Chapter 75 | cold weather, colder behaviours

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--------------------> THE SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS were bracing themselves for the winter weather that was soon to arrive

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--------------------> THE SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS were bracing themselves for the winter weather that was soon to arrive. Jumpers became as common as brown eyes while chatter regarding the holidays filled the air. The winds were cool, stale and damp but colder still was the relationship between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

The newspapers printed the same news under different headings with each passing day. Anguished screams, attacks, the dark mark, purity and death were some of the most-used words while students hurriedly flipped the pages of the Daily Prophet to check whether one of their beloved family members had been reduced to just another casualty of a war they wanted nothing to do with.

However, there were few that took bold strides across the hallways and adorned smirks on their faces, a complete contrast to the ones who cried while burying their faces into their palms. These were the privileged purebloods, those whose parents or close relatives bore a brand on their left forearm, who had been reassured that no harm would come to them.

They paid no mind to the misery of their peers, content with the illusion of a glorious future that had been promised to them. Their apathetic laughs which rung high in a sea of tears drew glares and curled fists and fortunately or unfortunately, nothing more.

After all, these jesters among mourners were elite, some of the wealthiest and most powerful persons in Britain who carried a legacy on their stiff shoulders. The court case which eventually led to Severus Snape being thrown into Azkaban was still fresh in the minds of the modest students and so were the several accounts and incidents where despite instigating another classmate first, the band of budding aristocrats had gotten away without even detention.

It wasn't fair, but life rarely was.

But what the majority of the school were unaware of was the shift in power that was taking place inside the House of Slytherin where the snakes were disowning age-old principles that guided and secured them for the sake of pledging their servitude to a madman. The general population was blind to the suffering, torment and ridiculed that so many Slytherins had had to face in the past simply because they followed the strict traditions and cultures created by their ancestors.

The Dark Lord was more than a symbol of a future where purity gained; he was a method to obtain revenge, for the purebloods to fulfil the vendetta that had been born against mudbloods, half-bloods and even blood traitors who renounced their beliefs and categorised it as 'backwards' and 'odd'.

To them, the embedded Dark Mark on their forearm provided the freedom to practise their faith freely and punish those who mocked those for it. To them, it was a way of balancing the scales of justice and oh how the power consumed their minds until that was all they could think of! To them, Lord Voldemort was the equivalent to Lady Hecate and they would bow to his feet, carry his commandments with pride and worship him with whatever resources they possessed.

In one of his recent speeches to his elite audience, Lord Voldemort had highlighted the obvious superiority of Slytherin and how the other Houses refused to acknowledge it. It was a shame, he had said, how they were trying to revolutionise the world before they could even shift ideologies at school and he was correct. There were little things that everyone could do, despite their power or social standing. Reminding the lessers of their betters was one of them.

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