Chapter Nine: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Hermione quietly crept out of the 4th Year Girls' Dorm, the early rays of light peeking through the windows, intent on avoiding Lavender and Parvati. If only long enough to have breakfast in peace. The Common Room was mercifully empty, the fire's crackling the only sound to be had. She plopped herself down on one of the cushier chairs in front of the fireplace and began pulling on her boots, hoping McGonagall would be at the staff table this early.

Plan in mind, Hermione swiftly exited through the portrait hole and made her way down to the Great Hall, letting her mind wander. She sighed when her mind chose to wander towards the conversation she'd had with Cedric at World Cup weeks earlier. It was true that she had more or less given up on the possibility of finding her birth parents, but it didn't stop her from wondering who they were, where they were, or even if they still were. Macabre as it may seem, she'd like to think she had ended up in the orphanage because her parents' had passed; at least that meant they'd had no say in the matter, it meant that she hadn't been abandoned.

Maybe there was a way to find out who they were without actually having to find them. A potion maybe, or a spell. She gave a quiet, annoyed sigh at the fact that she seemed not to know her own mind in this case. Maybe she was better off not knowing... what good could of it? It wouldn't change anything. Besides, if she did go down this path, where would she even begin? The library? Should she just rifle through the tens of thousands of tomes on family history? Where would it end? It wasn't a rabbit hole she particularly wanted to spiral down.

Just as her feet touched the bottom of the first-floor landing, a voice called out from behind her and she turned to find Cedric climbing up from the basements. She shook off the remnants of her previous musings and managed a smile.

"Morning," she smiled.

"Good morning," said Cedric, with a smile, falling into step beside her. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Habit," she replied automatically. Apparently, it was too quick of an answer because Cedric levelled her with a dubious look and she looked away, "And I needed a break from Lavender and Parvati," she amended grudgingly.

"Why?" he asked curiously.

"Because they kept me up 'til one last night asking me about you," Hermione replied, nudging him lightly with her elbow as they walked toward the Great Hall, "and I'd like to avoid a repeat performance this morning if I can."

Cedric ducked his head in embarrassment and Hermione smirked slightly.

"Oh, god," he moaned.

"You know, you have quite the fan base, almost as impressive as Harry's actually. I mean, those girls talk about you like you're a Greek god or something," she teased him.

"Hermione..." Cedric said plaintively as they walked into the Great Hall.

Hermione chuckled, lightly throwing her hands up in surrender, "Alright, alright, I'm done for now, I promise."

Cedric couldn't help but smile as well, putting an arm around her shoulders and drawing her close as they passed the staff table, "Thank you. But don't think I missed the 'for now' bit."

She snickered quietly.

The Hall was almost empty. Only a handful of older students were helping themselves to breakfast along with a few teachers, including McGonagall and Dumbledore. Moody had situated himself at the far end of the staff table and, Hermione noted, was sniffing and poking at his food suspiciously.

"Come have breakfast with me?" Cedric asked, tugging imploringly at her hand. "At least until your boys come down."

"Sure," she replied easily, "and they're not my boys."

Cedric laughed in disbelief and led her over to the Hufflepuff table where they sat side-by-side in the dreary morning light. "The way they follow you about, you could've fooled me."

Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes slightly as she reached for a slice of toast.

Up at the staff table, two professors took in the spectacle (and a spectacle it was) with a measure of surprise. In the years after Voldemort's demise, Minerva had seldom seen students stray outside of their own house's social circle so easily. The extent of inter-house unity that she usually witnessed consisted of a few passing words to each other in the halls and in classes.

People tended to attribute this to the fact that all four houses' prevailing character traits were too much at odds with the others for their members to form any lasting friendships. Utter hogwash in Minerva's opinion. Why, she herself had been a Gryffindor, yet her best friend to this day, Filius, had been a Ravenclaw! Nobody liked to admit it, but the state of school unity was more likely grown out of the paranoia and distrust that was borne during Voldemort's first reign. Students kept to the people they knew and trusted for fear of betrayal.

Regardless, one need only look to the pair sitting at the Hufflepuff table for proof otherwise. They appeared to be utterly at ease with each other, talking and occasionally laughing quietly as they munched on muffins and toast. Minerva wasn't even aware Miss Granger knew Mr. Diggory; they were two years apart, weren't they? Now that she thought of it, they had arrived at the feast together last night. She had been rather preoccupied with the Weasley twins and hadn't thought much of it at the time. Well, she mused as she watched Hermione laugh at something Cedric said, I certainly won't be saying anything against it. It's high time Miss Granger got some space from those two boys of hers.

Dumbledore's voice broke through her train of thought.

"I didn't realize Miss Granger and Mr. Diggory were acquainted," he said pensively, watching the pair curiously.

"No, nor I," she replied, getting to her feet. She was impeded by a hand on her arm.

"Let them be, Minerva," Dumbledore said, friendly but firm. "It is hardly against the rules to sit at another table."

Minvera rolled her eyes slightly at him. Honestly, the man could be so presumptuous sometimes.

"I am merely going to give Miss Granger her schedule, Albus," she said reprovingly, her brogue suddenly thicker than usual as she waved the piece of parchment in front of him, "Unless, of course, you have any objections!"

"Oh! Well -" Dumbledore sputtered in surprise.

Minerva turned away with an impatient tsk as she made her way down to the Hufflepuff table.

"You can't tell me you actually enjoy the class though!" Cedric exclaimed.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Cedric shot her a knowing look and she rolled her eyes in defeat.

"Alright, no I don't," she admitted with a wry smile, "but he's our friend and we can't hurt his feelings by dropping the class. And the classes aren't bad, just a bit - hands-on," she finished with a grimace.

Cedric shook his head, smiling.

"Well, however you spin it," his choice of words earned him a glare that he promptly ignored, "you three are risking limb and life in the name of friendship. That is loyalty, my dear."

He lifted his cup of coffee in mock salute. Hermione's glare melted and she chuckled, shaking her head ruefully.

McGonagall smiled at the pair's conversation as she waited for them to take notice of her presence. She cleared her throat subtlety and they both turned her way.

"Oh! Good morning, professor," Hermione greeted.

"Professor," Cedric nodded politely.

"Good morning," McGonagall smiled amusedly, "Miss Granger, I thought I'd give you your schedule before the morning rush."

Hermione accepted the parchment with a smile.

"Thank you."

McGonagall gave one last smile and returned to the staff table.

"Let's see then," Cedric said lightly, holding his hand out.

Hermione took the last few steps down the staircase in a skip. She spotted Ron and Harry in the crowd heading into the Great Hall for dinner and could discern their foul moods even from afar.

"Lots of homework?" said Hermione, catching up with them.

"Loads," said Ron moodily.

She pulled a sympathetic face as they filed their way into the packed Dining Hall. They all craned their necks every which way, intent on finding seats.

"Ooh, there!" Hermione pointed to the open space next to Angelina and the twins.

They settled in, Ron rummaging through his school bag before smacking a piece of parchment and a quill down in front of him resentfully. Hermione took a deep breath and swallowed her irritation. Her good mood from earlier was quickly evaporating.

Her gaze wandered around the Dining Hall, hoping Ginny was near. As much as Ginny annoyed her with her incessant boy talk sometimes, Hermione couldn't help but feel more cheerful around the girl. Instead of Ginny's redhead, however, she found Cedric's eyes as he moved down the rows towards them, an easy smile on his lips as he waved. Hermione felt her mood lighten again as she returned his smile.

"Hello! Good day?" he asked them as he squeezed himself between Hermione and Harry, the latter nodding at him in greeting.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Diggory," Ron bit out nastily, head still mostly in his parchment.

Hermione felt something twist in her chest painfully. Not quite grief, but not anger either. Betrayal, perhaps? Inexplicable tears formed in her eyes momentarily but she blinked them away, setting her jaw stubbornly.

"Don't worry, Ron, we're not staying. We'll just leave you to sulk, shall we?" Hermione said as lightly as she could, nudging Cedric subtly.

Hermione turned to Harry with a quiet, "I'll see you later."

Cedric echoed the sentiment, grabbing his school bag and falling in step with Hermione as they made their way to the Hufflepuff table.

Harry watched them go with a measure of guilt, levelling Ron with a penetrating glare until the other boy finally looked up.

"What!" he asked defensively. Harry remained silent, unrelenting. Eventually, Ron sighed, running his hands down his face roughly, "Ack! I know, I know, alright! There's just something 'bout him that just...Ack!"

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron's inability to explain his apparent hatred for Cedric. "Well, whatever it is, figure it out. 'Cos I don't think he's going anywhere," he informed him pointedly.

Ron groaned, "How mad was she?" he asked, voice muffled slightly by the parchment he'd face-planted on.

"Raging hippogriffs I'd say."

Another muffled groan was all he received in response.

A heavy silence enveloped the trio as they made their way to Moody's classroom the next day. Hermione had avoided nearly all conversation with both Harry and Ron during breakfast, Ron constantly looking on the verge of apologizing before the thought seemed to fizzle out entirely. Harry, meanwhile, had spent breakfast alternating between trying to engage Hermione in conversation and not so subtly prompting Ron towards an apology, silently jerking his head towards Hermione every so often.

Now, they filed into the classroom, surprised to find most of their classmates already seated and eagerly waiting. Silence fell over the room as the bell rang. Hermione could practically hear people holding their breath as the sound of Moody's uneven gait getting ever closer.

"Put those books away, you won't need 'em," he grunted, making his way to the front of the classroom, "You'll find I have a more practical approach when it comes to teaching."

Mad-Eye stood at the head of the class, eyes roving over all their faces, apparently gauging something none of them were privy to. Until at length, he growled, "Right," he growled as he sat down, "I've spoken to Dumbledore about this class and you're behind, very behind, on dealing with curses. I've spent my entire career gettin' into Dark Wizards' minds, thinking like 'em, which is why Dumbledore's tasked me with preparing you for the worst."

He sat down heavily at his desk, pulling the register to him, and began calling out names. When he finished, his magical eye rested on the three Gryffindors sitting closest to him.

"Potter, Granger, Weasley!"

Ron jumped at the sound of his name and automatically replied with a nervous, "Yes?"

Moody's growl seemed to take on a laugh-like impression, "Dumbledore tells me that you three have a – predisposition – shall we call it for dangerous situations." Moody regarded them closely, eyes lingering on Harry's scar, while Hermione silently bristled, more than a little peeved at Dumbledore's description.

"The Unforgivable Curses." Moody continued, attention still on the group of three, "Weasley, what do you know about 'em?"

"Erm – well, they're illegal. Any witch or wizard that uses one –"

"Earns themselves a one-way ticket to Azkaban," Moody interjected, moving towards the blackboard and freeing them from his gaze at last. "Now, according to the Ministry, 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 your sixth year. I say different and so does Dumbledore. We reckon you can cope. You need to be ready. You need to be alert. You need to put that away, Mr. Thomas, when I am speaking."

Everyone looked around as Dean jumped, shocked at being caught. He had been showing Seamus what looked like a small, moving figure of a leprechaun tossing tiny bits of gold into the air under the desk. Evidently, Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood. Hermione caught Harry's eye and knew they were wondering the same thing: what else it could see through?

"Perhaps you can name one of the curses, Thomas."

Dean shook his head, shame-faced and slightly afraid.

Moody grunted. "Weasley?"

"Well, I've heard of one. The Imperius Curse?" Ron swallowed a little nervously.

"Aye, very popular in the days of You-Know-Who's reign. Gave the Ministry all sorts of trouble. Let me show you why."

Moody opened a desk drawer and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were frantically pacing around inside it. Hermione felt Ron recoil slightly next to her.

Moody caught one of the spiders in a gentle grasp and held it in the palm of his hand so all could see. With a muttered, Imperio! the spider was under Moody's control completely.

Everyone but Hermione and Neville laughed the spider's predicament. Hermione knew what the curse was, how terrible it could be in the wrong hands.

"You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"Moody asked, laughing almost manically.

The laughter died away almost instantly.

"Total control," Moody whispered almost admiringly. "More than a few witches and wizards claimed that they only did You-Know-Who's bidding because they were taken over – controlled – using the Imperius. Helluva job for the Ministry, trying to sort out the liars, eh?"

"The Imperius Curse can be overcome, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of mind and character, and not everyone's got it. Best avoid being hit with it at all. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, and everyone jumped.

Hermione briskly walked out of the room at the end of class. They'd spent the rest of the lesson watching the Unforgivables performed on spider after spider, the last one meeting its untimely demise rather horribly.

Hermione watched Harry in concern. This couldn't be easy for him. He had just witnessed how his parents had died for god's sake. The three of them knew many of the details surrounding his parents' deaths, but to have a physical example of how they died...

Most people around them were discussing the curses in awed voices — "Did you see it twitch?" "— and when he killed it — just like that!"

They were talking about the lesson, Hermione thought, as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, but she hadn't found it very entertaining — and nor, it seemed, had Harry and Neville.

"Hurry up," she said tensely to Harry and Ron.

"Off to see Diggory again are you?" Ron goaded, earning himself an elbow to the ribs from Harry, though the question was at least missing some of its usual venom.

"No," said Hermione curtly, nodding up toward a side passage. "Neville."

Neville was standing alone further down the passageway, staring out the window with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse during class.

"Neville?" Hermione said gently.

An odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All four of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, Hermione placing a hand on Neville's arm defensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much gentler growl than they had heard from him.

"It's all right, son," he said to Neville. "Come up to my office. Come on, cup of tea and a chat, eh?"

Neville's fear at the prospect of tea with Moody was evident. He stayed rooted to his spot in front of the window, shooting the three others a pleading glance. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry.

"You all right then, Potter?"

"Yes," Harry replied defiantly.

"It may seem harsh, but you've got to know. No point hiding the truth. Come along, Longbottom. I hear from Professor Sprout that you're good with Herbology. I've got some books that might interest you."

Neville shot Harry, Ron, and Hermione one last pleading look as Moody steered back up the way they'd come.

"What do you reckon that was about?" said Ron, watching Neville and Moody disappear around the corner.

Hermione shrugged, looking pensive.

"Some lesson, though, eh?" said Ron to Harry as they set off for the Great Hall. "He really knows his stuff, doesn't he? When he cast Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, snuffed it right —"

But Ron fell suddenly silent at the look on Harry's face and didn't speak again until they entered the Great Hall after Transfiguration, lamenting their pending Divination homework.

Hermione heaved a silent sigh of relief when Cedric met them just outside the Hall with the suggestion of having dinner with him at the Hufflepuff table. She waved her goodbyes to Harry and Ron and left them to their own devices, glad to have someone else to talk to rather than suffer through their awkward this once.

Hermione and Cedric slipped into two seats, side by side. Cedric was silent beside her, both of them poking at their Shepard's Pie absently, oblivious to the curious, rather prying stares they were receiving.

She quietly pondered the reason behind Neville's reaction to witnessing the Cruciatus Curse. Her mind then turned to Harry, and the haunted gaze he'd been sporting since class. And, suddenly, her treacherous mind turned to her own parents, whoever they had been. Were they still alive, or had they suffered a similar fate to Harry's? Dead at the hands of some faceless murderer, or was something as mundane as a car accident? She fought against the sigh that was threatening to explode from her chest at the thought.

"So, how was your lesson with Moody this afternoon?" Cedric suddenly asked, trying and failing to sound casual.

"It was...interesting, to say the least. He demonstrated the Unforgivable Curses," she said.

Cedric looked startled.

"What? All of them? But you're - you're -" he sputtered.

"Fine." Hermione finished the sentence for him. "We're fine, Cedric. Neville and Harry were a bit shaken, but then, you can hardly blame them. And it's not as though he demonstrated them on us –" Cedric looked appeased, "yet."

Cedric whipped around and looked at her in horror.

"Well, he mentioned something about teaching us how to throw off the Imperius, and I assume that would entail being placed under the curse itself..." She explained, ignoring Cedric's soundless sputtering. "Anyhow, judging by your less than enthusiastic mood, your class with Moody was about as fun as ours. How was it?"

"Same as yours actually," Cedric said, pulling a face. "Bloody unpleasant watching those spiders being tortured and killed. Not to mention being Impero'd. He made it drown itself!"

Hermione grimaced.

"I'll admit I agree we should learn about the Unforgivables, but its a bit unsettling to hear everyone talking about the whole thing like it was some amazing show or something. I mean, you should have seen the look on Neville's face when Moody demonstrated the Cruciatus..." Hermione said quietly with a shake of her head.

"Bad?"

"Horrified, I think is the word. And then I thought..." She let the thought die on her lips.

"What?" Cedric looked at her curiously.

"It just got me thinking – Neville never talks about his parents. In the three years we've known him he's never mentioned them once. And – well, he was raised by his grandmother, wasn't he?" She said earnestly, frowning sadly before shrugging. "I just couldn't help notice he had that same sad look in his eyes that Harry gets whenever someone mentions his parents."

"How is Harry dealing?" Cedric asked in concern. He found he quite liked the Gryffindor Seeker, if only because he was as unaffected and guileless as his best female friend. It made for an easy friendship and comfortable conversations.

"Only marginally better than Neville. He hasn't said much since class. It doesn't help that Ron's an insensitive prat."

Cedric groaned, already imagining the worst, "What'd he say?"

"He started going on about how impressive the Killing Curse had been, how the spider had just, and I quote, 'snuffed it'" Cedric groaned again and Hermione shook her head, "Anyhow, Ron must've noticed he'd said something wrong because he's been mercifully silent since class."

"Mm, small miracles," Cedric sighed.

"Yes, if only they'd last," she intoned flatly, making him chuckle.

They finished their dinner soon after, their appetites nearly non-existent after what they'd witnessed.

"Have you got any homework?" Cedric asked as they gathered their bags.

"Yeah, mostly just reading assignments. You?"

"Snape's assigned us seven feet on everything we can find on Draught of Living Death. He's been in a right foul mood," he grimaced.

"Three guesses why."

"Moody?" She cocked an eyebrow in confirmation and he sighed in resignation before turning to her with a hopeful smile. "So, library?"

"Absolutely," she said with a soft smile. Cedric's arm went to its now usual place around her shoulders to pull her close and she leaned into his side.

It was nigh on eleven by the time Hermione climbed through the portrait hole of Gryffindor Tower. She was unsurprised to find Harry and Ron still up, scribbling furiously on the parchment laying in front of them.

"Hello," she said, sitting in one of the chairs beside them, "Divination homework?"

"Yeah, nowhere near done," Harry said dully.

"Oh, don't look so miserable," Hermione said lightly, "Cedric says Snape was in a foul mood today and assigned them seven feet on Draught of Living Death."

Harry's eyes widened.

"Bloody hell! Seven feet? I don't envy him that."

"Yeah, gonna have to be careful about ruining his good looks with all those late nights," Ron said scathingly.

Hermione inclined her head almost sarcastically, obviously expecting the barbed comment.

Harry glared over at Ron, giving him a swift kick in the shin to go with it.

"Oi!" Ron resentfully rubbed at his shin.

Hermione had to keep her eyebrows from shooting up passed her hairline in shock. She had thought Harry would have sided with Ron over this ridiculous vendetta he seemed to have against Cedric.

"Well, don't worry yourself too much, Ron. He's already finished it," she shot back easily, folding herself more comfortably into the chair.

There was a pause in which Harry sat, torn between admiration at Hermione's attitude, and exasperation at Ron's.

The silence was broken by a soft tap, tap on the window. They looked across the empty common room and saw Hedwig perched on the windowsill.

Harry launched himself out of his chair to unlatch the window.

Hedwig flew inside, landing atop Harry's unfinished predictions.

"She's got an answer!" said Ron excitedly.

"About time!" said Harry.

He hastily untied the note from her foot, Hedwig fluttering onto his knee, hooting softly.

"Well? What does it say?" Hermione asked, holding her breath.

It was very short, looking as though it had been scribbled down in a great hurry. Harry read it aloud:

Harry —

I'm flying north today. The news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange occurrences that I've been hearing about lately. It can't be a coincidence. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore — I've heard he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.

I'll be in touch again soon. My best to Ron and Hermione.

Sirius

Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione, who stared back at him.

"A series of strange occurrences?" Hermione whispered, curiously.

Harry just smacked himself in the forehead in frustration.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked in alarm.

"I shouldn't've told him!" Harry said furiously. "He thinks he's got to come back because I'm in trouble, and I'm not! He's gonna get himself caught or killed for nothing!"

"Harry –" Hermione started

"I'm going to bed," said Harry shortly.

Hermione shook her head in resignation plopped down on the sofa with a sigh. She heard Ron mumble something about giving Harry a couple minutes to cool off before he, too, packed up his books and parchment. And then Hermione was left sitting alone in the common room, staring contemplatively into the fire.

"Oh, right."

That was all Hermione said over breakfast the next morning when Harry told her and Ron about the letter he'd sent to Sirius early that morning. It was still early and the Hall was mostly empty, giving Harry the only opportunity to speak to them both about it. Harry narrowed his eyes, evidently not pleased with her response.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He said, his voice carrying a dual-edge of defensiveness and fear that surprised Hermione.

"It means - well, it doesn't mean anything actually," Hermione replied in confusion.

"You mean I shouldn't have lied to him, don't you? Why don't you just come out and say it!" He suddenly exploded, capturing the attention of the few students nearby.

"I didn't say that!" She fired back defensively, beginning to lose patience with the conversation.

"You didn't have to!" He fairly shouted at her, and they lapsed into silence, Hermione regarding him with an expression of hurt and confusion that stabbed at Harry's conscience viciously.

This was the scene that Cedric was greeted with when he arrived at the table less than a minute later. He took in the hurt expression on Hermione's face and his eyes immediately sought out the most likely cause, Ron. Except Ron was staring at Harry, apparently dumbstruck, and Cedric took in Harry's guilty expression with a jolt of surprise.

"What's happened?" he inquired, startling Hermione slightly.

She looked up at him and smiled tightly, though she was sure Cedric saw through it.

"Nothing," she replied softly, taking her bag off the space beside her so he could sit down.

He sat, but continued to watch her in concern, to which she only shook her head slightly. He nodded minutely and began loading his plate with eggs and sausage and sat a bit closer to her than usual.

Hermione smiled slightly before her eyes landed on Ron's now abandoned homework.

"Is this the Divination homework from last night?" She pulled Ron's predictions toward her. "Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically as Cedric read over her shoulder, looking highly amused.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron said around a mouthful of sausage.

"You seem to be falling to your death twice," Hermione pointed out, and Cedric chuckled quietly.

"Oh, am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to drowning – no, near drowning."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, so abruptly that Ron nearly ruined his Divination homework. "I don't know why I said that. You didn't deserve it."

Hermione's eyes softened.

"It's alright, Harry. And, you know, I wasn't thinking that. I think it was a good idea. It probably won't work, but it's worth a shot."

Harry grimaced, knowing she was right, then all was right once more as Harry struck up a conversation with Cedric while Hermione looked over Ron's revisions.

They did their best not to worry about Sirius over the next couple of weeks. Luckily, their lessons were becoming more difficult and demanding than ever before, keeping them plenty occupied; particularly Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts.

To the surprise of everybody but Hermione, Professor Moody announced one day that he would be placing each of them under the Imperius Curse to demonstrate its power, and see whether they could resist its effects.

"Granger!" His eyes swivelled to Hermione, who simply stared back, nonplussed, "Every other student in this classroom at least twitched at what I'm about to do. Why didn't you?"

"You said you would be teaching us to fight off the Imperius Curse," she replied, unperturbed, "and theoretical knowledge would hardly be effective, so I assumed -"

"That I'd have to put you under the Imperius in order to teach you," he growled, his mouth twisting into a rare smile more akin to a grimace as he considered her. "You have an exceptionally sharp mind, Granger, you should consider becoming an Auror."

Hermione nodded in thanks but otherwise showed no reaction. She wasn't sure what to make of Moody, but there was something off-putting about him, something in his eyes - well, eye. His gaze wasn't considering so much as calculating. Even as he praised her, he seemed to be deliberating on something else. Until she could figure out what that something else was, she was quite content to keep her guard up around him.

"Weasley, you first."

Hermione watched as, one by one, her classmates did the most extraordinary things under the curse's influence. Ron hopscotched around the room singing God Save the Queen. Lavender imitated a cat. Neville walked about on his hands, something he certainly wouldn't have been capable of doing in his normal state. None of them seemed able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered themselves only when Moody had removed it.

"Granger," Moody growled, "you next."

Hermione moved into the middle of the classroom. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Hermione.

It was conversely the most wonderful and disturbing feeling she had ever experienced. She felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in her mind was wiped gently away. Her mind was mercifully silent for the forst time on her life. Yet, the rational part of her mind tugged at her consciousness, telling her this was wrong. She stood there trying to reconcile the two feelings, only dimly aware of everyone watching her.

And then she heard Mad-Eye Moody's voice echoing in her mind, sounding as gnarled and menacing as his appearance: Cartwheel...Cartwheel...

Hermione's muscles tensed but did not move.

Cartwheel...

Why the hell would I do that? The voice in her mind asked, rather put out by the suggestion.

Ridiculous thing to do, said the voice. Especially in this skirt.

Cartwheel...

I don't think so, thank you very much, said the other voice, more firmly... nope, not happening...

NOW!

The next thing Hermione felt was considerable pain. Her tense muscles suddenly slackened and she fell sideways into a desk, only barely having the presence of mind to brace herself before she fell to the floor entirely.

"Now, that's more like it!" growled Moody's voice. "Only student apart from Diggory to have beat it so far! Two years his junior, too! Very good, Granger! We'll try that again in a minute. Potter, you next!"

Hermione walked back to her seat, surprised to find that she was breathing rather heavily. Everyone's eyes were on her, regarding her as though she were something alien.

"Hey, you alright? That looked like it hurt," Ron said, eyeing her with concern.

Hermione nodded a little shakily, "Yeah, I'm fine, just a bit sore, don't worry."

Ron smiled reassuringly, and in that moment, Hermione suddenly felt a torrent of gratitude towards her sometimes volatile friend, relieved to find that no matter what was said between them, Ron would always be there for her.

The whole class watched in amazement as Harry proceeded to fight Moody's Imperius. He didn't fare quite as well as Hermione, his knees bending, as if preparing to jump but stopping himself from doing anything further. Suddenly, he went smashing headlong into the desk Hermione had fallen against and knocked it clean over.

"And so we have a third!" Moody growled in triumph, a strange cackling laugh escaping him as Harry rubbed his sore head gingerly, "That was very good, Potter, you nearly beat it! Now, Granger, try it again, you too Potter and the rest of you, pay attention — watch their eyes, that's where you see it."

"Excellent, Granger, excellent! They'll have a hell of a time controlling you!" Moody exclaimed after she threw off his fourth straight attempt in five seconds flat.

"The way he talks," Harry muttered as he hobbled out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class an hour later, "you'd think we'll be attacked any second."

"Yeah, tell me about it," said Ron, who was hopscotching down the steps. He had had much more trouble with the curse than Harry and Hermione, though Moody assured him the effects should wear off by dinner. "Talk about paranoid..."

"Come on, let's just get to Transfiguration," Hermione grimaced, fighting to keep her sore legs from giving out on the stairs.