Seamus was trying to fall asleep. He'd had been trying to fall asleep for over four hours. It wasn't working. Finally fed up with it, he threw off his covers and sat up.

"This is hopeless. Arg!" Seamus slammed his face into his pillow.

"Oye! Keep it down, mate some of us are tryin' ta sleep!" Ron groaned before collapsing back on his bed snoring.

Seamus lay back down and looked around the room. It was the stereotypical room for teenage boys. It was a disaster. Clothes, candies, and assorted Quidditch equipment was strewn across the room, except for the small area around Neville's bed. This area was spotless. Neville, who he'd watched lose each of his belongings at some point over the past seven years, had the neatest bed of all, how ironic. Seamus chuckled as quietly as he could. Then a shirt caught his eye. It had been a gag gift from Dean. "Kiss me, I'm Irish!" flashed in green letters across the white shirt.

Ireland. Home, sweet home. Seamus had to admit, it was cool to be the only Irish wizard in his dorm. It's what set him apart. That, and all the girls seemed to think his accent was sexy. Seamus smirked at this thought. However, his accent and uniqueness ended the list of benefits to being Irish. Being called a Leprechaun wasn't fun. He didn't care about the Slytherins' opinion, but that didn't make the nickname any less annoying.

"Oye! Leprechaun! What's wrong, lost your rainbow?" Malfoy sneered.

"Shut-up, MalFerret." Seamus walked past him trying to keep his blood pressure in check.

"Ooo! Where's that "Irish Fighting Spirit", don't all you clover-boys have that?"

The Irish Spirit. Oh, yes. That had gotten in to trouble more times than he could count. Yes, Seamus Finnigan had Irish Spirit, that was certain.

"Look … what did happen that night when … you know, when … with Cedric Diggory and all?" Seamus sounded nervous and eager at the same time. Dean, who had been bending over his trunk, trying to retrieve a slipper, went oddly still and Harry knew he was listening hard.

"What are you asking me for?" Harry retorted. "Just read the Daily Prophet like your mother, why don't you? That'll tell you all you need to know."

"Don't you have a go at my mother," snapped Seamus.

"I'll have a go at anyone who calls me a liar," said Harry.

"Don't talk to me like that!"

"I'll talk to you how I want," said Harry, his temper rising so fast he snatched his wand back from his bedside table. "If you got a problem sharing a dormitory with me, go and ask McGonagall if you can be moved, stop your mummy worrying –"

"Leave my mother out of this, Potter!"

"What's going on?"

Ron appeared in the doorway. His wide eyes traveled from Harry, who was kneeling on his bed with his wand pointing at Seamus, to Seamus, who was standing there with his fists raised.

Seamus couldn't believe how stupid he had been. He'd almost lost a friendship because of that spirit. After the fight at the Ministry, the Daily Prophet had lost a lot of business and the Ministry itself was shamed. Harry had forgiven Seamus, but that didn't mean Seamus didn't still hate himself for his stupidity. Why couldn't it be "Irish Intelligence"? That would be so much easier to deal with, to control. His was the only temper in the school that rivaled Ron's or Ginny's. Yes, Seamus decided "Irish Intelligence" would be so much better. If he'd had that instead he may have gotten more O.W.L.S. It was too much fight spirit and too little intelligence that had cost him Lavender.

"We need to talk." Lavender had said THE words.

"Oh Merlin, help me." Seamus muttered under his breath.

"I don't think this is going to work out."

"Why not?" Seamus could already feel his temper rising, his hands fisted.

"Because of that!" Lavender replied hotly, pointing accusingly at his fists. "Because you are so bloody protective and I can't take it anymore. I can't be around guys anymore, you don't trust me. Last week you got into a fight with Dean! Dean of all people, because he LOOKED at me!"

"It wasn't a fight." Seamus pleaded, even though he knew it was a lie.

"You punched him!"

"But it all turned out to be a miss understanding, Dean and I are mates again! It's all better now."

"No, it's not all better. Look, it's been fun, but I need room to breathe, and you obviously can't give it to me." Lavender turned and walked down the hall.

Merlin, he hadn't known what had come over him. He saw Dean looking at Lavender and he'd just lost it. It may have had something to do with the rumors that had been spread saying Dean and Lavender had been caught snogging in the Library. He'd tried his hardest to ignore it, but it had still nagged at him in the back of his head. Rumors do that, they don't leave you alone until they've destroyed something. That one had been no different, and he had fallen for it. Bloody temper, bloody Irish Fighting Spirit! It caused all his problems, all of them. He'd been in detention because of it so many times Moaning Myrtle had already passed the stages of: ignoring him, learning his name, stalking him, confessing her love to him, yelling at him for being an insensitive prick, forgiving him, and was currently bored by his presence.

A few days later Seamus could be found on the far side of the lake burning a white shirt with, now illegible, flashing, green writing.

Months Later, Front Gates of Hogwarts, The Final Battle

"Where's your Fighting Spirit now, Leprechaun?" Malfoy smirked down at Seamus, who lying on the ground panting. Malfoy had crept up on him from behind and hit him with the Cruciatus Curse. It took almost all his strength to glare at Malfoy. "Now, now! Not very friendly are you? Well, I can fix-"

"Expelliarmius! Stupify!" Harry had stunned Malfoy. "You alright Seamus?"

"Yeah, never been better." Seamus deadpanned. He couldn't feel his legs other than the remnants of the curse, which could be felt all over the rest of his body as well. He tried to move his left arm … he was definitely going to feel that for a while.

"Come on, let's get you somewhere safe." Harry began to gently levitate Seamus towards the castle.

"Expelliarmius! Potter …" Seamus was suddenly dropped onto the first stair. Harry went rigid and slowly turned around. Seamus wanted to gag. A man, or at least, what used to be a man stood before them. It had the palest skin imaginable. Seamus could see veins across the creature's bony hands. It had a near inexistent nose that was only visible by the two black slits that gave the thing a snake-like appearance. Its eyes however were what froze Seamus' insides. They were blood red with a dark sparkle of that reminded Seamus of dementors, but only vaguely because this was worse, much worse. Lord Voldemort, Seamus thought, a shiver ran up his spine.

"You really are like your parents, running away to hide. Well, they couldn't escape me and neither can you. No Love Charm can save you now, I have your blood in me."

Seamus watched in horror, this was it, the free world as he new it was about to end and all he could do was sit there. This can't be real.

"Do you know who's wand this is Harry? This was your mother's wand. Twelve inch willow with a tail hair from a unicorn, good for charms work." Voldemort removed his icy stare from Harry and turned to Seamus, laughing. "Fear. Its right there is your eyes, boy. As it should be, and you, lucky boy, will see everything from the beginning. I will kill your hero and you will see that all your senseless hope and … love means nothing." Seamus' mind went numb.

"Avada"

No. This wasn't supposed to happen. Good had to win. Good had to win. It always wins. Why was Harry just standing there? What was wrong with him, didn't he get it? He was supposed to be the Boy-Who-Lived, why wouldn't he move? Seamus couldn't breathe.

"Kedavra!"

With everything left in him, Seamus lunged forward. He put himself between Harry and the hauntingly graceful wand in Voldemort's hand. Maybe the Irish Fighting Spirit isn't worthless after all, Seamus fell with a grin on his face. Even Harry Potter needed a little Irish Fighting Spirit.