Also, I honestly thought you were the Dark Lord, muffled beneath the turban.

I also b have to say this ending is hillarious. The barely a character non character is the only student to make it to the end. Hahahaha.

Sig worthy.

Somebody had to!

I have to ask: were the lengthy write-ups distracting, helpful, interesting, boring, skip-able, or tolerable?

I am wondering how to approach this in the future.

I liked them.

I mainly read them to see where my character popped in because I am such a whack job. Was pleased I was in most write ups.

It was something along the lines of kill me, and let the other two win. I was curious whether you'd deem it a trap. lol.

The write-ups were fine to read. I found I actually got less info out of re-reading, but obsessing over write-up information isn't always up my alley anyway.

Ahh. I probably would've.

Wait. It's taken me the day to process this (I never said I was good at this! ) and now I have questions.

How did I die?
If I hadn't died at night, would Gir have stayed Neutral leaving 1 mafia winner and 2 neutral winners?
Could I have been a contender if I'd pushed harder to get Neutrals to side with me? Damn.

I said earlier I could not win with the mafia. I was a town friendly neutral.

I could have won with the mafia. But I preferred to be deemed town friendly which is why I threw DBauers under the bus. My apologies DB, hope that doesn't mean you won't be playing with us more often. Glad to see you around.

That will be answered when I post roles. (or now: zyxba)

Girathon was Neutral / Town until the serial killer died. He was town by the last phase. It would have been 1 Town, 1 neutral, 1 Mafia, so a lynch vote would have decided it--essentially whoever Silver Lantern chose.

Yes.

I know, right?

My neutrals always go town friendly. In the future, I might create a distinct dichotomy where neutrals are either town friendly + mafia unfriendly v. mafia friendly + town unfriendly. OR make it a trichotomy with an additional everyone unfriendly.

I was Draco, a tracker and vig

Final Chapter: Dumbledore’s Office

“You must have had quite the shock,” Professor Dumbledore told Harry. Ebony had already been taken to Madame Pomfrey’s office. She was probably okay. She said the word “swoon” and fell over with a smile after Quirrell had collapsed into a blabbering idiot. He was in Saint Mungos.

They were sitting awkwardly in Dumbledore’s office, waiting for Sirius. Harry was not in trouble – hopefully – but he still felt as if he had been caught doing something that he should not have been doing, which was technically true.

“Professor,” Harry hazard, “Where was it?” Harry knew Dumbledore was actually quite forthcoming if one only asked, based on conversations he had overheard between Sirius and Dumbledore in the past.

“Where was what?” Dumbledore inquired smugly.

“I’m not sure what. And it doesn’t matter, does it? Something was set up to be protected in Gringotts, and something was set up to be protected here in Hogwarts. Sirius called it ‘the muggle shell game,’ so I guess there was a third location. Doesn’t really matter where, does it? Because it wasn’t there either– “

“Nicolas Flamel’s London flat was the third location,” Dumbledore offered, clearly delighted in a subdued way.

“Oh. The alchemist? Anyway, it never in any of the locations because that is not the point of a muggle shell game is it? Someone places the ball under a cup and then starts mixing the three cups around, quickly palming the ball. The guesser tries to figure out which of the three it’s under, but it is not under any of them—it’s in the guy’s hand.”

“Well said. And did Sirius let that slip?” Dumbledore inquired politely.

“No. Well—at Hagrid’s hut, he said that someone saw through the muggle shell game. And then the Weasleys at the Gryffindor table were actually playing the muggle shell game… but it makes sense. Hide it in one of three places, but really keep it in your hand.”

Dumbldore chuckled a bit to himself. “You are certainly Sirius’ child as much as the Potters, Harry. That is a complement, you should know. I was worried when…but nevermind that.” Dumbledore pulled out some rock from his pocket, as if in acknowledgement and considered the thing a moment. “When I asked for Sirius’ assistance, I told him that the Sorcerer’s Stone was going to be put in Gringotts for a while, but I was going to bring it to Hogwarts for safe-keeping. You see, it is said that Gringotts is probably the safest place for anything aside from Hogwarts itself. The implication is that wherever I am, a dark wizard would not dare show himself. But Sirius pointed out that the safest place wasn’t necessarily Hogwarts. It was on my own person.”

Harry nodded.

“And so we set up a shell-game, as Sirius called it.” Dumbledore stashed the stone again, and gazed at Harry over half-rim spectacles.

Harry had been avoiding it, but finally asked, “Sir, what was that thing? The extra face in Professor Quirrell’s head?”

Dumbledore frowned slightly, and leaned back in his chair. “Something that I thought was gone,” he said flatly, “but as it turns out, I was wrong. If you don’t mind me saying, I am rather brilliant, so errors in my reasoning happen rarely, yet when they do occur... As it also turns out, Sirius was right, which happens far too often.”

He leaned over toward Harry again, “As you know, Sirius is quite paranoid. A good trait for an Auror. So when he is right, it is indeed bad news. It was, I suspect, the one who calls himself Lord Voldemort.”

“The Dark Lord!” Harry exclaimed, startled.

Dumbledore frowned again. “I would not call him that, Harry. I suspect you learned it offhand from your Slytherin classmates. Be wary of them, as you are the son of a famed Auror. No, don’t call him the Dark Lord. Also do not call him ’You–know-who.’ Go ahead and use his name, Voldemort.”

“V-v-voldemort,” Harry squeaked out determinedly, voice a little higher than usual.

“Yes. This is not something I wish to be shared, but you should know whom you saw tonight—and whom you defeated. It was no less than the same wizard that put both Sirius Black and Hagrid in Madam Pomfrey’s care, and that is no easy task.”

Harry grew quiet, considering, a picture of Draco’s face coming to mind. “I don’t think I want the others to know about this.”

Dumbledore nodded sagely. “How you managed to defeat one of the greatest and most powerful dark wizards of our time is something of a conundrum, but I think we can guess. When you saw the face on Professor Quirrell, what did you think?”

Harry considered it for a few moments. “I thought it was wrong, sir. It felt wrong. At first I was horrified, but then I thought that it was something like an injury. The scalp around the face was red and cracked.”

Dumbledore visibly relaxed. “So what did you do?”

“I healed it.” Harry said simply. “Vulnera Sanentur, a spell I saw Madame Pomfrey use several times on sever wounds.” Harry reddened. “I promised I wouldn’t try it without further study, but I had been practicing the wand gestures and pronunciation- “

“I think we can excuse your use of such an advance spell, though I would not try it again without Madame Pomfrey’s express permission. It can be dangerous for such an inexperienced wizard to use.”

Harry nodded.

Dumbledore pulled out a quill and began writing a letter, but continued talking. “How ironic this must be for Voldemort! He was, I do not doubt, warded against many different counter-jinxs, curses, and charms of every sort. Such spells are often placed into the robes of Aurors and dark wizards alike. Also, he had an incredible advantage with two wary minds filled with incredible magical potency! But how could he have foreseen that someone would try to heal him! I’m glad to say that you took him by surprise, Harry.” Finished with the letter, he held it up, and considered it a moment.

“What is that, sir?”

“It’s a letter to Madam Pomfrey, instructing her that you are to receive healing instruction starting next year. It will be additional work, and you will need to do this on top of all your other studies.”

Harry beamed, and nodded excitedly. “Thank you!”

“Hopefully, this will keep you inside your dorms at night and you will spend less time wondering the halls.” Dumbledore added, more to himself than Harry, though added with a touch of reprove. Harry blinked innocently—he could not sleep except for a few hours, maybe four at most, each night. This was not a good discussion to have with Dumbledore.

Instead, Harry nodded absently, then sat there in silence for a few moments. A knock on the door signaled Sirius’ arrival. Sirius stepped in while giving Harry a look of mingled pride and scrutiny, leaving Harry to believe that he was in trouble no matter what but managed to please Sirius anyway. Harry rose to leave.

“Harry, before you go, what did you originally see in the mirror that prompted you to show it to Miss Ravenway?” Dumbledore’s voice was a little too casual.

Harry made his face completely neutral before turning back to face Dumbledore. The lie came easily, “I saw my parents, sir. I was with them.” He then turned, and slowly made his way back to the Slytherin dorms as he pondered things that he found disquieting.