The Dark Gryffindor

Sheherazade: Snape also dealt with the prefects because of what he did to the general student body. It was not really cause of how he treated Valerie. Oh…but he will cane her for something later…Oh, did I let that slip? Lol. It won’t be for awhile though.


Please review. I hope you appreciate the length of this.


Chapter Twenty-seven: Battle for the Cup


The entire Gryffindor team waited for the start of the most momentous game of the school year and would later become one of the most momentous Quidditch Matches in the history of Hogwarts….

All that stood between the Gryffindor team, and the crowd outside was a huge wooden doorway, which keeled open as if on it’s own, or really by magic. The teams' faces bathed in sunlight and Valerie took a deep calming breath and listened to the thunderous mixes of applause and yet, there was something worse in the mood, something she could feel but couldn’t quite place.

Valerie had already endured for most of the week the constant viscious remarks from the Slytherins, about how terrible she and her team would perform on Sunday. Of course, she was quite used to this. But this crowd seemed different than it ever had before like an animal that wanted to lash out.

Valerie glanced at her captain. Ginny’s brown eyes were sparkling in the dazzling sunshine with a fierce determination, as she turned her head to Valerie’s with a shining look, which Valerie mirrored in her eyes.

They stepped out onto the grassy pitch and caught a breeze, one of the first scents of spring. “And here is the Gryffindor team, Ginny Weasley as seeker and captain!” announced Mcgonagall through her megaphone.

And at once, applause mixed with a much louder booing could be heard from the throng of people surrounding them. It felt as enormous as if they were in a coliseum. The weather was still debating whether or not to comply. It was the typical tepid March weather.

At the other end of the pitch stood the Slytherin team silhouttes like foreboding dark shadows. The breeze turned colder, and a misty fog gradually descended from above.

Snape wearing green and silver robes, the same ones he wore to a match he refereed six years ago was in the center of the pitch. The Gryffindor team jumped back on their heels at the blaring of trumpets. It seemed to be signaling the presence of a very important individual and then it stopped.

The crowd quieted down and craned their necks to the private compartment in the center of the pitch, above all the stands.

“Children, men and women of Hogwarts…Witches and Wizards of Great Britain….this day is deigned as the final match of Hogwart’s Quidditch season…” It was a syrupy voice that sounded dull. Minister for Magic, Pius Thickness stood on his seat; wand tipped to his throat addressing the many people who had come to watch. Lucius Malfoy and Yaxley, were there for some odd reason, flanking Thickness. The reality was Voldemort had ordered them present for a political reason, to get Thickness and his people to act on whatever Voldemort wanted his puppet to get done.

“Here stands the two houses: Slytherin and Gryffindor decked out in Quidditch gear. Because today one of them will be taking the House Cup…I ask to remind you all of the greatest event in our history…the notorious duel between Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor…. It decided the blood purity issue and who enters to study at the most prestigious Wizarding school in the world…But today is a new day. Currently the situation stands that Mudbloods are barred entrance into this fine institution, as it should have been in the past. And to win today…I hear that-that”

Lucius nudged the ignorant, Imperiused Pius Thickness in the elbow, and whispered something in his ear. Meanwhile, scores of ringing derisive laughter rang out at the minister’s clear incompetence.

“Slytherin does not need to capture the snitch today,” continued Thicnkess, regaining confidence. “The points stand thus: Slytherin must win by a mere forty points or more and then the cup is there’s to take!….Gryffindor’s chances are impossible…They must catch the snitch plus score one hundred additional points. Amassing a total of two hundred and fifty points is futile! They should forfeit instead! It is an unattainable feat. So…I ask that Slytherin takes back that duel and wins today’s match….so that the Purebloods’ superiority is shown as the correct creed!”

There was dirty looks from all of the people who quite clearly disagreed, Mcgonagall’s being one of the ugliest expressions she’d ever worn as she detested all the racism against those who aren't pure. Thickness’s staff, most of them Death Eaters had instructed to tell the Imperiused minister to say this, as Voldemort had wanted the message to come out as well.

“Thank-you!” said Thickness, and ending his speech, he toppled back down. There was a long uncomfortable silence, and some people actually laughed. But it was humorless and quite clearly it was the people who were disturbed by the unsaid implications of Thickness’ words.

The loud tramping of boots was heard and suddenly the pitch’s many doorways were stormed by over one hundred men and women. Dressed in uniform, black and yellow robes, with double ‘S’ badges of linked serpents on their chests, they swarmed the pitch and converged, facing Snape.

Snape had not expected this to happen. The men saluted, raising their left forearms and shouted in unison, “Hail the Dark Lord!”

Scabior, the Chief Snatcher in his magnificent yellow robes came to the forefront of his men. The two men, Snape and Scabior bowed respectfully at each other and the headmaster returned the chant, mouthing with the sonorous charm, “Hail the Dark Lord!” In this moment, Snape looked more openly like a Death Eater than ever to students and staff of Hogwarts, standing there and honoring Voldemort whilst a hood covered Snape's head like any Death Eater. He felt strange, he had never openly displayed his Mark to a crowd.

He waited for the Slytherins to follow and just about every Slytherin did and nearly none of the people from the other three houses followed.

Finally, Snape beckoned over to the two teams to come forward so that the match could commence. The Chief Snatcher, Scabior returned to his men, directing them to supervise the entire pitch. All one hundred Snatchers dispersed into smaller groups, their presence marked all over the pitch.

A curtain seemed to descend, enclosing all four sides of the stands, creating an impenetrable wall of darkness. It was the dementors. People were screaming and some crying as all broke loose. Clearly the dementors were attracted to the emotions of the crowd, and a long drawn-out rattling breath came.

Everything was growing dark. Snape who didn’t want to reveal to everyone that he could fly knew he had to control the dementors from a distance. He took his wand out and shot several sharp spells of light. It was not just the spell but the intention. The dementors intercepted the mental message, in which Snape commanded them to leave, promising them deceptively a treat later (it was part of what controlled them). People saw the lights darting around the stadium, and suddenly the dementors were no longer over the stands, yet nobody knew who had done the magic.

Snape looked angry and he yelled at the two teams, “Start!” The two teams rose up, hovering in the air on opposing sides. The whistle blew and at once Mcgonagall’s voice, nearly as shrilly as the whistle said, “And the match begins!”

The balls were flying around the pitch and Ginny sped away on her broom. At least the team was able to find her a Nimbus 2000, but against the other Seeker, Draco who had managed to get a Firebolt for himself this year, she hardly stood a chance.

“And Seamus Finnegan takes possession of the Quaffle," yelled Mcgonagall victoriously. Most of the school cheered as Gryffindor scored ten points, and the scoreboard changed with a loud clang. At once the red soccer sized ball came soaring back towards the pitch.

Cheering, one hand off her broom, Valerie sped forward with the other chaser, Demelza Robins. Valerie managed to grab the quaffle by some luck and she scored another twenty points through the Slytherin’s side goal hoops. “Powers scores!” said Mcgonagall, practically jumping up and down in her seat.

The Slytherin keeper let loose a mix of swearwords that were impossible to discern in the deafening applause. The Slytherins down below could be heard complaining. To Valerie, it sounded like a bunch of whining cows.

Valerie suddenly noticed another person up in the air speeding right towards her. It was one of the beaters, which either meant Damion or his sister, and also Head Girl, Millicent Bulstrode who had become the only female beater at Hogwarts for decades.

Instinctively, Valerie sped away before Damion could hit her with a bludger. She turned around and over her shoulder, she saw he was glowering at her with a look that matched the clouds. Damion's dark eyes were glinting like shadows.

But Valerie felt sure Damion had tried to commit a move against the rules, a foul called blagging, in which a player intentionally speeds towards another player with the purpose to collide.

She circled back around the pitch, and looked up to notice her cousin circling the pitch, really high up, but she was gradually going lower. Draco, was following her, thinking the Snitch probably wasn’t that high either. Meanwhile, shadows past overhead, and the sky went from partly cloudy to completely cloudy again. All the visibility disappeared, and a light drizzle of rain started.

“Three chasers of Gryffindor relentlessly pursue the Slytherins in hopes to prevent them scoring…” announced Mcgonagall, as she watched them. “Slytherin scores ten…” and at once, Slytherin seemed to get much louder. Mcgonagall screamed at the top of her lungs, “Thirty to Gryffindor, ten to Slytherin. Gryffindor in the winning!”

But it was drowned out by nearly fifty Slytherins chorusing; “She’s the runt of the pack of the Blood-traitor crap…the weasel captain and seeker of Gryffindor losers!” And right in the center of the Slytherin’s stands stood Pansy Parkinson waving her wand like a conductor, and surrounding her was a band of Slytherins waving banners. The banners had identical serpents sewed in, as they waved them like it was a swastika symbol, as it to show support for Voldemort’s regime.

Valerie watched Ginny’s expression for the few seconds of freedom. Ginny’s face was impassive, as if the words didn’t affect her. It was very different to how her brothers would react; they would never be able to contain themselves. She was capable of ignoring it, her eyes scanning the sky, the conditions changing abruptly. She thought she saw a flash of gold in them that could be the snitch, yet she knew she must'nt catch it because Gryffindor needed an extra one hundred points, but if she could divert Malfoy. So she went in the opposite direction, Malfoy following her. Malfoy did not catch on to the fact that Ginny would have to be leading him away from it.

Snape down below watched with increasing annoyance at Draco's lack of awareness. Finally he boomed, deep voice echoing throughout, "Draco...Keep away from her. It's a diversion!"

Draco looked embarrassed as comprehension dawned on his face. He shot a glance at his father in the private compartment. He looked angry and Draco shot away determined to make his father proud.

Once again, Gryffindors' scores made them with forty points and the Slytherins a sorry ten. The game started to get much dirtier. The Slytherin chasers were following Seamus and Demelza now ruthlessly on their tail. One Slytherin chaser caught up to Seamus’s side and roughly cobbed him or in other words, used his elbows to try to get the bludger free. Seamus kept it in his arms. Valerie found it strange that even if she was not near the quaffle, nobody was tagging her.

But then she turned around, and was almost knocked off her broom by the force of Damion Bulstrode, who was flanked by his sister, both carrying clubs and grinding their teeth. It was a non-foul move though, and they followed her as she sped closer to the other chasers and then followed the trail of the quaffle soaring back into the pitch after Demelza scored. Before they sped away from her, Valerie noticed Damion had a salient bump on his head, probably a mark earned from his time in the dungeons.

By now, the Slytherins were getting pretty nervous that they could actually lose. So they started to chant simply, “Gryffindors are losers! Gryffindors are losers!” Valerie was trying hard to ignore it, but it felt like it was drilling into her eardrums.

In irritation, she turned to Damion. “How’s your bum?” she had the nerve to say, despite him carrying a heavy bat in his hand that he could easily clob her with and was probably mad enough to do.

“What?” said Damion. He truly hadn’t heard it, for it was too loud with all the screams, cheering, and everything going on.

Valerie smiled meanly and said with hilarity, “How’s your bum after the headmaster caned you?”

“Shut your trap, Powers,” said Damion, as his sweaty face reddened slightly. “I’ll be messing with you later.”

And he sped off with Millicent, who had heard from Damion’s friends about the episode with Snape. Seamus and Demelza came up Valerie's rear at the moment. “Come on, Powers. Hawkshead formation!” said Demelza.

The three chasers sped towards the goal, knocking other players away including Damion and a Slytherin chaser. Seamus had the quaffle and managed to score. “Ooh..Perfect throw Mr. Finnegan. Gryffindor in the lead. Fifty to twenty,” screamed Mcgonagall.

A little while later, the game got even closer. Slytherin had scored another goal and now needed either the Snitch or ten more points to win. Draco was lazily soaring around, barely keeping his eyes on Ginny. The Slytherins continued to play, full of foul moves, mostly blagging or in other words, excessive force with the elbows and yet Snape did not give them penalties and neither did he award Gryffindor a free shot.

Valerie was lucky as she was about to score the crucial shot to get to one-hundred points and then they would only need the Snitch or the equivalent points to win. She was holding it lightly, and about to aim it toward's victory, when out of nowhere one of the Slytherin chasers stole the Quaffle straight out of her hands.

"Hey!" Valerie screeched.

And then a second later, Mcgonagall was screaming, “One-hundred points…AND…Gryffindor wins!”

Valerie turned around shocked. Ginny had just caught the Snitch, right underneath from Draco, her quicker reflexes had snatched it before he could. And also at the exact moment Ginny’s hand closed on it, the Slytherin managed to score the Quaffle through the Gryffindor’s goal posts. Slytherin had attained the forty points needed to win the cup.

Mcgonagall watched in horror and then retaliated desperately, “Gryffindor still wins!”

At this announcement, a disheartened Damion threw his bludger straight at a group of First Years in the stands, pummeling two of them. They fell back, knocked down and unconscious. A screech like chalk on a blackboard erupted from the Gryffindors at this treatment. Mcgonagall trekked wearily over to the two children.

Snape blew his whistle and gestured with his hands for both teams to speak to him. At once, their feet hit the ground hard and they all walked towards him. Ginny had her elbows on her hips, broom tucked under one padded shoulder. She looked just as haughty as her mother can be.

“You have to give us additional points. That beater on the Slytherins just committed bumphing,” said Ginny. Bumphing was what Damion had done, aiming his bludger at innocent spectators.

“Yes,” Seamus said, supporting Ginny and glaring at Snape. "You do!"

But Snape was not listening to them. For at that very moment, two sides of the stands were shouting. Deafening roars of “Gryffindor!” was mixed with harassing screams of “Slytherin!” Both sides believed it was their right to secure the cup. Snape paused, watching them intently. Valerie looked at him and realized it was impossible to tell what he was thinking as he considered what to do, the suspense mounting at what words the headmaster would give.

Finally, Snape tipped his wand to his throat at the same time a nasty smiling curled his lips. “Quiet. I was referee of this match as well as I, being the headmaster. It is upon my authority only that the outcome is determined…” There was angry jeers and hisses from the Gryffindor’s at Snape’s dictator-like approach.

“So…since the Weasley girl stole it right out from under the other Seeker’s nose…Just before he was about to grab it…I award ten points to Mr. Draco Malfoy, and to be fair, his team and the Slytherins shall be taking the cup at tonight’s feast!” This was a summation by Snape to ensure Slytherin would surpass the points needed to win the cup and therefore end the dispute, (however wrongly it may be) over who won.

The Slytherins cheered in triumph and some rushed down to the pitch to congratulate their team. The Gryffindors cried out in dismay and reluctantly made their way to leave the pitch, too humiliated to stay.

Draco extended his hand for Ginny to shake a gloating smile on his face. Ginny shrugged and turned her back away from him. Jimmy Peakes, a beater on the Gryffindor team said, “Ginny doesn’t have to shake hands with you. None of us are going to shake on it. This was totally unfair!”

Draco boomed unwisely, “Yeah, you Gryffindors ARE losers! Sore losers!”

And suddenly, as these things tend to happen in a mob, fighting broke out faster than dominoes falling and nobody could identify who started it if anyone in particular. Damion took a swing at Ritchie Coote with his beater’s bat and knocked him to the ground with it, and then went looking for another student to attack.

And Valerie had her wand out now. The air seemed to crinkle with anger, and a clap of thunder was heard from above. But nobody was paying attention to the weather. All around her people were fighting, the Gryffindors couldn’t take anymore, and the Slytherins were incensed too.

People were screaming almost like a battle and spells were flying to mix with a few flashes of lightning. All one hundred Snatchers were immediately alerted to the danger. They were seeking out their Chief for further instruction.

Stunning spells were mostly flying all over the pitch and as one it seemed, most of Dumbledore’s Army came clambering over the stand seats, and stampeded on the grassy lawn with the Slytherins at the other end rushing forward. It was like two opposing sides clashing in battle. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were joining the Gryffindors.

Snape rose up in the air on the broomstick to protect himself, yelling “Stop this at once!” His words had no effect or meaning and Snape was quickly growing the angriest he had ever been in his life.

The mayhem continued to rise dramatically. Even the Carrows were busy literally beating Gryffindors to a pulp with their fists after doing a spell to immobilize them. Valerie was doing an excellent job at stupefying Slytherins and keeping herself protected at the same time.

But one Slytherin came after her, and before the Slytherin girl could finish her spell, Valerie shouted "Protego!" A shield was conujured like a silverly wall between them. And she went on to the next one to fight, feeling a wild euphoria.

Scabior, wand raised and looking left and right for his men, whilst hoping no students would attack himself said, “Where’s Snape off to?”

Another Snatcher, pointed feebly above to where Snape was hovering in the center. The Snatcher murmured, "Apparently he can’t control them. These kids need a firm hand…”

“It seems they already get one!” commented Scabior. “Send in reinforcements!”

“Yes, sir!” answered the man and he was gone, fleeing from the pitch.

It might have been that the sadistic harsh new atmosphere of Hogwarts had sowed a new breeding for violence. Scabior watched the problems escalate and came to the conclusion reinforcements could never quell the fervor in time before it got too bad, both forces were acting collectively and blood-thirsty, almost murderous. He watched Pius Thickness and his bodyguard run by, the minister covering his head and running for his life.

Finally he ran around yelling at his men who were fighting with the students, only managing to disarm a few, as they would not hurt them too much or kill them without the order to. “Send out sparks fire…SPARKS FIRE!”

The men seemed to all respond mechanically, catching the order from everywhere in the pitch. There was an explosion detonating, as the Snatchers aimed their wands at the crowds. A melee of thousands of sparks came from each of their wands. People fell down from it and screamed, blinded temporarily by the sparks. It was exactly like a magical tear gas.

Snape took advantage of the mob weakening and came down to the ground again, tipping his wand to his throat. “Slytherins! Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs! ALL of you: the Great Hall now or I’ll be calling on the Dark Lord!”

Snape wasn’t sure if he would call on him but if they didn’t stop he would have to. After reacting to more screams at the idea of Voldemort coming, the crowd followed the headmaster off the pitch, many of them still momentarily blinded by the tear gas, and so had friends guiding them. The Snatchers were left to handle the remaining fraction of students who were unconscious from a spell or a beating.

The ones right behind Snape were cursing and complaining the loudest. One of them spat onto Snape’s green and silver dressrobes. He turned around to see whom it was, eyes flashing. But he knew it was hopeless to even ask or say anything, so he turned back as they made their way to the castle. They all laughed cruelly and found it hilarious he didn’t know who spat on him.


*

Fifteen minutes later, most of the school had returned into the Great Hall. And yet nearly all of the teachers remained outside. Mcgonagall was too furious with Snape for letting Slytherin win so easily, and Slughorn remained outside the hall to console her. She couldn’t stand to watch what would happen next. The Carrows wouldn’t step foot in the Great Hall for they condoned the skirmish glorying in any student they managed to beat in the fight.

Snape did not have to call the room to order or anything. He swept in front of the students all seated at the four long house tables and stood in the center on the staff platform. He did not say anything but glared with a gaze of scorching intensity at everyone at once. But it wasn’t perfectly silent; towards the front tables some of the younger students were letting out muffling sobs.

“This game marked the end to the Quidditch season, the Dark Lord wanted it to end early and so it shall,” said Snape very quietly, but still using a sonorous charm, but it was a loud whisper.

“And this match marks the end to the point system…. It is all because of Gryffindor refusing to accept defeat that– that abominable display of frolicking muggle fighting mixed with uncalled for wizard duels took place out there!,” and Snape’s robes swooshing dramatically, pointed towards the arched windows on his left.

Outside there was a hailstorm going on and little balls like ice cubes were falling onto the roofs of the castle. Yet nobody was really paying attention at the moment to this.

“The House of Gryffindor…House of those who are brave and noble?,” he sarcastically purred. Suddenly Snape yelled so loud it could be heard outside the castle, “HOUSE OF IMPULSIVE IMBECILES!”

The words rung around the hall and the Gryffindors frowned as one. Snape stared them down and saw many of them were sporting injuries, cuts and bruises and things from the recent skirmish. He could care less.

“GRYFFINDOR!” boomed Neville Longbottom defiantly roaring like a lion. It was so unexpected and reckless and it was really a very stupid, foolish thing to do, considering that Severus Snape was more angry than he'd ever been in his life.

Snape waited a second and before any retaliation could start he spoke. “Neville Longbottom, come up here. To the platform.”

Neville’s face paled, but then he was standing at once. He stomped over to Snape and stood on the platform beside him.

“Shall I make Mr. Longbottom an example, illustrating the idiocy of his house?”

But Neville was braver now and could not be bullied by Professor Snape. He looked back at the crowd and shouted, “Dumbledore’s Army!” Instantly his troops rallied, including Valerie. She was shocked and deeply disturbed at Snape’s authoritative use of his power.

“Silence…get back to your place, Longbottom," he said, feeling disappointed. For Snape realized he could no longer bully Neville like he'd once so indulged in.

"Dumbledore’s Army…I can’t stand those recruitment signs, the school is in a shambles enough already and does not need a Gryffindor’s tasteless graffiti on the walls!”

At these words, there was finally from the Gryffindors a cascading of deep booing. Snape ignored this speaking again, “Gryffindor is officially the losers of the year.” And Snape raised his wand at the four hourglasses behind the staff platform.

“Deprimo,” and the thousands of Gryffindor rubies came smashing to the floor falling like hundreds of shard of glass in a pounding deluge. Snape happned to catch a glance of Valerie in the back table of Gryffindor. He saw her hard-staring blue eyes on him, blazing like laser beams.

And suddenly Snape was a popular headmaster. Well, only with the Slytherins. Cheers broke from the Slytherin table, some of the loudest cheers of triumph ever heard from them.

Snape smiled meanly. “Slytherin is victorious…” and Snape clapped his hands once and the Hogwarts banners appeared hanging above the tables, and they were made into the shining Slytherin green and silver hangings with serpents.

Cheers mixed with dissent continued and the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs looked very unhappy Slytherin had won. Most of them were torn between polite clapping for the reality of it, or booing or at least frowning with the Gryffindors.

“Slytherin has won. Blood purity has won. A triumph we haven’t had in over eight years!” said Snape filling with glory for his own moment being born, and none the less while he was in charge of the school!

“Now, prefects... you will escort your houses out of here with a civility and decency I expect from the students of Hogwarts. There will be no feast…House-elves will serve dinner in the common rooms. You are all under house arrest…Only the prefects and the Head Boy and Girl may go out for their duties. Clear out!”

The Slytherins looked a bit dismayed that they were not spared the punishment of house arrest for the rest of the evening. As Valerie was walking back with the Gryffindors she hoped Dumbledore’s Army would be able to make it to the Room of Requirement.

Ginny nudged her elbow from behind and she turned around. “Don’t worry…We’ll find a way as Dumbledore’s Army to get old Snape and his lot back…We should have won the match and the cup!”

Neville was there too and he muttered to Valerie and Ginny, “Of course Snape had to favour the Slytherins like he’s always done!”


Note: This game does have a part in the plot as it’s setting up a conflict that occurs between Valerie and Snape…don’t worry nothing to damage their relationship…but there is a conflict. Please review!