Plot: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley had been missing for two months. One by one, they came back, each proclaiming that they won 'the game'. When a strange noise plays, and with Hogwarts locked down. Everyone is trapped inside these walls with four madness driven murderers.

Setting: Hogwarts; Fourth Year.

Pairings: None so far.

Rating: M

Warning: Major Character Death, Graphic Violence, Torture, Mutilation, Mind Break, more to add as the story goes on.

It had been two months. Two months since the Golden Trio and the Slytherin Prince had gone missing. The air was gloomy, everyone wondering what had happened, or if the four were dead.

It was breakfast, people sluggishly eating in their grief. The Weasley's sitting huddled together, having lost three important people to them.

The Slytherin's faring no better, seeing as Draco, a fairly big deal in the status quo for the house was gone. It disrupted everything for them, and no one quite knew what to do about it.

It was like that for a few minutes still, even the professors sluggish. McGonagall had kept a flask in her hands these last few days, and had slowly began to drift away from her classes. Snape had stopped giving out so many detentions, choosing to instead just not care if students get hurt.

Dumbledore though, was a wreck. With the Ministry breathing down his neck, he had been told Hogwarts would be shut down next week if those students hadn't been found by today.

By the looks of it, they weren't coming back.

So, slowly, he stood, and prepared to make the announcement as everyone looked up.

Just then, a battered and bloody form burst through the doors.

"...I...I did it, cor blimey I did it! I won the game!" The form had shaggy hair, matted by blood, a lithe thin form, and a pair of broken glasses. From his voice, it was most certainly Harry. He was wearing a torn uniform, no robes in sight. His pants ripped to his thighs, and his shirt in tatters. In his hands was an axe, rusty, and dripping blood as he dragged it in.

Everyone stared with wide eyes as the boy-who-lived dropped to his knees and began to laugh maniacally.

"I did it! I won! I beat them!" He broke down into tears, his head in his hands as the axe fell by his side.

McGonagall rushed over in an instant, afraid his was bleeding to death and going through hysteria.

But she found no wounds.

"This isn't my blood professor." Harry giggled and wiped the tears from his eyes.

Just then, a wall popped open near the Hufflepuff table, prompting the ones near it to move away.

A ragged, blonde boy crawled out, panting as he dragged his broken leg behind him.

"Oh fuck, oh shit...wait? Did I win? Oh god, I won! I won the game!" It was now confirmed this guy was Draco, as he sat up and wiped the tears of pain from his eyes.

McGonagall, Harry and everyone else turned their heads to him.

"No. No fucking way. I won the game, you should be dead! I came out of there first!" Harry started shouting, and the two locked eyes.

"Potter are you lying again? Because clearly, I won. I had more points than you, the blood traitor and the mudblood!"

"No fucking way Malfoy! The voice said who ever was here first won! And I'm here first! You should be dead!"

As the argue began to worsen, a scream began to get louder. A compartment opened near the Ravenclaw table and people immediately began to move out the way.

A moment later, a half naked girl fell on the table, breaking dishes in her wake.

She sat up, in a daze, before shaking his head quickly, flinging razor blades that had been stuck in her curly hair.

"Wait...I...Did I win? Did I win the game?" She spoke, moving her hair away from her eyes with a dazed smile.

"No." Both Harry and Draco sighed.

"Fuck." Hermione said. She angrily pulled the rest of the razor blades from her ruined hair. "What the hells going on? I was supposed to win! I was the smartest. Why aren't either of you dead!"

"That's what we're trying to figure out smartass! I'm supposed to win because I was here FIRST."

"I'm supposed to win because I had the most points!"

"Both of you are utter idiots! I was the smartest! I deserved to win! It's common logic that the smartest wins!"

Another angry argument over 'who gets to win' broke out. As everyone began to panic. What game were they talking about? Did they mean it when they said the others should be dead?

The Weasley's all thought something; 'Was Ron dead if the other three lived?' Speak of the devil and he shall come.

The floor popped open near the middle of the hall, and at this point people were about to lose it. They could already see it coming. The words about to come from Ron's mouth.

"D-did I win?"

"NO HEADASS!" The three earlier people screamed at once. They resumed fighting, while Ron shifted awkwardly.

"...I...I must inform the Ministry at once! You four will be going to the infirmary to treat your injuries. You will remain there unless deemed otherwise." Dumbledore stood, silencing all whispers and loud arguments.

The teachers led all students except for the four, and the headmaster, as well as Madame Pompfrey took the now found children to the infirmary.

"Poppy, can you handle this on your own? I must inform the Ministry at once. If not, you may summon Professor Snape to assist you."

"Of course I can handle this Albus! But I'm not sure about their mental issues, who knows what went down wherever they were? There's something...off with them Albus," Poppy took a deep breath, before continuing. "Like they're not quite there."

"I know, but we'll get them help, for the greater good. Okay Poppy? I'll do my best to get them as much help as possible." Albus knew this day was going to be a tiring one. Not long, but tiring.

"I know you will Albus, I know you will." The headmaster nodded and headed off.

Poppy tended to the children in her care, noticing stranger and stranger things. Why did Harry have sharpened teeth? Why was Draco's leg bent so unnaturally and yet he seemed uncaring about it? Why did Hermione have have a multitude of razors in her hair? Why was Ron twitching every once in a while?

Poppy had spent many, many years as a medic. She'd served in two wars, because she was fairly old mind you, the muggles second world war, and the wizarding Britains second war. She'd known what medical bait was. Captured from an ally line and used as bait for that side. These children were medical bait, as their injuries made no sense. Something big was about to go down. And it would not be very pretty.

She went to the floo, ready to tell Albus her thoughts.

Harry rose up from his bed, eyes glossy and wide. He picked up a stray scalpel, before sneaking up behind the old medic. She didn't even see it coming.

The old lady screamed, but the silencing charms on the whole office quieted her. No one outside suspected a thing as her throat was ripped violently open. Torn to shreds.

Poppy gurgled frantically as Harry stood beside her, eyes hollow and empty, just staring as her vision started to fade. She almost thought she could see a faint smile on his lips.

Harry stared at the body before him. The blood was still warm, so he might as well partake in a free meal.

He knew the dangers of this meal, and knee what to avoid.

In a few minutes, he was chowing down, warm fresh blood sliding down his throat. Flesh tore between his teeth, chewing for minutes before following the blood. Eventually he felt full, and cleaned himself of the blood.

Harry carried himself to the bed he had been set. And all of the memories of this vanished. Gone. Not even Dumbledorr could find proof he'd done anything.

He slept peacefully with a full belly.

Poppy Pompfrey was not the first victim, and would not be the last.