Chapter 4

Ron starts to attack. He takes out his wand but before he utters a curse I cry that I don't want to kill him, that he can still come back to the good side. Even with my future-seeing abilities, I can't see that this is not going to work.

It doesn't work.

Ron attacks.

I sigh. I don't want to do this. Really don't want to do this. But I have to. I'm the epitome of good, but sometimes you just have to kill to do what's right. Using my powers of … something, I can't remember what, I kill Ron. He dies. Just like that. There he is, lying on the floor, cold, pale and lifeless. What a waste of a life. It's my fault really, being a Mary Sue, but I can't help it. I can't help who I am.

Voldemort comes out. His eyes are red and he has slits for a nose. Not a very fatherly figure, if you ask me, but he's still my father. Albeit a very evil one, who probably wouldn't hesitate to kill me.

I can't kill Voldemort, though. He is my flesh and blood. Due to some clause in the Mary Sue contract I signed, I can't kill my flesh and blood directly. There is a round-about way of killing my own flesh and blood, but it isn't until everything turns dire that I remember it. I also remember it was written in fine print.

Voldemort tortures Harry. I am rendered completely helpless for a while, for reasons unbeknownst. Then he tortures me. His own flesh and blood! How, how? I will be traumatised forever by this, I just know it. Then I will have to be cradled in the loving arms of either Draco or Harry, whoever survives this. If they both survive then I'll just be loved and cradled by both.

Then, finally, I remember what I have to do. Summoning up all my courage, and muttering an 'I Love You' to both Harry and Draco (yes, I love two people at one time) I sacrifice myself in order to kill Voldemort and save the entire wizarding world from doom.

I die.

Hermione cannot write her expose on me. Which is good. The truth will still ... be out there.

Everyone grieves for me and says how good I was, and how I deserved to live.

But it is done. I am dead.

My story ends with a corny poem.

My story's ending was also incredibly rushed, but when you have an author with a short attention span this is what you get.

Oh, the burdens of being a dead Mary Sue.

I will arise from the grave. I know it. I can feel it in my dead bones.

Three days later …

I have arisen from the dead. I told you. There was a hidden prophecy that no one knew about. It said I would arise from the grave. It also says I will become evil and ravage all the world. Only the power of love from Harry and Draco will save me. And it does. I was evil, and I did ravage the world, but no more. I am the epitome of goodness again.

Ah, the burdens of being a Mary Sue.

-THE END-