Thursday couldn't have come soon enough. Harry was even more excited than he had been on the first day of classes. It was a strange stroke of luck that Defense Against the Dark Arts would be the last core class for them to get to in the week.
Charms and Transfiguration had been pretty boring, though that was fairly typical for the first lesson of the year. The professors insisted on going over what they could expect for the year, such as various switching spells in Transfiguration. Charms class would have the bulk of real magic for them to learn, and Flitwick was a good teacher so Harry didn't mind the class too much.
Potions though… Potions was a special sort of hell. Snape dispensed with year-long plans and had them begin a potion in the first five minutes of being back. It just happened to be the same potion that had been on their third-year final, which no one had gotten perfect.
Snape seemed to be in even more of a perpetually foul mood than was usual, though Harry considered himself slightly lucky that the target of his enmity seemed to be Neville, rather than himself. They all agreed that Moody seemed to be the cause of Snape's bad mood, and when they all finally arrived at their first Defense lesson, the entire class was excited.
Every last student arrived early, even the ones from Slytherin. It seemed almost unfair, getting paired with the Slytherins for what seemed like half of their courses, but Harry didn't let that bother him that day.
Professor Moody wasn't there when they sat down, and the entire class shook with nervous energy as the start time of the class slowly approached. But quickly, they suddenly heard the clicking of Moody's wooden leg as he hobbled down the corridor. He paused for a second outside of the door, before suddenly smashing it open and jumping into the room, wand drawn.
"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody yelled, his gravelly voice echoing off the walls. Everyone jumped out of their seats, but Moody merely laughed to himself as he walked up to the front of the room, his wooden leg rhythmically thumping on the ground. It felt like eternity from the time it took Moody to enter until the time he got to his desk.
"You won't be needing those today," Moody said, gesturing to the books that were on everyone's desk - The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Defence. He took attendance next, which seemed too normal for a man like Moody to be doing. Finally, he seemed ready to start the lesson.
"Everyone's here, that's good," Moody said, putting the student list away. "This may be your most important lesson of the year, or perhaps the most impressionable. Now, I've gotten a letter from your last professor, Lupin. It looks like you're all up to date on dark creatures - grindylows, kappas, vampires… and werewolves. I guess he would be an expert on that, wouldn't he? Anyways, what you're all lacking in is actual magic. Curses, hexes, jinxes. The Dark Arts."
"You may know who I am, from the scars I bear. Mad-Eye Moody, people call me. But is it really madness and paranoia when they're really out to get me? I'm an ex-auror. More than a few of your classmates' parents are in Azkaban thanks to me, and I call myself fortunate to have retired with as much of my body remaining as I have. Retirement isn't something most people in my profession are afforded the luxury of. But, I've agreed to return for one year to help Dumbledore out."
"What, you're only here for a year?" Ron called out, surprising Harry.
"Aye, laddie. You're Arthur's son?" asked Moody. At Ron's nod he continued. "He helped me out of a bit of a spot a few days ago - good man, your father. Dumbledore asked me back for a year, and a year is what I've agreed to, and then I can finally retire for good."
Moody turned around and hobbled up to the front of the room in front of the blackboard, for everyone to see clearly. "As I was saying, the Dark Arts come in many forms, and what the Ministry considers to be dark magic changes as frequently as the full moon comes and goes. But I'm not here to teach you about semantics. Dark magic is used to kill, torture, and maim. No good can come from it. Some spells aren't particularly difficult, either, yet the feeling of power they give can be addicting. The power to rend asunder a man's chest with a single word… to control someone with a mere whisper… to kill with nary a thought..."
Mad-Eye Moody paused for a second to lift up the hem of his robe, revealing his wooden leg. "My leg here, I lost it to dark curse. Of course, there are plenty of spells that can be used to take off a limb, but not all of them are dark magic. You can tell the difference, because this one was impossible to heal. Dark magic has that effect, a lingering necrosis that negates attempts at healing. Sometimes it's temporary, lasting a few weeks, months, even years, sometimes it's permanent. Had I been hit with a normal severing curse, the leg could have been reattached, or even regrown… but I was not that lucky."
"My nose is a similar story," Moody continued, noting that every student was fixated on him as he spoke. "I can't smell anything but the stench of dark magic now, but that is a pretty useful skill to have, I'll admit. I've got a taste for it. A Death Eater named Rosier took that piece of me. Had I been any slower, he would have had my head. But here I am, and he is dead. My eye… you've all noticed it surely. Fiendfyre took it, and pretty much my entire face. Don't bother writing down that spell - you won't find it in any book here at Hogwarts."
"The Ministry of Magic would prefered if I were to just teach you countercurses and leave it at that. They'd prefer if you'd never saw an illegal dark curse for the rest of your life. In fact, they'd prefer if dark magic didn't exist at all. But it does, and you have to know. It's no good knowing how to defend yourself, if you don't know what you're defending against. A basic shield charm can block a basic stunning spell, but what about a spell that can boil the marrow from your bones, or turn your skin inside out? What's the spell to defend against that? Perhaps that's an extreme example, perhaps not. There's too many dark spells out there to possibly cover them all, but the bottom line is that you have to know what you're fighting against."
"So where do we start? That's easy enough. Most dark magic is enough to get you sent to Azkaban for some amount of time, but there are a set of spells out there that are worse than all the rest. Casting one on a human, regardless of reason, is a one way ticket to a cell where you will never see the light of day again. Does anyone here know which spells I am talking about?"
Hermione slowly raised her hand.
"Miss Granger, you know?" asked Moody, focusing both of his eyes on Hermione.
"They're called the Unforgivables. They're aptly named, I say. From what I've read about them at least."
"Read much about dark magic do you?" Moody asked with a savage laugh. "Worry not, curiosity is not a crime. The Unforgivable Curses are not usually covered until your NEWT year, but I feel that you need to know about them, and Dumbledore agrees. So, can anyone else tell me one of the three spells that will get you a instant life sentence?"
Ron tentatively raised his hand, much to Harry's surprise.
"Yes, Weasley, you got one?" Moody called.
"Um, my dad told me about one, I think," began Ron. "He called it the Imperius Curse."
"Good, yes. Your dad would know about the Imperius Curse. It caused all sorts of trouble at the Ministry during the war. So much so, that the effects of it are still felt to this day."
Moody leaned over his desk and pulled out a jar from inside a drawer. As he unscrewed the lid, he continued talking. "In the war, Aurors got special authorization to use the Unforgivables on our enemies, the Death Eaters. Trust me when I say it's not a pleasant thing, but when you see your partner who you've known for twenty years get cut down by dark magic, when all we're allowed to use is non-lethal magic to fight back, you grow to accept it, and do what needs to be done. I've been given special permission to show you what these spells look like."
He opened the jar onto the desk, and a spider crawled out of it. With a silent spell, the spider began to grow until it was visible for the entire class to see. Ron flinched back away from the desk, his arachnophobia having never abated, especially not after his encounter with Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest. There was something unsettling about an unnaturally giant spider, Harry would admit.
"Imperio," Moody growled, pointing his wand at the spider. Instantly, the spider froze mid-motion. But then, it stood up on its rear two legs and began dancing. A couple seconds later, it did a cartwheel across the table. The students started to laugh.
"Think it's funny, do you?" Moody said coldly. "To utterly and completely dominate another human with a single spell, so they will follow your every order. It's nearly impossible to detect, as well. Fifteen years ago, you could be going to work, and not know if your coworker was under the Imperius, just waiting for the command to attack. You could be going home to your wife, who kills you in your sleep while under the Imperius. Aurors could be put under, Unspeakables, Obliviators. Even the Minister… and you'd never know. Think about that, before you laugh at it again."
The class was completely silent as the spider stilled on Moody's desk, having been released from the spell. He shrunk it down and put it back into the glass jar.
"There are ways to fight it," said Moody. "A strong mind can fight it - a person with great will power will be harder to control. The spell can weaken over time, or over distance as well. There are a few subtle signs you can look for. You'd think it'd be as easy as looking for strange behavior, but usually, you'll never know until the second it's too late, but there are signs. Glassy looking eyes, perhaps slight body twitches if someone is fighting back. Best way to fight it is to not get hit with it in the first place. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
"The worst part is that if you are let go," continued Moody in a soft voice, "regaining control is even easier the second time. As an Auror, we had a set of guidelines and questions to ask to see if someone's been compromised, but that's for your homework. But, before that, we have a second and third Unforgivable Curse to go over. Anyone care to hazard a guess at another?"
No one answered at first,but, after a minute, Neville Longbottom, of all people, raised a shaky hand.
"Longbottom, is it?" said Moody, looking at Neville with speculation.
"Yes sir," he said in a small voice. "The Cruciatus Curse."
Moody focused on Neville with both of his eyes now, but nodded his head. "Yes. A nasty curse, this. On the surface, it doesn't look any more dangerous than an electrocution hex, but I assure you, it is far worse. Best if you see it with your own eyes.
The ex-auror pulled out another jar with another spider, and again, grew it to a massive size, twice as large as the last time. Then, Moody stood back and carefully aimed with his wand. The wand movement was quick and precise, and the words clear, yet harsh. "Crucio!"
Immediately, the spider twisted in on itself, screeching in pain with its legs curling up on themselves. Moody held the spell for a good ten seconds, and with each second, the spider's pain intensified until the point where it stopped moving. Moody quickly let the spell go when he saw the stunned looks on the students' faces. Some of them were almost in tears, and Neville was ashen-faced, his hand clutching the sides of his desk in a white-knuckled grip.
"The Cruciatus Curse. It was a favorite of the Death Eaters, and its singular use is to create pain. Pain like you've never felt, never dreamed could even exist. There's no need for thumbscrews or knives to torture someone when you can use the Cruciatus," said Moody, darkly. He took a second to shrink the spider and put it back into the jar. Evidently it was still alive. Even Ron looked on in sympathy.
"Exposure to the curse for even a few seconds will likely ruin your day. A few minutes, and you're unlikely to be able to hold a spoon steady for a week. After five minutes, you'll likely start to lose your mind and never live a normal day ever again. Longer than that, and well, you'll be eating through a straw. More than a few good aurors were tortured to insanity. A few of my friends. I hope none of you have to experience that curse. Now then, the last Unforgivable, and arguably the worst. Anyone know what it is?"
Again, no one answered for a long period of time, everyone was still stunned silent, but eventually, Hermione coughed to get her voice back, and raised her hand.
"Yes, Granger. You said you read about them - what is the third one?"
"Avada Kedavra - the Killing Curse."
Moody nodded his head grimly, "Aye. The worst of the worst. Most spells can kill. Everyone of you has been carrying a lethal weapon since the day you turned eleven and got your wand. This spell serves no benign purpose however. Its only use is to kill. If the Ministry even got so much as a whiff that you knew how to cast it, you'd be in deep trouble."
For a third time, Moody got out another glass jar with another spider in it. As if sensing its fate, the spider tried to escape Moody's grasp, but after a few seconds, he trapped it in his fingers and immobilized it with a spell.
Moody faced down the frozen spider. Slowly, he lifted his wand, and with brief and deliberate consideration, he roared, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
The reaction was immediate. The spider died instantly, flopping onto its side as the immobilization spell dissipated. The class, for their part, flinched back in horror, with Ron nearly toppling his chair over. Harry was stunned with disbelief, the green flash...
"It's not nice, and it's not pleasant," Moody said quietly. "There's no counterspell either - just two words and you're dead. There's only one person known to have survived it, and he's sitting right here in front of me."
Harry hunkered down in his chair as both of Moody's eyes bored into his own. He reddened slightly as everyone in the class turned to look at him. He stared at the wall, reliving what memories he had of that night, only accessible when a Dementor was trying to suck the happiness out of his being. There was a flash of green light, and then his dad was dead. A minute later, his mom was begging to spare his life in exchange for hers. Voldemort killed her with a flash of green light anyways, and then turned it on him...
"There's more to magic than just saying a few words and pointing a wand and getting an effect. If you haven't realized this yet, you will learn this soon enough. There's no better example than the Unforgivables. The spells themselves are pretty easy, that's why so many dark wizards and witches flock to them. Two words, and a person is dead."
"You heard me say the words, Avada Kedavra. You could know the wand movement as well - the spell is well documented. But that's not enough. All of you could point your wands at me and say the words, and I wouldn't get so much as a nose bleed. It takes real hate, and a bit of power, to cast this spell, and to invoke most dark magic. The urge to see someone utterly defeated and dead, to see them crushed and bleeding, perhaps just for the sport of it, perhaps not even for that. You-know-who got to the point where he had such disregard for life that he could cast the spell on a whim - a true monster."
"I take no pleasure in showing and telling you all this. I've dedicated my whole life to fighting the Dark Arts, so children like you don't have to worry. I've killed dark wizards, it's true, but even after all these years, it still takes something out of me, to call up the feelings to kill even a spider. Magic is sacred, it's who we are. To twist it and use it in such a manner is to do a disservice to ourselves. Something to remember if any of you stray from the path."
"I'm telling you because you need to know. You need to know what the worst of the worst is. You need to know what to do if you find yourself in a situation - CONSTANT VIGILANCE. Those are the three Unforgivables, and usage on a human will earn you a spot in Azkaban, and they'll throw away the key. That's what you're up against, and it's my job to teach you how to fight it. Now, for your homework, get your quills out…"
The end-of-class bell rang after a few more minutes of Moody discussing the curses, in which the entire class was silent. But once it rang and they were out the door, everyone broke out into hushed whispers.
"Did you see it twitch - ?"
"Bloody scary - "
"Two words man, two words and it's done - "
Harry hadn't found the lesson as entertaining as Fred and George had, let alone the others in his year. He was stony faced, but mostly contemplative. Neville, on the other hand, was shaking.
Hermione noticed this as well, and went to confront Neville, "Are you alright?" she asked, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Neville looked to be holding back tears, but replied, "Yes, I'm fine, thanks. A very interesting dinner, er lesson, uh… I mean… what's for dinner?"
Ron turned to Harry and gave him a questioning look. Harry shrugged.
"Neville - "
The sound of a wooden leg thumping behind them had them all turn to see Moody coming towards them. They watched apprehensively as the grizzled professor turned to address them, but it was with a softer voice than he had used in the classroom.
"It's alright, son," he said. "Why don't you come to my office for a cup of tea? Should help calm the nerves - it's not easy, I know."
Neville looked like he wanted to do anything but be in an office with Moody at that moment, but he nodded his head.
"What about you, Potter, you alright?"
"I'm fine," Harry lied. "I didn't know that was the spell…"
Moody nodded his head in understanding. "Adults would rather none of you know any of this. But you've got to know. It seems harsh, perhaps, but there's no point pretending that this world is a nice place. You, more than anyone, deserve to know. Now, come on, Longbottom… I think I got a book that you might like."
Neville made eye contact with Harry and Ron, but they didn't say anything. He sighed, realizing that he had to go along with it. Moody place a hand on Neville's shoulder and whispered something into his ear as he led him towards his office.
"What was that about?" asked Ron, looking towards his friends.
"I'm not sure," Hermione admitted. "He looked torn up..."
"Crazy stuff," Ron replied. "Fred and George weren't wrong - I can't imagine anyone else actually showing us those spells. He really knows his stuff."
Ron took a look at Harry's face and immediately stopped talking, and didn't say anything until they reached the Great Hall.
The school days slowly ticked by after that, but none of them had been as impactful as the first lesson with Moody. They had taken more notes about the Unforgivables, and Moody had dropped a not-so-subtle hint that he would be testing the Imperius Curse on them, under Dumbledore's watchful eye, sometime in the future.
They had covered some other spells as well, with the first being the shield charm, Protego, and the second one being the stunning charm, Stupefy. They had seen the second one before, at the World Cup when the Aurors nearly hit Harry and his friends with them by accident.
It was a standard-use Auror level spell, and Moody felt it was perhaps one of the most important spells for a witch or wizard to know. It was a non-lethal method of subduing, but easily reversible and mostly harmless unless you happened to fall onto something hard.
The second spell, the shield charm, was equally as important. It would stop most school-yard spells, including the stunning charm, and was the ideal manner in which to practice both. Of course, Moody explained the the prefered method of defense was to not get hit in the first place, but as he wasn't likely running anywhere with a wooden leg, he had to do what he had to do to stay alive. He also warned that it was useless against more powerful spells and that other charms would have to suffice, though some had very specific counterspells which would be learned later on.
Learning the spells had been a bit of fun, Harry would admit. They got in two lines, with one casting shield charms, and the other casting stunning charms. Once someone had their turn, they went to the back of the other line.
Getting hit with a stunning charm wasn't the most enjoyable experience. It was like getting knocked out cold, and then waking up all disorientated. It only took getting hit once for Harry to resolve himself to mastering the shield charm.
Charms class was covering a lot of spells as well. Harry, Ron and Hermione had lucked out a bit, since when Hermione made her practice list for the Triwizard Tournament, several of the spells on the list came up in classes fairly early. The shield charm had been on it, as had the summoning charm they learned early on in Charms, followed by its opposite, the banishing charm.
Their personal practice had been going pretty smoothly. They had taken to using various abandoned classrooms, always away from the commonly traveled hallways. Ron had even toned his complaints down to a minimum, at least regarding the spells themselves. But, when Hermione brought up her personal project, something she called S.P.E.W, that's when the boys started to get annoyed.
It was an acronym for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. When Hermione had first told them about it, they had thought she was joking, but that had only made her more determined. The only way they could get her to continue helping them was to join her club, which they did though they were the only ones to do so until she managed to coax Neville into it, despite his protests.
There were badges and everything, with different color badges meaning different things. There was a treasurer, chairman, and secretary, all of which happened to just be Hermione at the moment.
Harry and Ron put up with it because they both wanted to keep learning spells. Harry had a knack for learning new spells, but Ron would get them fairly quickly after seeing how they were cast close up. And although Hermione would often be the one finding a spell, that didn't mean she was an automatic master of them, and often times, Harry would learn it within minutes of reading it, such as with the Stinging Hex.
It wasn't about the individual spells, however. They decided that quantity was more important than quality. It was good and all that Harry could cast a Patronus, but that was just one spell with an extremely narrow use, while a seventh year would know a hundred more spells than him. It wasn't uncommon for them to knock out a dozen spells in a single night, in the hopes that whoever the impartial adjudicator was would be impressed with their wide array of off-curriculum knowledge, rather than just having a specialization.
They weren't the only ones preparing for the choosing. Fred and George were taking it very seriously as well, and could often be found huddled in a corner of the common room discussing the finer points of a spell. Angelina Johnson was another person also preparing quite hard. Harry hadn't heard much about the other houses, but he figured it was a safe bet that most of the other students in Angelina's year would be entering as well, and that was quite a bit of competition.
It did seem like they were the only ones in the fourth year preparing though. Most of the others realized that they weren't going to be skilled enough to have a chance, but Harry and Ron were quite determined. Harry confided this with Sirius, but the letter he received back near the end of October was a bit concerning.
Harry,
I'm heading North immediately. I've been hearing a lot of strange rumours, and I've talked about it with Dumbledore. He sees the signs as well as anybody, if he managed to convince Mad-Eye to come out of retirement. The incident at the end of your last school year with Wormtail and the incident with the Death Eaters at the World Cup, something strange is happening and I want to be near you when it does. I may have failed Lily and James once before, but I will not fail them again.
Sirius
That concerned Harry a lot. Sirius combing back to England would only put him at risk again, and both Hermione and Ron agreed with him. He had several sleepless nights after that letter, just dreading the headlines on the next day's newspaper. He did not want Sirius to get killed on account of him.
