Disclaimer: Harry Potter will never belong to me. I can only wish.
I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed my last chapter, who had stuck with me and who gave me a chance. I wish you all a very merry Christmas.
Corporal punishment and angst down below. If it isn't your ideal thing to read, you can skip this chapter.
Harry watched numbly as Daphne Greengrass, with her beautiful pureblood etiquettes, walked on to the stage in the pale light and took Voldemort's hand gracefully.
Lord Voldemort's icy blue eyes glistened sharply as he took in everything about the girl, from her platinum blonde hair to her posture that flaunted power.
"Well done, Miss Greengrass. You did wonderfully," the Dark Lord remarked. "You've won. You've come through the whole competition, defeated two students older than you and come out on top."
The audience was thrilled, watching and waiting as the Dark Lord congratulated the victor.
"Thank you, my lord," replied Daphne Greengrass smoothly. "I'm honoured."
Voldemort smiled, genuinely, and kissed her on the wrist. Despite herself, Greengrass blushed.
"Without any means to boast, I am the most powerful Dark Lord ever known to history and yet… here I stand, deeply impressed by your undeniably lovely performance."
"Thank you, my lord," she repeated.
Lord Voldemort placed a casual hand on her shoulder, eyes drinking her up as if she was the brightest jewel he had ever seen. "Now…about your prize…"
Harry could see Daphne Greengrass stiffening with uncontainable excitement. He knew for sure the prize was bound to be huge. It had to be, for the Dark Lord to personally award it.
"Seeing as you already are a prefect, the bathroom rights may mean nothing to you." The Dark Lord smirked in good humour. "Do not worry. I have something better. Something you'll never expect."
He turned to the audience again. "As I have said before: tonight is history, but I never explained why. I do hope it is not too late."
He spread his hands apart. "I would like to think that everything bloomed from my new goal. What use is power when you have reached the ultimate level? My new goal is to train someone whom I tutor, thus passing on a bit of my power. I had been scouring the nation for a child…a child with unmatchable potential. And I daresay I have found her tonight…"
Harry saw Bellatrix in the shadows, her eyes bright and excited as she smirked at Snape who glared ferociously at her.
"Tonight, I shall take up Miss Daphne Greengrass, winner of the duelling competitions as my apprentice. It is not only a reward for her. After the headaches of my long search, I am happy to declare I have finally received my own reward as well."
Absolute silence. Absolute ringing silence.
Daphne Greengrass' neat composure gave way to disbelief. It was all too clear on her expression.
The audience was stunned. All of them. Every single person.
At the staff table, Professor McGonagall's face darkened into one of such, uncontrollable rage; she looked like she wanted nothing more to storm up and curse the daylights out of the Dark Lord. Darn the consequences.
Professor Sprout was clasping McGonagall's arm so tightly that the Gryffindor Head's teeth clinched in pain. Professor Flitwick was also restraining her, his tiny hands gripping frantically at her robes.
Harry's own eyes were wide. His hands were clinging onto the back of the seat in front of him so strongly that his knuckles all turned white.
Being Voldemort's apprentice had been the ultimate prize? And Greengrass was now, officially, the apprentice to the most powerful wizard of all time?
It was all so very unbelievable. To think that the place could have been his… he shuddered.
Harry took several deep breaths in an attempt to slow his racing heart. As if Voldemort controlling Hogwarts wasn't enough, his own apprentice was actually a student at Hogwarts.
The only two people that looked unsurprised were Professor Snape and Bellatrix. Snape, however, looked incredibly frustrated.
"Tonight, the whole school has heard the news. Tomorrow, the entire press and media will be printing it as the head page all over the country. And by the end of next week, Miss Daphne Greengrass will be leaving Hogwarts to study with me."
And that was how the evening concluded. Somehow, Harry still couldn't wrap the news around his head.
"What's with all the trunks?" Harry asked suspiciously. "Professor, why do you have so many trunks out?"
Snape stopped for a moment to regard Harry who was looking at him expectantly. Finally, he answered quietly, "I'm leaving, Potter."
"What?!" Harry's voice immediately rose. "Are you kidding me?"
"Watch your tone with me," warned Snape. "I'm completely serious."
"But why?" Harry spluttered. "And why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because, you are a despicable brat and I didn't want to tell you," Snape snapped sarcastically. "Obviously, I did not find out myself until a few days back, right after the duelling competitions. It's the Dark Lord's orders that I packed immediately. Bellatrix is also leaving."
"How will we learn potions then without a potions teacher?"
"There'll be temporary Professors hired to fill both our spots."
"Why so sudden, though?" probed Harry. "It's not like there's anything urgent. Besides, don't you have your daily lives other than being at his service all the time?"
Snape ignored the jab at Voldemort. "The Dark Lord requested that Bellatrix and I teach his new apprentice when he himself is unavailable. That way, he can ensure the speed of her progress."
"Oh," said Harry angrily. "So, basically he is willing to halt the learning of the entire school just so his new, precious little girl gets the best of everything?"
"Potter!" Snape roared. "What you say can easily be considered treacherous. Consider your words carefully before you spew them out!"
Harry would never admit it, but he did not want Snape to leave. His own learning had improved remarkably quickly under the man's careful watch. And he had formed a soft spot for the wizard.
"Fine," Harry gritted out.
Snape sighed, and rubbed his temples. "To be honest, I don't…entirely agree with the Dark Lord's plans either…but it is not my place to criticise. I'll be leaving in four days."
"That's not…very long."
"Long enough for us to properly say our goodbyes," said Snape dryly. "When I am gone and nobody is watching you, do not get yourself into trouble. Do not do anything inappropriate. Or I will make sure you regret it when I come back."
The atmosphere suddenly turned very awkward.
"Right."
"I'll see you, Potter." It was a quiet dismissal.
With a mixture of sadness and frustration in his stomach, Harry left Snape's office and ran down the corridors, his vision blurred by the slight wetness in his eyes.
Despite all his other qualities, Harry was still a Slytherin. Slytherins either got what they wanted…or they'd look for revenge.
Apart from the faint reluctance in his mind, there was nothing else to restrain Harry. If Voldemort wanted Snape then he had to be prepared for a little bit of inefficiency.
Harry ran through the school, and up and down the stairs in search for Neville Longbottom. Within two hours, he was plotting side by side with the Hufflepuff.
"Excited?" Neville asked Harry, as he sent out the students in different directions.
"Definitely," he answered. "I can't wait to see their faces tomorrow."
Neville grinned. "Carrow's expression will be priceless."
"Do you think they'll search for the culprits?" he asked.
"Yeah. Doubt they'll search that hard though. They'll most likely give up after a few days. We don't leave that much evidence."
Harry chewed on this information. "And the paint you usually use is easy to rub off?"
Neville nodded.
He smirked. "Well, I think they'll find cleaning up a lot more difficult this time."
"Let's go over our plan again… Alicia and Damon both head for the corridors. They act first, painting graffiti insults," said Neville. "After that, our second group; Laura, Abigail, Eric and Sophie, will decorate the bathrooms. It'll take them at least forty minutes to complete everything; there are a lot of toilets in this castle."
"And when everyone else gets back, it's our turn," Harry cut in. "We do the great hall."
Neville gave him the thumbs up.
"Any chance of them catching us?" asked Harry.
"Well…there's always a risk. But this is the middle of the night. Does Carrow strike you as the type that would eagerly patrol the school every night?"
"We have to take extra precautions," Harry reminded the Hufflepuff. "A quarter of Dumbledore's Army is out here tonight. I also have a feeling the Death Eaters will try harder to catch us tomorrow. After all, you said you've never done graffiti in such large masses, all over the school. And never with this type of magical paint."
"Fingers crossed everything goes smoothly."
They waited in the darkness for nearly an hour before the six students finally came back. One of the boys was grinning broadly. "Mission success. Carrow will have a heart attack tomorrow."
One of the girls smiled shyly at Harry. "Your idea was superb. They'll have a really hard time getting the messages off."
Harry smirked again. "Shame on them."
Neville congratulated them joyfully. Everyone was in such high spirits.
Afterwards, Harry and Neville set off to the great hall.
They hesitated at the staircase. However, when they stepped on it and no alarms came on, they grew bolder.
The paintings around them were all asleep, but even if they had been awake they wouldn't have done anything about the two boys. These portraits had considered this castle home for decades and more; they were loyal to Hogwarts, not to deatheaters. Although there were some new portraits that would not hesitate in reporting Harry and Neville to Bellatrix, they weren't the ones that surrounded the two boys.
Sneaking into the great hall didn't take long. Soon they were standing below the sky-high ceilings.
The hall, which had seemed so colourful and happy during the day now seemed old and dull from the lack of light.
Oh well. The walls would be flooding with colours soon enough.
"Harry, I'll take the left side. The right side is yours."
It was obvious that Neville was familiar with this process. He brandished his wand, took one amused look at the bare wall, and started writing.
Rainbow paint danced across the walls, curving into the bubbly, artistic letters of graffiti. Harry marvelled at the sight.
It was beautiful. Red paint streamed out and planted itself next to the purple. Blue paint mixed itself with yellow.
Without delay, the rest of the colours came alive, flinging themselves about like gymnasts, performing swirls and somersaults and little tricks Harry had never observed.
Purple exploded out of nowhere, black swarmed over the edges.
Suddenly Harry couldn't wait to start on his own wall.
What would he write? Abruptly an idea came to him. Wonderful, just wonderful. It was so befitting.
By the time he was done, it would be a masterpiece.
And it turned out it was.
"I'm finished, Harry," Neville called out.
"Really? Let me take a look. I'm done too."
Taking one peek at Neville's wall, he gasped out in delight. "Professor Carrow, we all sprung from apes but facts prove you didn't spring far enough," he read.
Harry cracked up laughing like a hyena. "Oh, Neville! That is so wicked! She is going to be very, very angry!"
The moment he started laughing, he couldn't stop. The more he thought about the message the funnier it seemed.
When Harry finally got his breath back, he grinned at Neville. "You are a genius, have I ever told you that?"
Neville smiled slyly. "If the students tomorrow are going to read this, we might as well let them laugh a little."
"Come read mine."
Neville went.
At first he seemed amused, but the further he read, the smaller his grin got, until it was replaced by a worried frown.
"So what do you think?"
Neville sent him a panicked look. "Oh my god, Harry!" he whispered. "Are you…are you mad?"
"Well," Harry chuckled. "Not since I last checked." His chuckles faded when Neville did not join in. "What's the problem?"
Neville gulped fearfully. "Harry…Harry, you can't be that oblivious. You haven't just insulted anyone. You've insulted Voldemort!"
"Yeah…so…?"
"Bellatrix and Carrow are never going to stop until they hunt down the person who did this and give him the punishment of his life. They'll be after your skin like two savage dogs! You're signing your own death warrant, Harry!"
"I don't think it's going to be that severe –"
"It is! Believe me, it is. You have no idea how cruel they can be. Do you want them to curse you until you're half dead?"
"We have to make sure they won't find us, then," said Harry brightly. He understood the risks completely.
Obviously insulting Voldemort himself would be more dangerous than insulting anyone else. But it everything went to plan, they wouldn't find him in the first place. Harry couldn't see why Neville was so worried.
"Harry!" Neville sounded like he was half in tears. "Clearly, you don't understand the severity of what you've done."
"You're right. I don't."
"Do you know who Bellatrix is? She is Voldemort's top lieutenant, his most loyal top-dog. He is her obsession. She's literally going to rip you apart when she finds this out."
Harry raised his eyebrows.
"And have you forgotten Carrow? She is the Headmistress. Think about how useless she'd feel if Bellatrix came up with a harsher punishment than her? Think, Harry. If she didn't come up with something harsher, Voldemort may think she was taking this issue too lightly and get offended. Do you really think she's going to risk that? She'd kill you first before she'd allow that to happen!"
"Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd be so upset about it," Harry said.
"Please," Neville hissed. "Use your head."
Harry was taken aback. The Hufflepuff had never struck him as the wounding type.
"Get rid of it quickly! Have you thought about the consequences? What if Voldemort himself sees this? He'll personally torture you. Imagine that. Or worse, he'll kill you."
"Umm…okay…" he muttered reluctantly, and picked up his wand.
No sooner had he done that did the loud sounds of pattering feet come from above them. It grew louder and louder until Harry feared it was only a couple of seconds before…
Neville froze, his eyes wide with fear. "They're coming! We have to go! Now!"
Harry was about to run after Neville, but he suddenly stopped in his tracks. "No, you go," he called.
"What?" Neville gasped. "Are you insane? You don't have time to clear your message off! Let's go!"
Harry remained stubborn.
"They'll come after us if they don't find anyone here. We won't even make it to the dormitories. They'll catch both of us! If I stay here, you'll have more time. It's better that they'd catch one person than two," he shouted.
"No way. You don't know what you're saying!"
"I do. I'm responsible for that message anyway." Harry gestured at the wall.
"But they'll blame the whole entire thing on you! The whole bloody thing, not just your message! You'll never survive this."
Harry smiled grimly. "I doubt it'll come to anything as serious as death. And if they want to blame me…so be it. It's better than them tracking the whole DA."
Neville hesitated still, his face a picture of pain. He was torn between morality and logic. "If you have to face torture, I should face it with you."
Harry snarled. "What is the problem with you Hufflepuffs? Have you no sense of self-preservation?"
Neville have a bitter laugh.
"Look, you're the DA's leader! Without their leader, the whole organisation will fall to pieces, all that you've worked for. You've managed so long without me. Will your DA members forgive you? You have to run for them if not for yourself. Go, just go! Or it'll be too late."
Neville took one long, sad look back at Harry. His logic had squashed down his emotions. "Good luck," he said. "I hope I'll see you again. Thank you."
Harry smiled in reply as Neville darted through the doors. All he had to do now was to wait.
Waiting was hard. He was tempted to run after Neville; he still stood a chance of outrunning the deatheaters. But he fought that urge. He would only have to wait for a few minutes at most.
It turned out that those minutes were longer than a century.
Inwardly, he dreaded what would happen next. He had not been concerned because he had not known, before, that he would be caught.
Harry looked at Neville's message. A terrible insult at Carrow. Suddenly it didn't seem so funny anymore. It was almost like a string of words condemning him to even harsher punishment.
And what if Carrow herself was coming down? What if Voldemort came down with her? Harry shook slightly; he could just imagine the cold anger on Carrow's face as she read Neville's message.
She'd then ask him whether he wrote it…and Harry planned to say 'yes'. He would be dooming himself, but what other options did he have? Betray the DA?
No, never.
Just as he came to this resolute thought, the doors of the great hall slammed open to reveal two figures dressed in black.
One of them was Carrow and the other one was Bellatrix. Two of the most savage deatheaters advanced towards Harry with their wands raised dangerously.
Bellatrix threw her head up, scanned the wall nearest to her and took in the insult directed at Carrow. "Oh, Alecto read this," she grinned maliciously. "Professor Carrow, we all sprung from apes but facts prove you didn't spring far enough."
Carrow's face darkened like a looming storm, her face contorted hatefully as she glared at Harry with so much loathing that Harry took a step back. "What a…daring thing to say. And you are supposed to be a Slytherin, Potter? I sense no attempt at preserving yourself…"
Harry closed his eyes for a few seconds and tried to keep his composure. The threat in Carrow's words was not even counted as veiled; she was threatening him outright.
"You did write it, didn't you, Potter?" Bellatrix demanded.
"Look at him!" Carrow said vindictively. "Out of bed and prowling the great hall with his wand out!" She gestured furiously at the wooden stick clutched in Harry's right hand. "Do you think it's a mere coincidence that the walls are painted with…with these?"
Despite himself, Harry felt fairly scornful at how Carrow could not find the poise to refer to the insults as nothing but 'these'.
Carrow stormed up to Harry and jabbed her wand underneath his chin while Bellatrix looked on with wicked amusement. She didn't seem to mind the insult directed at Carrow at all; in fact, she seemed to be having fun at the Headmistress's expense.
Harry stiffened as he felt the cold pressure on his throat; he swallowed uncomfortably, grimacing as Carrow dug her wand even harder into his skin.
"Tell the truth, Potter, or I'll force it out of you," Carrow hissed. "I know you did it."
Harry licked his upper lip, and with an unbelievable coolness, he gently brushed the wand to the side, away from his jaw. "Don't fret, Headmistress. I never said I didn't do it," he replied evenly, deliberately maintaining the casual tone of his voice.
The very next second, something solid collided unforgivingly with his cheek – creating a resounding whack that echoed across the empty hall – and he was suddenly lurching to the side, staggering to regain his footing.
Carrow, in all her sneering ugliness, was looming over him in spite of her shortness. "Watch your tongue, boy, don't make your fate worse for yourself. You've just confessed to your crimes which, I assure you, you will be rightfully punished for."
Harry collected himself and straightened, letting his arms fall to his sides; determined to ignore the tenderness of his inflamed cheek. "What crimes?" he asked innocently.
Carrow's teeth made a horrible grinding sound. "The violation of school rules, breaking curfew, damage to school property, disruption of the school system and blatant disrespect towards members of the staff."
Harry had been about to give a snarky reply, but Bellatrix had already cut in front of him.
"Alecto, calm down. You're making a fool of yourself," said Bellatrix sneeringly. "These insults can be easily erased –"
"These are lies!" Carrow spat out. It seemed that the graffiti had hit her fairly hard; she was seething.
Bellatrix jeered, "More like the truth. The boy merely stated the truth."
Speechless, Harry looked from one female to the other. Bellatrix's eyes glistened wildly, the only hint that she savoured from Carrow's lost dignity, while the Headmistress spluttered for breath. It didn't particularly seem like they were fond of one another.
"You, you - !"
Laughing openingly, Bellatrix stored her wand back into her sleeve. "Come, Alecto, it is late. We all ought to get back to bed. Tomorrow we'll assign Mr Potter a couple of detentions with Snape."
"What?" Carrow ogled like a dumbfounded parrot. "We're letting him get away with this? Tell me, is this setting a fine example for the other students? Rule-breaking equals a lack of discipline, discipline we provide them."
"How is detention 'getting away with this'?" Bellatrix said coldly. "Unless you're suggesting something else?"
Harry gaped at the deatheaters. He simply couldn't believe his ears, or rather, his luck. He was going to be let off with only a few detentions and a bruised cheek. This…this turn of events was amazing.
If Harry did manage to get away with this, he would have to remember to go and thank Neville for painting that message. Bellatrix was helping him for her own reasons, essentially as a method to aggravate Carrow – she really did seem to detest the Headmistress.
"The Cruciatus and a few nights in the dungeons seem fitting," said Carrow quickly.
"Forgive me if I personally don't agree," came the delicate reply.
"I'm the Headmistress and you are a mere Professor!"
Bellatrix glanced at Carrow. "And who do you assume holds more power? Who do you assume is in the Dark Lord's favour?"
"Potter painted the whole entire school!"
There was no response from Bellatrix.
She was staring in astonishment at the other graffiti. Harry's graffiti.
Harry's heart stopped thumping for a moment as Bellatrix's eyes widened until it seemed they would pop out of their sockets. Her jaw dropped in an almost comical way.
"Bellatrix? Do not ignore me," Carrow commanded irately. "What is it?"
Bellatrix turned around, and Harry could see her face was dark with unmatchable rage. Her hooded eyes flashed dangerously as she scrutinised him. Her lips twisted into a cruel leer. She looked alarmingly implacable as she bared her teeth at Harry.
"Bellatrix?"
The witch ignored Carrow, giving Harry her unwavering focus.
"You did it, did you not?"
Harry flinched and involuntarily took a step back. Bellatrix seemed more relentless than Carrow ever could hope to be. This wasn't just a dark witch teaching muggle studies.
This was the top-lieutenant whom had murdered hundreds while battling by the Dark Lord's side. Harry was powerless against her; he was nothing. If she wanted to…
In a flurry of dark hair and black robes, Bellatrix had launched herself at Harry, flying towards him like a king cobra in her venomous fury and knocked him heavily to the ground with her full weight.
One moment Harry was standing and the next, his head clouted on the floor. He wheezed dazedly, blinking up at Bellatrix whose daunting face hovered only a few centimetres from his.
"You insolent little wretch!" she hissed. "You rotten little rat! What do you have to say for yourself?"
Carrow was staring curiously at the two of them.
"Not – nothing," Harry choked out, gasping as Bellatrix rammed her elbow into his chest.
"I'll make you beg for mercy on your knees soon enough, if you do not die before that."
Harry struggled for breath as Bellatrix heaved him up by his collar. "You have such daring, such spirit. I'll look forward to crushing it."
Harry's head crunched back and he collapsed in yet another embrace with the floor as Bellatrix drew her hand back and dealt him a blow.
Carrow was observing all of this with a merciless grin of delight on her face. She was finally getting her revenge.
Lying face down with his body at an unnatural angle, Harry coughed.
"The Dark Lord shall hear about this…" Bellatrix said. "How dare you taint his great name with your filthy little message?" Her voice was thick with passion for her lord.
"With the 'your family tree should be a cactus because you are such a prick' comment, I doubt the Dark Lord will be extremely pleased," Carrow put in.
"Of course he will not be," snapped Bellatrix.
Harry was only too aware of his vulnerable state as the seconds ticked past and Bellatrix grew more and more furious. Somehow it reminded of the awful situation Ollivander had been in.
"I think a punishment is in order," said Carrow fervently, leering.
"Hmm…" came Bellatrix's answer.
Harry could only think of it as an agreement. His stomach clenched tightly, his bravado tickling away from him little by little.
"I think a few well-chosen curses and a few nights in the cells can cure Potter of his unfortunate rudeness and his tendency of breaking rules," suggested Carrow. "Of course we can only be –"
"I think," interrupted Bellatrix roughly, "we should do two things. Number one is to bring this matter forth to the Dark Lord and let him punish Potter himself. Number two is to decide a suitable punishment for Potter if the Dark Lord refuses to humour us."
Harry's jaws clamped together. Things weren't going to be pretty with Voldemort involved. He willed his body to force itself into a sitting position.
Bellatrix reacted with lightning fast speed and the next moment, Harry found her dragon heartstring wand pointed at him. "Don't move," she warned darkly.
"I won't," he muttered dryly.
"Then, if the Dark Lord doesn't want to waste his time punishing Potter, how should we punish him?"
An eerie glow came over Bellatrix's face and she smiled slightly as she answered, "I usually find pain mixed with humiliation to be the best type of punishment for offenders."
Harry stilled, sensing the unpleasant prospect.
"I say we deliver a public whipping in front of the school," said Bellatrix. "One doesn't just insult the Dark Lord and get away with it."
"Your fate awaits you in the morning."
With that, Harry was tossed into his cell and the door slammed close with a bang. He got to his knees and edged towards the darkest corner. He didn't want to be easily reached from the outside.
The floor was damp and moist, with a smell of decayed wood. There was no visible windows, no light. The air was slightly stifling and exceptionally cold. And the quiet scuffling of possible rats invaded Harry's sense of privacy.
He was downright miserable. It was stupid. He had gone through so much trouble to take revenge… but at what cost?
A public whipping? Corporal punishment? Death?
Presently, he was more worried about the humiliation than the pain. Harry could imagine it: him bending over with the whip slashing down while thousands of students played spectators. It would be a nightmare, a major degradation to his pride.
Malfoy would be delighted, he thought bitterly, so would Carrow. He almost wanted Voldemort to punish him instead.
How would Snape react when he learned of Harry's midnight adventure? Angry, frustrated, cheesed off, most likely.
Looking at the rusting iron bars, Harry wondered if he could break himself out. The tentacles of his magic flowed forward to melt the iron. When the two met, nothing happened. How disappointing.
Whatever his fate, he could only wait for dawn to approach.
"I hope I'm not interrupting you, my lord…"
Voldemort waved dismissively. "I do not need as much sleep as the average person, but I cannot help but wonder what you want so early in the morning. It is only five."
"Last night, a student was found painting graffiti all over the school in the middle of the night. He'd painted all over the school and with paint almost impossible to get rid of."
Voldemort raised a scornful eyebrow. "A common crime… and how does that concern me? Do not tell me you do not know how to clean the paint."
Bellatrix cleared her throat nervously. "No, my lord, it's not that. The boy painted an insulting comment directed at you, my lord."
The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed instantly. "How…foolishly brave. Does he not know there will be consequences?"
"Do you want to punish him yourself, my lord… or should we deal with him?"
"I'm too busy to discipline any student while my apprentice is still uneducated. How do you intend on fulfilling justice?"
"A public whipping."
"Really?" Voldemort's eyes sparkled in interest. "I've never heard of one of those at Hogwarts."
"Nobody had dared to insult you, my lord, until last night…" said Bellatrix. "Do you approve?"
"It's certainly very imaginative. And the whole school will be present? Yes? Then I do not see why I should not be there to watch too."
The door slammed open again, a figure came in and Harry was kicked awake. It was Bellatrix.
"It's eight in the morning, Potter. Time for the show. We wouldn't want to keep everyone waiting."
"What?" he said sleepily.
"You'll be whipped publically as the Dark Lord is not willing to give up his own time to correct your actions," said Bellatrix. "Every student is gathered in the school hall, awaiting your entrance. Even the Dark Lord will be joining us later."
He immediately was wide awake. "So early?" he asked in disbelief.
"You don't set the time, Potter, I do. Get up!"
Harry was jerked up by his collar and sent stumbling towards the door by a snarling Bellatrix. She pushed him out of his cell with the tip of her wand tucked at the back of his neck. "Get going. Not fully awake yet? Don't worry, you soon will be. I wonder what would happen when Professor Snape sees you like this; he has been informed of your misdeeds."
Harry's eyes widened in horror. "He's going to be there?"
If there was one thing Harry did not want Snape to see, it was him in his most defenceless state.
"Shut up and get going."
Moments later, they arrived at the school hall, jam packed with anxious students. As he and Bellatrix proceeded to the front, Harry saw the scared face of Neville Longbottom peek out at him.
Snape was sitting alongside the rest of the staff, the skin of his face drawn rigid. Professor McGonagall was sitting beside him with a look of cold fury to rival Bellatrix's. The rims of Professor Sprout's eyes were red, seemingly resulted from tears shed.
There was one other person who Harry was searching for, and he wasn't there… yet. Bellatrix had said Voldemort would be joining them later.
Harry was led to the front where Carrow took over and Bellatrix went to sit down with the other Professors.
He was directed to stand beside Carrow who, seeming the picture of sternness, looked harshly forward and addressed the crowd in her scratchy voice. "The child standing next to me, while only eleven, has broken more than half of the school rules in the time of only one night. You may recognise and perhaps even admire him, from the duelling competitions… however not even becoming the winner could save him from paying for the offences he committed."
Harry stiffened. What a way to launch his humiliation; by bringing up his triumph at the competitions. It was ironic in all of the cruel ways.
"His name is Harry Potter, a member of Slytherin House. Here, I have a list of the misdeeds he performed…by coming out at midnight to graffiti on the walls around Hogwarts he had broken curfew, done considerable damage to school property, disrupted the school system thus the learning of his peers, shown blatant disrespect towards members of the staff – even going as far as suggesting they are as dim-witted as apes. Mr Potter had not only insulted important members of our school but also important figures in the society including one of our most welcome guests."
Professor McGonagall's face was now the colour of thunder while Snape seemed oddly unmoved, looking impassive. Bellatrix was smirking wildly at Snape while he ignored her unaffectedly.
"The paint Mr Potter used was of the lowest of trick magic, and therefore, was almost impossible to clean off. This not only caused damage to school property but also took up time from both myself and Professor Lestrange. We admit we have spent the entire night attempting to clear the hallways of the foul messages. Looking from the viewpoint of a disappointed and concerned Head, and regarding the severity of these crimes, we have decided to administer a legal and public whipping – the first in all of Hogwarts' history. Being Headmistress, I will be the one to deliver the thirteen strokes we are intending to give out."
There was an emotional outburst from the audience. Protests rang out from every direction, but Carrow took no notice.
"Mr Potter, if you will cooperate you may receive a lighter punishment. If you resist however…" Carrow gave him a meaningful look. "Please remove your cloak and bend over with your fingertips touching your toes."
Reluctantly, under the watch of the whole school, Harry slowly untied his cloak and handed it over to Carrow. Flushing, he bent just as Carrow had instructed.
He touched his toes easily, but the position he was in was uncomfortable. He doubted he would be able to maintain it for too long.
"During the punishment, you will not move from that position until we are finished. If you fall off balance you earn yourself an extra lash."
Carrow conjured herself a slick black whip out of thin air, flicking it to adapt to the feel. Harry glimpsed it from over his shoulder. It was long and smooth-looking, surprisingly elegant for something used in the common crafts of discipline.
"Brace yourself, Potter," said Carrow. Her face was hard, set in focused lines. Harry couldn't help but wonder how much strength she had in her arms. She'd be lashing at her full energy, he was sure.
Harry felt a slight pain in his legs and wobbled. It would be impossible to maintain that position during a whipping.
He wasn't even prepared for the first whiplash. It took him entirely by surprise and literally took his breath away. Harry instantly felt a sudden crack of sharp, intense pain, and then it blossomed into an immense burning feeling. He felt as though someone had taken a hot poker and pressed it deeply to his bare skin. It hurt.
Harry's whole body shook uncontrollably, all his nerves tensed.
"One," Carrow counted coolly. "Twelve more to go."
His palms were sweating and his hands were slipping. The position he was in was not only painful but also gave Carrow full access to his helplessness. Harry knew it would happen before it did.
The whip sliced through the air easily with a quiet whoosh. And then an ear-splitting crack as it met its target.
Pain. Angst. Harry faltered, falling to the ground where he writhed in desperation. It was becoming unbearable and it was only the second blow. He knew he had severely underestimated the potential pain.
It stung so harshly that he wondered whether he was already starting to bleed.
"Get up, Mr Potter. You've just earned one additional lash," said Carrow.
With a tiring effort, Harry managed to hoist himself from the ground.
"Bend."
Teeth gritting, he bent down into his old position again. It stretched his skin, bringing down new waves of pain. He hated Carrow. He hated what was happening to him.
Carrow raised her whip again but it never came down. There was a new presence in the hall.
"Oh no," Lord Voldemort smiled. "Continue, please. Do not let me interrupt you."
Gracefully, the Dark Lord walked to sit with the rest of the staff. Eyes sparkling with entertainment, he cast a casual glance at the disciplinarian and the offender.
Harry saw Voldemort's eyes widen in surprise. Voldemort turned to whisper a few words into Bellatrix's ear.
Carrow lifted her wand high above her head and drew it down, at full speed, in a brutal stroke. Crack!
Harry gasped, feeling unwanted wetness prickling his eyes. He swayed, tipping slightly forward. He was overwhelmed by the never-ending sting that only increased in volume through every hit. The leather cut cruelly into his skin, despite his robes. Harry saw a small trickle of red blood land on the ground beneath him. It was his blood. He knew Carrow would want to make him bleed…but when would the chastisement cease? Surely not after another eleven more?
Everything came at a price. Harry was paying for insulting Voldemort.
Swish! The whip swiped through the air for the fourth time in a row, the black leather glistening. As it came gashing at Harry, ripping his skin, Harry couldn't contain himself anymore. He let out a strangled cry, only just succeeding in keeping his balance. He knew he wasn't coping well.
Carrow sneered, bringing the whip up again. He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the pain to come any minute.
"That's enough."
The glacial voice spoke authoritatively, daring anyone to disagree. The superior undertone caught Harry's attention at once.
Carrow tossed the whip away from her as far as she could, freezing when the speaker gazed aloofly at her. She dared not proceed, not when the Dark Lord had spoken.
"He's had enough. He has learned a great many things from this valuable lesson." Lord Voldemort hesitated. "I trust he will not commit the same transgressions again."
Harry looked, flabbergasted, as the Dark Lord vouched for him. Did this mean he was free of any more punishment? He was dumbstruck by the unlikely turn of events.
"Clean him up a little and make sure he arrives in my office in one hour's time. I need to speak to him."