Only One Chance To Kill.
By: Lydia
I raise my wand as I hear a pop and see deatheathers appear.

"Get ready!" Dumbledore yelled as he moved to the front of everyone.

"Ebony don't do anything till you see him…" Harry yelled at me.

I nod and watch as the room filled with flying hex's and curses. I jumped as I heard something hit the floor behind me. It was my brother.

"Eddie!" I yelled looking back at my brother.

"I am fine. I just tripped." He said standing up and pushing me out of the way as a hex came flying by.

"Ebony now!" I heard Harry yell. I looked up to find him on the ground with Voldemort standing over him.

"Avada Kedavra" I yell as everyone in the room seems to go silent. A bright green light shoots out of my wand and hits Voldemort. I see his body hit the floor.

"EBONY RUN!" I hear Dumbledore say.

I take off running out into the hall. And turn to see six deatheaters right behind me. I smile and give a little wave.

I suddenly feel my feet hit the ground. I look up to see a bed with a blonde hair blue eyed boy laying on it. I run over and sit on the side of the bed.

"Draco, I did it." I say as the last Malfoy smiles back at me.

"Now there will be peace in our world." He said looking out the window.

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AN: This is just a bit of what my ff is. I had the idea to write it thanks to my wonderful cousin. Who should be posting her's in a little while. I plan to write more to it once I get time off of working. Hope everyone enjoys it.
-Lydia

Stan Shunpike and the Part Time Job


Stan Shunpike mopped his brow as he sorted mail at the Ministry of Magic. The things a wizard had to do to make some extra galleons! He had recently taken a part time job here. He just wished there wasn’t so much ruddy mail! The Ministry was sending free guides on ‘Elementary Home and Personal Defense’ to all wizarding families. Stan secretly wondered if the Ministry was over-reacting a bit. Sure, there were plenty of stories about an incident in the Department of Mysteries, but no one else was complaining! Besides, wasn’t all this based on something that Potter boy said? Honestly, first the boy was crazy, now everyone was listening to him! He thought the kid was a bit dodgy lying about his name on the Knight Bus a few years ago.

Stan sighed and attached yet another guide to the leg of a post owl. This one was addressed : “To Our Friends at the Weasley Residence”, Stan hoped the Weasleys didn’t mind junk mail. The owl quickly followed one sent off to the Lovegoods. Stan sighed again as he looked at the endless line of owls still before him.

Suddenly he noticed an owl that was not like the others. It flew over to him. It had a letter on it’s leg:

Undeliverable

To: L. Malfoy
From: Your Friend, Lord Voldemort

“What is this?” Stan asked aloud. Then he felt something pressing into his shoulder and turned to look.

“I believe that is mine…” a voice said.

A Weasley Lost, But Not Forgotten.













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AN: OOO My cousin beat me to post... lol... {pokes lydia} Anyways. I had this feeling that Ron's the one that dies in the next book. I don't know why but I do. I don't want him to but it's just a feeling. I put my people into the story and had it play out my idea of what I think might happen. I hope every one likes it.

View From St. Mungo's
By: maggie3990

Madame Pomfrey had worked in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts School for many years. Each day, her somewhat monotonous job went on predictably. She tended to the bumps and scrapes of the students. She visited Hogsmeade to purchase medical necessities for the school, and she flooed Professor Snape to ask him to brew potions for her. Tedium was what she liked; each day her actions were routine, simple, and safe.

But then came the Second War, for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned. The deepest fear of witches and wizards all over Britain became a reality.

A brilliant medical mind like Poppy Pomfrey’s could not go to waste during a war. She was competent and respected, and thus was recruited to help at St. Mungo’s.

Remembering Hogwarts brought serenity to Poppy as she watched the horrors of war strike. She cared for a hundred patients a day, and then attempted to console devastated families if she could not save a loved one. Life was easy and painless when her only responsibilities were overseeing students’ injuries. She wondered how the students fared in her absence.

Attacks on St. Mungo’s came often; Death Eaters wanted to finish the jobs they had started. More than once, Poppy herself had defended a patient. There just weren’t enough Aurors anymore; most were already stowed in beds at the hospital, and the war was still going on.

The terrors, the pain, and the hurt broke her heart more each passing day. And who knew who long it would last?

A/N: With this fic, I wanted to show what the war would be like in the hospital setting, and what it would be like to tend to those who had been attacked in the war. Hope it makes sense, and you enjoyed it. ~Maggie

A Malfoy's Mistake

As I walked to Malfoy Manor on this December morning, I thought to myself, Why am I doing this?
I had lost so much going to the dark side. Friends, family, and the trust of others. There was nothing to gain from becoming one of his followers, and much to be lost. I was told I would gain power. Foolish me believed these lies. I did not gain power, I lost freedom. Every waking moment of my life was now watched by him.

My name is Stacy Malfoy. I have silky blond hair and pale blue eyes. I’m seventeen years old and the youngest Death Eater ever. You may have heard of Draco Malfoy. He’s my cousin. I don’t know what happened to him really. He was actually really sweet before his terrible father poisoned his mind.
I was now at the door. I was about to report the greatest weakness of Albus Dumbledore, the only person who still trusted me. He thought I was a double agent for him, but really I was betraying him and was a double agent for the Dark Lord.
I realized that I had to change that before making the hugest mistake ever.

I disapparated to Hogsmeade and ran off to Hogwarts. By the time I reached the headmaster’s office, I could hardly breathe from sprinting there.
“Professor Dumbledore-”
The curse put on every Death Eater when they joined began to take effect on me. I slowly endured agonizing pain, and died.

The War of Ellen Rosely

Ellen Rosely stood before the ruins of Hogwarts, unable to speak. She couldn't believe it. The war had begun. She had watched Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter all fighting against Voldemort's Death Eaters. She too had helped. She felt compelled to. But now she stood here and looked at the ruin, destruction and death. Yes, even death she saw. She wanted to cry. She wanted to go after Voldemort herself and vindicate her friends' deaths. But how could she? She was no match. Harry Potter himself was barely a match. She just stood there hoping that it had all been a dream, but the reality of it was all too fresh in her mind.

She walked aimlessly around, hoping to find someone she could hold onto. It was tough. It was all so tough. But no one was around that she could find. She could see everyone finding someone, but here she walked with no one.

"Don't get involved," she could hear her mother's words echoing in her mind. But her mother had to realize it meant something to fight in this war. She knew her mother would've done the same.

And then there she was. She had rushed inside the castle from her home and greeted her daughter. Ellen's mother was here.

"You're safe now," she heard her mother whisper when Ellen reached her outstretched arms.

Powerless

Lisbeth Lovegood was the only Squib in her family. The Lovegoods had turned out some fairly outlandish personalities, like Rosemary, who'd blown herself up... or her husband, who was the laughing stock of the sane population because he edited The Quibbler... Luna Lovegood, Lisbeth's cousin, was considered a freak at Hogwarts - but at least she'd been accepted. Lisbeth's Hogwarts letter had never come.


Now, unbearably, the Second War had begun - but Lisbeth could do nothing. She was forced into a world where she couldn't participate; even worse, forced into a war where she could do nothing to help... so she was sitting, hands twisting together in her lap, dreading looking Moody in the single, revolving eye.

"Let's get this straight," he growled. "You've no magical abilities whatsoever, but you want to join... the Order of the Phoenix?"

Lisbeth bit her lip. "I have to do something..." she said.

Moody frowned.

The tears gathered in her eyes. "Arabella Figg is a Squib too!" she cried.

Moody inclined his head, but said; "She's useful because she lives near Potter. You don't?"

She shook her head. She lived near Luna - Luna was the reason she wanted to help the Order; Harry especially.

"Let her join, Professor." A bespectacled boy was standing in the doorway. "We need all the help we can get." He smiled at Lisbeth, who had to smile back; it was kind of him.

She could see why Luna cared so much.

The Family Betrayal

Sam Adelaide was in the middle of his 6th year at Beauxbaxtons and heard of the War between good and evil. Sam decided to go to the Ministry to join the war because his father was a Mudblood and he knew if the dark side won he would have his whole wizard life ruined. Sam talked to the wizard secretary and she said go to Fudge. Sam talked to Fudge and then Fudge said,” Will You join". Sam was hesitant but Sam said,” yes". Sam was reluctant but he knew he could never go back to his house he had betrayed his family because he joined the Dark Side. Sam had been so distraught that he hadn't noticed that Fudge had put Sam under a huge sleeping draught in his coffee. Sam went back to Fudge but turns out Fudge made him sign an iron-clad contract and said to report to He~Who~Must~Not~Be~Named. Sam went to He~Who~Must~Not~Be~Named and he said,"Welcome Sam are you ready".

~The Forgotten Love~

Albus, please, you’re going to your death, I can’t lose you like this.
Dumbledore took in the regal looking woman before him. Her grey hair was hanging loose about her face. Her tired violet pleaded with him, but he knew what had to be done.
“Hestia, it must be done. I’m sorry.” He spoke softly, struggling to hold back the tide of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.
“And so it happens. I lose you, completely. I wont ever see you again, shall I?”
Dumbledore sighed and dropped his gaze. Not for the first time in the last year had he wished he could reverse time.
“Hestia, I’m sorry, for everything that’s happened to you, to us. It was a sacrifice that had to be made.”
Hestia smiled gently, tears beginning to roll down her cheek.
“No regrets Albus, old friend. What’s done is done.” She took his hand and held it firmly. “Is there nothing I can do to change your mind? Surely you know your going to your death?” Try how she might, she could not keep the desperation from her voice.
“To the well organised mind, Hestia, death is but the next great adventure. I told him that once, and know, I will show him. It must be done. Aberforth will look after you. It must be done.” He kissed her hand and enveloped her in a great hug before turning to leave.
“Goodbye Albus.”
Tears falling, she watched him walk away.
“I love you.” she whispered.

A/N just to be clear, Hestia Jones is the main character of this fclet, not Dumbledore. It was kinda hard to convey with the word limit, but I did my best. *shrugs*

A View from the Seperated Child


"After all those years I was seperated from my dad. After all those years of searching, this is what I get. After all those years of searching for my real father, you go and kill him. You know what my anger makes me do? REVENGE," I said to this so called Dark Lord. Voldemort laughed again,"come on now little girl. How can you give kill me when I'm the most feared Lord of all. Look around you. What do you see? Oh yeah you see people in pain and some dead. This is what I do. So go on try and cause me pain, try and kill me." "Wait I'm afraid I can't do that," I replied. If you know how to do telepathy, it sure comes in handy when you need it. Telepathy doesn't get interupted by anyone else but the person who your sending the message to and yourself.

So that's what Roxanne did and Roxanne is me. I sent a message to Harry Potter and it was about the chance Harry could get of killing Voldemort. If I kept on talking Voldemort would be distracted. "See this is why I hate people who are not purebloods. They are not worthy to walk on this world......"Voldemort kept on talking like there was no end. Suddenly there was a flash of green light! Everyone saw as Voldemort fell to the ground with a suprised look. Everyone was cheering except for the Death Eaters. "I would suggest that you guys turn yourselves in to Azkaban or Mr. Potter here will kill you one by one," I said to the Death Eaters as a threat and I cast a spell that surrounded the Death Eaters with tight ropes.

Everyone was celebrating and at the same time they were mourning for the loved ones who died. Harry Potter now was called The Boy who Defeated the Dark Lord and everyone was so happy for him. As for me, well I wished for my dad to come back but nothing would change that. Some endings can become happy yet some can turn to sadness.
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A/N: My main character was Roxanne.

A/N: Okay, I didn't get an answer yet on my question about this but I decided that if I didn't post it now, I wouldn't get a chance so here goes. This ficlet is in first person with really no specific character. It could be pratically anyone, on the Light side mind you. It's basically a made up character with no name. So...umm enjoy!


A Deep Breath


Sitting at a table in Diagon Alley, it’s difficult to realize that there’s a war going on this very second. Innocent people are dying out there, yet if I didn’t know, I wouldn’t be able to tell by all the jovial faces around me. Little children run around oblivious to everything, trying to evade their parents’ suffocating grasps. Even the older children are naïve enough to think nothing’s wrong. They’re busy buying their Hogwarts supplies and chatting with their friends. Nope, they don’t notice a thing.

I notice things, though. I have to. It’s my job and the only reason I’m sitting here. I notice the hushed whispers the adults make to each other when their children are distracted, and their fake smiles when they’re not. I notice the way some people avoid others, like they’re trying to avoid a plague. And then there’s the people who try and act like nothing’s going on, that our world isn’t crumbling from the inside out.

I notice the ones attempting to be inconspicuous. They try to blend in with the crowd but they can’t evade my eyes, for they have been trained to see these things. These are the ones people have to watch out for.

The air pulsates with tension. Everyone can feel it. It’s like the Wizarding World has taken a deep breath and hasn’t released it yet. We’re all waiting: waiting for something to happen and waiting for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to attack once more. For me…waiting is the worst part.

Winning Entry!



The Secret Life of Voldemort: A Roommate’s Perspective

In the Wizarding World, a terrible battle between Good and Evil is destroying the foundations of age-old magic and claiming the lives of the brave and innocent, Magic and Muggle alike. Only one person remains oblivious to this epic war – a young wizard who never learned of his magical heritage. Here, now, are his very words…


Blog_Entry#27
Ten Things I Hate About My Roommate Morty...

1. He’s had way too much Pinky and The Brain. He’s always going on about world domination. Good lord.

2. He. Doesn’t. Shower. I’m almost sure he’s shoved dead fish under his armpits and wades in the London sewerage.

3. He giggles when people die on TV. What an evil person.

4. He keeps asking about my limp. And my parents. When’s he going to understand – it’s a sensitive subject!!

5. He stole my glasses and christened them Harry.

6. Bit creepy, this Morty – wears high-collared dresses and points his stick at me, muttering “Crucify” whenever I walk into the room. Jerk.

7. I think he’s planning to murder someone. O.o

8. I hate all his friends. They drink my tea and mess up my couch.

9. Apparently, he’s got slits for a nose because a possum bit the real one off. Liar. There are no possums in London. Looks more like a bus ran over his head, if you ask me.

10. And finally, he never does his share of cleaning, and he NEVER buys the toilet paper.

God save us all from this man.

----



N.B. Ficlet subject is the roommate's view, of course. As Aingil an Spéir said, it's a challenge to make that clear in 250 words, but I hope what I wrote was good enough. Thank you for reading!

Autolycus Latimer. Fritjov's Fate.

Since the war has started it’s been pandemonium for all. Secretive as the Wizarding World traditionally is, muggle areas are all dead ends. Shops won’t open, and others will have some kind of protective spells the owners blindly trust on. The only occupation that seemed not to have any new difficulties is that of thief.

Indeed, jumpy witches perform silent screams and wizards’re suddenly not that brave in case the pickpocket results to be a Death Eater by deadly chance. Could say it helps the business, unless you happen to mug a Death Eater.

It brought certain gloom, the way he held the wand. The dark area around the eyes, the wicked smirk; a shadowy scruffiness blatantly displayed on the otherwise rich-looking guy. The piercing pain, the worse you could have ever imagined – and that coming from a person who sure went though some stuff himself, your humble servant. In my defense, how should I know? The boy was younger than my age.

“D’you feel hate?” he asked me, not failing to call me some names like filth blood or worthless, shame, disgrace. He praised himself on his talent, on his luck to have been taught so well. “My kind father taught me how to desire pain in others to achieve my best potential,” said the smaller and skinny, even sick looking guy. “ ‘Only needed to hate him,” he finished.

He pointed his wand at me. Next was blank. Can you believe it? What a stupid way to die.


ooc: Autolycus was the son of Chione and Hermes, and the grandfather of Odysseus; was renowned for his wiliness and his cleverness as a thief. Latimer is Ancient English for "Interpreter." Together reads the Interpreter of Autolycus.

Without a Window

Ficlet for the Common Witch/Wizard Competition

Written by Shan aka padfoot_88



Confusion reigned the atmosphere of Hogwarts. What had been the calm, peaceful energy of the end of exams quickly turned into every witch and wizards nightmare.

Voldemort had struck and the battle had begun.

Bright jets of light were being shot in every direction, the spells contained within causing harm to their target or rebounding off trees and the castle walls, disintegrating into thin air. The air was filled with the screams of children running for safety, of terror as the injured feared for their lives, and of pain as death claimed the lives of the innocent. It was chaos.

Most of the professors were outside fighting the Death Eaters, and Order members were beginning to show up, heading straight into battle on their arrival. The only students left were the members of the DA, fighting bravely against the enemy and putting all of the skills Harry taught them into practice.

Through all this, Sybill Trelawney sat in her office watching it all unfold beneath her, and yet there was no window in sight. The images her mind was seeing reflected exactly that of which was occurring a few hundred feet below her in the Hogwarts grounds.

Rigid in her chair and mouth hanging slack, Sybill was forced by her own powers to view the horrible scenes of war, unable to break free no matter what she tried. The trance held her tight, making sure she saw it all, knew it all, felt it all.

And feel it she did.

This challenge is closed to new submissions. Please vote for your favorite submission.

Congratulations to Iphigeneia! Her submission, The Secret Life of Voldemort: A Roommate’s Perspective, earned the most votes, making it the members' favorite ficlet in this category!

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