The Dark Gryffindor

Please review! So here is the night of the battle of Hogwarts with a scene I believed happened as I wrote below, including the disturbing elements.


Chapter Thirty-five: Opening the Tomb


He had a bird’s eye view over the scene; Hogwarts was coming into view. He could see all of it, the school that had nearly become his own, or so he believed. He was going slower as Inferi were below him, traveling at his command. Evidently he had retrieved them from the cave he had just visited where he had discovered, to his great fear and terrible anger that the locket was missing. They moved surprisingly fast, their flesh squelching over the terrain. They did not lag, their flesh was supple and these animated magical zombies could move with startling agility. They would easily capture anything they wished to make their prey.

Dusk had long since descended on the sky and Snape was still waiting at the edge of the steps of the school, the great oak doors opened behind him. For the past couple of hours, he had watched the day die in a bloody sunset, going out in a blaze of glory, and then there was the quiet of twilight, until everything was reduced to utter darkness. In the distance he could see the Black Lake, shimmering even in the night. All the students had long since dispersed, giving he, the headmaster a wide berth. They were now inside, for it was the dinner hour.

Finally, he saw a tiny blot, a figure emerge from the skies. Seemingly out of nowhere it came into view, the glinting stars casting their light onto the figure. Making a dive it landed somewhere Snape could not see. Snape started towards the hills on foot, not daring to fly. For he was too afraid somebody would see him set off into the air.

Nevertheless, it was best not to keep his master waiting. So he started to go at a moderate jog, his teaching robes billowing behind him. He descended through the hills, all the while his wand in his hand, nonverbally casting Homenum revelio. He wanted to be sure no spies were present to witness the exchange.

Coming to the edge, he could see Voldemort and at once Snape was greeted by a shock. Filing into the water was hundreds and hundreds, possibly thousands of bodies. Snape watched them fall silently into the lake in small groups, where they submerged themselves. Yet occasionally one of them would skim the surface. It was a horrifying sight. A body would come floating up, gray in colour. They were like weeds of the lake. The shadows of the Inferi hovered over the dark atmosphere, ominously.

And then Snape looked towards Voldemort and felt another surge of dread. The snake, Nagini was at his side, slithering in the grasses like a long shadow. Yet Snape saw no reason why Voldemort would need to bring her. And Dumbledore had always warned him what it would mean for Snape once the Dark Lord decided to keep her close….

Snape stopped his trek. He stood motionless, alone with the Dark Lord in a short field; the Black Lake stretched out before them.

“My Lord – I came as soon as I heard. What is so urgent?”

“Severus, the boy is coming! I am sure of it. Harry Potter will be here this very evening.”

Snape’s eyes so blackened and hollow with concealed thoughts through his Occlumency, widened with genuine surprise. But he spoke blankly, and carefully, as if not reacting, “Ar-are you certain, My lord? Potter is returning?”

“Have I ever been wrong on such things?! You would do well to follow every precaution. Make certain he is captured when he arrives!”

Snape lurched back instinctively. Voldemort was in an unusually foul mood, even for him. Snape wondered what had set him off. Something was amiss, something was deeply aggravating his Master. The headmaster racked his brains, wondering what it could be. But he dare not ask what was troubling him.

Instead he spoke plainly, “Yes, Master. I shall.”

“For surely someone will be on the alert, someone will see him when he comes. Send a unit of my best Snatchers out here as soon as I am done with you, and place them on the towers where he will be easily sighted,” Voldemort commanded.

Snape assented to the order and waited for Voldemort to divulge whatever other intelligence he had for him.

“And Severus-,” said Voldemort sharply, succeeding at getting Snape’s utmost attention. Snape stared into the red eyes, glinting in the dark. “I must have the Room of Requirement heavily guarded. Nobody except the guards and you, as my spy is allowed near the place.”

Once again, Snape got the distinct impression there was something that Voldemort wasn’t implicating. He abided, promising his master he would adhere to the instructions.

Voldemort looked calmer suddenly. By discretely warning Snape, he believed that at least that particular Horcrux was safe. “You are certain nobody is watching us then?”

“Of course, My Lord. I checked prior to speaking to you.”

Voldemort raised his wand and cast a powerful spell over the entire vicinity. Over everything that could be seen and more he, checked for the presence of others. “Good…Then leave me. I must prepare my Inferi.”

Snape bowed and with a departing farewell said, “My Lord.”

Voldemort watched Snape disappear up the hills and trusted he was gone. Voldemort was now completely and utterly alone. With unusual vigor he traipsed rapidly across the field, coming to a large stone hedge, white in colour.

He hissed in Paraseltongue, “Nagini, my sweet…Here is the answer. With what lies inside, I shall be more powerful than ever. Indestructible!”

Voldemort’s face morphed into a wide and bestial smile when a slab of stone fell open at Voldemort’s magic. It landed with a soft thud in the grasses. Voldemort eagerly entered to raid Dumbledore’s tomb, his spidery hands running over Dumbledore’s body, feeling for something.

But before he could extract the thing he so desperately wanted and needed, there was a cold draft coming in through the cracks of the tomb between the dirty walls. Voldemort looked around in alarm, feeling some measure of fear. Could it somehow be in death that Dumbledore’s ghost could come here and witness this disrespect? But Voldemort past off this fleeting thought, recalling his belief in the permanence of death. Dumbledore could never return.

He searched the pockets of the gown Dumbledore was dressed in, purple satin robes with silver stars that still swaddled his body, and they had been the clothes worn for his funeral. His body was feeble in death, shrunken. Nowhere near a replica of the power he had once vested as a wizard.

Voldemort was somewhat surprised by how insignificant the man looked now. But greedily, he groped in the darkness, ignoring the worms and other parasites that infested the place. With his former wand he illuminated the tomb with the Lumos spell. And finding Dumbledore’s wand, what was now his new wand, he slid it through his shaking fingers, a tremor of excitement coursing through his veins. He believed it to be the Elder wand, the very reason he was here, to rob Dumbledore’s grave.

As if affectionately Voldemort tousled Dumbledore’s gray hair and beard. “Worthless, pitiful old man….Look at what your legacy did to you. It brought nothing but death and destruction. Pity….”

And with aggressive force Voldemort pushed Dumbledore’s body down on the hard earthen ground inside the tomb. Opening his own robes, he proceeded to desecrate it. Holding the Elder wand tightly in one hand, the other held the corpse. Voldemort tore at Dumbledore’s purple robes and found the decayed member of Dumbledore’s former fertility and life.

He sucked at Dumbledore’s long member with a relish. And laughed, spittle spilling down the cruel lipless mouth. Soon tiring of this, Voldemort turned the body over and entered Dumbledore’s nether regions, including his backside.

The hole wasn’t very tight and with ease Voldemort rocked his hips, grinding in against Dumbledore. Apparently this brought Voldemort some relief for he was soon climaxing over the lifeless figure. He spurted a long stream of his ejaculation all over the body. And Voldemort felt a great sense of calm of restoration returning to him. The act had brought him some new feeling of control, that he had lost since discovering what happened to his Horcruxes this evening.

He continued to talk to the corpse as if he could hear him, “Snape may have cast the fatal spell that night on the tower, but it was I who brought about death! Farewell Dumbledore. It brings myself great consolation, even peace to know that I shall never see you breathing again!”

Voldemort leapt up from where he was lying in the tomb over the body. The wand held aloft triumphantly in his pale hands. Without bothering to close the tomb, Voldemort departed. Shamelessly, he left the tomb wide open.

And far beyond Snape had indeed watched some of this play out. Eventually he had turned away in the most profound disgust and revulsion he had ever experienced. Dumbledore had been this friend, yet this man, or whatever he was, the Dark Lord was not. Snape tried to ignore the burning pit of rage in his stomach as he climbed back up to the castle. Then he realized he was hungry and decided for tonight he’d take dinner in the Great Hall.

The smell of the lake water mingled with the smell of the dead all around the area from the Inferi. The black robed figure rose up into flight in the sky, fleeing the scene to look once again for Snape. And the Black Lake was below, deep and dark, as black as the night, full of the shadowy dead, their translucent forms waiting.


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