Neville Longbottom (Boy 11, Gryffindor) had tossed his Ingram aside when it ran out of bullets. He didn't know if any of the other guns' spares would fit it, and wasn't going to take the time to find out. Although he would miss the Ingram, he couldn't take the time to mourn its loss. He had more important things to concern himself with.
"Harry!" he shouted at the fleeing boy, who stopped and turned around. Neville stood out in the open, holding an arm around the throat of a whimpering Hermione Granger (Girl 8, Gryffindor) while he aimed the gun he held in his other hand at her head. The guns she had held lay on the ground by his feet.
Harry Potter (Boy 15, Gryffindor) froze, eyes widening. "Let her go!" he shouted back.
"You're not in any position to make demands!" Neville yelled. "Now drop your weapons!"
Hermione tried to squirm free, but that only made Neville's grip on her tighten. "Don't do it!"
Harry remained frozen, unsure of what to do. If he let go of his weapons, then they both would die. But if he didn't, then Neville might kill Hermione. "We don't have to do this!" he shouted, trying to buy some time as he thought things over. "I think there's a way out of here!"
"Liar!" Neville dug the muzzle of the gun against Hermione's head. "Do you want her to die? Drop your weapons!"
"Don't worry about me!" Hermione shouted. "Save yourself!"
"You shut up!" Neville hissed. "Do you want to die?" He looked to Harry, who remained frozen. "Well? Do you think I won't kill her?"
Harry took a step forward, then stopped as Neville's finger twitched over the trigger. "This isn't you, Neville. Please. Just let her go."
"Drop your weapons." He tightened his grip around Hermione's throat enough so that she could barely breathe. "And I would suggest that you stop reaching for whatever weapon you might have in your pocket."
Hermione froze. She had been trying to reach for the stun gun Blaise had left her without Neville noticing, but it looked like that wouldn't work. His grip on her relaxed enough for her to breathe again, but not enough that she could break free.
"I'll give you to the count of ten, and if you haven't dropped your weapons by then, I will kill her. One."
Harry looked at Hermione, making eye contact.
"Two."
"Harry..." Hermione pleaded.
"Three."
The conflicting emotions Harry felt waged war across his face. He couldn't leave her...
"Four."
Harry closed his eye tightly. If he weren't holding onto the guns, he would clench his fists as well.
"Five."
"Do you promise me you'll let her go?" he asked, not opening his eyes.
Neville nodded. "Yes. Six."
Hermione shook her head. "Harry, no! Save yourself!"
"Seven."
Harry opened his eyes and looked up at her. "I..."
"Eight."
The guns Harry had been holding fell to the ground.
Neville smiled and released his grip on Hermione, while aiming his gun at Harry now. He shoved Hermione away with his now free hand. "Go," he said.
Nodding, Hermione dashed toward Harry, who stood frozen in place. When she was halfway to him, Neville's gun shifted toward her, and he fired.
Hermione's eyes widened as the bullet tore through her. "Harry..." she said before she fell to the ground.
"No!" Forgetting his guns, Harry ran over to her. "No..." Ignoring the pain he felt as he slid to the ground before her, he picked her up. "Say something... Anything..." He was met with silence, and he checked for her pulse. "No..." He glared up at Neville, who was walking toward him. "You said you'd let her go! You promised!"
Neville stopped. "And I did. I didn't promise I wouldn't shoot her, though."
Harry just glared up at him. "How could you? How can you be so calm?!" Neville didn't say anything. "Answer me!" Harry screamed.
Neville just looked at him dully. "Kill or be killed. Those are the rules, right? Just like the prophecy."
Harry blinked, setting Hermione down to the ground. "What?"
Neville smiled bitterly. "Did you think I didn't know about it?" His voice softened. "I've always known. Or at least since I can remember. Everyone thinks it's you, because you were the one attacked and not me. But maybe..." His eyes went slowly out of focus for a moment before focusing on Harry once more. "How can anyone know that it wasn't an act of capriciousness? A flip of the coin? Heads, he goes after you; tails, he goes after me." He shrugged. "Maybe it was because our secret keeper didn't betray us. Convenience, then."
Harry looked at the boy. "You had a secret keeper too?"
Neville nodded. "Naturally. He was after both of us, after all."
"So..." Harry sank in his crouching position and stared at the ground. "It might... Be either of us, really..."
Neville shrugged. "Maybe. I'm not so sure of how the whole marking of an equal process works. It doesn't have to be a physical mark, I don't think. Maybe..." He looked past Harry off into the distance. "It's possible... That maybe the prophecy already has come to pass."
Harry's eyes widened, and he looked back up at the other boy. "But... He's still out there!"
Neville continued to stare off into the distance. "True..." He turned back to Harry. "But when he attacked you when you were a baby... Something happened to him, and he was gone. Vanquished. Even though he came back, you had vanquished him." He looked to the gun he held in his hand. "There's far too much blood on my hands, isn't there?" Tears began to form in his eyes, and he took a step back. "I didn't even bother to keep track. I wonder just how many people I've killed. Friends, enemies... It didn't matter."
Harry slowly stood up. "So... What happens now?"
Neville looked at him sharply. "Why did you team up with a Slytherin?"
Harry shrugged. "He saved our lives a number of times. I think he knew a way off this island, too."
Neville scoffed. "And you give him your trust so easily?" He shook his head. "Slytherins lie. There is no way out of here. Hasn't that sunk in yet? Only one of us can survive." His face tightened and he took another step back. "He would have killed you. And anyone else foolish enough to trust him. Escape is impossible..."
"But what if he had found a way?" Harry asked, taking a few steps toward Neville, who was starting to tremble slightly.
"Keep your distance!" Neville shrieked, aiming the gun at Harry, who froze. "And if he said there's a way out, he was lying!" He clenched his free hand into a fist. "There's no way out. It's impossible... Because if... If it's not..." He took another step back, shaking.
Harry contemplated the other boy for a few moments, then looked down at Hermione. "Do you believe in an afterlife?" He didn't wait for a response before continuing. "That those you've lost will be waiting on the other side?" He turned back to Neville, who was staring at him wide-eyed. "A place where no one stares at my scar, and I can just be an ordinary boy without the weight of the world resting on my shoulders. That's what I want. My happy place, where I'll be surrounded by my friends and family." He sighed, then smiled slightly. "They're waiting for me. Just beyond the veil."
Neville took another step back. "Stop it..."
"Maybe it's better this way. Even if we do escape... There's nothing waiting for me out there. Everyone's gone..." Now it was his turn to look off to the distance. "I never gave much thought about the future. I thought that being an auror sounded fun, but... I could never work for the Ministry after all that's happened." Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he turned back to Neville. "And even if we did escape, we'd be fugitives. So maybe it's better if you live."
Neville's eyes widened.
Harry smiled sadly at him. "There's nothing to fetter me to this world anymore. Everything... Everyone is gone..." He smiled and closed his eyes. "But I'll see them again. Dumbledore once told me that death is just the next great adventure. I wonder what it's like..."
Neville took a step back. "You're trying to trick me..."
Harry shook his head, opening his eyes. "I'm not going to kill you, Neville. So unless you kill me, both of us will die when our collars detonate tomorrow. Or maybe I could just walk into a forbidden zone and save you the trouble."
Neville took another step back, his face darkening. "Stop it..."
"I have no regrets. Not anymore."
"STOP IT!" Neville screamed, firing the gun. His eyes widened as he realized what he had done, and he watched in horror as Harry fell to the ground. A piece of paper fell out of his pocket and fluttered to the ground as he did. Shakily, he walked over and picked it up.
Although the barriers that had blocked away his emotions had already begun to crumble, what was left of them fell down completely as he read what was written on the paper. Tears formed in his eyes and he sank to his knees, not even hearing Montgomery's final announcement.
'There's a stun gun in my pack. If you set that off at the same time that you connect a jumper cable connected to one of the car batteries to your collar, you can remove the collar and escape.'
1 student remaining -- Game Over
September 3 -- 6:43 p.m.
With the announcement that a winner had emerged and the year's program had ended, the day-long meeting had finally dispersed. Cornelius Fudge stood out in the hallway, feeling rather relieved that his job was still intact, and that Program 12 would resume as planned for the next year. The other world leaders were gathering in the hallway as well, chatting about various things.
"Do not take it personally," the Japanese Advisor of Magic, Akira Hiyama, said as he approached. "They're just afraid because of the evil wizard situation."
Fudge nodded slowly. "At least it's someone else's problem next year."
Hiyama agreed. "That is true." He smiled slightly. "Your assistant really helped, even if that wasn't his intention. The youth of today are no good, and he proved it for all to see. How long will he be in prison for?"
Fudge shrugged. "I don't know, and I don't care."
Hiyama nodded. "I suppose it does not matter." He bowed. "Goodbye, then, Fudge-san."
Fudge glanced toward the other leaders as the other man left. Their numbers were starting to thin as some Disapparated and went home. That might be a good idea. After everything, he deserved a nice rest at home. Maybe he'd take the day off from work tomorrow as well. Not bothering to speak to anyone else, he Disapparated.
September 3 -- 8:26 p.m.
Neville said absolutely nothing as he sat on one of the sofas situated within a small room on the rescue ship. It wasn't as though there was anyone to talk to, anyway. Montgomery and his lackeys were somewhere on the upper deck, laughing and settling bets. It made him sick to his stomach that they actually took bets on who the winner would be. Speaking of which, the stench from the bucket next to the sofa was getting to be unbearable.
Even after Montgomery had announced him to be this year's winner, and deactivated the forbidden zones so that he could get to the school, Neville hadn't moved from his spot on the rocky beach. He just sat there for half an hour before they realized that he wasn't going to move and came to collect him. He had thought about using his gun on them, but decided against it. He had already killed too many people. Too many...
After confiscating all of the weapons he had on him, they led him back to the school, where his collar was detached and his wand given back to him. They then led him to the harbor, where a ship waited to take them back to the mainland. Apparently a clean up crew was to come by the next day to deal with the bodies of his classmates. He felt sick again, just thinking about it.
Placing his hand over his mouth, he got up and leaned over the bucket, expelling what little remained of the contents of his stomach. He had already thrown up so many times that he was surprised there was anything left. This wasn't the first bucket he had gone through, either.
He wiped his mouth and was sitting back on the sofa when Montgomery entered the room. He didn't bother to acknowledge the man's presence as he looked to the wall.
Montgomery sat down across from him in the other sofa. He sat the tray he had been carrying down on the table between them. "Have some tea, why don't you. It'll help calm you down." Neville said nothing, and he shrugged. "Alright, then." He poured himself a cup and took a sip. "A rather spectacular performance, I might say. Very seldomly have I seen anyone get so into the game as you have. Truly marvelous." He poured a cup of tea for Neville and slid it down the table to him. "You sure you don't want any?"
Neville remained where he was, not saying a word.
Montgomery took another sip of his tea. "Did you know that we have a betting pool on who the winner will be? I had my money on Blaise. 100 Galleons." He shook his head. "Clayton's up there gloating. He had his money on you. Made himself quite a nice sum."
Neville looked at him in disgust. "You guys are filth."
Montgomery chuckled. "We're not so bad, really. We just get bored. Not much to do most of the time. Plan for the next year's program throughout most of the year, and make sure things go smoothly when the program's on."
"You get off on other people's misery. Now leave me alone."
Montgomery smiled. "Aren't we the touchy one today?" He sipped his tea, and his face turned serious. "And I don't get off on people's misery. I just try to look on the bright side of things."
Neville didn't answer, instead choosing to stare at a spot on the wall.
Montgomery sat his teacup down on the table. "Did you know that we can listen to you students through the collars? No visuals, mind you, for which I suppose I'm rather grateful for. But we can hear you." Neville looked to him, and he continued. "Potter wasn't lying, when he said there was a way out. Oh, I'm sure you read about it on that piece of paper we found you with. I suppose we'll have to redesign the collars for next year to make sure that flaw can't be exploited." He smiled. "I wouldn't expect any less from Blaise, figuring out the flaws."
Neville remained silent.
Montgomery waved his hand. "Not very nice of him, though, calling me a bastard. Unlike him, my parents were married before they had me."
"And I'm sure they're regretting the moment they had you." Neville paused. "You call all of us by our last names, but refer to him by his first. Why?"
Montgomery leaned back in his seat, a wide grin on his face. "Talkative now, aren't we?" He shrugged, and a sorrowful look flashed in his eyes for a split second. "It doesn't really matter, does it?" He paused. "It's a good thing you didn't trust them enough to listen. None of you would have gotten far, had you actually succeeding in removing the collars."
Neville sighed. "Are you here for any particular reason except to annoy me? Because if not, then I would ask you again to just leave."
Montgomery smiled. "Would you rather one of the others keep you company?" His face turned serious again. "You need to vent, and I got the short straw."
Neville shrugged indifferently. "Good for you."
There was a knock on the door, and Sanchez walked into the room. "Sir, we're approaching the shore."
Montgomery nodded. "Ah, good." He stood up and looked to Neville. "I'll leave you alone until then, yes?" Neville didn't respond, and the two Ministry wizards walked out.
Neville glanced at his untouched cup of tea. Picking it up, he cried out with anger and he threw it against the door. After staring at the door for a few seconds, he put his face into his hands and began to cry.