"Now we're going to be late." Dean snapped. He received a groan of pain in reply. "Really Seamus, how can anyone trip up the stairs and sprain their ankle?"

"I'm gifted," the Irish boy replied.
"More like a moron, if you ask me."

"Well it's a good thing I didn't then," Seamus snapped, wincing as he climbed another stair, putting pressure on the injured limb. Dean just shook his head at his companion, attempting to help him up yet another staircase. "You know, there are too many stairs around this place," the blond added.

"What would you have them do, put in some lifts?" Dean snipped.

"Well, that would certainly help me out, don't you think."

"I thought you weren't asking me what I thought," the black Gryffindor answered, pausing on the next landing to catch his breath.

Another groan, but this time out of exasperation. "I hate you sometimes."

"Yeah, Seamus? Well I hate you all the time; besides this is your fault."

"I can't help that Snape has no sense of humor!" Seamus actually sounded affronted.

"Yes, well, I can't imagine how anyone could fail to see the humor in someone reanimating a collection of dead frogs and causing them to bounce about the classroom! And couldn't you have outrun the greasy git?" Dean inquired, attempting to haul the two of them along with their bags up the next set of stairs.

"He must be part bat," Seamus replied. "With the way he swooped in on me. And it isn't my fault you got in trouble. You chose to wait for me! Why do that if you knew you'd get in trouble?"

"Would you hurry up?" Dean asked, changing the subject.

"It's hard to hobble quickly! Unless…" The sandy haired boy had a mischievous look on his face as he grinned at his best friend.

"'Unless' what?" said best friend asked warily.

"Well, you could carry me!"

"How about…no? Glad that works for you!" Dean said, voice full of false cheer as they paused once more at the next landing.

"But it hurts!" Seamus whined. "Please?" Dean turned to glare at him, only to see him looking pitiful and helpless, which was of course Seamus' goal.

"Fine!" he snapped, letting the smaller teen awkwardly clamber onto his back. "But this is why I hate you all of the time."

And so, they arrived at their Transfiguration class a mere ten minutes late instead of thirty minutes or longer. Dean was out of breath as he dumped Seamus on the ground, wiping sweat off his brow and opening the door to their class.

All hopes that they could somehow sneak in unnoticed faded as their professor turned an angry glare on them. Suffice to say, Professor McGonagall looked less than pleased. "And where exactly have you two been? "

"Uh," Dean faltered, mind a complete blank.

"Well, I had a nasty fall and sprained my ankle, and Dean here, being my best mate, decided to help me! It took us a bit longer than expected to get up all those stairs, and we're awfully sorry about being late for our favorite class with our favorite professor!" Seamus informed her. Dean was sure that if he had looked at him, Seamus' face it would have been grinning happily.

"Laying it on a bit thick, Mr. Finnagin. Detention tonight."

"Uh, we can't exactly," Dean commented, having freed his tongue from its previous stupor. She raised one brow, face managing to look even more stern.

"And why is that exactly?"

"We have detention with Professor Snape," the taller boy said sheepishly. She raised an eyebrow.
"Very well then, tomorrow evening. Now take your seats." Both boys made their slow way to the seats in the middle of the room, painfully aware of every eye watching their movements. Seamus looked rather pleased with himself, as Dean finally collapsed in his chair.

Dean wiped the smug look of his face with one sentence. "Seamus, this is just another reason why I hate you," he whispered savagely, grabbing his book, quill and parchment out of his bag, and missing the hurt look the other shot him.