It Rains

Where have you been all this time?

There was not a glimpse of the morning sun. The windows were fogged with condensation and the light of a single candle reflected off them.

Severus was pacing back and forth, waiting for Filch's daily report but he didn't show up. He looked at the pendulum clock a couple more times and continued to ruminate in his mind on the misdeeds that the group known as Dumbledore's Army had committed so far. The students were beginning to rebel more strongly against the established regime and every day they carried out more risky actions to get the Carrows off their nerves.

"Longbottom," —Severus whispered as he reviewed Filch's latest patrol reports.

Neville Longbottom was the most reckless member of the DA and he had completely lost his fear of repercussions for sabotaging the authority of the Death Eaters. Severus sighed, wondering how he could protect the boy before the Carrows realised that he was the main instigator and ringleader of the rebellion. His Pure Blood status did not guarantee impunity.

Severus looked up and was surprised to see that the sunlight was already coming in strongly through the windows. What had happened to Filch?

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A weak, pitiful moan could be heard in the hallway leading to Argus Filch's office. Severus quickened his pace, his face darkened, and as he opened the door, his eyes widened in shock.

Filch was hanging from the ceiling by his ankles, chained with the same shackles with which he dreamed of one day returning to the punishments of yesteryear and which he always took pains to grease. The man screamed when he saw Snape, his face was red and swollen and his eyes were bulging out of their sockets.

Without a moment's hesitation, Snape pulled out his wand and unlocked the shackles, lowering Filch gently to the ground. The caretaker collapsed, wheezing weakly, unable to draw air. Snape helped him into a chair.

"Who was it?"— Severus asked, his voice unusually soft.

"Alecto... She said that... a... a Squib should not tarnish the name of Hogwarts," —Filch wheezed and began to cry uncontrollably.

"I'm going to find Madam Pomfrey," —Severus said, his concern barely concealed by his usual sternness. He turned and walked quickly towards the infirmary.

"She's a bitch," —he thought as he walked through the hallways. — "She is a bitch who thinks she can do whatever she wants at my school..."

His hatred made him grip his wand tightly. He would seek revenge in some way. He took a deep breath, feeling the need to sink once more into Occlumency, but before he could clear his mind a thunderous explosion echoed outside the castle, stopping Snape in his tracks.

"The courtyard," —he muttered under his breath.

But he didn't have time to react. A second, closer explosion deafened him, making the ancient stone walls vibrate. Snape's mind raced; the situation was deteriorating rapidly.

He ran to where dozens of students were trying to escape the hundreds of litres of Stinksap that now flooded the library. The screams mixed with chaos. The nauseating green slime left an overwhelming stench and was spreading rapidly, spilling out into the hallway. Snape swung his wand at it, attempting to clean up the mess, but the enormous amount of foul liquid overwhelmed his efforts.

"EVERYONE TO THE GREAT HALL!" —Snape commanded; his voice amplified to be heard over the din.

He led the terrified students towards the Grant Staircase, barking instructions to try to maintain order. One by one, they emerged from the library, some covered from head to toe in Stinksap, some slipping in the huge puddles of liquid. Severus cast spells, trying to vanish as much as he could. More teachers arrived, helping to evacuate the students from the first floor. Their safety was paramount.