The Defense against the Dark Arts classroom, near the end of class.

The class so far had been business as usual. Professor Storm had been working on shield spells with the 5th years, and now he was having them practice them. He's paired them all up, and was having the class defend themselves against a simple teaching charm that sent up a puff of red smoke when it failed to make contact with a shield.

Celene was not the best in her class in Defense of the Dark Arts, but she was fairly decent at it, so she had been doing fairly well at the assignment. She had so far successfully defended against all of her partner's charm spells. Now as class was ending, Celene was no longer paying all that much attention to the task at hand.

It was then that it happened. Somewhere near the back of the classroom, someone's shield spell misfired. The white hot spell bolt careened toward the front of the classroom where Celene, her partner, and several other students were standing. The other students shouted and darted out of the way to safety, but Celene was too busy chatting with her partner to notice the wayward spell until it was to late.

Celene turned just in time to see a flash of light before the spell collided into her side. She felt the wind rush out of her and heard a very disturbing *CRACK*... and then darkness.

Celene woke up as she was being hefted to her feet by her partner. She about to ask her fellow classmates what had happened when she felt a sharp pain in her side. She doubled over, grimacing.

Her partner helped her walk to the doorway, where a group of 7th years had gathered, waiting for their class to begin. "Is there anyone out here who can take Celene to the infirmary? I think she needs some help. "

Figaro Sellaphix was out in the corridor being loud while they waited for the fifth years to finish.

"No! Keep your eye on my elbow. You can't miss."

SMACK! Fig and Sophie's high five rang out sharply and those around cringed.  "Like that! Bollocks!" He shook out his stinging hand.  It was about then that the same group of seventh years let out another pained groan.  Figaro looked to see.  Two Slytherin girls had come out, one supporting the other who had a burned out hole in the side of her uniform and it was still smoking.

"Me!" It was too gruesome not to pass up, and an excellent reason to miss the first part of Defense class. It was grueling right now; Storm was running them through their Pre-N.E.W.T. paces.  The older boy deftly took over supporting the singed Slytherin and the pair of them, like wounded heros, made their way through a small crowd of applauding seventh years. Fifth years looked out from the door in awe.

It was convenient Professor Storm's classroom and the Infirmary were on the same floor. They'd be there in no time if she didn't die.

"What's your name again?" Figaro asked the girl he was holding up. "And who did you piss off, because that's gross."

Celene smiled weakly as a blond 7th year Hufflepuff stepped up to help her to the infirmary. She tried to answer his questions, but the pain was just too much. It was all she could do to stay standing, let alone walk and talk (or breathe for that matter).  The pair shuffled on for a little while until Celene could catch her breath.

"Thanks for the help. I'm Celene, by the way. And I didn't piss anyone off" she wheezed, "I just need better reflexes."

"Do you think we'll be there soon?" Celene asked, grimacing. "Cuz I'm kind of dying over here."

When she didn't answer him, Figaro decided to natter on. Having been the victim of his own derring-do many a time, he knew it always felt better to be distracted from whatever he'd done to himself.

Despite the girl's hellish gash, she had a sense of humor which came as a surprise. Sure, Figaro had seen her around, but in different years and different houses, they'd never had class. The sum total of their interaction so far was here getting a hole blasted through her liver (or something), so when she sassed him Fig had to laugh.

They reached the Infirmary, but didn't immediately see Madam Sage, but then, she was kind of short, so...

Figaro glanced down at Celene's magical wound and mirrored her grimace. "You're not dying. And even if you did, they'd still make you take O.W.L.s, so don't even try it."

He stood up straight then, took a breath and hollered. "Madam Sage, this one's got a hole in her!"

A kid who was sleeping in another bed shouted at Figaro to shut up.

The door to the infirmary's potion stores banged open with a loud clatter. The diminutive witch that stepped out looked slightly perturbed and harried. Healer Sage's arms were filled with ingredients and bottles to restock shelves - and the infirmary should have been empty. Unintelligible words tumbled from behind a bag of peppermint sprigs hanging from Tempest's lips, which she quickly spat into her heavily-laden arms. "To the bed!" She called, tossing the items she'd been carrying hodgepodge on the nearest sheet-covered mattress.

Tempest quickly tied her hair back with an elastic band and rushed over to the nearest sink - thoroughly washing her hands before heading over to the pair of students. "Perkins, what are you still doing here? I released you hours ago. Scoot along!" She called sharply as she passed the bed with a groggy occupant - "and you'll not be getting a pass from me for your missed classes either, shame!" She finished.

Though her legs were short, the Hogwarts Healer crossed the distance of the Hospital Wing quickly and was soon before Figaro and Celene - these were two Tempest didn't know very well. She hadn't been the healer at the castle for very long and it was certainly a far cry different from her past as a healer on the creatures injuries ward at St. Mungo's. It was impossible to anticipate what a healer at a magical school would need to handle on a daily basis.

"Thank you, kind sir, for bringing her so promptly. Ten points to Hufflepuff!" She said to Figaro, not knowing how many points she should or shouldn't give or if she even was allowed to. She knew that all staff had the right, but should she just be throwing points out randomly like that? Oh well, she had done it, so that was - as they say, that.

"A hole you say?" She asked, tossing Celene a smile and a comforting wink - confidence in one's ability normally helped alleviate some anxiety going to a healer caused. "How in Hufflepuff's diabetic daydreams did you manage that one?"

Celene was a little off-put by the healer's cheery manner. It was mildly reassuring, but Celene was also worried that Tempest Sage was being a little cavalier about what seemed to Celene to be a dire situation.

"A spell misfired in Dark Arts class" she wheezed, "and I didn't get out of the way in time." She hung her head.

"It's not really a hole is it?" She asked suddenly, new panic washing across her face. A hole in her side definitely did not seem compatible with life.  She looked back and forth frantically between Figaro and Tempest. "Tell me the truth. How bad is it?!?" She squeaked. 

Figaro smiled, pleasantly surprised at earning some points. "I need to drag bloody fifth years down here more often."

But Celene Oglesbee was still in a panic, despite how calm Healer Sage was. Figaro was taller than she was, he noticed. Hm.

Anyway, he leaned over, hands behind his back, and had a good look.  "Yes. Definitely a hole. I can see nearly through.  Do you concur, Healer Sage? Mighty big hole. Biggest I've seen."

Maybe if he hung around, he'd get more points. Might help the deficit he'd accrued these past seven years.

At Figaro's words, Celene began to feel nauseous. The realization that her death was fast approaching was not sitting well. The remaining bit of color drained from Celene's face, causing her skin to contrast disturbingly with her red hair. She swallowed back some bile as her heart began to race. Normally in situations like these, Celene would calm herself down by taking slow deep breaths, but she was fairly certain if she did that now she would either vomit, die, or vomit and die.

Somewhere deep inside her overly anxious brain, a very small voice told her that she was overreacting and that she not, in fact, about to die. But that voice was quickly drowned out by a much louder, more obnoxious voice telling her that she was going to be enshrined in Hogwarts history as "that one girl who died that one time because she wasn't paying attention in class".

She leaned back against the bed whimpering rather pathetically.