The Tease
Hermione was hunched over her desk, fingers typing rapidly across her keyboard as she sifted through endless pages of research for their latest project at the firm. The room around her buzzed with the low hum of coworkers deep in their own tasks, but it was quiet enough that she could hear the occasional creak of chairs, the shuffle of papers, and—unfortunately—the unmistakable sound of Seamus’s footsteps approaching her desk.
She didn’t even need to look up to know it was him. She could practically sense his presence, that mix of energy and confidence he always carried with him, no matter the task at hand. And just as she predicted, she heard him stop by her desk and clear his throat in that way he always did when he had something to say.
“Need a hand with that, Hermione?” Seamus’s voice was light and teasing, like he was half-joking, but she had learned over the years that there was always more beneath his words. “I know you’ve got it under control, but—well, you’ve got your lucky charm here, don’t you?”
Hermione’s fingers froze mid-type, her heart giving a small, unexpected flutter at the familiar phrase. "Lucky charm." He’d been calling her that for months now, a nickname he’d picked up as a joke after she’d helped him with a particularly tricky presentation, and somehow, it had stuck. At first, she had laughed it off—after all, it was Seamus. He loved his little jokes, his playful banter—but lately, the words had begun to sound different, like there was a subtle weight to them. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or something more, but it was starting to affect her in ways she didn’t want to acknowledge.
She looked up at him, trying to keep her expression neutral, though the faintest flush crept up her neck. “Seamus, we’ve talked about this,” she said, the firmness in her voice attempting to mask the flurry of emotions that had suddenly risen. “I’m not your ‘lucky charm.’”
Seamus didn’t seem phased. In fact, he only grinned wider, that mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned casually against the back of her chair. His stance was so relaxed, yet there was something undeniably magnetic about it—about him. "Maybe you’re not, but I still seem to get a lot more done when you’re around." He glanced at her with that hint of something more, a little softer than usual, before quickly adding, "Call it what you want, but it works for me.”
Hermione felt her pulse quicken, her thoughts scattering. She hadn’t expected this. Of course, Seamus always teased her, but there was something about the way he said it now—something playful, yes, but also… sincere? She shook her head slightly, trying to focus back on her work, but she couldn’t ignore the way his words lingered in the air between them, almost like a challenge.
“I’m sure that’s not the case,” she muttered, her fingers returning to the keyboard, though the words on the screen seemed to blur.
Seamus didn’t move, though. He was still there, leaning against her chair, watching her intently. “Oh, come on,” he said, his voice a little lower now, like he was letting the teasing slip away, just enough for her to hear the hint of something else. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it. I know you’ve got your own brilliant ideas, but I think I’ve started to rely on a bit of magic from you. You know, your lucky charm.”
The heat in Hermione’s cheeks flared even hotter. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her so much, but it did. Maybe it was the implication that she was always there to bail him out, always the one to make things happen, even though she was more than capable of doing things on her own. Or maybe it was the way he’d said magic—as though her presence in his life had become something more than just friendly help. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words caught in her throat, unable to escape.
Seamus tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing just a touch as if he was reading her more carefully than she would have liked. "You know, Hermione," he said quietly, his voice now almost serious, "you’ve always been there for me. When I’m having a rough time, you’re the one I turn to. And when I’ve got you by my side, I feel like I can do anything. It’s not just about luck; it’s about... you.”
The unexpected honesty in his words knocked the breath out of her. She blinked, trying to process the sudden shift. This wasn’t the same Seamus who had been cracking jokes every time they worked together. This felt more like… something real. Something far more vulnerable.
For a moment, Hermione was paralyzed. She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of such an open, unguarded expression. Seamus had always been the one to joke, to deflect, to laugh things off. But this—this was different. His words made her chest tighten, and she found herself at a loss for how to respond.
“Well, maybe you should stop relying on luck and start believing in yourself,” she said after a beat, trying to push the feelings away and focus on something else—anything else. “You’re more than capable of handling things on your own.”
Seamus’s smile returned, but it was softer, less teasing, and there was a flicker in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place. “Maybe. But I still think I do my best when you’re around.”
Hermione opened her mouth to protest again, but before she could get the words out, Seamus straightened up, a knowing look flashing across his face. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. But don’t think I won’t call on my lucky charm again if I need it.” He winked, the playfulness returning to his voice.
Hermione watched as Seamus turned to leave, his footsteps light but purposeful. The weight of his words still hung in the air, settling over her like an invisible fog. She should have felt irritated, should have told him off again for his persistent teasing. Instead, her chest tightened, her pulse quickened, and she couldn’t shake the warmth that seemed to bloom in the pit of her stomach.
She shook her head, trying to focus back on her screen, but her thoughts scattered with every word Seamus had said. It’s not just about luck; it’s about... you. The sincerity in his voice, that vulnerable shift, was something she hadn’t expected. And for a brief moment, Hermione found herself wondering if there was more to his teasing than she’d been willing to admit.
Seamus had always been the easygoing one—the one who lightened the mood with his jokes, his teasing. It had always been harmless. But lately... lately there had been these moments. His gaze lingered a little longer than usual, his voice a little softer when he called her his lucky charm. She told herself it was just Seamus being Seamus, but that nagging feeling wouldn't go away. Was he just playing around, or was there something deeper there?
“Focus, Hermione,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. She had work to do, a project that needed her attention. Yet the thought of Seamus and his teasing lingered, making it harder to concentrate.
She had barely finished a paragraph when her phone buzzed. She glanced at it, expecting another email from their project manager, but it was a message from Seamus.
Seamus: Need your help with something. Come by my desk when you get a chance?
Hermione frowned at the screen, feeling a small rush of curiosity. It was unusual for him to message her like this in the middle of the day unless it was something urgent. Maybe he’d run into a problem and needed her expertise.
Without overthinking it, she stood up and made her way across the office, her thoughts still a little clouded from their earlier exchange. She reached Seamus’s desk to find him flipping through a pile of papers, his brow furrowed in that way he did when he was focusing hard on something.
“You called for a lucky charm?” Hermione said, trying to keep her voice light, but even she could hear the faint trace of uncertainty in it.
Seamus looked up, his expression unreadable for a moment, before it softened into a grin. “Ah, Hermione. You caught me. I could really use your expertise on this one. I’m stuck.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow, arms crossed, though the corners of her lips twitched upwards. “Let me guess. You need your ‘lucky charm’ again?”
Seamus’s smile widened, but there was a quiet sincerity in his gaze now. “You’re not just my lucky charm, Hermione,” he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, the teasing edge gone from his voice. “You’re the one who makes sense of all the chaos. I don’t know what I’d do without you around.”
For a second, Hermione stood there, caught off guard. The usual banter she’d come to expect from him was absent, replaced by something far more serious, more genuine. She couldn’t help the warmth that spread through her chest at the unexpected compliment.
“Stop being so dramatic, Seamus,” she said with a small laugh, trying to cover the way her heart skipped a beat. “Let’s just get to the work.”
But Seamus didn’t drop his gaze. His eyes stayed fixed on her for a moment longer than necessary, and Hermione noticed the way the corner of his mouth curved up, that little smirk that she couldn’t seem to shake from her mind. It was subtle, but it was there—something more than just friendly banter.
“I’m serious, Hermione,” he said softly, his voice low, almost like he was afraid to break the moment. “I don’t just rely on you for work. I—well, I... I like having you around.”
The words were simple, and yet they carried so much weight. Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest. She tried to laugh it off, to brush it aside as if it was no big deal, but the sincerity in his eyes made it harder to pretend.
“I—I like having you around too,” she stammered, surprised by how the words slipped out so easily. She quickly cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “Now, what’s the problem?”
Seamus didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he leaned forward, his gaze never leaving hers, and for a heartbeat, there was an almost tangible tension between them. Hermione could feel it—the pull of something unspoken, something neither of them had addressed but that was suddenly impossible to ignore.
Finally, Seamus broke the silence, clearing his throat and shifting his focus to the papers in front of him. “Right. Well, I’m stuck on this project proposal. I could use a second set of eyes.” He gestured to the stack of papers, the lightness back in his tone. But Hermione couldn’t ignore the underlying current in his voice, the way his gaze flicked to her every now and then, as though he was watching for her reaction.
She sat down beside him, pushing aside the fluttering feeling in her chest, and focused on the task at hand. Yet even as they worked through the project, her mind kept drifting back to that moment—the sincerity in Seamus’s words, the way he looked at her, and the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was something more than friendship between them.
For the rest of the afternoon, the words “I like having you around” echoed in her mind, leaving her unsettled, unsure of what it all meant. But deep down, Hermione knew one thing for certain: the teasing had always been there, lighthearted and playful. But now... now it felt like it was leading somewhere. Somewhere that she wasn’t sure she was ready to go.