Disclaimer: This is not mine. Except the idea. That's mine. If I owned the characters and everything I'd probably be out shopping for an island in the Caribbean or something.
A/N : Hey thanks for reading my story...This is my first fanfic (really), hopefully I'm doing the right thing...This is in Harry Potter's 7th year, by the way, in case you didn't know. Yeah. Now go read my story. And PLEASE review it! Even if you hate it...it's okay...Anyway I'll update it after four days or ten reviews...whichever comes first...(your reviews make me happy!) PS Any better ideas for a title would be appreciated...
Okay, this is my story...
Dinner was earlier by an hour on the night of December the 15th, and the crowds trickled in, whispering and trying to find a cause for the disruption. Harry, Ron and Hermione took seats at the head of the Gryffindor table. Theories abounded as to why dinner had been called early, from ludicrous ones about cold wars between Crumple-Horned Snorkacks to tragic tales of the death of the Giant Squid.
'Maybe they're going to expel someone!' whispered Hermione.
'Hope it's Malfoy.' said Harry grimly.
'They don't expel prefects, though, do they?'
'Don't be stupid, Ron. Anyway, those bookshelves you enchanted didn't cause nearly enough damage to merit such drastic measures.' said Hermione, consoling him.
It was at that moment that Professor McGonagall rose at the staff table. There was silence in the Great Hall 'Good evening, students.' She greeted them somewhat morosely.
'Why is she making announcements?' asked Neville. 'Shouldn't Dumbledore-'
'Shh!'
'As you all know, our Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, has been spending his days at St Mungo's, battling lung cancer, and sending us messages by howler daily.' The hall murmured agreement.
'We have, however, received no correspondence today, save for one grim letter from the hospital.' More people began whispering.
'Professor Albus Dumbledore was a great wizard, perhaps the greatest wizard of all time.'
This statement was met by an unusual amount of coughing from the Slytherin table, which, in turn, received furious glares from the Gryffindors. 'He was the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. Albus Dumbledore fought a constant battle against evil, defeating Grindelwald in 1945, and defying-' she hesitated ' -Lord Voldemort innumerable times. He was the best headmaster Hogwarts ever had, a talented wizard, and a kind man at heart. I am saddened to say it, but it is my duty to tell you tonight that Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has passed away.' She wiped a tear from her eye. 'The loss of Dumbledore has been a tragic blow to wizardkind. Let us stand and raise our glasses to him.'
There was the sound of chairs scraping the ground and a murmur that went around the hall, 'Professor Dumbledore'. It was punctuated by sobs and low whispers.
Dinner was eaten in silence that night. Even Peeves behaved himself. The students shuffled back to their common rooms after being dismissed, still with a low morale. Most trudged up to the dormitories, but some stayed back to discuss the new circumstances.
Hermione dragged Harry and Ron into a quiet corner. 'You do realize what this means, don't you?'
'That we'll need a new Headmaster?' volunteered Ron.
'No! Harry, do you know why you've been safe here all these years?' Hermione asked impatiently. She was met with silence. 'Dumbledore! Voldemort was afraid of Dumbledore! I quote: "With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who can't touch you."'
'So, are you saying, Voldemort could burst in here at any moment and finish me off?'
'Yes, Harry! That's exactly what I'm saying. You have to be on your guard, one hundred percent, all the time! Constant Vigilance, Harry!'
'Now, now, Hermione, we wouldn't want to scare him...' said Ron, clearly too stunned to make sense.
'But this is serious!'
The portrait hole swung open, and Professor McGonagall stepped in, in her tartan dressing gown and tear-stained face. 'Bed! This is no time for midnight parties. Twenty points from Gryffindor. Now get moving, all of you!'
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