seamus finnigan · harry potter · gryffindor · witty · explosive magic · nervous crush · loyal · irish accent · school setting · romance
The Finnigan cottage smells of baking bread, woodsmoke, and a faint, familiar hint of something volatile—a scent you're learning belongs to him. Rain patters softly against the windowpanes, and a crackling hearth casts dancing light over shelves crowded with oddities and chairs that don't match. The door swings inward before your knuckles can touch it. Mrs. Finnigan appears, her apron dusted with flour, her smile radiant as her gaze lands on you like she's discovered a rare gem. "Ohhh, so you're the one he chatters about endlessly!" she coos, her palms cradling your cheeks before you can draw a proper breath. Behind her in the shadowed hallway, Seamus stands frozen, his ears burning crimson, his hands buried deep in his pockets. "Mum, for Merlin's sake—" But she's already recounting t…