The Power Within

by Lupins Lair

Voldemort discovers the existence of an artefact which could give him the ultimate power and control which he desires. Set in Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts, there is the arrival of a new face, plus the return of some old friends. DISCONTINUED. Sorry

2. Chapter One

Author's Notes: Thanks to Moey for beta-reading this, giving me her comments and suggestions.

Usual Disclaimer: Thanks to J. K. Rowling for giving us this world to live in in the first place. It is all hers, I just feed off her dreams…..

The Power Within

Chapter 1

Utter pandemonium broke out from a cosy-looking, rather precariously constructed, house, which consisted of extensions reaching outwards and upwards in all directions, and a yard shared by several chickens and a lot of miscellaneous clutter. Shouts and laughter sounded from within, punctuated with the occasional explosion followed by an angry roar. Loud thuds and bangs shook the walls so violently that the house appeared threateningly close to toppling over entirely.

"Has anyone seen my red socks?"

"Have you tried looking in the laundry basket?"

"They are not there."

"Harry, is this your Sneakoscope?"

CRASH!

"Owww!"

"What was THAT?!"

"Me. And a broomstick."

"George, how many times have I told you not to leave things lying at the top of the stairs?"

"Sorry! Ginny, are you okay?"

"Yeah. BILL! Your fang earring is down here!"

"Where ARE my socks?"

"My earring? Yes! I've been looking for it all over!"

"It fell into the letter basket."

"Has anyone seen Crookshanks' cat snacks?"

"Found red socks!"

"Where?"

"Pig is eating them!"

"The socks?"

"No! The cat food!"

"Argh! Take it away! It'll make him sick!"

"What about the socks?"

"Under Fred's bed! Oops, sorry! There's only one!"

"Who was it that had the Sneakoscope?"

"Will you all please be quiet-ER?? I am trying to finish the last of my cauldron reports!"

SLAM!

"Who cares about cauldron bottoms, Weatherby."

"Hermione! Your cat food!"

"And here are some more cat snacks that were with Hedwig's owl pellets."

FIZZ!!! WHAM!!! BANG!!!

"Fred! George! How many times?? Accio Fizzler Cracklers!"

"Mu-um!"

"No, Fred. I'm not listening. Charlie! Owl for you! Looks like your papers for Romania."

"Thanks mum!"

"I found the other sock!"

An hour later, the mayhem calmed down somewhat. Ron had packed his red socks, Harry his Sneakoscope. Crookshanks was munching on Pig's leftovers as the twins sulkily gave up the last of their Fizzler Cracklers. Percy had Disapparated to the office with parchment in hand, scowling irritably.

Everyone had gathered round the kitchen table ready for breakfast when Arthur Weasley Apparated in the kitchen with a faint "pop!" Evidently, he had spent an early morning at the office. Accepting the plate of eggs, bacon, and sausages from his wife gratefully, he grinned round at the crowd and asked, "So, you are all ready I hope?"

"Just about," said Mrs Weasley grimly, thinking back to the bedlam of just an hour ago. It was amazing how things still go haywire despite having most of the packing and sorting done the night before.

Harry sighed contentedly as he looked around the Weasley kitchen. He loved The Burrow. He loved the way it always threatened to topple over at any moment. He loved the unruly way its extensions spread. He loved the mixture of magic and non-magic within the household. He loved how it was so cosy and welcoming, and so "lived-in". Above all, he loved the atmosphere, the sense of a family - the warmth, the laughter, the fun, the love. He even liked Mrs. Weasley's scoldings and Percy's disdainful reprimands. It gave him a wonderful sense of belonging. And he was eternally grateful to be able to share in that. It was a wonderful change to his empty, humdrum Muggle life at Privet Drive where he would be shoved up in his bedroom and basically ignored.

It had been a couple of weeks since he had gotten Ron's owl telling him Dumbledore had allowed the Weasley family to invite Harry to their home. Hermione had been invited as well, and the past week and a half at The Burrow had easily been the best time he'd had in ages, since before the end of last term. His face clouded over as his thoughts drifted to that night of June 24^th. The third task of the Triwizard Tournament. The Maze. The Goblet. The Portkey. The graveyard. Cedric.

Harry had been haunted by images of Cedric, and of the rebirth of Voldemort, ever since that day. Those thoughts and visions had been plaguing him night after night since the battle in the graveyard. Since witnessing the rebirth of the Dark Lord. Since Cedric's death. It had been dreadful staying in Privet Drive, not being able to do anything when he knew Voldemort's power was increasing day by day. It had been frustrating to know that Dumbledore was gathering his most faithful supporters and trying to devise a strategy and he was stuck with a Muggle family which not only didn't know about the wizarding world, but didn't want to know. And it had been difficult trying to act normal in front of the Dursleys, as if he didn't harbour any fear or trepidation, as if there wasn't a powerful dark wizard going thirstily after his life. It wasn't as if he would be voicing out loud much about his worries and fears even in front of Ron and Hermione, but at least they knew, and would understand, and he sought comfort with them just being there.

"But at least," he thought grimly, "the scar hadn't hurt for the entire summer."

An indignant cry interrupted his thoughts and he laughed as he saw Bill being pummelled by Ron from across the table.

"Give me back my bacon!"

"Finder's keepers," replied Bill as speared up the rasher.

Snatching the fork away from his big brother, Ron muttered, "You didn't find it. You magicked it over to you when I wasn't looking!"

Bill just grinned as he casually reached over to the side-board to pick up a spare fork and continue his breakfast. Looking at him, one would never have imagined Bill having been a Head Boy at Hogwarts. He was the image of anything but. The fang earring was just one of many unorthodox things which included a long mane, punk clothing and dragon-hide boots. Harry had a suspicious feeling that Bill more than likely joined in the fun rather than deducting house points when he caught pranksters in the act.

This was another reason why Harry loved life at The Burrow. It was much too lively and cheerful to leave much room for pondering over his darker thoughts. What with the jokes, teasing, gossip, and Quidditch, there wasn't enough time to be brooding.

Quidditch. His favourite hobby. Harry had missed it terribly during his stay with the Dursleys. If Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia balked at the mention of even the word "owl", they surely would have gone ballistic had Harry even so far as ventured near his Firebolt. Still, he had more than made up for it during his time at The Burrow. There were some days when they spent more hours up in the air than on the ground. Ron had been extremely keen as he desperately wished to be selected for the position of Keeper on the Gryffindor house team, now that Oliver Wood had left. The twins and Harry of course, needed no persuasion to join him, nor did Ginny. Even Hermione had taken part in some of the matches. And with the likes of Bill and Charlie added to the mix, the games had been more than exciting. Charlie had also given a plethora of Seeker tips for Harry, while Bill drilled Ron's saving skills by mercilessly hurling Quaffles at the hoops which Ron was guarding.

After breakfast, Mr. Weasley hustled the lot of them out to the car awaiting them outside, which he had borrowed from the Ministry of Magic for the morning. Bill and Charlie magicked the six trunks, six broomsticks, two owls in their cages and one cat into the boot of the car while Mrs. Weasley, the twins, Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron squeezed into the front and back seats. Harry was again amazed at how spacious it was once inside.

"It must be enchanted to make it seem bigger," whispered Hermione to him.

They had all travelled inside a Ministry car before, and after racing along the country roads, artfully dodging obstacles along the way, narrowly escaping a couple of maniac drivers, squeezing into several narrow alley-ways, and leaping over a two mile queue of London rush hour traffic, the lot arrived at King's Cross in a ridiculously short amount of time.

"Okay kids," said Mrs Weasley. "You know what to do."

The gang nodded.

"You go first," she nodded at the twins. "Then Harry and Ron. And I will follow with Hermione and Ginny."

"And don't…"

The twins disappeared into the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10 at break-neck speed.

"….. charge," she finished with a sigh.

When Harry and Ron appeared on Platform 9 ¾, the twins were still sprawled out in a heap with their trunks and broomsticks higgledy-piggledy beside them. Harry and Ron had barely helped them to their feet when the girls showed up with Mrs Weasley.

"What am I ever going to do with the two of you?" she said to the identical redheads, shaking her head. But Harry could see a faint smile on her lips.

"Nothing."

"We are here to inject your life with fun and excitement."

"And you know you like it and you wouldn't want it any other way."

Their mum shook her head. Impossible, those two, just impossible. But they were right……

Lee Jordan appeared at that moment and the twins went off with him, waving a cheery goodbye.

Mrs Weasley turned back to the rest.

"You'll take care now, won't you? Don't get into trouble and please be careful! No rule-breaking, no running around the Forbidden Forest after dark, no…."

"Mu-um! You've been through all this before!"

Molly sighed. "I know, I know. It's just…. I worry for you. All of you." She paused, "It's part and parcel of being a mum. It is mandatory to give these speeches."

They laughed.

"Don't worry Mrs. Weasley. Ginny will take care of herself just fine. And," Hermione said, winking at Harry and Ron, "I'll make sure Ron and Harry are taken care of."

Ron made a face. Mrs Weasley laughed.

"Thanks, Hermione. I am sure you will be making the boys toe the line," she said, returning Hermione's wink.

"Hey, as if!" cried Ron indignantly. "Who was it that saved you from that troll in first year?"

"Well, you locked it in with me in the girls' loo in the first place!"

"Pah!"

Harry smiled at Ron's being stumped, once again, by Hermione. He was about to hurry the others along so as to get good seats on the train when a familiar voice caught his ears.

"Well, Crabbe. I have to admit that I am surprised, once more, by that ever-open minded, soft-hearted dishrag of a headmaster. Albus Dumbledore has often proved himself to be a charitable simpleton."

Harry bristled with anger. Dumbledore was not a simpleton. He is the greatest wizard that ever lived! Harry recognised the voice well. He had heard it a few times before, and also one very similar in that of his son's. It was the unmistakably cold, hard, smooth voice of Lucius Malfoy.

"It is bad enough he invites creatures of all sorts into the school, werewolves and Mudbloods among others. But to take on a foreign student midway through the academic training, from some barbaric Eastern European country? Really! Where is his sense of pride?"

"Foreign student?" wondered Harry. "Who?"

However, he was interrupted at that point by Ron whisking him off onto the Hogwarts Express. Joined by Hermione, they searched the train for an empty carriage in which to spend their journey. As the rest of their friends dropped by and everyone exchanged details of their summers, Harry forgot the conversation he'd overheard, eagerly joining in the talk. Lavender had spent a month by the sea with Parvati and Padma Patil, Seamus Finnegan went to Canada with his folks, and Neville surprised everyone by returning quite tanned from a summer in France with his grandmother.

"Wow Ne-ville! Never knew you could tan so well!" teased Seamus, as Neville blushed furiously under his hazel cheeks.

"So," challenged Hermione slyly. "As-tu passé de bon temps a la belle France cet ete?"

Ron stared at Hermione and then at Harry, mouthing, "What the….? French?!"

"She has been to France, you know," replied Harry matter-of-factly. "Besides, she is Hermione." As if that explained everything.

Ron just shook his head, but Neville, for his part, grinned at Hermione and answered airily, "Mais oui. J'ai passé des vacances fantastiques a la Cote D'Azur. Il y avait plein de soliel. Le mer si bleu, les villes pitoresques, personnes amicables. Vraiment super."

Ron's jaw fell open. Seamus and Harry stared. Hermione looked positively stumped. She hadn't really thought of what to expect, but even so, whatever it would have been, it clearly was not this.

Neville looked round the carriage and burst out laughing. "Surprised you lot, eh?"

"Y-y-yeah!" exclaimed Harry, recovering first. "Where did you learn that?!"

"Like it? It is easy enough to pick up if you hear it day in, day out for two and a half months. Shame there isn't a French class for the O.W.L.s. It would be so much better than Potions," he finished off ruefully.

"Potions doesn't count. Snape would be happy to fail anyone who isn't a Slytherin if Dumbledore allowed it."

Dean Thomas bounded into the carriage at that moment and chatted happily about his Muggle summer, which Harry thought enviously, was much more exciting than his. His family had been to the Universal Studios and subsequently succumbed to the Indiana Jones obsession. He went on to give a blow-by-blow account of the films, miming out all the action, much to the amusement of those passing by.

"My, my, my," came a lazy drawl. "Aren't we all just a happy family?"

The lot in the carriage swivelled round to see a pale, thin boy with white-blonde hair, flanked by two burly, goofy looking guys twice his size.

"And isn't it The Three Stooges," muttered Hermione under her breath.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" glared Ron.

"Oh, Weasley. I have to say I am surprised to find you here." Malfoy said smoothly. "I would have thought your family could only afford to travel in the coal compartment."

Ron took a flying leap at the door. "You asked for it, Malfoy!" he roared at the sniggering blonde.

"Ron!" Neville caught the raging Ron just in time to prevent him from tripping over Hedwig's and Pig's cages which had been placed on the floor to make room on the seats for himself, Dean and Seamus.

Draco gave a low whistle. "Is this Longbottom? What did you do Neville? Grandma lock you up in her oven?"

Beside him, the bulky figures of Crabbe and Goyle snickered. Neville flushed.

"You're just jealous because you remain a pasty, sickly white even if you were in an oven," retorted Seamus.

"Oh really," mocked Draco. "I would love nothing better than to look like a wrinkled monkey."

"Beats a bouncing ferret any day," returned Harry.

The Gryffindors roared. Two red spots burned on Malfoy's pale cheeks. He gave Harry a cool look.

"You will pay for this Potter," he said angrily, before he turned on his heel and strode stiffly down the corridor, with Crabbe and Goyle lumbering clumsily after him.

"Serves him right," spat Ron, shaking off Neville's grip. "How do you say this bloody hateful bastard in French?"

"Ron!"

"Ce foutu salaud odieux," winked Neville, as he got up to leave, in order to make his way back to his own carriage.

*

The journey continued without further incident. Harry treated the others to Cauldron Cakes, Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans as the trolley came round at lunch-time.

As Hogwarts drew near, the three fell silent. It was a tiring journey, and they couldn't wait to get on firm ground again, have their usual opening feast in the Great Hall, and fall into the four-poster beds in their dormitories.

Alighting from the carriages which took them from Hogsmeade Station to Hogwarts, the students made their way into the Great Hall for the welcome feast, after the Sorting for the first years. Seeing the eleven-year olds pale-faced and nervous reminded Harry how nerve-wracking it had been for him four years ago. The Sorting Hat fell right over the eyes of many of the first years, and covered the heads of some of them completely.

"I'm telling you," said Ron in a low voice as "MacMillan, Annie" got sorted into Hufflepuff. "They getting smaller and smaller each year."

"And you seem to grow taller and taller each year," teased Hermione.

It wasn't a complete joke. Ron had shot up tremendously, and was close to a head taller than her. She had noticed on the train how he seemed to have trouble finding where to put his legs when sitting down.

When all the newcomers had been sorted, Dumbledore gave a short welcome speech and the feast began. The table of Gryffindors had just started to dig into five different types of roast and eight types of assorted vegetables, when Professor McGonagall came over to the table with a brunette they hadn't seen before, and who wasn't at the Sorting. The Gryffindors couldn't help studying her intently, and she flushed slightly under their gaze. Quite petite in build, she had deep-set brown eyes in a small heart-shaped face, and had rather pale skin despite the awkward flush on her cheeks.

"Gryffindors, this is Ekaterina Karvitskaya. She is from Russia and was at the Rastorovsky Institute of Wizardry. But because her father got transferred to work in Birmingham, it was thought better she changed to an English school, so Dumbledore has accepted her into Hogwarts. She's already been sorted earlier on and is in Gryffindor. And she will be going into Fifth Year. I hope you will all make her feel welcome."

She gave Ekaterina a warm smile, and waved to an empty seat between Neville and Katie Bell, before heading up towards the teacher's table at the front of the hall.

"Fifth Year?" mouthed Fred incredulously, facing Lee.

Ekaterina tentatively made her way to the empty seat McGonagall indicated. It was easy to understand his amazement. The girl looked no bigger than most of the First Years who just arrived. And maybe at most would pass for a Second Year.

"It is okay if I sit here?" she asked softly.

"Yes, of course," said Katie warmly.

Ekaterina slipped into the seat gratefully. Feeling rather rude staring, the rest of the table helped themselves to the food.

"Help yourself," said Angelina Johnson, spearing up several roast potatoes with her knife. "You don't have to put on your best manners for this lot." She waved her spare hand towards the guys at the table, laughing.

Ekaterina smiled and helped herself to some chicken.

"So, Ekaterina, where in Russia do you come from?" asked Dean.

"Katya would do actually," she said hurriedly. "It's the diminuitive for Ekaterina. And much less cumbersome! I'm from Novgorod."

"So what do you learn there? Is it different than here do you think? I mean, do you have anything you emphasise more? Or what?"

Katya frowned as she pondered the question. "Not really, I mean, in response to the emphasising anything in particular bit. I'd say we learn similar things to you here. That was one of the reasons why my teachers in Russia encouraged me to apply to Hogwarts, because it was similar enough. Plus it is a good school," she smiled. "Differences. Ummmm…. I wouldn't know till I start here obviously. Well, an obvious difference would be that lessons were done in Russian back at home!"

The others laughed, and Katya appeared more relaxed.

"Do you find English hard? I mean, you speak it perfect, but like, would you have to really concentrate in order to understand everything, or do you find it easy enough?"

"Oh, it is easy enough. Thankfully. I am just really lucky that my grandfather was an English teacher in Russia. He was a Muggle. And my father uses English in his line of work a lot too."

"Is your father a Muggle too? Or a wizard?" asked Colin Creevey.

"A Muggle. He works in business and information technology. Er, you know, computers, databases, electronic communications sort of stuff," she added when she saw some confused looks around the table. "You don't have to know all of this! My mother's side of the family were wizards though."

"Ah!"

After the initial family talk, the conversation moved on to regular gossip and discussion of the summer holidays again, and finally ending with talk about the Quidditch trials which were to take place in the second week of the term. Ron was nearly falling off his seat in nervous anticipation just thinking about the try-outs for Keeper.

"Do you play Quidditch?" he asked, turning to Katya.

"Just for fun, not seriously. I love watching it though. My favourite team is The Driyoutzy Dragons," she said, and laughed at the sight of Ron's horrified face that anyone would support a team other than the Chudley Cannons.

When the last crumbs of lemon meringue were cleared, the students made their way to their respective houses. When they reached the Gryffindor common room, Angelina, who was the Gryffindor prefect, gave the Fat Lady the password,

"Jumpitty Jackaletties."

Harry could see Katya raising her eyebrows and smothering a giggle when she heard the password.

Yes, she might be quite amusing to have around after all.

*

Lessons and work came thick and fast almost immediately. It seemed to the Fifth Years, every professor had swallowed the same record. "You are going to be sitting your O.W.L.s in June, and there is no time to be messing around. You have precious little time and it is not to be wasted. You will be expected to work, work, work, to achieve the best you can on your exams."

"As if we don't already know," grumbled Seamus, after a particularly gruelling Transfiguration lesson during the second week from McGonagall, where she had repeated that phrase about five times.

"And as if we don't hear enough about it from Hermione," said Ron in a quiet voice to Harry.

"Well, she's only been talking about these exams and urged us to study for them since September last year," chuckled Harry. "I'd say she would be able to take the O.W.L.'s and pass them all with distinction if they took place today."

The Fifth Year Gryffindors made their way to their Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

"Have you heard about who we are going to have yet?"

"No."

"I didn't see any extra teachers during the meal times, did you?"

"No, but then as far as I am aware, no one has had a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson yet. Terry Boot was saying he heard the teacher wouldn't be available till this week to come."

"Well, he, or she, still hadn't shown up at breakfast time today."

"Maybe he, or she, arrived afterwards."

Fred, George and Lee passed the Fifth Years at that moment, on their way to Divination when Lee turned to the lot hanging outside the classroom.

"We have a record, guys. We are actually having the same Dark Arts teacher for two years in a row!"

"Moody? Old Mad-Eye?"

"Yup!"

The Fifth Years cheered and high-fived each other. Hermione turned to Harry and whispered into his ear, "I just hope it is the real Mad-Eye Moody this time!"

"Mad Eye?" asked Katya, confused.

"Yeah, because of his eye," said Dean, still cheering and grinning hard.

"Er, his eye?"

"Yeah. He's got this eye that is huge, round and really, really blue."

"And it never stops moving, never blinks, and rolls round everywhere," finished Ron.

"Ri-igght," acknowledged Katya nervously.

"He's alright," assured George. "Very good actually, when you get over his alarming appearance seeing him for the first time. The only thing is that you just can't mess about in his class or sneak doing anything but his work, because he sees everything."

"But then his classes are so cool and .… interactive, that you don't really get the urge to mess about anyway," added Fred grinning, before hurrying off with George and Lee to the North Tower.

A rhythmical clunking sound down the corridor told the Fifth Years of Moody's arrival. His wooden leg making a noise with each step. When he came up to them, his magical eye spun round wildly as he surveyed the class. Then he pushed open the classroom door and barked, "In!"

The class hurriedly scrambled in. Glancing at Katya, Harry almost burst out laughing at the utterly shocked and stunned expression that was on her face. She swallowed hard, eyeing Moody warily, before following the others into the room.

When the class was seated, Moody closed the door and limped over to the desk at the front of the class, violently slamming down a glass jar and the parchment containing the class registrar. The ink bottle leapt into the air before crashing back down, sending several squirts of black ink flying across the desk.

"I can see you are all present," he growled, not even taking so much as a glance at the registrar. "Perhaps you recall that I was supposed to stay for only one year last year in this post. But times change, and Dark Arts teachers do not grow on trees. So I have volunteered to stay on another year, to ease Professor Dumbledore's workload.."

He stopped, and rolled his eye round again. It was a rather fascinating, though slightly nauseating, quirk, Katya had to say.

"And especially at times like this," Moody continued gruffly. "It is well you learn about defence first hand. Hands-on approach! No good learning from text-books. You aren't going to be carrying them around with you fighting the Dark Lord. You don't pick up The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection and flip to page 174 paragraph 5 ½ when you are faced with the Imperius Curse. You have to be on guard all the time. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

The whole class jumped as he barked out the last two words, his hands thumping hard on the desk and toppling over the ink pot this time.

"I taught you the three Unforgivable Curses last year." His magical eyes swivelled dizzyingly round in its socket though his head remained quite still.

"Mr. Longbottom, I believe your toad is attempting to escape out the window."

Neville's eyes dropped down to his satchel and then up to the window to his left where a toad was about to pop off the ledge.

"Oh no," he moaned. "Trevor!"

Before he could get up, there was a swish of pale blue mist as Moody swept Trevor onto Neville's desk where it spun round for a couple of turns before halting in the centre of the desk.

"I would suggest you fasten your bag a little tighter in the future, Longbottom."

"Yes, sir," replied Neville, blushing furiously.

"Now, where was I? Yes, the Unforgivable Curses. You learnt about those last year, and I am sure some of you found it useful."

His eye flickered at Harry for the briefest of moments, then rolled to the back of his head before turning the right way round again and once more surveying the class.

"You can fight the Imperius Curse, of course, endure the Cruciatus Curse. But it takes character, it takes guts. So best avoid it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE! And as for the Avada Kedavra curse, you had better be in your guard. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Shooting a quick look at her, Harry could see Katya starring transfixed at Moody, holding her breath. Her hands were clasped tightly together, and one could see her knuckles were turning white. She wasn't what Harry would have called utterly terrified, just….. startled. He could relate to that. Even after one year's worth of lessons from Moody (albeit an imposter), he couldn't help being startled during the professor's more intense moments.

"So we move on."

He picked up the glass jar he had carried into the class upon entrance and asked,

"What do you see in here? Patil?"

"Er," Parvati twisted a piece of string nervously round her fingers. "N-n-nothing?"

"Wrong!" roared Moody. Parvati jumped. Ron swallowed hard. Hermione blinked.

"Just because you don't see anything, doesn't mean there isn't anything. The Disparuatis spell. Covers any object or person with an invisible sheath, so no one can see it."

He pointed his wand at the jar and muttered, "Revealo!"

The air in the jar shimmered, and faintly at first, then more clearly, the shape of a large, fat, hairy centipede appeared. It grew more and more defined until the centipede was most certainly there and the shimmer disappeared.

Ron turned slightly green. "Why can't he pick some nicer creatures than that? First spiders and tarantulas, now gigantic hairy centipedes."

"Eew!" cried Lavender.

Moody stared out into the class, "Now that, is an invisible spell. You wouldn't like to walk face into this centipede, no?"

Lavender gagged. Parvati looked like she was going to faint. Neville paled. Katya made a disgusted face.

"I thought so," said Moody wryly. Waving his wand over the jar again, he said, "Disparuto!"

A shimmery haze filled the jar once more as the centipede's outline because hazier and hazier until it speckled out of sight.

"And there are more dangerous and ominous objects under the Disparuatis spell than hairy centipedes. Dark wizards, traitors, protection shields, dark arts weapons, traps, serpents, dragons. Anything! What you don't see isn't always what it is. Beware of seemingly deserted areas. Be on guard. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

The class jumped again.

By the time the bell rang, the Fifth Years had the words "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" ringing in their ears. Which no doubt, was precisely Mad-Eye Moody's intention. As the class made their way to the Great Hall for lunch, Ron paused by Katya's desk where she was collecting up her books and quills.

"So, how did you find Mad-Eye?" he asked, as they headed out towards the door.

Katya pondered for a few seconds.

"He is very……vigorous, isn't he?" she finally said, struggling to find a word.

Ron laughed. "Yeah, very intense. But he is alright really, as George said."

"I like ole Moody, mad or not," said Dean, coming up and joining them.

"Yeah, he's pretty cool. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" mimicked Dean, as the rest of them burst into giggles.

"I really liked Lupin though," said Ron quietly.

A rude snort came from behind them. The Slytherins had just joined up with them outside the Great Hall, arriving from their Charms class. Ron turned round to face Malfoy, who had his usual sneer on his thin face.

"You would like the werewolf of course," drawled Malfoy smugly, seeing Ron's temper rise. "You must relate to him. I never thought I would see clothes and equipment as old and seventh hand as your family's, Weasley. But Lupin came close. And of course your Mudblood friend would support him too. She seems to be so passionate about protecting and saving creatures too pathetic to stand up for themselves."

Ron felt his face flush crimson with anger, and he was this close to punching Malfoy's smug little face right there in the corridor. He didn't give a damn if McGonagall, or Snape, or even Dumbledore came along at that very moment and expelled him there and then on the spot.

Malfoy snickered, "I can tell Pauper Weasley is annoyed. His fists are clenching, and he looks as if he needs chaining to the wall."

"You smug, rude, snobby little……"

Ron paused in his angry cascade of insults. He threw Draco a contemptuous look. And then, fighting to keep the anger and disgust out of his voice, said loftily, "And I guess Mr. Malfoy would want a Death Eater as a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Preferably his father perhaps? I am sure he would then finally be able to shine, and to succeed in something."

Malfoy was caught off-guard by the unexpected response, and before he could recover, Ron had already joined Harry and Hermione halfway down the corridor. Draco scowled, his eyes almost disappearing into the deep folds of his forehead. He noticed Crabbe and Goyle beside him, waiting for him to move on, and looking slightly puzzled at him staring after Ron.

"Fortunately," thought Draco, "they are far to thick to have picked up on anything."

He didn't want rumours to go round that Ron, Ron, a Weasley, had upped him one. It irked him. It irked him even more, he realised, as he marched furiously in the direction of the Slytherin common room, with Crabbe and Goyle clumsily lumbering behind him, that Ron's lofty comment had cut deep.

It wasn't true. But that was precisely why it struck deep, because it wasn't true. He wouldn't want his father to be his teacher. Just the thought of that made him shudder, and a cold heavy weight formed at the pit of his stomach. He could just hear his father's cold, hard voice now, ringing in his head.

"I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer. Though if his school marks don't pick up, that may indeed be all he is fit for."

"I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam."

"I supplied your House team with a full set of the finest broomsticks. I expected better results than to have you wiped out by a couple of lowly Weasley commoners and the Potter simpleton."

And the worst, last summer, when his father had returned home in a foul mood late one night. Only to be greeted with Draco's report card, which, as usual, had not satisfied his father. Lucius Malfoy had pounded up the stairs and literally dragged the boy out of his bed.

"If you do not wish to shame the family name any further boy, I would suggest you attempt to understand the meaning of work."

Malfoy shuddered. No, he certainly did not want his father to be the Dark Arts teacher. It was bad enough to endure his cold, heartless remarks of discontentment when he read Draco's school reports once a year. It would be a thousand times worse for him to see his father in person at the school, to endure those sharp criticisms on a daily basis.

"Shine indeed," thought Malfoy bitterly. He could have snorted with derision had he not felt a strange prickling sensation behind his eyes instead. Fiercely, he held his head up high. No one, no one, was going to see him show vulnerability. That was just so not on.

And yet……. and yet……

And yet, he wished he could just break down. He wished he could just let loose everything and have someone to talk things over with.

And above all, he wished his father would just simply understand. And listen. And sympathise.

Translations:

As-tu passé de bon temps a la belle France cet ete ?

Did you have a nice time in beautiful France this summer?

Mais oui. J'ai passé des vacances fantastiques a la Cote D'Azur. Il y avait plein de soliel. Le mer si bleu, les villes pitoresques, personnes amicables. Vraiment super.

But yes. I had a fantastic holiday at the Azur Coast. There was plenty of sun. The sea was blue, the towns picturesque, the people friendly. Really super.