September 2, 1996 -- 3:27 a.m.
Morag MacDougal (Girl 12, Ravenclaw) slowed down to a halt as she reached the shoreline. She had wanted to wait for her friends in front of the school, but when someone had fired at her with something, she just took off running and never bothered to look back. Now, she was scared, and felt very alone. Someone was playing already. It chilled her to the bone to think that someone could not only think about doing such a terrible thing, but even go through with actually attacking someone.
In retrospect, she should probably venture back to the school and try to warn the others. She looked to her watch to try and figure out how much time had passed since she left. She wasn't quite sure what time she left, but she ran straight to wherever she was. However she had no idea of where she was, so that might pose a problem in trying to get back.
And she would most likely miss the last students leaving if she did. She sat down and sighed in resignation. She'd give anything to be home right now, curled up in her nice warm bed. It would even be nice to discover that she was daydreaming while she was supposed to do detention with Snape or Filch.
Opening her pack, she did a quick inventory. All of the supplies that were supposed to be there were there. At least Mr. Montgomery hadn't lied about that. There was just something about him she didn't like. Pulling a machete out of her pack, she wondered if it would be enough to protect her in case there was anyone else. She hoped it would.
When had she become so paranoid? These were her friends and classmates. Surely most of them would realize that if everyone worked together, they might find a way to get out of this. And just because one person was playing didn't mean anyone else was.
She watched the gentle waves to the sea crash against the shore. For a brief moment, she pondered whether she should just try to swim for it and hope she reached land before she drowned. But then she remembered Mr. Montgomery telling them that if they tried to escape, their collars would detonate. So it looked as though that weren't an option.
They didn't have very many options.
Lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice a shadow approaching from behind her until it was too late. She struggled with the wire that had been encircled around her neck, trying in vain to pry it loose. Sometime during the struggle she dropped her machete. If she could only reach it... But first she had to get the wire off her neck. It wasn't easy, what with her fingers becoming all wet and slippery. Why were they wet? Oh, that's blood. She might've laughed if she had enough breath to do so, but as it was, she was having a hard time staying awake. She tried to hit whoever was behind her, but she was too weak and it wouldn't have made a difference anyway.
Theodore Nott (Boy 14, Slytherin) watched as the girl fell lifelessly to the ground. He wasn't certain about the reliability of such a weapon. He would have preferred something a little bit different, like maybe one of those gun things the instructor had. But maybe the garrote wasn't as bad as he thought. He'd still prefer a better weapon, though.
He walked over to Morag's pack and started rummaging through it. He wasn't sure how long he would be on this island, so it might be best to stock up on rations just in case. And if he didn't someone else would.
After removing the contents of Morag's pack and putting them into his own, he picked up the fallen machete and contemplated his reflection in the blade that glistened with blood. It was a start.
37 students remaining
September 2 -- 3:36 a.m.
Justin Finch-Fletchley (Boy 6, Hufflepuff) prided himself on being a Hufflepuff through and through. To him, there was no virtue more sacred than loyalty. Sure, most people would scoff at him and go on about how something else was more important. Gryffindors went all out for bravery. Unfortunately, bravery was just another word for stupidity. Intelligence was all well and good, but without a focus, someone could just as easily end up as the next dark lord as they could the next pillar of light. He wouldn't even dignify the Slytherins and their virtues (or lack thereof) with a second thought. No. Everything was held together by loyalty. It was the epitome of good. After all, what good person acts selfishly and would be willing to sell out their own mothers for a Sickle?
As the last of the boys to leave, he expected to find his friends waiting for him. After all, they were Hufflepuffs, and Hufflepuffs were loyal. So when no one was waiting for him outside, he frowned. Had they already forgotten their loyalty? Maybe he should search for them and help remind them. It was dangerous out there. There was no telling who might be playing or not. Most likely the honorless Slytherins were, and maybe a few Ravenclaws. All brains, no hearts. The Gryffindors were certain to gather in groups, foolishly clinging on to the hope that everything would be all right in the end, so long as they presented a unified front and charged stupidly into battle without thinking. They would be no problem.
Sighing, he knelt down on the ground and rummaged through his pack. Aside from his supplies, he found a set of ten throwing knives. Wonderful. He had no idea how to throw knives. He sighed and checked his watch. Soon the last student would be exiting the building. An honorless Slytherin. He supposed that if he let her go now, then at some later time, the snake might show its fangs and bite him on the ass. So it was best to destroy it before it grew fangs.
He heard a groan off to the side. Looking toward the sound, he saw the fallen Ernie MacMillan (Boy 12, Hufflepuff) who had just come to and was now trying to get up. So one of his friends did remember how to be loyal! Justin smiled. It saved him the trouble of looking. Carrying his pack in one hand, and a throwing knife in the other, he approached his friend, carefully eyeing the crossbow on the ground next to him. It wouldn't be very nice for him to be attacked. Not before he found the others, and certainly not by a loyal friend.
"Need some help, friend?" Justin asked, standing near the other boy, but making sure to keep the crossbow closer to himself. In times like these, loyalties are often shattered. Not everyone valued loyalty as much as he did.
Ernie slowly stood up, holding his hand to his head as he did so. "Son of a..." He looked up and noticed Justin for the first time. His eyes opened wide and he lunged for his crossbow.
When he was halfway there, the throwing knife in Justin's hand flew into Ernie's gut. Seconds later, the knife pulled out of the wound and slit its way against his throat. Ernie's eyes opened wide as he looked up at his friend.
Justin smiled. "I wouldn't be a very loyal friend if I just let you go off and get killed by some nasty Slytherin, now would I?" He kicked the dying boy away from him, and bent over to pick up the crossbow. After feeling how his new weapon felt, he smiled, and searched for Ernie's pack. Finding it nearby, he picked it up, and with all of his new toys, ran into the forest.
36 students remaining
September 2 -- 3:37 a.m.
Tracey Davis (Girl 6, Slytherin) froze in the doorway of the school when she saw the scene before her. Just as she was exiting the building, she heard voices, and then saw one of her classmates stab another one. She didn't dare to move or make a sound, lest the killer turn his attention to her. So she clung as close to the doorway as possible, hoping that he would go away soon. In less than 10 minutes, the school would become a forbidden zone. She wanted to be as far away from it as possible when that happened. So silently she pleaded for the boy to leave.
After what to her seemed like forever, the boy finally ran into the forest to the west. Tracey sighed with relief, then ran as fast as she could into the residential section to the south. Maybe she could hide out in one of the houses for a while. Although she wished that at least one of her housemates were with her, she couldn't blame them for not sticking around. There was at least one person playing.
Finding a house that looked like it might be good to hide in, she tried twisting the doorknob. To her surprise, the door opened right away. Didn't anyone lock their doors anymore? Then again, if everyone had been evacuated, maybe they just didn't have time to lock their door.
Locking the door behind her, she stepped inside and looked around. She smiled as she saw a couch in the living room. Sitting down, she gave herself a few minutes to catch her breath and relax before she opened her pack to see what she had. Food, water, other supplies. Hello? She recognized the heavy metal object that she pulled out of her pack as being some sort of gun. She smiled. This would definitely protect her.
Unlike most of the other Slytherins -- who had deemed it a waste of time -- Tracey took Muggle Studies back at school. Back in fourth year, they had discussed many different types of muggle weaponry. Looking back, she wished that she had paid more attention in class, but at least she remembered enough to know that guns needed bullets, or else they became nothing more than an expensive paperweight. Checking her pack, she found a few dozen boxes of bullets, along with instructions on how to operate a gun. That was good, because it was something they hadn't been taught in class. Upon reading the instructions further, she discovered that her gun was a machine gun. She smiled. Nobody would dare attack her so long as she had this.
There was a creak upstairs that made her blood run cold. There was someone in the same house as her. Quickly loading the gun (with a lot of help from the instructions), Tracey slowly stood up, careful to be quiet. If there was someone in here with her, then she needed to be sure that they didn't know she was there.
One step at a time, she aimed the gun ahead of her, carefully looking for anything that shouldn't be there. If there was one thing Tracey was good at, it was being quiet. She'd had years of practice as a child. Her father was a mean drunk, and would lash out at anything he noticed. Unfortunately, he got drunk a lot, so she spent most of her childhood learning to escape notice. When she went to Hogwarts, few of her classmates or teachers took notice of her. That suited her just fine. She had grown to enjoy the solitude.
Creak! Tracey froze where she was. Dammit! One of the stairs was creaky. Any hope of the other person not knowing she was there was now gone.
"Who's there?" asked a male voice from the upstairs bedroom. Unsure of whether to answer or not, Tracey simply kept quiet, trying to sneak the rest of the way upstairs. Even though he knew she was there, she still had the advantage.
"I know someone's out there," the boy continued. "I'm- I'm not playing. So please. Just show yourself and we can talk this over."
Finally recognizing the voice as belonging to Neville Longbottom (Boy 11, Gryffindor), Tracey lowered her gun and decided to speak up. After all, he was harmless. "Do you promise?"
"Uh huh."
Slowly, Tracey made her way to the room. Once she got there, though, a confused expression drew on her face. There wasn't anyone in there.
Once she had passed the door he was hiding behind, Neville hit the girl as hard as he could with the lamp he was holding. He was even better at hiding and keeping quiet than Tracey was. He had seen her earlier when she had removed the machine gun from her pack. Lucky girl. All he got was a bulletproof vest. Although that would probably come in useful later, an actual weapon would be better. Placing a foot on Tracey's back just in case she woke up soon, he took the gun from her. After savoring the feeling of the weapon in his hands for a few moments, he aimed down and fired.
35 students remaining
September 2 -- 3:51 a.m.
Next door, Hermione Granger (Girl 8, Gryffindor) hugged her knees closer to her chest. After she had left the school, she had waited for Ron and Harry to emerge. She had tried to get Neville's attention as he emerged, but he just ignored her and ran south. Then Ernie MacMillan came out and started firing crossbolts at people. She hid behind some shrubs near the school, trying to stay out of sight while waiting for her friends. But then Diana Moon had been shot, and Hermione panicked. She just ran for it and didn't stop until she had entered the house she was currently in. She deeply regretted it now, but it was too late to go back now. The school was now a forbidden zone, and they would both be long gone by now, assuming they were alive, even.
She felt absolutely horrible inside. If they were dead it would be her fault for not waiting for them. She was just so scared.
She didn't have much to protect herself. Aside from the promised supplies, she found that her weapon was a can of pepper spray. Although it was better than nothing, and somewhat reassuring that she could simply incapacitate anyone that tried to attack, rather than injure or kill. Even so, she'd have to actually get close to someone to use it. And there was at least one student out there with a gun.
Minutes ago, she heard the unmistakable sound of a spray of bullets fired all too close to the house she was hiding in. It sounded as though it had come from next door. She didn't dare peek out the window to see who was responsible, lest they see her and decide to finish her off as well. In a battle between gun and pepper spray, gun would win.
Her eyes opened wide with realization. Neville had come this way as well. Maybe he was the one who got shot.
That just made her feel worse, as though she should have tried harder to gain his attention. But it was too late now. All she could do was hide and feel horrible about herself.
She just hoped that Ron and Harry were still alive.
35 students remaining
September 2 -- 3:52 a.m.
Ron Weasley (Boy 19, Gryffindor) wasn't lost; he just had absolutely no idea where he was. Hoping to find either Harry or Hermione waiting for him, but finding only the unconscious Ernie MacMillan, he ran into the forest to the east. At least he thought it was east. It might have been north. There was a lot of forest around the island apparently. So far he hadn't run into anyone, so it wasn't all bad. He wasn't even sure if he could defend himself if he had.
When he had picked up his pack in the front of the classroom, it had seemed unusually heavy. It couldn't have been the food or other supplies, so it must have been the weapon. He wasn't sure whether muggle weapons were supposed to be so heavy or not, but it made him gain a whole new appreciation to the hardships they went through.
When he finally opened his pack to see what was inside, he found that he had been bestowed with a flail -- a spiked ball chained to the handle of the weapon. If it didn't weigh half as much as he did, he might appreciate it more. As it was, though, he could barely lift it. Even if he could, he doubted that he'd be able to use it without knocking his brains out in the process.
As he walked further in whichever direction he was facing, he noticed the trees start to thin out. It looked like he was nearing the end of the forest. In the distance he saw an unusual looking building. Curiosity piqued, he advanced upon it, until he was close enough to read the sign above the door. 'Medical Clinic'. This might be a good place to rest and maybe get supplies. Maybe one of his friends would find this place, too.
He frowned suddenly, having a vision of his friends stumbling in injured and near death. He hoped that they were safe and all right. He had heard gunshots earlier. Someone was playing, at it was likely that someone had died. He hoped it wasn't his friends. He wanted them to be healthy, so they could all find a way to go back home.
Entering the building, he took a few minutes to look around to get a general idea of his surroundings. A small waiting room, doors to the side that presumably led to doctor offices and check-up rooms. He sat in one of the chairs in the waiting room, facing the door. From his vantage point, he had a pretty good view of the outside.
Clenching his fists nervously, he waited for his friends.
35 students remaining
September 2 -- 3:55 a.m.
At the northern most point of the island, Draco Malfoy (Boy 13, Slytherin) sat atop a boulder, overlooking the forest to the south, while occasionally checking a device in his hand. (If he were the least bit familiar with muggle things, he would recognize the device as resembling a PDA, but he wasn't, so it was a moot point.) Standing next to the boulder was Gregory Goyle (Boy 9, Slytherin). Before the class had been dismissed, Draco had sent notes to some of the other Slytherins asking them to meet him there. So far only Goyle had shown up. They were currently waiting for Vincent Crabbe (Boy 4, Slytherin), but would only give him five more minutes before they left.
Draco didn't like this. He and Goyle must have gotten the worst weapons of the lot. Goyle had received a flare gun, which might do some damage, but was certain to alert everyone else on the island to their position. Draco didn't fare much better. When he pulled his weapon out of the bag, he wasn't quite sure what it was at first. But upon looking at the instructions that came with it, it appeared to be a tracking device of some sort. It had a map of the island on it, and little red dots that represented students. Unfortunately, it didn't identify them by name. Still, such a thing might be useful. So long as he checked it regularly, nobody could take him by surprise.
He checked the device once more. More dots were becoming stationary, and a few more had gone out. He supposed it couldn't be helped. If he had an actual weapon, he might be playing, too. But as it was, he could only hope that Crabbe would show up soon with a real weapon.
"Anything yet?" Goyle asked, breaking the silence.
Draco shook his head. "No one's coming this way. He better not have abandoned us."
Goyle shrugged, and turned to look to the forest. "He might be dead."
"Maybe."
Unlike many of the other students leaving the school, Draco had the foresight to discover what weapon he had before he left the building. Due to that foresight, he was able to discover his tracking device and what it did. And thus, he knew that one of the students was waiting right above him, most likely planning an ambush. He knew the student was right above him due to the way the dots nearly overlapped, and there wasn't anyone right next to him.
Using the tracking device as his guide, he was able to run to safety before he could be attacked. From his hiding spot, he watched as the next student -- some ugly Hufflepuff girl -- left the building. She was almost hit by a crossbolt, but able to duck into the forest before the attacker could fire another shot. Next out was Theodore Nott, one of the Slytherins Draco had been waiting for. Before Draco could call out to him, Nott broke into a run, zigzagging and making it difficult for him to be attacked properly. Draco followed his movements with the tracking device for a while, but then Nott met with another student, and one of the dots faded out. Draco wasn't sure if it was Nott's dot or not, but he'd rather not face whoever the killer was anyway, so he made his way to the agreed-upon meeting location.
Once he had gotten there, he watched the tracker more carefully, trying to determine who was leaving the school, and where they were going. It appeared that everyone had left by now, yet no one was coming his way. So he began to lose interest and stare into the distant darkness. When he heard gunshots, though, he started to pay attention again. He wondered whose dot had gone out, and who had been responsible.
Draco looked at his watch. "He's not coming. Shall we go?"
Goyle look back to him. "Isn't that a little dangerous, though? Gunshots and all."
Draco shrugged, and held up his tracker. "Maybe, but at least if we see someone approach, we'll have fair warning. Maybe we'll find better weapons, too."
Goyle looked doubtful, but ended up relenting. "Maybe we'll find Crabbe." He paused. "If he's even alive."
Draco nodded, and slid off of the boulder. "The eastern coastline looks clear enough. Most of the students are in the western forest. So long as we're careful, we should be fine. And you have a weapon that you can actually use to defend us. The most I could do is throw this at someone." He paused, then added. "There's a student isolated somewhere in the south-east. Maybe they have a weapon we can use."
"What if it's the shooter?"
Draco shook his head. "Whoever it was went west. We should be fine."
Goyle nodded, and they began their journey east.
35 students remaining