Harry Potter and the Ebony Orb Disclaimer:  sorry, but no, I do not own Harry Potter.  Which really bites.

WARNING:  This story is R for a REASON!  It is NOT NC-17, as I have read much, /much/ worse that was permitted, so I have abused nothing!  Rated for violence, serious angst (later on), and rape.  If you have a problem with it, go read something else because I didn't write it just to be safe.  It's written because it's how and what I write.  So buzz off. :{

(and if my mean attitude offends, I do apologize but I'm sorta protective of my work.)

Chapter 6 – Mad-eye Moody

Harry awoke to nervous whining.  He sat up, wincing quietly where the average eleven year old would groan.  'Hospital Wing,' he thought, and shuddered as he recalled why.  The Seventh Years played rough.  What would happen when the school found his name on the Ebony Orb sign-up sheet?  On second thought, he didn't want to know.

The whining grew louder and Harry looked to the side.  Sirius was there; panting worriedly at him.

"Hey boy, how'd you get in here?" Harry asked; questing about for Mm. Pomfrey.  Sirius barked happily, and Harry eased himself out of bed.  He limped slightly but moved fast, and was soon running for DADA, which was his first class of the day.  "I'm late, I'm late, I'm so, so late…" he panted as he transfigured his Hospital garb (white with yellow duckies) into a school robe.  He dashed madly into the classroom –

And ducked as a curse whizzed by overhead.

"Stop!" he shouted, dodging the next hex.  "I'm sorry I'm late!  Really!"  The curses stopped and Harry heard laughter as he cautiously raised his head and lowered his arms from his submissive gesture.  A man gazed at him curiously.  A man with a wooden leg ending in a clawed foot, a chunk missing from his nose, and an electric blue eye that spun backwards in a dizzying arc.

"And you are?" the man growled; the scars on his face stretching and twisting grotesquely.

"Harry Potter, sir," replied Harry, moving slowly to an empty desk.

"Why are you late, Potter?"

"I overslept."  The boy's eyes challenged the other students to find a lie in his statement.  A few laughed – rumors had gotten out then – before the man glowered them into silence.

"I am Alastor, 'Mad-eye' Moody," Moody announced.  "And I don't react well to sudden movements.  Ten points from Gryffindor for being late, and fifteen points to Gryffindor for good reflexes.  Sit down.  No, you won't need to take notes yet.  Today will be mostly a practical lesson."  He moved to stand before his desk.  "Now, this year the Fifth Year DADA course will cover mostly dueling.  To do this you will need to know curses.  Not just those ridiculous Tickling Charms, but real curses.  And the Headmaster and I think you should at least know what illegal curses look like so I will put each of you under the Imperious and then we will study pain and other Dark curses for the first month.  You will under no circumstances perform any of these.  Should you care to disregard this warning…well, expulsion would look good.

"We will do this alphabetically.

"Abner, Chris, get up here!"  The fifteen year old looked nervous as he made his way to the front.  "Imperio!"  Chris suddenly danced about in an astonishingly accurate parody of the Swan ballet.  Most students laughed.  Harry didn't.  He did shudder, face paling: For someone to be able to control others to such an extent…Uncle Vernon could make him administer his own beating!  There was a quick movement near his right eye.  Harry shied away violently, covering his head.  He was suddenly little again, and he knew Uncle Vernon was mad.  He whimpered slightly and clamped a hand over his mouth before realizing someone was shaking him.  His gaze refocused and he stared into Moody's chest.

"Potter, snap out of it!"  Harry pushed away gently, his classmates laughter ringing in his ears.

"What happened?"

"Wallace Beckett walked past you for his turn and you collapsed.  What did happen, Potter?"

"I – nothing.  Sorry; I'm sorry."  Harry sat quietly, biting his lip until it was his turn.  None of the other kids were able to throw off Imperious, and they seemed rather confused when it was over.  Harry drew a shuddering breath as Mad-eye pointed his wand at him with a shout of 'Imperio' before he was overtaken by an immense relaxation submersed in fluffy clouds of bliss that promised to continue if he'd just…'imitate a squirrel.'  Harry stiffened.  He hated taking orders.  Instructions were fine; there was reason.  There could be no reason to make a fool of himself.  'Imitate a squirrel.'  He didn't want to.  'Do it!'  Harry sat down obstinately and glared at Alastor as his vision slowly cleared.

"No!  I won't and you can't make me!"  And he remembered what was going on.  "Oh, sir!  I'm sorry!  I didn't mean to be rude!  I just - "  Moody broke in with a smile.

"Did you see that!  Potter beat it!  Now, let's see if anyone else can manage!  Wonderful, Potter!  They'll have a hard time controlling you!"  The other students were far less appreciative of his skill, and they were even less happy when his name was discovered on the sign-up sheet.  Harry ignored the glares and began to talk to himself in his lonely corner of the Gryffindor table.

"See?  Now look what you've done!  Gone and made everyone hate you, that's what!  You know you'll never become anyone special, no matter how hard you try…yeah, I know.  And as much as I know, I still don't know how not to be a freak.  Gods this is really pathetic, I'm having a conversation with myself…" he muttered, stabbing his peas fiercely.

"And then he just dropped - "

"Practically bawling he was - "  Harry cringed away from the sneering tones.

"Yeah, but he beat Imperious, didn't he?"

"I'd say that took real guts - "

"Unlike the rest of this bloody school, which goes about - "

"Insulting him and getting mad - "

"When you really should have expected it - "

"He's Harry Potter - "

"And that's a lot to live up to," finished George.  He and Fred had also caught the tag ends of the comments and Harry looking a bit lost sitting alone with everyone against him.

As a great portion of the room split their glares between Harry and the two Weasleys, Fred and George marched down to the eleven-year-old and began eating lunch.

"As of now," whispered Fred, "Don't drink the pumpkin juice."  Harry grinned and nodded as George gave a conspiratorial wink.

A few seconds passed…

"Aak!  I'm turning pink!"

"Look at your hair - "

"What's going on - "

"Percy, your eyes - "

"The Hufflepuff's've got tails!"

Everyone who wasn't turning something refused to touch food or drink, and were laughing and gaping by turns.  Soon, the majority of Gryffindor had glowing green eyes; Ravenclaw dignity was scrambled with their hair standing precisely on end; Hufflepuff had bushy or rat-like tails; and Slytherin's were touching skin of a blazingly hot pink.

"Don't worry," whispered George to Harry.  "It wears off - "

"In an hour - "

"Or two.  Y'see - "

"Gred and Forge's Weasley's Wizard Wheezes have to be tested - "

"And so this is the test - "

"I think the product passed - "

"But if the creators live remains to be seen."  The twins ran for it, making Harry wonder for a bit if they really would have to worry about that; the Seventh years who had beaten him up the night before were looking murderous.  Harry shied away from their gaze and hurriedly decided to learn some defensive charms and perhaps ask Moody for dueling lessons.  Even if he didn't like the man, Harry had to admit he needed his expertise.

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(A/N: okei, okei, I know this next part would NEVER happen in real life, but I happen to LIKE Harry being all freakishly sacrificing, and I love to beat up my main characters.  I doubt there will be a chapter in which Harry DOESN'T get hurt, so please bear with me.)

After dinner, Harry hurried to meet Zabini, but he wasn't focusing on occurrences around him; his normally sharp senses didn't notice someone else until a hand grabbed his collar and hauled him against the wall.  The Seventh Years.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have TIME for this today," Harry sighed.  "I have a previous beating arranged.  You can have me when I'm done, okay?"

"Not okay, midget," growled a pink-skinned giant.  "We know who pranked us, and what we do to you is their warning."

"Please," Harry gasped, as a arm covered his jugular, "I have to be somewhere!"  He kneed the teen holding him and cast a quick, general repelling charm before dashing to the dungeons.  They would eventually counteract his spell, but it would take awhile.  He hurried down to meet the thugs before they could forget the contract.  It didn't work out as he planned.

A yowl greeted his ears as he entered the dungeons.  Harry quickly located the source – a small black kitten with bright blue eyes was backed against the far wall by the world's favorite Slytherins.

"I told you what would happen if you broke your word," he bit out as they whirled around.

*

A/N: I wanted to add more to it, but I keep getting requests, and I hate disappointing you guys, but please don't hate me for slow updates!  I have tests and dance and all sorts of stuff.  And I have a time restriction here too.

Please review for me.  It's just about the only thing that gives me warm fuzzy feelings.

Hmm…if anyone from the website Psyke is floating around this story, please contact me.  I need to know something.  Thank you.