The Burning Pen

Through the Looking Glass
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 38

All recognizable characters belong to JKR. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 38 ~ New Rules and a Parting of the Ways

The boycott went into effect immediately, with students, feeling buoyed and ecstatic by their new sense of solidarity, canceling their appointments with the staff and not rescheduling them. Flitwick, still covered with the healing remnants of his boils, frowned up at Luna, who stood before his desk quietly, her blue eyes undisturbed at his obvious fury.

”And when do you plan to reschedule, Miss Lovegood?” he said to her sharply.

”I’m not sure I ever will, Professor,” she replied softly, returning to her seat as the next student stepped up.

Ron gleefully informed Professor Sprout he wouldn’t be showing up for her weekly buggering. The witch was furious.

”Count on a big, fat T for Troll, Mr. Weasley,” she snapped at him as he walked away.

”At least I won’t be bouncing off your big, fat arse,” he muttered under his breath as he returned to his fellow Slytherins, Hermione grinning at him.

The excited students poured into Transfiguration class, Slytherins and Gryffindors talking to each other without the usual insults passing between them. They weren’t buddies, but they weren’t being rude to each other, which was an amazing change.

Professor Snape stood up and asked them all to be seated. They did so, looking at him expectantly. He walked around his desk and leaned back against it.

”In lieu of today’s events, the on-going boycott and in recognition of your demands, I’ve made some changes in the way extra credit in this class will work,” he said. “I’d like to take a moment or two to explain them before we begin class.”

The students continued to look at him as he strode to the back of the class and pointed to a folder on the door with a number of parchments sticking out of it.

”These are extra credit sheets. Originally, a student made an appointment with me, came to my office, selected what act or acts they wanted to engage in, then we proceeded from there. I realize now, that was a bit constricting. Now students can take a list, take them to their dorms and fill them out at leisure, taking their time to go over them and decide what they wish to do. It also gives a better option for those of you who wish to do joint extra credit with another student. When you’re ready, you can hand in the extra credit list and make your appointment then.”

Murmurs of approval rose from the Gryffindors, while the Slytherin didn’t respond, but looked extremely interested. Snape turned to his desk, picked up several parchments and passed them out, returning to his position at the front of the class.

Hermione studied the paper. It was the extra credit list, but certain acts had lines through them and the check boxes blacked out. The points of the remaining acts were also crossed out, and higher ones written in. She looked up at the professor, a bit perplexed.

”This is the extra credit list that will be in force during the boycott. As you can see, I’ve removed a number of acts from the list. Those are as follows, sexual intercourse, anal intercourse, full fellatio and any other act that requires me to ejaculate. I’ve done this because it is quite possible that as the only teacher that follows the checklist, I may have an increased extra credit workload. Let’s face it . . . I’m only one wizard. I cannot possible interact with every age of consent student at Hogwarts to that degree. I will dry out and die of exhaustion.”

This comment was met with chuckles.

”Since I’ve removed the higher point acts, I’ve increased the point gain of the other acts to compensate. As I said, this is only temporary. In addition . . .”

Here, Snape arched an eyebrow at the Slytherins.

”I have also instituted a ‘cap’ on the amount of extra credit a student can earn in a term. This is because I feel there is a distinct possibility that a few students might be tempted to ‘manipulate’ the system and garner a large enough cache of extra points, that they would be able to sail through my class with a minimum of effort the rest of the year. That’s not about to happen.”

A few Slytherins smirked at this.

”Snape’s sharp,” Ron whispered to Harry, who was studying the wizard.

”Another change I’m instituting is that those students who have marks high enough not to need extra credit work, will not automatically qualify for it,” Snape continued, scanning the class with a slight smile. “In that case, it will be my choice rather or not to issue an appointment. Turnabout is fair play.”

Hermione smiled at this. She had never considered it, but teachers didn’t have much choice as to who they engaged either. She didn’t know if professor Snape felt this way, but if he did, he’d found an out of sorts, as long as the students kept their grades up.

”And finally,” the wizard continued, “there have been checkboxes added for written extra credit and special projects for those of you who would like an option other than engaging me as a means to earn extra points. I imagine the Slytherins will be pleased with that option and I will be up to my neck in extra parchments to mark.”

The Slytherins didn’t look as excited about that as he thought they would.

Neville raised his hand hesitatingly.

”Yes, Mr. Longbottom?” Snape said, addressing him.

”Um, Professor Snape . . . I have a question about the role-playing option. Do you have like . . . costumes or something?”

Snape smiled.

”No, Mr. Longbottom, I do not. I have a small Room of Requirement that provides whatever setting and clothing, or lack of it thereof that will be needed for role-playing.”

Once again, murmurs arose from the students. Snape had his own ROR? How cool was that? The ROR at Hogwarts was off-limits to students and could only be used by special dispensation. Of course, if they were to access the room, most likely it would be used for role-playing anyway.

Another hand went up. This time it was Ginny Weasley.

”Yes, Miss Weasley?” Snape said.

”What does the Voyeurism choice entail?” she inquired.

”Exactly what it states. I . . . watch and don’t touch,” the wizard replied. “Although some students change their minds during that particular act. It is one of the few acts that I allow to be altered while in process. But generally, the extra credit only entails what is on the list. If a student wishes to increase the points, they have to make another appointment. So, in order to make the best of your time, consider what you wish to do carefully.”

Ginny nodded, her brown eyes falling on the credit list with more than a little interest.

”Are there any more questions?” Snape asked the class.

Several more hands went up, all Slytherin, as the Gryffindors looked on with surprise.

Class got started very late that day, and when the students departed, Snape saw not a single extra credit list remained in the folder. He didn’t take make any appointments with students that day, and cancelled those he had, stating he would start accepting extra credit appointments tomorrow. He wanted the students to think about it, rather than rush in.

He felt better than he had in years. All thanks to one angry young witch with the nerve to go after what she wanted. Hermione Granger was extraordinary.

”I’d better start taking daily doses of Stamina potion,” Snape said to himself as he gathered together a few parchments. “I have a feeling I’m going to be extremely busy.”

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After warning his students to do their work, Snape billowed out of his classroom to his lab, where the Confundus potion was brewing. He quickly lifted the top of the cauldron and examined its progress. Yes, it was the thick, black color it was supposed to be. He deftly added the next set of ingredients, sprinkling them lightly on top of the simmering liquid and carefully adjusting the heat. He recovered the cauldron and returned to class, walking silently, hoping to find a student doing something untoward.

He didn’t. They were all seated and reading as they were supposed to be.

They knew better.

Scowling, the Potions master sat down at his desk and pulled a stack of parchments toward him. Essays. Blech. Always horrible reading.

Well, if things went well, this would be his last year of reading the work of dunderheads. He’d be striking out on his own. Snape had always wanted his own apothecary shop. One that provided the freshest, rarest ingredients and most potent potions imaginable, with the highest price tags and by appointment only.

He intended to make Albus invest in the shop, since Snape himself had very little money. Yet, he wanted more than the thanks of a grateful wizarding world if he pulled this off. It meant nothing to him coming from a world that despised him for most of his life.

Hard, cold galleons would do just fine.

”Um, Professor Snape . . . I’m done,” a voice said, breaking through his daydream. Scowling, Snape looked up at Hermione Granger.

”Just put it on the desk,” he snapped in irritation.

Hermione slowly did as he asked, then sat down again, folding her hands and watching him as he went back to the parchments. He hadn’t seemed very focused on them before. She wondered when he’d come for her. Tomorrow was the seventh day . . . the day when the mystery surrounding Tom Riddle would be revealed. And the day after . . .

Hermione paled slightly.

The day after could be her last day on earth.

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”Can’t I go with you, Masssssster?” Nagini hissed as she rested on Voldemort’s shoulders as he sat on his throne, the wizard stroking her flat head idly with one finger.”

”I don’t believe so, Nagini,” he responded in Parseltongue.

Nagini adjusted herself so her head was directly in front of the wizard’s snake-like countenance, her cold eyes meeting his.

”I don’t undersssstand. You are abandoning me, Massssster?” she hissed rather angrily. “I have held your ssssssoul for agessss. Isss thisss my thank you?”

”Nagini, I am tired of this world, this battle. Of being seen as a monster when all I wish is to rule,” the despot said. “This is an opportunity for me to be in a better position. I will not pass on it for you or anyone.”

Nagini hovered quietly for a moment, then hissed, “Ssssso be it, Masssster!”

Then, she looped her coils around his neck and began to choke him.

”I will not be left behind,” the snake hissed.

Voldemort’s eyes bugged out of his head, redder because of the veins that burst in his retinas as he clutched at the snakes coils, dropping his wand in the process. Nagini looped more coils around his body, tightening them as he breathed out, not allowing the wizard to draw in more air.

”Die, Massssster! Die!” the snake hissed, holding tight, her cold eyes still cold as she felt him relax and fall still. She remained wrapped around him for several minutes. No one was on the premises . . . no one had witnessed his murder.

The snake slowly uncoiled and made her way down his limp body, to the small raised dais and down to the floor. She slithered over to one of the bonfires and curled around it for warmth. No one would suspect her.

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Deep in the bowels of Gringotts Bank, a low rumble sounded. The blind dragon guarding the area lifted its head, blowing a waft of smoke, its scaly ears pricking forward.

Within a vault ornately decorated with the letter “B,” a cup tumbled from the top of a stack of coins down to the floor. The cup was made of gold, with two finely wrought handles on either side and a badger engraved on its surface.

The cup began to tremble, and the vibrations made the coins and other valuable objects crash to the floor, shaking the very foundations of the structure with the force of the magic being released.

On the upper floors, bank customers and goblins alike were fleeing the building. Griphook, the head goblin stared at the shaking bank, unable to fathom what was happening.

Below ground, the cup began to glow with a dark light, which flooded the vault, then burst apart, sparks flying. The building stopped shaking.

”It must have been an earthquake,” Griphook said to a nearby goblin.

”Must have been,” the goblin agreed as they hurried back inside the building.

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Nagini slept, coiled around the bonfire, feeling no remorse at killing her master. He was going to abandon her after her years of faithful service. He no longer needed her venom to survive. His return at the graveyard had strengthened him, the blood of his enemy now running through his veins and fueling him. She had been little more than a pet since his return. And Voldemort had been about to cast her aside as if she meant nothing.

Well, he took a journey all right. One he would never return from.

Nagini was a true snake, and as one . . . deaf as a rock. The only reason she could hear her master speak was because he was a Parselmouth and magic was involved. So, she didn’t hear the cough from the throne and the indrawn breath, or the stealthy steps easing down the stone dais, or the pause as an elegant, scaly hand quietly picked up the thirteen and a half inch wand made of yew from where it had fallen.

Nor did she hear the quiet, determined approach, or see the twisted facial expression of her resurrected master as he cast his spell. But she did feel the burning pain of it as Voldemort bisected her with the Sectumsempra hex, the snake’s divided body writhing and contorting as the dark wizard looked down on his traitorous pet.

”Yes, Nagini, you held a fragment of my soul, but you should have realized that you weren’t the only vessel,” he hissed at her as blood and gore covered the stone floor. “I never dreamed you had this in you, Nagini, you treacherous reptile. You’re worse than an abandoned lover.”

He watched dispassionately as his familiar’s divided parts thrashed and rolled around the throne room, the latter part falling still first as the upper part continued, the snakes mouth gaping horrendously as life slowly fell away. Finally, she lay on her back, her mouth working, the limber bones of her spine exposed, surrounded by bloody strips of flesh. Voldemort walked to her head and looked down at her.

All Nagini could see was her master’s upside-down feet and the hem of his scarlet robes. She tried weakly to strike at them, to send her last bit of venom into his veins, but all she could do was extend her fangs weakly.

”What a terrible end to a long friendship,” Voldemort said to the dying snake in Parseltongue as he pointed his wand at her.

”Goodbye, Nagini. AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Nagini was bathed in the dread green light for several moments before it ended . . . with her life.

Voldemort studied her for a moment before kicking the snake’s upper body into the closest bonfire, and setting her other half ablaze.

”Well,” he said to himself as he returned to his throne, the remains of Nagini smoldering behind him, “that takes care of the familiar problem.”

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A/N: Ah, we return to our more familiar world. A lot going on. Bad Nagini, but a good try. Damn Horcruxes. Good thing Voldemort revived however, otherwise Hermione would have been in a bad way. Anyway, thanks for reading.

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