It had really been so easy. He'd wondered, to himself as he walked down the hallways, why he simply hadn't done it before. Perhaps it was some misguided loyalty to Hogwarts. Perhaps it was the insane notion that he would get into trouble for it.
He was above getting in trouble for anything. Given his lineage, people should be falling down and kissing his feet. He liked the sound of that, wrapped himself in the images that created.
Granger had been the first, and by far the hardest to do. In the end, he'd almost given up on even trying, until she herself pulled him down onto her bed and inside her. He'd always know the ice bitch would be an incredible fuck.
It was almost a shame to strangle her as he reached his peak. A charm to fill her mouth with water and holding her mouth and nose shut had done the trick. It was the quietest he'd ever known her.
Sick bitch had cum before dying too.
Weasley was easier. Too trusting, that one. Always eager to jump into the fray at the slightest provocation. He'd simply spread the rumor that someone was going to attack his little sister and Weasley went running. Right into the mandibles of a very hungry acromantula.
His rival was by far the most satisfying. He'd delighted in taking him apart from the power a Death Eater has to wield. How dare he defy him, from the first day on the train, and expect to live?! He wouldn't have it any longer. So he taught the whiner his place, and left him as a warning for any who would dare follow.
He reached the door and knocked on it three times. A clipped, resonant voice beckoned him inside, and he entered, closing the door.
"Is it finished, then?"
He hated the pinched white face, the hooked nose, all of it. But he had to follow along for now. He smiled wickedly and nodded. "They're all taken care of."
Snape stood and crossed to him, looking him in the eye. He must have noted something, because he nodded. "Very good, then. Welcome to Slytherin house, Mr. Potter."
Harry had been told he would do great things. He knew, now, they would also be horrible. But he would endure.
The pictures in his album were weeping. He'd burn it next.