The Dark Gryffindor

sjauthor: Yes, what I have planned for the prefects is pretty harsh...It's written down below. The reason Valerie didn't tell Ginny the Carrows interrogated her is because if she fully explained why, it would draw attention to the fact that she is different than any other D.A. member. For why would Voldemort pretend to think she stole his diadem? Of course, he doesn't really...but he wanted the Carrows interrogating her for the reason that he knows her personally. So Valerie decided she’d just ignore the subject altogether rather than making a greater web of lies for herself. And Valerie was just too embarrassed and proud to get Ginny's presumed pity for being tortured in the dungeons. So that's why she didn't tell Ginny that either.


Continuation of….


Chapter Twenty-six: Taming a Monster


Valerie muttered the password ‘Dumbledore’ and proceeded up the steps to Snape’s office. She wasn’t supposed to attend, but she couldn’t resist and she thought it was worth it, despite the offhand chance he’d be angry. She had to see what would happen to Damion. Valerie felt she deserved to get to see the boy who had treated her so badly suffer.

She entered the circular spacious room, full of Snape’s books, probably originating from Spinner’s End. She was surprised to see the three boys already seated in the chairs in front of the headmaster’s desk, backs to her. Valerie strode confidently into the room, and said stiffly, as if she wasn’t close to Snape, “Good evening, sir.”

Snape slowly said, as if he was completely caught off guard by her visit, “What brings you here, young lady?”

“I saw the time of the boys appointment in the note, headmaster. I couldn’t help my curiosity,” she said clearly. Valerie took a seat beside Damion, who glared at her reproachfully. She ignored him.

“Well, you arrived in good time. We were just about to get started,” said Snape smoothly, almost pleasant. He closed the books that were spread out on his desk and returned them to an already bulging bookcase. Snape took his time and finally returned.

He looked at the three boys with nothing less than cold disdain, and a chilling fury emanated his entire presence. Snape descended down on his students, seating himself in the high-backed, throne-like chair again, placing his hands on the desk, and feigning a diplomatic gesture.

Valerie noticed he seemed to have forgotten she was present. He had eyes only for the three prefects.

“Now do you boys have any idea why I’ve summoned you to my office?”

They did not answer, but their expressions remained politely confused. Perhaps, they had rehearsed this confusion act with Damion.

Finally, Damion relented to give an answer. “No, sir,” he said for both himself and the other two in a tone of cold dullness.

Snape looked completely disbelieving at this. He repeated cynically, “You have no idea why you are here?”

The three boys looked at each other and then back at Snape, all three of them shaking their heads simultaneously. Snape was finding it appalling that they obviously did not harness a guilty conscience for the horrible crimes. The thing was that the boys had been guarding the dungeons since September and had gradually grown into the acts, without even being aware they were. They were so used to their behaviour, and the Carrows insistence it was appropriate that they no longer questioned it.

It was striking how fast Snape switched tactics, changing to mocking amusement. He pretended to find the situation funny. “Then…Would you be so kind to tell me of your adventuresome exploits in the dungeons?” And it was blatantly apparent he was being sarcastic.

The two other boys were startled. Shocked that Snape wished to see them tonight to discuss this. They had never spoken of the details. Not to anyone, never had they even considered confiding in another soul of what went on in there. It was sort of like a wretched secret they shared with Damion, who had said tell nobody.

Damion frowned and struggled, brain working overtime for a sharp explanation. He wasn’t going to give away himself or his crew. “I really don’t understand what you mean, professor. We do exactly as the Carrows instructed. It’s our job to punish. Tasks only include chaining and whipping them. That’s all there is …It also gets us extra credit in Amycus’s Dark Arts class. We’ve become experts at delivering the Cruciatus, sir.”

“Be that as it may…” said Snape steadily. Inside, Snape was growing increasingly furious that they were not confessing right out. Damion was now gazing at Snape in wonder. He expected the headmaster, who had taught Dark Arts last year, to be pleased they were mastering his revered profession. “…I must know if there is anything else going on in the dungeons…Anything…sexual?”

Damion’s eyes widened and he lied fearlessly, right on the spot, “No, professor.” For Damion certainly did not expect Professor Snape to know or to ever discover this. But Damion did not possess the gall to admit the terrible truth, anyway.

Snape rose from his desk at once and boomed, “How dare you! Outright deceiving the headmaster! I already knew it as fact. I know all about the abysmal antics you’re playing at!”

The portraits around the room started to whisper to each other, suddenly paying attention to what was going on.

Damion, finally did not look so relaxed, his breathing changed and he demanded, “How? How do you know?”

“Miss Powers recollected it to me last night,” said Snape harshly. He was whispering right in Damion’s face, leaning over the desk, right on top of the boy. “How dare you try to wheedle out of these crimes…You foul thing whom molests children.”

Damion gulped and said in true anguish, “Sir – don’t speak of it! I cannot bear to hear it like that!” And Damion was embarrassed. For he was exposed. The worst skeleton was coming out of his closet. He was in pain more for himself and what this would entail for his future than for anyone else’s suffering. If everyone found out, Damion was sure he could not live up to the shame.

Snape scoffed derisively, “Have no fear, Mr. Bulstrode. I shall not be telling anyone of your fetid treatment. But do not worry…I shall be punishing you. Severely….”

Snape paused to let it sink in, as he finished the ominous statement. The two boys sitting beside Damion quaked in their seats and gulped. They hoped desperately that they would be spared the punishment. Damion steeled himself; black eyes glinting and he turned his head to Valerie rigidly, forcing out hollowly “It’s all because of you.”

Snape shook his head disapprovingly. “I wouldn’t dare start blaming her, Mr. Bulstrode. If it wasn’t for Ms. Powers I wouldn’t have seen or heard about all this…. Furthermore nobody calls my - nobody calls a fellow student a skank, while I am headmaster. Is that clear?”

Damion whispered through his teeth that he was grinding, “Yes, sir.”

“You are a monster. Crueler than beyond any description. My retribution is the least of what you deserve. Don’t give me that –“ said Snape, almost losing his control. He had seen in Damion’s mind – the righteous thought that he wasn’t the only one who punished with the whips and Cruciatus and chaining, and also that Damion thought he wasn’t responsible since the Carrows enforced the cruel punishments. However, this boy was the only who molested the prisoners.

“Nobody told you to go on a raping rampage. You treat them like animals. You should be thrown in Azkaban! – Perhaps even a life sentence…I am aware how this is not feasible under the current state of things. And with you being a spoiled Pureblood prince….You’d probably escape all charges, that is if the government felt the need the need to incur upon you…Yet upon standing, I too, have more pressing matters at hand that must be dealt with…So, to business…”

And Snape took a deep breath, done with his furious tirades. He stalked away from the ebony wood desk. Everyone turned around to watch and see where the headmaster was going. He went to a battered old oak cabinet, and Valerie caught her breath. She was sure of what Snape was going to take out. But still, she insisted to herself that they deserved much worse than that.

Seconds later, Snape returned, plodding slowly towards them. “Get up!” he snarled. Instantly, they rose and watched Snape with amazement to see him grasping a thick rattan cane. It was heaviest cane, the one used on the rarest of occasions.

Damion’s shoulders sagged, but his face relaxed a bit. He too, had been expecting more. Polite, and still calm he asked, “Are you going to cane us, sir?”

Snape managed the barest of nods, mouth in a grim line.

Valerie rose as well, and instinctively, stepped away from the boys. She certainly didn’t want to give Snape the idea of doing this again to herself. She knew how painful it was having experienced it once before.

One of the other boys, a sixth year Slytherin Prefect named Richard Grightly, said, “But, sir? Caning?!” There was a definite edge of panic and it sounded as if this boy had never expected this.

Meanwhile, the other boy a short, handsome, fifteen-year-old, Pureblood Slytherin Fifth year was shaking clearly terrified.

Snape said with a dangerous silkiness, “Tell me, how many do you deserve?”

He addressed it more to Richard who stammered, “M-me? You’re asking me?! But I didn’t molest anyone! I-“

“Silence. You went along with Mr. Bulstrode, supporting his crimes, Mr. Grightley and you too, Mr. Greengrass. You were both well aware of them, and therefore served as an accomplice of sorts. Therefore, you as a coward deserves to be condemned with the same. You should all feel guilt for the parts you played…. So how many do you deserve?” Snape finished eagerly. His objective was to make them examine their conscience.

“Er….Four strokes?” said Richard blankly.

Damion paused, and added carefully, “Five or maybe six, sir?”

“Wrong! You are getting twice as many as six. And this shall certainly teach you a lesson. One you would do well not to forget, unless you want to find yourself in Azkaban one day. And immediately, after I shall Crucio you each myself. I think its high time you learned how that feels. Do you understand? Do you understand?!”

Damion wished he could find a way to plead himself out of this. All he could do was affirm, placating, hoping to cool the headmaster’s rage, “Yes, sir. Yes – I understand.”

Richard looked much more anxious. He had watched the Cruciatus curse in action at full throttle for months. It had gotten to the point where the wracking screams invaded his dreams. Now it was going to happen to him. It couldn’t! He said firmly, but sounding sickened, “You can’t do this, sir.”

“No student tells me what I can or cannot do. You first, Mr. Bulstrode. Get over my desk!” Snape rasped with hatred.

Damion hesitated and then trudged the few steps forward, resigning himself to abide. Damion was not wearing robes and so did not need to remove them.

“I think it necessary for you to be humiliated more than the usual…Drop your trousers!”

Damion obeyed fingers going to his belt and rapidly unbuckling and undoing the zipper. Valerie watched with a curious expression, standing off to the side. Damion’s trousers fell, sweeping to his shoes, resting above the ankles. Oh, how many times Valerie had done that for the blowjobs Damion wanted! It was strange to see this happening before her eyes.

Snape stood over Damion’s backside. Suddenly with a whirl of his wand, Damion gasped as cool air went on his buttocks. Snape had just removed his boxers with a spell. Snape felt more than justified, considering that the boy had sexually maimed others and kept all of them naked.

Valerie started to giggle with delight. She felt free, as if she had a license to laugh during such harsh measures getting meted out. She stood there with pleasure at being a spectator, hands behind her back; her feet parted with her shoes jutting out.

“This is not a comedy club, Miss Powers. These boys are being punished…Maintain a serious disposition or else you will leave!” said Snape, and it was not an empty threat.

At once, Valerie’s humour died away, yet the smile didn’t leave her glowing face. She moved to face Damion, standing a few feet behind Snape’s desk, where Damion could look at her gloating smile through curtains of his raven-coloured hair.

Without further ado, Snape raised the cane and brought it down with a whooshing hiss and then a horrible crack at it impacted flesh. Damion did not cry out, but he was surprised. It was surely as much severity as most of the whippings he’d delivered. His two comrades looked on out of morbid curiosity, and Valerie’s smile only widened with delight.

Snape demanded icily, eyes flashing, “Count them!”

“One, sir,” Damion groaned.

Snape continued, rapidly smacking the boy’s bared buttocks. Valerie maintained a mischievous smile, which Damion stared at. He glared at her with nothing less than hatred and vowed silently how he’d find a way to get revenge. Finally, Valerie stopped smiling, detecting the undercurrent of Damion’s thirst for vengeance.

At the sixth stroke and onward, Damion moaned with each blow. Until finally he couldn’t help screaming in irritation and from the adrenaline, “FUCKING MERLIN!” It was hurting like hell, his backside on fire, all the strokes overlapping.

“That’s an extra – A thirteenth stroke right there for defaming the Wizard's name for god or what we call the source!” said Snape sternly.

Damion resisted crying out at those words, and his agony consumed all his concentration. He even forgot about Valerie, as the headmaster raised the cane and brought it down mercilessly again. Snape was caning the nasty Slytherin with full force.

Snape paused for a moment and offered as a brutal teasing, “Not exactly stoic are you?”

Snape was about to finish Damion’s punishment. He waited, tapping the cane restlessly on the boy’s back for him to say aloud the final stroke. Damion said it and the boy moved away from Snape as if he was contagious. Damion’s buttocks were completely full of deep red stripes and even bleeding a little.

Snape nodded at the other Sixth year, “You –next.” The handsome fifth year boy watched as Richard, the other Sixth year went to bend over. He had already removed his schoolrobes. Valerie noticed Richard’s neck was throbbing like a chicken going to the chopping block.

Before Snape would cane the next boy, he turned back to Damion. “And you, Mr. Bulstrode – You will lay down on the floor and wait for me to Crucio you.”

Damion, who couldn’t resist rubbing his behind, from all the stinging sensations, obeyed at once, going into a degrading pose, as he was prone with his pants down, revealing his battered flesh. He figured it would be too painful to lie down on his back. He didn’t dare move to pull up his trousers, fearful it would give Snape reason to extend this all. Valerie was no longer smiling but just watching with blank detachment.

Snape gave the next boy the full twelve strokes, yet he did not apply it with the extreme force that was what he’d inflicted on Damion. Richard did not curse, but by the fifth smack, a profuse amount of tears came down his face, tears that only Valerie saw. Valerie looked away, and suddenly an interesting thought occurred to her. She wondered if this boy had felt any compassion for her when she was being punished in the dungeons. Perhaps he really didn’t like to see what had happened to her and the others. She could only hope he had some feelings for her. Ones that matched the slight pity she felt for him right now.

A minute or more later, Snape finished hitting him and said sounding tired, “On the floor.”

“You’re last Mr. Greengrass. I assure you my caning arm is not fatigued.”

The short Fifth year boy nodded, and glanced respectfully up at Snape. In a desperate attempt, to be reconciled he finally spoke, “Yes, sir. And I’m sorry.”

“An apology is not enough…Assume the position.”

The boy nodded gravely and bent down. He also cried, and actually a couple of sobs escaped him. Finally Snape ended it after twelve whacks and told the boy, almost gently, “lay down.”

Snape stalled, as he stood over the three huddled on the ground. They felt a sense of humiliation like how the prisoners felt.

At once the wand was out, a vein pulsing from Snape’s forehead. He looked truly sadistic. “CRUCIO!”

Damion, the only one with the Curse thus far, screamed and writhed on the ground, sounding like he was being stabbed to death. Snape did not relinquish the Curse, but kept him in his pain, as he next laid the curse on the others.

After a long minute of piercing explosive screams, a moment that felt like it would never cease, but go on forever, Snape ended their torture. However, this was not all there would be to the punishment.

Snape paused afterwards, watching them. The three boys’ pants were still down. They remained a heap upon the ground, shaking erratically. Valerie couldn’t help but peer at them in fascination. And Snape hardly noticed her presence.

“Stand up,” said Snape, with appraising harshness. “I said on your feet boys!”

The three managed to get up on wobbling legs, as they slowly pulled their pants back up and put their robes back on, if they brought them. Snape went back over to the cabinet to put away the cane, locking the cabinet door.

And Snape came back over to the boys, glaring at all three of them as they rubbed their backsides. The cane’s bite was still stinging, and burning with a sensation that only faded gradually.

The headmaster broke the silence. “We will also…be arranging you a detention supervised exclusively by Mr. Filch. I’m sure he’ll be happy to do a thorough whipping as you’re strung up in chains.”

Damion seemed to get his bearings back, as he rejected heatedly, “Sir! No! I’m a prefect. If that happens, we’ll be the first prefects given detention this year. Think of it…Slytherin prefects!”

Snape seemed to hesitate, as he looked thoughtfully ahead past the three recalcitrant schoolboys, mulling it over in his head, as he traced his lips with a finger. “This is only to be between us…I assure you it won’t affect our house or how high our points are standing. Nobody is going to hear of this egregious behavior, as I told you before, Mr. Bulstrode!”

“But I- We’ll be the only ones given detention who aren’t resisting your rule, sir! I support you and the Carrows’ regime. I swear it! I won’t be thrown in with the resisters –the others in the dungeons, headmaster!” Damion practically bawled with misery and bitterness. The truth was he was too stuck up and thought the station well beneath him. “Don’t do this-“

“YES,” said Snape, his voice as solid as steel, and he smacked his fist into his palm, meshing it in there. “Yes. And continue this argument, Mr. Bulstrode and I’ll have you in more detentions than the one!”

Damion finally quelled his dissent, as he asked sounding defeated, “When? When will my- our detention be, professor?”

“How about Friday?” said Snape, pragmatic and almost cheerful. “…Right before our Quidditch match against Gryffindor this Sunday. I daresay it should toughen up my star beater? Shouldn’t it Mr. Bulstrode?”

Damion gave the barest of nods and stared back at Snape sullenly. It was true he was a beater on the Slytherins' team. Until he suddenly remembered, “Can’t it be another time?” and he actually whined, “I’ll miss the first apparition lesson scheduled Friday night!”

“Good. Glad to hear that. I shudder to think of the wizard you’ll be when you’re full-grown and qualified, Mr. Bulstrode. I could care less if you miss this…for if you were seventeen, I would expel you. And before you left the school grounds, I’d hurt you so bad you’d have problems walking to the gates! I’d be thanking Merlin you’re underage.”

Damion stared back at Snape, speechless. There was that look of loathing still in his eyes, but in actuality, Damion wasn’t even aware of how it was actually self-loathing. Although twisted and disturbed, deep down Damion did regret what he did and he hated himself for it.

“Now…Wait here while I write out the correspondence, for I have not the patience to deal with this corrupted staff personally anymore…One concerns the conditions in the dungeons. Henceforth, on my decree as headmaster, they will become more humane. No caging prisoners, and certainly no inappropriate acts. I cannot remove the whipping, chaining or Cruciatus Curse as the Dark Lord demands this. But I shall see the Carrows enforce that nothing further happens. If not I shall bring this to the Dark Lord. And yes, he would be willing to listen to my complaints…”

Damion gave a loud skeptical sneer at that list bit from his breath and even Valerie was surprised to hear Snape’s opinion on Voldemort’s reaction if he heard students were raped. Voldemort would not be pleased because he understands raping his coveted youth army, would hurt this segment of a part of his own military, a part of it being the youth in training who might lose some of their magical ability. “And you will also give Mr. Filch this note….Where I kindly request of him to punish you this Friday.”

The boys stared glumly at Snape, and Damion held out his hand to take it, Snape shoving the parchments into his hand.

“Good, night,” said Snape tersely. Instructed to leave, the boys turned dismally away. The Slytherin prefects finally left and Valerie stared at Snape in awe.

But a moment later, he made her leave as well, reminding her how important it was to remain in the Room of Requirement to serve as his and the Dark Lord’s spy. Things were sure to change because of the headmaster finally exerting his full authority. The prefects who acted like cops with the Carrows, in which the whole school was like a totalitarian police state, would at least be purged of the worst abuses that prisoners of the dungeons suffered. Headmaster Snape’s involvement had hardly ever been felt in the past. But now at least things were changing, if only a meager amount, it was better than nothing.


NOTE: I hope you don’t think Snape was too cruel. I do not think so, consider the fact the boy raped and the others watched and did nothing. It is truly evil what happened and they deserved this in the least. Please review! The next scenes are so dramatic...they are going to blow you by surprise!