There is a competition on MuggleNet, where you have to write the opening chapter of Book 7.
Seems simple enough... but it has to be under 1000 words.

Here's my entry. It might lead to a long fan fiction of Book 7, depending on how much feedback I receive.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.


Harry Potter and the Search for a Soul

Chapter 1: Realisation, Retaliation and Retribution

On the outskirts of a little village, a loud crack resonated through the dark, misty trees. Staggering blindly through the overgrown grass, a figure clad in a long, black robe, tripped over an exposed tree root and fell on all fours. A string of angry swear words sliced through the otherwise silent air. The boy, for it was a boy’s voice that had cursed, struggled to release his foot, trying to pull it loose. Nevertheless, the root remained sturdy, and with a frustrated cry, the boy turned around and grabbed his shoe, tugging his laces free. When he was finally detached, he sat on the wet grass and took a gasping breath, hugging his legs close to his chest.

There he stayed, this dark, shadow of a man, his breathing deep, a sliver of moonlight illuminating his white-blond hair.

A few minutes later, with a pop, a second black clad person appeared out of thin air. This figure turned around on the spot, hurriedly squinting through the greasy black curtains of hair that surrounded his sallow face, and into the night.

‘DRACO?’ he yelled out, panting rapidly. Appearing to be unsatisfied with the lack of response, he raised his right hand, hurriedly said, ‘Lumos,’ and a bright light erupted from the tip of what appeared to be a magic wand. ‘Draco!’ There was a note of urgency in his voice, as though finding this person called Draco was of extreme importance. ‘Draco, where are you? Are you here?’

‘Yes, Professor Snape,’ came the weak reply from the boy. His voice sounded strangled and strained, as though he found it hard to speak.

Frowning, Severus Snape lifted his glowing wand high, creating an ethereal glow in the misty forest, still searching for the boy. He jerkily turned again when a moment later the sound of someone throwing up echoed through the trees. Striding quickly in the direction of the sounds and passing half a dozen trees, he finally saw the boy, leaning against a study trunk and wiping his mouth with a shaky hand.

‘Draco, we have to decide what-’ he started quickly, but when the boy looked up at him, his naturally pale face now completely drained of colour, the words seemed to die in his throat. Draco’s eyes were wide, his cheeks glistening with tears.

‘What have you done?’ Draco asked exasperatedly, staring at Severus Snape.
Snape looked as though he had been slapped. He took a step backwards, his face unreadable.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked slowly.

Draco’s cheeks began to flush; light pink replacing the colourless tone his face had been just moments ago. ‘You killed him!’ he cried. ‘You just... how could you? He was my... he was my only-’ and just as suddenly as Draco’s outburst had been, he looked as though he had thought better of it, and stopped. He broke eye contact with Snape and bowed his head, staring, apparently at the grass by his right foot.

Snape quickly stole a glance at his watch and then took two steps forward, so that he was inches away from Draco. He bent his head forward and tried to catch Draco’s eye. ‘He was your what?’ He appeared to be trying to keep his voice steady, struggling to remain patient and calm. Draco shook his head, refusing to look at him. ‘Draco... tell me.’ Snape said in a stern voice, apparently deciding that the understanding method was not working. ‘He was your what?’

Draco whipped his head up to face Snape, his face contorted with rage. ‘HE WAS MY LAST CHANCE!’ he yelled, forcing the man backwards with his ferocity and anger. Tears started flowing freely from his eyes again, though Draco did not seem to care, as he did nothing to hide them. ‘He was my last chance to get out of this alive, and you killed him!’ His voice, again, was strangled. He gasped and gulped, and his shoulders shuddered, as though an enormous weight had suddenly been placed upon them.

Snape flinched, and jerkily dug his left hand inside his pocket. ‘Draco, I didn’t have a choice.’ He again looked at his watch, giving the impression of impatience.

‘Of course you did!’ Draco said exasperatedly, his hands gesturing animatedly in front of him. ‘You could have chosen not to kill him!’

‘I told you,’ Snape replied silkily. ‘I made the Unbreakable Vow with your mother; did you want me to die?’

‘YES!’ Draco snarled savagely, anger flaring in his light grey eyes.

Snape’s eyes flew open wide in apparent disbelief.

Draco spluttered slightly, looking as though he had just realised what he had said. ‘No... I mean...’ he again struggled to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘I don’t- I don’t want anyone to die.’ He bowed his head again.

There was silence. The light that was still emanating from Snape’s wand flickered slightly. Snape appeared to contemplate Draco for a moment, before speaking in a soft voice.

‘Not even Potter? Weasley? Granger?’

Draco paused, and seemed to ponder the question for a moment, before letting out a dry sob. ‘No,’ he replied weakly. ‘No one.’

Snape drew himself up to his full height, looked down his hooked nose at the boy in front of him and sighed. He flicked his wand, and the soft glow vanished, darkness swallowing the two.

From the gloom, came the low, cold, voice of the former Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. ‘Very well, then. I know what I must do.’

A jet of red light pierced the darkness and struck Draco Malfoy in the chest. He fell backwards, eyes wide with shock, onto the wet, hard ground.

Comments?

07/07/07 = Book 7 - wouldn't that be COOL?! It's a Saturday and everything.

Peace,
Rotae