Set roughly in the HBP era, this story is based on Agatha Christie's And then There were None. This is my attempt at a slightly more serious story and the whole 'Who dunnit' style of writing. Yes the killer is in the group of ten characters introduced in this story; the end's not going to be like 'actually, it was Lord Voldemort killing them all along!' See if you can work out who it is. My Charity Burbage's personality is based on what personality I gave her in my 'Just Charity' story (quirky, bumbling, Snape obsessed) but is not in canon with that story. Please enjoy and comment!
*NOTE* I now have a small trailer for this fic on youtube for you to watch before reading, it's only basic but it gives you a good idea of the story- just type this at the end of the url on y.o.u.t.u.b. /watch?v=MZPqzxQuETY
Dearest Guest,
You are cordially invited to a gala celebrating the moon of the newest year.
Dress in your finest robes and arrive at Forgery Nosh-Plum Manor in the eve at 7.
Meals and alcohol will be provided to all guests
Do not be late.
Yours Sincerely,
X
Attached on the back of the grotesquely decorated invitation was a poem written in jet black ink.
Ten little wizard boys went out to dine;
One got a little cut and then there were nine.
Nine little wizard boys clearing up their plates;
One gets tangled and then there were eight.
Eight little wizard boys fearing trips to heaven;
One hears a wispy scream and then there were seven.
Seven little wizard boys looking for a fix;
One drank too much and then there were six.
Six little wizard boys trying to survive;
One makes a big mistake and then there were five.
Five little wizard boys covered in gore;
One got a scolding and then there were four.
Four little wizard boys wanting to flee;
A lie goes unforgiveable and then there were three.
Three little wizard boys searching for a clue;
A gesture turns deadly and then there were two.
Two Little wizard boys duelling without gun;
One gets crushed and then there was one.
One little wizard boy having no fun;
Death plagues and destroys them and then there were none
As the radiant sun settled over the ever present hillside; the manor lay waiting for its guests to arrive. Given little information by the mysterious invitations, each guest departed their own location with both excitement and apprehension. The Manor was located in the northern greens of England, situated away from villages and muggle cities. Placed upon an obviously slanted hill, the building towered over its own front garden, constantly putting the grounds in shadows. Draped with ivy and covered in large rusting windows, the manor looked aged, almost like it could fall down at any moment. The 'Don't be late' part of the invitation intimidated many of the nervous guests so many of them decided to arrive early, just in case. Not daring to go inside until 7pm, the first guest arrived a staggering forty-five minutes early, just in case something went wrong. Though, the chances of something major happening whilst travelling by portkey are rather slim.
Still clutching the rubber glove which had been converted into a portkey, the witch pulled herself up from the fall and dusted off her bright yellow robes. Straightening her thick wooly scarf, she inspected the grounds for any sign of human life. "Oh, just a bit early!" She chuckled, whilst checking her pocket watch.
It wasn't until a good fifteen minutes later when a wizard apparated only metres away from the witch, onto the soft turf laid out in the garden. Regaining his bearings, he peered around to the witch."Charity? Is that you?" The man called out, noticing the woman was a fellow workmate.
"Why, yes! It is me Filius!" The pair gave each other a polite hug and then moved away. Who knew that both the muggle studies and charms Professors of Hogwarts would meet at the same party? "I really am quite excited for this party, I cancelled holiday choir practise for this!" Flitwick let out a childish giggle, prompting Burbage to laugh as well.
Just as Charity was about to offer the obviously freezing Flitwick her scarf, the sight of a broom could be seen hovering just over the manor roof. Setting down beside a small statue of a garden gnome, the pair saw yet another familiar face before them. "Charity, Filius, I'm surprised to see you two both here!" Professor McGonagall took off her riding goggles and inserted them into the pocket of her lengthy brown coat. "I am assuming you both received the invitation also, naturally I decided to come, I'm always up for an adventure as you know!" Minerva let out a giddy jump in the air and then settled back down.
Charity and Filius exchanged glances; both of them knew Minerva Mcgonagall was not up for any adventure, unless it involved detention with Slytherins. Nevertheless, the pair nodded in agreement and the three of them stood awkwardly for the next guest to arrive. This time, two figures had apparated to the manor, and appeared from the other side of the garden through the mist.
Trudging through the snow, arm in arm came Professor Slughorn and Sprout, both severely underdressed, both very cold. "Merlin's beard!" Exclaimed Slughorn. "This is a surprise isn't it?"
"I think I'm beginning to sense a theme in all this." Squeaked Professor Flitwick. "Why did someone invite all us Hogwarts workers to a party, it must be someone we know!"
"Why wouldn't they tell us then?" Asked a nervous Professor Sprout.
"I don't know Pomona, but I don't think I want to stay to find out." Announced Charity, politely yet quickly. She began speed walking back to her glove when Professor Slughorn stopped her.
"Charity, you ought to stay to find out why. Aren't you the slightest bit interested on who invited us all?"
"No. Now if you don't mind I'll be leaving." Though before Charity could reach the yellow washing up glove that was her portkey, a dark greasy haired man apparated before her.
"Charity." Murmered Snape. He stepped around her and approached the group of Professors. "Minerva." He spoke, nodding after addressing her. "Filius. Pomona. Horace."
"Oh, hello Severus, I was just... er... not leaving."
Snape stared at Charity for a few seconds, then turned away and started a conversation with Professor Mcgonagall. Sure enough, over the next few minutes before 7pm, more employees of Hogwarts turned up for the unexplainable party; Professor Trelawney, Madam Pomfrey and Argus Filch all arriving minutes before the beginning of the gala.
"Well folks it's 7 o'clock and unless you want to be tortured and gutted for not arriving on time, I suggest we go in."
"Argus, don't exaggerate." Spoke a tired Mcgonagall. "Anyway, there may be more guests arriving."
Slughorn stepped forward into the conversation, his body shaking from head to toe. "I'm not sure if it's the immense freezing temperatures or the fear of prosecution for not being on time but I believe now would be a great time to go inside."
The group quickly agreed on Slughorn's rational plan and then huddled all together, heading for the front door. It was one of the largest doors the guests had ever seen, perfectly carved and polished; it showed a story of sorts involving the transformation of a werewolf. Professor Snape gave three hard knocks and it immediately creaked open, revealing an enormous room, the two staircases taking up most of the space. Hanging from the ceiling was one of the most beautiful and shining chandeliers, covered in crystal carvings of bowtruckles.
"Is anybody home?" Called out Madam Pomfrey.
"We're here for the party." Shouted Professor Slughorn. Though Horace looked around, and there was nobody to be seen. "Maybe we should take a look around? Some of us can go this—"
Trelawney interrupted Slughorn's plan. "My inner senses foretell danger to those crossing the lines of despair! Any separation may lead to plagues of fear and—"
"That's the exact same thing you told me when we played hide and go seek at my birthday party!" Piped Professor Mcgonagall.
Professor Trelawney backed down and the group soon decided to split up and search the house for signs of the host. Looking inside and out of every dusty room, the guests found little sign of life. Professor Sprout did however find a family of rats living in the kitchen.
"Charity, we should set these rats free outside. Argus, fetch me that broom."
"A broom Madam? In my days, to sort out a rat infestation we boiled them in a pot and made them into a stew. Naughty students would be forced fed this revolting—"
"Argus!" Professor Sprout screamed, removing him from his flashbacks of better times. "A broom!"
Meanwhile, Professor Flitwick and Madam Pomfrey had stumbled upon a trail of butterbeer bottles leading to a lone cupboard on the south side of the manor. Approaching the door of the closet, the pair heard clanging of bottles from inside and exchanged worried glances.
"Okay Madam, on the count of three, we spring the door open!" Flitwick whispered to Madam Pomfrey, who nodded back at him.
"One... two... three!" Flitwick burst open the cupboard which was filled to the brim with brooms and butterbeer bottles. There also lay a drunken looking house elf curled up under a mangy old coat.
The elf jolted upwards. "Winky... *burp*... Winky didn't mean to fall asleep. Winky just... *burp*... wanted to lie down!"
"Excuse me Mr Winky, is this your house? Did you invite us all here?" Flitwick asked the elf.
Winky looked at Flitwick and then to Madam Pomfrey in shock horror. "Oh no sir! This is... *burp*... this is Winky's master's... *burp*... home! I get invitation to party so... *burp*... so I stay up late at night for guests."
"Winky, why on earth did your master—"
Flitwick's continous questioning was interrupted by a chilling sound. A screech of a woman could be heard from the sitting room. Flitwick and Pomfrey sprinted to the source of the scream into the sitting room, which was now crowded with the rest of the horrified guests. In the middle of the room, staining the once clean rug with blood was the gory corpse of Professor Severus Snape.
"How?" Flitwick asked himself. He knew instantaneously that a spell had been used on the man, although he couldn't pin point which one. At that moment, almost the same moment that everyone else encountered it, Flitwick came to an even more frightening conclusion. He looked around the room at the series of horror-struck faces...
"The killer is among us."