Story Title: An Emerald Shade of Innocence

Author: Hawk Martin

Disclaimer: I do not own Seamus Finnigan, Harry Potter, or the French. If I did, I'd be a hell of a lot happier.

Dedication: To a quart of Jack Daniels, of which enabled to write this thing at 4AM in the morning.

A/N: This originally started out as a different kind of horror fic, but I decided halfway through that I wanted to actually write about someone who was also Irish for a change. [[Yeah, if you didn't notice, I'm Irish. Deal.]] Seamus Finnigan was by far one of my most favorite characters in HP and you see him all of about 2 pages throughout the trilogy. No doubt the world is conspiring against me. The point is, this vignette is about innocence and karma, and if you object to either of the two, please proceed to shove it up your arse 'cause I really couldn't give a damn. And if you love and worship me, well…who could blame you?

Summary: Karma; n. Pronunciation Key: [car-ma].

1. God's way of relieving stress.

Notes: No notes. Just good, clean fun.

Rating: PG—'cause I refuse to write anything that's for EVERYONE. A little discrimination is always necessary.

Warning: My only suggestion to all of you is this: do not attempt to eat your finger with a dull spoon. It will only lead to more reproduction cases where silverware will have to join the bastard spatulas.

"Men are not punished for their sins, but by them."
— Elbert Hubbard, American entrepreneur and philosopher (founder of the Roycroft firm) (1856-1915)

Karma; n. Pronunciation Key: [car-ma].

2. God's way of relieving stress.

Innocence, as described most intellectual masses, is an intangible aspect of the human race and one of the most sought after treasures. To have the power to own such a prize, even more so to break it, leaves the thief more than satisfied and provides the world with yet another irreparable drone. Seamus finds this, above everything else, the most elusive nightmare of them all.

When he was younger, his mother used to lead him out into the great pasture near their church and talk about two things: innocence and karma. 'Good karma,' she had told him, 'could only be achieved through complete innocence.' For every right came a gift and with every wrong left due punishment. For God, karma was the great leveler of sinners and for Mrs. Finnigan, it was the perfect way to scare her seven year old son out of mischief.

Seam takes some pride now in the irony—the next day had been found with still as deviousness as before and an explosion in the kitchen.

Since those Irish fields, he's grown up. Currently finishing his fifth year at Hogwarts, there's no more time for long conversations with his beloved mother or reflections on the work of the Lord. In his opinion, innocence is as fickle as dogma and the preconceived notion of karma is best left to idealists and the French. To a fifteen-year-old Seamus Finnigan, karma is nothing more than God's way to relieve stress.

And the innocence was lost, painted crimson with his dying mother in those emerald-colored fields years ago.