AN: Well, I haven't written a fanfiction in a year or so, so I apologize for the quaility, or what I feel is a lack there of, of quality. I do hope it is slightly enjoyable though.

Disclaimer: I don't own HP and I'm not going to continue to say that. Enjoy!!

One of the most unpleasant ways one can be woken up is with a splitting headache. Also on the list would be with the knowledge that death is pending. Another would be waking up to see the ghost of your friend's mother hovering above you. All three, nearly too awful to contemplate.

Lucky for me, this is exactly the situation I seem to find myself in. And I should be happy, being the one who had spent the past….well, it would depend on how long I've been unconscious, but I spent a night ranting not too long ago about how I wasn't anyone special. For these weird things to be happening to me, well I guess maybe I was.

Of course I'd rather be special without the headache, dead lady, and threat of being tortured or killed over my head.

The lady smiled, relief in her luminous eyes. "I thought he had killed you."

My face tries to mimic a smile but it comes out strained. "Um….well, I guess he didn't."

Her hand descends towards my face and unwillingly I close my eyes. It passes through with the oddest sensation. "If you had fought him any more he really would have killed you. You are lucky he realized you were not involved in time, he's not so callous has to kill innocents right off."

I'm sure my eyes are bugging out. These people, they have such a weird sense of what was noble and what was good. I guess that must have all the inbreeding. "And yet, I'm still in a jail cell."

The small smile once more graces her features. "Well yes. You obviously cannot be allowed to roam about. Plus, now that you have become involved, you are convenient bait."

"B…bait? I don't want to be bait. Bait always gets eaten. I just woke up. I don't want to be eaten! Can't you make him use someone else as bait? Or maybe he can try fishing with a spear, that would be different-"

Her laugh is quite wonderful, sounding like small bells chiming in the wind. Which is a bit of an odd sound to stem from laughter. "I do not see what his son could have seen in you. But it must have been something to give you this."

I glare at her, but her being dead, I'm not sure it had the same effect I wanted. Namely her being terrified. I grab my necklace back from her ghostly fingers, clutching the pearl sized stone in my fist. It doesn't mean anything, it was a truth tester. Now go away, you evil woman, you. "Your son gave it to me, not his," I snap at her. Go away. Shooooooo.

"I am not going away. I am going to sit here and ensure that you don't die of poisoning before anyone comes to save you." That small smile again. "Don't worry, it'll take over a week for the poison to kill you. If no one saves you before then, well perhaps it's just not meant to happen."

I swallow hard, noting with some fear that part of my face is feeling a little numb. Oh gods, I'm 17. I'm far too young to die. I've not even had drunken meaningless sex yet!"

Her hand passes through my face again. It might be comforting if she wasn't dead. Or evil. "Tell me about how you got that pretty necklace," she says. It's not a question, it's a nicely phrased demand. Her gaze leaves little room for argument. For a dead woman she's pretty scary. "Come on now, I would love to know before my husband comes back to…interrogate you."

I gulp. I'm really not liking the way she phrased that. At all. A sigh escapes. I might as well tell her, I've got naught else to do.

Seamus Finnagin, the hero of the tale, was seventeen years old and feeling rather frail. Frail but amazingly good looking so much so that he could not pass a group of people without all eyes turning to look at hi (Get on with it)

This evening the poor, mistreated boy was sitting in detention, through not fault of his own at all. (I don't appreciate your smirk miss. Now, as I was saying) The punishment was granted by his least favorite teacher, Professor Snape. Of course, he also wasn't fond of Binns. And Flitwick wasn't a favorite of his either. But still, Snape had given him this completely unnecessary detention simply because he had maybe fallen asleep in class which had maybe cause the potion he was brewing to turn the hair of those in the immediate vicinity a bright pink.

But it wasn't his fault. It was the fault of the git of a Slytherin he had been forced to work with because all his 'friends' had picked other partners. Granted, it wasn't his fault Seamus had fallen asleep, but he could have worked a little harder at doing the potion right so it didn't explode. A little effort, it's all he asked.

So as a result, not only did they both get stuck in this awful detention, but both of them had to share the same ridiculous hair color as Snape refused to turn it back. And really, Seamus doesn't clean cauldrons while his hair is a vivid shade of pink! In fact, he doesn't clean at all, but besides the point.

The Slytherin was sitting at his own table, neither of the pair had moved an inch in order to clean, despite the fact that neither could go to bed until it was all done.

Seamus glared at the former brunette heatedly, trying to convey how much he hated being here. And how clear it was that the blame was entirely on the Slytherin.

"Despite how much you try, you are not going to bore a whole through my head."

Seamus hmphed, resting his head in his arms. "I'm not doing this."

"Well that's fantastic, because neither am I. It is not my fault you cannot stay away to assist me in brewing a simple potion."

"If it was so bloody simple then it's your fault for screwing it up."

The two boys glared. Neither moved. It was nearing eleven o clock and a single cauldron had yet to be scrubbed clear of grime. "Look Finnagin, I'm tired. I'll do half, you do half."

"No, it's not my fault. You could be a little more generous and offer to do the chore for the both of us, considering this entire incident is your fault," the poor, exhausted blond Gryffindor said.

"No." The snide tone was purely Slytherin as was the menacing look.

"It's no wonder nobody likes you."

This action had the desired result of causing the other boy to stop what he was doing and stare, purely incredulous. "Lots of people like me, thank you very much. I am quite popular-"

"Yeah, amongst your snakey friends. They don't count. Name ten people you're friends with that aren't always clad in the color green."

The boy seemed to actually be listing them in his head. He would shake his head then nod then shake his head again.

"See, you can't think of them, can you," Seamus taunted, poking the heavy looking cauldron, caked in green goop in front of him.

"Can we finish this already?" Surprisingly the other had his sleeves rolled up and was scrubbing the black bowl.

"No. I didn't do anything."

"Exactly! That is why we are in this damned detention because you did not do anything. You slept! Now get scrubbing before I make you."

Seamus sighed, laying his head down again. "No. You can't make me. You expect me to be afraid of you because you're some future Death Eater but you're really not that scary. You should really know by now that niceness gets you a lot further than harsh commands."

The other slammed his hand on the table next to Seamus' head, startling him. "Look Finnagin, I know how to be nice, now clean or-"

"Or what?" Seamus smirked. "Or nothing. And I bet you don't know how to be nice."

Brown eyes blazed. "I am not going to fall for your pathetic Gryffindork methods of attempting to get me to agree to some inane bet. Now clean up."

"How about we play chess for it, huh?" A spur of the moment thought that had bubbled out of his mouth. A bad one at that, he was rubbish at chess. "If I win, you clean the classroom and take the bet. If not, I'll clean up and leave you alone."

Blaise smirked at him. "Deal."

Somehow a chessboard was produced, the pieces set up, and Seamus was forced to play. Couldn't he have said a drinking game? He was much better at those and plus, those were a lot more fun. Or flipping a coin, that was totally up to chance. Instead he had to sit there for a whole five minutes while the boy who obviously had more skill trounced him.

Seamus muttered profanities under his breath as the Slytherin boy smirked, readying to leave. "Have a nice night, Gryffindork."

"Yeah well, you couldn't have been nice anyway," Seamus muttered, finally forced into scrubbing the green goop that had stared at him all night.