The Dark Gryffindor

Sjauthor: Thanks for reviewing last month. I am glad they escaped as well. They were all really very lucky. But soon I will be showing that the Carrows were not so lucky!


Alabaster Princess: I am glad you also enjoy this story and think it is good.


Please review! Or rate. It really helps me write faster.


Chapter Forty-three: Dark Arts Substitute




Severus Snape could not believe his luck, the Dark Lord ordered him to sit in for Amycus’s class. It was only to be for today, but Snape could not be more elated. He had never had the chance to teach the subject from the perspective he’d desired. Even last year, under Dumbedore’s tutelage he’d only been allowed to teach the defence aspects.

“Severus…Please don’t allow this to go to your head,” now urged the portrait. “I always feared, giving you the chance to actually teach the Dark Arts would bring out the worst in you. And now- this is a time where I need the best of you. It is indeed a dangerous time.”

Snape, who had been smiling as he put on his teaching robes, faltered. “I will try,” he finally said. But how could he know if he meant it? Dumbledore’s portrait had a point. He could go too far….


*


A half-hour later Snape entered his first class. Amycus’s schedule only had teaching for late morning and afternoon on Tuesdays. He wasn’t loud or demanding upon entering, but Snape stalked to the front in his usual gait, robes billowing behind him, until he abruptly stopped.

The class went silent at once. Snape nodded to himself. This was the kind of respect he’d always been used to as a teacher. He went over to the teacher’s desk for a moment and rifled through Amycus’s lesson book.

Unexpectedly Snape threw the itinerary down with a smirk. How redundant, he thought. Amycus was teaching basically the same principles every week, and with hardly a difference between the levels for that of a First Year and a Seventh year. And then, every fortnight was an exam, covering material from the texts, but on things the man hadn’t lectured on!

Ominously, Snape went over the candles that kept the room aglow. His hand went above the fiery flames and somehow the lights dimmed. The class stirred nervously from this gesture.

He almost simpered, in his exceptionally deep voice, “Good afternoon…”

Snape surveyed the class, dark, fathomless eyes glimmering. He could see Draco grinning at him sheepishly, sitting directly in the middle; his badge gleamed even in the subdued light. Valerie was not here, nor was a single Gryffindor. Snape felt a rush of glee that he didn’t have to deal with them yet. The class had only consisted of the Seventh years of Slytherin and Ravenclaw, the other two houses meeting at a different time this subject.

“Thus far…It is reasonable to say you have learned, if not mastered the Unforgivable Curses…”

The class held its breath on the edge of their seats, wondering what point Snape was driving at. It was true they had grown fond of the Killing Curse, using it on the feeblest creatures Amycus brought to class. For many, especially in the beginning it had been brutal and shocking to kill even animals and even some magical creatures. But eventually, near everyone developed a thick skin about it. So that by now, killing wasn’t like a crime anymore. It was a reality. Death was a natural, inescapable, and ultimately acceptable thing.

“Yes…However, even the Dark Lord requires more than mere demonstration of the Unforgivables. Have any of you ever attempted a more complex curse?”

The class shook their heads in unison.

“Yes. Of course, you have not. It is extremely dangerous and not something you would want to perform on sacred ground, such as at Hogwarts. Doing so may disrupt the flow of magic immutably…”

Inwardly, Snape wondered to himself if it had ever happened in the past. Voldemort might have wanted to and would certainly possess the ability.

“Curses are far more complex theoretically….Not only are they taught for the rote demonstration of Unforgivables."

The class shook with surprise. But Snape spoke as if this was all obvious. Yet the class was puzzled by this pronouncement. For months they had been indoctrinated into performing the Unforgivables, mindlessly until they could practically do them in their sleep. The idea of thinking being involved and not only an instinct was quite unsettling.

Snape stalked down the rows, his lined face pensive. He was about to divulge more of his lesson plan, when a Ravenclaw boy raised his hand.

“Yes?”

“Sir - Where is Professor Carrow?”

“Indisposed at the moment,” and Snape’s lips curled.

Draco shot an inquisitive glance up at the headmaster. “Why?”

Snape still smiled strangely, concealing the full truth. However he hinted, “It concerns the little debacle in Professor’s Carrow’s sister’s office. Yesterday, the Carrows made a grave error….Thanks to some foolish Gryfindors…. the Carrows are suffering for it.”

“Now….Do any of you know the logistics of fighting an inferi?”

Snape was met by blank stares and quickly realized this was going to be a very long day.

Draco confidently raised his hand and Snape felt a resurgence of pride for his Slytherins. At least somebody knew something. “The Imperius Curse, sir. That can direct the Inferi to do our bidding!”

“Or better yet the Cruciatus Curse…” sniggered Crabbe recklessly.

There was an uproar of conceding viewpoints on the Imperius Curse. Snape spoke over them sternly, “Quiet…Quiet.

“Once again you show me a startling ignorance when it comes to understanding curses,” said Snape rhetorically. Draco’s face fell, even though the snide rebuke hadn’t been directed at him.

A Ravenclaw girl practically stood up and started arguing, “But the Imperius Curse….is perfect, sir. It controls and manipulates the mind like nothing else can!”

Snape felt a tremor of disgust. All of these students were so pathetically brainwashed by the Carrows’ teaching methods. They were taught to abide by Voldemort’s mentality and it left little room for intellectual inquiry.

It was strange but as the class wore on and Snape explained the theory on the origin of curses since ancient times, his opinions on the Dark Arts changed. He had planned to have the class practice minors hexes on each other, but decided against it. Snape almost felt like he didn’t like the Dark Arts anymore, for it was horrific how lost everybody had become by learning under Amycus.

Meanwhile, the Carrows were above the class in the room at the top of the stairs, Professor Amycus Carrow’s office. Unlike his sister’s it was much more neat and orderly, and certainly not in the ruinous shambles hers had become last night.


Note: Please review. I have not given up on this story and never will. There is definitely no more than 15 updates left, probably less.