Harry was petting Hedwig's feathers, his chin propped up on his free hand. The white snow owl was sitting on the Gryffindor table, hooting, while she relaxed from a long flight. She had been with Sirius and Narcissa for the last two days, getting a letter there, he had just wanted to write. Yes, the two were only a mirror call away, but still, it was nice spelling out his thoughts through writing. It helped him clear out his thoughts, even though he had told most of his week to them over the mirror already. He turned his gaze for a moment over, where Ron sat tickling Dawn's stomach with a quill. Dawn was lying on her back on the table, her little feet kicking the air with she chirped happily and Harry felt a warm glow from her. He was so lucky, having such a happy and energetic familiar, making his life so much better.

'Speaking of a better life,' he thought while he stole a glance over at the Ravenclaw table. Cho was talking to one of her friends, while she was eating her breakfast. Her gaze turned over the tables like she noticed someone watching her and their gazes met. Smiling Cho raised her hand waving for a moment at him. Harry quickly raised his hand and waved back, bashful, while his ears turned red a little. Cho turned back to her friend and with a grin, Harry resumed his petting of Hedwig.

The date had gone so well and when they had returned to the castle, Cho has pulled him to the side into a small classroom nearby. Harry had been confused, for a moment unsure what they were doing when he had felt warm lips brushing over his cheek. Cho's jasmine and rose perfume had been so strong in his nose and he had felt his mind topple over. It had felt like an eternity and just a split second at the same time before her wonderful lips had left him, stepping back. Harry had problems forming a complete sentence even in his mind back then, verbally it would have been impossible. Cho had just smiled at him, wished him a nice day and left behind an utterly confused Harry, who after he realized really what had happened wanted to burst from happiness. Dawn had been unable to sleep most of the night, hopping up and down the bed, forcing him to climb down into his trunk once again, because the entire dorm had yelled at him to shut her up. Even a few socks had been thrown in his general direction. So he had picked up the chirping bundle of energy and had taken refuge in the small room in his trunk. Luckily the bed down there was just as good as the one upstairs, so it wasn't that big of a hassle. Harry had considered permanently sleeping down there, but he liked sleeping in the bed next to his best friend, even though Ron was snoring rather loudly most of the nights now.

A sharp nip on his finger bolted Harry from his thoughts. Hedwig was batting her wings, hooting at him with a slightly annoyed tone. Harry quickly handed her a slice of bacon, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Sorry girl didn't mean to ignore you." He whispered, petting her feathers. The snow-white bird took the bacon graciously, before spreading her wings and leaving the table to return to the owlery. Harry felt bad, he had neglected Hedwig for Dawn over the last couple of weeks and he shouldn't do it. Hedwig had been his second friend in the magical world, right after Hagrid and she had been loyal and comforting to him through all the events with the philosopher stone and the Chamber of Secrets. Making a vow to himself to appreciate her more, Harry dug in his scrambled eggs. He should probably visit her after classes today.

Harry checked for a moment the way Gryph was wrapped around his neck. Luckily he didn't seem to want much besides sleep and food, which was the polar opposite of the black bundle of feathers hopping over the table into Harry's lap, chirping at him like she was chatting. In fact, the small snake got annoyed by Dawn quite often, since the phoenix was so full of energy, constantly wanting to play, yet her playing consisted of pulling at his tail, something Gryph really disliked and he was rather vocal about it. Harry sighed a little while nuzzling Dawn's beak with his index finger. This year was passing so much faster than any before and here he had been thinking it would be a quiet year. At least today they would have their first new lesson in History of Magic, right after Wizarding Etiquette.

Across him Hermione looked at her watch, pocketing the newspaper she had been reading for the last few minutes. Looking over at Harry she rose from her seat, picking up her book bag.

"Harry we need to go or we will be late to Society and Etiquette." Hermione stated, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Harry nodded, eating the last bit of scrambled eggs and let Dawn hop from his hand into her warm pouch. The small bird chirped once more before ducking her head and Harry felt her shift against his chest, while she tried finding a comfortable position. Since the night had been rather lively, she probably would fall asleep quickly, Harry thought with a smile. Dawn always looked so damn cute when she was asleep, tucking her beak in the puffed out feathers on her chest. It had already become an event in the Gryffindor common room, watching the small bird sleep, near the fire, while purring like a cat. It looked heartwarming and quite a few of the girls had sighed dreamily when they watched her. Of course, Harry hadn't noticed any of that, to entranced with the lovely bird to realize what was going on. He also picked up his book bag and clapped on Ron's shoulder.

"See you later mate. Remember today we have Professor Flamel for the first time." Harry stated, looking up at the heads table. The place to Dumbledores right, where Professor McGonagall normally sat was now occupied by a really old looking lady. She had something of a grandmotherly look, talking quietly to the headmaster. Professor McGonagall had taken up a seat a little down the table, talking to Professor Sprout at the moment. She didn't seem to mind that someone had taken her place at the table, considering Nicolas and the headmaster were old friends, his wife probably knew Dumbledore well too. Nicolas was sitting next to his wife, talking quietly with Professor Flitwick. Apparently, he wouldn't teach here for now, since he wasn't all too eager, but Professor Dumbledore let him stay anyway, so he could be close to his wife. Harry just now realized he had never thought about what teacher was married and if they were, where were their spouses?

While Harry watched, Professor Flamel rose from her chair and walked slowly towards the side door, only stopping for a moment to squeeze her husband's shoulder and petting Ember, who was perched on Nicolas' backrest, for a short moment. She then walked slowly, like a really old person, slightly hunched over, out of the hall. Hermione grabbed Harry's upper arm and pulled him along so they would get to their classroom in time.

"Good morning everyone, today we will be talking about health." Professor Cambridge as he walked into the classroom from his office. His fine robe swayed behind him while he walked through the class, his hands folded behind his back. Harry and Hermione were sitting at their table, parchment in front of them and quills ready. The professor reached the front of the room, turning and sat down on the edge of his teacher's desk.

"Now most of you can probably tell me what the magical hospital is called. Anyone?"

And as he predicted, most hands went up and high. Mr Cambride nodded and pointed at Dean Thomas. The black boy held his head high and spoke.

"St. Mungos, Sir."

Cambridge nodded again and waved his wand, making the name of the hospital appear on the board. Cambridge stood straight again walking up and down in front of the class like he normally did.

"St. Mungos is the one and only magical hospital in all of Britain. It was founded over six hundred years ago and is the centre of magical health efforts ever since. Can anyone tell me why St. Mungo was founded?" He turned to the class, seeing only one hand. This wasn't in their normal book so he hadn't expected anyone, but then again Miss Granger turned out to surprise him quite often.

"Miss Granger!" He said with a nod. Hermione sat straighter like she often did when a teacher spoke to her and announced what she had probably read somewhere.

"St Mungos, named after Lord Mungos, was found in 1465 during the war of the roses. It was first only planned as a temporary place to treat burn victims. Wizards who were loyal to house York had tried using dragons in their efforts to win the war. In what is known as the Battle of Sorrow they killed almost half the Lancaster army, before the dragons turned on the York side, forcing them to retreat. After the initial success of the hospital, the King ordered its installation permanent."

Professor Cambridge nodded, pointing at her.

"Exactly, well done Miss Granger, ten points. How did you know, this isn't in your textbook?"

Hermione smiled a little smug and crossed her arms. "I read it in Britain through the Ages, professor." She held up a book that looked old and a little bit handled. The professor nodded and turned back to the class.

"What do you know about the hospital?" He asked the class, opening his arms slightly. Again, Hermione's arm went up but a few others too. The professor called on a Slytherin girl with dark hair and pale skin. "Miss Davis?"

The black-haired girl frowned slightly, concentrating.

"There are a few departments. I think there were four or something like that? I do know, one is specialized for potion accidents because a friend had to go there two years ago." She hung her head slightly, but Professor Cambridge only smiled at her.

"Yes, that is correct Miss Davis, a point for you. There are four wings in St. Mungos, one for injuries by magical beasts, one for potion accidents, one for magical diseases and one for curse trauma. All of these have subsections and more specialized personnel for different illnesses but these are the broad categories and every healer is part of one of these. Now you see, like most things in our world, the system is rather simply structured. I heard from a few people, that being in a muggle hospital you had a sometimes more complicated system with paying and being sent from doctor to doctor. This is not the case in our world. Can someone tell me why?"

One hand raised in the back.

"Yes, Mr Goldstein."

Said boy answered quickly and a little bit with haste. Professor Cambridge, even though being a nice man, was still intimidating. "That is because patients in St. Mungos don't pay for the treatment, it is completely free."

The man nodded in agreement.

"That is correct, Mr Goldstein, two points for you too. St. Mungos is financed by donations, both small and large and also funded by the Ministry. Every witch or wizard can go there and be treated for whatever illness he or she has without fear of cost. While there are contributions by smaller donations, traditionally made after a treatment, while not being mandatory, most of the funding is done by wealthy families, like the Blacks or Greengrasses." The professor looked pointedly at Harry, who felt his ears warm a little bit. He felt a lot of eyes turn to him since everybody knew he was Sirius' godson. His godfather had made a donation to St. Mungos just a few weeks back and it had been a large sum too. The Prophet even wrote about it, in a smaller column but still. Next to Harry Hermione raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" The professor crossed his arms and leaned against his desk again.

Hermione concentrated and frowned a little bit. "Professor, you said every witch and wizard can be treated for every illness there for free, correct?"

Professor Cambridge squinted his eyes slightly while he nodded slowly. This girl was incredibly smart. In the two sections they had up until now she had not only known an answer to every question, she herself asked questions and most of them were uncomfortably well thought out. It was obvious that, while she was obviously in love with the magical world, her liberal thinking made her question a lot of the traditional way the world behaved and her questions led down a path where he often had no answer other than "that is how we do it." to justify a certain cruelty. She had a tendency to raise the ugly parts of the wizarding world to the light, something that made Cambridge unnerved. He had already caught himself thinking about the points she had been making. "Yes, that is correct Miss Granger."

Hermione frowned and looked concentrated. "They also treat long-lasting curse effects right?" Cambridge felt this little worry in the back of his head. The girl was onto something but he wasn't sure he would like it but there was no way getting around it. He straightened his back.

"That is correct Miss Granger. I'm sure your questions serve a point, please elaborate." He said steeling himself.

Hermione nodded to herself, tapping on her table. "See, I ask because I'm confused. I know werewolves should be treated there since they have a long-lasting curse effect they suffer from. I know that wolfs-bane potion is expensive and a lot of werewolves can't afford it, yet you state that St. Mungos is free. Shouldn't they be treated there as well?" Silence followed her question, while Cambridge sighed inwardly. His feeling had been right, he knew where this would lead, to a discussion about werewolf rights in the wizarding society. He himself had not much problem with werewolves. They were frightening and all but in the end he had never met one, so he didn't really care one way or the other for the creatures. But he could also see that their treatment wasn't fair. He sighed outwardly too and nodded slowly.

"Yes Miss Granger, in a perfect world, werewolves would be treated there with no cost. Sadly we don't live in a perfect world."

Now Harry raised his hand and Cambridge nodded at him.

"What is the reasoning for not treating them?" Harry had a sort of worry in his voice. Cambridge looked over at these young people, full of hopes and dreams. The young were always the ones challenging the status quo always inspired, always calling out the injustice in the world. Until time and the world would turn them to other thoughts.

"Because they don't count as witches and wizards by the law. They are considered creatures in the eyes of the ministry and therefore no treatment is offered to them in St. Mungos.

And just like Cambridge had predicted it, there was an uproar going through the room.

This would be a long day.

Ron leaned back on his chair, waiting almost eagerly. He never had thought he would be really interested in a class more than usual but Muggle Studies turned out to be rather interesting. While he was sceptical at first, he was really surprised how interesting the muggle world could be. It was like this other world he sometimes saw but never understood. Like yeah, his dad had this car and all but there were cars driving faster than a hundred miles per hour, it was probably fun to drive one of these.

Malfoy, Ron noticed, was sitting in a chair in the back his arms crossed and an angry look on his face. Last session he had once again tried to pull himself from class, this time with a direct letter from his father, but apparently the pointed words of the member of the board of directors had just been brushed off by Professor Burbage and once again Draco had been forced to sit through the lesson, much to Ron's glee.

Neville was sitting next to him, staring at the book. In it were depictions of strange tools and so on. There was something formed like an L, that was used to make holes in walls, while there was also something that was like a strange setup, with a large window and some box to the side, something called a computer. It would lead to this place called the internet, some library of sorts. Ron wasn't sure why that library had a different name and that you could access it from everywhere in the world if you had one of these computer thingies was a little strange, but it did sound interesting. Apparently, it was also used to play games, maybe it was advanced enough that you can play chess on it! He would need to find out. Neville frowned hard, shaking his head.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked leaning over. Neville sighed pointing at a part. On it was a large white box, like a closet. The word fridge was written next to it.

"I don't get it, why do they have a closet that's cold inside. It says to prevent food from turning bad, but I don't get it. The food in our kitchen just lies in the cupboards and there is nothing to it." Ron also frowned, he knew what Neville meant. Food was fine in the kitchen everybody knew that. He almost jumped out of his skin when a female voice in front of him talked.

"There are probably stasis spells on your cupboards, made by magic, so muggles don't have it, they need to do something different." The blue-haired girl in front of them turned to grin at Ron and Neville. The two boys looked at her curious.

"You sure?" Neville asked. Susan nodded.

"I asked my aunt when I came upon this chapter in the book during the summer. She is a little bit versed in the muggle things since she has to know a few things for investigations and so on. Apparently, the Aurors are taught in these things so they can move through the muggle world without being noticed."

The two boys looked at her in surprise but then the door closed pointedly, and everyone looked over to the side where the professor had entered. The man walked over to his board and wrote something on it.

"Tools. Today we will talk about the tools muggles have. But first, a simple question, what is the most important tool for a wizard? No worries, this isn't a trick question." He asked with a light and warm voice, smiling at them. Ron raised his hand, he had noticed in this class you could often answer because most questions about the wizarding part of the world were really simple and basic and the professor was never mad when they didn't know the answer. More so he seemed more frustrated when no one answered than by a wrong answer. He smiled at the redheaded boy.

"Yes, Mr Weasley."

Ron squared his shoulders a little. "The wand, sir."

"Correct! The wand." The man said with a big wave. "It is our most important tool and the one thing almost every wizard and witch would miss the most if lost. The wand is the first thing you pick up in the morning and the last you lay down in the evening. Would you hand yours to someone Mr Weasley, just like that?"

Ron's eyes went wide and he shook his head with a little panic. To think to hand someone his wand! That...you just didn't do that!

Professor Burbage nodded in agreement."The wand is something special and every one of us holds his own in high regards. It is so personal that touching someone's wand is really inappropriate and a sign of enormous trust or great peril." He pulled out his own wand showing it to the class. "This is mine for example. Oakwood, 14 inches, with a unicorn hair as a core. I can say I have never handed it to someone in my life other than the times when I visited the ministry and my late wife. Every day we practice magic with all the little things we do so often, we don't even think about it really. The coffee is too cold? A warming spell. That book is to far away? A summoning spell. A flick of the wrist, a turn of the hand and most of our problems go away. But while the magic and our wand are our greatest tools, it is also our greatest weakness."

It took the students a moment before they realized the turn in the professor's speech. Then frowns appeared on their faces and they looked at each other, confused. After a short while Daphne Greengrass, her face like so often an unmoving mask, raised her hand. Professor Burbage pointed at her.

"Would you please elaborate this point professor?" She asked, a little confused herself. Daphne wasn't used to not understanding a teacher's point since she was a close second in all classes behind Granger. Well except DADA, where Lord Peverell beat both of them. Professor Burbage smiled and nodded.

"Of course Miss Greengrass." He turned to the board and wrote wand on the other side of the black surface. "Miss Greengrass, if you come upon a problem, what do you do?"

The girl thought for a moment before she tilted her head slightly. "I would look what spell or potion would suffice for this situation." Professor Burbage nodded in agreement.

"Of course you would, rightly so. Magic is a powerful and helpful ally. We can find a solution to almost everything with it, we just have to look." He raised his finger. "But it also made us complacent. For most problems, there are spells that solve these problems, but once we finish this, we normally don't look for a better way. This is different from muggles. They don't have magic and so they have to find different solutions for most problems. In the past, these solutions have been mostly underwhelming. We will talk about muggle history next year probably, but just let me say what was done in the past for example in the field of medicine can be downright barbaric. In ancient China, they would use mercury as a medicine, a substance that today we know is highly poisonous. But that also leads to a very different way of viewing the world. The muggle world is constantly moving, always striding to new horizons and trying to invent new ways. This is especially true for the last couple of decades. While we ourselves mostly limit ourselves to what is possible with magic, muggles don't know this limit. They miss out on a powerful source but they found their own. Also while we always try to solve something with the same tool, again and again, they invent new tools each of them with a different purpose while we have something that has so many functions we forget that it can't do everything and only rarely use a different one."

He clapped his hands.

"Now, I guess you have all read the chapter on tools for today, are there any questions?" He asked with a smile. Ron slowly raised his hand.

"Sir, the book says something about muggles cutting open other muggles." Ron was unsure, it was stated so strange. Burbage nodded.

"Yes Mr Weasley, you see muggle medicine has evolved in this direction, using surgery. They have their own medicine, but sometimes they have to use this brutal way of doing things. One example is something called cancer. Most of your Muggle-born and half-blood comrades will be familiar with it. You see cancer is a lump of malfunctioning cells that grow inside of a person and slowly but steadily kill them." Ron stared at the man in horror, but the professor only chuckled.

"Don't you worry children, your magic stops this from happening to you, but for muggles, this is a real threat. So to get this lump out they sometimes have to cut someone open and cut this lump out. This may sound really bad, but it is the only way they can do it. In fact, cancer is a very large problem for muggles even today. But they developed better and better tools to deal with it and a cancer diagnosis isn't a death sentence anymore." He turned to pull out a weird looking picture of what looked like six walnuts cut in half, just white outlines on a dark backdrop.

"This is an MRI-Scan. What you can see here, is the inside of a human skull, from the top different layers."

Neville blurted out. "They cut human skulls in layers?"

Again Burbage chuckled shaking his head. "No, no, they don't. They use a machine that basically sends magnetic waves in the body and these waves will then bounce back some way, I'm not sure myself how it works but it gives them the possibility to look inside the skull without cutting it open. I know this because this scan is my own brain." He tapped on the picture, while the students stared at him surprised.

"Did it hurt?" Susan asked and their teacher shook his head.

"Not at all. It is a little loud and lying still for some time is a little difficult but that's it."

Astounded the students sat there quiet when a single hand raised in the back. Professor Burbage smiled and nodded.

"Mr Malfoy, glad you want to join the conversation. You have a question?"

Draco frowned, pointing at the book. He had skipped the chapter about tools because it was boring and flipped through the book until he reached a chapter about weapons. The one thing that might be interesting because he had to know what a filthy muggle might do to him with these.

"There is this chapter about weapons. In it there are a few I understand like maces and swords, but then there come a few others in the back, I don't get."

Professor Burbage sighed, nodding. "That isn't really something I wanted to show you so early, because I first wanted to show you the great things in the muggle world before we come to the ugly part." The class stared at him with anticipation making him sigh again.

"All right, fine. Mr Malfoy, what was it that confused you?"

Draco frowned. The confusion wasn't really what he was dealing with, what was this pompous idiot thinking? Yet, for once he didn't argue about something this half-blood had said and turned to his book.

"There are two things. One is a...rifle? It does seem like you can hit someone with it but not really dangerous. The other is this egg-shaped thing here, this...nukular bomb? What's that?"

Ron raised his head and he smirked. Nukular, that was something Hermione had said the other day. What was it? Professor Burbage nodded and his demeanour turned rather gloomy, the normally constant warm smile vanished from his face, when he turned and stepped to the side, pulling something from the case on the side. It was like the depiction in the book next to the rifle, only with some tube on top of it.

"Alright. Listen up and listen carefully. While muggles have invented many great things and great these are indeed, they also have a real talent for creating devices of murder. They have many many years of using it. In fact, there are far more wars between muggles than between wizards. You could argue this is because there are more of them, while others claim muggles are just more violent by nature. I for one think it is just a sad development no matter what the reason. But this is still one of the examples of innovation. This." He pointed at the long object. "Is my Lee-Enfield. My grandfather fought with this rifle in the second world war, not that I think your students know what it is. It was a muggle war which happened the same time as the Grindelwald war and spanned all of Europe." Professor Burbage looked at the rifle in a strange way.

"This is a weapon, make no mistake about it. If I would point this end." He tapped against one end. "At you, while it was loaded and pull this trigger. "He tapped against another part. "You would die, depending on where you were hit. But the real problem with these is that it is almost instantly. The bullet moves hundreds of feet in a second. That is why it is so deadly, the speed." He looked up and smiled at the horrified class.

"Luckily these aren't handed out to everyone like candy. There are very strict rules who can get these and when. Even openly carrying one around in public is only allowed if you were a police officer or part of the military. Very few have one at home, so no real need to worry. But should you ever come into contact with a person pointing a gun at you, you should surrender."

On the left side, Susan Bones raised her hand.

"Why do you have this professor, if it is that dangerous?"

Professor Burbage smiled, shaking his head.

"That is a good question Miss Bones. You see, while these are dangerous, people love using them. Not at one another usually but there are different uses as well. Aiming one is difficult, so there are contests are held who can shoot the most accurate. I myself can say I am a rather good shooter now, even though I would never win a real tournament. If you think about it Quidditch is dangerous too. I would even argue more people died on a Quidditch pitch than in a gun tournament, but that is just me. The other reason is sentimental. My grandfather gave me this gun when I turned eighteen, the age of maturity in the muggle world. I grew up with his stories about camaraderie and friendship in the corps, so yes, it does seem a little strange I know, but trust me I would never point it at another person."

The classroom turned quiet, while professor Burbage carefully placed the rifle back in the case.

He then turned smiling. Daphne raised her hand, lowering the book again she had just been reading in.

"These nuclear bombs...are those really real?"

Professor Burbage sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.

This would be a long day.

Hermione and Harry were talking quietly, sitting next to each other in the History of Magic classroom. Dawn was sitting on the desk right in front of them playing with a quill Harry had given her. The small bird tugged it around, pulling and throwing it in the air, only to snatch it again when it came down. The rest of Wizarding Etiquette had been really interesting, they had talked about some of the benefits of the system. For one, old people were supported and schooling as in Hogwarts was also free from fees. It was almost like professor Cambridge tried his hardest to show that the wizarding world was better than the muggle world in any shape of form.

They were talking eagerly about the werewolf legislature when Ron sagged down on the chair next to Harry. The black-haired boy turned to his best friend, frowning a little when he saw the strange look on his face.

"Hey Ron...you okay?" He asked carefully, shaking his friend's shoulder. Ron hummed, not looking at Harry like he was thinking about something. Susan, who was sitting down next to Hermione shook her head.

"He was this way ever since we left class. We talked about nuclear warheads today. Most are still a little shocked I think." Susan said in a low voice and when Harry looked around he saw quite a few that were looking a little pale. Hermione sighed, nodding.

"It is a rather gloomy matter. Have you talked about the Cuban missile crisis?" She asked, towards her. Susan frowned.

"What crisis?" She asked. Hermione ducked her head slightly and wanted to deflect the topic since Ron really didn't need a more damaging world view but luckily she was saved by Professor Flamel, walking in slowly but steady.

"I'll tell you another time." She whispered and straightened her parchment. Harry gently took away Dawn's quill, knowing she would be a distraction otherwise. The small bird pouted at him and he stroked her back in apology.

Professor Flamel took her time reaching the desk, pulled out her wand and then she conjured a comfy looking armchair. She sat down and started talking in a surprisingly strong manner.

"I am really sorry, my dears, but my back won't allow me to stand for an entire lesson, so please excuse me sitting. Now, let me introduce myself. I'm Professor Perenelle Flamel. Most of you probably know my husband Nicolas due to his invention of the philosopher stone. So yes, I am around 600 years old, it gets a little hard counting all these years. While I can say that I have a good enough memory, after a few couples of centuries you don't pay much attention if it is one year or two really. Now, I am here to teach you the history of magic, since Professor Binns has finally found peace and moved on."

She folded her hands in her lap and smiled at them. Her white hair was short and her long skirts shuffled a little.

"Now, I do understand you have learned quite a bit on the goblin and giant side of history, so I am a little sad to tell you, that I am not very versed in their history. So I will teach human or better yet, witch and wizarding history." Most students raised their heads at this. It could be interesting.

Professor Flamel smiled again, straightening her glasses.

"Now, why do we learn history? History is everything, from the Ancient Egyptians to what happened in this class last year. History takes all events it can to give us a clear image of the past. Because we need to know where we come from to know where we go. It will help us determine what is a good decision and what is not. You all know this. Every one of you has run outside and fallen down. It hurt. And this history taught you not to run everywhere."

At this moment, the door opened and Dean Thomas murmured of sorry ran inside. Professor Flamel nodded.

"Or not." She said with a chuckle. Then she sat a little straighter.

"But there is something very important in this field and that is context. Without context, you can't take everything into account. Like for example, it is very likely that Godric Gryffindor, a highly revered person of our history had a great dislike for French people. Now you would say why would he do that? Well the reason is, back when he was living the wars between France and Britain was long and brutal and Godric fought in three of them. Would you hold it against him that he had a dislike for his enemies? Also, it was quite popular back then to hate the French. Is it that strange to act according to your time's way? You can call this context of time. We have to look at a person's actions in context to those times beliefs and habits. Only then can we be fair towards that person. But there are other contexts. Let's try it this way. Who is the darkest lord in all of history?"

Quiet fell over the room while the students, still of balance due to this totally different way of teaching history. After a while, Hermione raised her hand.

Professor Flamel smiled at her and pointed.

"Yes, love, and please tell me your name."

Hermione nodded, looking over at Harry for a moment.

"Hermione Granger Mrs Flamel. I would say the darkest lord was you-know-who."

Pernelle Flamel smiled warmly at her and nodded.

"Yes, my dear you could argue that he was the darkest lord in our history, even though this fear of his name is rather blown out of proportion if you ask me. Of course, he terrorized this country for many years and the scars of his reign of terror are still in the hearts and minds of everyone here. Some even quite literally." She looked over to Harry's forehead who petted his familiar. She turned back to the podium.

"But, this is in the context of a British world view and also of our time. An alternative would be Gellert Grindelwald. His reign lasted longer than Voldemort's," Most students sucked in air in surprise, not that Professor Flamel paid any mind to it. "And he had far more supporters. You could say he set Europe on fire when he worked together with the Axis powers in World War 2, the muggle equivalent of the Grindelwald War. He worked with the leader of the Nazi-Movement, Adolf Hitler, in an effort to spread chaos and disaster. We know today that his plan was to let the muggles destroy themselves and then take over. Luckily for us all, Albus stopped him and helped bring him down in their infamous duel. Most people on the continent would agree with this assessment. They would say, he was the darkest Lord of all time. There is some debate whether Grindelwald or our own last Dark Lord was stronger. Grindelwald is renowned as the better duelist, while the man to whose name everybody flinches had a vast knowledge of the dark arts. Who can say which one was more evil?

I for one would argue that Balthasar of York was the darkest lord of history, a name most of you probably never even heard, but I lost my sister to his reign over six hundred years ago, so... I am not really neutral on this topic." Her mood got dark for a moment, remembering the smile and the warm feeling of Juspina's fingers. For centuries now she couldn't remember really what her sister looked like or what her voice had sounded like. It had been lost in the fog of a life that was measured in decades not years, but still to this day she held on to the feeling of her hands and was it was like smiling with her. For a moment it got quiet then she raised her head.

"I'm sorry, this is a dark topic for me. Like the now Blood War called conflict is for quite a few of you, I think. But that is exactly the point. We have to acknowledge our emotions towards a topic before we can look at it and see it in the context of our own feelings."

She waved her wand and pointed it at the board.

"Now, we start at the beginning of the British Wizarding society, the founding of the council by Merlin. King Arthur had ordered the Grand Warlock to form a governing system for the wizarding world. This..."

Ron sighed while his quill flew over the parchment, trying to keep up with the huge amount of information.

This would be a long day.

The fourth-year Gryffindors were eagerly talking about the content of their last class. Only once before had a history of magic lesson been an eagerly discussed topic and that had been two years ago, when Binns had talked briefly about the Chamber of Secrets. But this was something new. Professor Flamel, even though she spoke rather quietly had been a really interesting teacher. She spoke in length and detail about the formation of the Wizarding Council but also put it in perspective with the modern Ministry of Magic. It had been really interesting and quite frankly even a bit funny. The entire class was sitting and discussing, while the Slytherins sat in the back of their defence classroom. The only exception like so often was Daphne Greengrass and her friend Tracey Davis, who were sitting in the front row.

Suddenly a purple beam shot out of the adjoined office, hitting Neville Longbottom and forcing his hands straight to the side of his body, while the boy let out a yelp of surprise.

"CONSTANTE VIGILANCE!" roared Moody, while he stomped into the room, his wooden and metal leg making a loud thudding noise with every step. The entire room was quiet like a church waiting for the sermon, while the professor grumpy moved to the desk. None were too surprised but knew not to stir the professor. Every lesson started with him cursing someone and up until now even though they knew, the never got to the point where anyone could evade the curse yet. The scarred professor turned and took a swig from his flask, before turning back.

"So, I see you have all had your first encounter with professor Flamel. Don't trust her!" He rumbled out loudly, making all of them flinch. Hesitant, Dean Thomas raised his hand. The grumpy professor just nodded.

"Why sir?" Dean asked unsurely. Moody stomped over, staring down at him.

"Because you shouldn't trust anyone. Not me, not her not anyone. Trust is an invitation for betrayal! Her being old doesn't make her less dangerous! Dumbledore is older than most and still the most dangerous wizard on earth! So don't trust her, just because she has replaced Binns boring classes with something more fun. The enemy will lure you in with something like that. CONSTANTE VIGILANCE!" He roared again, making all of them flinch. He then switched his wand, finally releasing Neville's arms. Moody stomped back to the front, then stopped and turned.

"You want to learn history? Fine, we will do history. There are three Curses that have been outlawed before every other. Only three!" He held up his hand waving it back and forth. "Can anyone tell me what these are named?" He stared into the room, while his magical eye swirled around. Two hands rose and Moody pointed at Daphne.

"Yes, Greengrass." He snarled, his normal eye focused on her. Daphne sat straight and unmoving.

"The Unforgivable Curses, Sir." She said with a firm but careful voice. Moody nodded gruffly, shouting.

"Correct! The Unforgivable Curses! Spells so powerful that using even one on even one fellow wizard is a direct ticket to Azkaban for life! The ministry says you are too young to learn about these. Nonsense I say! Your enemy will not care about your age, he will fight you no matter what. You have to know what is out there to understand what is it about, to be prepared. You need to know to fight it. Now, who can tell me one huh? Anyone?"

For a moment it was quiet then a hand rose.

"The Imperius Curse, sir." Ron said with a quivering voice. Moody nodded stepping closer.

"Correct Mr Weasley. Imperius. Your father and I had a lot of trouble back in the day with this one."He was staring at them with intense eyes, now both of them focused on the students.

"Imperius. A Curse that would give you total control over another person's actions. What they do, what they say, everything! It is a strong weapon in the hands of those who know what to do with it." He waved his wand and from the corner of the room, a spider was zooming into his hand.

"Engorgio." Moody muttered and the spider was growing in size until it was about as big as a toad. The now large creature was struggling and thrashing, trying to get free from Moody's grip. The old Auror pointed his wand again and spook loud and clearly.

"Imperio!"

The thrashing and struggling of the spider stopped in an instant it was sitting at his outstretched hand completely still. Moody looked at the class slowly raising his eyes.

"What do you want me to let her do? Dance?"

The spider jumped on its hind legs and started tap dancing.

"Making it start doing push-ups?" Moody said with an intense voice and when he said it, the spider started doing a pushup on his stretched out hand. Some in the class snorted laughter.

"Backflips?" And again the spider did a backflip at his command. Now the entire class was laughing and smiling. Moody got an ugly grin.

"Funny right? How would you feel when it was done to you huh? Trapped in your body, with no control what so ever?" The man growled his words and suddenly it got really quiet.

"I could make her jump out of the window or drown herself with a smile on her face and this spider couldn't do anything against it." The entire class stared at him suddenly all the actions weren't funny anymore. Slowly Moody stopped the spider's dance and lifted his wand. For all of them, it looked like the spider was shaking and shivering.

"Problematic spell. Back in the day, many people claimed they only did the Dark Lords bidding because they were subject to this exact curse. But!" He raised his finger pointing slowly at the students. "How do we know who really was under Imperius and who were lying?" The silence after his words was ominous and people looked at each other. While Moody looked at the class, his human eye wandering, his magical was focused on just one blond boy in the back of the class.

"It can be thrown off and I will teach you how, but it is not easy. It demands true strength of character and will and most don't have that. But we will see."

He stepped back, picking up the spider again.

"Now who knows another one?" The professor asked, holding the spider ready in his hand. Slowly a few hands rose unsure. One of these hands belonged to a dark-haired slightly chubby boy. Moody looked over to him.

"Longbottom is it?" He asked and the boy nodded. He looked a little unsure when with a wave of his hand professor Moody signalled him to stand up.

"Professor Sprout tells me you have an eye for Herbology, right?" The professor Asked and again, Neville slowly nodded.

"I might have a book for you later. Now back to my question before?" Professor Moody asked slowly, staring at the standing Neville.

"The C-Crutiatus Curse, Sir." Neville stated with a slight shake in his voice. Moody pointed his finger at the boy.

"Correct," Moody said placing the spider on Neville's desk. H raised his eyes but he spoke quietly, almost menacing.

"Very nasty. The torture spell. Without flourish, he pointed his wand at the large spider.

"Crucio!" He said firmly and nothing happened. No spell flew, no sparks. But the spider started screaming. No student had ever thought before that a spider could scream but this poor creature buckled and thrashed shivered and shook and it made this high frequency sounds that sounded much like tiny screams of pure pain and agony. Moody leaned closer, his wand still pointed and licked his lips.

The class stared in horror as the spider squirmed and shivered, still screaming. It felt like darkness had settled over the room until Hermione jumped to her feet.

"STOP IT!" She cried out. Moody lifted his wand looking at the bushy-haired girl. But her eyes weren't on the spider, they were on Neville. The boy had gripped the edge of his desk so hard that his knuckles were as white as his face, while he stared in pure horror at the twitching creature that was on his table.

Harry's felt a big lump in his chest and his fingers moved on their own when the sneaked up and brushed over Dawn's emerging head. He felt a little bit better when she nuzzled his fingers with her small beak, but the lump was still there. Moody straightened his back and looked into them.

"Pain. Simple but terrible. Every fibre of your being suffers the worst pain you can imagine and more." He looked once more down to Neville and nodded firmly before stepping back with the spider. Then he looked at the class.

"There is one left." He said firmly. Slowly one hand rose, shaking.

"The killing curse." Said Hermione with a shaking voice. A day that has begun so fun and interesting had turned really bad now. It felt like dark clouds covered the sky when her foreboding words travelled through the room.

Moody nodded, his eyes now thoughtful.

"Yes. Avada Kedavra, the killing curse. The last and most powerful of the three." He turned and set the spider on the tabletop.

"Avada Kedavra!" He just whispered and with a bolt of green, the shivering spider just stopped moving, dropping dead on the table. Moody started walking through the room.

"There is no counterspell, no way of stopping it once it is fired and every single wizard or witch that was hit by it is dead. Every single one. Except one." He stopped in front of a single boy, that was petting his black familiar with great vigor.

"Somehow the strongest wizard in the entire world fired this curse at a one-year-old child and it killed him instead. No one knows why and how, but happened."

Harry wasn't looking at him. He was focused on Dawn, cuddled against his chest and covered with his hands. The warmth that she was radiating wasn't reaching his core anymore. He felt so cold, thinking that this was it. This was the curse that killed his mother, right before it should have killed him. The last his mom saw was this green beam. For three years now he imagined how his parents had died, in lone moments or late at night. He knew his father had died first, at the stairs. Then Voldemort had stepped into his nursery, where his mother stood in front of his crib. She would beg him to kill her instead of Harry. Voldemort had demanded she would step aside, but his mother had stood her ground, so Voldemort had first killed her and then pointed his wand at Harry...

Moody began speaking again pulling Harry back from his thoughts and into the real world again, away from memories that would be woken every time he was near a dementor.

"Avada Kedavra is the deadliest curse there ever was, yet it was shot at me only twice in my entire career. Can anyone guess why?" Every student just stared at him, still in shock and unnerved. Moody shook his head.

"For one, it needs real power to use this spell. You all could get out your wands right now and utter the words, but I would not drop dead. Only a few are strong enough to even use the spell and those who do exhaust the spell quite a bit. So it would be a bad idea to use it in a real fight. Also while the spell in off itself is simple, the beam moves rather slow. So other than on close range it is actually quite easy to dodge. Not a good choice in combat." Moody stepped back from Harry's desk and returned to the front of the classroom.

"Now, why do I show you this spell if it is unlikely you will see it and can't do much except dodging. Because you have to know! You have to see it with your own eyes, to understand, really understand! Constant Vigilance!" He called out once more. He then leaned a little closer.

"But on a side note and a rather unknown fact, can anyone of you guess who invented this curse?" Again silence fell onto the room while Moody looked around.

"No one? All right. You would think it was some dark wizard or evil lord, but we know that this curse was developed by none other than Helga Hufflepuff herself. Of course, the founder didn't create it for humans but instead to kill livestock painless and quick." He returned to the board and wrote 'Intent' on the surface.

"Because this is what really defines the darkness of a wizard. His intent! Even a harmless spell-like Aquamenti can be used to drown someone! It is all in the intent."

Moody crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Now, take out your parchment and start writing."

The rest of the class was silent while all made notes on the three Unforgivable Curses and Moody standing brooding in the front, telling them important details about each one of them. Harry sighed.

This would be a long day.