Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Additionally, there is an off-screen character death caused by deliberate actions and canon-typical abuse of authority on multiple counts. This leads to an escalation of violence which results in a riot. Please exercise understanding of personal sensitivities before and during reading.

Author's Note(s): Something I've always hated about canon was how many apologists there were among the allegedly "good guys". This fic calls a few of them out. And just so no one is thrown by it, I'm going with the Desi Potters headcanon.

Updated Note: I will NOT be continuing this scenario, and I will NOT be debating anything about that decision. If you want to know what happens next, you can read the results of this summer's protests and use it to extend the allegory. Basically, nothing changes because those with the true power to affect change benefit from the status quo.

Challenge/Competition Block:
Stacked with: QL (Season 8); MC4A
Team (Position): Wigtown Wanderers (Keeper)
Round Info: Season 08 – Round 5
QL Prompt(s)s: Write about someone seeking revenge.
Individual Challenges: Cry Power; Gryffindor MC (x5); Hufflepuff MC (x2); Slytherin MC; Professor MC (x3); Magical MC (x8) (Y x3); Criminal MC; Artist MC; Rian-Russo Inversion (x3); Ethnic & Present (x3); Hold the Mayo; Lunar Era (Y); Old Shoes; Gwen's HP Checklist [Snape Called Out]; Short Jog (Y); Bucket Listing (Y); Two Cakes (Y); Eating Cake (Y); Green Ribbon (Y); Greatest Gift
Other MC4A Challenges (Prompt): Sp Bingo [2D](Fire); Tr Bingo [2C](Blatant Lies); AU [3B](Turned Left); SuB [4C](Fire); Hunt [Sp Writing Diversity](Hindu Character); Chim [Joyce] (Secret Genius)
Representation: Political Organizers; Friends & House as Family; Smart & Desi Harry Potter; BAMF Parvati Patil; Background Chaser's Delight
Primary & Secondary Bonus Challenge(s): Larger than Life; Unicorn; Clio's Conclusion; Three's Company; Second Verse (Ladylike; Not a Lamp; Persistence Still; White Dress; Found Family; Nontraditional; Zucchini Bread; Middle Name; Spinning Plates; Unwanted Advice); Chorus (Pear-Shaped; Wabi Sabi; Machismo; Peddling Pots; Mouth of Babes; Tomorrow's Shade); Demo 1 (Casper's House; Where Angels Fear; Other the Hills); Demo 2 (Surprise!)
Tertiary & Generic Bonus Challenges: SN (Rail; Negate); LiCK (Amaranth; Narcissus; Yarrow); FR (Liberation); War (Monomania; Orator; Obstruction; Sanctuary; Ennui)
Word Count: 2727 (Story Only); 2742 (Story & Epigraph)

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No More
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"A riot is the language of the unheard."
– Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
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Snape had been threatening students for years. Everyone knew it, just like they knew just how much the professor hated any House that wasn't Slytherin. He threatened students with physical harm and took points for things like breathing or taking notes.

No one bothered trying to file complaints anymore. Nothing was ever done. Snape was just another thing that had to be endured, at least until the end of fifth year when they could drop the subject. Even students wanting careers requiring either OWLs or NEWTs in Potions didn't take the NEWT level class. Snape's strict policy of only accepting students who managed an Outstanding on their OWL (not that many students ever did) was only partially to blame for that.

It was mostly that Snape was just that unpleasant.

Combined with how Snape's version of teaching was to just tell them to brew while occasionally assigning essays, self-study was more efficient in any case. Not having to deal with Snape's mercurial moods was just a bonus. More than one student had been traumatized by his tendency to verbally lash out over the years. Neville Longbottom was far from the only student to have a boggart resembling Snape.

To lend credence to the commonplace threats, it was a well-known fact that Snape had been one of You-Know-Who's most trusted Death Eaters. He had never actually been tried or convicted of anything, but that was only because Dumbledore had interceded with the Wizengamot just like he always did whenever someone had filed complaints.

No matter how much evidence there was, Snape remained untouchable. No matter how many students ended up in the hospital wing because of the way Snape ran his classroom and the few detentions he personally oversaw, nothing ever changed. No matter how much the Muggle-borns and half-bloods complained about how skewed towards purebloods the NEWT level classes were, no one listened.

When Umbridge moved from being merely the Defense professor to being the Hogwarts High Inquisitor as well, there was a brief spark of hope. If she was evaluating all of the professors, she would see how lackluster the Potions curriculum and how dangerous Snape's methodology was. She had already taken Trelawney to task, after all.

That spark died just as quickly as it had been born.

Umbridge treated Snape like an old friend.

Then Snape moved beyond just threats and negligence.

Hogwarts practically buzzed as the news of the event spread. Snape had a first year Hufflepuff drink a sample of her own potion. Like the similar threat he had made to Neville in third year, Snape had announced that Rose Zeller had missed critical steps halfway through the class but refused to allow the girl to restart from scratch. Unlike the incident with Neville, little Rose didn't have a classmate with the knowledge and skills necessary to correct the unspecified issue. Snape still made her drink the potion despite it being visibly incorrectly brewed.

And when she began to react badly to the potion, Snape refused to send for Madam Pomfrey. He didn't bother to administer any form of first aid either. When the other Hufflepuffs had tried to intervene, he had stopped them and threatened to assign them detention with Umbridge. The scared first-years had been forced to watch until the girl had stilled completely before Snape had allowed any of them to leave.

A student died under Snape's direction, because of him.

With pounding hearts, the students filed in for dinner that night. No one dared speak above a whisper. Hufflepuff was especially subdued. Rose Zeller was the second member of their House to die in less than six months. At least Cedric Diggory had been an adult, for whatever marginal comfort that was worth. Rose had been a firstie. The many empty seats at the high tables had many students glancing between the two entrances to the Great Hall.

"Do you think that Snape will finally be sacked?" Dean asked in a low voice.

He watched as Lavender and Parvati exchanged a complicated look with Seamus. Even Harry (who had chosen to sit between Parvati and Neville instead of letting Hermione and Ron act as bookends like normal) looked uneasy at the question. The tint of his tan face had a paleness to it that couldn't be blamed on how little he was sleeping these days.

Hermione made a frustrated noise as she pulled a book from her bag. Her brown eyes were hard as she swept her gaze over the cluster of Gryffindor fifth-years. A deepening flush covered her pale cheeks, making her freckles stand out worse than Seamus and Ron's ever had.

"It's still Professor Snape for now," she said huffily. Dean knew from Lavender's tight grimace that Seamus must be gripping her leg beneath the table. That might have been enough to keep the girl from snapping at Hermione, but it did nothing to quell Parvati.

"I'd rather feed his heart to a rabid racoon than give him even an ounce of respect," Parvati snapped. Hermione gave Parvati the same glare that typically made Ron and Harry fall in line with any of her ideas. Even without it being aimed at him this time, Harry was already shrinking next to Parvati. "Don't you dare give me that look, Granger. That git has terrorized this school for at least as long as we've been alive, and now he's returned to his murdering ways—"

"Professor Dumbledore trusts him!"

"And look what happened! A child died because of him!"

"I'm sure it was just an accident!"

"Would that matter?" Harry asked. His voice was so small that Dean could barely hear it. Hermione looked surprised at the question. Harry sat up straighter and lifted his chin. The shift was subtle but powerful nonetheless. It was always a little inspiring to see Harry go from the runt of their dorm to the legendary Boy-Who-Lived, even more so given how rarely it tended to actually happen. "Would it being an accident bring Zeller back to life?"

"Harry," Hermione scolded with a frown, "he saved your life!"

"When?" Harry asked, his tone sharply acidic. "Did he save me when he decided petty revenge was more important than making sure that Sirius received a trial? Maybe it was while he was threatening to have me expelled for stealing potions ingredients without evidence. Oh, I know! It was when he had his pet student summon a deadly snake in a room full of students with no known expectation of being able to control it."

"He was countering the curse on your broom in first year," Hermione argued. Her jaw twitched as she set her chin stubbornly. "And that other stuff was just misunderstandings!"

"Hermione," Harry said, measuring each syllable carefully, "stop defending him."

Before Hermione could continue the debate (what was there even to debate?), the missing teachers filed into the room through the main doors. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout all looked as if they had been forced to eat tripe with gravy. Both Dumbledore and Snape looked solemn. Umbridge had a small but mean smile on her face. As whispers began to ripple among the students, the Hufflepuff table collectively gained grimly determined expressions, as if they had been expecting this outcome even as they had hoped against it.

Dean could tell that Parvati was practically vibrating with rage. Harry's face had gone scarily blank as he watched the progression. Seamus wasn't even trying to be sneaky as he started moving the knives out of reach of Lavender and Parvati. Dean caught a flurry of motion as farther down the table, Lee did the same for the Weasley twins and the Gryffindor Chasers.

Like that mattered for those five. The twins were never without some of their wheezes and well, the Gryffindor Chasers were above such mundane things as the laws of reality. If any of them wanted to start something, taking the knives out of easy reach wouldn't deter them.

It would barely work with Parvati.

Instead of taking his seat as the other professors were doing, Dumbledore stayed standing once he reached the throne-like chair that marked his spot. He lifted both of his hands to gesture for the room to quiet. The near-silent whispers trailed off quickly. It was almost quiet enough for Dean to think that everyone was holding their breath as they waited to hear how Snape would be punished.

"I know that you have heard of Miss Zeller's tragic accident," Dumbledore started.

Dean felt something cold and heavy settle in his gut at the words. He would have expected it from his local parliamentarians—knew to expect it even before he had ever heard of Hogwarts and magic. But somehow, despite everything he had learned since joining the wizarding world, Dean had still hoped for something different.

Dumbledore was supposed to be better than this.

"Rest assured," Dumbledore was saying as Dean returned his focus to his speech, "we are doing all that we can to assure that nothing like this happens again in the future. Professor Snape has been duly reprimanded for his inattention—"

"INATTENTION?" Parvati interrupted with a screech befitting a banshee.

Despite the visible rage on her dark face, she was gentle when she moved Harry away from her to climb onto the Gryffindor table. Seamus looked resigned when Lavender shook off his hand to stand. At least Lavender chose to stand on the ground instead of drawing attention to herself like Parvati. Other Gryffindors were getting to their feet as well.

"I understand that you're upset, Miss Patil," Dumbledore said with deep disappointment in his voice, "but that is no reason to disrupt everyone's evening like this. Now, all of you need to sit down or there will be consequences."

"I'll sit down when you stop protecting that monster!"

"These are trying times," Dumbledore replied, "and turning on each other will achieve nothing. All you need to know is that Professor Snape has my full support and Hogwarts remains a bastion of safety for any in need."

A loud thud resounded through the Great Hall, drawing everyone's attention to the Gryffindor table. Their eyes first settled on Parvati who still stood with defiance radiating through her stance. Then Harry Potter stood, his hands remaining planted on the table where he had slammed them down to create the noise. Like a beacon, the white bandage wrapped around his hand stood out against the dark sienna of his skin.

"The truth is generally preferable to lies," Harry announced. His voice was so sibilantly soft that Dean knew he must have been close to slipping into Parseltongue as Harry sometimes did without realizing it. Harry focused his emerald gaze on the headmaster just like a snake focusing on a mouse before striking. "You stood exactly where you are now and said those very words. You told us that pretending that Cedric died through some tragic accident would be an insult to his memory. Now you want us all to quietly accept that another dead student isn't something to be upset about and to support her murderer."

"Professor Snape isn't a murderer, my dear boy." Dumbledore frowned like the idea was more upsetting than the dead first-year. "What happened was—"

"A murder," Harry interrupted as he started walking (stalking wasn't the right word) up the length of the table. He continued speaking the whole way. Parvati used his empty spot to step from the tabletop to the floor in order to follow, snagging something from her school satchel from beneath the table as she went. "That's generally what people call deliberately and knowingly causing harm that ends with death. And that's what he did when he made a student test a potion that he knew hadn't been brewed correctly and then refused to let anyone help her."

Harry stopped in the center of the space between the House tables and the high tables, at the exact midpoint between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. Dean wouldn't have been surprised to discover that standing in the spot where incoming students sat to be Sorted was just as deliberate as everything else that had created this situation. Since Harry had shed his school robe immediately after their final class like all of their year normally did, he stood before the professors in his oversized gray shirt and worn jeans. Beside him, Parvati was like a flame in her saffron kameez with bright pink dahlias and yellow salwar. The white butterfly clips decorating the thick braid hanging down her back shone like stars in the magically-copied sunset from above.

Dean could admit feeling a little awed by the image the two made. Harry had that same stillness about him that he got whenever tensions ran high. Parvati was a myriad of shifting weight and twitching muscles. Dean's heart rate picked up as he watched the pair. They stood together like Shiva and Shakti ready to remake the world, even if they had to burn it to the ground first.

"Hem, hem," Umbridge interjected from her spot at the high table. Her smile was just as patronizing as her voice. "Surely you are not suggesting that Hogwarts is unsafe for using teaching methods rooted in a long and honorable tradition!"

Dean couldn't see Harry's face as he moved his hands. He could only guess what expression the Boy-Who-Lived had as he unwound the bandage around his right hand. It fluttered to the ground like a wounded bird.

"I'm sorry, Professor Umbridge," Harry replied glacially firm and raised the back of his hand towards the woman, "but I must not tell lies."

Umbridge flushed an unpleasant shade of red that clashed horribly with the candy floss pink of her robes. Snape's face would have matched if he didn't have such a sallow complexion to begin with, which gave his flush an orange cast. Dumbledore's frown deepened as he sighed wearily.

"That was uncalled for, Harry," the headmaster scolded. Parvati's hand shifted around whatever it was that she held. The white butterflies fluttered with the restless motion of her headshake.

"You cannot be serious," she countered. "Students are terrorized here. Students are tortured. Students are killed! But it's speaking of it that is uncalled for? You are as barmy as everyone claims!"

"Why, you disrespectful brat," Snape snarled, only to be cut off by Parvati's hand slicing through the air sharply.

"Death Eaters don't get to talk about disrespect," she declared. "In fact, it's probably better if you don't speak at all. You've said quite enough over the years." Parvati turned her back on the high table. Her dark eyes searched the Hufflepuff table before alighting on Susan Bones. "Call your aunt, Sue. It's clear that the professors can't be trusted to do the right thing this time either."

Snape cast the spell silently. It sped towards Parvati's exposed back in an acid green blur. Just as impossibly fast, Harry stepped between Parvati and the unidentified curse. His wand twisted deftly through an equally silent casting. The green flared painfully bright as it connected with the protective barrier of a Shield Charm, even if no shield should have protected against what that curse had likely been.

The entirety of Great Hall seemed to be holding their breath as Parvati slowly turned back around to face the professors.

"No more," Parvati announced as she pulled her own wand. Around him, Dean could tell that others were drawing their wands as well. The professors started shifting nervously as if realizing for the first time that they were vastly outnumbered by students. "We will tolerate no more of your childish tantrums. We will tolerate no more of your hateful vitriol. We will tolerate no more of you."

"No more," Harry repeated. Then Hufflepuff rose together as one unit. They still looked exhausted and grief-stricken, but it was that grief which united them from tiniest first-year to tallest seventh-year. When they echoed the phrase, their voices rang out like a thunderous war cry.

"NO MORE!"

Things descended into chaos as spells began to fly. Dean was only vaguely aware of prefects herding the younger students out of the room. House elves shimmered into the room and grabbed younger students before shimmering away again. Then even that awareness was lost in the general turmoil of the riot.

Only one thought remained, lingering like the refrain of a favorite song.

No more.

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An Ending
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