Chapter 26: Cruciatus
"Professor Alastor Moody," the new Defense the Dark Arts teacher read aloud from where he had just scratched his full title onto the blackboard. His voice was low yet deep, giving the classroom a kind of solemn, suspenseful aura previously only seen in Professor Snape's Potions lectures. Comparing this kind of atmosphere to the one showcased by three previous DADA professors in as many years, Neville thought it the most disconcerting one yet.
"Ex-Auror," Moody emphasized, to the surprise of some students. Hermione's bushy brown hair dipped low like a curtain to cover some of her face, as she bent her head to whisper something discreetly to Ron, likely about how she wasn't aware the man was retired. Neville studied the private huddle before turning his attention back to Moody and the blackboard. "Order of Merlin, First Class….. Former member of the Order of the Phoenix." Despite writing all of these accolades on the board in such a manner that would have made Lockhart proud, unlike Lockhart, Moody didn't boast about his past accomplishments. He didn't even bother to explain what the lattermost achievement was. He seemed…. grave, grim. Certainly battle-hardened, with the eye-patch covering one eye.
"Now tell me," Moody spun back to face his pupils, and Neville detected an Irish brogue in the man's timbre, though softer than Seamus's. "How many Unforgivable Curses are there?"
Ever the dutiful student, Hermione politely raised her hand. "Three, sir," her voice soft and measured.
"Good, and why are they called that?"
"Because they are truly unforgivable," Hermione gasped out as if this were self-evident, which it was. "The casting of any one of them would give the user…"
"…. a one way ticket to Az – ka - ban! Correct! Correct!" Moody punctuated every word, punching the air with them in a kind of growl, as though he had a grudge to pick with the very concept of Unforgivable Curses. "So, three curses: can anyone name an Unforgivable Curse for me?"
Ron tentatively raised his hand.
"Weasley."
"Well, my… my brother's a Curse Breaker for Gringotts, and he's seen…. thieves try to stick up the bank with…. Imperius."
"Ahhhhh….." Moody nodded, his only remaining eye swiveling. "Mind control. You have to be particular vigilant against that one, and no doubt that brother of yours is, young'in. But it's more than that!" He turned to the blackboard with a snap. "You have to vigilant against all Dark Magic! You have to be strong! You have to be prepared! You have to find somewhere else to place your gum other than the underside of your desk, Master Finnegan!"
Moody somehow managed to catch Seamus in the very act of spitting out his Drooble's Best Blowing Gum without even turning around, making the Irish lad jerk and gawp. Suddenly, in a fit of rage, Moody whirled about and hurled his piece of chalk straight at Seamus's head, and the young man only just managed to duck in time.
"I WON'T HAVE ANY WEAK LICKSPITTLES IN MY COURSE – 'SPECIALLY NOT ONES DUE TO TAKE THEIR OWLS IN UNDER TWO YEARS' TIME!" Moody bellowed, his one eye literally whirling about in its socket, thereby giving a new meaning to the word 'wild-eyed.' It took the man a few moments of breathing hard before he had calmed himself down. The same couldn't be said for the rest of the class, who were now perpetually on edge – even at his most abusive, Snape had never taken things this far, and his abuse was of the more verbal variety. But chucking chalk at a student's head? Neville resolved to sit completely still and not miss one wretched word.
Moody was now tucking something out of his coat pocket. When he opened his fingers, Ron barely refrained from letting out a shriek. He squirmed in his chair in what looked like an attempt to leap into Hermione's lap, before he thought better of it and merely gripped at the table like a lifeline instead.
Moody didn't seem to notice or care about the deep fear his introduction of a spider had caused in at least one of his students. "This calls for a demonstration!"
At this, Hermione's mouth fell open in shock and she turned to Neville, but he only felt as stunned as she looked. The Unforgivable Curses were considered illegal, even and especially in their very casting. Moody wouldn't actually dare to…..?
But dare the geezer did as he now pointed at the spider and hissed, "Imperio!" Next moment, he was flicking the wand and the spider was following its path, almost like the insect was under remote control. More disturbing still was the almost manic glee on Moody's face at wielding such power. "What shall I make her do, huh? Throw her out the window?" He flung his wand sharply to the left, causing the spider to go sailing and only the glass pane of the window stopped it. "Drown herself?" As everyone watched, the spider dangled in mid-air above a bowl of water and began to bathe itself in the stuff. Neville felt goosebumps alighting his skin; beside him, Hermione was biting her lip so hard, it looked in danger of drawing blood.
Tiring of his version of fun, Moody released the spider from his control, letting it settle back into the palm of his hand.
"Now, many Death Eaters have claimed that they only did You-Know-Who's bidding…. under the influence of the Imperius Curse!" Moody stabbed at the air for emphasis. " 'I was just following orders,' and all that sort of rot! And while some very well may have been Imperiused into committing war crimes, here's the question that I put to you: how do we sort out the liars?"
"Sir?" Ron blinked.
"Oh, come now, Weasley! After the First War, many, many of You-Know-Who's supporters tried insanity defenses, Imperius defenses! You don't think any one of them was total shite? Liars, they were, scores of them! Some of them even managed to trick their way out of it! But all liars – even the best ones – have a tell, and there is a way of…. dragging it out. Which brings me to this: perhaps someone else can name the next Unforgivable?"
To most everyone's surprise, including probably his own, petit Harry Potter raised his hand. Moody took the lad in for a moment. "Yeah, James's boy."
Harry flinched at someone invoking his dad's name. "Well, I read about it in a book once. Cruci…."
"Speak up, lad!"
"Cruciatus….."
"Correct! Correct!" Moody blatted eagerly. "Come…. Come!" He beckoned Harry out of his seat and towards the front of the room until the bespectacled boy was standing before him, the little spider lifted between them and still in Moody's palm. Moody pointed the tip of his wand at it.
"Crucio!"
The spider immediately began to writhe in Moody's palm, twisting and flailing. If the creature had been capable of screaming, it likely would have. Neville wanted to look away, and yet he somehow could not bear to. It may have been just an insect, a bug, but to watch any animal in pain like that….
"Stop it! ….. STOP IT!" Hermione suddenly screamed, near tears. "Can't you see it's bothering him?! Stop it!"
Neville's gaze snapped to where he now noticed Harry trembling like a live wire, and yet seeming frozen stiff all at once. He was panting for air, whimpering, eyes squeezed shut and tight. It was as though he had been tortured along with that poor spider, and from how Hermione had screeched out an intervention, Harry might as well have been.
Despite barely knowing the man, it seemed to Neville remarkable that anyone could get Moody to look anywhere close to chastened. Their professor clopped with his walking stick until he stood directly in front of her.
"Perhaps you would like to tell us the final Unforgivable Curse, Miss Granger?"
Blinking back moisture, her pretty lips pursed, Hermione shook her head defiantly. "Very well….. Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light, and the spider immediately went legs-up, its misery ended.
"The Killing Curse. Only one person is known to have survived it…. and he's sitting in this room."
A shadow passed over him, and it took all of Neville's willpower to meet Moody's looming stare square on.
As they filed out of the classroom in near-uniform silence, Hermione was quaking as hard as Harry had, except her trembling was from sheer outrage.
"That was…. absolutely barbaric!" she spat, livid almost beyond words. "Performing illegal curses in a classroom…. He ought to be fired on the spot! Someone should tell Dumbledore!"
"What, and have him not last the week, never mind the year? Turnover in his position has been bad enough as it is!" Ron murmured, though it was weak, sheepish.
"Honestly, Ron, you can't possibly be defending that…. that…. He's mad! The word is in his nickname, for Merlin's sake!"
"Yeah, but…. he also has an effective track record as an Auror, which very well may extend into his teaching," Ron pointed out. "You can balk at his methods, but…. if there was a point to that lesson, Hermione, Moody certainly made it."
"Lupin made his points clear in his lessons too, and he didn't have to resort to illegal magic!" Hermione bit back, still seething.
"Too right! Give me a Lupin over that nutter any day!" Dean Thomas practically ran the Trio down to pass them on the stair; the poor, dark-skinned boy looked like he was going to hurl.
By a window curved into the staircase tower, Hermione suddenly swayed to a stop, causing the boys to lurch to a halt next to her. "Harry?"
Harry halfway glanced up, sniffling, from where he was being consoled by his good mates, Ginny and Luna. Even the normally sunny Ravenclaw girl had her lips pursed in a flat, somber line. Ginny's red curls tousled as she glanced back at her brother and his friends.
"He doesn't need too many people crowding him right now," she stated, in a gentle attempt to have the Trio move along.
"Potter! …. Potter…" Suddenly, Moody appeared, winded from his descent and looking about as shamefaced as he knew how. That didn't stop Ginny or Hermione from shooting the man hateful glares. "How's about popping up to my office for a gin and tonic? There's something I want to show you, anyway…"
Neville couldn't blame Harry in the slightest for looking unsure. Ginny seemed quite intent on not letting Harry anywhere out of her sight, never mind with this madman. She looked ready to argue the point too, risk of a loss of House points be damned, but Harry's gentle hand on her shoulder made her hold her fire.
The group could only watch Harry ascend back up the stair in Moody's shadow, head bowed, the clop, clop of Moody's walking stick echoing through the staircase in their wake.