Chapter 3: Numbered Days
Disclaimer: This is useless fanfiction. Clearly, I am a fan. I am not JK Rowling, disguised as someone else (and if I am, I'm making a very good job of it, because she surely wouldn't write something so bad). I am not Warner Bros. I have no claim to any of the characters included in this fanfic. I am a FAN! How exciting!
"Die, my dear Doctor, that's the last thing I shall do!"
Lord Palmerston
1992
Dumbledore had checked with Nicholas and Nicholas had actually bothered to ask me, and so it was decided. Voldemort had almost got hold of the Stone, and we needed to destroy it.
I'd been called from the kitchen to give my opinion, as if anyone would listen to it, but I'd had to disappear to save the burning dinner. When I reappeared, the smell of not-quite-burnt lasagne in my wake, I'd already made my decision.
"Destroy it," I firmly told Albus' head, which was cheerfully sitting in the fire. I didn't tell him that life was beginning to bore me, despite my assertion that 'only boring people get bored'. I suppose that after 600 years, though, I was justified.
Nicholas was assuring Albus that we had plenty of Elixir of Life left to do the small things we had to do, and Albus was looking doubtfully at both of s.
That was when I admitted my thoughts about dying. "I'm quite looking forward to it. It's a bit of an adventure, really. We're travelling into uncharted territory, in a way."
Albus managed to accept that, and disappeared with a 'pop'.
"Nicholas," I suddenly said, "We're going to run out of Elixir on my 660th birthday."
I'd been counting down the days to my birthday, like a five-year-old, and when it eventually arrived, I was surprised to find myself excited. Excited about dying? Whatever next?
Nicholas was tense, but I was perfectly calm and serene. Death would be my long retirement from life; a retirement I had often wished for. I continued to number the days.
Two weeks… a week… five days… three… two… one…
I lay calmly on my bed, listening to Nicholas fidget beside me. Both of us looked older than we ever had, since we'd stopped taking Elixir, and felt it, too. Nicholas, to his utter and amusing horror, had lost his hair and teeth, whereas my hearing had deteriorated extensively and I had a bad hip. I tiredly watched the world go by as death approached.
A sleep was what I needed most, and when death beckoned, I willingly followed. The little strength I had left me, and I felt relief I had never known.
END
AN: It's too dramatic, it's badly written, overall, it's rubbish, but you can review anyway!
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