It wasn't till their first time doing rounds, by themselves in the dimly lit castle at night, that Harry and Hermione really got to talk.

"So your summer was good?" said Hermione.

"Best ever." He checked the map to be sure no one was near and said, "With Padfoot and Remus, they're not my parents, but Uncles, maybe? The way Uncles are supposed to be. Spending six weeks with them, it's a lot of different from six weeks with the Dursleys. And I had a birthday party, sort of."

"You didn't invite me?"

"We're under Fidelius, so we couldn't bring people who didn't already know the secret, and if we'd had it anywhere else Padfoot couldn't have come, so it was just me, Padfoot, Remus, Bill Weasley-he's been breaking curses at the place we've been staying-and Dumbledore."

"Professor Dumbledore was at your birthday party?"

"Even got me a gift. He knew my parents, and he's my magical guardian till I come of age or Padfoot is exonerated, so to me..." Dumbledore was a lot like a grandfather, probably, though not that close. And he didn't think grandfathers usually keep so many secrets, but Dumbledore did always say he'd tell him when he was older, which Harry knew from the telly was a grandfatherly thing to say. "You've got a grandfather, right?"

"Two."

"I've got a talking portrait of my grandfather on my dad's side now, got it this summer, I'm not sure where to hang them, so they're still in my trunk, I'll show you sometime, sorry, I'm rambling. How was your summer? You went to Europe, didn't you?"

"Barcelona. It, the beaches, look, Harry. About the dance. Did you mean we'd go as friends, or...?"

"I fancy you a bit and I'd like to see where it goes."

"Oh." Her voice squeaked and she was quite red. "But I have someone I like."

His stomach plummeted. "Krum?"

"Yes, I suppose, I do like him, but I decided I'm not interested in a long-distance relationship. Not while I'm still at school anyway." She took a deep breath and said, "You have to promise not to tell."

"I promise."

"I like Ron," said Hermione, very quickly.

"Our Ron? Ronald Weasley? The chap you're always getting into fights with?"

"It's unresolved sexual tension," she said.

"Oh. Is that right? Well." He didn't want to be there, standing in front of her, standing near her, alone at night in a charming castle light by magical candle-light. And they didn't really need to stay together on their rounds.

"Talk to you later, Hermione." He waved goodbye and walked away as quickly as he could without seeming like he was running, feeling deeply relieved when he took a turn and they no longer shared a corridor.

Harry had thought she would say yes. Not that he thought most girls would say yes-he didn't. But he and Hermione were best friends. He'd been about sixty percent sure she'd at least be willing to go to a dance with him and see how it went.

Being told no was shocking, shock in the sort of way that made Madam Pomfrey talk about 'treating for shock,' but it wasn't surprising. If she'd just said that she felt sisterly toward him and didn't want to disrupt their friendship, or if she'd said she was still hung up on Krum, it would've been disappointing, but easy enough to accept. Her saying that she preferred Ron though...

Harry had occasionally suspected there was something there, but he was Harry and Ron was Ron. He was as good or better than Ron in every class, he was more responsible, and he was the leader. And whereas Ron stopped talking to Hermione for a while pretty much every year, and could be quite nasty to her, the only time Harry remembered doing that was third-year, over the firebolt, and even then Ron had been meaner to her even though it had been Harry's broom.

Harry dismissed the idea that Hermione liked people being mean to her.

Ron was better at chess, which couldn't be it either, and at being funny. Not that Ron was really funny, but he was funny more often than Harry, or at least made the attempt to be. He did, when he wasn't in a huff, lighten the mood, and maybe for a very serious person like Hermione, Ron's mood-lightening abilities were what did it.

Or maybe he, Harry Potter, was, without realizing it, a tremendous git who Ron and Hermione only hung out with because they'd known him too long to not, or maybe he was ugly, or smelled bad, or seemed quite unstable with his hot temper, his impulsive actions and his aching scar.

If he was a git, he could be less of a git, if he was ugly, well, he should get Madam Pomfrey to take a look at his teeth to make sure they were straight and he should figure out something to do about his hair, and he should really try to be less hot-tempered and impulsive. And he should be funny, of course. That's what Sirius said. Good jokes raised skirts. But not too many self-deprecating jokes. The girls started believing them, Sirius said. Not that he was trying to get girls to raise their skirts.

And he wasn't plotting how to convince Hermione that she'd made a mistake. Just, he wasn't used to losing to Ron at anything more important than a friendly game of chess.

Ron.

Whenever he thought about how Hermione was smarter than him and got better grades and had correctly advised him to not do all sorts of things he'd gone ahead and done anyway, he just had to think about Ron to feel better about himself.

When had he started thinking about Ron as someone who wasn't as good as him?

"One fish said to the other, 'the water's nice today.' The other fish said, 'what's water?' No, that's more of a metaphor than a joke, isn't it? What did the fly say when it ran into the windshield? 'Don't have the guts to do that again.' That'll only work for muggle-borns, wizard-borns won't get it. She is a muggle-born though. How many wizards does it take to screw in a light bulb? Just two. One to transfigure a ladder, the other to confund a muggle into climbing it."

Eh. That had the form of a joke, but it wasn't really funny, now was it?

Trying to date was hard.

#

#

Harry sat next to Hermione at breakfast and hoped he didn't look as nervous as she did.

They were silent, which was hardly unusual, but the silence was strange and they didn't want to look at each other but they didn't want to look away either.

Harry said, "So... Got your timetable."

"Yes." She tugged on her hair. "You? Do you have your timetable?"

"Yeah."

Hermione said, "About last night..."

"We've been best friends since first-year. We're going to stay that way. No awkwardness, right?" Sirius and Remus had laughingly assured him that telling a female friend he was romantically interested would not damage a strong friendship in any lasting way, and he was terrified by the thought that they might have been wrong.

"Right," said Hermione.

But the awkwardness didn't fade till he annoyed her in History of Magic. It was the first class of the year, and Harry handled it how Sirius and Remus said the Marauders always had.

He sat, charmed a quill to write whatever Binns said, put on his headphones, and read the textbook.

Binns didn't notice. Binns hardly noticed anything, and he surely had no idea what headphones were. He probably thought Harry's hair was weird.

Hermione glared a little, but Harry directed her attention to Ron, who was sleeping. Harry shrugged as if to say, 'Better than what he's doing.'

Hermione shook her head, and it wasn't until class was over and they were on their way to potions that they talked about it.

"At least Ron's trying to pay attention, he's just failing. You've completely given up on it."

Harry turned to Ron, "Were you trying to pay attention?"

"I figure history class nap into my sleep schedule, to be honest. The textbook makes a good pillow after I cast a softening charm on it."

Hermione said, "Ronald Weasley!"

"Yes? Lighten up."

Harry said, "I bet I learned more during class than you did, Hermione."

"It's very disrespectful to Professor Binns."

"I'm not in History of Magic to show respect to Binns that he won't ever notice. I'm here because my timetable tells me I'm supposed to be. So long as I am, I might as well prep for my OWLs and maybe even learn a bit about history." He waved the parchments the lecture had been recorded on through the air. "I'll read the lecture later. Ron, want a copy?"

"Sure enough."

Leaning against a wall in the hallway, he took more parchment out of his bookbag, cast the copying charm, and gave the copy to Ron.

Hermione said, "We're not supposed to use magic in the hallways."

Ron said, "But Hermione. We're using it to further our educations. That can't be bad."

Hermione huffed, and Ron and Harry exchanged grins. Harry said, "Hermione, you know we love you dearly," Hermione turned red, "and we would be dead without you, but you're a little ridiculous sometimes. And speaking of ridiculous. Remember, be moderately friendly to Draco, and be mildly surprised when he doesn't return the favor."

Ron said, "I still don't see how this will work."

"It'll work because Crabbe and Goyle don't actually like Malfoy. Plus, they're easily bought."

"You didn't!" said Hermione.

"Eleven galleons each."

Hermione chewed her lip and said, "I shouldn't approve, but he's such a git."

Ron said, "You're spending 22 galleons to torment Malfoy?"

"If it works, second best purchase I've ever made, after my wand."

Ron looked peeved, but when they entered the potions classroom Ron made toward Vincent Crabbe.

Ron took a deep breath and said, "Hey Vince. How was summer?"

Crabbe startled, grinned, and said, "Pretty good. Practiced my beating. You?"

Ron said, "About the same. I'm gonna try out for Keeper this year."

"What's your broom?"

"Got a Cleansweep 12, fresh out of production," Ron said. "Early Christmas from brother Bill."

"That's a nice broom."

Malfoy grabbed Crabbe and pulled him away.

"Seeya," said Ron.

Malfoy hissed, "What are you doing talking to Weasley?"

Crabbe's brow furrowed, "Hmmm? What's wrong with Ron?"

"He's the enemy"

Goyle said, "Draco, you okay?"

Malfoy looked between Crabbe and Goyle, than to Ron, who looked quite confused.

Goyle said, "Always thought of them more as rivals than enemies, yeah?"

Harry waved. "Hey Draco, how's being a prefect?"

"Looking for advice, Potty? I suppose the responsibility is already too much for you."

"Potty?" said Harry, as if he'd never heard it before.

Snape swept in, and Malfoy shut his mouth.

"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, gliding to the front of the room and locking them all with his gaze, "I feel it is appropriate to remind you that you'll be sitting an important exam this coming June, during which you will demonstrate how much you have learned about the composition and use of potions. Moronic though some this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'acceptable' your OWL, or suffer my... displeasure."

His gaze lingered upon Neville, who gulped.

"After this year, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "Those who get an Outstanding on your potions OWLs will be admitted into my NEWT course. Those who get EEs will be subject to my generous discretion." Snape's sneer on 'generous' left little doubt that few of those who got EEs would be allowed. "Those with As and below need not apply for admittance."

On the one hand, Harry liked very much the idea of not having a class with Snape anymore. On the other hand, Remus and Sirius had communicated clearly that they had gotten NEWTs in potions, and his mother and father had done so also, Lily being one of the stars of the class, and they expected him to take and pass the class as well.

Snape briefly explained the day's potion, the Draught of Peace, and Harry got to it, following the directions on the board.

Harry read the directions twice before starting, noticing how much easier it was than before. He'd always sat at the back to avoid Snape, and then had had to squint to read the directions. But with his new glasses, the directions were easily legible, even from the back.

He tried to make sense of the potion, as he occasionally had, and gave it up for a lost cause when he couldn't figure why the hellebore syrup didn't make the whole potion boil off.

It was a difficult, fiddly potion, and Harry had to calm himself several times, aiming for the relaxed focus Mind's Mortar suggested.

After somewhat over an hour, Ron's potion was spitting green sparks, Seamus was trying to relight the flames beneath his cauldron, which he'd somehow put out, and Neville was dealing with his potion from arm's length, ready to flee if it exploded.

Harry's potion was a dull steaming grey, not quite the shimmering silver vapor that Hermione and Malfoy had managed, but better than most.

Harry gave the blond ponce a thumbs up.

Snape stalked over, looked at Harry's potion, and said "Imprecise. An imprecisely made potion may be even more dangerous than a disaster, for you'll be tempted to drink it. Minus five points from Gryffindor."

Snape turned away, and his eyes lit up when he saw Neville's potion.

As Snape took a step toward Neville, Harry said, "Professor Snape, Sir, I've been meaning to say this for a while now. About your hair. I know you're a potions master, but that doesn't mean you're a haircare master. I wonder if you might benefit from talking to some of the girls in my dorm. Lavender and Parvati especially, they really know their stuff."

Snape turned, mouth thin, black eyes glittering.

"Just a suggestion, sir. To thank you for always holding me to such rigorous standards."

Snape said, "Detention, Potter. And minus fifteen points from Gryffindor."

Harry winked at Snape, who curled his lip.

When class let out, Hermione hissed, "What was that? Are you insane? We lost points."

Harry looked around to make sure no one was looking-he really had to master a privacy charm or two-and pulled Hermione and Ron close. Harry whispered, "Dumbledore's orders. I'm supposed to have a detention with Snape every week. To work on occlumency. Seeing as I have to have a detention with him anyway, and he knows it... It's almost like having immunity. I'll talk to Dumbledore about the points."

They made their way to lunch, and Harry had a snit with Ron.

They'd gone back to sitting with him at meals, rather than minding the firsties, and as breakfast drew to a close, Ron said, "Time for Divination."

"Better you than me," said Harry.

Ron frowned and said, "Aren't you coming?"

"I'm not taking divination. I've got third-year Runes instead. I told you in a letter."

"No you didn't."

"Yes, I did." He'd said a lot of things in that letter, and Ron had replied with a blanket 'That's great!,' then spent most of a page on his new summer Quidditch training. "Did you even read all my letters?"

"Of course. I must've missed that part. If you really wrote it."

"I wrote it." It had only been a sentence or two. It was possible Ron had accidentally skipped it.

"So you're abandoning me."

"It's one class." Granted, the first time ever they'd take a class without each other. But one class. "That's hardly abandonment."

Ron glared. "Why'd you wanna drop divination anyway? It's easy."

"Hasn't seemed easy to me. Just useless and stuffy and she tells me I'll die. And I read about Runes over the summer and the class is intended for 13-year-olds, so I think it'll be easy."

Ron stalked off, muttering about loyalty, which Harry thought was rich. He glanced at Hermione, but she had to go to Arithmancy.

Harry wondered what to do. He had a free period without either of his friends. That hadn't ever happened before.

He could read, but he'd done an awful lot of that lately, completing all the books he'd gotten over the summer, and over the weekend between arrival and class beginning he'd spent hours on spellcasting-mostly working on Hermione's birthday gift, which was coming along nicely.

He looked at the transcript of Binn's lecture and found that Binns was more interesting when read than when listened to. Not that reading the transcript was thrilling, but Harry had never appreciated how much of the mind-numbing boredom of Binn's lectures came from the professor's slow monotone.

Now if he could just enchant a quill so it would replace the phrase 'and thus, for that reason,' with 'so.'

Reading the lecture got old before he was halfway through, so he ran to his dorm and grabbed his firebolt, wondering why he didn't carry it around in his pocket. He'd read his guide to broomstick care, and you could do that, though you had to careful not to fuddle the enchantments, and it was a good idea to cast a couple simple charms to keep from breaking the miniaturized shaft or fouling the bristles. And keep it in a case, maybe.

He opened one of his room's window, rose, then dove, whooping as he picked up speed, pulling out of his dive just above the ground, and continuing straight, brushing the edge of his shoe against the dirt, and rose once more, corkscrewed, looped, and went through a series of dives.

He took his right hand off the broom, which felt slightly uncomfortable. Usually, when he wanted to catch the snitch, he kept his right hand on the broom and snatched at it with his left hand.

He aimed his wand at a stick far below.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

The stick shot into the air. He tugged it left, released it, and tore after it as it fell. With both hands occupied he couldn't catch it, so when it was in reach he cast another Levitation Spell and threw the stick again.

That got old after a few repetitions and he let the stick hit the ground.

He checked his watch and said, "Avis."

An oddly yellow merlin shot from the tip of his wand, the falcon small, fast and agile.

Harry holstered his wand and took after the conjured bird.

He corkscrewed above it, facing down. The bird dove, surprising him with its speed, twisted to the side, and climbed more quickly than he would've expected.

Not as quickly as a firebolt. Harry grabbed it and pulled it to his chest. The conjured bird looked at him calmly, and Harry blew on it at the same moment he canceled the spell, the bird disappearing in mist and smoke.

He understood why they didn't use birds as snitches anymore.

"Avis!" said Harry, and ten merlins appeared.

They dove at him.

Harry rolled, dived, looped, cast stupefy, and missed.

He flew away and thought of restrictions so he couldn't just leave them behind and break the game. He had to stay in the triangle formed by the lake, the greenhouse, and the edge of the forbidden forest.

"Stupefy."

A bird fell, hit the ground below, and vanished into nothingness. Harry tried the spell again, but the next bird dodged. Harry used Vermillious, curious as to whether the conjuration would survive the reds sparks, one of the weakest offensive spells he knew.

A few sparks, but not a faceful of them. He'd have to improve his conjurations for them to ever be much use in a fight.

A claw tore his cloak. Harry laughed, corkscrewed, knocking the Merlin off, and hit it with a knockback jinx.

He rose for some space, thinking to practice his accuracy at range. A merlin put a scratch on his arm, and Harry stunned at it close range.

"Incendio," yelled Harry, not setting the birds on fire, but creating a wedge of fire in the air. It only lasted a couple seconds, but that was long enough for three merlins to fly into it.

When Harry landed, all the merlins defeated, he cast a cleansing charm on himself and a mending charm on his robes, washed his few cuts in the loo, and made his way to defense.

The class started how he'd thought it would.

The desks were filled, the students waiting for their tardy Professor to arrive. Ron was frowning and grumbling but apparently cooling down, and Harry was trying to write left-handed while holding his wand in his right hand-the news that his parents' wands hadn't even been on their persons when Voldemort came that had him obsessing more and more about always having his wand to hand-when Moody stumped in and started casting silent stunners.

Harry threw up a Protego-he'd had the spell on the tip of his tongue the moment he'd heard Moody's stump-legged walk. Reducto came to mind when he thought of what spell to cast next, and he had to remind himself that this Moody wasn't the man he and Cedric had fought less than three months ago.

Hermione put up a protego, shielding Harry and Ron, allowing Harry to drop his own shield. Eight merlins burst into being from the end of his wand and dove at Moody-not the best birds for the task, perhaps, but he'd just practiced making them.

He conjured a badger beneath his desk, stuck his arm past Hermione's shield, and cast Expelliarmus at Moody.

Moody dodged the Disarming Charm, and the merlins disappeared in a wave of fire

A set of ropes dove over Hermione's shield, tangling up Ron.

Harry's conjured badger crawled across the floor, one leg nonfunctional, another not working right. It was a tad misty. No surprise. They didn't officially learn animal conjuring till next year.

Still, the badger dragged closer to Moody.

Moody whirled and stomped his peg leg on the mangled, shadowy badger, which disappeared in a puff.

Most of the class was casting various hexes at Moody (only a couple others seemed to know Stupefy) and Moody's shield had formed a sphere. Some spells hit the sphere, others missed and hit classmates. A Stupefy, a Petrificus Totalus and a Jellylegs all hit Hermione's shield, straining it. She was sweating.

Harry got the ropes off Ron, told him to help Hermione, and stepped outside the protection of the shield to cast the most powerful Stupefy he could at Moody.

Moody's shield shuddered, and the old Auror shouted, "Enough."

The firing of spells trailed off, and Harry took a look around the classroom. Desks were overturned and students were slumped. Harry cast Rennervate on Lavender, and countered the Petrificus Totalus on Parvati. Hermione saw what he was doing and performed the same services for Dean and Neville.

Moody said, "Potter's got the right idea. The moment the fight's over, he's assisting his allies, but keeping an eye on me the whole time. Ravenclaws, you ought to be doing the same."

The students set to, and when everyone had been revived, Moody said, "Fifth-year! For those who don't take your NEWTs, this is your last year of Defense. After this, you'll be expected to defend yourself in the real world. Is anyone ready? No. Potter did the best at this little drill, but even he didn't do well. Potter, you conjured a badger, poorly. Why choose a badger?"

Harry said, "They're low to the ground and easy to miss, but potentially dangerous."

"Good reasoning. Would've worked better if it'd been a better badger, but tell me, Potter, which two types of animals are easier than any others to conjure?"

"Birds and snakes."

"Correct. If you knew that, why not conjure a snake? They're low to the ground, easy to miss, and potentially dangerous. Well?"

The answer was that he'd spent half of his second year being called the Heir of Slytherin by frightened classmates who'd avoided him, but he wasn't about to say that in class. "I thought you'd be expecting it."

"Lesson for you all," said Moody. "Surprise is nice, but the expected and effective is better than the unexpected and ineffective. Next time, conjure a snake. Two maybe. You're a parselmouth, boy. Learn to use it."

Harry nodded, not so much agreeing as encouraging Moody to proceed to the next subject.

"You've had, I believe, a decent education the last two years, but not the years before that. You're all a long damn way from where you need to be. So I'll be pushing you hard. Tell me, what are the five basic dangers to wizards? Longbottom."

Neville looked around the classroom.

Moody said, "Well? What's dangerous?"

"W-Wizards," said Neville.

"Correct, but don't stutter. It makes you seem weak, and the weak are attacked. Often by wizards. We all carry deadly weapons from the time we're eleven years old, and we all spend at least five years in a class aimed at teaching us how to use them. A decent proportion of us are evil bastards. Wizards are dangerous and you should be suspicious of them."

Moody said, "You, the Ravenclaw girl who looks like a Gryffindor girl."

"I'm Padma Patil. You don't remember me?"

"It was a long summer. What else is dangerous?"

"Creatures. Trolls. Werewolves. Giants. Dementors."

"Yes. They're dangerous," said Moody. "Some less so than wizards, some more. Some more trustworthy, some less. Some can be dealt with much as wizards are, others need special treatment. Care of Magical Creatures is a helpful class, though Professor Hagrid and I may not always have the same perspective on matters."

The class laughed, though Harry wasn't sure whether it was supposed to be a joke.

Moody said, "Miss Granger, name another danger. We have a special class on them as well, and I believe you know more about them than most, despite not being in that class."

Hermione looked reluctant, but said, "Muggles. Potentially. Though most of them are really quite nice and wouldn't have anything against wizards if they knew about them."

Some of the students laughed at the thought of muggles being dangerous.

Moody's glare silenced them. "Muggles are dangerous. They're every bit as clever and vicious as wizards. And they have guns, explosives, cars, video cameras. Most of their technologies can be disrupted through area affect jinxes, if you know it's coming, but even then, even if you deprive them of their usual weapons, they can come up with new tricks you weren't expecting, and if all else fails, they can come at you with clubs and shields. As an Auror, I've seen dark wizards attack muggles, and I've seen confused muggles fight back. I've seen them knife wizards dead and shoot them with guns. I've seen them break the Imperius, shake off Confundus charms and even resist Obliviation. And there's a lot of the buggers.

"But most of the wizardly deaths to muggles come with no malice. Every year, wizards who don't understand cars get hit by them and die. Rather as if a muggle, seeing a wizard use the floo, stepped into the fireplace without using floo powder. Which brings us to our fourth danger. Mr. Goldstein."

"The government?" said Anthony Goldstein.

"Falls under wizards," said Moody.

"Goblins?"

"Goblins are Magical creatures.

"Then... accidents? You might fall and hit your head?"

"Right. Stupid accidents kill far more wizards than muggles do. Just last month, Jimmy Fallbrook slipped in the bath, cracked his head on the tile, and drowned in his own tub. First thing every morning, I cast a cushioning spell on my head and spine. Three months ago, Eugenie Samtick put her wand in her back pocket, sat on it, blew off her left buttock, and bled out before help arrived. Who here has a wand holster?"

Harry and a few others raised their hands.

"Everyone ought to have one. Wand care is a must. But there's one danger left. Mr. Potter, I'm told you've read up on it."

What he'd read up on. "Using Dark Magic."

A few of the Ravenclaws tittered and were silenced by Moody's glare.

"Why, Potter, is Dark Magic dangerous to use?"'

Harry felt singled out, being the only one asked to explain why, but he'd spent a lot of the summer reading up on the subject-it was what Dark Arts and Purehearts was about, all 400 pages of it, and it'd been interesting.

Harry said, "It's not about the effect. If I hit someone with a decent Reductor curse, that person would die just as easily as if I hit someone with an Organ Expelling curse-The Reductor would cause more damage, even. But spell casting has mental mechanics. In order to cast a Reductor, I need to intend an explosion. I do have to target the spell, and on a moral level, it definitely matters what my target is. But the spell itself doesn't care what I aim at. And there's no emotional component to the spell. Just the intention.

"But the Organ Expelling curse requires an emotional component. It needs a sadistic desire to for my target to be mutilated. So in order to really make a practice of Dark Magic, to become good at it, you have to cultivate your darker emotions. Anger, contempt, hatred, sadism. Xenophobia and insecurity. And once you've cast the Dark Magic, a residue remains in you, and it pushes you toward more of those darker feelings. That's why it's called Dark Magic."

Moody said, "A nearly perfect answer, Potter. The others could take notes from it. Five points to Gryffindor. But tell me. NEWT students and Auror candidates are tested on resisting the Imperius. You lot were last year-which was a mistake, fourth-year was too young, but you'll do it again this year, because many of you won't be in the NEWT class and you need to know how to resist it. So how is it that Defense professors the world over are given dispensation to cast that spell on their students? It's an Unforgivable. One of the worst of the lot. Are we all evil bastards?"

Harry said, "From what I've read, the Imperius curse requires a complete desire to dominate the other person. A sincere abhorrence of the fact that the target doesn't think like you do and doesn't want to do what you want them to do."

Moody nodded, so Harry continued.

"If I were teaching defense, and I were casting the Imperius on students, and I didn't feel that way about them naturally, I'd have to psyche myself up to it. Like acting. Imagine they're someone I do feel that way about. Or think about how they don't study enough. My deeper intention of teaching my students would definitely counteract some of the effects. Still, you tend to become what you pretend to be. Knowing occlumency could help. And aferward, I'd want to do purification and cleansing rituals on myself and my wand."

Moody said, "And get a stiff drink with friends. You don't think performing cleansing and purification rituals is overkill?"

"Constant Vigilance," said Harry. "I'd probably also perform some spells that require a positive emotional state. The Patronus Charm, for example."

"Another perfect answer. Ten points to Gryffindor. It's true, Kiddies. Dark Magic is like certain illegal potions. A bit of the tamer stuff won't damage you irrevocably, but it's hard to just do it once and to stick to the tamer stuff. I've seen bright young wizards just wanting to do interesting research and protect themselves from bullies, who, before long were torturing muggles and casting the Imperius on family members. The best way to avoid the danger of Dark Magic is to not cast it. The first four dangers are, obviously, different."

Moody said, "The first four dangers share the same four steps to safety.

"First, Avoid the dangerous situation. That means stealth spells, mood charms, wards, messaging spells, muggle-managing spells, muggle knowledge, creature knowledge, common sense, proper wand care, CONSTANT VIGILANCE, and plain old talking. Never doubt that keeping a civil tongue in your head can save your life.

"Second, preparation. You must prepare to deal with the possible conflict from a position of maximum advantage. That again means stealth spells, mood charms, wards, messaging spells, area-affect jinxes, conjurations, transformations, wand care, cushioning spells, hardening and softening charms, legal knowledge of the terms of engagement so you don't go to Azkaban, basic health and hygiene-nearly everything you've ever learned can help you prepare. And of course, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!

"Third, kicking ass, as the muggles say. This is most of what people think when they hear 'Defense Against the Dark Arts,' but in many ways it's the easiest step. So don't muck it up. If fighting becomes necessary, you'd best know how to handle yourself. Shields, stunners, footwork, fitness, tactics, hexes and jinxes, counter curses, performing under pressure, and CONSTANT VIGILANCE!

"Fourth, the aftermath. That means properly securing a subdued opponent so you or your friends don't get killed by something you thought you'd taken care of, cleaning the scene to, if appropriate, cover up signs of the conflict, first-aid, and of course, CONSTANT VIGILANCE. I've seen wizard after wizard die after they though the fight was over. Relaxing, sitting back, having touching little moments with each other, and boom, and with a roar of spellfire, someone's dead.

"And through of all this, through whatever you do, it's critical you maintain the Statute of Secrecy. There's nearly six billion muggles out there, yes, billion with a B, one thousand millions, and we do not want a war with them. They outnumber us about ten thousand to one. If you're reckless with the Statute, you'll find yourself in Azkaban eventually. Or, possibly, you'll get the world destroyed."

There was lot of muttering around the classroom as some of the purebloods tried to take in those numbers. Many of them looked to be doubting it.

"Believe it. Every Defense course ought to include a muggle-studies component, especially now that you're getting older, getting closer to the point where you might wander off into the muggle world by yourself.

"I'll be cramming all that into you, not just into your heads but into your bodies, all within the confines of prepping your for your OWLs." Moody's face twisted as he said OWLs. "We ought to be teaching to life, not to a test, but you have to do well to take the NEWT class, and the test isn't bad, at least.

"But for those of you who want more than I'll have time to offer in class, I'm starting the Hogwarts Defense Association. Dueling. Spell drills. Counter-curses. Preparation. Calisthenics. Warding. Basic cursebreaking. For now..."

Moody waved his wand, and questions appeared on the board. The first read, 1) You and your friend have been attacked by an unknown wizard using potentially lethal dark magic. Apparition and portkey have been jinxed. In the same moment that your friend hit your enemy with cutting curses to the leg and chest, your friend was struck by an unknown curse and thrown ten feet behind you. What do you do?

Harry's instinct was that he'd check on his friend. But that was clearly a very stupid answer. If he turned his back to the wizard, be struck in the back by dark magic, die, and then the wizard would kill his friend. Hermione, maybe, in the scenario.

He could put up a shield while he checked on her, but if she was seriously injured what could he actually do other than say, "Hermione, oh my god, don't die." And they wouldn't be able to escape either.

The better option would be to take out the unknown wizard as quickly as possible, then help Hermione. He could use his mirror to call for help once the portkey and apparition wards were down.

As for taking the wizard out. What did that mean? Sirius's war stories made clear that while the classic trio of Stupefy, Expelliarmus, Incarcerous, neutralized most opponents reliably, the most reliable spell trio of all was Reducto, Reducto, Reducto.

Harry wrote, "I would press the attack while the enemy was disadvantaged and help my friend as soon as the enemy had fled or was defeated." Then he moved to the next question.

2. Your friend made an appointment to see you at 10 O'clock, and arrives at 10:30. Your friend is usually punctual. What do you do?

Harry blinked, thinking he'd welcome his friend inside and ask about the cause of the delay. Like any normal, well-adjusted person.

Except, Moody had been impersonated by a polyjuiced impostor for most of a year. And he, Harry had been the target of that impersonation. And he and Ron had once used Polyjuice to impersonate his enemy's closest companions.

It wouldn't hurt to ask the tardy friend an identifying question.

#

#

"Potter, stay behind."

A few students gave him curious glances, but it had been plenty apparent last year that Potter was Mad-Eye Moody's favorite student.

Finally the class had emptied except for Moody, Harry, Hermione and Ron.

Moody motioned for Hermione and Ron to leave.

Harry said, "I don't keep secrets from them. Whatever you want to say, they can hear. And no offense, but I'd rather not be alone with you. Remarkably enough, the Defense professor has tried to do me serious harm every year I've attended Hogwarts."

"Every year?" said Moody, sounding intrigued.

"It wasn't Professor Lupin's fault. But if Dumbledore hasn't read you in on that situation, I won't either."

Moody raised his wand, and Harry took one step back while taking a firmer grip on his own wand.

Moody said, "Just privacy spells. You're twitchy. That's good. How much of that is because I look like the fake?"

"Some."

"You're wondering why I'm your Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, considering that last year clearly showed I can't defend myself against the dark arts."

"Everyone gets beat sometimes," said Harry. "I was more wondering about why you're here, considering you don't look healthy." Pale and gaunt.

"You've heard about the jinx on the position?"

"It's real?"

"Seems to be. Potter, would you say I was the Defense Professor last year? I didn't teach, but I did sign a contract, and I spent the whole year in the Defense office. My lesson plans were mostly followed, and the man who did teach used my name and polyjuiced himself as me."

"You teaching could confuse the jinx?" said Harry.

"Headmaster Dumbledore believes it just might cause a fatal glitch. Healthy or not, I'm here. I do have a problem though." He motioned Ron and Hermione closer. "How similar am I to that damn Death Eater's imitation?"

Harry said, "Pretty similar. The focus of the class seems a little different, but you can probably cover that up with it being a different year for all your students, and by mentioning that you learned a lot from last year."

"Tell me about the class last year. I need to know more about what he did that I can learn going over damn paperwork."

:::

At the end of book 7, so far as I can tell, Harry's most impressive spell is still Expecto Patronum, which he learned his third year. That ain't gonna stand.

The bit about Dark Magic has been influenced by any number of fics, but I want to bring particular attention and thanks to Mira Mirth's On the Way to Greatness, one of the great uncompleted fics. (Here's hoping the author will finish it someday.) I'm somewhat stretching the definition of "Not really AU, canon compliant except for the timeline divergence," but even canon isn't fully canon compliant, so meh.

Snape's introductory speech is taken almost verbatim from canon. I didn't bold those parts, because I find that annoying.

September 1st of 1995 was a Friday. Thus, they had two full days at Hogwarts before classes started.

Monstrosity, by JLL, available on Amazon. I wrote it. It's good, and it only costs 99 cents.

So far as I can tell, in the books Harry never uses a conjured or transformed animal in a fight. Here, he spent several hours over the summer watching memories of his dad and Dumbledore do just that. Expect an effect.

'Canonical' population figures are inconsistent. Making the world small when small is suited and large when large is suited is part of JK's brilliance, but managing that properly is beyond me. Between 10 and 20 thousand wizards in Britain, about half a million worldwide.

Harry will not be leading the DA this year. This does deprive him of a chance to work on his leadership skills, but will give him better circumstances in which to improve his own magical abilities.