Scenario # 3:
It is the Zombie Apocalypse.
Survival of the Fittest
Draco Malfoy was sitting in the Great Hall minding his own business—okay, so maybe he was torturing a Hufflepuff first year by the name of Genus—but what he was doing was irrelevant, so for the sake of the narrative, (and my career as an author) he was doing nothing out of the ordinary to warrant such a reaction from the universe. All of a sudden a magic bean fell from the ceiling of the Great Hall and hit him squarely on the head.
Draco didn't have a sudden understanding of gravity, such over thinking was up to the Ravenclaw House, not Slytherin. Instead it was his fellow bully, Crabbe, whom had daunted upon a sudden revelation.
"ZOMBIES!" He cried, jumping up from his seat, running in the direction of the entrance of the Great Hall.
"Crabbe, you bumbling moron, get back here. There are no such things as -"
"ZOMBIES!" Goyle, Draco's other set of muscles finished for him, utter terror written across his otherwise blank face. He was too slow to actually run, but if he could have he would have fled as fast as humanly possible. As it was, Draco caught him by the shirt collar before he was even half way up and shoved him back into his seat.
"I swear you two make me look bad. We're in the middle of something here; get your head in the game."
The poor little first year looked downright terrified. His puppy brown eyes were begging for mercy. Draco wasn't about to give it to him, the mercy that was. Draco sneered at the kid as his eyes grew wider, fear spreading like wildfire across his face. Goyle was still trembling beside the boy.
"Z-zombie," the boy whispered.
Draco laughed. "Puh-lease. Do I look anywhere near as stupid as my minions? You can't scare me the same way you managed to scare Crabbe and Goyle."
The little boy shook his head and whispered again, this time more frantically, arm pointed behind Draco. "Zombie."
Draco didn't even turn around. "You're going to wish I was a brainless zombie. You'd be a lot safer that way. As it is," Draco proceeded to roll up the sleeve of his robe. "I'm a Death Eater, I've got more brains than a zombie, and I'm six times as dangerous, guaranteed. Now hand over all of your chocolate frogs…"
The boy emptied his pockets willingly and Draco felt as if he had scored big time. There were over thirty chocolate frogs sitting on the Slytherin table by the time the boy had run toward the teacher's table.
"What a wimp," Draco muttered, scooping his prize into his pockets.
"Hnnghh," replied Goyle.
"Merlin, can't you even form words now? At least try to act like you possess a brain. That's all I really ask," Draco ranted, tearing open the last candy left on the table.
"Grrrhhnniii!"
"And really, toothpaste is a virtue. More so than patients. Get some, okay? That's disgusting."
"Huuuhhhraahhh!" It was when Goyle reached his green-ish gray, decomposing hand across Draco's arm to slap the chocolate frog on the ground that Draco realized that Goyle was either deathly ill or newly raised from the dead. Goyle wasn't Goyle.
He was a –
"ZOMBIE!" Draco cried, flinging the wrapper, card and remaining chocolate frog at what he had assumed was his friend only moments before. "ZOMBIEEEE!"
He dove under the table and crawled on his hands and knees to the end furthest from his attacker. He then took a minute to breathe and reflect upon his surroundings. There were kids everywhere under the tables, on top of the tables, but more than the kids, there were half dead zombies EVERYWHERE.
He scanned the room continuously thinking, "Where is Potter when you need him?"
Harry, as it was, was nowhere to be found and the zombies just kept piling into the Great Hall. Draco reached into his robes and dumped half of the stolen chocolate frogs on the floor. He found his wand and pulled it out.
Without moving out from underneath the table Draco shouted, "STUPIFY!" And gulped in fear when nothing happened.
The zombies should have stopped moving once the red beam hit them, but it didn't work. Next he tried, "Petrificus Totalus, Impedimenta,Incarcerous, AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Nothing was working. Magic had no effect what so ever on the onslaught of zombies. His best bet of survival would be escape, but he was too far from the door and it was where the zombies were coming in from. If he were to survive he would need to escape through the teacher's door.
Judging by the distance uncovered by tables, he'd never make it. He really was better off curling into a ball and crying under the table as he was currently doing. Maybe they would simply assume he was worthless. Maybe they'd pass over him. What was the charm to turn himself invisible?
Suddenly he remembered and muttered it, watching his extremities vanish. Hopefully they wouldn't see him now. As long as he could hold back the loudest sobs and squeals, he should be safe. It was probably shortly after casting himself invisible that Draco passed out…