The Hiss of Education
One might've been mistaken for thinking dementors were attacking, so miserable was the sight. The true status of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was worse, on every level.
Unbroken silence blared across the remains of what was once the courtyard that could barely be called such anymore. Time had passed since even one aspiring young sorcerer had trod along the cobbles, their mind likely filled with thoughts of the day's homework and Quidditch. Dr. Fillibuster fireworks had snapped and cracked wildly here, and the children had smiled and laughed. They'd laughed. It was something seldom seen in this dark era. Now the pitiful place was strewn with rubble, the odd bone here and there bleached white by dark magic. The scent of death lingered and intoxicated, driving most life far away to watch in fear from the forbidden forest.
Nearby was the great hall; it's magnificent ceiling had once been bewitched to look like the sky. This had been proven unnecessary once the roof had collapsed in a thunderous boom, shattering anything beneath it. Through the dense cloud cover, a bleak light found the castle, and in it could be seen something dreadful. A large object was curled up around the hall. Black scales were outlined in a bottle green, stark against the ruinous place. The snake-that-was-no-snake shivered in its rest. Someone stood at the arched gateway to the hall. He was shockingly white, draped in an elegantly simple black cloak with dark wool strings that tied around his throat to give shape to a basic hood. Voldemort's blood shot eyes surveyed the scene, the dark red, slit shaped irises fixing intently on the basilisk.
"Greetingss, my friend," The dark lord drawled in a slow hiss, not a hint of enthusiasm reaching his lips. Only he, as a parseltongue, could contact the beast in this way. "I hope you are prepared for what awaits us."
Diralubris' gargantuan head rose as his piercing eyes opened, beholding his master. "My lord," It rasped, "It is your followerss that must ready themsselvess, not I. Never I." This answer seemed to satiate Voldemort, who's mouth curled into what might be in the region of a smile. He stepped across the hall purposefully, his bare feet making a slack tapping on the rock floor, and made his way to the table at the far end of the room.
A wand was in the air, held there by his gaunt right hand which gripping it tight while his sharp finger nails dug neatly into it's handle. It was still for a moment, and then moved to point at the tattered remains of a dark mahogany table. This had been the same table that had hosted Hogwarts' teachers, if his memory served correctly. One such as him need not make utterances when casting magic, of course, and the words passed swiftly through his mind before instantly manifesting themselves. Reparo. The pieces of the large table that had been scattered around the room flew towards where the wand pointed, and Diralubris coiled up, clearly unsettled by shards that had been beneath him when the spell was cast. Voldemort looked at the table, admiring his work before he pointed his wand four times at it, and four chairs gracefully came into existence behind it. They all matched the table in appearance, but the one in the center was large, padded green and elaborately carved with vipers.
Once Voldemort was comfortably perched upon his seat, he gazed at Diralubris. "I'm afraid we will only be receiving a few guesstss, my friend. I ssay they are trusstworthy," At this, he released a barking chortle, which must have passed for laughter from him. "None are trusst worthy, but I musst make do… Nagini iss returning, I feel it." and sure enough, the dust in the air shifted. A large amount of it turned jet black, as if on fire, and flew at Voldemort. It swirled into a long spear shape as it fluttered across the long hall and made it right to the dark lord before coalescing into Nagini's familiar form and unceremoniously thumping down on the table in front of him. "Your guestss have not arrived, My Lord?" the new arrival toned, a luminous, red eye glinted eagerly, "Is punisshment in order?"
"Not now, my dearest, I musst have them at their mosst loyal for what iss to come."
A jet of dark smoke whistled in the sky above, and Voldemort looked ahead, his view absolute and unwavering. A lanky man entered, striding swiftly towards his master as his tatty cloak dragged on the ground. "Word of your success has reached the world, My Lord. True victory is within your grasp." Snape bowed solemnly as he arrived at the table, before casting a tentative look at Duralubris. Voldemort considered him silently, then looked forward once more. When Severus was seated, another guest entered.
Bellatrix half danced, half stumbled into the room, a maniacal grin on her face. She bent down and rubbed the floor with her hands, sniffing it eagerly. A cackle ruptured the silence, and Bellatrix hopped up. "Hello Sweetie!" gasped the witch as she ran over to Diralubris. "You are beautiful!" Even her Master did not expect her to tackle hug the basilisk's enormous head. She tickled it's nose with her long, curved wand and it nuzzled her playfully in return.
Turning to her red eyed leader, Bellatrix Lestrange skipped uncaringly up the hall to her shouting song of "We got Howgarts, We got Hogwarts!" but when she reached the table, she froze. "You have done so well my Lord, you are the absolute, the magnificent, the true ruler of all," escaped her lips in the form of a fierce mumbling, and her face was serious. Bellatrix observed her Lord lovingly, wide eyed, and bowed before him.
Bellatrix joined him at the table.
Their final guest was white haired, and looked sleepless. He seemed to have lost some of his conviction, but held up a steady and defiant expression as he walked silently into the hall. Voldemort would make sure he was not planning anything treasonous later. Now, there was work to be done. Lucious bowed and sat in grievous silence.
"I am glad you have come. As you can see, we have made a great step forward in our plans by taking Hogwarts, though it was a close victory. We would not have reached this point without all of my followers, my own magic, and Diralubris."
"That snake has been bloody marvelous ever since he escaped from this place and joined us!" Bellatrix added on, gleefully.
"Yes, I must agree. From what I have heard of the story, Lockheart was about to enter it's chamber when he 'got stomach ache' and had to leave. I have, however, been told that he was there with the Potter boy, whom he had obliviated in his effort to take the credit." Lucious finished with a malicious smile.
"The correct version of the story is irrelevant," barked Voldemort. "Diralubris is my most loyal follower and I would not forsake him."
"We must ask, my Lord. Where do we go from here?" asked Snape in an emotionless tone, announcing each word with deliberation.
Voldemort smiled at him, revealing sharp, rotting teeth.