AN: Chapter last updated on 11/Feb/2025
Warning: This chapter includes corporal punishment (caning) of a child.
The New Princess
Hogwarts Year 1 - Arc 1 - Part 7 - Chapter 19
No pain... No gain? Snape's to Blame!
Previously :
Snape's posture shifted subtly, a barely perceptible tension in his shoulders. The classroom seemed to hold its breath as Snape's gaze returned to linger on Aryanna.' There it's happening again,' she thought. "Ah yes, Aryanna Potter, our resident Celebrity, let's see if you live up to your fame," Snape said, rolling her name around on his tongue as if savoring every letter of her name.
"Sir?" she asked, again witnessing Snape's eyes briefly glaze over as she spoke to him. 'Once again it's as if he's becoming a different person. But how... and why?' Aryanna wondered, preparing for what was to come.
"Tell me Potter, Which plant is a key ingredient in the Sleeping Draught? You have ten seconds to answer," came Snape's demanding voice.
Aryanna smiled. It was one of the questions from Grace's helpful notes. "Valerian root, Sir!" She answered, expecting to get some points for the correct answer. However, instead of a reward, all she got was an annoyed frown filled with undisguised anger...and was that a tad of frustration? 'That couldn't be right...could it? she wondered. Why would he be angry about a correct answer? Something wasn't right here... but what? She had to investigate this.
And now the continuation:
As Aryanna contemplated Snape's mysterious behavior, she felt a sudden intrusion into her mind. It was faint, barely noticeable but it was there. Caught off guard she felt the intrusion being forcefully pushed away by her symbiont, the Legendary Crystal inside her. The attack had been fleeting at best but left an unsettling residue in its wake.
'Ligilimency?' she wondered, shocked. 'No... he wouldn't dare... would he? Isn't that illegal?'
Aryanna's eyes narrowed. 'So, that's how he knew what page Zacharias had been reading. He read his mind.'
At that moment she mentally thanked Setsuna for all the training she had undergone over the past few years. Recognizing mental attacks had been part of her many preparations as Sailor Moon before she arrived at Hogwarts. She had identified the breach of privacy and was infuriated by it. Ligilimency was not only an invasion of privacy but using it without proper cause on a pureblood or any Lord, Lady, Heir, or Heiress was illegal - though unfortunately not on a 'common' muggle-born or half-blood due to political corruption. Using it on a 'protected' individual, like herself, could result in a hefty fine or even a long stint in the wizarding prison of Azkaban—provided it could be proven. It was a near-life sentence for anybody, not a Lord or Lady. For a teacher to use it on a student without proper cause was a despicable act.
Unfortunately, the challenge lay in proving it. Aryanna, despite being an heiress of two prominent families, knew very well that it would at best be an uphill battle. While her classmates would undoubtedly support her, they weren't experts in Legilimency, and convincing the wizarding world - especially a corrupt Wizzengamot - against a Hogwarts professor while being a student was a daunting task. It just wasn't worth the risk, or indeed the effort.
Thankfully, however, due to the Silver Crystal within her and her past training, it wasn't necessary. Aryanna was now immune to all forms of mind-reading attacks and most types of mind control. She held back a smirk; now was not the time for rash actions. It was wiser to wait until after class and discuss it with someone else in authority, thereby avoiding any unnecessary confrontation with the stern professor. If he was willing to use ligilimency on a student unprovoked, who knew what he'd do if provoked?
On a more positive note, her friends, especially those who were or would become future Guardians, would share similar mind protection she currently enjoyed thanks to the sailor suit abilities—provided of course their true identities remained secret. Once exposed, the Sailor Suits' defenses would fall and then they would have no choice but to learn it the hard way.
As Aryanna wrestled with these thoughts, Snape posed another question.
"Hmm... it seems that question was too easy for a celebrity like yourself. I can see you want a more difficult challenge to properly test your worth. Fine, I wouldn't want to disappoint. Let's try this one then. What potion could be brewed using the following ingredients: Fluxweed, Knotgrass, crushed Lacewing Flies, Leeches, powdered Bicorn horn, and Shredded Boomslang Skin?
Aryanna's eyebrows shot up. 'Seriously? How did he get that impression?' she wondered. 'Also, that's an advanced first-year potions question, a second-year exam preparation.' She knew this because, fortunately, it was also on Grace's cheat sheet. 'That's two presents I owe her now.'
She confidently answered, "The potion is Polyjuice Potion, Sir!" daring him to ask another question. Snape's unfair treatment amplified Aryanna's frustration. Snape seemed to bear an inexplicable grudge against her for reasons she couldn't comprehend.
Once again, she noticed a brief flash of anger on Snape's face, quickly followed by another question.
Now, with a near growl of anger, Snape asked, "A skilled potion-maker is brewing the Draught of Living Death and realizes they mistakenly added three drops of boomslang skin instead of the required two. How can they salvage the potion without starting over, considering they can't remove any ingredients once added?"
'What? Really? Another question?... Wasn't two enough? That's so unfair. And how in the name of the blasted Void am I supposed to know that? There is no way that's in the first few chapters of the first-year potions book. He's trying to trick me! He wants me to fail!' Aryanna's mind raced with these thoughts, which seemed to echo through her classmates as they too looked clueless. Even Hermione, who usually had an answer to everything, had her hand down. Aryanna realized with a pang of anger and helplessness that her luck had finally run out. This question had not been covered by Grace's questions, meaning she had no idea of the answer and no realistic way of knowing it.
Unable to answer the question, Aryanna sighed and bitterly admitted defeat, "Sorry, Sir, I don't know the answer to that," She said, bracing herself for the loss of points her lack of an answer would no doubt earn her. Guessing at this point was not worth it and most likely even downright foolish. It would only infuriate him further, and make him deduct even more points, as unfair as it would be.
The moment her words left her mouth, Snape seemed to grin in victory, and satisfaction spread over his face. "Pitiful. Too lazy to open a book, are you? I expected better from the great and famous Potter. Not so great after all, are you? It seems fame isn't everything! For your information, the answer to this 'easy' and rather basic question is: the potion-maker can counteract the excess boomslang skin by adding a single drop of dragon blood or another counter agent. Dragon's Blood for those of you who didn't bother to open your textbooks before the start of class is a very powerful universal neutralizer and has the unique property of neutralizing the negative effects of boomslang skin without compromising the overall potency of the Draught of Living Death. I expected better from you, especially as you don't have the excuse of a Muggleborn of having lived as a muggle all this time. Any competent potion maker with half a brain should know this as it's one of the twelve uses of dragon blood, but I guess, like I said, fame isn't everything."
Insult after insult rained upon her, and Aryanna could do nothing but suck it up and simply take the blame. What else could she do? Unknown to herself and the class, while what Snape said was indeed true, to a certain point of view, students normally didn't learn about this until their third year. This was because students were supposed to learn how ingredients interacted with each other and learn how to create potions without it first, before learning how to neutralize them if mistakes happened. The unfairness here was staggering.
With a triumphant smirk, Snape strolled towards the punishment book, prompting gasps and shock from the class. Aryanna herself was taken aback. 'No way... I had two questions right... he wouldn't... would he?' The punishment book was reserved for major penalties. It seemed he could...and was about to do it. She was about to be punished for not knowing one out of three questions.
Aryanna watched, stunned, as Snape searched for her name. Frowning, hate simmered within her and she clenched her fists, as she caught his muttered "What a pity," audible only to her advanced Guardian hearing. Susan, in the next seat, gasped in shock, confirming that she, too, had heard it. Even Hermione had heard it judging by the sudden widening of her eyes. Soon, Snape faced Aryanna. Bracing herself, she awaited his judgment.
"Since the rod seems to be too good for the likes of you... twenty points from Hufflepuff, and be grateful it's not more. I have no idea how you knew the answer to the second question, but I can smell a cheat, and I will never tolerate a liar or a cheat."
A surge of hatred nearly overwhelmed Aryanna, rendering her speechless. She bit her tongue forcefully, opting for a simple nod. What else could she do? Snape was the Potions master, and she... she was just a student. This was his domain, where he might as well have been a god.
Despite the blatant unfairness, Snape hadn't technically violated any rules. Her loss of points, harsh and unfair as it was, adhered to Hogwarts regulations. As such, she had no choice but to accept it. Arguing now would not only be futile but also potentially disastrous. Making a scene would lead to a more significant loss of points or worse.
Her classmates, however, did not share her restraint. Hearing her unfair sentencing, a few of her classmates cried out in anger and frustration. "What the hell? She got two questions right! Why wasn't she rewarded for those? That's so unfair!" were just a few of the exclamations of disapproval for Snape's perceived unfair handling of the situation.
In response to the outcry, Snape whirled around, fury etched across his face. "SILENCE! I will not be questioned in my class. Twenty points each from both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and the next person who speaks out of turn will get a full six of my very best. IS THAT CLEAR!"
The class fell silent instantly, but it did little to quell the angry looks directed toward the Potions Master. To Aryanna's relief, however, it had effectively redirected Snape's wrath away from her once more.
Seemingly disinterested in her now, Snape refocused on the potions lesson.
"Many of you may believe my actions here today to be unfair and harsh, but Potions is a dangerous and at times unpredictable subject. As such, I demand your full concentration, cooperation... and utmost obedience at all times. I will never accept anything but the very best from my students, and cheats will be rooted out and punished severely. The smallest mistake can cause a potion to explode, which may result in injury or worse. Cheats and lazy layabouts are a liability who have shown they do not know the material and, as such, are not ready to brew potions. Anybody who disagrees with the way I teach can leave the room. But if you do, don't bother coming back."
Aryanna frowned, feeling conflicted. Could he perhaps be right? His explanation sounded logical when put that way, but it didn't mean she had to like it, and it sure didn't make her dislike him any less.
Snape continued to glare at a few students for a few more seconds, then he walked over to a blackboard at the top of the class. With a wave of his wand, words began to appear on the blackboard.
"By this point, each of you should have acquired at least a general knowledge of potion-making. The following is the recipe for the Wiggenweld potion. You will be making this straightforward 'beginner'-level potion today for the second part of our class," he said stressing the word beginner.
"Wiggenweld is a useful potion to make. All the necessary ingredients are available for your perusal from the potions stored at the back of the classroom. I do not expect any of you to create a perfect potion at this point, or even close—seeing as you are only first years. My expectations may be high, but I don't expect miracles. I do, however, expect you to use all the knowledge you have gained so far in your study periods, as few as they have been... if any," he said, his gaze lingering on Aryanna, "to make a decent attempt. If you have studied the material you should have no issues with making this potion. Idiocy or sloppiness will not be tolerated and will be penalized," he began, as the words on the blackboard shivered and shifted into a Wiggenweld potion recipe.
"You may collaborate with your partner and refer to your textbooks. Ask relevant questions, but maintain silence otherwise. Unnecessary chatter and irrelevant inquiries will be penalized. I am here to guide, not to coddle. A true potioneer learns to independently brew potions and rectify errors. Begin!" With that, Snape retreated to his desk to observe.
Aryanna was in shock! There was no better way to describe it. 'What? Was that it?' she asked herself perplexed. 'No lessons on potion safety? No lessons on what types of ingredients existed, how they worked, or how they reacted with each other? No lesson, period! Are we expected to brew a potion without prior training?' she wondered, incredulously. It seemed, he did!'
'And what did he mean by using knowledge from our study periods? This is our first class!' Her eyes widened in realization. 'Wait! Are we expected to prepare for practicals independently?' We haven't even had a single class yet!'
She surveyed her classmates. While most shared her confusion, a few, particularly the purebloods from older families, seemed unperturbed. They had already begun gathering ingredients. The Muggle-borns and some half-bloods, however, remained stationary, their anxious gazes darting around the room.
'Do the purebloods of the class know something I and the Muggle-borns do not?' she wondered.
After a few minutes of no forthcoming assistance, some Muggle-borns began to gather ingredients from the potion cabinets. Others observed the purebloods, who seemed to know what they were doing and attempted to mimic them.
Aryanna sighed. 'This isn't a recipe for a potion; it's a recipe for disaster,' she thought.
Looking over at Susan, she noticed Susan had already begun her potion. Despite her slow and cautious approach, double-checking and sometimes triple-checking her steps with the recipe on the board, Susan seemed to have a grasp on the task.
In contrast, Hermione was frantically reading through the recipe and her potions book after collecting her ingredients, presumably trying to decipher the instructions.
Hannah had teamed up with a Ravenclaw pureblood and was diligently following his directives.
Looking around further, Aryanna noticed other students had also formed teams, but this seemed to cause more confusion than help. She saw one pair arguing about their roles. 'If they continue like this, then...'
"Mr. Boot, Miss Roper, tomfoolery in this class will not be tolerated. Ten points each from Ravenclaw; get on with your work. Any further disruption, and I'll get out the red book," Snape warned. 'Called it!' Aryanna thought, sighing.
The two students, cowed by Snape's reprimand, fell silent and began to haphazardly cut ingredients while tentatively consulting their books.
'There is no way I'm brewing anything before I have an idea what I'm doing, even if it means a failing grade and a loss of points for today's class,' Aryanna thought to herself as she grabbed her copy of the potions book and opened it. 'I'm brave, but not stupid.'
'Thankfully I'm not partnered up at the moment, so there should be no problem if I have a look first at... ah, here it is... "Basic Potions Safety for Dummies by Constance McSimpleton. What every Potioneer should know before making their first potion." Really... Dummies and Simpleton? Does that also make us 'constant simpletons' now as well? Good grief, even the book makes fun of us. That has to be a pen name! What's next? 'How to avoid potions mistakes by Barty McBogus? Everything in potions seems designed to belittle us.'
Deciding there was no time like the present, she began to read. 'The sooner I start, the sooner I can attempt to brew this... what was it again?' She glanced at the recipe. 'Ah yes, the Wiggenweld potion. Let's have a look.'
Wiggenweld Potion Ingredients:
- Salamander blood
- Horklump juice
- Dittany leaves
Instructions:
1. Prepare the cauldron to standard potion temperature then add salamander blood and wait until the potion turns red.
2. Stir the potion clockwise until it turns orange.
3. Add more salamander blood until the potion turns yellow.
4. Stir the potion anti-clockwise until it turns green.
5. Add more salamander blood until the potion turns turquoise.
6. Heat the potion until it turns indigo and watch the heat carefully.
*IMPORTANT* Do NOT allow cauldron heat to exceed Dagworth-Granger's recommended levels for potions containing blood, as it will cause the potion to become unstable.
*WARNING* Do NOT add the Horklump juice while cauldron heat is below or above the recommended levels, as it WILL cause an explosive reaction.
7. Once ready, add Horklump juice to the cauldron and stir well - direction irrelevant.
8. Add dittany leaves to the cauldron and stir well five times clockwise.
9. Let the potion rest for a minimum of one minute but not more than five, then stir twice anticlockwise to finish the potion.
10. The potion is ready when it turns pink and emits a pleasant aroma. Bottle and label carefully.
To use the potion, drink a small amount or apply it directly to the affected area. Repeat as needed until the symptoms disappear.
'Oh! How wonderful...just when I thought it couldn't possibly get any worse. An explosion warning! Just what I need for my first-ever potions class. And this is for first years?' Suddenly, she smiled grimly. 'Well, at least we will hopefully have enough Wiggenweld at the end to take care of any injuries that may happen during the class.' Her grim smile slowly turned into a grimace as she realized what she had just thought.
'Not something to be happy about. The class must be affecting me more than I thought,' she pondered, becoming somber.
For the next few minutes, Aryanna immersed herself in the early pages of her potions textbook, exploring the myriad types of ingredients and their intricate interactions. The content proved captivating.
A sudden wince escaped her as she read about potential disasters that could happen from mixing or adding ingredients at the wrong times. From cauldron meltdowns to outright eruptions, the consequences were anything but pleasant. Aryanna found it perplexing how Professor Snape could deem it acceptable for first-years, or any students for that matter, to engage in potion brewing without prior safety instructions. It struck her as not only irresponsible but potentially dangerous. At the very least, she expected a more cautious approach from the professor, ensuring students were adequately prepared before attempting complex brews.
'Ah, here it is... Dagworth-Grangers' recommendations for potion making...' She had found what she was looking for.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. 'By the bloody void... is this true?' According to the text, specific advanced potions require precise ingredient additions and heat levels in potions at specific times. Failure to adhere to these guidelines risked transforming the potion into a lethal poison. Take, for instance, Felix Felices, the infamous and horrifically difficult-to-make liquid luck potion, a potion which insured the drinker extremely good luck for its duration—it seemed more like a potion of extreme misfortune if mishandled. Aryanna was so engrossed in her reading that she failed to notice Snape watching her from his desk, his eyes clouding over once more before he barked out in anger.
"Miss Potter!" he barked out. What do you think you are doing? We are nearly halfway through the class, and you haven't even attempted to start brewing your potion. Do you believe this class is beneath you?" His loud voice startled the entire class, prompting a few students to cease their brewing and observe with morbid interest.
Flinching slightly, Aryanna attempted to diffuse the tension as best as she could, even if she doubted its effectiveness.
"Sorry, Sir! I'm reading the potions book for information on ingredients. I don't feel prepared enough to start brewing yet and wanted to check up on some ingredients and safety first before I begin," she answered, anticipating a point deduction but hoping to appease the ill-tempered professor.
Snape scowled at her as if he didn't fully believe her, but to Aryanna's surprise, he begrudgingly accepted her explanation.
"I see... and did you not read up on this before class, as you were supposed to?" he inquired, studying her for any sign of deceit.
Deciding that opting for complete honesty in this case was the best choice, Aryanna shook her head and replied, "Sorry, sir, I did not. I was studying potions questions during the study periods and didn't think of looking at anything else."
"Indeed... so you thought that coming to class ill-prepared was a good idea?" came the next question.
Aryanna cringed at the question. Whatever she said now would likely make her look bad or anger Snape. Probably both. Choosing to face it head-on, she hoped her next response would once again at least placate him.
"Sorry, Sir, I thought I was prepared enough. I was wrong, and I can only apologize for my failure. In my defense, I can only plead ignorance and foolishness. It's my first potions class. I promise I will do better from now on," she said, attempting diplomatic humility by taking the blame and acknowledging her error. She hoped this approach would minimize her punishment.
Surprisingly, it seemed to have worked. For a moment, she thought Snape was going to shout at her, but her answer seemed to have surprised him.
"I see... very well then. It's commendable that you acknowledge your... unfortunate shortcomings. Ensure you improve because next time I will not be so lenient. Ten points from Hufflepuff for coming into class unprepared. You may continue to read if you so desire. Far be it for me to disapprove of a student's 'attempts' to learn," he said, emphasizing the word 'attempts.' "However..." Snape began to smirk, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear, "I will be deducting five points from anyone who has not made a decent attempt on their potion and fifty points from anyone who has not even started their potion by the end of the class." With that, he settled back down to continue observing the class, ignoring the gasps and cries of dismay from his students.
Aryanna sighed. 'That could have gone better.' The last part almost guaranteed her a loss of another five points. She had expected a point deduction, and it had happened, but what she had not anticipated was this additional threat. Realizing it was aimed directly at her as an obvious attempt to provoke or demoralize her, and as an extra excuse to subtract even more points from her house, or more precisely, from herself, she decided to cut her losses as best as she could and quickly get on with it, finishing the chapter she was reading as quickly as possible.
If she was lucky and time still allowed it, she would then attempt to start the potion. At least in that way, it would only be a loss of an additional five points and not fifty—not that it would make much more of a difference soon, given the speed her House was losing points. 'By the speed Snape was reducing points from Hufflepuff...' she left the rest unthought. It would only depress her more anyway.
Aryanna sighed as she glimpsed Snape watching her from his desk. She would have started the potion right away at that very moment, but she had a feeling Snape was just waiting for her to do this and use it as a further excuse to deduct even more points from her for lying about not being adequately prepared. She wouldn't put it past him. He definitely was sadistic enough for it. There was simply no pleasing the man. Trying to ignore the smirk on Snape's face as he watched her from his desk, Aryanna resumed reading. The more she had to deal with the infuriating man, the more difficult it got to keep her calm. The sooner she got out of this classroom, the better. But first, she had to figure out a way to brew this stupid potion.
Once again, Aryanna wondered why he seemed to hate her so much. As far as she knew, she had done nothing to deserve his obvious hate.
With a mere twenty-five minutes of class time remaining, Aryanna knew it was barely enough time for a satisfactory attempt at the potion, let alone for a first-year student to complete it. Yet, she finally felt secure enough to commence brewing.
Snape had moved on to glare at another student, but Aryanna was sure that if she didn't start now, he would probably find a way to inconvenience her enough to stop her from starting. 'Focus, Aryanna... focus,' she told herself, trying to push her worries aside. 'You can do this. You've faced worse... much worse.' She quickly collected her ingredients, knowing full well she would never get to use them all, but at this point, that was the least of her worries.
On a positive note: 'Goodbye, minus fifty points; hello, minus five,' she thought happily as she began to heat the water in her cauldron. It would take at least five minutes to heat up, probably more, and then she would add the salamander blood. If she was lucky, it might even turn green by the end of the class. She doubted she would be able to do anything else, though, with the remaining time she had left. She had no delusions whatsoever that Snape would ever consider it a decent attempt, but at least it would not cost her a full fifty points, just another five. That would have to be her reward for the class.
She decided to ignore him and focus on her task. 'I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me nervous,' she thought as she added the first of her Salamander Blood. 'What a waste,' she thought forlornly as she watched the precious bodily fluid fall into the cauldron.
As she worked, she couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. 'This is only the first class... How am I going to survive the rest of the year?'
Ten minutes later, with only fifteen minutes left, she waited for her Salamander blood to change color.
She briefly noticed Snape glancing in her direction and sneering at her, but other than that, he seemed content to allow her to simply get on with it. 'Probably thinking up the next way to belittle me at the end of class, the git,' she thought as she checked her cauldron and the bubbling blood inside for irregularities and noticed how it slowly began to turn red.
Recalling a rather significant detail from the potions book she had perused earlier, she swiftly checked her cauldron's heat. According to the warning, if the water wasn't maintained within a specific temperature range, it would compromise the potion. Too low, and the potion would begin to coagulate and rapidly diminish in potency; too high, and it risked emitting magical vapors that could induce unwanted side effects, potentially rendering the potion ineffective or even causing an explosion. 'This is precisely the type of information we should have been taught before brewing,' she thought with a scowl as she observed that her cauldron's heat was marginally below the optimal temperature. She promptly increased the heat.
Three minutes later, her potion had transformed into a foreboding bright bloody red. Swiftly consulting her instructions, she stirred the potion in a clockwise motion and watched as it began to alter color, rapidly turning orange.
It was at this juncture that disaster, like a lurking shadow, finally made its presence known…
Unbeknownst to Snape, who was engrossed in scrutinizing Aryanna's potion-making efforts, looking for an error, another different, far more dangerous error was about to occur at another brewing station, courtesy of a pair of unsuspecting Ravenclaws.
The unfortunate couple had just finished part six of their potion and had no idea about Granger-Dagworth's recommendations. Too intimidated and afraid of the professor to disturb him and ask for advice, as they could, indeed should have done, they foolishly decided to add the Horklump juice as soon as the potion turned indigo. Neither noticed that their potion's heat was a few degrees above the recommended level, making it unstable.
The instant the first drop of Horklump juice was added to the cauldron, the potion began to bubble uncontrollably as the new ingredient reacted with the Salamander blood. Had the potion been at the correct temperature, it would have stabilized within seconds. However, due to the elevated temperature, the potion escalated rapidly out of control.
Upon realizing their error, the two students barely had enough time to sound an alarm and evade the impending disaster as their cauldron began to froth over, subsequently erupting and splattering boiling liquid across the neighboring potion stations—and the unfortunate students in proximity.
Had Snape been vigilantly monitoring his students—as any competent potions professor should, especially given the explosion warning and the fact he was supposed to be teaching first years—he would have had ample time to cast a protective shield around the students' cauldron, thereby preventing or at least mitigating any damage the exploding cauldron might have inflicted.
However, Snape had been neglecting his supervisory duties, or at least not observing the appropriate student. He was so preoccupied with contemplating how he could further penalize the daughter of his childhood tormentor that by the time he registered the brewing disaster, it was too late.
The next thing the whole class heard was multiple shrieks and cries of pain from several students who suddenly found themselves covered with scalding hot boiling potion water.
The explosion occurred so abruptly that Aryanna, taken aback, gasped in shock and instinctively recoiled, inadvertently dropping the vial containing the remnants of her Salamander blood into her cauldron. Consequently, she botched her attempt at brewing the Wiggenweld potion.
However, her ruined potion was the least of her concerns at that moment, as her cauldron began to bubble violently. Swiftly retreating to the only safe area left in the classroom, she watched with morbid fascination as her cauldron overflowed, engulfing two other workstations. Once she ascertained she was out of danger, she checked on Susan, Hermione, and Hannah, and breathed a sigh of relief upon finding them unscathed. Only then did she turn to assess the aftermath.
For the next few moments, the room was eerily quiet, save for the moans and wails of the injured students. Snape's eyes narrowed in irritation as he surveyed the pandemonium, his attention squarely on the two hapless Ravenclaws who had instigated the catastrophe.
"You imbeciles…" he snapped, his voice seething with contempt, callously disregarding the cries of pain echoing around him as he berated the two guilty Ravenclaws who had precipitated the chaos. "Twenty points from Ravenclaw…no, make that fifty! How inept can you be? Didn't you read the instructions? I bet you added the Horklump juice before verifying your cauldron was at the correct temperature…didn't you…" he began to rail.
As Snape continued his tirade, Aryanna realized that no one was tending to the injured students. They were in dire need of assistance, and she couldn't stand idly by any longer. She decided to intervene.
"SIR!" Aryanna's voice sliced through Snape's tirade, her eyes wide with urgency. "Anthony, Sue, and Eloise—are injured. We need to get them to the infirmary."
Hearing her amidst his angry rant, Snape paused and hastily assessed the injured students. Reluctantly acknowledging the necessity, he directed the injured students to the infirmary. His immediate concern addressed, he was about to resume his rant when Aryanna, shocked and incensed by his apparent lack of empathy, decided to interrupt him once more.
"Sir, they might not know the way. It's their first day," Aryanna persisted, her concern for her fellow students outweighing her fear of Snape.
Snape, irritated at being interrupted again, sneered, "Twenty points from Hufflepuff for your incessant interruptions!"
Aryanna, however, wasn't willing to back down so easily. Determined to help, she ignored him and pressed on, "Sir, please, they need help. Can't someone escort them?"
Snape's temper flared, and he barked, "Ten more points! I told you to shut up."
Aryanna, however, no longer cared about house points. Undeterred by his attempts to silence her, she tried once more, "Sir, they might not—"
"Twenty more points from Hufflepuff! I won't say it again. Now, silence!" Snape roared, turning to face her directly.
Around them, multiple Hufflepuffs groaned and winced at every loss of points while the Ravenclaws watched on in macabre silence. Nobody, however, looked angry, at least not at Aryanna. Snape, however, was a different matter. The whole class was beginning to despise him.
Shocked at his outburst, Aryanna finally fell silent. 'It's no use; he simply won't listen,' she thought in despair. A tense silence enveloped the classroom. Students, too afraid to speak up, watched as the student and professor engaged in a silent standoff. The whole situation seemed… pointless. At this point, Hufflepuff didn't even have points left to lose, having lost them all throughout the lesson.
Amidst the silence, Aryanna sighed, realizing that at this point, the three injured students had already left the room anyway, too eager to escape their professor to care about their injuries. Her efforts had been in vain. She hoped they were all right.
The weight of the silence pressed down on the classroom, and Aryanna couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and sadness. 'Is this what Hogwarts had in store for her? A battleground of injustice and disdain?' She glanced around, meeting the eyes of her classmates, who exchanged silent nods of support. Even within the stifling silence, a subtle undercurrent of unity began to emerge among the students – a shared resilience against an unjust authority.
As Aryanna considered cutting her losses and doing as Snape asked, to shut up and return to her ruined workstation, Snape, his eyes fully glazed over in his rage, turned on her with a menacing glare. He then crossed a line by insulting her parents right in front of her.
"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You're just like your good-for-nothing father. Arrogant and brash. He never did know when to shut up either," he suddenly said.
Aryanna froze. 'No way, he did not just…oh by the void, he did!' her mind froze, and anger overtook her. At that moment, she had enough. She couldn't take it anymore. Everybody had a breaking point, and she had finally reached hers.
All around the duo, her classmates froze, holding their breath. Susan, Hermione, and Hannah looked at each other in worry. They knew from experience that whenever she got like that, bad things would happen soon after.
"Unprofessional and a bully!" Aryanna suddenly exclaimed, standing up defiantly. It was enough to knock even Snape out of his rant.
"What was that?" Snape asked, taken aback.
Susan closed her eyes in despair, recognizing the unfolding situation. When Aryanna was like that she lost all reason. Meanwhile, Hermione gasped and retreated in fear. Hannah whimpered as she observed Snape's emotions transition from anger to shock and disbelief, to absolute fury. All three shared the same thought. 'Had their friend lost her mind?'
"I said, you're nothing but an unprofessional bully and have no right to call yourself a teacher," she reiterated coldly.
The class gasped collectively. It seemed she had!
"One hundred points…" Snape began to say but was interrupted before he could finish. Normally, it would have been a devastating amount, enough to put a house out of any chance of winning the cup, enough to make even the most troublesome, rebellious student think twice. However, Aryanna was too far gone to care anymore.
"I DON'T CARE!" Aryanna roared back in a fit of frustration. "Dock as many points as you want you bastard! It merely showcases how unfair and arbitrary the system is, and how much of an incompetent bully you are. I don't doubt your skills as a potions master, but you're a dreadful teacher who should not be allowed to ruin the education of students."
Snape, taken aback by her outburst, growled, "What did you just say, you insolent girl? I ought to—"
"How dare you insult my deceased parent like this. You have crossed a line this time, 'Professor!'" Aryanna spat the word 'professor' with utmost disdain as if mocking the title. "You're supposed to be a teacher, not a tormentor. You're supposed to educate us, not belittle and bully us," she continued. Aryanna no longer cared about the potential repercussions of her outburst. It needed to be said.
Snape simply stared at her, his mouth agape in surprise. No one had ever dared speak to him like that before, not since…
Suddenly, his mind went blank, and he saw red. At that moment, all he could think about was James, Aryanna's deceased father, the insolent man who had bullied him mercilessly while he was still a student at Hogwarts himself. James, his tormentor, James, the bully, who never left him alone. James, the man he despised above all others for stealing away the woman he loved. James, the man he detested and owed a life debt to which he could never repay. James, the man he cursed nightly whenever he went to bed…James...James ...James! It was always JAMES! HE HATED JAMES!
Aryanna, fueled by frustration, hatred, and indignation, continued, oblivious to the sudden change in her professor or the danger she was now in. "You're a disgrace to Hogwarts, a disgrace to teaching! A disgrace to the profession. You have no right to call yourself a professor?"
In an instant, something in Snape snapped. He could no longer see Aryanna, his student, the girl. He could only see James, his tormentor, the boy. Overcome by rage, he lunged forward, momentarily seeing nothing but James in the place where Aryanna now stood, seized her by her uniform, and began to forcefully drag her to the front of the classroom.
Aryanna was caught completely off guard.
She was so taken aback and shocked by what was happening that she didn't think to react until she suddenly found herself forcefully bent over the desk. It was only then that she realized, to her horror, what was happening.
Panic surged as the realization of the situation finally hit her.
Susan, Hermione, and Hannah could only look on in horror, the air in the room thick with tension, as their friend, and in Susan's case, leader was suddenly unceremoniously dragged across the room and forcibly positioned face-first over a table.
Panicking and desperate to escape her current predicament, Aryanna struggled against the grip, attempting to resist by delivering a desperate kick toward Snape's crotch. Her foot connected and Snape's howl of pain as her foot hit his family jewels was satisfying, but unfortunately, her attempt at freedom ultimately proved futile. Snape retaliated swiftly, rendering her immobile from the neck down with a flick of his wand.
Fear gripped Aryanna as Snape approached a storage cupboard, unveiling a chilling item—a rattan cane. Its ominous presence stirred memories of her painful past.
Suddenly, Aryanna had a flashback to the last time she found herself in a similar situation. It was back in her old primary school, just after she had stood up against a trio of bullies who were tormenting Hermione. That was the day she first met her second best friend, the day she made a friend for life in the intelligent bookworm. She had never regretted the pain of the 'six of the best' she had received for her part in the school brawl her actions had caused. It had been well worth it at the time.
Back then, she had vowed never to be in such a vulnerable position again. The irony wasn't lost on her as she desperately wished to escape the impending ordeal.
'If only I could get out of this mess,' she thought miserably as she lay helplessly on the table.
Her gaze shifted to the concerned faces of her friends, their silent solidarity tearing at her heart. Susan was looking at her with a sympathetic expression on her face, Hannah had tears in her eyes and poor Hermione couldn't even bear looking, bless her kind heart.
Aryanna remembered clearly that she was supposed to be protected against corporal punishment. Her CP form had explicitly stated that she was not supposed to receive it. Yet, in his rage, Snape had either forgotten that important part or simply didn't care. It seemed she was going to get it, no matter what her permission slip said.
'But that's crazy. If Snape canes me, he's going to be in trouble. Big trouble even. Perhaps even career-ending trouble. If she remembered correctly then...
'Wait a second!'
Suddenly Aryanna's eyes widened as a sudden daring plan crossed her mind. 'This is probably the most stupid idea I will ever have but...what if I were to allow it?'
'Well, not allow it, but... accept it. Take one for a greater cause so to speak.'
Aryanna contemplated the idea of actually enduring one stroke of the cane, as crazy as that was, to expose Snape's actions legally. An internal struggle played out in her mind, rationalizing the potential advantage of experiencing temporary pain against the prospect of freedom from further torment.
She hesitated, acknowledging the craziness of her decision, yet what if she endured the sacrifice for the greater good?
'I must be crazy to even consider this, but...' she paused. 'Snape knows I am on the protected list. He checked it earlier himself'
'If he canes me then sure... I will be in pain. A lot of it. But I would then also have legal cause to sue him. Maybe even get him fired. There are more than enough witnesses to back me up. Eager witnesses who would love to get rid of Snape. All I would have to do is allow him to give me one stroke, just one. Surely one stroke, no matter how painful, would be worth getting rid of Snape... Right?'
'Yes, it would mean getting the cane. Yes, it would hurt...probably a lot. It would suck, no doubt about it. But...it would also be worth it if I no longer have to see his face afterward ever again.'
'Besides, it's not like I'm a stranger to pain...or the cane. I get hurt all the time whenever I fight Youma and I got it in the past in school...and from Uncle Vernon. Also, the pain would only be temporary. I could always have my Crystal heal me like it did in the past. Although on second thought, I might have to wait and keep the welt, if only for a little while to avoid any questions. The only real difference I can see here is that this time, I would be taking it willingly. Damn, that does not sound right at all. Like I said, I must be crazy to even consider it...and yet...'
It was at that moment she fully made up her mind and a grim smile appeared on her face.
'Fine... so be it. Time to take one for the team.'
With that, Aryanna ceased her futile resistance, and surrendered herself to whatever Snape had in store."
Susan Bones, secretly Sailor Venus, was in shock. She couldn't believe what was unfolding before her eyes. She didn't want to believe it, and yet... there was no denying that it was indeed happening—her friend was about to face the cane.
Even before receiving her Hogwarts acceptance letter, Susan had always known that there was a substantial chance she would one day face corporal punishment herself. It was almost unavoidable. Everyone made mistakes at some point, no matter how good a person they were. However, she never expected it to happen to Aryanna of all people. Aryanna's current family vehemently opposed any form of corporal punishment, bordering on fanaticism.
Susan's own family on the other hand embraced the old traditions of the magical world, and it was almost a given that her Aunt Amelia, her sole surviving guardian, would opt to sign her form, allowing such punishments. It was expected in the pureblood-controlled magical society, and most pureblood families followed suit. Those who didn't sometimes faced scorn from other traditionalist families for 'abandoning the old ways.' Families like the Weasleys. It was just one of the reasons why they found it so hard to find recognition in 'proper' pureblood circles.
Amelia as the Chief Auror and Head of the DMLE at the Ministry, couldn't afford to be excluded from certain social groups. It was her responsibility to support and uphold the old rules and traditions, not dismantle them. Susan understood her aunt's decision and didn't hold a grudge, though she hoped it wouldn't be necessary, or at least not often.
To witness it happening to Aryanna though, Sailor Moon of all people... Susan could never have believed it possible. Yet, here she was, about to face punishment from the most disliked professor at Hogwarts.
She didn't know what to do. Was there anything she could do?
Silently, Susan observed as Snape bent Aryanna over the table, carefully looking for any sign from Aryanna that she needed help, or rather, wanted help. Susan would confront Snape, stop him, and risk her own well-being for her friend if asked. Friends, especially best friends, sometimes did stupid extraordinary things like that. All she needed was a sign, any sign.
For a moment, Susan thought she might have to act on her own, but then something unexpected happened, and her eyes widened.
'No way!'
There was simply no way...
Aryanna was staring right at her, giving her a command she never expected from her friend.
Using facial expressions that only the closest of friends could understand, Susan silently asked Aryanna if she was certain.
It took a few seconds, but then... she got it. It was not what she had anticipated. She was to stand down and do nothing!
'What? Seriously? Are you sure?' she asked her incredulously. Was she out of her damn mind?
Yes, it seemed she was. As unbelievable as it was, Aryanna had just given her a facial command to not interfere and simply let it happen.
As unbelievable as it seemed, her friend WANTED to get caned.
Stunned, Susan sat back. 'Well, okay then. If that's really what you want then... so be it. But I'll be watching. At the first sign that she's changing her mind, I'll be ready,' she thought as she settled down to wait.
The next few moments were going to be agonizing and painful, and not just for Aryanna. But she would endure it. She would hate it, but for Aryanna, she would do it!
WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!
WARNING! SEVERE GRAPHICAL CP AHEAD!: For those of you who don't want to read about a severe caning scene of a young twelve-year-old girl, you may want to stop reading the chapter now. I thank you for reading this far and I hope to see you again for the continuation in the next chapter.
For those of you still here... prepare yourselves, you're going to be in for a rough painful ride. I in no way condone any form of corporal punishment in real life. All things considered, I tried to give this scene as much attention...and love (as ironic as that sounds) to make it as good as possible. This is strictly fictional and should be treated as such. This version of Hogwarts is old fashioned... just like the medieval word. Old fashioned marriage contracts - life debts, concubines, corporal punishment of children and even slavery still exist.
WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!
Aryanna was gripped by terror. There was no escaping it, no way to soften the truth—she had just given Susan a command to stand down, ensuring that she would not intervene.
She had chosen the certainty of pain over self-preservation and now had to endure the consequences.
With one last approving nod to Susan, Aryanna forced herself to stay still as Snape, his grip tightening around the cane, stepped closer. His eyes burned with an uncontrolled fury, his movements sharp with intent. He positioned himself behind her, testing the weight of the instrument with a few slow, deliberate swings through the air. Whether it was meant to intimidate or simply prepare, it didn't matter. The effect was the same. Her stomach clenched, her pulse pounded, and cold dread coiled around her like a serpent, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Gulping softly, her body involuntarily trembling, Aryanna took a breath, trying to steady herself. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to move, to flee, to fight, to not let it happen—but she forced herself to stay put. She had chosen this. Now, all she could do was endure.
Snape muttered a spell, and Aryanna stiffened as she felt her skirt lift upwards. A chill ghosted across her skin, sending fresh waves of humiliation through her. She clenched her fists, heat rising to her face. She had braced herself for the cane—but not for this level of exposure. 'I should have expected it,' she thought with a resigned sigh.
She kept her head down, refusing to give Snape the satisfaction of seeing her expression. This can't be happening, she thought, mortified. Her classmates only had a partial view, but knowing that even just one person could see her like this, in this vulnerable position made her stomach twist.
Her anger flared, burning through her fear for a moment. Enjoy the view while you can, you pervert, she thought bitterly. She just hoped—prayed—that this sacrifice would be worth it. It had to be! This could not be for nothing.
Her thoughts stilled as Snape tested the cane against her skin, tapping lightly a few times in cruel preparation. Each touch sent a fresh wave of dread through her. She gulped, forcing herself to stay still. 'Be brave! Stay Still! Endure! Be Brave! Stay Still! Endure!' It became like a mantra to her. 'It will all be over soon,' she reminded herself. 'Just one strike. That's all, one, not more!' She repeated the mantra in her head like a lifeline. It was all she had to stop her from bolting right there.
She saw Snape lift the cane high above his head. This was it. Aryanna clenched her eyes shut, bracing for what was to come.
The first warning wasn't the pain—it was the reaction of her classmates. A collective gasp rippled through the room, a silent confirmation of the horror about to unfold.
Then came the sound. A sharp, slicing whistle cut through the air, a cruel harbinger of the certain agony that was to follow. The impact landed with a sickening crack, striking the most vulnerable part of her flesh. A shockwave of searing white-hot pain tore through her, burning deep, branding itself into her skin. The force of the blow shoved her forward against the desk, knocking the breath from her lungs.
A distant, detached part of her mind registered the sheer strength behind the strike. Snape had put his full force into it. There was no mercy – none expected, nor given.
For a moment, she dared to hope that it was over. The strike had landed, and the impact had forced her forward, but nothing else had come. Maybe—just maybe—that was it. But deep down, she knew better.
The real agony always took a moment to arrive. And when it did, it crashed into her like a tidal wave.
Her eyes flew open, a sharp gasp tearing from her lips before she could stop it. AHHH! FUCK! OWW! OW! OW! OWIE! Her mind screamed in pure, unfiltered torment. The world blurred, reduced to nothing but the fire consuming her skin.
She clenched her fists, every muscle trembling with the effort to stay silent. The pain was beyond anything she had imagined—searing, slicing through her nerves like a molten brand. It wasn't just a sting; it was deep, sharp, and merciless, carving a raw line of fire into her flesh.
It pulsed, growing, spreading—hot, relentless, throbbing. It wouldn't fade quickly. Soon it would settle into a deep, aching bruise, a relentless reminder of this moment for the rest of the day—maybe even longer.
Aryanna knew from past experience—that a caning was a battle of wills. The student's goal was simple: to endure and show as little weakness as possible. The teacher, however, had no such restraints. Some saw it as a mere duty, others as a lesson in discipline. But Snape seemed different. At that moment he was different! He wielded the cane with precision and intent, ensuring that its impact was sharp, unmistakable...and above all, lasting.
She clenched her teeth, struggling to hold out, to remain defiant. The urge to cry out was overwhelming and growing by the second, clawing at her throat, demanding release. Worse still was the near-instinctive need to grab at her burning skin, to press, to rub, to do anything to dull the agony now searing through her flesh. But she couldn't move—her body, temporarily seemingly in a state of paralysis, locked in the throes of pain, refused to respond.
That, at least, kept her hands where they were and out of the way.
As for the cry building in her chest, she swallowed it down with sheer force of will. She was hurting, oh how she was hurting, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter. Instead, her teeth clamped together, jaw aching with the effort to keep silent. Her entire body trembled, every nerve in her backside screaming in protest.
In the end, all the class heard was a single, pained grunt—low, strained—followed by a sharp breath as she forced herself to steady. The first warm tears began to slip down her cheeks, silent witnesses to the torment she refused to voice.
Aryanna was in shock. Pure, undiluted, mind-numbing shock. There was no other way to say it.
Never before had she felt such pain. She had known corporal punishment was used in schools, every child knew it, had felt it at some point—she may be living in the waning days of physical punishment, but strict discipline was still expected, accepted even. But this... this was different. It wasn't just a reprimand or a lesson in obedience... It was more.
The six of the best from her previous principal had been nothing compared to this.
Even Uncle Vernon's punishments, cruel as they were, had never burned this deep. This wasn't just discipline—it was something harsher, deliberate. And to her growing horror, she realized Snape wasn't merely punishing her. He was making a point. He wanted to harm her, hurt her... to ensure the pain was lasting, undeniable.
Her eyes were wide, unfocused, the searing ache consuming all thought. The world had narrowed down to nothing but the relentless fire in her skin. She had been so sure she could endure one strike. So sure she would be able to stop him after one stroke. But as she lay on the desk struggling to recover, her breath caught in her throat. To her horror, she realized she could no longer move.
Then, before she even knew it, the next blow was already coming.
From her seat at the front, Susan's eyes widened in horror as Snape raised the cane again, stepping back to add even more force.
This wasn't discipline. This was brutal... barbaric!
The sharp intake of breath from the students around her only confirmed what she already knew—everyone was watching in stunned disbelief. Some whispered in hushed, horrified tones, while others, disturbingly, seemed almost impressed by the sheer precision and furiousity he put into his strike - and above all Aryanna's ability to take it.
Susan clenched her fists beneath the desk, nails biting into her palms. It was agonizing to witness her friend in pain, to sit there and do nothing. Not because she was powerless—no, she could act, would have acted. But Aryanna's order had been clear: Don't interfere. Let it happen.
So, against her better judgment, she stayed silent.
But hating it didn't even come close to describing how she felt.
Shwisshh—THWATT!
Susan's hands clenched the desk, her knuckles white as Snape struck again. His fury was unmistakable, fueled not just by the lingering pain from Aryanna's well-placed kick earlier when she had tried to get away from him, but by something deeper—something older. She didn't know it at that moment, but in Snape's mind, the ghost of James Potter lingered, the childhood tormentor reborn in the form of his daughter. And so, with every ounce of resentment he had in his heart for James Potter – Aryanna's deceased father - he once again brought the cane down on Aryanna's trembling, reddening skin.
A sharp, choked grunt broke the silence. Tears slipped freely down Aryanna's cheeks, but still—she refused to scream. It was clear Aryanna refused to let him win any more than she had to.
Susan winced. She doesn't have to do this. He can't do this. It's not right. She's protected. She's on the list. This is completely unnecessary!
Shwisshh—THWATT!
This time, a louder grunt, was followed by a muffled mewling childish whimper.
Susan's stomach twisted. How is she still staying silent? It was unreal. Aryanna's tolerance for pain was... insane! If it were her in that position, she'd have cried out long ago. There was no way she could endure that.
And yet, against all odds, Aryanna endured.
Shwisshh—THWATT!
"AHHHHhhhhh!"
The sharp, agonized cry tore through the room, sending a shiver down Susan's spine. This one had been worse—far worse. Stronger than the last. And this time, even Aryanna couldn't hold it in. Susan had no doubt that if her friend's body weren't locked in place by sheer will—or was it sheer agony?—she'd be writhing on the floor, clutching at her burning skin in a futile, desperate attempt to dull the pain.
There's no way I could have stayed down for that if I were in her place, Susan thought, once again amazed by her friend's willpower.
A quick glance around the room revealed the impact of the scene unfolding before them.
Hannah sat frozen, her face pale, tears streaming freely as she sobbed onto her desk.
And Hermione—Susan cringed. The kind-hearted studious girl had just lost her lunch, the sickening splatter staining her desk and dripping onto the floor.
Other students fared little better, their expressions ranging from shock to horror to outright distress.
At that moment, rage began to creep into Susan. How? How could this be allowed to happen? How could anyone have the power—be allowed—to do such a thing? Disgust twisted in her gut as she continued to watch.
shwisshh—THWATT!
"YEEEAAOWWWWWWWWWooooooooooo!"
Another merciless swish and Aryanna's cry morphed into a desperate wail of agony, louder than ever. The fifth stroke cut deep, another welt instantly rising, red and raw, the others already darkening into deep shades of purple. Aryanna's face twisted in pain, flushed crimson, her breath coming in ragged gasps as tears streamed freely down her cheeks.
Susan had enough.
That's it! Enough is fucking enough! she raged internally.
Sorry, Arya, you may be the princess, but to hell with your orders. Right now, you're a princess getting your ass beaten raw—red, blue, and purple! That disqualifies you from giving orders, and I will not stand by and obey if you're acting like a daft cunt. This ends now.
Without hesitation, she jumped to her feet, her chair toppling backward with a loud crash. Her grip tightened around her wand as she raised it high, pointing it directly at Snape, her fury blazing like an inferno.
Aryanna was drowning in indescribable agony, her body trembling, her mind spiraling into full-blown panic. Snape wasn't stopping. He wasn't going to stop. A sickening realization hit her like a hammer to her thumbs— he was too far gone in his rage to stop .
All she wanted—all she needed —was for the pain, this overwhelming, searing pain, to end . Nothing else mattered.
She had tried to call out after the second strike, to make him stop, to remind him of her supposed protection against corporal punishment—just like she had planned. But to her horror, she couldn't .
Why?!
She couldn't move. She couldn't even form the words.
It was only then that she realized—Snape had cast another spell. One that locked her body in place, trapped her, silenced her voice—yet still allowed her to scream .
A fresh wave of terror washed over her.
She had made a mistake.
A serious, terrible mistake.
Snape truly was a ruthless, evil bastard. And she was completely at his mercy.
Her stomach twisted as she watched, helpless, while the sadistic tyrant raised his cane once more—oh, that horrible, horrible cane—for a sixth stroke.
When will it end?! She mentally wailed in despair.
Deep in her chest, she felt a familiar stir—the Silver Crystal. It pulsed, sensing her spiraling panic, reacting to her desperation. Any second now, she knew it would act. And this time— this time —she wouldn't fight it.
She didn't care what it did.
Not anymore.
She was in too much distress to care.
She didn't care about secrecy. She didn't care about the consequences.
All that mattered was to make it stop.
She had to get rid of this...
shwisshh—THWATT!
"PAAiiiNNN!
Aahhhhhhhhhh! Aaaeeeiiii—AOWoww! Ow—oww, OWWWwwwooo!"
Aryanna's cries came in a long, wrenching sequence of howls and moans—first high-pitched, then lower, raw, and broken, like a wounded animal. The entire class winced, shivering in sympathy.
Then, several things happened at once.
The cane struck her again. A fresh wave of pain tore through her, the sixth welt searing into her already brutalized flesh. It was too much. Aryanna, finally overwhelmed and unable to handle the torment any longer, broke, screaming in pure agony. Her last shred of control snapped. The magic inside her—the magic of the Silver Crystal—burst free.
At the same time, Susan acted. The moment the cane began to descend, her wand snapped up. "Stupefy!" The Stunning Spell shot across the room, striking Snape square in the chest at the exact moment of impact.
But the Silver Crystal was faster.
Unleashed by Aryanna's single-minded desperation, it retaliated with force, merging with her accidental magic. A shockwave of blinding white energy exploded outward, slamming into Snape with the force of a sledgehammer. Already stunned by Susan's spell, he had no chance to react.
His eyes widened in brief, stunned realization—then he was blasted off his feet.
He hit the back wall with a sickening crack, leaving a spiderweb of fractures in the stone before collapsing to the floor, limp and unmoving.
A nearby cabinet groaned, then toppled, its glass doors shattering as it crashed to the ground. Hundreds of potion ingredients and rare elixirs spilled in a chaotic wave, drenching Snape's motionless form in a mess of ruined, irreplaceable substances.
For a moment, nothing moved.
Then, with an almost poetic finality, the cane rolled off the desk and clattered onto the floor.
After that, there was silence once more.