Dumbledore is Dead

by IMP

A/N: He had it coming, eh? Er…not really. No. Oh well.

Dumbledore was dead. There was no denying it any longer, no avoiding the hopeless truth. The grounds were quiet. The mornings were grey. The world was drowned in despair.

And so Harry did the most reasonable thing, considering, and collapsed pathetically to ground and proceeded to bruise his brow against it.

"Why ME? Everyone dies! Mum and dad, and Sirius! And Cedric and people! And now DUMBLEDORE! WHY DO YOU HATE ME!"

Naturally, the sky gave no response. And the ground only thumped with his head hitting it. The only person likely to have popped up was Voldemort, and he apparently was busy with cursing the living daylights out of people elsewhere (most likely his own followers) and wouldn't have needed to answer the last question in the first place.

So Harry continued beating his brains out in peace, with no hope for life left in the world. Obviously, if he wasn't dead yet, he would be. And if he wouldn't be, he rather thought he'd rather be. Especially as even Remus Lupin hadn't managed to write once in the whole year, and being the last of his father's friends, was likely to die a terrible and ridiculously final (perhaps painful) death in the next few months anyways.

"Why ME?" Harry continued to bawl. "WHY! Why me? Does everyone worthwhile just drop dead for no reason, or am I missing something? WHY ME!"

"Well yeah, it's always about you, isn't it?"

Harry stopped a moment, rather dazed, and found two Ronald Weasleys standing over him. They both managed to look distinctly irritable.

"Huh?" said Harry.

"It's always about you, right?" said Ron - one had slowly disappeared. "Why you? Why not ME? Oh yeah - I guess I'm NOT WORTHWHILE - not dead yet, am I? You think I'm happy, do you? At least people bloody well care who YOU are!"

"You know what," said Harry eloquently, "I wish I was dead. I'd be better off, wouldn't I?"

"Sure!" shouted Ron. "You again!" and he very obligingly cursed Harry.

Harry very promptly died. Though Ron's curse was distinctly off-mark and badly cast, Harry was quite ready to die of grief, and did so.

Ron, disgusted with himself, stalked off. He was in no doubt that Harry would yet again gain the spotlight and the tears, and he decided to take his anger out on something quickly. Perhaps he was better off dead. Not even DUMBLEDORE to hear from or talk to.

"Ron! Ron!" Hermione came flying down the path, waving an ink-blotched parchment and quill. "Ron! I've got this last bit done. But I can't believe you're wandering around doing nothing when we've got Breaking Charms, and Snape's got us essays to do!"

"Hermione - just -" Ron choked on annoyance. "Shut up!"

Hermione stopped dead. "B-but - we've got to work, Dumbledore, and -"

"Dumbledore!" bellowed Ron. By this time he very correctly, if distantly decided he'd gone loopier than any werewolf, Lupin or not. "D'you think life's about HOMEWORK! Yeah - great. Dumbledore's gone! SO DO HOMEWORK! Yeah, let's all skip around doing charms and essays. Just - WAKE UP, HERMIONE!"

Fuming, Hermione furiously performed a Breaking Charm on Ron, who tumbled to ground in a dozen shattering pieces.

"You do it better!" she screamed, and stormed off. "Dumbledore's dead! What does it MATTER? Hmph."

She trailed into Potions ten minutes later, still seething and kicked her cauldron into Draco Malfoy, who was just rather irritated at being knocked sideways into diced pig intestines.

"Miss Granger," sneered Snape, "Perhaps you think it your duty to enlighten the whole class as to your presence when you enter? Or have you merely become so all-knowing that you have discovered a potion which requires Mr. Malfoy as an ingredient?"

Furious, Hermione righted her cauldron and was silent.

"Enlighten us, Miss Granger," Snape ordered ironically. "Is there such a potion as uses a wizard as an ingredient?"

"Yes," snapped Hermione, "But it's horrifically dark magic and so I'm sure you'd know nothing about it!"

Snape's already pale face turned white as a sheet. "One-hundred points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger," he said softly, "And if you must be such an insufferable know-it-all again it will 50 more."

"Oh!" shrieked Hermione. "What are you even doing here? You scumbag, rotten traitor!"

Without another word, Snape flicked his wand out and Hermione fell dead as a doornail to the grimy dungeon floor.

Snape's eyebrow twitched. "If I can do it to Dumbledore, I don't see why I didn't finish that a long time ago," he muttered, and glanced aside at Draco. "For God's sake, Draco! Get those pig intestines off your head and clean up!"

To be continued… Yes?

A/N: Ha ha! Reviews are welcome in every shape and size. Just not obscene, thank you. Did anyone feel as numbly shocked as I did when Dumbledore bit the dust at Snape's hand? That would the inspiration for this.