Neville's POV:
It was entirely their fault, thats what they get for calling me 'squib' and worthless all these years. If they are all so smart, wouldn't they have seen it coming? But nooooothey have to make poor, sniveling little Neville go on a murderous killing rampage. Well, thats what they call it at least.
I don't see what they're so worked up about. No one liked McGonagall anyways, who cares if I butchered her and fed her remains to the Slytherins, I mean really.
But little do they know that I have a plan...
Late that night when all were asleep, Neville bit through the bars of his cage and escaped! *dun dun dunnnnn*
He slowly slunk, no, slithered through the empty corridors, until he found where he was looking for, the Gryffindor Common room.
As he finished cleaning the blood off his hands Neville looked around to see what he had done...
"Ha! Look at the famous Harry Potter now, I'm sure he really likes that broom up his ass!" He laughed as a splotch of Harry's blood fell on him. He kicked a random piece of Ron out of his way and pranced over to the girls dormitory, wondering if Hermione was dead yet.
He had slung her, by the hand to the ceiling and stoned her to death with books. "Hee hee, she even died with her hand up!" He giggled then ran off.
His next stop was the Slytherin House. He slit all their throats and heaped them in one pile. Lighting them on fire as he danced around them.
"Ring around the Slythies, gotta use the privy. Ashes, Ashes, they all burn down!" He cackled evilly and wets his pants. He blushes then runs off to the bathroom.
While he was sitting there, on the toilet, unaware, Dumbledore came and strangled him. He made a few choking sounds as Dumbledore's hands clenched around his neck, then fell to the ground, dead.