Explosive Revelations: Snape Dismissed from Hogwarts Over Unjust Legilimency!
In an unforeseen turn of events, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is at the centre of a controversy that ripples across the wizarding community. Severus Snape, the once-respected Potions Master, has been terminated following serious accusations of employing legilimency without just cause on Rigel Black, heir to the Black lineage and son of Sirius Black.
Sources from Hogwarts have conveyed that Snape, who shared a turbulent past with Sirius Black since their youth, might've let those old wounds dictate his present actions. Rigel Black, now in his second year and showing promise, allegedly bore the brunt of Snape's lingering resentment towards his father.
Confidential sources have reported Snape's invasive use of legilimency on Rigel Black was not only unnecessary but also intense, which may have inflicted emotional trauma on the young wizard. Such an act, particularly without any compelling reason, has evoked widespread shock and condemnation.
Tensions rose when it was learnt that Snape, still harbouring bitterness towards Sirius, vocalised intentions to injure young Rigel. While many argue this could've been a mere momentary lapse of judgment, the implications are undeniably grave.
Albus Dumbledore, the esteemed headmaster, renowned for his principles of forgiveness and rehabilitation, faced a challenging decision. Prioritising student welfare, after meticulous scrutiny and discussions with the Board of Governors, it was decreed that Snape's tenure at Hogwarts would end.
This entire episode, deeply embedded in the personal histories of the Blacks and Snape, poignantly reminds us of the lasting impact of past grudges. Given these revelations, Hogwarts finds itself at a significant juncture, on the hunt for a new Potions Master and striving to mend the fractures of yesteryears.
A Stunning Clash: The End of Snape at Dumbledore's Behest?
The wizarding world was left aghast with recent events from Hogwarts. Eyewitnesses detailed an evening disrupted by a fierce argument resonating throughout the castle. "It sounded as though a massive fireworks display had erupted indoors," Argus Filch, the school's caretaker, exclaimed.
While details are yet to be fully unveiled, there's widespread speculation regarding Snape's potential disagreement with Dumbledore, possibly linked to Snape's former loyalties during the First Wizarding War. The aftermath was nothing short of harrowing. The grand doors of the Great Hall lay open, revealing remnants of a duel for the ages. Dumbledore, though untouched, appeared deeply affected, while Snape was found unresponsive, his signature sneer replaced by an unsettling calm.
Despite the school staff's best efforts, Snape couldn't be revived. A visibly shaken Madam Pomfrey was heard saying, "He's gone, truly gone." The actual reasons behind this altercation remain obscured. Dumbledore, ever the advocate for harmony, has yet to comment. An emergency assembly of the Board of Governors has been summoned to address this calamity.
As dusk draped over Hogwarts, it was evident that its revered corridors would carry the weight of this event for years to come. The tranquillity that now reigns is punctuated only by the pages of this newspaper, recounting the grim tale to all.
For an in-depth analysis, see page 4.
Written by: Rita Skeeter.
In the opulent setting of Malfoy Manor, Lucius Malfoy clutched the latest issue of the Daily Prophet, his typically haughty demeanour replaced by a mixture of disbelief and concern. The grand fireplace crackled, casting shadows that danced across his sharp features. His piercing grey eyes, usually exuding confidence and cunning, now displayed a flicker of worry. Snape's demise struck a chord with Lucius, not only due to the loss of a valuable ally but also because it exposed a potential vulnerability within the ranks of the Dark Lord's followers.
In the dimly lit corridors of Grimmauld Place, a sense of vindication hung heavy in the air. Walburga Black radiated smug satisfaction. Her malicious gaze gleamed with triumph as she commented, "The traitor got what he deserved." Her cackling voice echoed through the aged surroundings. Rigel, positioned beside her reads along with her. The memory of Snape's intrusive legilimency lingered, leaving an indelible mark on his psyche. For Rigel, this news brought a taste of bittersweet revenge, a settling of scores long overdue.
In a quiet corner of the room, Arcturus Black's calculating mind worked overtime. Seated in a deep shadow, he stroked his chin thoughtfully. His keen understanding of Snape's talents, particularly his prowess in battle and gift for subterfuge, led him to contemplate, "A unique ability gone to waste." A question loomed in his mind: Was Snape's sudden death truly an impulsive reaction, or did it conceal a more calculated intention? Arcturus pondered the complexities of the situation, sensing hidden currents beneath the surface of events.
The room was dimly lit, with only a few flickering candles casting soft, wavering light over the stone walls. Shadows danced across the ancient tapestries that lined the walls, their embroidered serpents and silver crests seeming to slither in the low light. In the centre of the room, upon a grand four-poster bed draped with deep green velvet, lay the motionless form of Regulus Black.
His pale face was peaceful, almost unnervingly so, as if he were simply sleeping. His dark hair, still slightly tousled, spread across the pillow like ink on parchment. Time had not touched him; the passing years left no marks on his youthful features. It was as though he had been frozen in that moment when he had first collapsed, the moment before he had been swallowed by the darkness of the lake's cursed waters. But here he was, hidden away from the world, kept alive by enchantments far more powerful than most could fathom.
Beside the bed stood Kreacher, the old house-elf, his large eyes brimming with unspoken sorrow. He had watched over his master for years, never leaving his side, carrying out his last order even after all these years: to keep him safe. It had taken every ounce of Kreacher's magic and determination to pull Regulus from the depths of the lake that night. The potion had been too much, its dark power leaving Regulus on the brink of death—his body locked in this unnatural state, neither truly alive nor dead.
In this deep magical coma, Regulus remained trapped, as though the final act of his bravery had tethered him between two worlds.
"I failed you, Master," Kreacher whispered, his voice hoarse with age and grief. "I did what you asked, but you... you are still lost."
The room held a quiet tension, a feeling that something lingered just beyond reach. Every so often, there was a faint shimmer in the air around Regulus, a glimmer of the dark magic that still bound him. The curse from the Horcrux, the one he had dared to steal from Voldemort's hiding place, had left a deep scar upon his soul. Kreacher had managed to pull him from the water, but the magic was too strong to break fully.
In the world outside, the name of Regulus Black had become little more than a footnote, a memory buried beneath the shadow of his infamous brother. But here, in this quiet, hidden room, his story had not yet ended.
The only sound that filled the room now was the slow, rhythmic breath of Regulus, the steady rise and fall of his chest. Every breath was a reminder that, though his mind was far away, his body fought to remain in this world. Somewhere, deep within the layers of the coma, perhaps a part of him was aware—aware of Kreacher's endless vigil, aware of the passing time, aware that one day, there might be a way back.
As the candles flickered and Kreacher resumed his silent watch, there was the smallest stir—a twitch of Regulus' hand, so faint it could have been missed. Kreacher froze, his large eyes widening as he stared at his master's hand, hope blooming cautiously in his chest. But no further movement came. The moment passed, and silence returned.
Yet Kreacher couldn't help but wonder: had Regulus, even for a brief second, reached out from the darkness? The old elf's heart quickened with the thought. Perhaps, after all these years, the magic was beginning to fade, and one day soon, Regulus might wake.