The Purge
Trigger Warning: It only gets worse. Graphic stuff.
Again, events changed from the original in my one-shots collection.
Also, I'm borrowing a trope that I believe was developed by Rorschach's Blot. And the title of the chapter is a quote from Lemony Snicket.
Criminals Should Be Punished, Not Fed Pastries
"Madam Bones, here are the reports from the investigation at Hogwarts."
"Thank you, Jones," Amelia said, rubbing her brow as her headache flared.
She'd had to deal with a panic in the DMLE offices all afternoon because of rumors about the incident at Hogwarts. As she read over the reports, she realized that the rumors were not as unfounded as she hoped. The attack was brutal, the type of thing even Amelia was reluctant to wish on even the most hardened Death Eater. Unfortunately, this was not the first time she'd seen something of this nature.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think she'd come back from the dead."
"Ma'am?" said Jones, who was still there, waiting for further orders.
"I've seen just this type of modus operandi before," said Amelia, looking up at the young auror. "But not since the last war. Not since before my partner died."
Amelia didn't continue but silently slipped back into memories of the most ruthless, bloodthirsty auror to ever enter the department. Her old partner, Lily Potter. There had been a reason the woman was nicknamed "The Bleeding Lily." Before her son was born and she had to go into hiding, Lily had struck terror into the Death Eaters who crossed her. Only a handful of the Death Eaters she engaged in combat made it out alive, and fewer still escaped without some gruesome and debilitating injury.
Then there had been the "incidents." Oh, no one could ever prove that Lily was behind them, but the fact that fifteen prominent purebloods who had been released from custody despite having the Dark Mark (as they'd "obviously" been imperiused) were discovered brutally tortured to death in their homes caused numerous awkward questions about an auror possibly going rogue. Amelia, and a large percentage of the department (including its then-head, Bartemius Crouch Sr.), were not so suspicious; they were all positive it was Lily, not that any of them were going to attempt to arrest her for it for one simple reason:
No one in the entire department was stupid enough to try it. They were far more content to overlook the unprovable actions of a loose-cannon than to stick their necks on the chopping block. If the Wizengamot didn't laugh them out of the courtroom, Lily Potter herself might suspect whoever turned her in of being a Death Eater spy. And then the gloves would come off.
James Potter had been so terrified of the thought of having to witness his wife's activities in the field (as hearing her recount them at home every evening was bad enough) that he actually chose to work as a healer in the intensive-care wing of St. Mungo's, stating that it would be much less stressful. In fact, after Lily had very reluctantly gone into hiding with her family, Amelia was worried what kind of effect Lily would have on her son if she had nothing to do all day but sit in the house and tell little Harry stories of killing Death Eaters.
For a moment, she worried that young Harry Potter was behind the attack, following in his mother's psychotic footsteps. She didn't think he was, or at least hoped he wasn't, but she was determined to check every possibility. The thought of someone taking up Lily Potter's mission was absolutely terrifying. Though Amelia herself would shed no tears over Death Eaters, the fact remained that the victim in the Hogwarts case was still a student. The perpetrator would have to answer for his or her crimes.
Once the investigation surrounding Draco Malfoy's murder had been concluded, things were still very uneasy at Hogwarts. The culprit had not been caught and Umbridge was even nastier than before. She was still convinced that Harry Potter had been behind it and had taken to following him; Harry pretended not to notice her, to give her the feeling that she was being sneaky. Her time would come, though. But not until the end of the school year, as was tradition with the professors of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
The Room of Requirements had been set up for the evening's activities. In addition to the various torture machines, knives, and other accoutrements, there was a comfy sofa and a table with a tea service and a selection of pastries. After all, he was entertaining a young lady and it wouldn't do to not provide her with suitable comforts.
At exactly ten thirty, he opened the door to find Sally-Anne nervously waiting outside. She'd signed the RSVP and made arrangements to meet him there right before curfew.
"Good evening, Sally-Anne," Harry said with a genial smile. "How was your trip here?"
"Terrifying," she retorted. "I kept feeling like I was going to get caught. And I'm still worried someone's going to turn me in tomorrow."
"That's what Polyjuice is for. I hope you don't mind my taking the liberty, but I have one of my people pretending to be you in the Hufflepuff dorm."
"What, how?"
"I'd be happy to explain later, but right now I would like to proceed with our little party."
Harry offered her his arm, which she accepted cautiously, and he led her into the room. She was momentarily struck with horror at the sight of the torture devices and for a moment her trust in Harry wavered, until she noticed the two bulky figures that were bound on the floor with their heads covered in burlap sacks.
"Do take a seat, Miss Perks," Harry said. "And help yourself to tea and cakes."
Sally-Anne sat on the sofa and watched as Harry dragged the figures up closer, clearly straining slightly from how heavy they were. Harry then picked up two buckets of water, which he dumped, one at a time, on either figure. The figures sputtered and coughed as they were awoken in their bindings. That was when Harry ripped the bags off their heads and revealed them to be Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Sally-Anne's initial fear at the sight of her tormentors was quickly overcome by a deep loathing as she remembered every abuse they had inflicted on her and the knowledge that they couldn't harm her now had finally sunk in.
"Wha?" said Crabbe.
"Whas goin' on?" said Goyle.
"Good evening, gentlemen," Harry said cheerfully.
"Potter!"
"Very good, you both learned how to say my name. Now, all these pleasantries aside, I've got a few questions for you that your dearly departed friend Draco didn't fully answer to my satisfaction."
"Y-you killed him, didn't you?" Crabbe stammered out.
"Oh, well done, Mr. Crabbe," Harry said with a slow, mocking applause. "Did you figure that out all by yourself?"
"W-what d'you want, Potter?" Goyle asked fearfully. He was used to being in control over the people he and Crabbe tormented; he never thought he'd be in a vulnerable position himself.
"Names, dates, etcetera," Harry rambled of, as mildly as if he were discussing the weather. "Dear Miss Perks over here told me about what you filthy bastards did to her."
Sally-Anne fought back a wince, but then schooled her features. Harry had warned her in his note that she should be prepared to witness terrible things, but a kind of malicious glee settled into her as it dawned on her what exactly the implements of torture were for. While she had been wary in the beginning (still trying to shake off the heart-wrenching despair that had led her to attempting to end her own life), she remembered what happened to Malfoy and that had been what made her start to put her faith in Harry Potter.
"What I want to know is if you did the same to any other girls," Harry continued. "Believe me, I have ways of making you talk."
Albus Dumbledore leaned back in his wingchair and stroked his beard thoughtfully. The attack on young Draco Malfoy had been a terrible tragedy. That boy had so much potential, so much to live for. While it was true that young Draco had been on a Dark path, he could easily have changed his ways and come back to the Light. Dumbledore's greatest aspiration for the young man was to lead him to becoming another Severus Snape, repentant for all the horrible things he'd been coerced into doing. Such a pity that hope would never come to fruition.
It was like dealing with the Lily Potter situation all over again. While he could never find the evidence to convict the woman, Dumbledore and just about everyone else knew she was responsible for the murders of the fifteen people who had been acquitted from their Death Eater activities. While it was true they were likely guilty, that did not excuse murdering members of already dying families. Those people could have been reformed and allowed to live their lives in peace if they had survived to see the end of the war.
Dumbledore hated to admit it, but he was actually rather glad that Lily Potter was gone. Even after he'd spent all that time wiping and altering Lily's and James' memories so they wouldn't dare use lethal force to protect themselves and their son from Voldemort when they went into hiding, he didn't feel safe allowing Lily Potter to go back into the Auror Corps. And changing Lily's memories had not been an easy task, in fact she'd nearly killed him in the process. But he simply couldn't allow the Chosen One of the prophecy to escape his fate, even if that meant the boy had to grow up without his parents.
Still, the murder of young Draco was so eerily similar to Lily Potter's methods as to worry him. In fact, if Dumbledore didn't know better, he'd think that young Harry had something to do with it, being Lily's son and all. But he quickly dismissed the idea; Harry was far too kind, noble, self-sacrificing, and honorable to do anything remotely like that.
"Thank you very much for your information, gentlemen," Harry said, casually wiping off a bloody knife and making a mental note to have the rack sanitized.
It had taken a good couple of hours, but Crabbe and Goyle had cracked. Harry was actually amazed they'd held off as long as they had, but in the end he gotten more information for his "Little List." Plus, he got the full details on Crabbe and Goyle's crimes.
Aiding Draco in violent attacks on muggle-born students. Sexual assault of three first-year girls in Hufflepuff, two in Gryffindor, two in Ravenclaw, and one in Slytherin. Participation in sexual attacks on Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass in Slytherin (the goons had primarily been used by Draco to restrain the girls while he raped them). Conspiracy to assist in the rape of a minor (Draco had gotten his engagement to Astoria Greengrass, a second-year, approved and fully intended to take advantage of the situation). Rape of twelve other muggle-born and half-blood girls from each of the four Houses in all but seventh year (including Sally-Anne).
Sally-Anne herself had quickly lost any aversion to watching Harry conduct his interrogation. That cold, vengeful part of her that wanted to watch her abusers suffer for all they'd done had led her to watching in silent amusement as Harry brutally tortured them as if she were watching something entertaining on the telly over a late tea. Besides, the pastries did look good and she was rather partial to Victoria Sponge.
"However, I'm afraid we cannot allow you to live," Harry added.
"What?!" Goyle screamed. "But-but you…"
"Did we ever say anything about releasing you? After what you've done?" Harry tutted at them. "And here I thought you'd gotten a bit of intelligence. Oh well." He picked up the longest, sharpest knife in his collection.
"Um, Harry?" Sally-Anne said softly, rising and approaching slowly.
"Yes, Sally-Anne?"
"I was wondering…could I, maybe, do the honors?"
"Oh, of course, how thoughtless of me." He handed her the knife. "You are my guest, after all."
The students were hastily ushered back to their common rooms as the professors cleared the way for the aurors. Two bodies had been discovered this time, horribly mutilated to the point where the only way to identify them was due to the headcount of students. Messrs. Crabbe and Goyle had died in a manner far more horrific even than that of Draco Malfoy.
"What did the monster do this time?" Umbridge demanded.
"It was horrible, Madam," said the auror, a different one than last time. "One of the rookies had to be taken out because he started throwing up at the sight of it."
"I don't care about that! I want to know what happened!"
The auror held her fist up to her mouth for a moment, as though trying to stop herself from being sick at the thought.
"The coroner reported that the two boys were strung up on something and pulled until their tendons broke," she said. "They were then apparently fastened into some sort of chair covered in sharp points. We can tell because the point marks are only present on the back sides of their bodies. They were kept in that position for an extended period, during which they were repeatedly bludgeoned, cut, and had their fingers crushed by some sort of metal device. After that, the attacker cut off both their, um…genitals and shoved them down their throats."
"Actually, a slight correction there," said the coroner, exiting the Great Hall. "Each boy's genitals were shoved down the other's throat."
The auror gagged a bit and Umbridge's current complexion only heightened her similarity of appearance to the toad she was so often compared with.
"Right, thank you, Coroner Jenkins," said the auror, collecting herself once more. "After that was done, the murderer…I can't say it." She started gagging again.
The coroner rolled her eyes.
"The cause of death was repeated sodomy with a sharp object," the coroner explained. "Most likely a knife. No evidence of magic on either body. They were simply left to bleed out in the Great Hall."
"Then how did no one hear them?!" said Umbridge, fighting back the bile in her own throat.
"Well, would you be able to scream if you had a dick shoved down your throat? Granted they weren't very large, but…"
"Coroner Jenkins, please," said the auror. "A little respect for the dead."
"Hard to respect them after we found that list."
"What list?" both the auror and Umbridge asked.
"Oh, sorry, that's what I came out here to tell you. We found a document nearby the bodies. It was a list of crimes they'd committed against fellow students. Here you are." She handed the document to the auror.
"Oh my Merlin!"
Umbridge yanked the list out of the auror's hands and read the detailed compilation of the crimes the young men had committed, as well as those of young Malfoy. Not that she cared about mudbloods or half-blood bastards, but two daughters of distinguished families had been assaulted. When word got back to Cyrus Greengrass and Walter Davis that their daughters had been raped…
"This entire situation just keeps getting more and more disturbing," said the auror. "I'd better consult with Watkins. He was in charge of the last investigation. And Head Auror Scrimgeour and Madam Bones are not going to be happy."
Umbridge rubbed her forehead and tried to fight back the awful headache that was forming. She'd already had to deal with Lucius Malfoy's tirade about the death of his son and was not looking forward to informing Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle about their own sons. Still, she was in a bind. Mr. Davis and Mr. Greengrass were going to be apoplectic with rage over the attacks on their daughters and would probably start calling for a pardon for whoever had killed the boys responsible. Umbridge herself was caught between the proverbial rock and hard place.
All in all, this was not what she'd hoped for when she agreed to work for the ministry in Hogwarts.
Harry sent off a letter with Dobby to Luna, thanking her for filling in for him again. While it was a good thing he had someone to give him an alibi, it did pain him to know that Luna's dorm mates took so little notice of her that she wasn't missed from her own dormitory. Luna had become very devoted to Harry since she started helping him with his plans, grateful to finally have a friend in her life.
Actually, it had been Luna's idea of how to provide Sally-Anne with an alibi of her own. Up until the moment she suggested it, Harry had no idea that Polyjuice could work on house elves as he'd believed it was only capable of transforming humans. Luna had pointed out that it was only for human transformations, the person taking the potion need not be human. Dobby had been perfectly happy to volunteer if it meant helping "Harry Potter sir."
There was something very satisfying about a job well done, even if that job was torture and murder. While there was still a part of him, deeply buried, that objected to such methods, the prevailing part of his personality was rather smug and contented with what he'd achieved. It was only the first term back at Hogwarts and he'd already eliminated three aspiring Death Eaters. That hard work deserved a little stress-relief, and there was nothing like pulling a prank on the old headmaster to relax oneself.
Dumbledore sighed tiredly as he headed up to his office. It had been a very long day dealing with hysterical mothers, raging fathers, a bunch of nosy aurors, and that damned Umbridge woman all expecting him to answer the same questions over and over. Sometimes it was hard being a bastion of the Light, but he handled the situation with his usual flair and diverted all uncomfortable queries and paperwork to Minerva, as was expected of a headmaster of his caliber.
Opening the door to his office, he knew something was wrong when a flood of brightly-colored bowling balls rained down upon him, breaking numerous bones and causing him grievous bodily harm. At least he could appreciate the color scheme of the bowling balls, they were very lurid and he needed something to be optimistic about as he was subjected to such an agonizing surprise.
He managed to right himself after only tripping over the balls three more times and vanished them. Stumbling into his office, he realized something else was wrong; all his furniture had been fastened to the ceiling and all the portraits had been turned upside-down. Several attempts to return things to normal through magic proved that someone had used a very powerful sticking charm.
It was really not looking like a good evening for Albus Dumbledore. He wouldn't find out until later that someone had coated his precious sherbet lemons in clear nail varnish, completely eliminating their flavor and making them harder than rocks.
