Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or gain any profit from this story. I will not be repeating this in future chapters.
A/N: A series of one shots set during the final year at Hogwarts. The theme will be Minerva, how she was affected and how she made an effect at the school. Varying lengths, different POVs, some are vaguely AU or OOC in some aspects... As a random tidbit: I feel the series title deserves an explanation. It is an interpretation of when the word effect means 'to create' (i.e. - I am going to effect change. In other words, create change.) And when I say spirit, I mean... well, you how you say "that's the spirit"? So the title pretty much means the 'soul' or 'essence' of the resistance is 'created' (or displayed, at least) in these one-shots. I just thought it sounded poetic written backwards like that. :P Hope that all makes sense.
This first one is a little AU/OOC for Severus. Oh, and there is some violence in this one, both real and referenced.
Sorry that this note has become a novel already. I'll let you read the real story here...
Vivid
Standing once more within the gray stone edifice that was Hogwarts had brought any number of unimaginable feelings, memories, and people to Severus Snape's mind.
The first sensation that struck him was the overwhelming sense of home. Second, although not far behind the first feeling, was the ungodly mixture of loss and guilt that attacked him. Luckily, he had not seen that God-awful tower upon his entrance. The cover of his loyalties would surely have been exposed to the dark lord more easily than Severus imagined, simply by the look which that particular memory brought to his face.
Nevertheless, that had not been the case and there Severus had stood in the entrance hall, hesitating to take that first step towards growing into his role as the new headmaster of Hogwarts. The former potions master had shivered at the thought of filling the enormous space left behind after… after Dumbledore was gone.
Yet Severus had buried the thought deeply into his subconscious, forcing it down with as much mental power as he could muster while still preparing himself for an imminent encounter with the black-haired witch who had been coming towards him.
The furious clicking of Minerva McGonagall's low black heels upon the stone floors never changed – not in all of Severus' years at the school, either while learning or teaching.
"You are late," Minerva had snapped the words venomously, with a scalding glare on her face.
The woman was impudent enough to berate Severus immediately upon his return. Then again, he had expected no less from her formidable temper. Had Severus been as much in the dark lord's pocket as he claimed, the witch would have faced a very unpleasant time; torture was an indiscriminant pastime for true Death Eaters wherever they could find it. Minerva's cheek never would have passed unpunished by another in his position.
Not that she cared. When a former trusted colleague who murdered her closest friend came back to oust her from her rightful position – with two Death Eater 'professors' in tow, no less - Severus was not going to be welcomed with any sort of ease.
"I do not recall being on your time schedule," Severus had spat in return, contemptuous features overcoming his cold face.
They had then remained locked in a mixture of internal struggling and external wits – although most certainly not the pish-posh civil duel as it had been in the past – as they would often do for months to come.
Those months passed in agonizingly slow detail for Severus.
The students could rebel and he understood – even encouraged it secretly – since they were battling the dark lord's control as much as they were fighting Severus himself.
The staff could ignore or alter the decisions Severus handed down to them, whether subtly or blatantly, and he simply did not care. The Carrows posed more of a problem than the combined force of all the other staff members – who had actual rights to rebellion.
Hogwarts as a whole could entirely disintegrate with displeasure and still Severus did not truly care.
What Severus cared about was the fact every morning wrought some new tremor ro rock the swiftly-disappearing crumbles of foundation upon which he and Minerva stood.
Their relationship had always been a rough sea at best, uncharted and dangerous when not kept in check, but often enough they had been civil and respectful. Very few things had truly raised their hackles against each other for a number of years.
Oh, Potter was always a ridiculous nuisance of a topic, Severus would grant that much. Yet during the first year of the boy's schooling, the Head of Gryffindor quickly came to the point of rolling her eyes and facing her counterpart's ranting about the young wizard with resignation. Nothing else had come to any vicious end since that year.
As Easter approached them in the current year, the entirety of their relationship could be compared to the narrowest, most unstable precipice far above a cluster of jagged rocks. The situation was troubling; Severus could admit that to himself. Minerva thoroughly raked him over the coals as much as possible and he, in his grandiose effort to continue his charade, returned much of the same.
Severus' rejoinders to Minerva's verbal lashings were cruel and heavy-handed, in spite of how much it pained him to tell such taunts to her already-full bank of doubts and insecurities. Yes, she was hard and fast and capable with her brusque, unfriendly demeanor.
Beneath all of that, there had been left a tempest without guidance in the wake of Dumbledore's sudden departure.
Of course, McGonagall was not an outright rebel in front of the Carrows or the Slytherin students. It was only with Severus on his own that Minerva became a regular spitfire. She was using some logic, thankfully.
On the face of things, it did not seem especially intelligent to speak with Severus in such a manner, either, seeing as he was supposedly one of the dark lord's closest hands. Yet Minerva had known Severus on a personal level for far too long not to continue her dangerous cavorting with his temper.
Besides, the transfiguration professor's restraint obviously had its limits. Without some sort of outlet, she would lose her sanity. Severus highly doubted the dark lord would feel too concerned over Minerva's personal dislike for Severus anyway. After all that came before, everyone merely expected it. If Minerva protested the dark lord himself, the story would be very different, but fortunately that was not the case.
The Head of Gryffindor had become exponentially brazen and, in some peculiar way, ridiculously uncouth since Severus' return to the school. Minerva's attempts at rebellion and discord in Severu's presence were nothing short of scandalous in the way of diplomatic behavior, despite the no-nonsense persona which always enshrouded her.
She was, in a word, vivid.
Everything Minerva did was colored and accented by her high-spirited disgust with Severus' appointment and his deeds. Their every word bespoke flaring tempers and vicious inner thoughts and feelings, none of which had yet been fully divulged in their confrontations.
Unfortunately for Severus, the 'vicious inner thoughts' he held were less about house differences, murder, and war loyalties than they were about the unusual feelings that coursed through him when arguing with the raven-haired Scotswoman this year.
The situation which truly and undoubtedly disturbed Severus to the absolute end of his rope was this very reaction to Minerva's attitude.
Severus would slowly go mad with the manner of their interactions, no doubts about that. Each confrontation led him further to a point of losing his self-control entirely. Whatever could be said of him, Severus knew no one had ever – not in their wildest thoughts – imagined the things making merry hell in his brain once he realized Minerva's demeanor had become much more personal and violent than before. Severus had become fascinated by the strength and vitality of her dagger-studded temperament.
Severus was a man with singular tastes in women; one might even call his tastes masochistic, considering the challenge they presented – in following through with the relationship, anyway.
Only one other had ever caught his attention so strongly before… Lily. She had been a lovely creature – inside, as well as out. The fight in Lily had kept Severus in line, while (ironically) still bringing out his argumentative side.
Severus would never forget how he felt for Lily Evans. The love he had felt for her never faded from him completely, although his feelings were clearly trying their damnedest to make another place in that tiny, cramped vessel he called a heart.
Fire had risen to new heights within Severus in the years since Lily died. His heart always sped up when the fire of any emotion kindled inside him. Severus' heart now sped naturally faster than it had in his youth. In his stubborn, enduring love for Lily, however, the wizard felt as though he slowed his new heart rate to match the old pace.
This year, that had begun to change.
Minerva utterly captivated him. Severus wanted her by his side, as he had never before thought he would. He wanted the vivid, fighting viper Minerva had been since September to stand with him as his equal (his better, really). Minerva now kept Severus in line while still encouraging his arguments, even if only subconsciously. As a matter of fact, she was even fierier than Lily had ever been.
Perhaps that was why his heart rate did not slow anymore. It had no need to return to the pace it had held in the past, for there was a new heart he needed to keep up with – Minerva's. As fast as the woman's heart seemed to pace itself, there was no need for slowing down his own to match it.
Now, shortly before the Easter holidays were to begin, Severus came so near the end of his limits with the fire of Minerva that he had holed himself up in the headmaster's office as much as possible. Luckily, in the new headmaster's opinion, the dark lord planned to summon the Carrows very late that night for other, less savory work outside of Hogwarts that was to last a number of days. Severus felt equally disgusted and intrigued the dark lord trusted him enough to pull the siblings out in such a manner. The Slytherin students were hardly an adequate replacement for the two blood-crazed animals soon-to-be absent, so trust could be the only reason for the dark lord's move.
It made no real difference what the reasons or causes might be; Severus knew school business would continue smoothly if Minerva had a freer reign. She was undeniably efficient and had been given dominant charge of the school for most of her career there. Dumbledore always had bigger things to do.
As a portrait in the headmaster's office, Dumbledore remained far less worried about the school he had so long headed than he should have been. In fact, he would not even appear to be awake with anyone else in the room, no matter what difficulties they might be discussing with Severus.
That particular portrait had been driving him out of his mind for days. Albus Dumbledore had a knack for knowing a person's complete heart when they truly were in desperation over a circumstance; even when he was only 'alive' through paint, charms, and canvas.
Albus somehow knew, despite the fact it never showed itself to the world, that Severus had reluctantly begun to fall hard for Minerva – in his own odd way, of course.
Each and every incident with Minerva led to a chat with Dumbledore afterwards. Constant questions flooded from the wizard's portrait after the head of Gryffindor left the room. 'Why?' and 'how?' and 'when?' and all sorts of ridiculous things which had nothing to do with the real problem – such as how in hell Severus was supposed to live with it or what he could do to fix it. No good would ever come, for either Minerva or himself, if Severus were to enable his – as Albus had so distastefully put it – 'romantic' feelings for the witch.
The former headmaster reacted with infuriating calm about the entire subject. Nothing seemed to faze him. No amount of cursing or threatening on Severus' part, nor begging for advice on how to change the situation, moved Albus Dumbledore. For some ungodly reason, the old wizard did not appear to care Severus' heart bent towards a new woman and not the one he had begged to be saved sixteen years ago.
The wizard stared out the long window across the room, gazing into the early evening as dusk descended upon Hogwarts, wondering what on earth he could do about this unhappy situation.
As an obnoxious knocking sounded at his door, Severus' turned abruptly and called out for his not-so-unexpected visitor to enter.
Unsurprisingly, Alecto Carrow thrust her way into the office as though she owned the place. The headmaster's raised brow was enough to goad her into speech.
"There's been a nasty bit of resistance from some of the brats," Alecto fairly cackled, probably pleased she had some misbehavior for which she might be able to punish some poor fool, "and a professor at the head of it. You better come and see for yourself."
Intrigued and worried in equal measure, Severus nodded sharply and followed the witch out of his office and through the school. His anxiety rose a notch when he realized they were not going to the so-called defense classroom. Worry rose a couple more notches when they entered the great hall. Apparently, Amycus had decided his 'class' was one that should be taught with a great many spectators.
A very reluctant crowd of students stood rigidly just in front of the staff table. Most were sixth and seventh years from every house, although Severus could not fathom why some would be missing if a demonstration was in order; aside from the obvious exemptions of Lovegood, Thomas, and Potter and his two devotees.
Then again, upon compiling a list of students present… Brown looking frightened and the Patil twins sharing uncomfortable glances at the former's elbows, a badly bruised Finnigan, black-eyed Longbottom, and the youngest Weasley showing every ounce of her defiance beside the two equally defiant Creevey brothers… A wary Susan Bones in cahoots with the suspicious murmurings of Abbott, Macmillan, Finch-Fletchley, and Smith… Boot, Goldstein, and Corner, all with a few bruises each, standing behind the Patil girls…
Almost all the members of Potter's illustrious student defense group stood before Severus.
Was it mere coincidence, despite the fact Severus heavily disbelieved in chance? Yet where could the Carrows have gained the list of members? Umbridge had held it last, perhaps the minister; but Death Eaters...
Ah, but of course… Lucius.
If Draco's father had not arranged for someone to filch the list from the ministry somehow during his imprisonment or after his release, then Severus would be quite shocked. Perhaps Narcissa herself had completed the small mission. Surely the elder Malfoy would have seen such a list as a foolproof way of getting to Potter through his friends. To the detriment of Lucius, he had likely been unaware of the dark lord's plans for the boy-who-lived until rather shortly before they were implemented.
Trust no longer extended to the Malfoys; only an overindulgence on their hospitality. Really, the list of Potter's friends would be useless anyway. Most of the names on the blasted piece of parchment were watched, captured, or interrogated already, thanks to either their loyalties or their blood status. Those that were not, had gleaned enough sense to go underground long before now or were stuck in Hogwarts with three Death Eaters.
All the same, these individuals were not randomly selected. And whatever might be said of Amycus, the brute was not unprepared to prove his point, whatever it may be.
The remaining members of the current Gryffindor Quidditch team filled out the list nicely – from the standpoint of the Carrows. Severus had an awful gut feeling Minerva's house had been whispering too loudly of their formidable resistance. Less likely, but still remotely possible, the witch herself had mouthed off to Amycus before she could reign in her temper. The latter would be undesirable at the best of times, let alone now. 'Now' was not the best of times by half.
Pushing away the dread clenching in his stomach as best he could, Severus forced himself to think on other things. Draco was missing early for the Easter holidays, which was much to Severus' tastes at the present time. He did not need the superbly suspicious eye of young Mr. Malfoy to make his life difficult in such an unfortunate circumstance. Nevertheless, the eyes of a wily Zabini, keen Nott, and nosy Parkinson were surely observant enough. They, the same as their fellow Slytherins, were very much in their element as they policed the ill-at-ease members of the other houses.
The watching students had been stationed in a row facing the floor, which had been cleared of the house tables for this lesson.
'Torture session' was perhaps a better way of phrasing it, but Severus was far more concerned with the circumstances surrounding this phenomenon than its title.
Severus again felt a great sense of unease he could not explain, particularly once he realized every member of this group seemed perfectly positioned to watch whatever might take place in the middle of the floor. There was no true reason why this should so suddenly make the headmaster uncomfortable, though. The dark arts class this year was always taught with easy viewing in mind. Still, a lingering feeling of sinister intention became undeniably difficult to ignore.
One particular group of students seemed to feel at least equally as uncomfortable with the situation as Severus did. More than the general discomfort of facing another dark arts lesson, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, and Ginny Weasley all flittered anxiously without – as Severus highly suspected – really understanding why. Their glares were nonetheless full of acid as they caught sight of their hated headmaster watching calmly over the proceedings.
Crabbe and Goyle led the Slytherin 'guards' with polar opposite reactions, clearly enjoying their new offensive positions to the hilt.
Off to the side of the assembly, Amycus Carrow stood with Minerva McGonagall's reluctant form beside him. Minerva's uniquely exquisite face featured a supremely annoyed expression. The arm captured by Amycus' large hand had a great deal to do with the last, Severus felt sure.
"Overheard a plan," Alecto finally stated impatiently, malice in her eyes, "to try and overtake you, headmaster."
"We caught the professor," Amycus sneered the last word as though it was something beneath his shoe and shook Minerva's arm for emphasis, "meeting in secret with some of her brats about it."
Said 'brats' scowled so furiously the headmaster imagined it very wise Amycus had already looked away. While Severus was used to such righteous anger, the Carrows were not.
If looks could truly kill, though, the Carrows would have been six feet under on their very first day at the school.
Amycus tossed Minerva's wand carelessly to the floor, his face almost eager, and caused Severus to glower inside. He highly suspected Amycus of faking the 'secret meeting' in order to call Minerva out as a traitor.
Oh, no doubt the wizard had chanced to see Minerva in the corridors at some point that evening. No doubt she had truly been speaking to her students about something – not that it was likely to be anything as obvious as a plan to overtake Severus. Amycus likely retracted Minerva's wand before she even knew he was within sight of her. If the man had been close enough for Minerva to notice, Severus held no illusions that the woman's wand would ever be lying on the floor now.
Even more to the point, if Minerva had realized the wizard's presence and intention, Amycus Carrow would more than likely be a mere puddle of frog spawn and his wand tucked tightly away in the woman's pocket – or perhaps just snapped into pieces, as Severus so often wished.
Severus absently summoned his colleague's wand from the floor before he spoke.
"I see."
The headmaster injected enough coldness and suspicion to make Amycus smile despicably – a smile which chilled Severus' blood. He knew exactly what sorts of things Amycus Carrow had done just after displaying that exact smirk. No matter how ignorant Amycus Carrow appeared to be, he was an unsavory specimen of Death Eater who had enough – for lack of a better term… intimate – knowledge of non-magical torture methods to make Severus violently ill.
Severus had no wish to see it unleashed anywhere near Minerva McGonagall; the thought was primeval and disgusting.
The Gryffindors present glared ever more fiercely at Severus' vague and icy response, almost daring him to punish them for whatever plot the Carrows had supposedly uncovered.
Minerva, for her part, raised one dark eyebrow slightly, not bothering to put in a comment yet. Her eyes did, however, glance briefly to Amycus' hand when he tightened his already vice-like grip upon her right arm. The force being applied must have been painful, but Minerva said nothing, appearing as placid as a frozen river.
A near smirk at the corner of Severus' mouth could easily be misinterpreted as malice, but inside, he gloated about the witch's unimpressionable attitude. Amycus could only be seething and smarting at this subdued reaction to his normally unfailing techniques.
When it appeared obvious there would be no response forthcoming, Amycus spat at Minerva, "Admit it, woman!"
The wizard snapped Minerva's arm sharply enough that it left all except the Slytherins to mutter angrily.
Severus winced internally. It was not as though anything broke, thank Merlin, but the other man's tone drew a great deal more wariness out of Severus than usual. Something seemed different tonight that he could not place.
Of course, a number of times already that day, Minerva had made Amycus furious with her sharp tongue. More than usual, in fact. Minerva was generally more careful than that.
Unless something had truly happened – something Amycus had done the previous night, while Severus was holed up in the Headmaster's office. Something Minerva could never let pass… There were several options Severus could imagine, but he hoped to whatever forces existed that none had occurred.
"I haven't got all night to wait!" passed Amycus' lips and Lavender Brown's face blanched in Severus' peripheral vision.
An abnormally terrified expression covered the girl's face and automatically made Severus' hope drop to the stone floor. Amycus must have done something to the girl that had nothing to do with the dark arts class. Minerva had found out, intervened, or at least suspected. Whatever the case, this did not bode well. Whatever might happen just now, Severus was glad to be rid of Amycus Carrow for a time, however brief.
"I doubt conversation with the students is against regulations, Headmaster?" Minerva at last spoke coldly to Severus alone, snapping her arm from the other man's grip. Evil though she saw him as being, Severus was at least deemed 'conversation-worthy,' no matter how stinging the talks he received. In some strange way, that comforted him. "Unless your newest staff members haven't the inclination to further their intelligence by reading those regulations?"
"I've had enough of your tongue today!" Amycus nearly roared at Minerva, causing a look of disgust to cross the witch's features when spittle landed on the front of her dark robes.
The Gryffindors were obviously seething, no matter how inadvertent the gesture may have been. Had it been done to a fellow student, they would already have shouted their indignant defenses, but one very important difference between now and most other times was the object of Amycus' threats. Severus had to admire, however grudgingly, their willingness to tamp down the typical Gryffindor tendency toward reckless chivalry. Defending Minerva at that moment could have been disastrous to her health. Common sense was not lost on Gryffindors after all, it seemed.
"How does this relate to the current assemblage of students?" Severus queried of Amycus with supposed disinterest.
"The professor here," Alecto spoke up with undisguised glee in her voice, "doesn't seem to know the rules as well as we do. We wanted to help her understand 'em."
"And her students could help her understand even better," suggested Amycus with a nasty grin.
Severus was not pleased by this. No, not at all.
If Minerva were tortured by some of her own students, it would have a dark effect on Hogwarts. Of this, Severus felt certain. The reaction to this statement – from Longbottom and Weasley, particularly – was proof enough of that.
Minerva McGonagall stood as an indestructible pillar to the youth in the castle – even by some of the very young Slytherins who were not as certain of their futures with the dark lord. Most present would not be able to perform a satisfactory cruciatus curse, let alone on their respected professor, but none would fail to at least raise their wand and say the word. They would succeed in that, at least, because Minerva would never want them tortured in her stead. Even a competely unsuccessful attempt, however, would degenerate the whole institution. What would happen if the natural balance between mentor and student were compromised in this way?
"You felt it necessary for these students," said Severus doubtfully, "to take part in what they already learn in your class, Amycus?"
"Maybe her own house would be best," Alecto added maliciously.
"Professor McGonagall has always believed 'teaching by example' is the best way to instill knowledge," came Theodore Nott's strangely oily tone, "but maybe it would better for interhouse unity if all the houses were able to help?"
This mocking reply grated on many an ear, but for Severus, it caused extreme alarm. On one hand, it disturbed him how quickly Nott had tried to become as loyal to the dark lord as his father throughout the past few months. More disturbing than even this was the essence of what the seventh-year had said, none of which seemed to fully penetrate the other students' minds.
Now, at last, Severus understood. The Slytherins were not there to police the others, as he had previously thought. They, fully capable of casting that dreaded curse upon anyone – up to and including their own mothers – would have no trouble torturing Minerva. Indeed, the fools would relish the chance to lord themselves over the powerful head of Gryffindor as she writhed in pain on the floor.
Severus would have to circumvent this at all costs, testament to his theory of the balance between teacher and student. The Carrows could torture Minerva in front of every student there and yet still the spirit of the anti-Voldemort movement would stand firm. Flip the roles and all became anarchy.
"And you, Nott…" Severus drawled languidly, cocking an eyebrow in condescension. "I assume you feel that you are the most worthy to teach this valuable lesson?"
No one except Minerva could have ever noticed the bitter sarcasm which fairly oozed off the word 'valuable,' but said witch no longer felt interested in the nuances of her colleague – as she had been before his supposed betrayal.
As Serverus had expected, Nott looked faintly ruffled by this dressing-down and said no more as he wilted back into the line of wand-wielding Slytherins. Amycus looked less than pleased someone rocked his boat.
"Who, but for myself," Severus went on in a voice of deadly quiet, "has the… ah… privilege of teaching the rebellious Professor McGonagall her lesson?"
The mild leer in his words left no one in doubt of the headmaster's presumed intentions.
Minerva's eyes narrowed to slits of venomous gray and her students' near-silent fury on her behalf was admittedly just as great. Amycus looked far less satisfied than that, if possible; no doubt he wanted more of a personal hand in Minerva's punishment. Severus ruthlessly suppressed a shudder at the very idea.
"Two heads are better than one."
Amycus' sneering innuendo gave the Headmaster a most sickening urge to gag on his own breath.
Every single student who was not from Slytherin gasped and cried out their shock at the blatant remark. Lavender Brown's face paled to near-translucence and the Patils gathered closer to her in reassurance. A muscle jumped violently in Minerva's jaw. Regardless of what façade she played for the people around her, that little movement indicated her growing fear to Severus.
"You are disgusting!" Minerva spat with fire in spite of her fright, voice filled with all the revulsion she could muster.
Within a moment, several things happened in rapid succession, none of which Severus could have predicted accurately. Amycus made a harsh sort of motion with his empty hands that alerted Minerva's sharp eyes to impending danger. Almost as quickly, Minerva attempted to back away from the man in a swift and nimble rush of her feet. Amycus was already lumbering towards her, stretching long arms forward without even reaching for his own wand. To Minerva's great misfortune, the wizard's arms had a farther reach than her legs had carried her from him.
Every Gryffindor roared their protest, attempting to aid their protector. The many Slytherin wands pointed at them more than adequately halted any progress they might have made.
Severus was horribly blindsided by the abrupt chain of events. Even if he had imagined some fool-proof plan to help his colleague without exposing his allegiances to everyone, it would be impossible to implement it here. Severus felt furiously sick with himself for being so utterly useless.
Alecto, contrarily to all, stood beside the Headmaster cackling her sick enjoyment of the scene.
With no hesitation, Amycus used both of his large hands to grab Minerva's waist in a vice-like grip and slam her thin, half-wasted body beneath him in the middle of the floor. True to her character, Minerva did not cry out, even as her head smashed against the floor and the much heavier body of her attacker landed atop her. Quite unlike her enraged Gryffindors, who were being thrown back with curses and hexes as they made their best effort to rush forward.
"NO!"
"Leave her alone!"
"Get AWAY from her!"
The voices of the students became indiscriminant as they all yelled for dominance above the horror of their situation. It was perfectly impossible to tell which student said what. Only the words themselves penetrated Severus' mind, as they echoed his own mental barrage with precise consistency.
Yet he could do nothing. Nothing at all or else risk destroying his precarious position with the dark lord. Too much was at stake to throw it all away on even this horrid scene.
In another gruesome turn of events, Amycus ripped out his wand and jabbed it towards Minerva's pooled skirt. Severus worried feverishly what horror was to be expected by this gesture, but immediately realized he need not have thought further than generic torture.
The definitive cracking sound was nothing compared to the raw, unexpected scream which erupted from Minerva's throat and silenced her would-be defenders with shock. Minerva's twisting countenance looked almost gruesome as she fell back awkwardly in her agony, left leg obviously broken beneath her robes and tears streaming from her tightly closed eyes.
Amycus' features emitted absolute glee; he enjoyed causing pain as much as Bellatrix.
As if to confirm this incomprehensible description, Amycus continued his retribution by tearing Minerva's wand arm in a horrifyingly awkward direction. Another scream rent the air, only to abruptly cut off as Amycus added insult to injury by slapping Minerva's face with all of his might. The corresponding smack of her face to hard stone echoed up to the rafters in horrifying detail and blood flooded the witch's lips, sickeningly stark against her pale skin and the light stone of the floor. Severus knew for certain some of Minerva's teeth were at least cracked from the force of it, if not entirely broken.
The headmaster forced himself – with every fiber of his being – not to react rashly and thereby expose himself.
He so wished to curse the beast and his sister; Severus' instincts begged him to do so, if for no other reason than a tribute to Minerva's fair treatment of him in school and on staff. He could not allow himself to think of the deeper reasons beating against his rigid chest. As it was, Severus' hands shook violently in response.
Minerva was unable to restrain more tears and heaving breaths, her wand arm lying uselessly distorted off to the side and her raven hair pitched about her head after having been so violently forced from it constraints. Brown and the Patils cried unrestrainedly, clutching each other in terror. Longbottom, Finnigan, and Ginny Weasley looked utterly beside themselves, cursing and fighting tooth and nail to get past Crabbe, Goyle, and Bulstrode, all of whom held their wands with disturbing steadiness. They did not look the least bit disturbed, for they had been well-trained by their mindless fathers.
"Thought you liked a bit of sharpness?" Amycus taunted jeeringly, landing two hard blows to his captive's chest. As Minerva choked on her pride and her tears, Finnigan cussed darkly in his fury, Ginny Weasley finally allowed tears to fall unchecked, and Longbottom looked as ready to spit flames.
Nott didn't look nearly as keen as he had before, in fact he looked vaguely ill. Davis, Zabini, Greengrass… they all appeared disgusted; Parkinson looked mildly uncomfortable herself.
Even from where he watched, Severus recognized the trembling he had seen a decidedly rare number of times before in his colleague, whenever Minerva was desperately terrified and vulnerable. The very idea this vivid witch full of courage and strength could not help but expose her weakness for all to see, simply killed him. And still Severus could do nothing.
Severus had been building a full repertoire of sick, twisted things Hogwarts never should have been and never should have played host to, all of which had occurred this very year under his twisted leadership. This – breaking down the strongest protector Hogwarts had – was one of them. It was supposed to be important to him. It was supposed to be what he wanted.
Severus Snape had rarely wanted anything so little in his entire life.
A/N: I will assuredly be writing a sequel one-shot for this, but not right now. Sorry to leave you hanging as to how it ends, but Damages is a priority at the moment. I just needed a break to get back in the groove of that story; I was burnt out for a little bit. This break into new territory has helped immensely.
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