Students knocked over desks, screaming in horror as the shots of bullets rang out. The scent of blood and spilled chemicals filled the room, choking their lungs and burning their eyes. One or two tried to run, before their crazed attacker shouted them down and they huddled fearfully on the ground with the others, eyeing his threateningly brandished pistols fearfully. Screams and whimpers echoed in the air, twirling together with the ambient fear and chaos. For a brief and horrifying moment, order and sanity departed completely before a cool and agonizingly calm voice pierced through the ruckus.
"Mister Longbottom, put down that Muggle weapon at once." Severus Snape ordered, wand poised.
Neville shook his head, tears of madness and grief streaming down his cheeks. "No." He said simply, the evenness of his tone contrasting with the raw emotion in his face.
"Mister Longobttom, put down the weapon or I will be forced to take drastic measures!" Snape threatened, every vibration of his tone conveying possibilities most dire.
Neville still did not comply. Sneering, Snape began to motion with his wand. "Expelli-" he began, before two thunderous blasts drowned out his voice and pierced his forehead. There was a thud as his corpse fell to the ground in a splatter of its own blood near an increasingly anxious Slytherin girl.
Neville stood, grinning maniacally and holding two pistols like a bumbling, magical John Woo. "He never was very good to me." Neville confided for anyone who had been asleep for the past five years. "None of you have been very good to me." He added, glaring at his classmates with a resentment that rivaled a fussy Jew in a pigsty. "None of you have ever respected me. None of you have ever feared me. We should change that…"
"Neville!" Harry Potter cried out, in a voice any oh-aren't-I-heroic-adolescent-boy-wish-fulfillment-protagonist would gleefully trade in his plucky side-kick and shiny destiny for. "This is enough! You've gone too far!" As he said this, he stood up and approached Neville. "Now, give me the gun."
Neville looked at Harry's outstretched hands, and then at the gun in his own, and sighed heavily. He handed the pistols over. Then, he grabbed Harry by the throat and extracted a hypodermic needle from his robes. "You're feeling awfully courageous, aren't you Harry? Very capable. I can fix that." And with that, he pierced the needle into Harry's throat. Harry coughed and sputtered, doubling over with pain, as his flesh bubbled and his body warped.
"You… bastard!" Harry cried, tears streaming down his cheeks in anguish before his eyes morphed and his voice changed. The tears kept coming, and the sobs kept sounding, but they were both hollow and soulless as his face became plastic and incapable of actual expression. "I'm quite glum." The mute-looking Harry explained to anyone who hadn't gotten the point.
Neville sneered happily as he explained the transformation to the other students. "I filled the syringe with a Polyjuice potion, just in case Harry tried to intervene. I couldn't go dealing with anyone capable or talented, so…"
"You transformed him into Danielle Radcliffe, you monster!" Hermione shrieked in realization. Neville simply laughed insanely.
Hermione rushed to her friend, who was still busy trying to cry, before she wrenched a pistol out of his hand and mercifully shot him. He let out a gasp of breath before falling to his knees, and clutching at the gaping wound in his chest. He looked up with the vacant expression of a retarded child who'd just been hit by a boat in Arizona, before whining out "I'm emoooooting!" and perishing messily.
Splattered in gore, Hermione tackled Neville to the ground and pistol-whipped him viciously. His teeth and bits of his face flew up at her, soaking into her pores along with Harry's blood. "Why are you still laughing?" She snarled.
"Because…", he explained between chuckles, "I pricked you with Emma Watson's Polyjuice potion while you were shooting Harry!" And to prove his point, he twirled an emptied syringe in between his fingers.
Hermione leapt up off of Neville, head shaking in horror as she backed away. "No… No, it can't be!" She yelped, before turning towards a mirror. "It can't… I can't… I… Oh God!" Her hand flew up to her forehead, before fibers of dark, gnarled hair twirled around it and began to squeeze it tightly, crushing the life out of it. "Oh God, oh God no! Sweet merciful God in Heaven NO! The eyebrows!… The… THE EYEBROWS!" She screamed, smashing the mirror.
The other students looked on at her in horror, as Neville feebly stood up and retrieved his weapons. He saw Hermione motion towards him, but he shook his head as he placed one of the pistols against it. He spat out a tooth and a stream of blood as he smiled with what was left of his mouth, and cackled. "Only one bullet left, Emma." Before pulling the trigger. Bits of Neville's gray matter landed on Draco Malfoy, who was currently moping over the fact that he'd been ignored so far and would continue to be so.
Her last hope for mercy currently coated in Neville's brain, Hermione picked up a shard of the broken mirror. With all the contempt she could muster for the demonic eyebrows that were even know strangling the life and character from her, she rammed the glass right into the source and crumpled lifelessly.
"Well," said Ron, examining the reflective make-shift blade in his best friend's skull, "that sucks."
The End