"GUILTY!!!!", Azkaban Winners Announced! Options

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Owls will be sent from the Ministry to the following guilty writers regarding their sentences.


1. PINKPANTHER Wins the Grand Prize of 5 Galleons for The End Of The Beginning! She will go to Azkaban!

2. RONSMYMAN Wins the Second Prize of 4 Galleons for A Duel of Dual Emotions! She will go to Azkaban!


3. AGRIPPA Wins the Third Prize of 3 Galleons for Too Many Memories! He will go to Azkaban!


4. McGONAGALL'S CAT and ZYMURGY Tie for the Fourth Place Prize of 2 Galleons for The Wronski Feint and Shouldn't Happen to a Dog! They will go to Azkaban!


CONGRATULATIONS, FELLOW FERRETS!
Many thanks to all who participated in this Challenge!
All members are encouraged to resume the other projects around the site and start new ones! We'll make an announcement when we're ready to hold another Official Project Ferret Writing Challenge!

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GRAND PRIZE WINNER OF 5 GALLEONS - PINKPANTHER

The End of the Beginning

Sirius' hand trembled as he slowly reached forward toward the slightly ajar door. The Potters' house was silent, but Sirius couldn't shake the feeling of dread growing in the pit of his stomach, like being caught in the middle of uncomplimentary hexes. He wasn't supposed to be here, but he'd overheard . . . something. He wasn't sure what it meant, the message was for Dumbledore, but he did catch the words "terrible" and "Potters." He wondered if Dumbledore had been here yet. The door creaked open and he willed his shaking legs over the threshold. He wasn't afraid, exactly; he knew fear well enough to deal with it. But this, this was something more, like panic and foreboding, mixed with a swift kick to the abdomen. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he gingerly called out, "James?" No answer. He tried again, "James? Lily? Anybody here?" Still nothing. The fear, or whatever it was had almost completely gripped him and it took every ounce of willpower he had to force himself forward. The house was dark and empty. "Perhaps they're asleep," Sirius thought to himself, but as if to answer him, a slight breeze pushed on the still-open door, causing it to emit an eerie creak. Sirius took another deep breath. "James?" His voice was more urgent this time, his adrenaline and concern for his friends beginning to take over.
He moved to the stairs, but as his foot searched for the first step, it kicked something lying on the floor, something light and cylindrical. He pointed his wand at the floor and whispered, "lumos." The wand sent a soft, magical glow on the floor, but what Sirius saw hit him with a fresh wave of terror over him. It was James' wand, or part of it. It looked as though it had been split down the middle and the rough edge was blackened.
Sirius only stared at it for a moment, then he leapt for the stairs. "James! James! Lily!" He yelled, but the only answer was his own voice, echoing through the house. As he reached the second floor, he whipped madly around the corner, but froze in his tracks. In the corner, partially illuminated by his wand, lay a limp figure, unmoving and quiet. Fighting panic, Sirius raised his wand. As the light flooded the corner, Sirius fell to his knees and gagged. He forced himself to take a breath, then dragged his trembling body toward James still form.
Once again, he raised his want to see his friend's pale face. "Oh God," he whispered, unaware of the tears now streaming down his face. He gingerly reached his free hand toward James, but even before his fingers reached the cold, lifeless form, Sirius knew the truth. Still, unwilling to believe that his best friend was gone, he tried frantically, desperately to find a pulse. Finally, he could deny it no more. He carefully released James' arm and struggled to his feet. His knees threatened to buckle beneath him, but he managed to steady himself on the wall and, forcing himself to breathe, proceeded down the corridor.
The first door Sirius reached was open--little Harry's room. The sight that met him as he entered, though, squashed any hope he might have had. The room was in shambles. Toys and pictures from the walls were strewn about chaotically and the cradle lay on its side, next to a pile of blankets just visible in the weak light shining through the broken window. Stifling a sob, Sirius took a step toward the cradle, but stopped. He couldn't bear it. He couldn't look at his godson, so he turned instead to the window to regain his composure. The sun was nearly risen. His gaze drifted to the floor where the drapes lay in a heap. He looked again. Something about them, about their shape on the floor was wrong. He pointed his wand toward the window, then choked back a scream as he ran toward Lily, crumpled on the tattered curtains. He knew, knew without even touching her.
His sobs were coming freely now, unchecked. "NO!" he screamed, over and over. He turned away from Lily toward the wall and felt his wand slip to the floor as he knelt, racked with emotion. He heard voices outside, but his tears didn't stop; they only changed from anguish to rage. It filled every ounce of his being as he seized his wand and leapt to his feet. He took the stairs two at a time, propelled by the anger that pulsed through him. He had only one thought in his brain: He would find Peter and make him suffer.
Once outside, he paused. Peter couldn't be far, but which way would he try to run? Choosing the left, he turned, but a voice behind him caused him to stop. "Sirius! Dumbledore's already been here. He sent me to fetch Harry from those ministry blokes. You ought ter come with me."
Sirius whirled around to see the hulking form of Hagrid, concern written on his face. He fumbled for words. "Harry. . . alive? But, I just . . . No, Hagrid. Take my motorcycle and get him to Dumbledore. I won't be needing it."
He took another look at the house and noticed ministry officials beginning to arrive before he turned and tore madly down the street. The incident with Hagrid had done little to calm him. In fact, the rage bubbling inside him seemed greater as it drove him on.
Suddenly, up ahead, he caught sight of Peter, standing in the road still occupied by curious muggles, a few still in slippers and bathrobes. "Pettigrew, you filthy coward!" Sirius bellowed, eyes blazing, "You can't hide in those muggles!" The people on the street were staring at this wild-looking man, but he didn't notice or care. Peter whirled around and and stood frozen on the spot while Sirius kept charging. "Lily and James, you disgusting, worthless traitor! How could you do it to Lily and James?!?"
His voice was choked with emotion, but revenge gleamed in his eyes as he raised his wand. As Sirius opened his mouth, Peter pointed his wand at himself and muttered a few words, terror still written on his face. Before Sirius knew what happened, he was on his back, the explosion still echoing off the buildings. Sirius scrambled to his feet. His wand had been knocked out of his hand, but he hastily grabbed it and turned back to where Peter had stood, but all that remained were some smoldering bits of cloth and one pudgy, blackened finger, flanked by the bodies of several fallen muggles. Sirius howled with rage and attempted to lunge forward, but his arms were suddenly pinned from behind. "Let go of me!" He yelled, as he tried in vain to shake off the burly wizards who held him. Helpless, Sirius turned back toward the remains of Peter, but a movement to the side caught his attention. The sun was completely up now and Sirius could see the form of a large rat limping toward a drainage pipe.
Triumphantly, Sirius screamed, "I know what you are, Pettigrew! I swear on my life I'll find you and when I do you'll wish you'd never been born!" With that, Sirius, overcome by the sheer range and velocity of his emotions and the shocks he'd encountered, began to cackle wildly at the thought of destroying the traitor.