HP, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Fourth Year, Deaths

Takes place before the first task in November of Fourth Year.

To All Those…

Draco’s spell hit him from the back, and not a word against him was said. Though murmurs of “good show” were had throughout the hall.
Through long practice with pain from his own childhood, Harry ignored his broken collar bone from the spell that narrowly missed his spine. Noticing that even Madam Pomphrey was ignoring her Oath as a Healer to come to his aid. And, using his other hand, he calmly wiped his mouth before standing up. Grabbing the steak knife in his hand instead of his wand he looked disdainfully around him. He noticed Malfoy still stood with wand pointed at him, a sneer on his lips at the fact that Harry refused to raise his own against him.
Instead, he stood there and purposely used the hand with the knife to place his now useless left hand on the table, palm up. Then, with the sharp blade, make a cut across the palm to draw blood. Dumbledore frowned but everyone else joined Malfoy in his sneer at The-Boy-Who-Lied as he put down the knife and pinched dops of the blood between his fingers before speaking. “To all those who currently seek to end my line, to all those who seek to profit from me, and to all those in the UK and Europe – no matter their blood or race – who have at one time or another, past or present, sought to harm me, I call on the Blood Debt Owed to me and mine to seek Justice. And may Justice be truly blind and only touch those I have named so that they may too be harmed by that which they have sought in recompense. I seal this Call for Debts Owed to me and mine with my blood,” here he dropped the blood on the floor, “And may my call be answered.”

A pull of power built up and everyone held their breaths in the Great Hall before the Power seemed to exhale outwards through the castle. And from there to the lands beyond. Leaving behind chaos in its wake as the eldest on staff from Dumbledore to Filch all seemed to shrivel up, then drop where they were.
The half-breeds, Flitwick, Hagrid, and Olympe, all grabbed their hearts and passed out as the incompatibleness of their mixed blood came to be and they bled out through their orifices.
McGonagall was changed into her tabby form and tossed out of the castle to the Scottish wharves and no longer allowed to change back to her human form. Thus, forced to spend what little was left of her life fighting for every scrap she could get from cats that had not been coddled as she had been.
Crouch Jr. was stripped of the ability to take Polyjuice and died in agony in a half-transformed state, while Sr. was given visions of all those he had illegally sent to prison for his own gain.

Of those adults left, not only in the castle but in the UK and Europe, they all fell into three camps. One was poisoned by the that which they coveted. Another, such as the healers and their Guild, were racked with that they ignored and refused to touch let as well heal. And thus, ignoring their Oaths. And the rest died of long painful wounds. Many from that returned to them from the ones they had inflicted on others they considered “lesser.”

Of the “children,” They, too, fell into two camps. One, like the last camp of adults, died horrifically of wounds received back from what they had inflicted on others. And the others spent the rest of their lives without any spark in their lives or lines.

Of the races other than human, the goblins fell to poisoned gold and precious metals. Dying in their deep caverns.
The centaurs of the Forbidden Forest found that no matter what they ate from the sudden bounty before them, it all tasted like ashes and never filled the bellies.
The Acromantula’s were forced to turn on each other till nothing was left. And with both gone along with the humans, the forest was able to replenish itself of the true magical residence who had been given Sanctuary in the first place.

Hogwarts fell into stasis with the elves going to Underhill to finally live with their kin till a new generation could reclaim the land. Taking Harry with them.
While Diagon and all the areas like them in the UK and Europe, were reclaimed by their mundane counterparts. All unknowing.

Riddle and his soul were also lost in the casting of Judgement, so in the end, the Prophecy came true. Just not how a certain meddling old man fought so hard to make it so.

Harry’s old family was picked up on all the now unhidden charges that came suddenly to light and spent the rest of their lives in prison as fodder for the hierarchy. And those who had aided them in their deeds had their own lives destroyed as well and all ended up leaving the area. Leaving a cursed section of Little Whinging behind never to be resided in again.

Fini.