[First request done!  I apologize about the wait.  Have a few paragraphs of Colin Creevey being sweet as compensation. ;-; ]

Relief washed over me as Professor Umbridge dismissed her Defense Against the Dark Arts class. That period had been particularly difficult for me, and, from as far as I could tell, my fellow fifth-years. The O.W.L.s were coming up, and all the teachers had been dumping us with truckloads of homework in preparation. It was only natural for them to want us to do well, but I didn't think any of the professors exactly remembered what it was like to be a student, and I knew for a fact that none of them knew what it was like to be a student with the issues of the Ministry of Magic on the rise. On top of all the real-world stress, we had to deal with the stress of heavy preparation and knowing that your future lay just weeks ahead of you, determined by nothing more than a few tests.

Maybe I was taking it too far. My friends considered me a perfectionist...and, well, I couldn't say I disagreed. I'd gotten quite upset at the fact that I hadn't been chosen as a Prefect. I thought that I'd had everything in place...excellent grades, never a procrastinator, a genuinely hard worker, and truly interested in many things that would most likely bore other students. It had taken me a while to realize that becoming a Prefect hadn't just relied on your skills related to school. Personality seemingly played a larger role in it than I'd assumed, but I did know from all my previous years at Hogwarts that students given that honor had to have a strong sense of leadership, and a calm face in the face of danger. I never wanted to have to lead anybody - far too complicated, and even if I messed up just a bit, it could result in horrible outcomes, and the people I was leading would say it was my fault. Not to mention that dealing with all the responsibilities would've only added to my load of work.

My bag had slid down my arm a bit, and as I readjusted it, I remembered that I had Muggle Studies next. It wasn't an easy class by any means, but it captured my attention more than most of my other classes. I'd always taken interest in unconventional things of the sort. Whereas most of my friends wanted to be learning how to defeat the wraths of evil and win wizarding battles and practice Quidditch, I would've rather spent my time studying the history and ways of other people, enjoying the differences between magic beings and non-magic beings, but also taking solace in knowing that we weren't all that different. Muggles had their own sort of magic; the kind that most would be oblivious to unless they really looked for it. We were all living, breathing creatures. Neither one deserved more praise or respect than the other.

Lost in my thoughts, I rarely picked up on someone yelling...something. They hadn't said my name, and, considering that all the other times I'd perceived something as being meant for me I'd been dead wrong, I ignored it.

Of course, the one time that I didn't think something was meant for me, it was. Just my luck.

"Sorry, sorry, gotta go!" The sound of pounding footsteps accompanied the male voice, and, before I even had time to comprehend that someone was nearing me, he smashed into my arm, catching me off-balance. As he flew up the stairs, not bothering to look back, I toppled down, suppressing a squeal as I realized that the staircase had moved – where there had once been ascending stairs, there were descending, and the impact sent me tumbling face-forwards. I tried to put my arms out to protect my face but came to no avail. My bag obscured my vision, and I landed with a painful crash, skidding down a few more steps before an agonizing pulse shuddered through my wrist. In the attempt to save my head, I had rolled my arm on the edge of a step, and tears pooled in my eyes. My possessions were scattered everywhere...my wand was at the bottom of the landing, my bag spewing books from a few stairs below me. And there was no doubt that now I was going to be late.

I sort of just wanted to lay there and wait for someone to find me. My mind was clouded with fear and agony, all sense of rationalization gone, and the dam on the waterworks broke for a moment. The hallways were practically empty now...okay, okay, I just had to keep breathing. Shove myself up into a sitting position, at least. Then get my things...then go to class...I couldn't afford to miss any more information than I already had, so going to Madam Pomfrey was practically out of the question....

"Whoa...hey, are you okay?" A small voice drew me out of my panic. I managed to accomplish the first part of my recovery plan and used my good arm to shove myself up onto my bottom, turning my head so that I could face the speaker. Small blonde boy...oh, I'd seen his face before! He was Colin, that boy that had gotten frozen by the basilisk in my second year. Still had a camera with him. "Oh! Here, hang on, let me get your things..."

Before I even had a chance to tell him what had happened, he was rushing about, picking up my books and shoving them, albeit in a disorganized manner, into my bag, and handing me it along with my wand. He took a glance at my injured arm and his eyes went as wide as the moon. "Did you fall? Did...did someone push you? Here, we should go to Madam Pomfrey, I can take you, I don't have another class for a few minutes...hey, what's your name again?" He bent down and extended his arm, willing to help me up.

My sobs had faded to sniffles, and my sniffles had faded to nothing but the sound of my labored breathing. "Thank you...I'm Sagittarius...er, Tari, rather...but I really should just go to class..."

As he helped me to my feet, he shook his head. "No way! You're hurt; she can fix you up and have you ready for your next class in no time," he flashed a small smile, and I supposed that as a victim of the attacks, he'd know her better than most others.

I sighed, but gave an unwilling nod nonetheless. If we really had to make this detour, I'd rather get it over with sooner rather than later.

♥

"And you're sure you don't remember how you sprained your wrist, love?" Madam Pomfrey's suspicious gaze rested on my hazel eyes.

Colin had dropped me off at the hospital wing before having to go to his next class, and Madam Pomfrey had taken one look at my wrist before ushering me into a bed and giving a potion to dull the pain before casting a multitude of healing spells and charms, insisting that I stay for a little while longer in order to ensure that it mended correctly. She'd confirmed it was nothing more than a sprain (along with a few scrapes here and there), but her flurry of questions made it seem like I'd just come back from the dead. I had been a bit...reserved, shall we say, when it came to providing information as to how I acquired the damage – though how much of it came from the fact that I didn't want to get the boy who was trying to make it to class on time in trouble or because I simply didn't remember much about the incident remained unclear.

I propped myself father up onto the pillow. "Well...I'm sort of clumsy, it's quite likely that I just happened to stumble..."

Her cold eyes flicked from my arm to my face, seemingly displeased with the answer (or able to tell that I was lying), but she merely nodded and didn't press the subject anymore. "Right then. It should just take an hour or so for it to heal up, Ms. Lestrange, but as I said, I'm going to keep you here for just a bit longer to make sure everything ends up correctly." Without another word, she drifted away to tend to a first-year who had probably been a victim of one of his classmates' jinxes; boils were continuously popping up on his face. Poor kid.

As I drifted back to lying down, my mind traveled to the scene of the 'crime.' From the context, it could have been any student trying to get to their next class in a hurry, but there had been a specific Irish twinge to his voice, sort of like mine. Even then, I didn't have much to go off of. There were plenty of Irish students at Hogwarts; it was, after all, the closest school to Ireland, thus meaning that most, if not all, Irish witches and wizards would get an acceptance letter to Hogwarts and not a different school. But even then, it had sounded sort of familiar...maybe....

I groaned at my incapability to remember the situation and rolled onto my side. Perhaps Colin had been right, maybe this was really what I had needed. A chance to rest both my body and my mind.

Of course, it was easier said than done. When you're given time after multiple weeks of high-tension, quick-fire classes and questions, all the thoughts that you shove out of your mind in order to make room for newer, more important information come flooding back like a tsunami. Useless conversations between friends. Random flashbacks of the few Quidditch matches that I'd been dragged into seeing. The Ministry invading Hogwarts with all their ridiculous rules and speculations. Longing to have someone by your side so that you can get some stuff out. That pudding I'd had last night in the Great Hall had been delicious, I wanted more. Maybe I'm not smart enough? What's going to happen with the O.W.L.s? Will my friends pass? They should...I hope they do. Faces and names, voices and motions. Spells and potions. Charms, hexes, lessons, the suspicion of something called 'Dumbledore's Army' being formed, the lace frills on that shirt that Hannah Abbott hates but she had to wear anyways, Dean trying to woo Ginny Weasley, Seamus telling him he'd never be able to do it. Seamus always saying he liked someone but none of us knowing who it was. That fight he had with Harry Potter. Professor Snape telling him he'd do well as a maker of muggle fireworks but not much else. Seamus saying he could do more than blow stuff up but then having his potion explode up onto the professor. The professor giving him detention.

Quiet voices broke me from my reminiscence. "Hello there, Mr. Finnigan, what can I do for you?"

"Oh, no, it's not like that...I'm fine today, but I haven't been able to find my friend...I thought maybe she was here? Her name's Sagittarius...Tari."

"She's right over there, dear," the matron responded, surprise creeping up in her voice. I guess Seamus wouldn't have ever had a reason to come here except for the multiple times that his pyrotechnics had gone wrong.

He nodded, then strolled over to my bed. His blue eyes locked with mine, and his lips curved up in a content smile, glad to see no life-threatening wounds on his friend. "What'd you do to get yourself stuck in here, Saggy?" He raised an eyebrow, using his alternate nickname that he knew bugged the life out of me.

I narrowed my eyes, pouting playfully. "You said you wouldn't call me that."

His shoulders rose up and then fell in a casual shrug. "I said I wouldn't; I never promised. Those're two different things. For a smart girl, you're sure easily outwitted," he taunted, grinning from ear to ear, knowing that he was getting under my skin.

"Try making good comebacks after somebody shoved you down the stairs," I muttered, but then instantly regretted it as I saw his face flood with color.

His cheeks were so red they could've been passed off as tomatoes. "You...got shoved?" The expression on his face was difficult to read, and, to make matters even more difficult, his voice wasn't exactly glistening with emotion, either. He was either incredibly angry or incredibly surprised...I thought.

It was my turn to blush. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that, I-I mean, he was trying not to be late for class...he had good intentions at heart...and he just ended up crashing into me."

"Really? I thought it was more of a little bump." Seamus tilted his head to the side as his words spouted from his mouth, and then froze, as if he'd only just realized what he'd confessed.

I stared at him for a moment in silence, and he stared back, seemingly wanting to be anywhere but there. He must've thought I was going to be mad.

I wasn't, not really, but in return for the incident...a little payback wouldn't hurt. "Seamus, that was you?! That was so rude! You didn't even stop to see if I was okay, you just kept going! I could've been really hurt...!"

"Tari...I'm really sorry, please don't be mad..."

"I can't believe you! And then you decide to show up and still don't say that it was you? You didn't even own up to your-" I was silenced as he kneeled down and pressed his lips to mine in a single, swift motion. My heartbeat accelerated to a thousand pumps a minute. If he'd been a tomato when he'd blushed earlier, I was like pure red dye, no hint of normal coloration underneath. I was dazed, but...I hadn't actually minded it all that much. If anything, it had been sort of fun.

As soon as he pulled away, though, I nearly yelped, "What was that for?"

"Er...my dad does it to my mum a lot, when they're mad about something...you looked really angry, but you can't have been all that mad, because you didn't try to pull away...I think it worked." His nervous statement turned into a pleased, cocky simper near the end.

"You're lucky I wasn't actually angry. If you ever try that on someone who's truly upset with you, they're going to slap you," I informed airily.

His smile vanished, and he bit his lip, then nodded. "Yeah. That probably wasn't the...uh, the smartest thing to do." He had seemingly disregarded the fact that I'd been faking it.

Starting to feel a little pressured by that small frown of his, I desperately searched for some way to get his usually cheery mood back, finally letting the enjoyment off the kiss win out on the sheer shock factor. "It wasn't smart...but...I've got a little favor to ask you, and it'll clean your slate." I paused. "Well, with me, at least."

"Huh? Uh...okay, what can I do?" He leaned on the bed, head just inches from mine, and waited for my response.

"That was my first kiss, Seamus, and I want a redo."

[2,523 words.  Unrevised and unedited.  I take credit for all mistakes and apologize if there are any that went unnoticed.  Sagittarius belongs to Cool_kid22. :)