The News
JK's characters, settings, and stuff like that—I don't want to take that from her.
Bold font = Paddy's story
The Gryffindor Common room was very tense, and quiet that night. The three of them were all sitting in opposite armchairs. Hermione was tapping her fingers on her knees, biting her bottom lip. Ron was staring at the fire, not blinking. Ginny had a Transfiguration book out and she was looking at it, but her eyes weren't moving. Ginny, also, was biting her bottommost lip.
They had been waiting in the now-empty common room for the longest three hours in their entire lives. The clock on the wall chimed thee o'clock (a.m.) when Professor McGonagall came bustling into the room.
Ginny's book fell to the ground, Hermione looked up, and Ron stood up when McGonagall spoke. "Professor Dumbledore would like to see the three of you, and it is very nice of you to wait on Harry like this." She added.
'Why did Dumbledore want to see them, now? Is Harry back? Is Harry alright? Did he win?' Were questions running through Ron, Hermione, and Ginny's minds.
They followed their Professor silently up to the statue that led to Dumbledore's office. "Fizzing Wizbee," She said. The statue sprang alive, and the four of them arrived in front of the door to Dumbledore's office.
When they entered, there were already people in the room—only four vacant chairs, which they sat themselves down in. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all looking worried and confused.
Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, but there were other people in there, too. Lupin, Fred and George, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were all sitting, quiet, and pale-faced. But no Harry.
'What, were they all waiting for Harry to return through a Portkey, or something? Or had he—no, Harry's just lost or something. Yeah, that's it, he's lost.' Ron thought, at least until he heard the tone of Dumbledore's voice.
"As we all know very well, Harry Potter had left to do a very brave thing this night," Dumbledore said. The room nodded back at him. "He was to conquer Voldemort, and this he did." The room perked up a bit. "But to do so—he had to make a sacrifice himself." Ginny's eyes widened. "To save our world, and the muggle world, too; Both Voldemort and Harry are—." His voice broke off, and Dumbledore bowed his head. "Dead."
A few tears trickled down Dumbledore's cheek, into his beard. Ginny ran across the room and hugged her crying mother, and sobbed silently into her chest. Hermione, whose eyes started watering the minute they walked in the room, began crying her heart out on Ron's shoulder. Ron patted her reassuringly on the back, his eyes shut.
Mr. Wealsey's eyes were also shut, his jaw tightened, and holding the hand of his wife. Lupin was staring at the floor his jaw muscle also appeared tightened. Fred and George had their foreheads in their hands, eyes shut. But one thing was going through all of their minds. 'Harry's... dead. He's gone. He's never coming back. Ever.'
The Weasley's (and Hermione) felt as if they lost a family member, Lupin, as if he lost another best friend. The room was filled with sniffs and sobs.
"I am sorry this has happened, and I know we all wish Harry our best," Dumbledore concluded, looking at all of them, Ginny now sobbing in her hands. "Now I think we should all get back to our lives. Goodnight."
Mrs. Weasley gave them all a big hug before the five of them left. Professor McGonagall escorted the three back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione, still looking teary.
Ginny couldn't take anymore, "G'night. As if it's good," she muttered, and hugged the both of them, and ran up to her dormitory, not wanting to talk.
Hermione sat down on one of the couches in front of the coals of the fire and began to sob into her hands. Harry was dead, there was no more, and he won't be coming back.
Ron just stood there for a moment, thinking, determined not to cry. He went over and put his arm around Hermione, who began saying in-between sobs, "Ron," she sniffed. "Ron, he's- he's-..." She couldn't go on. Why did they have to loose a best friend, now?
"I know," Ron put both of his arms around her, her sobs slowed down.
"I'm sorry," She said, getting up. "'Night, Ron."
"It's ok," said Ron, also getting up. They both went up to bed without another word.
He would not cry; he could not cry. Ron had his face planted into a pillow, letting the nights events sink in. It was nice that all the trouble with You-Know-Who was over, but a dead best friend was worst than the troubles. Now he knows how Lupin felt. For he was crying.
Ron didn't notice that Neville's snores had slowly stopped, until, "Ron?"
Neville Longbottom's head peeked through Ron's curtains. Ron looked up very quickly and he wiped his eyes off with his sleeve. "Ron?" Neville repeated. "Why were you crying?" "I wasn't crying," said Ron stubbornly. "Besides, it's none of your business, anyway."
"Yeah," Neville said sarcastically, "Sure."
"Why are you up at this time, anyway?"
He shrugged." Dunno, but it was perfect timing in my dream, though. Hey—is Harry back yet?"
Ron sat up and took a gulp, "No."
"Hear anything about it from Dumbledore?"
"Yeah, I did. Hermione and Ginny, too."
"Well?" Neville smiled and looked eager.
Ron hesitated for a moment and did not make eye contact with him. "He beat You-Know-Who."
Neville punched the air. "Yes! But—why isn't Harry back?"
Ron lay back down and hid his face. It was so hard to tell Neville this—almost as hard as taking the news himself. But not as hard as accepting it. "Neville—Harry's dead."
Neville's eyes, much like Ginny's, grew very wide, and he was blinking more than normally. 'Harry? Dead? A' course not—he's just trying to make me look like a fool...' "D-d-d-dead? No—No—Harry isn't, he's not, can't be..." Neville began muttering very quickly, taking his grip off of the curtain.
Ron turned back around to face him, eyes still a bit wet—but not as visible in the dark. "Neville," he said, opening up his bed curtains. "Harry is dead. I'm serous."
But he wouldn't believe him, he couldn't! Harry was the best at Defense Against the Dark Arts, how could they just both be dead? How could such a thing occur?
"No," muttered Neville again, to stubborn to believe it true, shaking his head. "No, Ron. You're mad—Harry, can't be—be dead."
This annoyed Ron greatly. He was already mad at the world for Harry's death—and having to tell the same person it three times wasn't very enjoyable. "Neville I told you already!" He yelled, making no effort to lower his voice. "Harry's dead and you're going to have to accept that sometime!" Ron slammed his curtains shut, and he screamed into his pillow, which eventually turned into muffled sobs.
Dean Thomas, a fellow dorm mate of Ron and Neville's, had heard his yells. "Ron? Neville? S'matter?" he said, yawning, and beginning to sit up.
"Nothing, Dean. Go back to sleep," Neville said, sounding as if his nose was stuffed, and got into his own bed.
You read it—you loved it—now review it.
Don't kill me on how they got to Dumbledore's office; I'm too lazy to look it up in the book. I re-did this one... and added the old chapter 3 to it. xP Don't attack me.
JK's characters, settings, and stuff like that—I don't want to take that from her.
Bold font = Paddy's story
The Gryffindor Common room was very tense, and quiet that night. The three of them were all sitting in opposite armchairs. Hermione was tapping her fingers on her knees, biting her bottom lip. Ron was staring at the fire, not blinking. Ginny had a Transfiguration book out and she was looking at it, but her eyes weren't moving. Ginny, also, was biting her bottommost lip.
They had been waiting in the now-empty common room for the longest three hours in their entire lives. The clock on the wall chimed thee o'clock (a.m.) when Professor McGonagall came bustling into the room.
Ginny's book fell to the ground, Hermione looked up, and Ron stood up when McGonagall spoke. "Professor Dumbledore would like to see the three of you, and it is very nice of you to wait on Harry like this." She added.
'Why did Dumbledore want to see them, now? Is Harry back? Is Harry alright? Did he win?' Were questions running through Ron, Hermione, and Ginny's minds.
They followed their Professor silently up to the statue that led to Dumbledore's office. "Fizzing Wizbee," She said. The statue sprang alive, and the four of them arrived in front of the door to Dumbledore's office.
When they entered, there were already people in the room—only four vacant chairs, which they sat themselves down in. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all looking worried and confused.
Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, but there were other people in there, too. Lupin, Fred and George, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were all sitting, quiet, and pale-faced. But no Harry.
'What, were they all waiting for Harry to return through a Portkey, or something? Or had he—no, Harry's just lost or something. Yeah, that's it, he's lost.' Ron thought, at least until he heard the tone of Dumbledore's voice.
"As we all know very well, Harry Potter had left to do a very brave thing this night," Dumbledore said. The room nodded back at him. "He was to conquer Voldemort, and this he did." The room perked up a bit. "But to do so—he had to make a sacrifice himself." Ginny's eyes widened. "To save our world, and the muggle world, too; Both Voldemort and Harry are—." His voice broke off, and Dumbledore bowed his head. "Dead."
A few tears trickled down Dumbledore's cheek, into his beard. Ginny ran across the room and hugged her crying mother, and sobbed silently into her chest. Hermione, whose eyes started watering the minute they walked in the room, began crying her heart out on Ron's shoulder. Ron patted her reassuringly on the back, his eyes shut.
Mr. Wealsey's eyes were also shut, his jaw tightened, and holding the hand of his wife. Lupin was staring at the floor his jaw muscle also appeared tightened. Fred and George had their foreheads in their hands, eyes shut. But one thing was going through all of their minds. 'Harry's... dead. He's gone. He's never coming back. Ever.'
The Weasley's (and Hermione) felt as if they lost a family member, Lupin, as if he lost another best friend. The room was filled with sniffs and sobs.
"I am sorry this has happened, and I know we all wish Harry our best," Dumbledore concluded, looking at all of them, Ginny now sobbing in her hands. "Now I think we should all get back to our lives. Goodnight."
Mrs. Weasley gave them all a big hug before the five of them left. Professor McGonagall escorted the three back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione, still looking teary.
Ginny couldn't take anymore, "G'night. As if it's good," she muttered, and hugged the both of them, and ran up to her dormitory, not wanting to talk.
Hermione sat down on one of the couches in front of the coals of the fire and began to sob into her hands. Harry was dead, there was no more, and he won't be coming back.
Ron just stood there for a moment, thinking, determined not to cry. He went over and put his arm around Hermione, who began saying in-between sobs, "Ron," she sniffed. "Ron, he's- he's-..." She couldn't go on. Why did they have to loose a best friend, now?
"I know," Ron put both of his arms around her, her sobs slowed down.
"I'm sorry," She said, getting up. "'Night, Ron."
"It's ok," said Ron, also getting up. They both went up to bed without another word.
He would not cry; he could not cry. Ron had his face planted into a pillow, letting the nights events sink in. It was nice that all the trouble with You-Know-Who was over, but a dead best friend was worst than the troubles. Now he knows how Lupin felt. For he was crying.
Ron didn't notice that Neville's snores had slowly stopped, until, "Ron?"
Neville Longbottom's head peeked through Ron's curtains. Ron looked up very quickly and he wiped his eyes off with his sleeve. "Ron?" Neville repeated. "Why were you crying?" "I wasn't crying," said Ron stubbornly. "Besides, it's none of your business, anyway."
"Yeah," Neville said sarcastically, "Sure."
"Why are you up at this time, anyway?"
He shrugged." Dunno, but it was perfect timing in my dream, though. Hey—is Harry back yet?"
Ron sat up and took a gulp, "No."
"Hear anything about it from Dumbledore?"
"Yeah, I did. Hermione and Ginny, too."
"Well?" Neville smiled and looked eager.
Ron hesitated for a moment and did not make eye contact with him. "He beat You-Know-Who."
Neville punched the air. "Yes! But—why isn't Harry back?"
Ron lay back down and hid his face. It was so hard to tell Neville this—almost as hard as taking the news himself. But not as hard as accepting it. "Neville—Harry's dead."
Neville's eyes, much like Ginny's, grew very wide, and he was blinking more than normally. 'Harry? Dead? A' course not—he's just trying to make me look like a fool...' "D-d-d-dead? No—No—Harry isn't, he's not, can't be..." Neville began muttering very quickly, taking his grip off of the curtain.
Ron turned back around to face him, eyes still a bit wet—but not as visible in the dark. "Neville," he said, opening up his bed curtains. "Harry is dead. I'm serous."
But he wouldn't believe him, he couldn't! Harry was the best at Defense Against the Dark Arts, how could they just both be dead? How could such a thing occur?
"No," muttered Neville again, to stubborn to believe it true, shaking his head. "No, Ron. You're mad—Harry, can't be—be dead."
This annoyed Ron greatly. He was already mad at the world for Harry's death—and having to tell the same person it three times wasn't very enjoyable. "Neville I told you already!" He yelled, making no effort to lower his voice. "Harry's dead and you're going to have to accept that sometime!" Ron slammed his curtains shut, and he screamed into his pillow, which eventually turned into muffled sobs.
Dean Thomas, a fellow dorm mate of Ron and Neville's, had heard his yells. "Ron? Neville? S'matter?" he said, yawning, and beginning to sit up.
"Nothing, Dean. Go back to sleep," Neville said, sounding as if his nose was stuffed, and got into his own bed.
You read it—you loved it—now review it.
Don't kill me on how they got to Dumbledore's office; I'm too lazy to look it up in the book. I re-did this one... and added the old chapter 3 to it. xP Don't attack me.