The Purge
Sorry this is late, I got caught up in holiday stuff and couldn't focus on this until recently.
TW: Torture, conspiracy to murder, murder, and dick jokes, very stupid dick jokes.
Carol of the Knells
"CRUCIO!"
The Dark Lord Voldemort, the most ferocious warlock in the world, was having a very unpleasant morning. Actually, he'd been having an unpleasant couple of months. The murders of his followers were getting increasingly annoying not only because they reduced his ranks, but because they were incredibly demoralizing for his remaining followers. And, to top it all off, he'd been having a serious migraine ever since Halloween.
It had happened very suddenly, almost as though it were a seizure but nothing his followers did could stop the pain. It felt as though parts of him were exploding under his skin before the pain dimmed to a sharp stabbing in the back of his skull. No amount of pain-relief potions could make it go away.
Also during Halloween, his beloved Nagini had died rather suddenly and no one could figure out how it had happened. At first, Voldemort had been worried that something had happened to his horcruxes, but then he assured himself that no one knew about them and they were all perfectly safe where he'd hidden them. Well, with the exception of the diary, something Lucius was frequently paying for. But there was nothing he had ever read about horcruxes that would cause such a reaction; and he was the only remaining expert in horcruxes, after all.
Still, it was worrying that he didn't know what caused such a thing.
Oh, well, he thought to himself, I'm sure it's nothing a wizard of my capabilities can't figure out. Now, I need start planning how I'm going to break my other followers out of Azkaban. These attacks are leaving my forces rather diminished.
Harry was sitting enjoying his breakfast the day after he'd liberated the captives at the Gibbon household. He'd settled for plain porridge, not having much of an appetite these days. He only looked up when the mail arrived (though, as usual, he didn't receive anything as he and Sirius preferred covert correspondence for obvious reasons). His reason for looking up, though, was to observe his fellow students.
Sure enough, an owl delivered a letter to Susan Bones. Upon opening it, Susan was quickly overcome with tears and hugged her friend Hannah, crying out, "My mum's alive! She's alive!"
Harry was happy for the girl, but it couldn't stop his own sense of melancholy. He was pleased with himself for reuniting a family with a lost loved one, but it left him reminded of his own loss. Those thoughts quickly soured and he turned his narrowed gaze towards a certain greasy-haired potions professor, who had also noticed Susan's reaction to the letter and seemed decidedly displeased by it.
After Harry had poked around Dumbledore's and Snape's memories, he knew plenty about the prophecy and the fact that it was Snape who'd sold out Harry's family. But Harry also learned that two other children could've fit the prophecy under different circumstances. Neville Longbottom was the other immediate choice for the Chosen One, which, in hindsight, actually made a lot of sense to Harry, but hadn't been chosen because Voldemort felt the Chosen One would be a half-blood like himself. But there was another candidate that could've been available had she been born a boy. Susan Bones was born the day after Harry (while Neville had been born the day before him) and her parents had been very outspoken in their opposition to Voldemort, with Susan's late father Andrew Bones giving three individual speeches as head of the hit-wizards on how Magical Law Enforcement was not going to be intimidated and that anyone bearing the mark "of that son of a bitch who calls himself a Dark Lord" would be immediately detained and interrogated "by any means necessary within the bounds of the law."
From what Harry heard around the school, Susan Bones was as much a target of Snape's ire as Neville or Harry. And now Harry understood why. Harry knew that the DMLE would soon be knocking on Hogwarts' door for Snape to come along with them to a nice little cell in Azkaban, but Harry didn't think he could let Snape get away with such a light punishment for everything he'd done.
If that made Harry petty, well, so be it.
"Why did Harry ask us to run reconnaissance on Azkaban?" Tracey asked.
"Because it would mess up our performance streak if there's a Death Eater breakout," said Luna.
"Yeah, Tracey," said Daphne. "It's hard enough breaking into the houses of the ones who escaped prosecution. If you add in the ones who actually went to prison, we'll be back to square one."
"Not to mention, Harry said he has plans for a Christmas gift for one of his Gryffindor friends. It involves severed heads."
"I didn't know Hermione collects severed heads."
"It's obviously not for Hermione, Daphne," said Tracey. "It isn't, right?"
"Of course not," said Luna. "Everyone knows that women hate severed heads as gifts. If you give a girl an appendage, you aim lower. Much lower."
Neither one could dispute that and so went back to making their observations of the supposedly escape-proof prison.
"So, how many of these Dick Munchers are there up for the chopping block?" said Tracey.
"Not nearly as many as got off," said Luna.
"Please don't use the words 'got off' in conjunction with 'Dick Munchers,'" said Daphne. "It sounds crass."
"All right, all right. Don't get testy-cle."
Tracey just managed to stifle a snort.
"Luna!"
"I've got another one. You know what their very favorite thing to eat is?"
"What?" said Tracey.
"Sausages."
"Stop it," Daphne persisted. "Tracey, don't encourage her."
"You know what else Death Eaters like to eat?"
"What?" said Tracey, who was fighting to keep back her laughs.
"Nuts, but they never have any."
"You two are so childish," said Daphne, having to damper what would otherwise have been a yell so as not to draw attention to their hiding spot.
The Christmas holidays soon drew near and students were making ready to go home and spend some time with their families. Snape was even nastier than usual because of the students' excitement, good cheer, and happiness and was particularly vindictive to Harry, who often sat smiling in Potions fantasizing about his special Christmas present to himself, Sirius, Remus, and the student body at large.
It still bothered Harry, to a certain degree, that he'd become so comfortable with taking human life. He'd heard a few things about serial killers, about them being broken people with a lack of empathy, how they tortured animals as kids or were sexually abused. That didn't really describe Harry, though. Harry, for all that he'd done, still had regard for the lives of the innocent; he wasn't deluded and he certainly didn't get a sexual release from torturing and killing Death Eaters.
There was something, though, that satisfied him deeply when he heard them screaming, making them endure in some part the horrors they'd inflicted on their victims. Perhaps it was some little thrill of the power he held over them in those moments; pain and respite, life and death. In a way, it made him understand what Quirrell had told him back in first year, how Voldemort had taught him that there is "No Good and Evil, only power and those too weak to seek it." Except, Harry wasn't in this for power, at least not for the sake of power itself; his primary focus was on justice, to be the hand of the defenseless and the liberator of the captive. However, he could only be so if he became a monster that monsters fear. A darker version of his hero complex.
Instead of charging into a fray as a valiant knight, Sword of Gryffindor in hand and surrounded by smoke and war cries, he became a demon, someone more Slytherin in nature, striking down the unwary enemies before they could cause any more harm. It wasn't noble, or chivalrous, or fair, but it was effective, it was cathartic, and it was still justice. And justice with far less loss of life than an outright battle would bring.
But still, whatever internal conflicts arose in him, Harry would continue with his mission. And, as it would soon be Christmas, he felt right in his decision of what to give everyone as a gift.
Severus Snape struggled furiously against his restraints. He couldn't see anything through the cloth sack that had been fastened over his head and his wrists were bound in manacles behind his back. Somehow, before his captor even started speaking, he knew it was all Potter's fault. Someone grabbed him and flung him onto a hard surface, positioning him so that his upper body was slanted down.
Suddenly, he found water being repeatedly dumped over him, making him feel as though he were drowning. He squirmed and struggled, desperate for air and freezing cold. He gurgled as water filled his mouth and nose, coking and disorienting.
After several minutes, it stopped and the sack was yanked off, he rolled off the table and hit the hard, stone floor on his side and coughed up the water, wheezing as he gasped for air.
"Hello, Snivellous."
Snape's eyes shifted up from where he lay to where Potter sat, smiling pleasantly at him, on one of the classroom desks.
"I've been waiting a long time for this," said Harry. "Maybe if you'd acted like less of an arse the past few years I might have been persuaded to go a bit easier on you. Probably not, though. Once a Death Muncher, always a Death Muncher and all that."
"Potter! I'll have you expelled for this! Do you hear me, you arrogant twit?!"
"Yeah, that's likely. About as likely as Draco coming back and testifying against me."
Snape's eyes widened in horror.
"It can't be…You're the one who's been doing all this?!"
"Only natural that you'd be surprised, considering how much of a 'dunderhead' you always assumed I was. Now, I have a few questions that I want you to answer truthfully. If you don't answer or if you attempt to lie to me, I'm afraid I'll have to up my interrogation techniques by breaking every bone in your hands, one at a time. If that doesn't work, I'll call in my assistants to help me with some of the more…unpleasant methods."
"I won't tell you anything, you little brat!"
"Oh, I am so happy you said that. Means I don't have to wait to get down to business."
"You don't have the nerve, Potter," Snape sneered. "Dumbledore wouldn't allow you to do this."
"Well, it's a good thing he isn't here, then, isn't it?"
Harry kicked Snape in the stomach, forcing him to roll the other way. Harry kicked him again so that the greasy professor lay prone on his stomach and Harry could reach his manacled hands.
"Now then," said Harry. "Did you or did you not hear the prophecy about me and then tell it to Voldemort?"
"Go to Hell, Potter!"
"Tsk, tsk, that's no way to speak to a student."
Harry grabbed Snape's bound hands, not caring about the discomfort he was causing him by yanking his arms up the wrong way. Selecting the index finger of Snape's right hand, Harry picked up a nutcracker tool (a small, thin device not to be confused with the holiday item) and inserted the tip of the finger into it.
Crack!
"When are you going to tell him?" said Daphne.
"Soon," Tracey replied defensively.
"Uh-huh. So, you'll tell him in the next half-hour?"
"He's busy."
"I know, I know, torturing our head of house to death is a very big deal for him."
"Big deal for us, too, if the rumors are true."
"I suppose so. But you have to tell Harry that you like him as more than a friend."
"The hell I do."
"If you don't stake your claim now, some other girl will move in."
"Like Hermione or Luna?"
"I thought Hermione liked Weasley?"
"Are you fucking serious? Hermione with Weasley?"
"All right, you've got me there. But still, you shouldn't wait, Tracey. A boy like that will go off the market fast and Harry deserves someone who can understand him on a personal level, someone who can see past the Boy-Who-Lived image and not report him to the DMLE for mass murder."
"You're right, Daphne," Tracey said with a sigh.
"Well, I usually am."
"I'll tell him when you admit you've got a crush on Neville Longbottom."
"Exactly, you'll tell him right after I…" Daphne paused to absorb what she'd just heard and then glared at her friend. "I really hate you."
"You know, Snape, I think we've made great strides in resolving our differences," Harry said cheerfully as he wiped the blood from his hands.
Snape groaned miserably in response. His hands were nothing more than mangled lumps of flesh, his face had been slashed over and over with a jagged knife, and it was better left unsaid what state the lower half of his body was in.
"I mean, I already knew most of what you'd done because you stupidly left that pensieve full of your memories out where anyone could stumble across it. You must be a moron on top of being a completely unrepentant piece of shit. Still, there's something wonderful about admitting your faults, getting them all out in the open. And, I just want you to know, your confession will bring closure to a lot of families. Now, however, our little chat must end.
"Goodbye, Professor."
Amelia Bones sat patiently at her sister-in-law's bedside. Mary was making great strides in overcoming what had happened to her. Amelia couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like, trapped in a dark cell for years being repeatedly raped and beaten, forced to give birth to her rapist's children. Mary hadn't even been allowed to name them. Amelia hadn't brought Susan in to see her mother yet, hoping to give Mary a little more time to adjust and heal before reintroducing her to her eldest child.
Hopefully, Mary would be coming home for Christmas, along with the two children. Despite the circumstances surrounding their births, Mary loved those children; a boy and a girl, whom she'd finally been able to name Andrew and Sarah Macdonald, deciding to give them her maiden name so they wouldn't be tarred with the name of her rapist.
Amelia had noticed similar responses from the other rescued women. They'd had no one to turn to for love and kindness except each other and their children. It reminded Amelia that even from pain, horror, and trauma there could still come some measure of good.
"Madam Bones!"
Amelia looked up at the interruption to see one of her aurors. It was starting to get routine.
"Madam Bones, we need you to go with us to Hogwarts," said the auror. "There's been another one!"
"What is it, Auror Jennings?" said Amelia.
"There's been another murder. It was a professor this time."
"Who?"
Amelia had to stifle the wish that the victim was the Toad…ehem, the Undersecretary to the Minister.
Harry smiled blandly as he and the other students were ordered to pack their things and prepare to leave early. All classes had been canceled for the term and parents and guardians were contacted to retrieve the students early. Harry knew the reason behind the frenzy. It was all because he'd gone and done a little thing like decorating the potions' class with Snape's innards. And for added fun, he'd had Dobby lock the other professors in their quarters to ensure they didn't block off the room until every student who wanted to had seen it.
There were more than a few celebrations.
Harry thought Umbridge was going to croak she was so furious. When it was all said and done, the students had been ushered to their dorms to start packing. Harry wasn't bothered by it, though. It meant he got to spend more time with the people that mattered to him. After all, wasn't that what Christmas was all about?
"Harry."
Harry turned to see Tracey standing nervously in a corner as they all waited for the carriages to arrive to take them to the station.
"Hey, Tracey," he said. "Is something wrong?"
"No, nothing's wrong," she said, still looking awkward. "It's just, there's something I feel I need to do before I leave or I'll regret it."
"If there's anything the matter, I'd be happy to help."
Tracey smiled and Harry wasn't sure if it was the cold air that was making her cheeks so pink. She quickly moved close to him, looked him in the eyes, and caught his lips in a kiss. Harry stood there, frozen in shock and unsure how to respond. He'd never been kissed before and expressions of affection, particularly those involving physical contact, were quite beyond him. Still, he couldn't fight the heat that spread up through his body and the peculiar sensation of contentment that squeezed at his innards in a way he'd only known before because he was usually the one doing the squeezing, although it certainly hadn't been pleasant for the person he'd done it to.
After a few seconds, Tracey pulled away, now looking rather proud of herself. Harry shook himself from his daze when he heard someone wolf-whistle and realized they'd both become the center of every student's attention.
"What a mess," Amelia muttered as she entered the crime scene.
She remembered Hogwarts' potions classroom, though in her day it certainly lacked the garlands of intestines and severed limb ornaments or the "HAPPY CHRISTMAS" scrawled on the far wall in blood. She didn't even need to hear the coroner's report to know that Snape had suffered horrific pain. Strangely, she couldn't muster any sympathy for the greasy bastard.
"Do we have a note for this one?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Auror Shacklebolt. "But I…I'm not sure you want to read it."
"Auror Shacklebolt, at this point I don't think anything could surprise me."
"All right," he said uncertainly, handing her the note. "Let me just summarize the main points. It's a list of everything Snape did to hurt people. It's like with the others; rape, torture, murder. It's…rather extensive."
"So I see." When she'd taken it, the note had unwound into a long scroll that ran all the way out to the hall.
"But that's not everything, ma'am. It seems Snape was also the one to set You-Know-Who on the Potters."
Amelia froze.
"Explain."
"Snape apparently heard a prophecy that Harry Potter is the only one who can defeat You-Know-Who and so he took what he knew to his master and when You-Know-Who decided to target the Potters, Snape made a request that Lily Potter be left alive so Snape could have her for his personal sex slave."
"Did Dumbledore know about this?!"
"I…I hate to have to say this, but he did, ma'am," said Shacklebolt sickly. "It's all in the note. Dumbledore knew what Snape had done and was keeping him here with the intention of 'redeeming' him. And he even turned a blind eye to what Snape was doing to some of the female students."
Amelia couldn't even find the words to express her disgust and simply motioned for him to continue.
"Well, ma'am, it seems Snape was not only allowing Slytherin boys to take sexual advantage of their female housemates, he himself has either outright assaulted or else coerced over fifty female students of various ages, not all of them in Slytherin. At least fifteen of them were underage."
Amelia's hands were clenched into fists.
"It goes on a bit, ma'am. There are a couple cases of Death Eater attacks that Snape had a hand in, even after he supposedly joined up with Dumbledore."
Amelia's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Did he have anything to do with…"
"Yes, ma'am, he was the one who delivered the killing blow to Andrew Bones and was involved in the kidnapping of Mary Bones. He was also the one who led the attack that killed Edgar Bones and his family and, from what it says in the note, he personally tortured the children."
Furious tears burned in her eyes, but Amelia wouldn't shed them. She was strong.
"Why?" she couldn't help but mutter. She hadn't been expecting an answer, but Shacklebolt gave her one anyway.
"According to the note, one of Snape's reasons was that he held a grudge against Mary Bones. I'm sure you know as well as I do that Mary was one of Lily Potter's friends. It seems Mary, when she and Lily were in school together, had tried to discourage Lily from continuing her childhood friendship with Snape because of his increasing involvement in the Dark Arts."
"And the other reason?"
"The other reason was that he wanted to hurt your niece."
"What does Susan have to do with this?"
"It seems that, had she been born a boy, she would have been a likely candidate for the prophecy. Snape evidently had this twisted thought that if You-Know-Who had gone after a different target that he would still have a chance at Lily Potter."
Amelia gave a tired sigh. If things kept going as they were, she'd be inclined to give Snape's killer an Order of Merlin.
"Anything else?"
"I don't know how to tell you, Madam Bones."
"Is there anything else, Auror Shacklebolt?"
Shacklebolt took a nervous gulp.
"Do you remember what happened to the McKinnon siblings?"
That was the final nail in the coffin. Amelia's hand collided with a nearby desk and a sickening 'crunch' was heard as her fist broke the wood to pieces. Michael McKinnon had been her fiancé, the dearest love of her life and the only man she'd ever give her heart to, and his sister Marlene had been one of her closest friends. While Amelia knew they'd both died in a Death Eater raid, she hadn't known that Snape had been involved. Her only regret was that whoever had killed Snape had prevented Amelia from doing the deed herself.
"I think I need a moment."
Kingsley nodded and then quickly left the room, hastily slamming the door shut behind him.
Amelia leaned over the desk she had partially destroyed and took deep, steadying breaths. Her family, save Susan and Mary, had all been killed by Death Eaters. Her parents had been slaughtered by Voldemort himself, her brother Edgar and his family were butchered in their home by Snape, Snape had killed her brother Andrew and practically sold Mary into slavery, both Snape and Voldemort had been involved in the raid that cost Amelia both her fiancé and her friend. James Potter had been her godbrother and Lily Potter had been her partner and friend; both were killed because Snape had brought a prophecy naming Harry Potter as the only one to defeat Voldemort.
Amelia had protested Dumbledore's employment of Snape for years, without even knowing all of his crimes, and had been ignored. When James and Lily had been killed and Sirius Black sent to Azkaban, she'd tried to get custody of young Harry to ensure he was kept safe, but again Dumbledore had blocked her attempts.
Her eyes roved over the dismembered remains of one of the three men responsible for her misery.
"I'm fairly sure Harry Potter has first call on Voldemort's death, that leaves Dumbledore for me."
