Across the Quidditch Pitch

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Chapter Six: A Burden of Conscience


There was one mistake he made; the biggest one he’d ever made and it hadn’t been on the O.W.L. The image of him hanging by his ankles in the beech tree eventually faded, his suffering ceased, as he knew it would even then. But the word “Mudblood” was sticking to Snape forever. Hours later, he berated himself for associating with the likes of Mulciber. Being around him had finally rubbed off and he wasn’t sure he was glad to know him. But that was another matter, for now all he could hear, like a cruel chant was his own voice, in his mind, where it uttered the racial epithet. “Mudblood! - Mudblood! – Mudblood!” It was like a cruel chant. He must atone for what he had done to Lily. He hadn’t meant to call her that! Really!

But he would have to wait. The first order of business was of course, abiding by the headmaster’s note to meet with him promptly at seven.

Along the way, Snape met up with Mulciber. While one boy swaggered with an assured gait, Snape seemed to be almost limping like a wounded animal. Already.

Mulciber glared at him. “Snape – would you relax? It hasn’t even happened to you yet.”

“Don’t talk to me,” he mumbled. “I’ve got to think on this…” And Snape felt a resurgence of dogged determination. He was still going to lie to Dumbledore. There was a spark of hope that he could get away with it. Get away with almost everything.

He hardly heard Mulciber’s slightly reproachful remark. “Fine. I won’t say anything.”

Mulciber and Snape got past the entrance, as Mulciber remembered the password from yesterday. It hadn’t changed since. “Giant Pygmy Puff.”

Once the phoenix stopped its journey, the staircase stopped moving. Snape felt grounded into the floor at being left stationary. It was all becoming too real. He was in trouble like never before. Mulciber knocked on the door loudly and it wasn’t long at all to wait until Dumbledore answered.

Both boys flinched as the headmaster raised his wand. A plain chair was transfigured into existence. Dumbledore slipped his wand back in the deep recesses of his robes. And with his other, a long, white finger beckoned to Mulciber.

Snape understood. Feeling a sense of terrible foreboding, Snape went to sit in the transfigured chair. Then again, it was nice of Dumbledore to conjure him this. The door closed softly in front of him and now he was alone.

It seemed like an age until Mulciber emerged. All was quiet for five minutes. And the silence persisted to ten.

Finally he thought he heard something. The tiniest whistling and a crack. Again and again. Snape sat rooted to the spot. It was becoming very uncomfortable to listen. He had not even thought of counting. Was that the sixth or the eighth?!

There was a haunting, resounding wail. It sounded like it was over. Snape waited for what seemed another age, listening to silence.

When Mulciber did emerge, he could not look at Snape. His face was hardened, concealing pain.

“You’re to go in," was grunted, and tore down the stairs two at a time. Mulciber was somewhat embarrassed, and despite the caning, was able to move with agility.

Snape looked back towards where Mulciber disappeared. He wished his friend gave him encouragement, or at least discussed how he’d coped and also, gave a summation of all that was said and done between Dumbledore. But what was he expecting of Mulciber really? Of course it wasn’t in his character to care for Snape like that. And besides, who’d ever cared for Snape like that? He felt indifference towards Mulciber.

He moved on towards the door and turned the brass knob. He didn’t know what he was going to face in there. But he had to, and he had to try to get past this, and hopefully get some kind of clemency for himself.

The moment he entered Dumbledore spoke, “Severus…Come here.” He wasn’t angry, but it was an authoritative tone nevertheless. Snape felt strange to hear the headmaster use his first name.

He came to Dumbledore at his desk and Dumbledore gestured silently for him to sit also.

“I’m sure you know why you are here…” Dumbledore paused. He didn’t like to see that the boy’s sallow face was turned upward, with eyes staring blankly above.

“Severus - I expect the courtesy of looking at me,” Dumbledore said a little sharply.

Snape forced himself to look at Dumbledore, and voiced awkwardly, “Yes – headmaster.”

Dumbledore paused a moment, looking at the boy with slight contemplation. The eyes were so black and deep. They reminded him oddly of the tunnels in the London Underground. In fact, there were a lot of things he hadn’t noticed about this particular Slytherin. Dumbledore felt a stab of regret.

“Mr. Snape….I am sorry I have not spoken with you in private before. I feel that monitoring things would have prevented you being here today….I should have kept a closer eye upon you.”

Snape wasn’t sure he understood this. But right now he really wished he didn’t have to look at Dumbledore. There was pity there, pity for himself and for Snape this was inexplicable.

And Dumbledore went on more pragmatically, “However, this occasion warrants serious review, and I am afraid, a severe action. We shall get to that later…First let us talk. Openly.”

Snape nodded. But he didn’t want to speak first.

“You may say whatever…. I would like to hear the full take on it from you. I shall not chastise you for telling the truth,” promised the professor. He sounded eager, as if this was storytelling time or something.

Snape’s lips pressed together. He felt crafty and more at ease. This was going a lot better than he’d anticipated. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so hard to lie to the great wizard. Now was the time to press his advantage. So he began, “Sir – er…. I have a confession to make….”

Dumbledore’s eyebrows rose. He was glad the boy was willing to admit this quickly, therefore Dumbledore would be lenient with his punishments, unlike what he gave to Mulciber.

And Snape was more confident. He knew how to act. “I never went inside the changing rooms. I hadn’t witnessed what Mulciber did to Mary! I ran away….” Snape focused on the visual memory of himself fleeing, but of course that image was after the event. But now he had just told Dumbledore it was before. A lie. He remained blank and calm inside, employing his Occlumency skills. It sounded convincing, even to Dumbledore. But still, it wasn’t possible to get everything past him. “However, Mr. Snape…You cannot deny you helped Mr. Mulciber plot the guile scheme. Can you?”

“No, professor. But I did swear to Mulciber, that I would never help him again! And I mean what I said!” Snape, his voice usually so low and controlled, was yelling. Snape expected the headmaster to take it as disrespect and to react in anger. But he did not. And Snape thought in partiality what he just said was true. Last night Snape told Mulciber another attempt at raping Mary Macdonald was too arduous to undertake again. It was out of the question!

“I am glad you are making penance. However, you should not have abetted him in the first place….And not only did you abet....I suspect you were also his accomplice. An accomplice in the very least, in the design of the dark plans.”

Glad to finally look away, Snape hung his head. However he was only feigning guilt. He did not feel a single shred of remorse for Mary Macdonald. Not yet. However, Snape felt a great sense of regret. He regretted the events in the changing room, because it had contributed to more of Lily Evan's angry admonitions.

“Now…With all times before yesterday in mind, to what extent have you practiced the Dark Arts?”

Snape’s head snapped up sharply. He had not prepared for this question.

“In other words, to what extent have you studied for instance, the Imperius Curse, Severus? Have you applied it to anyone or anything? This includes all Unforgivables and any other Dark Arts…”

“Er….” For the first time, Snape was at a loss to be a nimble fabricator of the truth.

“Think carefully…”

“What you must have heard from others is true. I studied the Dark Arts extensively, sir. Even before I came here, I was up to my eyes in it! But I have not used them on another person.” But this was another lie. Snape and his gang had tested both the Imperius Curse and Cruciatus on each other many times before. As well as the Killing Curse on animals, and in fights even the Cruciatus Curse was used on rivals in other cliques.

Dumbledore frowned. He was finally getting the distinct impression that Snape was lying. The bright blues irises bored into Severus’s dark ones. But his mind was blank and calm. Dumbledore was surprised. He’d rarely seen a student with such profound skills in Occlumency.

Dumbledore remembered his conversation with Mulciber the day before. He’d seen in Mulciber’s mind that the two had been reading a book together in the stands just before the incident. From this, he got an intuitive leap, a flash of insight. Softly Dumbledore ordered, holding his hand out, “Give me your schoolbag…”

Snape didn’t want to move. But a hand went reluctantly beside the chair leg, and he lugged the schoolbag over the desk. Dumbledore had to pry apart the clasp, for it was so full of books, it was fit to bursting.

He went through them, coming across the Potions text, and nodding. Nothing was wrong with these items so far. Having a tendency to notice every detail Dumbledore saw the inscriptions in the Advanced Potion-making book. “What is this?”

“Incantations. I invented them personally, sir.”

Dumbledore nodded again, “Impressive. Clearly you have a talent.”

But at the bottom of the pack, he shook irritably at finding just what he’d expected. “And what is this Severus?”

Dumbledore tapped the very book he and Mulciber had been reading at the stands. Snape stalled nervously.

The headmaster clucked his tongue with displeasure, and Snape's knees even in the chair wobbled, thinking of the punishment Mulciber had endured.

“These subjects are for serious study. It is not to be taken lightly at leisure…or worse as a joke.”

“I know, professor. I am sincerely interested in it, sir,” murmured Snape. He gulped.

“Control your interest in the Dark Arts!” Dumbledore barked sharply. “Yes, I see. I am aware you were reading this right before the attempt on Mary’s innocence!”

Dumbledore rifled aggressively through the pages, coming to a chapter that had every page dog-eared. The pages bore the same distinct handwriting that had been on Snape’s Potions text. Direct evidence that Severus was reading it closely.

The headmaster clucked his tongue again. “Severus…This is disgusting. I hope you do not have any fantasies like your young friend!”

“No, professor!” he said, trying to sound appalled. “Headmaster, I did not take the book out. Mulciber is a Sixth year, he’s allowed to. Isn’t he?”

“Unfortunately, in Mulciber’s case that is correct….” Dumbledore paused, deep in thought. He inwardly berated himself for having the Restricted Section at all. However, he would never close it, for part of being a wizard meant possessing an open mind. The Dark side was an inseparable part of life. Students should be prepared for anything. Encountering the worst was a strong possibility when they left this place. Especially now that Lord Voldemort was rising to preeminence. Dumbledore had an open mind towards exploration, even things that some may label "deviant". Yet unlike some others, he did not think it deviant to have a natural curiosity for these things. Reading it was acceptable, but actually doing them was another matter entirely.

“I shall be informing Mr. Mulciber. His privilege of the Restricted section is suspended for the rest of the school year. Not revoked, only suspended….” And Dumbledore became stern and said edgily, “I expect, this means I shall not find those books in your possession as long as you remain a Fifth year. Severus?!”

“Yes, professor.”

Dumbledore took the confiscated book out of sight, securing it in a drawer in his desk. Dumbledore would make it his duty to return it to the library later.

Dumbledore smoothed his hands over the desk, “Now…I suppose I was correct to presume your involvement, wasn’t I?” He sounded satisfied and assured. Snape had obviously been successful at the deception.

“I already admitted it,” said Snape. He was blushing slightly. He knew he was lying again, now indirectly. For Snape hadn’t told Dumbledore he was a witness. But he continued to concentrate on doing Occlumency anyway.

“I also gathered that you are lying to me, Severus…”

Snape felt a whoosh of sickening terror and shuddered. Dumbledore saw it and went on sharply, “You mistaken me to be more trusting or dare I say foolish than I actually am. I did not believe it for an instant when you told me you never performed the torture curse or the Imperius!”

Snape stared at the floor, finally feeling genuine shame. A sense of defeat washed over him, too. “Yes, sir. I’ve performed the Killing Curse many times as well. On animals, creatures and what have you. I did all these things and more!”

“Yes. I already knew this of you, Severus. You exaggerated the truth. I am going to have to be more….severe with you for it.” Dumbledore felt funny using the word “severe.” It sounded so much like the boy’s moniker!

“I have one final question to ask you…But regardless of your response, my decision shall not be appealed. Afterward, I am going to use the cane, Severus….”

Snape nodded, feeling total acceptance for his impending punishment. For Snape was very old-fashioned and firmly believed that pupils who stepped outside the rules should have a heavily handed punishment of a corporal kind. If he was headmaster, the cane would be used too. Yet everybody knew Dumbledore was a special Hogwarts headmaster who was a reformist. He banned the centuries old practice of whippings and chains in the dungeons. And it wasn't often that he caned his students when they came to his office in trouble. Most of the time he spoke kindly and then simply sentenced them to detentions.

The next question sounded like Dumbledore already knew the answer was affirmative and Snape felt a prickle of fear. “Were you interested in seeing Miss Macdonald suffer? Do you wish you had been there?”

The young face remained inscrutable, his eyes fathomless. Snape suddenly remembered Lily and his heart weakened at today’s events. Lily was hurt and Dumbledore was disgusted. It was too much a burden for him to stand! “I – I was there! I watched Mulciber attack Macdonald behind a curtain. And I got pleasure from it!”

Dumbledore seemed to freeze on the spot. It was a long moment before Dumbledore spoke. For the man was shocked, absolutely shocked that the boy succeeded in lying to him! That other lie had not gotten past Dumbledore, but this one somehow had.

Snape wished he could sink into the floor and disappear. Dumbledore looked dreadful. “You told a serious, terrible lie.”

Snape said tremulously, “My sincerest apologizes for deceiving you, sir.”

“Yes, and you should also realize what an egregiously disrespectful gesture it is. It was cruel to enjoy watching a fellow student being denigrated like that! You really are callous.”

Snape’s hands were in fists, the knuckles whitening from the pressure. He was embarrassed of Dumbledore’s discovery that he not only planned it, but also participated as an observer.

“However, I can admire your grit. Your attempt to deceive me was brave. For I have deduced that was your plan, was it not? To escape my retribution through these lies?”

Snape spoke carefully, “I thought I would get out of most of the punishment if I did so. I did not think I would be completely let off…Sir.”

“And so…I must punish you more,” said Dumbledore very seriously. “And apparently you are an exceptional Occlumens….”

Snape didn’t smile at this but he rambled, before he caught himself, “I thought if this worked, then I’d know. If I could lie to you, then I can lie to the Dark Lord.”

Dumbledore felt a stab of rage at these words. And now the boy was most unwisely implying he wanted to join the Dark Lord! Dumbledore actually grew cold, and sarcastic. “Very insightful, Severus. While it is true, that when I knew him, I realized…” He sighed. “Voldemort is probably the greatest Legilimens the world has ever seen….But today you are under my care. It is too bad a great Occlumens like you cannot be put to better use. Rather you act as merely a schoolboy would, using advanced magic to lie to his headmaster.” He added condescendingly. “I am sure Lord Voldemort does not care for using it in this particular endeavour. To him, it is trite insignificance.”

Snape nodded in agreement and stared glumly at Dumbledore.

“Do you know what makes me angriest of all?”

“Yes, I do,” said Snape quietly. Then he explained bitterly, “The fact I enjoyed watching her molestation! Isn’t it?” Snape paled, feeling sickened again. “I was only curious to see how it’s done!” He meant both how someone would rape and how someone would Imperiuse an unwilling individual.

Dumbledore shook his head. “It is your inaction that irks me like nothing else, Severus. You saw the Curse be put on the girl, you saw Mulciber move in to rape the poor child, and you did nothing….”

Snape stared hard at the floor, his face twisting into pain.

“I believe you may be a good person still. And yet, there are too many good people in this world who do nothing. I mean both the Wizarding world and muggle world. We are all the same. People. You would think that only wizards could possess the cunning, the ingenuity to do the most heinous crimes, including rape. It simply isn’t true….” Dumbledore stalled, remembering Ariana. “It is one of the greatest mistakes, that people can make. Standing by and allowing others to commit atrocities…Allowing evil to exist and doing nothing to eradicate it!”

Snape nodded dully. Dumbledore, he thought, may be trying to motivate and inspire, to spur him onto something. But it wouldn’t work. He felt nothing but apathy; a hollow emptiness mixed with a knot of anguish.

But Dumbledore had a much brighter attitude than his pupil. He was coming to an understanding of Severus Snape. No longer was he the enigmatic figure.

“I knew a man once….A young, charming boy. He’d been very popular at his school and very much twisted in his desires. He had many friends and was well liked. His name was Gellert Grindelwald.”

Snape’s jaw dropped. He was awed that Dumbledore had not only defeated Grindelwald, but had known him personally! He felt inquisitive. “Sir? You knew the Dark Wizard Grindelwald?”

“Yes, before he became famous we were quite close,” said Dumbledore fondly. He was smiling nostalgically now.

“But my point is this Severus: sometimes the popular, charming one can be just as bad or worse. There is no shame at all in being lonely.” Oddly enough, Dumbledore recognized a bit of the young Grindelwald in Severus. A similar darkness.

Snape crossed his arms over his chest. How Dumbledore had known this about himself he couldn’t ponder. Even he hadn’t realized this about himself! He was lonely. Determined to be friends with people like Mulciber, Avery, and Lucius Malfoy because he thought they were the only ones who understood him. The ones who made him think he belonged to something. But Dumbledore, he understood him too. It was new and unsettling. Snape didn’t know what to make of it.

“I repeat: it is not the worst state to be lonely. You can find comfort and courage in it.”

Snape felt to be in a stupor. He didn’t know how to appreciate Dumbledore’s sagacious advice. After a dragging silence, Dumbledore rose wearily.

He cautioned, “I’d rather give you a mark on your backside, then hear you’ve taken the Dark Mark in future. Perhaps this will somehow steer you away from that course. I am not oblivious to the three of you. You all hold aspirations to serve Voldemort. It saddens me how young people these days are so caught up in his grandiose ideas. They are vulnerable to his lies.”

Snape listened, interested. But then his face whitened. Dumbledore walked away, and strode over to a cabinet in the back of the room.

An enormous wave of guilt washed over Snape, when he saw Dumbledore take out the implement. He almost didn’t need to feel the sting of the cane. He already felt bad enough. But Snape thought that as a student he certainly deserved a good flogging for disrespecting his headmaster.

He barely got to glimpse how thick and long the rod was until Dumbledore said evenly, “Kindly place yourself across my desk. Across my desk and you must have your trousers dropped.”

Dumbledore said it evenly, even with a slightly pleasant smile. He might have been remembering his schooldays, a century ago and the few times he'd gotten a caning or even a whipping or two on the bare. And Snape automatically did as he was told. First removing his black school robes. His fingers shook as he undid the zipper, and let his pants fall to his ankles. This reminded him painfully of the incident today by the Black Lake. With a wave of his wand, James had managed to remove and actually steal his underwear when he hung upside down in the beech tree. But this was, perhaps more humiliating.

Still he was certain the headmaster wanted him to be punished on bare flesh. So he forced the briefs to cascade to his ankles as well. He didn’t want to show such weakness. Not so soon. And he hoped desperately that he wouldn’t cry out or produce tears.

It was awfully exposing to know his rump was poking out over the edge of the desk. To make matters worse, the portraits were whispering together about it. Soon it'd be all over the school that both Severus Snape and Maxwell Mulciber had gotten a caning in the Headmaster's study.

Snape’s face was ashen with a mixture of regret, hot shame and even budding remorse for Mary. He wished he hadn’t aided Mulciber.

Dumbledore tested the cane, letting it whistle through the air. Snape got the impression that it was very springy and flexible. He knew from this in an instant, that it would hurt like nothing he’d ever had besides the very brief seconds under the Cruciatus.

Dumbledore tapped the cane against Severus’s buttocks. Dumbledore surveyed through his half-moon spectacles that the boy's two lobes were nice and smooth with a firm roundness. Dumbledore was even more pleased and relieved by the sight of them. It was good to know, that although Severus was thin and scrawny he had a stout enough posterior to endure harsh blows.

Snape tensed his backside, so that his buttocks grew even more taut. Inwardly he clenched the innards of his stomach, hoping he wouldn't toss up dinner.

“A good caning should put your desires for the Dark Arts under control.”

“How many strokes am I getting?”

“Hmm...If you had not so blatantly lied, perhaps only four or five. But because you were dishonest, it is ten strokes, Severus. The fact you used magic against my good will, offended me deeply.

“I expected greater integrity from you, more rectitude on your part. Might I impress again, how very disappointed I am in you, young man.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And I must warn this hurts much more than your father’s belt ever could. Do not get up, or you will receive extra….Severus?”

Snape was shocked. How did Dumbledore know that when he was small, Tobias had frequently belted his arse, especially when drunk? Dumbledore did not know that he had investigated his home life, having known his mother, Eileen.

“Severus?! I also expect you to count them.”

“Yes, sir.”

There was a few seconds of lingering and then Dumbledore raised the cane. Thwack!

For the most transient instant, it seemed not to hurt more than a hard thump. And then the real pain hit. Stinging and burning and he quickly announced, “One, sir.”

Again and again the black rattan cane impacted him. By the fourth stroke Snape was becoming seriously nettled by it.

Thwack! “Ffff-five, sir!” For a second he had felt like cursing, but he had stopped himself. “Halfway there,” said Dumbledore between strokes.

Snape’s hands tightened over the edge of the desk at the last second before until, Thwack! The stroke fell straight on his thighs. He grumbled a low groan.

Dumbledore tapped the cane restlessly against his buttocks, reminding the boy it wasn’t over. He didn’t want to give more strokes or else the boy would have too much difficulty later.

“Six, sir.”

Thwack! The cane came down again and Snape managed to say the count. By now bright red stripes, with slight indentations were all over his buttocks. Snape could feel his knees unlocking.

Thwack! “Eight, sir.”

Thwack! At the ninth stroke, Snape could hardly register that tears were slipping out the corners of his eyes. Subdued by now he merely whispered, “Nine, sir.”

Dumbledore himself felt relief that there was only one more cut to inflict. But surely Severus wouldn’t feel the relief until it was over.

Thwack! Severus needed a moment, and then he finally said, “Ten, sir.”

Dumbledore immediately left the boy to gather himself alone. Snape forced himself not to lie there. His hands were still shaking as he put his clothing back on.

Dumbledore finally returned to Snape, and they just stood there, boy to man. “I am surprised how stoic you were, much braver than Mulciber and some others I’ve had to punish like this.”

Snape nodded in assent, and gazed at Dumbledore, regarding him with a special deference now. He was wise enough to understand why Dumbledore was one to be respected, and that is exactly what Snape felt for his headmaster now, great respect mixed with a healthy dosage of fear.

“I am assigning you detentions with me for the rest of this month. Twice a week. Mr. Mulciber has also been assigned my detentions, but you will each attend separately.

“And I will be keeping an eye upon you….I feel I should for your sake as much as others.”

Snape did not know whether to be glad or disturbed by the idea of Dumbledore watching him.

Alone, the great and powerful wizened Wizard felt unusually powerless. Sadly he snuffed out his candles with a snap of his fingers and a wave of his wand and went upstairs to bed. He felt disempowered for he knew he could not stop Snape, and the others from making mistakes like joining Voldemort.

Dumbledore felt fury in his heart as he made his way up the steps. It was heartrending for him to know that he could not force others to be righteous. That would only make him a tyrant. Dumbledore had long since learnt the lesson that you must let people, especially Witches and Wizards have their own free will. But should he have caned young Severus? The boy would not change from it....The Death Eaters were going to be his gang, his associates no matter what Dumbledore could do or say. Dumbledore came to the top of the stairs, guided only by moonlight, the rest of the atmosphere cloaked in darkness. Atrocities like rape would become the norm for Snape and Mulciber when they were with the Dark Lord. Ultimately, it would all be up to Snape's choices for what he'd do when free to go out in the world, the world beyond Hogwarts and the boundaries of even Dumbledore's powers....


Note: Please review! It took me awhile to write this.