Okay… um, if anyone has ever read And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie, you may notice some similarities between that book and this, and that would be because this is sort of based on that. However, it's NOT the same thing.
Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter or And Then There Were None (Also published as Ten Little Indians
AU from DH- Only because Snape isn't dead… yet, also ignores epilogue of DH.
Warning- Slightly OOC.
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Ten little wizards went out to dine,
One choked his little self, and then there were nine.
Nine little wizards sat up very late,
One overslept himself, and then there were eight.
Eight little wizards looking for heaven,
One said he'd stay there, and then there were seven.
Seven little wizards chopping up sticks,
One chopped himself in halves, and then there were six.
Six little wizards playing with a hive,
A bumblebee stung one and then there were five.
Five little wizards studying lore,
One lost reality, and then there were four.
Four little wizards going out to sea,
A red herring swallowed one, and then there were three.
Three little wizards walking in the zoo,
A big bear hugged one and then there were two.
Two little wizards sitting in the sun,
One got frizzled up, and then there was one.
One little wizard left all alone,
He went and hanged himself, and then there were none.
---
Harry Potter was the sole passenger on the 4:50 bus from London, heading to a large country estate 50 miles away. He glanced down at the invitation in his hand.
Mr. Harry James Potter,
Your presence is requested at the home of Henry Ignatius Dien, at his country estate near London (Directions included), as he would like to engage your services in a matter most urgent, concerning information of Death Eater locations. As this information is of a slightly delicate nature, a certain amount of tact is required, and M. Dien requests you not share the contents of this letter with anyone.
If you can come down on the 4th and 5th of August, please owl M. Dien by the first of the month.
Yours most sincerely,
John E. Littlefield, magical solicitor.
Harry had celebrated his 23rd birthday the previous week, as well as his first anniversary as an auror. Harry was feeling rather contented at the moment. He had a large inheritance, a job he enjoyed, and, now, a weekend off to 'investigate' the ramblings of what he felt sure would end up to be an aristocratic old pureblood, probably living alone with nothing to do but invent 'important' information.
He examined the letter again. He had never heard of a pureblood family of 'Dien', but judging by the title he was probably not from England.
The bus continued along the old country road and despite the numerous bumps and potholes, Harry began to doze.
---
"Neville, have you seen my new hat?" An airy voice asked from just behind the young man. Neville jumped a little, but recognized the voice of his new made wife.
"The one with the radishes?" he asked.
"Yes," said Luna. "I wonder if I left it out in the garden again."
"No, it's in the bedroom," said Neville, rooting through a large amount of jars on the mahogany table beside the couch. "I saw it just this morning… I really ought to put some of these herbs in the greenhouse, I can never find- ah! Here it is!" He held up a purple colored jar labeled 'floo powder.'
Luna walked airily up the stairs. "I'll be down just as soon as I've grabbed my hat."
"Well hurry or we'll never make it on time!"
"I'll be down in a moment!" called Luna.
Neville sighed and settled down on the couch to wait. He picked up a letter lying beside him and reexamined it.
Mr. Neville Longbottom,
Your presence is requested at the home of Henry Ignatius Dien, at his country estate near London (Directions included), as he would like to discuss the details of a partnership. M. Dien has read of your extraordinary success in the field of herbs for use in healing, and feels you are best suited for a very promising new project he is embarking on. The details, unfortunately, are of a too delicate nature to inform you of through post, and as M. Dien wishes to keep his involvement out of prying eyes, he requests you show this letter to no one (apart, of course, from your wife).
If you and your wife can come down on the 4th and 5th of August, please owl M. Dien by the first of the month.
Sincerely,
John E. Littlefield, magical solicitor
"I'm ready, now!" Luna said from Neville's shoulder, who was used to her sudden appearances by now.
"We'll get started then," said Neville, holding out the jar of floo powder. "You first."
---
Now, as you may have already guessed, Henry Ignatius Dien had succeeded in luring both the Longbottoms and Harry Potter to his home under false pretenses, but they were not the only expected guests for the weekend of August 4th and 5th.
Severus Snape had received a letter from M. Dien, declaring himself to be the cousin of an old friend (yes, even Severus Snape is capable of making friends) who would be staying with M. Dien for a few weeks, and who had asked if Snape could be invited for a weekend.
George Weasly was invited to discuss the possibility of opening a new 'Wesley's wizard wheezes' in America, where M. Dien's wife had relatives, the younger ones interested in pranks.
Ollivander, the wandmaker, was (he believed) headed for a convention of younger wandmakers, where he would speak on 'the subtle differences between the use of female unicorn hairs and male unicorn hairs in the use of wands.'
Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, was expecting a weekend with some distant cousins visiting from America, staying with a political ally of their father (not to mention the ally's twenty and twenty-three year old daughters).
Ron and Hermione Weasly (nee Granger), were invited to Quidditch convention (something Hermione would, under absolutely no normal circumstances be attending, but Ron absolutely insisted that this was a make-or-break career thing, and that wouldn't she find this an educational experience? To which Hermione replied that no, she probably wouldn't, but seeing as Ron was her husband, and they were able to find a sitter for their six-month old daughter Rose, she agreed.
Ginny Weasly, who had recently quit her job as a sports reporter for the daily prophet as a protest after Rita Skeeter was promoted to the head of the newspaper, and was forced to take a temporary job as secretary to a M. Dien, which promised to be a real bore, but paid well, and it was only for a month or two anyway.
These ten were expecting a very different weekend than the very weird one they ended up with.
It all started out normally enough, as the guests encountered each other in the luxurious home of M. Dien ("Oh, I had no idea you were coming!" "I haven't seen you in months, Neville, how did the wedding go, Ron and I were so sorry we couldn't make it." "What are you doing here, Potter?" This last one came from Snape). However, things got a little stranger when they realized that they were all there for completely different reasons.
And then, it started snowing.
"Snow?" exclaimed Hermione, surprised. "I've never even heard of snow in August, not in England!"
"I think it's beautiful," said Luna in a dreamy voice. "We might even be able to find nargles…" She wandered out of the room.
"It's coming down fast," said Snape distastefully, glaring at the other occupants of the dining room. "We might be snowed in."
"Of course we won't," Ginny snapped. "We'll use a heating charm and we'll be out in no time."
She stalked to the front door, and everyone in the room flinched as snow blew in, expecting it to be cold, but it wasn't.
"The snow's… warm?" said George in surprise.
"It's not melting though," said Ginny.
"That's because you're doing it wrong," said Draco, shoving her out of the way. "Let me have a go." He began muttering spells under his breath.
"It's not working," said Ginny.
"Wait," Draco said, although he sounded a little panicked. "Just give me a couple more minutes."
After a couple more minutes, though, even he had to admit, "We're stuck here."
"What about apparating?" asked George.
"Of course!" said Ginny. So they tried, but-
"Anti- apparition wards," said Snape icily.
"So we are stuck here," said Draco.
"That's great," said Harry, "Just great!"
"And our hosts aren't even here," said Hermione.
"If they even exist," Snape sneered.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, surprised.
"You're supposed to be intelligent. Think! We've already been fooled into coming here by a pack of lies, and now, we're trapped. No way out."
"That's no evidence he doesn't exist."
"No, but there's also the name. Henry Ignatius Dien. H. I. Dien, or, with a little bit of imagination-"
"Hidden!" Hermione gasped.
"That's a little corny," said Ron. "What kind of a name is hidden?"
"It's-"
"You are charged with the following indictments," said a voice from nowhere.
"What-"
"Luna Longbottom nee Lovegood, for the killing of an endangered sub-species of hippogriff in the forests of Africa-"
"I didn't!" Luna shrieked ("Where did you come from?" Ron asked), she sounded terrified. "It was a Hippicomnorf! The Crumple-horned-snorcack's most hated enemy!"
"Neville Longbottom, for the use of the cuciatus curse to obtain a rare species of plant in the Mediterranean."
"I- why would I-"
"Draco Malfoy, for continued Death Eater activities."
"I'm not- not anymore!" Draco protested. "I even had the tattoo off!"
"Mr. Olivander, for the breaking of the wandmaker's code."
Ollivander did not move, except to shake his head slowly.
"Harry Potter, for the blackmail of the Dursley family."
"What?"
"So, perfect Potter has some secrets of his own," said Snape with a sneer.
"Severus Snape-"
"As do you," said Harry.
"For the murder of Charles Kester."
"I've never heard that name in my life," said Snape coolly.
"George Weasly, for the attempted poisoning of Mark Casters."
George was silent, with a far-away look in his eyes.
"Ginerva Weasly, that you burned a muggle cottage to the ground."
"I would never do that!" Ginny protested, "Not growing up with Dad!" She looked appealingly at her brothers.
"Of course not!" said Ron, putting a comforting hand on his little sister's shoulder.
George was still silent.
"George Weasly and Hermione Weasly nee Granger, for the forging of the will of Mrs. Helen Summers."
"What?" Ron was distracted from his sister's plight as his own name was announced.
"Prisoners at the bar, how do you plead?"
There was a long, almost painful silence as the voice from nowhere faded.
After a minute, Hermione began to sob.
