The Day I Died...

April 19, 1994 -Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

The Fat Friar floated down the staircase towards the Entrance Hall. It was a brisk April day, and the Friar wanted to enjoy it as much as he could. For a shadow hung over this day, it was his four hundredth Death Day today. His mind traveled back to that dreadful time, right before his death.

April 15, 1554 - Bristol, England

Friar John breathed in the fresh spring air. It was a welcome change from the drafty monastery air he lived with everyday. Having this free time was priceless for him. He walked through the monastery garden, reflecting upon his life. He was a Protestant monk in a monastery in Bristol. It was a time of great conflict in England. The queen was a Catholic who hated anyone who did not believe in the Catholic Church. Called heretics, non-believers were arrested, interrogated and in most cases, killed. Being a Protestant, Friar John had initially pretended to be a Catholic to save his skin. However, his loyalty to his faith was too strong. He decided not to pretend and just let fate decide whether he should live or not. He began to show openly that he was a Protestant and knew that he would get in trouble for it. And if that were not discovered, he would get killed for being a heretic anyway.

For the Friar was a wizard. It had been discovered years ago and was hidden so as to keep him safe. He had not told a soul about his magical powers, for they would expose him and get him killed. They would also be signing their own death warrants because hiding a heretic was a crime as well. However, in this trying time, just about anything could be considered a crime. One wrong word could get a person thrown into the Tower or killed.

Friar John shook his head, trying to get rid of his dark thoughts. However, reality always prevailed and the thoughts continued to linger in his mind. The bell that called the monks for mass rang out and Friar John sighed and went to the church.

"Friar John! I have a message for you."

"From whom?"

"From the queen's advisors," the monk said shuddering.

"May I have it?" Friar John asked.

"Here it is."

The Friar took the document and read it aloud. "Sir, we have been commanded by the Queen to take you to the Tower of London in two days time."

"Friar John, that's not good! They must know that you're Protestant!

"Of course they do. I stopped hiding the fact that I was Protestant months ago. It's not worth hiding, but it's worth dying for."

"You really mean that? You really would sacrifice your life for your sect of Christianity?"

"Yes I would. And happily at that."

"That is a loyal thing, yet very dangerous dear Friar."

"I know."

"Will you let them arrest you?"

"Do I have a choice, my dear friend? You know as well as I do that nothing I do will prevent my arrest."

"Nothing except death, Friar John, and you won't take that horrid path."

"No, I don't expect to." Yet an idea was blossoming in Friar John's head. Death was the only way to escape the arrest. Yet would he have the strength to do it? "I do not know what to do about this. The best thing I can do is wait and pray. Nothing else can be done."

"Yes, I know, Friar John. I know." The monk turned and left Friar John alone in the study.

"Death, will death take me away from this place?" Friar John mumbled to himself.

Friar John awoke before sunrise. He had gotten no sleep the previous night. He had been up all night thinking about his death. He had a choice: either die at the hands of the Catholic Queen or die at his own hands. The Friar gazed out the window, as the sun came up. A decision flooded his mind. He would die at his own hands. But just how he was to go about it, he did not know.

The morning bell rang, calling all the monks for mass. Friar John hurried to the mass, not wanting to miss the last one he would ever attend.

* * * *

Mass had finished, and they had breakfasted. The sun was now shining bright outside and Friar John went for a walk by the river. The river was flowing swiftly, the current a dangerous one. Friar John paused by the side of the river and looked down at it. "I can end my life here and now, but will I do it?" he mused to himself. "Do I have the power to do it or will I let the Catholics kill me? Should I really do this? Was my life so worthless that I should just let myself be carried away by this river?" Friar John stood there overwhelmed by his thoughts.

He put his hand in the river, feeling the water. Suddenly, the current pulled him down. And his weight did not help him. His weight pulled him down the river, the current slowly dragging him away. He shouted for help, but none came. He slowly drifted down the river, never to be seen again.

The Fat Friar came back to reality again. He was now back in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. Hogwarts was where he always liked to be. He had no idea what had happened when the Queen's men had come for him, nor did he care much. He knew nothing about life after he fell into the river. He expected that it went on. Nothing stopped for him. Whether he had died at his own hands, he never determined. He was now a ghost, just a ghost. Perhaps he was more compassionate with Peeves than the others, but that was the only thing he did differently. Otherwise, he was the same. He had always been the same. Being a ghost did not change much about him, he was the same.

This is the end of this fic! I hope you enjoyed it!