Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not in this story at least. Which is shiny and new for me. All those mentioned therein belong to the fantabulous Lady Rowling. Not Me. Those books would be altogether something quite different if they did. Different and possibly not child-friendly. Um. Yeah.

Rating: uh, T?

Warnings: slight insinuation of incest, but pfft.

Summary: Dean draws, Seamus laughs, the twins bounce in and hell ensues

Author's notes: this came to me in the haze of morning when I wasn't quite awake yet. It was just too much fun. My first attempt at HP fanfic.

1,001 Sexual Positions for the Flaming Wizard


Taylor the Inescapable

He rubbed his finger along the outline to create the effect of shading. He was determined for reasons he wouldn't explain. It had to be perfect. The picture just had to be perfect. Which was insane and neurotic since in all likeliness no one else would ever even see the picture, but Dean Thomas was determined to make it perfect. Now if only He would stop moving.

Dean glanced up from his drawing at the object of his frustration. Seamus Finnegan stretched his arms up above his head and laughed at something Harry Potter said. Dean didn't know what, but from the good-natured glare Ron Weasley shot at them it was probably related to the red-haired boy. Whatever had been said, however, wasn't too inflammatory as Ron simply resumed searching his trunk.

The boys were currently in their dormitory in the process of getting ready for bed. Dean already had on his sleep pants and t-shirt and sat cross-legged and had been, for the past ten minutes, engrossed in his sketching. Seamus also was already changed, wearing a t-shirt and shorts, and currently stood by the end of his bed talking to Harry and Ron, who had come into the dorm only moments before. Neville, strangely enough, was the one who hadn't returned yet. All in all, it was a peaceful, cheery moment and everyone was happy and safe.

As usual this sort of moment tends not to last.

Dean jumped then swore when the door to the dormitory slammed open, causing him to smear more of his drawing than he meant to. Fred and George Weasley bounced into the room. The twins looked around for a moment before they spotted their apparent prey.

"Ron!" Fred cried out in an entirely too happy voice.

"Just the Weasley we were looking for!" George slung his arm over Ron's shoulder.

"Why?" Ron was clearly skeptical to their intentions. Dean couldn't blame him. Looking back and forth between the expressions on the Twins' faces, he felt a bit nervous himself.

"You see," Fred said dramatically, with his hands behind his back. "There's this potential new product we've come up with recently."

"And we want to test it out," George added in continuance, "just to be sure."

"And we need your help." Fred smiled quite wickedly. Almost predatory.

Ron paled. "M-Me?" he squeaked. "M-My help? Why not G-Ginny?"

"She's a girl," George dismissed, waving it off like it was completely silly. "Totally not the right person for this."

Ron looked back and forth between his brothers. "What is it?"

With a grand flourish, Fred brought a large book out from behind his back. "1001 Sexual Positions for the Flaming Wizard!" He proclaimed loudly and with great Pride.

"What?" Ron's eyes widened in what might be interpreted as horror. "No!" He cried out in clear panic. "I can't!" His eyes darted around wildly for help. "I-I've just remembered," Ron stammered. "I have to, uh, to go and meet, Hermione, to do that thing, that we're doing."

George just looked over at Fred with a smile on his face. "Isn't he sweet?"

Fred nodded in agreement. "Too cute when he's desperate."

With that, the Twins each seized one of Ron's arms and forcibly dragged him from the room.

"Noooo!" Ron's voice echoed in the hallway until it was quite suddenly cut off by the slam of another door.

Dean smirked to himself and looked over at Harry, who had an oddly dreamy look on his face.

"That reminds me," Harry said, mostly to himself. "I have to go and meets Draco."

Dean arched his eyebrow. Draco? Since when? But even more interesting... "Fred and George forcibly dragging off Ron to try out 1001 Sexual Positions for the Flaming Wizard reminded you to meet Malfoy?"

Harry's eyes widened. "No!" He said, a bit too quickly. "No, I mean," His words stumbled out at an amusing rate. "The dragging off, the pain," Harry cast about desperately. "I have to, um, go and fight him! Yes! I'm going to teach that Dra—" He caught himself, "Malfoy a thing or too! All very wandsy and um, violent, and slippery and flexible and dramatic and grr!" Dean watched his friend bemused as Harry tried to growl like a tough beast. "I'll put him in a position or two." Harry's eye crossed at the wording. "Ooh."

Dean snorted. "Right then," he said with amusement, then paused upon a sudden realization. "Where's Neville?"

"Oh, he's still in the Greenhouses," Harry waved off Dean's concern.

Dean frowned. "Still? Doing what?"

Harry snickered. "You may not want to know the answer to that." Dean wasn't sure how to feel about that response but was leaning towards somewhat disturbed. "No! Not like that, well possibly like that, but there may be a Hufflepuff involved, not that there's anything wrong with a Hufflepuff, I mean--"

Dean looked at his rambling friend. "Harry?"

"Yes?" Harry looked over at Dean, who looked back at him with his eyebrow arched. "Oh, right, well," Harry turned around and checked himself in the mirror quickly, "I'm just going to go off then and shag Draco." He squeaked. "I mean snog!" He let out another squeak. "I mean scream at! Yes, scream at Draco!" Harry said assertively. "Malfoy!" He corrected himself. "Bye!" Harry ran from the room in a flurry of robe.

Dean laughed quietly to himself. "Mental." He shook his head and smiled. Dean looked up to the only other remaining occupant of the room and was surprised.

"Shay?" Seamus sat on the end of his bed, with his arms crossed over his chest, frowning.

Dean felt concerned. "What's wrong?" He got up off of his bed and walked over to his unhappy friend.

Seamus pouted. "Why is everyone getting shagged but me?"

Dean choked. "What?" Not the pout, anything but the pout.

"What's wrong with me?" Seamus stood up and gestured to his body. "Am I ugly?"

"Ugly?" Dean repeated in disbelief. No, not ugly. Definitely not ugly.

"Am I that horrifying?" Seamus asked, walking past the gaping Dean to look in the mirror on the wall. "That's it, isn't it? My hair is all flat and boring, my nose is too pointy, my eyes are too small, my ears stick out, my lips are too big..."

"No," Dean swallowed. "No, you're not, um, you're not ugly, Shay." Dean looked at Seamus as he kept looking into the mirror. "Quite the opposite really." He blushed when he realized that was out loud.

Seamus turned to his best friend with a toothy grin. "Really?"

Dean nodded, temporarily blinded by the beauty of that smile. He reached out and grabbed on to one of the posts on Seamus's bed to steady himself. "Yeah."

Seamus's smile disappeared. "Then I'm fat, that's it then, isn't it?"

Dean felt his head spin. "You aren't fat." Was this conversation really happening?

Seamus looked down at his waist. "I eat too much and it's all going to my belly and I have little rolls and I'm squishy like a troll." He poked himself as he spoke. "Look." He pulled his t-shirt over his head and stepped closer to Dean. "See? Troll like." He reached out and placed Dean's hand on his side.

Dean bit his lip to swallow the whimper. He was touching Seamus. He was touching a shirtless Seamus. Seamus was making him touch him, while not wearing a shirt. His mind was blown. Ooh, blown.

"You are not like a troll," He said, then cleared his voice in hope to cover up the squeak. "You aren't fat, Shay." Dean's eyes roved over his friend's chest. "You're very not fat." Dean shifted his feet and prayed that Seamus wouldn't notice the tenting in his pants. "You're, um, lean and toned and not squishy at all." Dean swallowed as he allowed himself to move his hand along his best friend's side. "Smooth," He whispered as he touched Seamus's fair skin.

He looked up to find Seamus grinning shyly at him again. "Really?"

Oh god, that smile. "Yeah," Dean squeaked, then cleared his throat again. "Yeah."

Seamus once again lost his grin as he turned to look over his shoulder into the mirror. "Then it's my arse."

Dean could barely contain the whimper that time. " Y-your arse?"

"Yeah," Seamus said as he rubbed a hand over said arse. "It's all non existent and flat and bony and just awful, not shaggable, is it?"

Dean swore his knees would give out. "No, you, um," He took a very deep swallow, but it didn't help too much. He was surprised his mouth was so dry since he felt like salivating. "You have, uh, a very nice arse, Shay." He really, really wanted to touch it. "It's, um, quite round and um, firm."

Dean gasped. His hand slipped. He swore it wasn't on purpose but his hand slipped down to Seamus's arse. "Oh god."

Dean couldn't be sure, but he thought Seamus might have shivered. "Really?" Seamus asked, his voice coming out oddly breathy. "You think so?"

Dean was lost. Lost in two eyes of blue that were hypnotizing him quite thoroughly to the point where he was no longer sure about his ability to maintain his trademark sense of calm.

"Yeah," Dean said, quite breathy himself, "You're perfect, Shay."

"Then what is it, Dean?" Seamus looked lost. His eyebrows furrowed and, dear god the pout was back. "If I'm so pretty and toned and nice-arsed, then why?" Seamus began inching closer. "Why doesn't anyone like me? Why doesn't anyone think I'm shaggable?"

And Dean snapped. "I do."

Dean's other hand shot out and moved to the back of Seamus's neck. He used that hand and the one on his arse to pull the shorter boy to him. And Dean kissed Seamus.

Seamus gasped, parting his lips, which Dean took full advantage of this and swiped his tongue in the space.

Seamus whimpered and clutched his hands in Dean's shirt, pulling their bodies even closer together.

Dean moaned. A full on moan. This was beyond anything he had ever imagined. He slid his hand into Seamus's hair and pulled his head to the side, diving in and latching onto the other boy's neck.

Seamus whimpered and bucked up against the taller boy. "Dean!" he gasped, clutching at Dean's head. He was writhing, grinding, shaking with ecstatic pleasure.

Dean bit down and sucked harder on Seamus's neck. His hand on Seamus's arse slipped up the smooth back, and then down again beneath the waistband of his shorts.

The blond gasped. "Dean." Seamus voice was getting higher, and sounded an odd bit like Hermione's.


He jerked awake. "Guh!" Dean blinked a few times and then shook his head. Standing in front of him were the smiling faces of Ron, Harry, Hermione and Neville. "Wha-what's happening?"

"Class is over," Hermione said, trying not to laugh for some reason.

"Oh, right, ok," Dean said, slowly coming back to himself. He began to gather up his things. He glanced up again. "What're you all looking at?" He frowned at their expressions, then glanced to the seat beside him. "Where's Seamus?"

"Oh, he scampered off right as it ended," Harry said, having lost the battle with himself and now grinning quite wickedly at Dean. Ron and Neville snickered.

"What?" Dean stood up straight. "Why didn't he wait for me?" He frowned at the collective evil grins of his friends. "What?"

Hermione giggled finally. "You talk in your sleep, Dean."

Dean looked at them. "Oh, fuck!"

end part one.

Wahahahahaha! And thus it begins. This is planned as a two parter, so keep watch! R&R of course, and go off and read my other things! Do it! Now! and if you see something not correct, let me know.