron's horrified look, Seamus hastily said, "You needn't actually tell him what you feel, but just go and test the water for a bit. Fish around and see if there's any, you know, possibility for stuff to happen." Seamus suddenly broke into a broad grin. "I can hardly believe this. You and Harry. Oh, this is so fun. So, so fun."

Ron groaned and buried his face in his hands, muttering something that sounded a lot like "Shut up, Seamus."

Seamus laughed, but wisely said nothing. Yes, this could get really interesting.