The next morning, Frisk found her siblings already in the Great Hall when she made her way down for breakfast. Chara reached over her cereal to hand Frisk a piece of folded parchment. Frisk nodded at her, then headed to the staff table to give Chara's question to Dumbledore. He read it briefly, folded it back up, and smiled back. "I will see she receives an answer."
"Thank you, headmaster," Frisk said, heading back to the Gryffindor table to get food for herself.
Asriel was talking excitedly with one of his first year classmates. "We've our first flying lesson today. I can't wait!" It was good to see he was making friends in his own year.
But Frisk no longer had that class. Instead, she had an extra session of Defense against the Dark Arts today. "You'll have to tell me how that goes," she told her brother. "You can't really be a worse flier than I am," Asriel grinned at her. "And I'm expecting to hear how well Chara does. You want to be on the team next year, right?" Chara looked up at the table at the older students, turned scarlet, and didn't say anything. "Oh, you'll be fine. You can't be a worse flier than I am either," Frisk said.
They separated, the first years were going to their first taste of charms, while Frisk was going to be joining the Hufflepuffs for herbology. She caught up with Opal on their way into Greenhouse #2, and they chatted about their first day before being assigned to pacify baby mandrakes. The heavy ear protection they were forced to wear kept conversation to a minimum.
But it was that afternoon's class that Frisk had been quietly dreading. It was to be her first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with the new teacher. The other Gryffindor second years had mostly arrived early. The rumors going up and down the line were that Professor Moody had been involved in the first Wizarding War against Voldemort, and that he knew what it was like to be on the front line of battle.
Taking an empty seat in the middle of the class, Frisk found herself next to Romilda Vane, something she normally would have avoided. But Romilda wasn't gossiping in in class today. She was too busy listening to the drag-thump coming down the hallway, as Professor Moody came in the class, shutting the door behind him.
The second time had not made his appearance any more normal. Frisk smiled up at him, determined not to be put off by the magical eye, rolling around in his head. If she'd judged by appearances, she'd never have made it out of the underground. He thumped his way (as Frisk realized he had a wooden leg) to the lectern in front of the class and eyed them for a second. "Put your books away," he growled, his voice low and somewhat guttural. "You won't be needing them." Then he called roll, as the normal eye met each student in turn.
"According to Mr. Lupin, you all have had a thorough grounding in mischievous and dark creatures," his magical eye scanned the class. "But not so much on what wizards can do to each other. I can't start where I'd like to start. The ministry says you're too young, and I haven't got Dumbledore to sign off on it yet. Next week, I hope. Instead, do any of you know a spell that you can use protect yourself?"
He surveyed the class, but nobody raised their hand. "Hmph. Didn't think so. You're probably a bit young for the shield charm. So, I'll start with that dueler's favorite, the disarming jynx." He smiled, and it twisted up his face even more, "It doesn't get anyone hurt, so the ministry doesn't mind." He looked around. "So, now I need a volunteer." And again, nobody raised their hand until finally, Frisk did so.
"Good," he said, his normal eye going to the list on the lectern, while the magical eye focused on Frisk. "Dreemurr... Frisk, right?" he asked.
"That's me, professor," Frisk confirmed.
"Then draw your wand, Ms. Dreemurr, and stand just there," he said. And, before Frisk could so much as dodge, Professor Moody drew his wand, pointed it at Frisk and called out, "Expelliarmus!" all in one smooth motion. Frisk's wand flew up in the air, where the professor reached up and caught it.
"Imagine a dark wizard who now has you at his mercy!" Moody shouted, causing Frisk to step back in alarm. "And that's why you need Constant Vigilance! But, it's also a good spell you can use on opposing wizards to render them harmless without hurting them. Divide into pairs and prepare to practice," He instructed, waiting for them to do so.
It took Frisk a few goes before she got good at the motion, and then there was the trick of aiming the disarming ray. Maybe there was something to Undyne's advice about bows. Romilda was taking time to learn it too, but she was far more focused in class than Frisk had seen her before. And she scored the first true hit, sending Frisk's wand flying into the air a second time, then clattering on the floor.
Frisk caught on, eventually, and by the end of the lesson, she was making Romilda's wand fly as well, and they continued until the bell rang.
Frisk arrived first to the Great Hall for dinner. She was in midst of some baked potato when Asriel and Chara sat next to her. "So how was flying?" Frisk asked as they sat down, "Was it everything you had hoped for?"
"It was amazing, Frisk," Chara said, and her eyes were shining. "It was like being able to leave everything that ever happened behind on the ground.
"It was Frisk," Asriel agreed. "And I can't wait to do it again. Madam Hooch says we have some natural talent!"
"Chara Dreemurr?" asked a Ravenclaw with a prefect badge. Frisk recognized him, it was the same one who had escorted down to the hospital wing after Cormac had broken her shin. Chara looked up, and took the note that he offered her. She unfolded it, and Frisk watched the enthusiasm drain from her face.
"Dumbledore wants to see me," Chara said. "After dinner tonight."
"Would you like us to go with you?" Asriel asked. "If..."
"No," Chara said, shaking her head. "I'll be okay. I know, Frisk, I can trust him."
That evening, Chara Dreemurr walked through the second floor corridor, alone. She spotted the gargoyle that concealed the Dumbledore's office, and stopped. What was she about to learn? She stood there long enough that the gargoyle took note. "Are you here to see headmaster? Or join the statues?"
"Oh," said Chara, "Milky way?"
"Indeed," the gargoyle said, leaping aside to reveal the stairs. Chara nodded, and began to climb them.
The first thing Chara noticed in the professor's study was the phoenix. She had loved animals, before the fall, and she had had more than one book on the fantastic beasts of the world. And phoenixes were so rarely found as companions. So far as she knew, there was only one other companion phoenix in the world, a mascot for a New Zealand quidditch team. She had met him once before, kind of. But to see it with her own eyes was amazing.
Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, examining a stack of letters with a very slight amount of distaste. He looked up, and his face adopted a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Ms. Dreemurr," he told Chara. "I received your note, so how can I help you this evening?"
"Do you know who I am?" she asked.
Professor Dumbledore cocked his head in curiosity. "You are Chara Dreemurr, an adopted daughter of Asgore and Toriel Dreemurr." He studied Chara for a moment. "That is who you are. Are you concerned about who you were?"
Chara sat down on the guest chair across the desk, "Yes. Do you know the name I had before I fell down Mt. Ebott? Did my parents tell you my birth name?"
Dumbledore folded his fingers on his desk, looking intently at Chara. "They had not," he told her. "But Professor Snape recognized you. I feel somewhat bad for him. He ended last term thinking he was seeing a ghost, and he seems to have started this term the same way. At least this time, he saw who he thought he saw."
"He hid it well," Chara said. He had, if she hadn't looked him right in the eyes, and seen them go wide, she wouldn't have realized she had been recognized.
"So I sent an owl to your parents last evening, to confirm that Snape was correct in who he thought you were. I got a response back today. I do not believe they wanted to tell me, but they did." The kindly smile reappeared on his face. "As of right now, the only people who know are me and Professor Snape. I would like, with your permission, to advise your head of house, Professor McGonagall. I assure you that none of them will mention your heritage to anyone else."
"What about the auror, Professor Moody?" Chara asked. "Was he involved in capturing my parents?"
Dumbledore shook his head, "No, he was not. I am reasonably certain he will have no idea who you are. And I understand why you would want to keep it that way," The intent look came back into his eyes. "But it is not healthy to run away from the past like this. It is part of you, and will always be." Chara flinched, breaking her gaze. Dumbledore didn't speak again until she'd wiped her eyes dry. "Your parents wanted to emphasize how much you had changed, and that is good. But it may help other people to know who you were."
"I'm not that person anymore, professor," Chara said. "And I never will be again."
"In any event," Dumbledore said, letting the matter drop. "You do not need to worry about your connection to known Death Eaters becoming common knowledge. Your secret is safe with us, and your family," he held out a hand, palm up. "Does that make you feel better?"
Chara took a deep breath. Part of her had been afraid she was about to be kicked out. "It does, Headmaster," she said, taking the hand, and allowing it to shake hers. "It does. And I guess you can tell Professor McGonagall, if you have to,"
"Excellent! Now, I saw how you admired Fawkes. Let me introduce you to him."
The weekend had come at last, and though the group had noticeably swelled, they still met at the main entrance of the castle just after lunch. Opal, Ginny, and Luna were all there. Steven Marsh had joined them, as had Asriel and Chara. (She'd partnered up with Steven in potions again, much to the irritation of many of her Gryffindor year mates.) "Some flying practice?" Frisk asked, grinning. It was going to be her first real chance to try out the broom she'd gotten last Christmas.
"Actually," Opal said. "I thought we could go for a run first." Frisk stared at her. To Frisk's horror, she seemed completely serious.
"What?" Ginny asked, "A run? Like a muggle would?"
"It was how we would always start rugby practice," Opal said. "My dad thinks it's a good way to keep in shape, since we don't have physical education. C'mon! Two laps around the castle! You want to be quidditch players, right?"
"Not particularly," Frisk mumbled, but Opal had taken off, and Ginny, Asriel, and Chara had already gone after her. It was really more of a jog than a run. At least it felt far less urgent than the last time Frisk ran. It wasn't like they had an upset fish monster wielding an endless supplies of force spears chasing them. Frisk, and most of the others, were winded by the end of it. Only Opal seemed unscathed. Frisk had a mental image of skeleton in a 'Jogboy' t-shirt.
"See?" Opal told them. "You should do this every day and build up some endurance." Frisk, and she didn't think she was alone, gave Opal a very skeptical eye. "Alright, alright, how about we grab a quaffle and throw it around for a while?"
That was much more fun. Frisk still wasn't the most agile of fliers, and frankly, neither was Luna. But Asriel and Chara had taken to the skies with gusto, like they'd been doing this all their lives, and were having a blast. And that made it worth it. This time, there wasn't any Quidditch teams to kick them off, either. So they spent most of the afternoon soaking up what was left of the summer sun, knowing it would turn cold all too quickly.
After dinner, it was time to try to catch up on homework and write letters home. Tomorrow, Frisk planned to resume her assistance with Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing.
Frisk was much more relaxed when Defense rolled back around the next week. She sat in the same desk as before. And again, Professor Moody heralded his presence with the dragging thump of his wooden leg.
"Put your books away for now, you won't need them," Moody growled. "I've gotten permission from the headmaster to show you what I wanted to last week. The fourth and fifth years handled it, so now it's your turn. Last week, I mentioned how you didn't want a dark wizard to get unguarded spells on you, and now I'm going to show you why."
Frisk felt a chill go down her spine.
"Do people know about the curses so dark, the ministry has labeled them unforgivable? There are three of them," Moody asked. He scanned the classroom for a raised hand and spotted one. "Keith... Masterson."
"The torture curse," he said. "Cruciatus?"
Moody nodded. "You have parents who work at St. Mungo's don't you? Yeah, you'd have heard of that one." The professor stepped behind his desk, opened a drawer. From the drawer, he pulled out a jar containing three large, brown spiders.
Frisk's eyes went wide as she watched Moody pull one of the spiders out, setting it on his desk. "You need to see this, so it'll need to be a bit bigger," he pointed his wand, "Engorgio!" The spider grew, and to Frisk's distress, it now looked like one of the spiders that she'd encountered in the underground, one of Muffet's family. Then the professor pointed his wand a second time. "Cruico!"
At once, the spider's legs buckled, and the spider rolled onto its side. It waved its legs madly in the air, and Frisk could feel its soul crying in pain, crying for mercy. "Please!" she cried out. "Please stop!"
Glancing at her, Moody did so. "Worse than thumbscrews and more portable than a rack. Was popular when You Know Who was trying to rise in power. People broke when his followers put that on him. Pain and Fear can make you do a lot of things that you'd never have done otherwise." He considered the still twitching spider. "Reducio," he said, putting the spider back in the jar. "Does anyone know either of the other two?"
Laura Johnson very slowly put her hand up. "My cousin mentioned one. A mind control spell. I don't remember the name."
"The Imperius curse," confirmed Moody. He took a second spider from the jar, leveled his wand, and growled, "Imperio!" The spider froze momentarily, then began swaying to music only it could hear. It leaped from Moody's hand onto the desk, landing in a perfect somersault. Then it rose onto its hind legs into what absolutely had to be a tap dance.
Nearly everyone in the room was laughing, the only two people who weren't were Frisk and Moody himself. "Complete control," he said softly, and the laughter ceased abruptly. "A dark wizard puts this on you, and you'll attack people for him. Or her. Friends, loved ones. Or you might be asked to jump out that fourth story window without a broom. And you'd do it, too. Constant vigilance."
He put the spider away. "Cruciatus can be resisted. And you can fight the imperius curse too. Maybe I'll give you a crack at that, later this year. But there's still a third unforgivable curse. And you might dodge it, you might get behind something solid enough to take it. But there's no countercurse, there's no resisting it. Anyone know what it is?"
Nobody answered, nobody knew. Frisk actively didn't want to know.
"The killing curse," was Moody's answer. The third spider dodged around in the jar, trying to avoid Moody's grabbing hand. When he placed it on the desk, the spider tried to run for it, sprinting towards the edge of the desk, and safety.
But it didn't make it. Moody pointed his wand.
"No! Don't!" shouted Frisk.
"Avada Kedavaa!" roared Moody, and there was a flash of green light, and a roaring sound. And the spider simply stopped moving. Completely, unmistakably, dead.
The only sound in the room was Frisk crying.
"Frisk?" Wendy Wilcox had turned around to look at her. "Are you going to be alright?"
Frisk looked up at Professor "Mad-Eye" Moody. "You're a murderer," she said, through a face full of tears.
A/N: A couple people have asked me questions in their reviews. I'd like to answer them, but I can only do so if FF.N private messages are turned on.
