The Carrows' Calling
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to us. All credit goes to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter Thirteen
The pain shot through her body, but she was used to it now. Very used to it. The knife had lowered into her cheek, slowly but surely. It now felt like a paper cut to her, compared to everything that she had endured.
The knife left her cheek with a rough pull from the wielder. It left blood running down her face, trickling into her mouth. She could taste it on her tongue, the metallic, off-sweet liquid that came from her own blood-red veins. And the scary thing was that it felt normal, to have pain in her body. Pain had strengthened her, against everything else in the world. Funny, how pain would fight pain.
It was almost becoming repetitive. Is this all you have?
The worry about her family, about everything, faded away when the knife touched her face. Sometimes, in fact, she was glad for the pain. It washed away everything else. Once again, pain battled pain on the field; blood ran free, turning the world and skies red.
The knife came again, and she welcomed it with open arms. She forgot about where she was, who she was, and everything happening in the room. It was just her, and the knife.
Why am I having these thoughts? Is there something wrong with me?
Luna watched with horror as the knife was cut into her friend's cheek. Her mind raced back to how she got it.
"No." Professor Carrow's eyes widened. He glared at Ginny. She repeated what she had said. "No." Professor Carrow snarled, and seemed to have made up his mind.
"Have it your way, then." He pulled out a long, gleaming, silver dagger from behind his desk. It was covered with dry blood.
Ginny didn't have any reaction; seemed to have predicted this already. She remained as still as stone, sitting in her chair, a statue.
Professor Carrow walked up to Ginny, raised the dagger, and cut it into her cheek. Ginny showed no reaction, no flinch to the pain; instead, in a twisted, evil contrast, Luna thought Ginny had even relaxed a bit. The professor lifted the dagger off Ginny's cheek roughly, spurting blood all over her face.
Ginny still didn't show any type of emotion. The knife came again, on the other cheek, and even deeper than the last cut. Luna shuddered and looked away; she could see a little bit of white bone.
Professor Carrow once again raised the knife off her face, the blood trickling down Ginny's cheek.
Why am I not stopping this? Luna questioned herself, panicked.
A small, reasoning voice whispered out, because if you do, he'll do something worse. You know that. The others do, too. Luna cast her gaze to Ginny, apology clear in her eyes, but Ginny's face was blank, she was not looking at Luna. There was relief in her eyes.
"Are you going to listen to me now?" Ginny stared at him dead in the eye, unmoving.
"No." Ginny calmly replied, not taking her eyes off the professor once.
Professor Carrow glared at Ginny once more. He pushed the tip of the (now even more) bloodstained knife slightly into her neck. Luna shivered, she could see the skin straining, almost broken.
"Are you going to do it?" he spat.
"No." He pushed the knife a little deeper. A small trickle of blood ran down from the edge.
Ginny still seemed to be holding it together; Luna still didn't see her show any expression on her face. The knife was still at her throat.
Luna flashed back to reality as she heard Professor Carrow's manic cackle. She blinked, and looked at Ginny in utter terror.
The knife was digging into Ginny's jaw. Luna gasped as it pierced her chin; saw the blood.
Then, suddenly, freezing the entire room, the door opened.
The first thing Severus Snape saw, was Ginny Weasley sitting stoically in a chair, Professor Carrow with a knife at her throat, and the rest of the class looking at him in pure shock.
Professor Carrow didn't seem to realise that he was there, he seemed too engrossed at the moment, and asked Ginny a question.
"Are you going to do it?" Judging by Ginny's almost bored look, he must've asked many times already.
"No." Severus watched as Professor Carrow dug the knife even deeper into her throat, the trickle of blood running down her neck faster.
Her cheeks had gashes on them, the one on the left side deeper than the other. If Severus looked close enough, he would be able to see a bit of bone peeking through the ripped and bleeding flesh.
Severus felt a chill run down his spine. So this is what Ginny's been going through all this time.
Ginny didn't seem to have any kind of reaction to the knife at her throat—she seemed to relax at the cut.
Professor Carrow grinned vilely, and begun to twist the knife. That was when Severus spoke up, unable to tolerate this any further.
"Professor Carrow? May I ask what you are doing?" Severus spoke sharply, not bothering to conceal the anger in his voice. Professor Carrow looked up from the knife. He quickly placed in on a nearby table, as if he could pretend that he wasn't using it. Ha, nice try, I'm not as stupid as you.
"Headmaster! What a… pleasant surprise!" Severus raised an eyebrow, not convinced at all.
"Did you not get the note that I sent you earlier this morning?" Severus indeed did slip a note into Professor Carrow's office desk, but didn't expect him to get it anyway. Does that man ever clean it?
"No, I did not, Headmaster. What was it about?" Dunderhead. You would've known if you read it!
"You may read it after your class. But right now, I would like a word with Miss. Weasley." Professor Carrow looked shocked, glancing at Ginny's cuts fearfully, but didn't push him. He nodded reluctantly and said,
"O-of course, Headmaster. She's all yours."
Ginny was still sitting there, the blood steadily trickling onto her shirt, a little shocked by Severus' appearance, and although Severus didn't want to, he barked at her to follow.
"Miss. Weasley! My office!"
Ginny snapped out of her thoughts, and numbly followed Severus as if she was a robot. Severus left the room, his robes billowing behind him, with Ginny Weasley trailing him, lost in her mind.
Severus came to a stop at an ugly looking gargoyle that asked for a password.
"My Lord," Severus whispered, completely hating the identification. He walked silently into his office and sat down in the chair that Albus Dumbledore once occupied, his flapping robes resting on the ground beside him.
He wordlessly cast a silencing charm on the office. Ginny walked into the room, closed the door and began to walk up to him.
Severus silently studied her, to get a better look, and noticed that there were actually cuts all over her face; one on each cheek, one on the forehead, and a trickle of blood was running down from a the recent cut at her throat. Though that one was bad, the one on her left cheek, the cut with the bone showing, was the one Severus was most worried about. How could they do something like this, and to a student?
Well, I shouldn't be surprised, Severus thought darkly. It's not like it never happened before.
Blood, both old and fresh, painted her robes, but her head was still raised high, and the expression on her face haughty.
"Miss. Weasley. What did you do in Professor Carrow's class?" Severus said quietly, pressing her for an answer. Ginny paused for a moment, seemed to think, before speaking.
"I refused to do what he asked," Ginny said, pride evident in her voice.
"What did he ask of you?" Severus asked, mostly out of his own curiosity.
"Why do you care?" The words seemed to have slipped out of Ginny's mouth, but she didn't seem to regret them. Severus repeated his question, a bit more persistent.
"What did he ask of you?" Ginny was silent. Then she began to speak, slightly faster.
"He asked me to admit that muggle-borns and muggles are useless and should be killed."
Even as she said this, Severus could see the hatred clearly etched on Ginny's bloodied face. On the inside, Severus sighed. Dear girl, why didn't you just do what he asked? It could've spared you from all this.
"I see. Is it right to defy your professors?" Ginny didn't reply, looking past Severus, at nothing in particular.
"Is it?" Severus asked once more, determined to get Ginny to speak. She was still stubbornly silent.
He decided to try a different tactic.
"We both know they can get away with this. Even if they did the Cruciatus Curse." Ginny's eyes flickered over to his for a second, but then she went back over to staring at nothing in particular. She then suddenly spoke, the words coming out of her mouth sounding forced, as though pulled from her tongue.
"I don't care. I won't do what the Carrows tell me to."
"Even with the Unforgivable Curses?" Severus pressed on firmly.
"Like I said," Ginny slightly snapped, "I don't care."
"But I do." The words escaped from Severus' mouth naturally, before he could stop them.
Ginny looked taken aback. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it soon after. She seemed on a verge of a discovery.
Maybe I can help her. He thought, watching Ginny's confused expression, planning.
His eyes flicked from Ginny's cut arm, to her forehead. Severus looked Ginny straight in the eye, seeing if she got the message. She did.
"I…may I leave?" Ginny muttered, then turned around and quickly left, leaving the door ajar behind her.
'"Please, spare her, it's me you want anyways!" She begged helplessly. The man laughed at her despair.
"Do you really think that I would spare her? For you?"
The girl being held by the man's hands fell limp at his feet. Her brilliant, fiery red hair spilled over her freckled face. Her warm brown eyes that reminded Minerva so much of her mother, stared unknowingly at the ceiling that she could no longer see. Blood ran down her face, from cuts all over, both new and old.
One of the gashes on her cheek showed a pure white bone, just peeking out of the ripped and torn flesh.
Minerva's arms were chained behind her, to a post made from a scalding metal that seemed to burn on forever. Her wrists were already red from the heat, and some of the skin was beginning to peel off.
But none of this affected Minerva. Her mind was on the girl in front of her, and nothing else. She stared into the eyes of the man before her. They with a menacing blue, an ice hot flame burning inside them.
She stared, betrayed, into the eyes of the man that she had once loved, a man that she had trusted everything with.
"How could you do this? To us? To her?" Minerva pleaded with tear-filled eyes.
The man looked at her face, studying her. Blue eyes met green, an invisible force burning between them.
"Perhaps in the same way you have hurt me." The confusion on Minerva's face must've shown, because the man walked closer, began to speak,"Minnie dear—" He cut off this sentence suddenly, and seemed to be lost in thought, when his eyes darkened. He raised the knife that had just killed the girl in front of her. His eyes shown no regret, no forgiveness. Those beautiful blue eyes, eyes that Minerva had once lost herself in and found love and hope in, burned with hatred.
Then the knife came down upon her throat, and she fell into a pit of darkness.
Severus sat in his cold, hard-backed chair that once belonged to Albus Dumbledore, his mouth gaping, very much like the door that Ginny had left open. He promptly collected himself together, and wordlessly closed the door with his wand.
That didn't go as well as I hoped.
He placed his head in his hands; elbows resting on the desk. Had he pushed her too far? After all, the girl had just been cut by a knife more than a multiple times and probably had been threatened for her throat to be slit, too. Did he do the right thing? Severus looked up at the portrait, hanging on the wall behind him, for guidance.
A man dressed in elaborate purple robes scattered with different stars and constellations, sat in a purple armchair, very much like the one found in Professor McGonagall's office. He had a long white beard that was nearly the same length as his hair, which both could've been tucked into his belt if he wanted to, decorated with exquisite, sparkling blue patterns. The blue on his belt matched his twinkling eyes that seemed to pierce through Severus whenever he looked at him. A pair of squared-off glasses were perched on his crooked nose; they looked as if it were broken more than a few times.
Another robe, a cloak this time, a emerald green one, was draped across the back of his chair, giving off a striking colour contrast. A small desk sat behind the chair, on it sat a bag of sherbet lemons, and a small knitting project. The walls in the room were painted a pale dandelion yellow, adding to the strange quirkiness of the scene.
The man's was directed at Severus, his eyes questioning, as if he was waiting for him to speak.
"Headmaster, do you think I pushed her too far?"
Severus really didn't want to ask Dumbledore; it would show weakness. However, he knew he had to ask.
Dumbledore looked at Severus, his head cocked to one side. "Severus, my boy, how do you see it?" His blue twinkling eyes seemed to be brighter than ever.
Severus sighed, and looked up at Dumbledore with an exasperated expression. "Headmaster!" But instead of saying anything, Professor Dumbledore simply chuckled, his eyes sparkling with humour.
"Severus, please, I am dead." He seemed not to notice Severus' flinch at the word, and continued. "You are Headmaster now. It's your job to lead the school."
Dumbledore's words seemed to have struck Severus harder than he had thought. Lead the school. Some leader I have been.
"You're the one who insisted that I kill you! I can't lead this school! I'll only ruin it!" Severus cried out, pointing at Dumbledore.
The old headmaster's eyes turned sad at his outburst of anger. "Severus, do you really think that you cannot lead this school? You have faced so many things, including the Dark Lord himself," Dumbledore said.
Severus turned away from the portrait. "I can barely protect the ones I love," his quivering voice was just above a whisper.
"That doesn't mean you can't try," Dumbledore replied, with much more force.
"I have!" Severus protested. " I have done everything you have asked of me, but—" he was cut off by a loud knock at his door. Thank Merlin I casted a silencing charm.
Severus sat back down at his desk, with the portrait now silent, and pretended that he was working on paperwork. He drew out a piece of parchment and dipped his quill, (that he had gotten from Minerva), and began to draw. His hand lead the way, his mind not really sure of what he was doing.
"Come in." The tall door opened, and in came Professor Amycus Carrow. Severus looked up from his work and glanced at the other man. He was dressed in black robes, very much like his own, and one of his hands were in his pocket. A putrid scent radiated off of him; onions and old unwashed socks, now mingled with the metallic scent of a red substance that Severus was very familiar with. There appeared to be none on his robes, but dried blood could definitely have blended in with the black. Professor Carrow walked into the office and stopped at the front of Severus's desk.
"Headmaster."
"Professor Carrow. How may I help you?" Severus asked politely. He did realise that he would normally never speak like that, especially to someone like the Amycus Carrow, but he had to keep the Carrows' on his books.
Professor Carrow had drew his hand out of his robes and began twiddling his thumbs nervously. Severus could smell both fresh and dried blood on his robes now that he was closer. Severus could still feel his hand drawing on the piece of parchment. Funny, how I yell at students to stop with the doodling.
"Headmaster, I have come to you to discuss the situation about Miss. Weasley," Professor Carrow said, still fiddling with his fingers. Severus's eyebrows raised up. What about her? Don't tell me she's gotten into more trouble, I just spoke to her!
"What about her? I know that she is a very troubling girl." Professor Carrow visibly relaxed at this statement.
"She has become very troublesome in my classes. In my sister's too. But not as much in her other classes." Severus was not surprised. He knew that Ginerva Weasley absolutely despised both him and the Carrows. He could see the fire burning in her eyes whenever he spoke to her.
"How?"
"She simply doesn't listen to me! Won't do anything I ask her to!" Severus raised an eyebrow.
"Have you tried detentions?" Severus asked, even though he knew that Ginny had already been through nearly dozens of them.
"Yes, I have. The girl is simply trouble!" If you think Ginny is trouble, you really should meet the twins.
"And you propose to…" Severus left his sentence unfinished.
"I would like to have her expelled," Professor Carrow stated, eyes gleaming, clasping his hands in front of him. Severus once again smelt the scent of blood.
"The Dark Lord does not like to have any students leave the school." Severus stated, speaking his unspoken denial.
Professor Carrow's face dropped like a ton of bricks. "Very well then. Forgive me for intruding on your time." he said, a bit coldly. And with those words, Professor Carrow left the room, closing the door behind with a loud snap. Severus thought he heard swearing on his way out. He shrugged. I guess he hates Ginny just as much as I hate him.
Then, Severus had just realised that he had stopped doodling. He looked down at his sheet of parchment. A faint smile lit up on his face. The drawing was of Amycus Carrow, and Severus had widened his features, making him look more and more digusting at the moment. Who knew my imagination had no bounds?
Minerva sat bolt upright in her bed, gasping for air. Her body, despite having woken up already, still felt like it had been cut with knives and burned with fire. Note to self, never ever take a nap in the middle of the day.
Minerva had the day off; Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick were willing to take over her classes. She hadn't wanted to, but Pomana had begged her to stop wearing herself out, to swallow her pride for once.
Minerva supposed that Pomana had been right… the person that looked back at her in the mirror was a complete stranger. There were huge bags under her normally bright green eyes that had seemed to have darkened, as if a passing storm clouded them. She had drastically lost weight, her night-clothes hanging off of her thin frame. Her long ebony black hair had noticeably more streaks of grey in them than before. It was tied into a long french braid that hung down her back, and, already, more than a few strands of hair had began to escape.
Minerva sighed wearily. Her thoughts strayed back to the nightmare she had. Would Elphinstone really hurt her, his own wife, like that? Hurt Ginny like that?
No, Minerva, she scolded herself. You must not think like that. Your husband would never do that to you. Elphinstone wouldn't do that. He loved you. He loves you.
Minerva swung her sore legs over the side of the bed, only to feel the cold hard floor. She picked up her wand off of her nightstand and wordlessly summoned the bright pair of ridiculously orange slippers that Albus gave her. When she slipped her feet into the feather-soft shoes, she felt a pang of sorrow. Albus. The last time she had spoken to her best friend was right before he left for his mission with Harry. Right before his death.
Albus Dumbledore sat in the large, tall-backed chair that was meant for the Headmaster, with his left hand that was blackened and scarred on the desk in front of him, and the other hand tightly grasping his wand. He seemed deep in thought when Minerva, working up her nerve, finally approached him.
"Albus?" She asked tentatively. He looked up, the usual sparkle in his eyes dampened, as if the world had turned to shades of gray. He straightened when when he realised that Minerva was there.
"Ah, Minerva! What a surprise!"
She narrowed her eyes at him, worried and concerned; the brightness in his voice was forced, something was off.
"Albus, you're not actually going to Hogsmeade, are you?" Albus had told the staff that he was departing for the small wizarding village near Hogwarts for an urgent errand.
Dumbledore looked at Minerva with a sad gloom in his eyes.
"No, Minerva, I'm not." His face was filled with an incredible sadness.
"Then, where are you going?" Minerva asked, trying not to let the fear seep through her voice.
"I cannot tell you that. I'm sorry, my friend." It was too much for her. Would Albus come back alive?
"Then promise me you will come back." Dumbledore shook his head with a melancholy look on his face.
''I cannot promise you that either, Minerva. I'm sorry."
I should've stopped him, thought Minerva sadly, the guilt rushing back full-force, just as much as that day. Now, now, hindsight isn't a good habit.
She snapped back to reality as she heard a knock on her office door. Minerva grabbed her tartan patterned nightgown, wiped her eyes, and hurried to the door. She was reluctant to open it; didn't want people to see her like this. But why should you be ashamed about Albus's gift?
Her hand rested on the gold, lion-headed handle of the tall spruce door. Another knock came through. Minerva finally decided to answer it, and turned the golden handle.
Snape stood in front of her. Forgive me, Headmaster Snape. He looked at her and noticed her obnoxiously orange slippers, but decided it was best not to say anything about them.
"Professor McGonagall, I have some new papers for you to work on, as it is your day off. I thought you would be bored." Snape spoke without hesitation, although Minerva thought it looked like he was forced to. He handed her a stack of papers, and seemed to scan her again, worry flickering in his normally blank features.
"Of course. Thank you." Minerva turned around and shut the door in his face.
Author's Note:
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