A/N: This is a chapter I wanted to write when I wrote this story originally (4 years ago, on Quizilla. . . When it sucked) and now with me editing it, I thought, what the hell.
"So this Professor Moody is supposed to be really good?" Hermione asked.
"Well he was an auror once upon a time. Most people say he's crazy as they get these days, though. But as far as Defense Against the Dark Arts goes, you can't really find a more competent person than an auror," I said.
We walked into the classroom that had belonged to so many professors before Moody. Most recently it ha belonged to Professor Lupin who had grown to be more of a father figure to me than an actual teacher.
Unfortunately when the student body learned that he was a werewolf he resigned so there wouldn't be a riot.
"I miss, Lupin," I said as I sat down.
"We all do. He was my favorite teacher," Harry said.
"He was everyone's favorite teacher. . . Except for the Slytherins of course," Ron said.
"And anyone who didn't like werewolves," Hermione said.
"It really shouldn't matter," I said.
"I know, but we can exhaust the subject of werewolf rights and still nothing would change. The only way to actually change would be to either make the change yourself or eliminate the problem all together," Hermione said.
My plan was to do both – work for werewolf rights, and to also invent a cure for lycanthropy so Lupin wouldn't have to suffer anymore.
Hermione and I took seats together, next to Harry and Ron and in front Seamus and Dean.
"Hey, Hannah," Seamus whispered up to me. I turned around to him.
"Hey," I said with a smile.
"Hogsmeade trip this weekend, want to go?" he asked.
I nodded. "Definitely."
Last year I'd been banned from the Hogsmeade trips because of my ability to get kicked out of any class, even the class with the teacher who had pegged me as his favorite. It wasn't as if I tried to be annoying.
I was just born that way naturally. Most teachers said I was too much like my father for my own good.
I turned around to Hermione and we both giggled.
"I so approve," she said.
"I do too," I said.
Then the door open. The intimidating Professor Alastor Moody limped in on his wooden leg, his blue eye swirling in his head.
"Why does he have to look so scary?" Hermione asked.
"I don't think h does it on purpose, I think he's just battle scarred," I said.
". . . How do you lose your leg and your eye?" she asked.
"Deatheaters," I said.
". . . And with that I finally understand the extent of their ruthlessness," Hermione said.
Moody went up to the board and started scribbling his name on the board. He turned around to us, his eye whizzing around in his skull.
"I am Professor Alastor Moody, ex-auror, and your new defense against the dark arts teacher. I am here because Dumbledore asked me and for no other reason than that," he said.
I rolled my eyes.
*And the only reason Dumbledore asked you here was because the school is going to be in some sort of mortal peril. . . Again.*
-Don't you go getting involved-
*You act like I go looking for trouble.
-You do. Remember last year? What if Sirius really had been trying to kill you?-
*Then I'd be screwed. But I'm sure there's no way Dumbledore would possibly let us get involved in shenanigans this year.*
"Something on your mind?" Moody asked turning round to look at me.
". . . No," I said. "Why?"
"Well I couldn't help but notice you rolling your eyes," Moody said.
"You've been rolling your eye since you came in to the classroom and I didn't say a thing about it now did I?" I asked.
No one giggled, no one gasped. No one reacted to my cheekiness as they usually did. They were all afraid of Moody.
Moody hobbled over to me. "They told me I might get some cheek from you Miss Potter. Your reputation precedes you."
"As does yours," I said. I wasn't going to let this blue eyed, mad hatter, auror scare me.
"That being said, your reputation as an academic student is also well known, so perhaps you could help with this first lesson," he said.
I opened my mouth to say something but Moody beat me to it.
"CONSTANT VIGALENCE!"
Everyone in the class jumped at his shouting.
*This guy really is crazy.*
"Miss Potter. . . How would you like to tell us about the unforgivable curses?" he asked.
Then I was angry.
"I wouldn't," I said, glaring at him. It was an unforgivable curse that had killed my parents and given me and Harry our scars.. "I don't want anything to do with this those curses."
"And why is that?" he asked.
"They're called unforgivable for a reason," I said crossly. "Anyone who uses them lands in Azkaban."
"Can you name them for us?" he asked.
"I absolutely will not," I said.
Harry looked over to me, wondering why I was angry. He'd never heard of an unforgivable curse and as such probably wasn't able to make heads or tails of the green light we remembered from our childhood.
". . . So, who can name one. . . How about you, Weasley!" Moody said.
Ron swallowed hard and glanced around.
"Well. . . My dad told me about one. . . The Imperius Curse," he said.
Moody nodded. "Yes, the Imperius curse. Gave the ministry a headache not too long ago."
Moody hobbled over to his desk and reached into a glass jar and pulled out a large spider. Ron shrank down in his seat.
"Imperius," he said at the spider. He sat the spider down on his desk and immediately it began to tap dance around. The class erupted into laughter, I was not amused. "Funny isn't it? What should she do next? Jump out the window?"
Suddenly the class was silent.
"Or maybe drown herself," Moody went on. Finally they understood the Imperius Curse and why it was unforgivable. It took away freewill, it controlled your mind, and you couldn't do a damn thing about it.
"Next curse. Who knows another one?" Moody asked. ". . . Longbottom."
Neville rose to his feet. ". . . The Crusiatis Curse."
Moody nodded and stared at Neville. There were few people who knew the story about Neville's parents. How they were tortured to insanity with the Crusiatis curse.
Moody pointed his wand at the spider. "Cruccio."
The spider started twisting and twitching wildly, screaming even as the pain the curse caused spread through it's body. Neville stared at the spider, horrified.
"Stop it!" I said getting to my feet. "Stop it please!"
Moody looked at the expression on Neville's face and immediately stopped the curse. He walked over to me and sat the spider on my desk.
"And would you like to tell us the last curse, Miss Potter?" he asked.
I shook my head no.
He pointed his wand at the spider. "Avada Kedavra!"
A beam of green light shot from his wand and hit the spider, killing it instantly.
The Avada Kedavra, the killing curse, the one that killed my parents.
I'd had enough of this class. I picked up my things and walked out of the classroom. I didn't bother to listen to him calling back to me. I walked up to the seventh floor and up to Dumbledore's office.
I knocked on his door.
"Come in," he said. I pushed the door open and walked inside. "Hannah, what's the matter?"
"Professor Moody that's what," I said. "I mean, the unforgivable curses in our class."
"Calm down and tell me what happened," he said.
"So, we get into class and he starts picking in me immediately because I rolled my eyes at something he said – whatever. And then he asks me if I could lend some information about the Unforgivable Curses. I said absolutely not. Then he goes around showing of the Imperius curse and the Crusiatis curse on this spider, in front of Neville, of all people, like he doesn't know about Neville's parents."
"Hannah-."
"Oh, and then when I tell him to stop he brings the spider over to my desk and use the killing curse on it. Right in front of me," I said. "I was so angry. And you can't say he didn't know. He knew what happened to my parents. He knew what killed them and he would know why the curses upset me. So why would he do that?"
"I'll talk to Professor Moody, Hannah," he said.
"How could you hire someone like that?" I asked.
"It's been difficult this year. He's only temporary. Just for this year," he said
"You promise?" I asked. Dumbledore nodded. "Good. . . I guess I should wait for class to get out and then go find Harry and. . . Talk to him, though I'm sure Moody told everyone why I freaked out and bailed in class. It's like the dementors all over again. . . I don't think Moody will like me very much."
"Try to make the best of it," he said.
"Yeah, yeah," I said.
I had to make the best of everything, always.