100 Ways to Kill a Weasley

While on his nightly perimeter patrol, Severus Snape stood in the moon-cast shadows of trees near Albus Dumbledore’s tomb. His black eyes glinted greedily at the young woman screaming her lover’s name from the shore.



Years spent as a death eater taught him the dying art of subtlety, but as he studied her body an overpowering obsession overtook him once more. He’d moved mountains for Lily Evans and ultimately she rejected his love, but things were different now. This time Voldemort couldn’t distract him and, upon Weasley’s untimely demise, no significant other existed to steal away the object of his desire. This time he’d get it right.



**********



“See, it’s not so bad, Mione.” Ron said gently, placing an arm around Hermione.



“I’m still a little nervous, though.” Hermione murmured hesitantly.



“As long as I’m here, love, I’ll never let anything bad happen to you. You know that, right?”



“Of course I do, Ron.” She smiled. “I’ve just never been keen on heights.”



For their first year anniversary, Ron rented a flying carpet and took Hermione on a breathtaking midnight tour of Hogwarts. They lazily twirled up the castle’s spires, and swept just above the tree tops of the Forbidden Forrest. Ron wanted to make this night their most memorable yet; he even purchased an engagement ring for the occasion.



Nothing could stop him from spending the rest of his life with Hermione, and he wanted the moment to be perfect when he asked for her hand in marriage. He even purchased new robes and bought expensive cologne to spruce up his image.



The shopkeeper claimed one of the ingredients in the exotic cologne was a powerful aphrodisiac, and Ron knew he needed all the help he could get if he wanted Hermione as his wife.



Taking no chance at rejection, he splashed on a good amount of cologne and darned dapper new robes before gliding through Hermione’s open window and sweeping her off into the night.



After the fall of Voldemort, Hermione insisted on going back to Hogwarts and graduating properly. Ron became an apprentice to a successful and at times eccentric Auror, Gawain Robards. The work earned him good pay and gave him an extraordinary sense of accomplishment. Still, Ron needed to plan for the future.



In a few months, Hermione would graduate from Hogwarts and Ron would work to support himself and Hermione while she attended classes at a prestigious university. The pieces were all falling into place. If only she’d say yes.



“Summissus.” Ron spoke while tapping his wand to the carpet. Gradually the carpet began to descend, fluttering elegantly in the breeze.



“There’s been, uh, something I’ve been, uh, meaning to ask you, Hermione.” Ron said, fumbling over his words. The stars that lit up the night sky glittered spectacularly in reflection as the carpet sailed lazily over Hogwarts lake.



Hermione knew what to expect. She’d been hoping for this moment for months. Sparkling amber eyes met deep blue ones, and each stared breathlessly at the other.



“Hermione?” Ron spoke carefully.



“Yes, Ron?” Hermione said in nearly a whisper.



“Will you . . .”



A deafening roar overpowered Ron’s quavering voice, and ended just as quickly as it began.



Hermione quickly delved into her pockets to retrieve a wand, but found nothing but lint and scraps of parchment. She’d left her wand on the night stand just before climbing into bed, which was also before Ron whisked her away for a moon-lit carpet ride. Oh, how could she be so stupid as to forget something so important?



Ron gulped, turning to face Hermione who sat fumbling through her pockets. As he opened his mouth to speak, a large, slimy tentacle reached up from the shimmering blackness and tore Ron from the carpet in a nimble, silent maneuver.



Only the sound of Ron’s body splashing into the lake alerted Hermione to the rapidly escalating severity of the situation.



“Ron! RON!” She shrieked, clutching the folds of carpet for stability. “ANSWER ME!”



“RON!”



As soon as the inky blackness of the lake disappeared from beneath the magic carpet, Hermione leapt onto the shore of the lake. Waves oscillated vigorously, but not a single sound emerged from the waters. Whatever took Ron wasn’t planning on giving him back.



Hermione stood wading thigh-deep and screaming like a mad woman. Even her cries for help failed to wake anyone who could help. Her mind raced through scenarios and possibilities, but without a wand all options proved futile.



Shrieking until hoarse, Hermione kept telling herself that this couldn’t possibly be happening, not to her, not after all they’d been through.



“ANSWER ME!” She sobbed, her knees giving way under stress.



“RON!”



**********



Severus Snape stood astonished, his sallow hand rested on the white marble tomb of Hogwarts’ former Headmaster and the other clutched his wand defensively. Black eyes reflected moonlight from behind a curtain of limp, black hair. His gaze narrowed on Hermione.



Oh to have loved and lost. Welcome to the coven, Miss Granger.



Snape couldn’t have planned Ron’s death any better himself, and he didn’t even need to lift a finger.



Even muggle-born first years knew better than to wear cologne laced with the ingredient Amor Coleoidea near sea creatures. It was part of Snape’s own first lecture while introducing new herds of imbeciles to the school. Trace amounts of Amor Coleoidea turn even the most docile sea creatures deadly.



Weasley had likely purchased items from a suspicious merchant in Knockturn Alley, one that promised results of a sexual nature from a equally suspicious aphrodisiac. Unfortunately for him, Weasley forgot to ask just which species the aphrodisiac served to arouse.



Snape refrained from expounding the messy details to the impressionable minds of first years, how wearing the unfortunate scent could turn one into an aquatic sex toy for amorous cephalopods, but the gist remained. It wasn’t a wise idea.



And Weasley, due to his bumbling, inferior intellect succeeded in killing himself, the stupid git.



He’d go down in Hogwart’s history as the first wizard mated to death by the giant squid.



Snape’s lip quirked. Watching Weasley fall prey to the infernal sea-beast was compensation enough for the years of his life wasted on dunderheads and death eaters. Well, not entirely. There was still one last score to settle.



A strange smirk manifested itself upon the face of Severus Snape as he readied his wand and headed to comfort the sobbing witch.



Yes, one last score to settle.



And score he would, indeed.