A/N: Hi, my name is Jade and I am happy that you have chosen my story to read. I would like to say that I have only a general idea where this is going to so if any of you have ideas feel free to share them with me by PM or a review.
This is a Time Travel Story. This story is AU. It has SLASH. It has underage sex later on. A lot of characters will be OOC.
If you cannot handle this then don't read this.
This will probably have infrequent posts so maybe you should follow it? School started and it is full of different happenings so…
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you can recognize!
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Letters
The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter grey swirled overhead as Harry, Ron, and Hermione examined their new course schedules at breakfast.
"Today's not bad… outside all morning," said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures… damn it, we're still with the Slytherins… "
"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned, looking down. Divination was his least favourite subject.
"You should have given it up like me, shouldn't you?" said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."
"Hey, at least we'll have some time to solve the problem that is black and blue," Ron said darkly.
"I hope you come up with something. For the life of me I don't know," whispered Hermione.
"It's ok 'Mione," Harry said quietly.
There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, Harry looked up, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and grey. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. Suddenly, a majestic black owl entered and glided towards him. It carried two letters. One for him and one for Dumbledore and by instinct he knew that it was Vanmoriel so he took the letters and made the excuse of forgetting something in his rooms.
When he got to a private place he opened the letter addressed to him.
Dear Harry,
I don't know where to start. I guess that I first have to tell you that you should give the Headmaster the letter but in a way that he does not know who it is from or I fear he won't read it.
I know not how you will do it but you must!
Next order of business is our plan. I'm afraid that there is no stopping Voldemort from coming back at the end of this year. I know that it will place your mates in danger, but remember Harry you are a Parselmouth and you are his equal.
Lastly, I will speak of young Draco. I know that it hurts you to see him like that but today in Divination pay attention and you will reach your answer. Your eye is clearer this time around because you are more open to the finer arts of Seeing.
Stay safe my boy,
Vanmoriel, Mistress of Souls
His preoccupation lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable patch until they arrived in greenhouse three, but here he was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants Harry had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid. He really hoped that this would pass quicker than the last time around.
"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -"
"The what?" said Seamus Finnegan, sounding revolted.
"Pus, Finnegan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus. "
Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.
"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples. "
"Like poor Eloise Midgen," said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."
"Silly girl," said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end. "
A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signalling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.
"Mornin'!" Hagrid said, grinning at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this - Blast-Ended Skrewts!"
"Come again?" said Ron and Harry groaned. He forgot about that hellish thing.
Hagrid pointed down into the crates.
"Eurgh!" squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backwards.
"On'y jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"
"And why would we want to raise them?" said a cold voice.
The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Draco Malfoy and Harry could not help but agree with him. They were a menace the last time around and he doubted that his life would be easier this time around.
Hagrid looked stumped at the question.
Harry promptly ignored the rest of the lesson working on automat. The time in the Great Hall passed much the same. He was anxious about Divination.
When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, Harry and Ron set off for North Tower where, at the top of a tightly spiralling staircase, a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling, and the room where Professor Trelawney lived.
The familiar sweet perfume spreading from the fire met their nostrils as they emerged at the top of the stepladder. As ever, the curtains were all closed; the circular room was bathed in a dim reddish light cast by the many lamps, which were all draped with scarves and shawls. Harry and Ron walked through the mass of occupied chintz chairs and poufs that cluttered the room, and sat down at the same small circular table.
"Good day," said the misty voice of Professor Trelawney right behind Harry.
A very thin woman with enormous glasses that made her eyes appear far too large for her face, Professor Trelawney was peering down at Harry with the tragic expression she always wore whenever she saw him. The usual large amount of beads, chains, and bangles glittered upon her person in the firelight.
"You are preoccupied, my dear," she said mournfully to Harry. "My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas… most difficult… I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass… and perhaps sooner than you think… but there might be a solution. "
Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, who looked stonily back. Professor Trelawney swept past them and seated herself in a large winged armchair before the fire, facing the class. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who deeply admired Professor Trelawney, were sitting on poufs very close to her.
"My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars," she said. "The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingle. . . . "
But Harry's thoughts had drifted. The perfumed fire always made him feel sleepy and dull-witted, and Professor Trelawney's rambling talks on fortune-telling never held him exactly spellbound - though he couldn't help thinking about what she had just said to him. "I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass. . . "
"Harry!" Ron muttered.
"What?"
"Draco!"
"Give me until the end of the class."
Half an hour later, each of them had been given a complicated circular chart, and was attempting to fill in the position of the planets at their moment of birth. It was dull work, requiring much consultation of timetables and calculation of angles.
"I've got two Neptunes here," said Harry after a while, frowning down at his piece of parchment, "that can't be right, can it?"
"Aaaaah," said Ron, imitating Professor Trelawney's mystical whisper, "when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, Harry… "
Seamus and Dean, who were working nearby, sniggered loudly, though not loudly enough to mask the excited squeals from Lavender Brown - "Oh Professor, look! I think I've got an unexpected planet! Oooh, which one's that, Professor?"
"It is Uranus, my dear," said Professor Trelawney, peering down at the chart.
Soon, she gave homework.
"A detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart," she snapped, sounding much more like Professor McGonagall than her usual airy-fairy self. "I want it ready to hand in next Monday, and no excuses!"
"Miserable old bat," said Ron bitterly as they joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner. "That'll take all weekend, that will… "
"Lots of homework?" said Hermione brightly, catching up with them. "Professor Vector didn't give us any at all!"
"Well, bully for Professor Vector," said Ron moodily.
"Calm down, Ron. I have the solution."
"How did you find it, Harry?" Hermione asked excitedly.
"By reading two Neptunes."
That's when they reached the entrance hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. They had just joined the end of the line, agreeing to talk about it in private, when a loud voice rang out behind them.
"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.
"What?" said Ron shortly.
"Dad said that I should do some charity work," throwing a parcel at him.
Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him.
"Malfoy, " Harry said in a voice that seemed like anger to anyone else but to his closest it seemed like fear?
"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"
"You know your mother, Malfoy?" said Harry - both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron's robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy - "that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"
Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink.
"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."
"Keep your mouth shut, then," said Harry, turning away. He had hoped to avoid this.
BANG!
Several people screamed - Harry felt something white-hot graze the side of his face - he plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he'd even touched it, he heard a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall. He knew that Draco had missed on purpose and he was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of this thing with his mother. It did help that if he made Lucius divorce her now that he could win him later on.
"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"
Harry spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.
There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry - at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.
"Did he get you?" Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly.
"No," Harry said evenly, "missed."
"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.
"Leave - what?" Ron said, bewildered and honestly angry.
"Not you - him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.
Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.
"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.
"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do. . . "
The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.
"Never - do - that - again -" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.
"Professor Moody!" said a shocked voice.
Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.
"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.
"What - what are you doing?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.
"Teaching," said Moody.
"No, he wasn't," Harry interjected smoothly. "He meddled into mine and Malfoy's rivalry, but he is welcome to explain it."
"Teach - Moody, is that a student?" shrieked Professor McGonagall after realizing what Harry had said.
"Yep," said Moody.
"No!" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.
"First of all, Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall weary. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"
"He might've mentioned it, yeah," said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock -"
"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"
"I'll do that, then," said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.
"No you won't!" McGonagall said angrily. "Every single professor knows not to meddle into this rivalry except to take points or in Professor Snape's case detentions. By grace, Albus made it a rule."
Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words "my father" were distinguishable.
"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, ignoring McGonagall, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father of old, boy… You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son… you tell him that from me… "
Whatever he had wanted to say was stopped because Harry lost it. Draco had not deserved that.
"Malfoy, admit in front of everyone that you've made a truce with us. That what we do is our way of joking," Harry said. It was bold and some would say downright stupid but he really wanted to protect Draco and if being impulsive did that then he would do it happily.
"It is," said Malfoy.
To that Moody reacted by seizing Malfoy's upper arm and marching him off toward the dungeons.
Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then shook her head and looked at Harry. It seemed as if she muttered that something about being proud.
"Don't talk to me," Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by an excited talk on all sides about what had just happened.
"Why not?" said Hermione in surprise.
"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever," said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. "The truce, out in open. "
Harry and Hermione both laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of their plates.
"He could have really hurt Malfoy, though," she said. "It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it -"
"Hermione!" said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again, "you're ruining the best moment of my life! Don't remind me of how much I want to kill Moody!"
"About that, I want to talk to the two of you later. We'll save him. God forbid if his mother called for him before we fix it," said Harry, watching them.
"Of course," said Hermione thickly. "But, the first bathroom for me. Comonnon Room in half an hour?"
Within five minutes, she had cleared her plate and departed. No sooner had she gone than her seat was taken by Fred Weasley.
"Moody!" he said. "How cool is he?"
"Beyond cool," said George, sitting down opposite Fred.
"Supercool," said the twins' best friend, Lee Jordan, sliding into the seat beside George. "We had him this afternoon," he told Harry and Ron.
"Twins!" Harry grouched. "The truce!"
Fred, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning.
"Sorry," said Fred.
"What?!" Lee exclaimed.
"We are giving you a dare. Prank Moody as much as you can" said Ron, leaning forward.
"Magic eye?" asked George impressively.
"Call for Winky. Also, you can ask for any amount of money," said Harry.
"Of course!" The twins said dragging Lee after them.
-o-O-o-
Once the entire Golden Trio was gathered in front of the fireplace, Harry explained his idea.
"I was thinking that we should send Mr Malfoy a letter explaining our behaviour as well as the memory of the event when we found out about it."
"That might work," Hermione said.
"Perhaps if it was Harry's memory, Hermione writing and if we used Pig?" Ron asked.
"Why that way?" asked 'Mione curious.
"It was Harry's idea so he gives the memory as it is something private. Out of the three of us Hermione's handwriting is the only one no one ever dubbed chicken scratch. As for the Pig, it is obvious. Hedwig is too recognizable."
Having the plan worked out, the Trio set to work so they could post it that night. Harry also took the time to write a note that shall accompany Vanmoriel's letter to Dumbledore.
When they finished and everything was sent the Trio settled for a hard night with almost no sleep because of the worry in their minds.
-o-O-o-
Malfoy Manor
Lucius was having a good morning. His wife has been absent for the last few days busy with a shopping spree. He was just about to drink his morning coffee when an overexcited owl zoomed in and settled in front of him. The owl was carrying a vial with silvery liquid and a letter. Curious, and seeing that the owl won't go away, Lucius opened the letter.
Mr Malfoy,
I will be frank because there is no easy way to explain this and the memory provided should be more than enough proof.
As you know, during the Quidditch Cup, there was an attack. During that attack we encountered your son, Draco Malfoy. Now, under normal circumstances or if we were anyone else, we'd assume that he is the one to fault, but we stopped ourselves.
As it is, we made a truce and dare I say it a tentative friendship.
Now, onto the real reason for writing this letter. During the usual Draco-will-harass-us moment at the Hogwarts express we noticed that he wasn't himself. We found out that he was wearing glamour. Bluntly said, he was beaten black and blue. We know that it isn't your fault, but we also know that you can protect him.
In the vial with this letter is the memory of how we found about it. It is infused with a potion so you just need to drink it.
Respectfully and worried,
Harry, Ron and Hermione
Lucius re-read the letter four times before drinking from the vial. Even if it was poison, he loved his son and would risk it.
/Draco Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar. At their arrival Longbottom left.
"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Harry coolly.
"Red hair… what is that?" said Malfoy, pointing at Pigwidgeon's cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the mouldy lace cuff very obvious.
Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.
"Look at this!" said Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle and at seeing that the two left, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety… You leave me with no choice but to let me buy you something that wouldn't abuse my eyes."
"What are you talking about?" snapped Ron.
"I. Will. Buy. You. New. Robes." Malfoy repeated slowly.
"Draco," Harry warned.
"I was truthful," Draco said sighing.
"Are you ok?" Ron asked.
"It's nothing," he muttered.
"Tell us," Hermione said simply.
"As I said, it's nothing."
"Draco!" Harry said with such authority that it surprised everyone in the compartment including him.
At once, Draco lowered glamours that were hiding his face and it appeared black and blue.
"Who did this?" Hissed Ron and Hermione together.
"Was it your father?" Harry asked fearing the answer. He hoped it was not affirmative.
"No. He is on a business trip. If he were here none of this would happen," Draco whispered sadly.
"Did you tell him?" Ron asked gently.
"Like it would change anything!"
"What about a divorce?"
"A Malfoy never divorces," Draco said brokenly and left, leaving the compartment's door ajar.
Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind him that the glass shattered.
"Ron!" said Hermione reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered "Reparo!" and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.
"How the hell are we supposed to fix this?" Ron snarled.
"I don't know," said Hermione quietly.
"When we come to Hogwarts, perhaps we will find something that we can do," Harry whispered from his seat./
After seeing the memory a broken cry for his son escaped Malfoy's lips. A Malfoy will divorce.
Headmaster's office
Albus Dumbledore was woken up from his sleep by an owl pecking onto his window. He got up from his bed and let her in. He noted with amusement that it was Harry's owl. After untying a note and a letter, Albus gave the owl her treats. Sighing he read the note first, reasoning that it was shorter than the letter.
Headmaster,
I'm sorry if Hedwig disturbs you in your sleep, but a friend of mine wrote a letter for you but she was scared that you wouldn't give it a second glance before burning it and forgetting about entirely.
Please read the letter and then judge. She was really worried. It's why I offered to do this for her.
Sincerely,
Harry Potter
After reading it Albus muttered a soft 'Curious' before continuing to read the letter. It was folded a few times and on the front side in a windy writing stood Albus. He opened the letter and started reading it.
Albus,
I don't know where to start. You know me well. We have many things to discuss for which it isn't time yet. It will come but you have to be patient. I need you to trust me like you used to before I took Ari from you.
The Harry Potter that delivered this letter is from the future. That future isn't the one neither I nor he liked and as he is my rightful Master I gave him a second chance in life.
There are many things he must do and he will need your help. The first thing he has to do is obtain the Elder Wand. I know what you are thinking, my friend. The temptation is too great but you must part with it or everything will be doomed. You will call him to your office and give it to him before the Champions are called forth.
Albus, he will have a hard life and he will need all the family he can get. Two of the already adult Weasleys will abandon him as well as his godfather. That's why I have given him two mates that will love him unconditionally once he manages to explain it to them. You will need to help him get his mates Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. Things will get worse before they get better and I pray that he can withstand it.
My friend, he is a Phoenix Born and as you know they mature at fifteen. You will need to explain things to him for I can do only so little.
Hoping you have not burned this letter before you've read it,
Vanmoriel
The letter left Albus sitting in thought and preparing to part with the Wand.
-o-O-o-
That day passed without great incident for Hogwarts, unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. Professor Snape, who seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer, gave Neville detention, and Neville returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads.
"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" said Ron to Harry as they watched Hermione teaching Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the frog guts from under his fingernails.
"Yeah," grumbled Harry. "Moody."
It was common knowledge that Snape really wanted the Dark Arts job, and he had now failed to get it for the fourth year running. Snape had disliked all of their previous Dark Arts teachers, and shown it - but he seemed strangely wary of displaying overt animosity to Mad-Eye Moody. He knew that Snape was avoiding Moody's eye, whether magical or normal.
"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know," Harry said thoughtfully and for once not doubting his assessment. That only made him want to protect the man.
"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad," said Ron, his eyes misting over, "and bounced him all around his dungeon. . . "
"Ron!" Harry growled and with widened eyes Ron apologized almost kicking himself for forgetting Harry's crush on the man.
All of the Gryffindor fourth years, except the Trio, were looking forward to Moody's first lesson so much that they arrived early on Thursday lunchtime and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung. The Trio arrived just as the bell rung.
They hurried into three chairs right in front of the teacher's desk, took out their copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and waited, unusually quiet. Soon they heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.
"You can put those away," he growled, stomping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them. "
They returned the books to their bags.
Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled grey hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swivelled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.
"Right then," he said, when the last person had declared themselves present, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"
There was a general murmur of assent while Harry bristled knowing what was coming.
"But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses," said Moody. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark -"
"What, aren't you staying?" Ron blurted out.
Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled - the 'first' time Harry had seen him do so. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he ever did anything as friendly as a smile. Ron looked deeply relieved.
"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody said. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago… Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favour to Dumbledore… One year, and then back to my quiet retirement. "
Harry snorted at that.
"So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking. "
Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk.
"So… do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"
Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including the Trio's. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender.
"Err," said Ron tentatively, "my dad told me about one… Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"
"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse. "
Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Harry felt Ron recoil slightly next to him - Ron hated spiders.
Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered emotionlessly and Hermione shuddered, "Imperio!"
The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backwards and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.
Everyone was laughing - everyone except Moody and the Trio. Ron and Hermione looked like stone statues while Harry openly bristled.
"Think it's funny, do you?" he growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"
The laughter died away almost instantly.
"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, and throw itself down one of your throats. . . "
Ron, surprisingly, didn't even twitch. Harry liked this Ron better, he had to admit.
"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," said Moody, and Harry knew he was talking about the days in which Voldemort had been all-powerful and that made him remember the future he hoped to avoid at any cost. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. "
"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, and everyone jumped except Harry. He just raised his eyebrow.
Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.
"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"
Hermione's hand flew into the air again and, to Harry's slight surprise, Neville's did not.
"Yes?" said Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Hermione.
"There's one - the Cruciatus Curse," said Hermione in a matter-of-fact voice.
"The Cruciatus Curse," said Moody. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"
The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretence, Ron pushed his chair backwards, as far away from Moody's desk as possible.
Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "Crucio!"
At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Harry was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently -
"Stop it!" Hermione said shrilly.
Harry looked around at her. She was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville, and Harry, following her gaze, saw that Neville's hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, and his eyes wide and horrified. Harry was ready to kill this man. First Draco and now Neville. He decided to stop Dementors from Kissing him. That would be too merciful.
Moody raised his wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.
"Reducio," Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.
"Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse. . . . That one was very popular once too. "
"Right. . . anyone know any others?"
Harry looked around. From the looks on everyone's faces, he guessed they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. This time, it was only him that raised the hand.
"Yes?" said Moody, looking at him.
"Avada Kedavra," Harry said stonily.
Several people looked uneasily around at him, not including Ron this time.
"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. "Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra… the Killing Curse. "
He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface.
Moody raised his wand, and Harry felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.
"Avada Kedavra!" Moody roared.
There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backwards and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him.
Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.
"Not nice," he said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me. "
Harry felt his face redden as Moody's eyes (both of them) looked into his own. He could feel everyone else looking around at him too. Harry stared at the Moody and said.
"I see. It's nice to know that our new DADA Professor has it in for me; reminding me about my parent's death," Harry said coldly and some of his classmates shuddered.
The silence was great for a while.
Moody was speaking again, from a great distance, it seemed to Harry. With a massive effort, he pulled himself back to the present and listened to what Moody was saying.
"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.
"Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared, and the whole class jumped again.
"Now… those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills… copy this down… "
They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang - but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices - "Did you see it twitch?" "- and when he killed it - just like that!"
They were talking about the lesson, Harry thought, as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, but he hadn't found it very entertaining - and nor, it seemed, had Hermione or Ron.
"Hurry up," she said tensely to Harry and Ron.
"Not the ruddy library again?" said Ron.
"No," said Hermione curtly, pointing up a side passage. "Neville and also I have a not from the senior."
Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.
"Neville?" Hermione said gently.
Neville looked around.
"Oh hello," he said, his voice much higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm - I'm starving, aren't you?"
"Neville, are you all right?" said Hermione.
"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what's for eating?"
Ron gave Harry a startled look.
"Neville, what -?"
But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All four of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than they had yet heard.
"It's all right, sonny," he said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on…we can have a cup of tea… "
Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye to Harry.
"Neville, come to talk to me," said Harry defiantly.
Neville came, but they did not talk. He only shot Harry a thankful look before leaving.
"What was that about?" said Ron, watching Neville turn the corner.
"I don't know," said Hermione, looking pensive.
"Neville's parents were tortured into insanity," Harry said shortly.
Ron wanted to say something but he fell suddenly silent at the look on Harry's face and didn't speak again until they reached the Great Hall, when he said he supposed they had better make a start on Professor Trelawney's predictions tonight, since they would take hours.
After eating they left for the Common Room. The Fat Lady swung forward to reveal the entrance hole, and they climbed into the Gryffindor common room, which was crowded and noisy.
"Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?" said Harry.
"I s'pose," Ron groaned.
"The note first," said Hermione.
She opened it and the three read it silently.
Golden Trio,
Thank you. I will solve it and a Malfoy will divorce.
Lucius Malfoy
It was short but it told them that they have accomplished what they needed to.
The two boys went up to the dormitory to fetch their books and charts, to find Neville there alone, sitting on his bed, reading. They left him to it.
Harry and Ron took their copies of Unfogging the Future back down to the common room, found a table, and set to work on their predictions for the coming month. An hour later, they had made very little progress, though their table was littered with bits of parchment bearing sums and symbols, and Harry's brain was as fogged as though it had been filled with the fumes from Professor Trelawney's fire.
"I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean," he said, staring down at a long list of calculations.
"You know," said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, "I think it's back to the old Divination standby."
"What - make it up?"
"Yeah," said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write.
"Next Monday," he said as he scribbled, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." He looked up at Harry. "You know her - just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up."
"Right," said Harry, crumpling up his first attempt and lobbing it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. "Okay…on Monday, I will be in danger of - err- burns."
"Yeah, you will be," said Ron darkly, "we're seeing the skrewts again on Monday. Okay, Tuesday, I'll…erm… "
"Be flayed alive in Potions," said Harry smirking.
"Good one," said Ron, copying it down. "Because of… erm…Mercury. Why don't you end up wearing Dumbledore's clothes to Dursley's funeral?"
"Yeah… cool… " said Harry, scribbling it down, "because… Venus is in the twelfth house. "
"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight."
"Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet. "
"Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight… "
They continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while the common room around them slowly emptied as people went up to bed. Crookshanks wandered over to them, leapt lightly into an empty chair, and stared inscrutably at Harry, rather as Hermione might look if she knew they weren't doing their homework properly.
Staring around the room, trying to think of a kind of misfortune he hadn't yet used, Harry saw Fred and George sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together, quills out, poring over a single piece of parchment. It was most unusual to see Fred and George hidden away in a corner and working silently; they usually liked to be in the thick of things and the noisy centre of attention. He wondered whether it had anything to do with entering the Triwizard Tournament. He hoped not.
Then George looked over and saw Harry watching him. Harry grinned and quickly returned to his predictions - he didn't want George to think he was eavesdropping. Shortly after that, the twins rolled up their parchment, said good night, and went off to bed.
Fred and George had been gone ten minutes or so when the portrait hole opened and Hermione climbed into the common room carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other. Crookshanks arched his back, purring.
"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"
"So have I!" said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill.
Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.
"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically as Crookshanks curled up in her lap.
"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned.
"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.
"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."
"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" said Hermione.
"How dare you!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"
Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"It's just an expression," said Ron hastily.
Harry laid down his quill too, having just finished predicting his own death by decapitation.
"Hedwig!" he shouted, and he launched himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window.
Hedwig flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's predictions.
"About time!" said Harry, hurrying after her.
"She's got an answer!" said Ron excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg.
Harry hastily untied it and sat down to read, whereupon Hedwig fluttered onto his knee, hooting softly.
"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.
The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry. Harry read it aloud:
Harry -
I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumours that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore - they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.
I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry.
Sirius
Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione, who stared back at him.
"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming back?"
"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" said Ron, looking perplexed. "Harry - what's up?"
For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist, jolting Hedwig out of his lap.
"I shouldn't've told him!" Harry said furiously.
"What are you on about?" said Ron in surprise.
"It's made him think he's got to come back!" said Harry, now slamming his fist on the table so that Hedwig landed on the back of Ron's chair, hooting indignantly. "Coming back, because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me! And I haven't got anything for you," Harry snapped at Hedwig, who was clicking her beak expectantly, "you'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food."
Hedwig gave him an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing him around the head with her outstretched wing as she went.
"Harry," Hermione began, in a pacifying sort of voice.
"I'm going to bed," said Harry shortly. "See you in the morning. "
Upstairs in the dormitory he pulled on his pyjamas and got into his four-poster, but he didn't feel remotely tired.
He heard Ron come up into the dormitory a short while later, but did not speak to him. For a long time, Harry lay staring up at the dark canopy of his bed. The dormitory was completely silent, and, had he been less preoccupied, Harry would have realized that the absence of Neville's usual snores meant that he was not the only one lying awake.