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Note: I've changed the class list around a bit as new information has presented itself. This will be the last time, as I refuse to change anything in the list from now on. None of the changed names have shown up yet so none of the action in the fic so far has changed. On a related note, when I was first compiling the list, my research suggested that Blaise Zabini was a female Slytherin, now I find that may be wrong. Since this particular character has never done anything noteworthy in the books, I've decided that he/she/it shall remain female in this fic. It won't matter much soon anyway.

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8 Students Dead - 32 Students Remaining

      Millicent Bulstrode (Female Student 6, Slytherin) was cold, wet, hungry, and terrified. Her first sight upon exiting the school had been Goyle (whom she had always rather liked) torn almost in half. She had run, fighting the urge to scream because to do so would betray her presence to others. She eventually made her way down to the beach, where she had wedged herself among some rocks to wait out the night. She kept hearing those gun things going off to the north. Then came the morning announcement. Eight students had died in the night.

      Knowing that sooner or later someone would come for her, Millicent opened her bag for the first time since leaving the school. She found all the promised equipment, but where her weapon should have been, there was only a small pewter cauldron, a lot like the one she used in potions lessons. How was she supposed to use that? Beat someone about the head with it?

      More than anything, her weapon made Millicent want to wedge herself even further back in the rocks and just hope nobody found her. But there was something else to consider: in less than three days, everyone left alive (assuming that number was greater than one) would die. She couldn't just hide out. If she wanted to live she would have to kill somebody. And she had to live, she couldn't die here. She just...couldn't!

      Reluctantly, wishing she was anywhere else than here, she climbed out of her hiding place. The sun was still climbing in the sky, but it was already quite warm on the beach, a pleasant change from the cold, wet rocks where she had spent the night. Just standing there, soaking up the sunlight made her feel a little bit better. But she couldn't enjoy the warmth for long; it was dangerous to stand out here in the open. Unfortunately, the forest was a long way away, several miles at least. Her best bet would be to find a building and get inside. Trying to cross those hills in broad daylight would be suicide.

      There were several candidates near the beach. But most were pretty run-down, having been worn away by their closeness to the sea. There was one, however, that still looked clean and didn't bear the appearance of a building that might fall down the instant she set foot inside. As quickly and stealthily as possible, she crossed the beach and made her way up onto the building's front porch. It seemed to be a bed and breakfast set up in someone's beach house, a small bungalow with storm shutters on the windows. The shutters were tightly locked, but fortunately the door wasn't. She stepped into a darkened living room. She took a moment to look around. So this was how Muggles lived. In addition to a few couches and chairs, the room contained a wide range of items Millicent had never seen before and could only guess at their purposes. None of them looked like a weapon, so she didn't bother with any further investigation.

      Somewhere in the back of the house, she heard movement. It was then that she noticed the telltale signs that she had missed on the way in. The door wasn't unlocked, as she had previously thought. Rather, the lock had been forced open. And there was an empty water bottle near the fireplace, just like the ones in her duffle bag. Millicent was instantly terrified again. The 'good' house, the one she had considered safest, had another student in it. She thought of running, but there was no time. The house's other occupant was on their way into the living room. But there was time to reach the closet. She ducked inside and shut the door, hoping that whoever was coming didn't see it shut. Her heart pounding in her chest, she crouched down in the darkness and waited.

      "Hello?" a girl's voice spoke out in the living room. "Who's there?" Millicent realized in a flash of horror that she had left the front door open.

      Think I've run away! She willed the other girl. Please think I ran back outside!

      She heard the other girl cross the room and shut the door. For a moment she thought the girl would go away, but instead she began walking around the room, as if she was looking for something...or someone. Millicent nearly screamed when the handle of the closet door turned and the door swung open. Standing in the door was Victoria Frobisher (Female Student 20, Gryffindor). She was holding a broadsword; it looked really sharp.

      "Victoria..."

      "What are you doing sneaking around like that?" Victoria snapped at her. "I could have killed you, you know?"

      "I'm sorry!" Millicent cried. "I was just scared!"

      Victoria's face softened a little. "It's okay, I'm just glad I didn't stab the sword through the door like I was going to at first." She smiled and offered Millicent her hand, helping her to her feet.

      "So I guess you're here for the same reason I am, right?" Millicent asked. Once she had gotten over her initial fear, she realized there were worse people she could have met than Vicky Frobisher. She was a quiet, reserved girl. Actually, Millicent and her friends had often picked on Vicky and she hadn't offered so much as a peep in retaliation. She wasn't the sort who would kill people.

      "Hiding?" Millicent nodded. "Yeah, I spent the night here, trying to come up with a plan."

      "They gave you a sword?"

      "Yeah," Vicky said, hefting the sword. "Not sure how much good it'll be, I can barely lift it."

      "So what do we do now?" Millicent asked.

      Victoria shrugged. "I was in the kitchen checking my map when you came in." She stepped out of the way and let Millicent out of the closet. "Go ahead, I'm going to see if I can prop the door closed."

      Millicent nodded and headed for the kitchen, thankful that she had found someone safe to partner with, at least for the time being. She was thankful right up until she stepped into the kitchen. A suffocating, coppery scent filled the air. She recognized it immediately. The same smell had filled the classroom when Professor Phalanx shot Justin, and had hung over the courtyard where Goyle and Sally-Ann had died. It was the smell of blood. And it didn't take Millicent long to see where it came from.

      A puddle of red liquid covered the floor of the kitchen, spilling out from the body of Blaise Zabini (Female Student 10, Slytherin). She sat propped up against the stove. A huge gash ran from her left shoulder nearly to her right hip. Millicent ran to her friend's side, but it was too late. Blood still oozed from the ghastly wound, but only because of gravity. Blaise had been dead for quite some time now.

      Millicent heard footsteps behind her. She turned, horrified, to see Victoria standing behind her, sword at the ready.

      "How...?"

      "I feel a little bad about lying to you," Victoria said as if she hadn't even heard Millicent. "Not too guilty, just a little. It was actually Blaise who stayed here last night. I found her here this morning. Can you believe they only gave her some knitting needles to fight with? What did they give you, Millicent?"

      "You killed..."

      "She deserved it!" Vicky said fiercely. "You know, I can't remember a day at Hogwarts that you Slytherin girls didn't tease me about something. Bet you thought it was really funny then, making my life hell."

      "Vicky..." Millicent said gently.

      "Shut up!" Victoria screamed. "Don't call me that! Don't act like we're friends! I hate you! All of you!"

      "You're playing the game..."

      "Don't kid yourself. I know I won't win. I just want to make sure none of you do."

      "Please." Millicent said; she knew she was crying now, but she couldn't stop. "You can't..."

      "I think you'll find I can," Victoria said. Millicent turned to run, but she knew she wouldn't make it. An instant later, she felt the sword plunge into her back. Her lower half went numb and she fell with Victoria on top of her, driving the sword deeper. She couldn't even scream.

      "You remember when I said I couldn't lift this thing?" she hissed in Millicent's ear, "I was lying then, too."

      The rest of Millicent Bulstrode's life was filled with pain, but at least it didn't last very long.

30 Students Remaining

      The door to the clinic was open, swinging back and forth gently.

      "Wait here," Harry said, pushing the door fully open with his taser. He ducked into the hallway, ready to shock anyone who attacked him. But no attack came. Eventually, convinced it was safe, he motioned for Hermione to follow him. The clinic consisted of a waiting room connected by a hallway to a treatment room. Though there was no one in the clinic now, it looked like someone had been there recently. One of the two beds in the treatment room looked like it had been slept in; the other was soaked with blood. The cabinets had been emptied of most of their contents, but Hermione managed to find enough supplies to perform more thorough first aid on Harry's arm.

      "I wonder who was here?" Harry said, hissing slightly as Hermione began stitching the cuts closed.

      "Whoever it was, I don't envy them," Hermione replied. Harry nodded; he wouldn't have thought anyone could bleed that much and walk away from it.

      It took Hermione about an hour to finish the stitches, but only because she wanted to make sure she got them right. After that, she wrapped the wound in one of the few remaining bandages.

      "I hope you're not a baby about shots."

      Before Harry could answer her, or even really think about what she had said, she jabbed a needle into his arm, injecting antibiotics.

      "There, good as new," she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

      "Thanks," Harry said. "Now what?"

      "Well I think our original idea is still the best," Hermione said. She gathered up the wrappings from the supplies she had used to treat Harry and carried them to the dustbin. "We need to get everyone together and figure out how to..." She stopped, unable to speak.

      "Hermione?"

      "Harry..." she whispered breathlessly. "Look."

      Harry followed her gaze down to the dustbin. A set of shredded, bloody Hogwarts robes had been stuffed into the bin. Sitting atop the bloody mess, glinting in the sunlight, was a red prefect's badge. There were only two badges like it on the whole island. And Hermione was wearing the other one.

      "Ron!" Harry gasped. The person who had been here last night, the person whose blood soaked one of the surgical beds, was Ron.

30 Students Remaining

      Hannah Abbot (Female Student 13, Hufflepuff) was determined not to be afraid. She had been in the classroom, and for the first few hours of the battle. Actually, fear didn't do what she had felt justice. Stark terror; that was much more descriptive. But sometime before sunrise, having hidden in a storm drain by the beach all night, she made the conscious decision to let go of her fear. So she wasn't afraid any more. She was angry.

      This whole situation was just too wrong. The very idea that she had to either kill her classmates, her friends, or die at their hands was outrageous. And so instead of being afraid of her fellow students, Hannah had decided to be angry at the people who put them here. True, anger was nowhere near as conducive to survival as fear, but it was enough to keep her going. When she opened her bag and found only a package of Fillibuster's Fireworks inside, fury at the bastards running the program was the response that had kept her sane. Now, with her hatred of Professor Phalanx and everyone she represented driving her forward, Hannah's sole mission was to find one person before she died.

      He was out there, somewhere in this twisted game, fighting for his life just like her. It was strange to be here on this little island yet have no idea where he was. It was the very definition of 'so close, yet so far'.

      There was movement in the bushes next to her. Hannah stepped back as Theodore Nott (Male Student 7, Slytherin) leaped out onto the road. He looked like he had slept on the ground; his uniform was dirty and covered with leaves and small sticks. And there was a look in his eyes that Hannah definitely didn't like.

      "Hannah! I found you!" he said, coming toward her.

      Hannah backed away. "Stay away from me!"

      "Wait," Theodore said, "I know what you're thinking. I'm not here to kill you. I swear."

      "Fine, then go away," Hannah said, she turned to go.

      "Wait!"

      "What?" she turned back to him, annoyed now.

      "It's just...I always liked you," he said. "You're really pretty. I mean I couldn't say it around the other guys. You know, you're in Hufflepuff; I'm in Slytherin...that whole thing. But now..."

      "Now what? Now we might die so you're not afraid to admit you've got a hard-on for me?"

      "What?" Theodore said, trying to look confused.

      "I know all about you, Nott," Hannah said, hoping her voice was conveying exactly how much she loathed this little creep. "You sleep around and then brag about it to your friends. I'm guessing you just don't want to die without having one last shag. All of your old girls say 'no'? Or am I just the first one you've come across?"

      "It's not like that..." Theodore said.

      "Then prove it. Walk away. I've decided not to play this game, so you can go," she swung her bag up onto her shoulder and turned to leave again.

      "Stop!" There was no element of request in Theodore's voice. He was giving orders now. She turned slowly to see him aiming a wand at her.

      "But... But they confiscated..."

      "Guess who got lucky in the weapons department," he said, flashing her a chilling grin. "It's not mine, but it'll do. Now...am I going to have to use this, or are you going to start being nice?"

      "If you're going to kill me, go ahead," she said. "But if you try anything else, I may forget that I'm not playing."

      Nott laughed. "What do you think you can do? I'm the one with the wand, remember. Don't you want to have a little fun before you die? I know you and Macmillan never did it. Don't you want to know what it's like?"

      Hannah glared at him hatefully. "With you, Nott?" she said coldly. "I'd sooner fuck a Troll."

      His expression changed from false humor to rage. He raised the wand again. "We'll see about that, you little tease! Imperio!"

      She didn't even have a chance to be surprised that a little maggot like Theodore Nott could perform the Imperius Curse. The spell washed over her, replacing her anger and disgust with a pleasant warmth. She fought the warmth, struggling to push it away as Professor Moody had taught her. It was not for nothing that Hannah Abbot was a member of Dumbledore's Army. When the commands came, she was ready for them.

      Come to me.

      No.

      Come to me now!

      No. Get out of my head!

      YOU WILL COME TO ME!

      NOT A BLOODY CHANCE!

      With a rush of pleasantly cool air, the spell broke. Nott was standing before her, furious.

      "Fine!" he growled. "I was trying to be nice! But if you insist on doing everything the hard way... Petrificus Totalus!"

      Again, there was no time to block the spell even if she'd had a wand. But this wasn't one that could be fought with the mind. She felt her body seize up and tried to scream, but the spell took effect too fast. At least she managed to shut her eyes; now that they were held shut by the spell, at least she wouldn't have to see what was about to happen. She fell to the ground with a dull thud. A moment later she felt him next to her, his breath in her face, a hand moving up her leg, toward the hem of her skirt. A few tears managed to spill out of her eyes even through the petrifaction spell. But she couldn't scream, or fight back no matter how much she wanted to.

      And then, as suddenly as it began, it was over. With a sickening *thud-crack* Nott's presence was gone. She heard him roll into the bushes next to her, groaning in pain. A gunshot rang out and the groan turned into a high, almost girlish scream. Two more shots followed and the scream fell silent. A moment later a voice, the voice she had wanted to hear since leaving the classroom, spoke:

      "Finite Incantatum."

      Immediately, she could move again. She opened her eyes and cried new tears - this time tears of happiness - as the boy she loved more than anything else, Ernie Macmillan (Male Student 15, Hufflepuff) helped her to her feet. She embraced him, unable to stop crying.

      "Are you all right?" Ernie asked, "Did he hurt you?"

      "No...No..." She said. She leaned up and kissed Ernie. "You saved me."

      She looked to where Theodore Nott had fallen. The two bullet holes in his chest were what had killed him, but the other shot - directly in his groin - would have done the job, just slower and more painfully.

      "I...got a little carried away," Ernie said, seeming to suddenly realize what he had done. "I mean...He was trying...He was gonna..."

      "It's all right," she said, hugging him tighter, willing him not to fall apart. "It's all right. You had to. But we have to go now, someone will come..."

      Ernie couldn't take his eyes off of Theodore's body. He looked like he was about to be sick. It was all Hannah could do to grab his bag of gear, gather the gun and wand he had dropped, and drag him into the woods and out of sight.

29 Students Remaining

To be continued...