So, I've decided to keep going, as you can see. Thank you all for the uplifting words and I feel kind of silly now for allowing people to get to me. I'm enjoying writing this again and will try to keep to the update schedule of every couple of days. It might slow down a little depending on how my work schedule is (and I need to hunt down the 5th book to start rereading) but I'll do my best!

Nox will be making changes from this point on, though he'll be trying to figure it out first, of course. But let me know what you think! I rather like how he dealt with Moody/Barty's class lessons :)

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Arthur warned Fred and George as I handed over five times the amount they'd given me—glad I'd brought that much from home. "Much less with Nox."

"Don't worry, Dad," Fred said with a grin as George draped an arm over my shoulders. "We've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated."

"And Nox is cool, right, Nox?"

"I'm not about to say anything, especially since I've been your supplier this whole time," I replied, earning a stunned look from their father before he shook it off and started to send everyone to bed.

I stayed put though, explaining that I'd napped earlier and wasn't tired even though the exact opposite was true. It was too noisy for me to try sleeping and Dubh wouldn't be showing up until I was back at Hogwarts, for his safety. And despite knowing most of the Weasley's, I didn't feel comfortable enough to let down my guard. Not with the Death Eaters showing up—My thought was cut off as screams rang out from outside, sending me to my feet in an instant as Arthur rushed in.

"Nox, get everyone up. Quickly!"

I nodded, starting to wake the boys as he went to wake up Hermione and Ginny, getting them to grab coats or a jacket and head outside for further instructions. People were running and screaming outside as tents burst into flames, every once in a while streaks of green shooting across the campsite. A group of wizards cloaked and wearing masks were marching through the field with the Muggle owner and his family being twisted and manipulated in the air above them, like puppets.

I reached over and tugged Hermione's hood over her head, instructing others to do the same to make it harder to get recognized. The last thing we needed was someone realizing Harry was here or Hermione, who would be first choice for pure-blood Death Eaters. Arthur, Percy, Bill, and Charlie rushed out of their tent, wands at the ready, and Arthur gave us the command.

"We're going to help the Ministry! You lot, get into the woods and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

Fred took Ginny's hand, not willing to let his younger sister get separated in this mess and we hurried after him towards the forest. Once there, we ended up split—with the twins and Ginny gone and huddles of other people gathered into groups in the forest.

"Fred and George can't have gone that far," Ron offered, lighting his wand as Hermione did the same with hers, but Harry reported his wand missing and we helped look around but couldn't find it.

Winky came out of the trees then, panicked and walking as though she were having difficulty, which was undoubtedly because of Barty Crouch Junior, hidden and bound to her. I watched the poor elf as she struggled to get away from the disaster happening in the campsite, remembering bits and pieces of what was going to occur. He escapes, raises the dark mark, and turns into Moody later. He's quite the actor, if I remember right, going completely unnoticed until it's almost too late. My favorite bad guy in the movies, and not just because David Tennant played him. I frowned mildly. How is it I can remember David Tennant, but not why Krum or Cedric are important?

There was a loud bang, encouraging us deeper into the forest until I pulled them to a stop.

"This is our best bet. We'll hear anyone coming from here."

They agreed just as Ludo Bagman came out from behind a tree, not even realizing what was going on and disapperating once he'd heard. Everything started to go quiet the longer we were waiting, but I remained tense, knowing better than to trust the quiet.

"I hope the others are okay," Hermione murmured, getting reassurance from Ron.

"Imagine if your dad catches Lucius Malfoy," Harry teased. "He's always said he'd like to get something on him."

"That'd wipe the smirk off old Draco's face, all right."

"Those poor Muggles though," Hermione said softly. "What if they can't get them down?"

"They will," I informed her, eyes shifting her way in the dark, though I too felt bad for not being able to help them. "The wizard doing it would be more likely to stop the spell to run from the Ministry than keep it going. They'll be obliviated too, though I'm not sure how well it will work this time 'round. I don't know enough about the spell to tell you if trauma won't come up later on."

Ron smacked my arm, making me frown as he nodded to Hermione, who looked unsettled. Ah, I shouldn't have said that last bit, should I?

"Sorry," I murmured, before hearing stumbling steps and whipping around, wand up. "Who's there?"

There was silence as I took a step forward, keeping the others behind me. I was the only one who knew a shield spell and had the most experience dueling out of the group, so they let me as whoever hid in the dark spoke.

"Morsmordre!"

A green spark flew up from the dark, lighting up the sky and creating a green skull and serpent in the sky. Screams rang out once more at the sight and Hermione started to get everyone moving, only for the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. Twenty or so wizards apparated and surrounded us instantly, wands aimed right for us and I shouted for everyone to duck, slashing my wand through the air with a shield charm to cover us as I crouched over the group as best I could.

"Stop! Stop!" A voice cut through the clearing. "That's my son!"

I whipped around at the sound of approaching footsteps, heart pounding in my ears and wand raised as I bared my teeth. I was scared again, fearing the wands pointed at us as if they were my father's and expecting the pain to come with it. It was only Arthur though and Hermione had grabbed my upper arm, helping to ground me to the present as the man hurried forward.

"Ron, Harry, Hermione, Nox. Are you all right?"

"Out of the way, Arthur," Barty Crouch Senior said coldly, approaching us with a sharp look in his eyes. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

"We didn't do that!" Harry argued as Ron did much the same.

"We didn't do anything! What did you want to attack us for?"

"Do not lie, sir!" He roared, pointing his wand at Ron before I stepped between them with my own raised, eyes cold.

"Use your head!" I shouted back. "You are part of the Ministry, not a raving lunatic! So, prove it by thinking this through before you go throwing accusations at a group of kids!"

"Nox!" Arthur said shortly and I grit my teeth to hold my tongue for now as he calmed us slightly. "Where did the Mark come from?"

"There was someone in the forest behind the trees," I answered as Hermione nodded and pointed to the general area. "They said the incantation."

"Oh, stood over there, did they? Said an incantation, did they?" Crouch scowled. "You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, young man."

"It's a spell, summoned by an incantation like any other spell," I argued in return, struggling to rein in my temper with his wand still pointed at me. Go check for yourself. They should have been stunned over there since you missed hitting us."

Amos Diggory went over to check instead, calling out that they had someone but sounding uncertain. His uncertainty was confirmed when he brought back Winky, Crouch's house-elf.

"This can't be. No," Crouch bit out, hastily rushing into the forest as well to double-check, though I knew it was so he could try and find his son that he'd snuck to the event.

It gave me a chance to relax though, lowering my wand finally, though my body was still tense as murmurs started around the group of Ministry workers. Amos revealed the wand the house-elf had then, and Harry announced it was his after Crouch had returned looking pale. For a second, accusations turned to him until they realized how stupid it would be for Harry to summon the mark and turned back to Winky, who was conscious again to try and plead her case.

It didn't go well either, despite our mentioning the person who spoke was an adult human male, I knew it wouldn't help her when Crouch needed someone to put the blame on, so it wouldn't be discovered that he'd taken his son from Azkaban and brought him here. The only bit of hope she would get was that Dumbledore would hire her to work at Hogwarts when Crouch fired her.

This, of course, started up Hermione on the treatment of house-elves on the way back to the tent as I silently wondered if Arthur had any alcohol tucked away somewhere. The headache potion had worn off in all the excitement and I'd only brought one. Once getting back to the tent, I felt bad for the older Weasley's and offered to patch them up—Bill had a rather large gash in his arm that was bleeding, and the others had some scrapes and bruises.

The use of magic only added to my headache, but it would've gotten worse anyway with the discussion following to catch everyone up on what happened. You'd think they'd have some more common sense. A house-elf couldn't have cast that spell. They're just all trusting Crouch even though his attitude completely changed when he checked the forest. Merlin, and I froze again. With the wands pointed at me, I was seeing my father on the other end… My scars ache…

"Nox?"

I flinched away from the hand that had been reaching for my shoulder, relaxing slightly at seeing Arthur there as he retracted his hand.

"Sorry if I startled you. The others have already gone to bed and you weren't moving. Are you…? Well…"

I shook my head solemnly. "No, Mr. Weasley. I think even if I tried, I wouldn't succeed."

"I'll keep you company then," he said with a small smile, and despite my protests, he did.

It was nice to have company, but it wasn't the company I wanted, and I felt lonely, missing Lupin, Sirius, and Dubh.

All they could talk about were the various disasters that had happened at the World Cup. Mrs. Weasley had been beside herself with worry and strangled each and every one of them in a hug when they made it back, including an exhausted-looking Nox who was released the quickest, much to his relief. Said boy was quick to head upstairs and sleep while the others rattled on about Rita Skeeter's article in the paper that painted Arthur in a bad light. This meant he and Percy were quick to leave for the Ministry to help with the backlash, and Ron, Harry and Hermione escaped upstairs.

"There's something I haven't told you," Harry said then, looking back towards the door and wondering if he should wake up Nox as well. "We can tell Nox after, I suppose. He wasn't looking good earlier."

Hermione agreed, worried. "He said his potion wore off last night and Mr. Weasley said he hadn't slept the whole trip."

Ron hummed in thought. "Yeah, well, at least he's sleeping now. He's lucky nothing happened with him pointing his wand at Mr. Crouch."

"He'll be a bit temperamental," Hermione explained. "A full moon was only a few days ago, you know."

"Right! We haven't even asked how that's been going."

"Ron," she chided.

"What? You've got to admit you're curious. Professor Lupin didn't exactly tell us anything about his condition, after all."

"Guys," Harry pressed, turning their focus back to him. "The thing is, on Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again."

As expected, the two reacted with shocked concern. Hermione wanted him to tell Dumbledore or look up references. Ron looked dumbstruck, remembering how the last time his scar hurt, it was when Voldemort was at Hogwarts. Harry was quick to explain Voldemort wasn't following him around and it was a dream he'd had, which helped calm them down, but Harry wasn't convinced that's all it was.

"It's weird, isn't it? My scar hurts, and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again."

"Don't say his name!" Ron hissed, getting ignored.

"And remember what Professor Trelawney said at the end of last year?"

"Oh, Harry. You aren't going to pay attention to anything that old fraud says?" Hermione questioned, but Harry was adamant.

"You weren't there. You didn't hear her. This time was different," Harry insisted. "I told you, she went into a trance—a real one. And she said the Dark Lord would rise again, greater and more terrible than ever before. And he'd manage it because his servant was going to go back to him and that night Wormtail escaped."

"Did you tell Sirius?"

The trio yelped at the new voice—Nox yawning in the doorway as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Nox! Stop sneaking up on us!" Ron complained, having been the victim of Nox's near-silent entrances a number of times.

"You should close the door before you go talking about things like Voldemort."

"Stop saying it!" Ron complained as Nox kicked the door closed and looked to Harry, expecting an answer.

"I did write him a letter, but he hasn't sent anything back."

"Wasn't he with you, Nox?" Hermione inquired and Nox hummed.

"Was. He went back to traveling in order to keep the Ministry's eyes off Hogwarts. He didn't want to come to my place if he had dementors on his tail. He's been gone the last few months."

Ron, not liking the seriousness of the conversation after their already hectic night asked Harry suddenly if he wanted to play Quidditch in the yard and the boy agreed. Hermione rolled her eyes but noticed Nox hadn't moved.

"You're not going to join them?"

"Hm? Nah. I need some more sleep."

"Weren't you just sleeping?"

Nox grunted, dragging a hand through his hair and muttering about a nightmare, to which Hermione stood.

"Let me get Crookshanks. I'm sure he'll help since… Well, since you don't have Dubh. You sleep better with creatures, right?"

Nox looked a little surprised, nodding dumbly as Hermione smiled and bounded downstairs to scoop up her cat for him, not realizing the odd flutter that Nox's heart did when she'd grinned.

The Hogwarts Express couldn't come fast enough, and despite having stayed with the Weasley's for the duration of the summer after the World Cup, Nox still managed to slip away and fall asleep in the last empty train compartment before the others showed up. Hermione deposited Crookshanks on his lap when they entered—much to the other boys' confusion—but Harry noticed the pinch in his brow seemed to slip away with the weight of the feline purring on his lap. I hadn't even noticed…

It was raining rather hard that day though, and it only grew worse the further the train got, leaving lanterns lit by midday. Harry and Ron had started up a conversation about Quidditch after wondering what special event was going to happen at Hogwarts, which the older Weasley's were teasing them about. Hermione ended up reading a book, trying to learn a Summoning Charm while idly scratching Crookshanks to keep the cat purring on Nox's lap. Neville had slipped into the compartment by then, a little sad he hadn't gotten to go to the World Cup. Ron proceeded to show off the little Viktor Krum model he'd purchased and bragged about being in the Top Box, up until Malfoy interrupted.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," Harry snarked, trying to keep his voice down to not wake up Nox.

Said boy seemed to be rousing anyway though, with Pigwidgeon fluttering about his cage that Ron muffled with his dress robes. They still didn't quite know why they needed dress robes this year, but Harry and Nox had ended up with decent ones, whereas Ron got some frilly, cheap ones his mother found. Nox had already offered to alter them to be less… odd, but for now they were over the small owl's cage to keep him quiet. That is, until Malfoy pulled them off with a laugh.

"Look at this! Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean, they were very fashionable in about 1890."

"Eat dung, Malfoy," Ron spat, about as scarlet as his maroon dress robe.

"So, going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well; you know. You'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won."

Ron scowled, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

Hermione, seeing that Nox was stirring, snapped at him as well. "Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy. You're going to wake up Nox."

Malfoy stiffened, as though only just now noticing Nox tucked up in the corner. He'd had his nose broken at least once by him, and after getting shown up in dueling, he wasn't eager to pick a fight with the boy. Not until he could do some real damage.

"Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley," Malfoy huffed, turning to Crabbe and Goyle and leaving as Ron slammed shut the door.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, quickly holding up her hands to calm down Nox, who looked about ready to bolt from the compartment. "I'm so sorry, Nox. Malfoy just showed up and Ron got angry. That's all."

Ron, seeing he'd really started the boy, sat back down sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry. I forgot you were sleeping."

The trolley lady stopped by then and Hermione got Nox some licorice wands and a lemonade to help him calm down while Harry would've gotten something if he hadn't spotted Cho Chang ever so briefly. The rest of the train ride went rather calmly after that. Harry and Ron tried to explain some of the Quidditch rules for penalties to Nox, who didn't understand why it was all right to hit others with a Bludger bat at all during the game, but not okay to elbow them like during the World Cup.

The weather was undoubtedly at its worse when they reached the station, and Harry couldn't help but be grateful to Nox when he redid the insulating and shield charms that kept their school robes dry in the pouring rain.

"Ooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," Hermione muttered when they spotted the poor first-years who were moving towards Hagrid.

Harry couldn't help but agree, settling in for their carriage ride to the castle and rushing inside with a sigh of relief. Harry was startled though when there were screams and he saw water seemingly falling off the edge of a clear umbrella.

"Peeves!" McGonagall shouted—the poltergeist having dropped a couple of water balloons on them.

As she scolded him and sent him on his way, Harry trailed his eyes over the umbrella and to its source. Nox stood there looking a little miffed as water dripped off his hair, flicking his wand and ending the spell he'd cast before slipping his wand away.

"Stupid Peeves," he grumbled as Harry grinned.

"Thanks, Nox. You didn't have to do that."

Ron though was gaping. "Where'd you learn that?"

"It rains a lot in Scotland," Nox reminded him, dragging a hand through his hair and slicking it back with a sigh. "Father taught me it eventually so I could hold umbrellas over dealers while he sold things. It's simple. I can show you later."

Ron pumped his fist in excitement, but when Harry turned to ask Hermione whether she knew it or not, he stopped.

"Hermione, you okay? Your face is red."

"Huh?" Hermione squeaked, turning away from Nox quickly. "I-I'm fine! Just a bit warm in here, don't you think?"

"So, it's not because of Nox then, right?" He teased, voice low so Nox wouldn't hear and Hermione smacked him on the arm with a glare, shushing him.

"Shut up!"

Harry chuckled as they got seated for the start-of-term feast. He was eager to eat, though also looking forward to sorting, since they'd missed it the last two years because of varying circumstances. Colin Creevey greeted Harry excitedly, mentioning his younger brother was going to be sorted this year too.

"Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" Harry asked, having noticed all the Weasley's had gotten into Gryffindor.

"Oh no, not necessarily," Hermione replied. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

"The hat judges personality and their own wants though," Nox added. "Just because you're siblings doesn't mean you have the same drives or feelings as your brothers and sisters."

That makes sense. Harry spotted a few empty seats at the staff table then, knowing McGonagall was probably dealing with the incoming first-years but the Defense Against the Dark Arts chair was empty too.

"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Hermione asked, having spotted the empty chair as well. "Maybe they couldn't get anyone!"

"Someone would still teach it," Nox mused, tipping his goblet and frowning at its still empty bottom. "They're probably late… I need my potion…"

"Your head?" Hermione asked him and he grunted.

"It's not bad, but I haven't slept well lately, which makes it worse. I'll have to ask her for sleeping potions again this year."

Finally, the doors opened and the first-years trailed in, looking absolutely drenched in their school robes. One of whom, was a boy wrapped in Hagrid's coat. It was Colin's brother who mouthed proudly that he'd fallen in the lake. The Sorting Hat got to work after singing a new song, sending students to various tables and Dumbledore told everyone to tuck in as food filled the tables.

Nox, Harry noticed, downed his goblet in one swig grimacing mildly before it was refilled with hot tea and Nox started piling food on his plate, ignoring the stunned and terrified looks of the new and old students.

"Nox, you've got a bit of potion…" Harry said, pointing to his chin where a bead of blood-red potion had trailed down his mouth.

Nox licked what he could reach before dragging the back of his hand over his chin to make sure, diving into his food not a second later as students muttered about him being a vampire. Ron snorted, muttering about how they had it backward, but none of them mentioned Nox being a werewolf. It wouldn't be good if word got out about it, and he'd sworn them to secrecy since he might have to leave school if anyone knew. Then, Nearly-Headless Nick mentioned Peeves causing trouble with the house-elves in the kitchen and Hermione spilled her goblet.

"There are house-elves here? Here at Hogwarts?"

"Certainly. The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred," Nick hummed, rather surprised her at her stunned expression.

"I've never seen one!"

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they? They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning, see to the fires and so on. I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

She looked even more stunned asking about days off and money, surprising the ghost before pushing away her food, unable to eat at the thought. Thankfully, before she could cause a bigger commotion, Dumbledore stood.

"So! Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

A few people chuckled, knowing that no one was about to look at the list anytime soon.

"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry gasped, looking to the other members of the Quidditch team who were just as stunned and disappointed.

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy," Dumbledore went on. "But I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts—"

The Great Hall doors burst open then, silencing the man as an awkward-looking man limped his way towards the staff table. He leaned heavily on a staff, hobbling as he walked, and a flash of lightning across the enchanted ceiling lit up the scarred face. He had a large eye that spun around looking at anything and everything, appearing more magical than the gruff man himself. A shiver when up Harry's spine as the man sat in the empty Defense Against the Dark Arts chair, starting to eat himself.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore chimed in, completely unbothered by the man's entrance. "Professor Moody."

No one really clapped for the man, and the name made Harry remember something.

"Moody? Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?" He asked Ron.

"Must be."

Arthur Weasley had been sent out to handle Moody after he'd become paranoid that someone was trespassing on his property, jinxing several trash bins and summoning the Muggle police to the residence. The man was as jumpy and suspicious as a man could get, being an old Auror who'd made enough enemies to last a lifetime.

Dumbledore resumed what he'd been trying to say though before the man stumbled in.

"As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're joking!" Fred said loudly, enough so that everyone heard and began to chuckle.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore replied. "Though, now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar."

McGonagall cleared her throat, drawing him back to the task at hand.

"Uh, but maybe this is not the time. No. Where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament. Well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities. Until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered in concern, but everyone else was too interested in the tournament to notice the threat.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger."

Nox snorted, covering it up with a spoonful of ice cream that had appeared before him.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

Even more people were interested now at the prospects of money, but Dumbledore quickly shot their hopes down.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age—that is to say, seventeen years or older—will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion," he said seriously. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Being back in school had somehow managed to get me to relax. With the various lessons at hand and Dubh again at my side, I was distracted enough to finally get some much-needed sleep. The sense of dark loneliness had vanished as well, and with a quick trip to Madam Pomfrey's the first day, my headaches had been eased. Not even the Blast-Ended Skrewts we had to deal with could put a damper on my pleasant mood, though I still had to question how the hell Hagrid managed to find a creature that neither of us knew anything about. I'll have to ask him how he got them. He refused to say anything during class, so I bet it's illegal. For now, though, we were basically treating them like school projects, which I didn't mind.

It was our first encounter with Moody that I worried about the most. I knew the actual Moody was locked up in a chest somewhere, and that Barty Crouch's son was masquerading as him now. The problem was, because I knew this, I felt that I might let something slip. Though, if I remember right, he was a generally good teacher, if a little on the heartless side when it comes to showing us the killing curses. Turns out, I didn't have to wait long.

He showed up not long after Malfoy picked a fight with Ron on the second day. Arthur had ended up in an article in the paper written by Rita Skeeter—I will definitely have to keep an eye out for her—and Malfoy thought it smart to poke fun while I was on my way to meet up with them.

"And there's a picture, Weasley!" Malfoy chuckled, holding up the paper in question as I grit my teeth and squeezed past students to try and get to where the others were. "A picture of your parents outside their house - if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

Ron was shaking in fury, I saw, as Malfoy continued.

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter? So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

Harry, not one to put up with the rude treatment of his friends for long, finally snapped. "You know your mother, Malfoy? That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"

Malfoy turned beet red. "Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," Harry said back, turning just as I stepped between his back and Malfoy, snapping out a shield charm as Malfoy shot out a curse.

It ricocheted, bouncing off the invisible shield and slamming into Malfoy, knocking him onto his backside. I glared down at him as he started to scramble to his feet at the sight of me, but before he could try anything else, there was a loud "bang" of another spell and a bellow from nearby.

"Oh, no you don't, laddie!" Moody lipped over quickly, wand out and pointed at Malfoy—now a snow-white ferret—as he looked at Harry. "Did he get you?"

"No," Harry replied, rather surprised by the man coming to his defense. "Nox protected me. Thanks, Nox."

I grunted, eyes narrowed at the ferret. "It was dirty of him to try and mess with you guys while I wasn't around. More so to try and attack you when your back was turned."

"He's right," Moody growled, using his wand to lift the ferret off the ground and bouncing it repeatedly off the ground. "I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned. Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do."

"Professor," I tried to stop him, wincing every time the ferret hit the floor.

Every instinct in me told me to stop what was happening to the creature, but my mind reminded me that it was Malfoy, making it difficult to decide whether or not to intervene.

"Never. Do. That. Again."

I wasn't exactly thinking when I disarmed Moody, stiffening when I caught his wand and his eyes swiveled to me. Before anything could happen though, McGonagall rushed over, looking stunned.

"Mr. Sterling! Professor Moody!"

Of course, I'm getting blamed. "Professor, I only—"

"Not a word," She said sharply, flicking her wand and transforming Malfoy back. "Give Professor Moody back his wand. Now."

I did so, the man snatching it back with a glare as I mentally cringed. Great. Putting Barty Crouch Jr. on my list of people who hate me, somewhere between Snape and Lockhart. McGonagall rounded on Moody though.

"What were you doing?"

"Teaching," the man grunted, making her already tense expression grow even more pinched.

"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment! Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," Moody replied, scratching his chin in apparent unconcern. "But I thought a good sharp shock—"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that, then." He grabbed Malfoy and hauled him off to the dungeon as McGonagall turned to me, making me look away in unease.

I'm not mentally a child, but she has a damn good glare.

"And you, Mr. Sterling. What were you trying to accomplish? You know there's no spell use outside of the classrooms, and disarming a teacher is—"

"He was a ferret," I muttered, interrupting her as I tried to explain. "Sorry. What I mean is—"

"He was just trying to protect me, McGonagall," Harry jumped in. "Malfoy said some things and we were going to leave, but he shot a spell at me. Nox just stopped it hitting me, then Moody turned him into a ferret and started bouncing him around."

Ron and Hermione also agreed, hoping that multiple witnesses would help ease my punishment.

"We really were leaving!"

"And Nox can't stand animals getting hurt, so—"

"Yes, all right," McGonagall cut everyone off. "I will let this go for now, since you were only defending students. But do try to not cause any more trouble, Nox. I'm afraid our Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers get enough trouble from you as it is."

Not my fault Quirrell was afraid of vampires, so my vampire rumor freaked him out… And Lockhart was an absolute dick of a human being… And Lupin was cool, but… turned me into a werewolf and… well, shit. She's right, isn't she?

"Yes, ma'am," I murmured.

"Good… Five points to Gryffindor," she said then, surprising us. "For defending not only your friend, but your enemy as well. Just don't let me catch you again."

She hurried off and the group of us continued on, managing to laugh about the situation and the new dirt we had on Malfoy; the amazing bouncing ferret. The odd thing was, Hermione kept running off to the library the first chance she got. None of us really knew what she was doing—nor would she explain at any point—and three days later, it was time for our first class with Professor Moody.

Everyone was excited, having heard rumors from other students that his class was great. As such, Harry demanded we get good seats in the front of the class, whereas I'd rather tuck myself in the very far back. I knew what was coming and didn't want to be anywhere near where the spiders were going to be tortured. The others didn't know that though and asking to be separated from them would bring up questions I couldn't answer. So, I begrudgingly sat between Hermione and Harry, sinking down in my chair with a small groan.

"Why are you the only one not happy about this?" Ron asked, eyeing me like I was insane.

"I disarmed him. He probably hates me and will make a point of picking on me this lesson," I lied.

"He's not Snape," he scoffed as Moody limped his way in and told everyone to put their books away.

"Right then. I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures. You've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

Everyone agreed, though I pointedly stared at his desk in unease, knowing what lay within.

"But you're behind—very behind—on dealing with curses," he continued. "So, I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark—"

"What? Aren't you staying?" Ron interrupted, Moody's magical eye swiveling to stare at him and crack what could only be a small smile.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh? Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago. Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore. One year, and then back to my quiet retirement."

Quiet, yeah right. Although… Does Voldemort give the Death Eaters time off? I hastily shook the silly thought out of my head as Moody chuckled and went on.

"So, straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you counter-curses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

The class whipped to Lavender Brown, who'd been showing Parvati her horoscope under the desk. Moody's magical eye could see more than they expected. I only hoped it couldn't see how unsettled I was as I tried to clear my mind and focus on what was going to be taught, not on the creatures he was going to harm.

"So, do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands went into the air, mine not being one. I just need to focus. It's vital I know about these curses and how to handle them. I've only dealt with—I swallowed thickly as Ron answered his question, pushing away the memory and flinching when Moody opened his drawer and slammed a jar of spiders onto his desk. He reached in and pulled one out, casting the forbidden curse Imperio on it. My eyes wouldn't move away from the spider as it did flips and cartwheels and tap-danced.

Everyone in the class was laughing but myself and Moody.

"Think it's funny, do you?" He asked, eyes going sharp and silencing the laughter with his next words. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?" He then went on to explain the curse itself. "Total control. I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats."

Ron shuddered, hating spiders to begin with.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," Moody informed us. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. Constant vigilance!"

Everyone jumped with those last two words that he appeared to randomly shout, before tossing the spider back in the jar. I was still tense, body ramrod straight as he asked for another curse, and poor Neville answered. He mentioned the very curse that had been used on his parents by the very man now hidden as his professor. And they don't even know. None of them know he's hidden right here under their noses… I could give it away. I should give it away. He contributes so much though. His training gets Harry to survive under Voldemort's Imperius curse. He helps Harry get through the tasks for the tournament. He even dies by the end of it.

But he kills his father. He imprisoned Moody—the real Moody. He tries to kill Harry. He makes the cup take Harry to Voldemort. Without that happening, so much would change. So many others could die because Voldemort would have to change how he does things. I could get noticed. We could all be noticed.

The second spider was out of the jar now, sitting on the tabletop, too afraid to risk moving or fleeing. Moody had made it bigger and with a wave of his wand, the spider rolled onto its back and began to spasm. It didn't make a sound, unable to, but just the sight of it had my nails digging into my legs. Neville and I probably looked very similar at that moment, both ashen-faced and about ready to run from the room. For a brief second, I wondered if he could hear his parents' screams. If he remembered them from when he was only a bit older than a year. If they were as loud as my own screams ringing in my ears after I'd released a rare Leucrotta. And my father glared down at me with more hatred than imaginable, when I snapped the one time in my life and mentioned mother.

"Stop it!" Hermione screamed; her hand, I noticed then, was wrapped tightly on my upper arm as though she'd been trying to shake me out of it or hold me back from leaping over my desk to save the poor creature.

Moody stopped at her shout, shrinking the spider back down and putting it back in the jar even as its legs twitched.

"Pain," Moody explained simply to the rest of the class while I tried to calm my breathing, focusing on Hermione's hand on my arm to help. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse. That one was very popular once too. Right. Anyone know any others?"

No one lifted their hand this time until Hermione started to. My mouth moved before she got her hand high enough to see though, spitting out the words he wanted to hear, knowing at least the last spider would die without knowing what hit it. And Hermione wouldn't have to be the one to name the final curse.

"T-The killing curse."

Moody nodded, taking out the last spider and I grit my teeth as I forced myself to watch. It was quick, as I expected. A flare of green light and the spider rolled onto its back, dead.

"Not nice," Moody said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no counter-curse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

Eyes went to Harry, but Moody went on.

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it—you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it. Now, if there's no counter-curse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. Constant vigilance!"

I didn't jump this time.

"Now, those three curses—Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus—are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills, copy this down."

I wasn't sure how I managed to write notes for the rest of that class, hand shaking so violently I was sure my writing was illegible. What ended up bothering me the most though, were the other students discussing what happened afterward. They're kids, I had to remind myself. They don't understand.

"Nox?"

I jerked my hand away from Hermione's as though her touch burned, hating that I did, but I felt too sensitive right now; too overstimulated.

"Are you all right?"

I nodded, before pausing, realizing I hadn't done more than stand and put my things away while the others started to filter out.

"S-Sorry. Give me a second," I muttered to her, slipping out from the desk and forcing my unwilling legs to move up to Moody's desk. "Professor?"

Moody grunted, dropping the chalkboard eraser he'd been using to wipe away his notes and looking to me. I simply pointed to the jar with the remaining two living spiders.

"Can I have them?"

He frowned, confused, probably. "What for? One bite will kill ya, you know."

"I understand, but could I take them? The… The dead one too."

His magic eye landed on me briefly before spinning away and he shrugged, returning to his board. "Do what you want."

I nodded, pulling out a handkerchief from my pocket and wrapping up the dead spider before taking the jar with the other two. One cowered away as best it could; the other was still struggling to recover. Hermione gave me an uncertain look when I grabbed my things too, but I asked her for a moment alone and she agreed to tell the others I'd see them at dinner.

Once on my own, I headed for the grounds, opening the jar and letting the frightened spider free and doing my best to heal the other enough to run off as well. I then used my hands to dig a small hole and buried the dead spider, hating that this was all I could do for them. And that there was nothing to do but wait until Moody was caught because no one would believe the words of a child and it could potentially do more harm than good if I tried to stop it. But I have to do something… don't I?