Never Trust the Irish

It had started out as a good day.

Seamus got out of bed, took a shower, put on his favorite shirt over an old, comfortable pair of jeans and thrown on his robes. When he'd arrived at work, the most pressing thing on his schedule was a case of exploding dust bins in Surrey.

Seamus put a team on the exploding dustbin situation and headed to his office. An actual office was just a perk of being the top Auror in the business outside of Harry Potter. And no one could top Harry, as much as some in his department tried.

He made a brief stop in the break room and grabbed a cup of coffee. If there was one good thing about the Ministry of Magic, it was that they had excellent coffee. He blew gently on the liquid in his cup as he sat down at his desk.

Seamus had barely made himself comfortable when an irate Ginny Weasley burst into his office.

"Seamus Finnigan, you've got some explaining to do," she said. "You know I'm one of the best Aurors you have, and yet you didn't put me on this assignment!"

"Ginny, exploding dustbins is a dung assignment," Seamus said. "Surely you didn't want to go with the new batch of Aurors and run herd?"

"Not that assignment," Ginny spat. "The Quintaped Assignment. Why didn't you put me on it? I had to hear about it through Dean!"

"What quintaped assignment?" Seamus asked. "I've no clue what you're talking about."

"Oh, and you're stupid, too," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "You got in late again?"

"Maybe," Seamus said. "Not that it's any of your business. I'm your boss, may I remind you."

"Shut up being superior and check your inbox," Ginny said.

Seamus, giving Ginny a glare, proceeded to do so. When he picked up the parchment Ginny must have been talking about, his stomach dropped. Instead of commenting, he took a sip of what he knew was the first in literal gallons of coffee.

Today was officially no longer a good day.

"Quintapeds," he said finally. "Damn."

"My thoughts exactly," Ginny said.

"Says here I'm supposed to get a team together," Seamus said. "It also says I've got a meeting with the head of the Dangerous Creature Control Squad in fifteen minutes."

"Are you going to have time to get a team together?" Ginny asked skeptically.

"If you help me," Seamus said, looking at her pitifully. "Please?"

"Fine," Ginny said laughingly. "But I hope you learned your lesson."

"What, don't bother getting here on time because the lovely Miss Weasley will always make sure I'm kept up to date?" Seamus gazed innocently at her.

"Sod off and tell me who you want on your team," Ginny said.

"I can't do both at the same time," Seamus pointed out. Ginny glared at him, and he relented. "I want Higgs, Thomas, Davis, and Williamson. And you, of course."

"I'll take Higgs and Davis," Ginny said. "I overheard them plotting to leave early, and I want to torment them."

"I guess I've got Williamson and Dean, then," Seamus said. "Thanks a million, Gin."

"Any time, Seamus," Ginny said, and cackled evilly as she left his office. Her wicked streak was one of the reasons Seamus tried to have her on all of his operations, aside from the fact that she was clever as a cat and an amazing spellworker.

He left his office, hoping to find Dean first and recruit him to locate Williamson. No such luck.

"Williamson," he barked to a scarlet robed wizard with a ponytail.

Williamson was at least eight years his senior, so Seamus got a sick thrill from ordering him around. Dean said it was because Seamus had a problem with authority. Seamus always replied that there was no problem with authority, as long as he himself wielded it.

"Finnigan," James Williamson said by way of greeting.

"What do you know about quintapeds?" Seamus asked.

"Only that I wouldn't want to be locked in a small room with one," Williamson replied.

"That's too bad," Seamus said. "We're going on that crazy op with the Leashes."

Leashes was a nickname for the people on the Dangerous Creature Control Squads, used almost everywhere in the Ministry. The Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, Beast Department, Dangerous Creature Control Squad was just too long to say.

"And being the sadist that you are, you're dragging me along?" Williamson said, and sighed loudly.

"Pretty much," Seamus said. "If I'd known you didn't want to go, I would have given Ginny the pleasure of telling you."

"That woman is sick," Williamson said, shaking his head in fond exasperation. "I knew it from the first time I saw her, down in the Department of Mysteries taunting Lucius Malfoy. I think she was fourteen at the time."

"She's a card," Seamus agreed.

"Well, I suppose I have no choice," Williamson proclaimed in a defeated manner. "I guess I'm in."

"Good," Seamus said. "Any idea where Dean is?"

"I saw him avoiding work down in the break room," Williamson said. "I, of course, promised not to tell."

"The promise you broke by telling me?" Seamus said laughingly.

"As his superior, you can't condone this sort of behavior," Williamson said in mock seriousness. "I think he needs a severe talking to."

"I know the perfect person to give it to him, too," Seamus said. "Namely, anyone but me."

"Coward," Williamson accused. "You just don't want to punish your best friend."

"Guilty as charged," Seamus said. "Not that you were heading down there to avoid work with him, right?"

"Of course not," Williamson agreed. "Not that there's much of anything to do, seeing as the Dream Team is off hunting the last traces of Death Eater vermin."

"I've got to run," Seamus said. "I need to fill Dean in before I head to the Leash meeting. Be ready to leave in no less than half an hour."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Williamson said, giving Seamus a snappy salute. "I'll put them scurvy dogs on poop deck swabbing duty, and lash the lazy ones to the gibbet!"

"You do that, Williamson," Seamus said, adding dryly, "Or I'll make you walk the plank."

He headed down to the break room as Williamson walked off to get his gear ready. Sure enough, Dean was leaning against the counter by the coffee pot, nursing what looked like his fifth cup of the addictive black liquid.

"Dean, you lazy dog," Seamus said.

"I'm not lazy," Dean said. "Merely clever enough to get out of dustbin duty."

"You're such an elitist," Seamus said with a sigh. "What's wrong with a bit of good old dustbin control?"

Dean just looked at him.

"Never mind," Seamus said. "Dustbins aside, be ready to head to Scotland at my word."

"The quintapeds?" Dean said. Despite having a reputation for avoiding the dung jobs with near super human agility, Dean was always on top of things.

"Yes," Seamus said.

"You know, legend has it that the quintapeds aren't really animals at all," Dean said. "They say that their a family of Scottish wizards by the name of MacBoon, who were transfigured by a neighboring family called the McCliverts in revenge for killing one of their sons."

Seamus eyed Dean apprehensively. "Dean, I think you just geeked your pants."

"Sorry," Dean said. "These Hermione Granger tendencies just come over me, and I am powerless to resist."

Seamus clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, mate. Happens to the best of us."

"So we're heading out?" Dean said.

"As soon as I meet with the head Leash," Seamus said, then checked his watch. "The meeting starts in about three minutes, so I have to go."

"I'll be ready," Dean said. Suddenly he groaned. "You're not bringing Ginny along again, are you?"

"Sod off," Seamus said. "She's ace and you know it."

"It's just, I've been a tad put out with her ever since she told Ron we were going together in sixth year and he tried to play Picasso with my face."

Seamus couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.

"It's not funny," Dean said. "All those bruises...He broke my nose, you know."

"And Madame Pomfrey healed it in a trice," Seamus said exasperatedly. "No harm done."

"Except to my ego," Dean muttered.

"Well, regardless of that, she's an expert in some of the nastiest hexes in the business," Seamus said. "We're taking her with us."

"You leave me out of it," Dean said. "And shouldn't you be at your meeting?"

Seamus left at a dead run.

He arrived at Theodore Nott's office in under two minutes, a record for him. He was still late, but not late enough to be worth mentioning.

"Nott," he said genially, walking into the room with an I'm-in-control-you-can-trust-me smile. No one would guess he'd been sending Ministry employees rushing out of his way as he sprinted down the hallways mere moments before.

"Finnigan," Nott said, giving Seamus a smile much like his own, while gesturing for Seamus to take a seat. Seamus did so, and then called upon his most businesslike tone of voice.

"What's the SitRep?" Seamus asked.

"Didn't you get that file?" Nott asked, frowning slightly.

"Yes," Seamus said hastily. "I just wondered if there had been any new developments."

"No," Nott said. "Word from our Scottish wizards is that the muggles haven't spotted one yet. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Understood," Seamus said with a brief nod.

"Good," Nott said. "Now, you'll be working with one of our top agents and a team of experts she has hand picked - "

"She?" Seamus repeated for clarification.

"Yes," Nott said, fixing him with an icy glare. "Blaise Zabini, she's one of the best."

"Blaise Zabini?" Seamus said, stunned. "Brunette, sort of gloomy, beautiful laugh Blaise Zabini?"

"Yes, she implied in our earlier meeting that you've met," Nott said dryly. "That's not a problem, is it?"

"Not at all," Seamus said blandly. "I just wanted to clarify."

"Any more questions?" Nott asked. "Miss Zabini is apparently late."

"None," Seamus said. "So I guess we wait."

"She's not usually late," Nott hastened to assure him. "It was rather short notice."

"It's no problem," Seamus said smoothly, still reeling from the shock of Blaise Zabini.

He had walked away from her that day in sixth year, swearing a blue streak and not worrying about anything beyond tomorrow. She had avoided him so steadily that he'd gotten the hint and backed off. He hadn't talked to her since.

But that didn't mean he was able to get her out of his head. He often went for days in a row without thinking about her, but it would all come flooding back in an instant. He'd catch the scent of a perfume that reminded him of her, or hear a laugh he'd swear was hers. Or sometimes he'd simply look into his coffee cup and be struck by how closely it matched her eyes.

It was absurd, really. He had talked to her once - once - when he was sixteen. It shouldn't have affected him so. But it did, and he couldn't stop it. He had seen her occasionally coming into the Ministry, but he was always rushing out when she was rushing in.

Now he was going to Scotland with her. He silently offered up a prayer of thanks to whatever deity might be listening. He would finally get his chance to see if the spark he'd sensed between them had really existed.

Seamus heard the doorknob rattle, and turned in his seat to see Blaise Zabini walk through the door, breathless and flushed as if she'd just ran a good distance. She probably had.

He had seen her around, so he wasn't exactly surprised by the changes in her, but it never failed to catch his attention that she was prettier by half than she'd been at sixteen.

Seamus met Blaise's eyes, and that jump in his pulse that he remembered so well happened once again. He could tell by looking at her that she'd felt it too.

Oh, yes, the spark was definitely still there.