A/N: Essentially, what you recognize belongs to the goddess that is J.K. Rowling, and what you don't belongs to insignificant little me.
•~0~•
Fred, George, and Genevieve made their way to their usual compartment, the twins grumbling about nobody telling them anything. Lee and Katie were already waiting for them. Genevieve slid into the seat next to Katie, who was already immersed in her books for the year.
"Excited for O.W.L. year?" Genevieve teased.
Katie scowled. "Don't remind me."
She laughed. "Don't worry; as long as you study, they're really not bad, and you only have to make an E on most of them to proceed to N.E.W.T. level anyway. Except for Potions, of course."
Everyone in the compartment made a face.
"I'm so glad we got to drop Snape this year," Fred said, George and Lee nodding enthusiastically behind him.
"And with all our free time, we can work on the joke shop. We're developing treats to help you skive off class, but we need a name."
There was silence for a moment as everyone concentrated.
"Are there going to be different types?" Lee asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, lots of sicknesses can help you get out of class. Fainting . . ."
"Nosebleeds . . ." Genevieve contributed.
"Fever . . ." Katie said without looking up from her book.
"That's brilliant!" George said. "We can have several different types. We've been focusing mostly on puking, but if we have a variety, we can call them Skiving Snackboxes!"
"Fainting Fancies," Lee provided.
"Nosebleed Nougat," Genevieve offered.
"Fever Fudge." Katie had set down her book now and was looking excited.
"And Puking Pastilles!" Fred exclaimed.
"This could actually work," Katie said. "But I'm going to be expecting some free merchandise once you've perfected them."
"Details, details," George said, waving her off.
They laughed.
•~0~•
After they had ridden the carriages back to Hogwarts (Genevieve always tried not to look at the thestrals), the Sorting finished, and the feast eaten (though Hermione, who had recent discovered the "terrible injustices that befell house elves", refused to partake in the feast), Dumbledore gave a speech.
The first part of the speech most always involved reminding the students of the banned and newly banned objects, as well as the fact that the Forbidden Forest was, true to its name, forbidden.
Dumbledore continued. "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
The twins were too horrified to form words at this development, and Genevieve frowned in confusion.
"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up most of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"
Dumbledore was cut off by a beyond loud roar of thunder, and BANG. The doors of the Great Hall slammed open. A man in a black cloak was standing in the doorway, supported by a long staff.
He began to walk up to the staff table, a clunky soundingwith every other step. He walked straight up to Dumbledore, and, for the first time, lightning illuminated his face.
He had the most unusual face Genevieve had ever seen, scarred, with part of his nose missing, and one of his eyes was large and electric blue, in constant motion, as though trying to detect the slightest amount of suspicion in the air around it.
He can't be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Genevieve thought. Can he? The man sat down at the teachers' table, and Dumbledore addressed the students once more.
"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody."
Dumbledore and Hagrid were the only ones in the entire hall to clap for the new professor, everyone else too shocked to register what was happening. Genevieve remembered the name of the man Mr. Weasley had gone to help that morning: a man named Mad-Eye Moody. This must be the accomplished ex-Auror who had captured half the Dark wizards in Azkaban. But why was he teaching?
Dumbledore pressed on. "As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
"You're JOKING!" exclaimed Fred in astonishment.
The atmosphere calmed significantly with this outburst, most of the hall, including Dumbledore himself, laughing.
"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley, though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun all go into a bar . . ."
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, stopping Dumbledore before he got too off task.
"Er - but maybe this is not the time . . . no . . . where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament . . . well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so hope those who do know will forgive me giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.
"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued.
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament, none of which have been very successful. However, our own Department of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.
"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."
"I'm going for it!" Fred whispered excitedly. Genevieve knew the money would really help the twins with their joke shop.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion. I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."
This had caused an outcry from the twins, who still seemed determined to find a way into the competition. Genevieve kept silent, knowing that she would turn seventeen just a short while before Halloween, when the names were submitted.
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"
Genevieve stood up, ready to leave for the common room for a bit of last minute studying.
"They can't do that!" protested George furiously. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"
Fred looked mutinous. "They're not stopping me entering. The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"
"Yeah," Ron said dreamily. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons . . ."
"Come on," urged Hermione. "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."
They left the Great Hall, Fred and George discussing how Dumbledore night try to keep them out of the tournament and how to fool the impartial judge.
•~0~•
That morning, Genevieve cleared her schedule with McGonagall and immediately set off for her first period, Study of Ancient Runes, a subject she'd always found fascinating. When she returned to the common room at the end of the day, exhausted, the twins smirked at her.
"Tired?"
"You have been running around all day."
"And we've been here - "
"Relaxing."
She smacked each of them. "Shut it."
"It's amazing how free your schedule is when you only have three classes."
"Well, not everyone has the incredibly ambitious dream of opening a joke shop."
"What do you want to do, then?"
She grinned unreadably. "It's a secret."
•~0~•
Genevieve sat in Professor Moody's class rather nervously. She could usually tell a teacher's teaching methods by the way they acted outside of class, but Moody was unpredictable. She had no clue what this would be like.
Other students filed into the class, looking equally wary. Everyone took out their copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and waited anxiously for class to begin.
Genevieve heard the ever familiar clunk of Moody's artificial leg and straightened up in her seat subconsciously. He limped to his desk and turned to the students.
"You can put those away," he said in a low, growling voice. "those books. You won't need them."
Genevieve carefully replaced her book in her bag, while the twins looked excited. Moody, meanwhile, was using his magical eye to bore into each student as he called roll, as though he were reading their minds.
"Right then. I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. It seems to me that you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures. But you're behind - extremely behind - on dealing with curses."
Genevieve had to agree, the majority of her teachers in this subject up until Lupin had been more or less useless, and Lupin himself had focused on creatures as opposed to curses.
"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 curses, so - straight into it."
Nobody dared interrupt him.
"Curses. They come in many strenghths and forms. Now, this is the year that the Ministry of Magic deems you old enough to deal with what illegal Dark curses look like. A wizard who is about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he is about to do. He is 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 dispose of your gum properly, Mr. Jordan."
Everyone's eyes darted to Lee, who had tried to, inconspicuously, leave his gum on the underside of his desk. Lee looked up sheepishly and hurried to throw his gum away. Genevieve noticed that Moody had been facing away from the class when he said this, however. Apparently, his eye could see through the back of his head. Not alarming at all.
"So . . . who knows what the three Unforgivable Curses are?"
George raised his hand.
"Isn't one of them the Imperius Curse?"
"Ah, yes. Weasley, is it? Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago. He would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."
Moody withdrew a jar containing three spiders from his desk. He took out one of them, pointed his wand at it, and said, "Imperio!"
The spider began doing a number of crazy stunts, making the students laugh. Genevieve, however, was horrified. She'd read about it, but this was so much worse than she'd ever imagined. With a single word, free will was nothing but a concept. Moody had the same reaction.
"Think it's funny, do you? You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"
It was as though someone muted the room. Everyone fell silent again at once.
"Total control," Moody whispered. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats . . .
"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse. 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!"
The class flinched. Moody returned the spider to its jar.
"Another one?" He asked.
Angelina Johnson, whom Genevieve knew to be a close friend of Katie's through Quidditch, raised her hand, albeit reluctantly.
"Yes?"
"The Cruciatus Curse."
Moody nodded. "The Cruciatus Curse. Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea."
He enlarged the spider.
"Crucio!"
The result was immediate. The spider instantly began writhing in pain, twitching, rocking itself. It couldn't scream, but there was no doubt in Genevieve's mind that it would if it could. Slowly, every person in the class closed their eyes, unable to watch, and Moody stopped. He returned the spider to its normal size, and placed it back in the jar. When he spoke again, his voice was even softer.
"Pain. You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse . . . That one was very popular once too."
There was a moment's silence.
"Right . . . and the last one?"
She didn't dare raise her hand, though Moody stared right at her.
"Well?"
Genevieve shrunk down in her seat. Moody, though, said, "Snow?"
She gulped. "The Avada Kedavra," she said, barely audible.
He smiled ever so slightly. "Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra . . . the Killing Curse."
The spider attempted desperately to escape its fate, to no avail. Moody set it on the desk, and bellowed:
"Avada Kedavra!"
With a flash of green light, the spider rolled over, dead. Genevieve closed her eyes tight. Her mother . . . Her father had told her that her mother had been found dead. She'd been killed by the curse that was impossible to survive.
Moody was talking. "Not nice. Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and you all know his name."
Harry Potter. Genevieve put her head down on her desk. Harry Potter. Not Allie Snow. Her mother wasn't so lucky.
Moody was still teaching. She forced herself to focus on the lesson again.
"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 the nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.
"Now, it 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. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared again, and the whole class jumped.
"Now . . . those three curses make up 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 . . ."
The rest of the class period was spent taking notes on Unforgivable Curses. When the bell rang, Genevieve rushed out of class, straight to the Great Hall for dinner, stopping only when Fred, George, and Lee caught up with her.
"Didn't you see what happened?" George asked.
"Malfoy tried to curse Harry, but Moody Transfigured him - into a ferret! Moody was bouncing him up and down and up and down and up and down - "
"I reckon he only stopped because McGonagall got onto him!"
Their faces were absolutely alight with glee. Not wanting to upset them, Genevieve mustered up a smile. They went to sit by Harry and Ron.
"Moody!" Fred said. "How cool is he?"
"Beyond cool," George answered.
"Supercool," Lee added. "We had him this afternoon."
They looked at Genevieve. "Um, yeah, incredibly . . . cool."
Harry pounced on the opportunity. "What was it like?"
They all glanced at each other.
"Never had a lesson like it."
"He knows, man."
"Knows what?" Ron asked enthusiastically.
"Knows what it's like to be out there doing it."
"Doing what?"
"Fighting the Dark Arts."
"He's seen it all."
" 'Mazing."
Ron made a rather spectacular dive for his schedule. "We haven't got him till Thursday," he groaned.
•~0~•
The twins and Lee caught up with Genevieve later, when she was studying, or trying to, in the common room. They marched up to her.
"Okay," George said firmly.
"What's going on?" Fred's tone almost matched his mother's. It was more than a little frightening.
"You darted after Moody's class, and you've been distracted since," Lee said.
She bit her lip.
"Well, it's just . . . you all know that my mum's dead," Genevieve started.
They all nodded.
"But I don't think I've ever told you how. She was an Auror, and one day, when she was coming back from an important meeting, with me, she was attacked. Death Eaters. She managed to escape with me, make sure I was with my dad, safe, but she couldn't leave innocent people to get hurt. So she went back. She fought them.
"They found her body the next day. That's pretty much all my dad told me. But you know me, I've read the reports, I've used common sense. She was killed by a curse that leaves no mark, a curse that only one person has ever survived."
"Harry," Fred provided. She nodded.
"And, just, when Moody demonstrated, I saw it. Two words, and they're dead, and everyone around them is left to pick up the shell, the bare bones of what's left. That curse is the reason I never knew my mother, and it's just been bothering me, I guess."
They all pulled her into a hug.
"Your mother was a hero, through and through." Lee said comfortingly.
"And without her sacrifice, we would've never known you," George continued.
"And then who would help us hatch schemes, plan pranks? Without you . . . we might've actually behaved." Fred shuddered.
She laughed.
"I wouldn't go that far," she said. "But thanks."
•~0~•
A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FRED AND GEORGE!