A/N: Wow, so last week's chapter is probably the single most reviewed chapter I have ever posted. Many thanks to CosmosGravitation and Teufel1987 for their thoughtful (and lengthy) reviews, which have certainly aided in my understanding of the Unforgiveable Curses.

Draco was right; Harry's next Defense Against the Dark Arts was twice as bad as Harry had expected. During the next class period, when Moody was demonstrating the Imperius curse, he took inordinate delight in making the Slytherin students perform foolish acts. His instructions on the subject of resisting the Imperius curse were brief and entirely unhelpful.

"Let's see if you can resist!" Moody said.

"How?" asked Harry.

"You tell me," Moody said. And then they began.

Moody forced Goyle to tap dance atop the table he shared with Crabbe. Theo Nott did an impression of a teapot, complete with song and representative movements. Draco strutted around the room, hands held at the small of his back and elbows sticking out from his sides, bobbing his head and clucking like a chicken. Pansy burped the alphabet. Blaise imagined himself as a bogey, narrating his entire life, from his birth inside a nose to his explosive demise in a handkerchief. It wouldn't have been so bad, except for the sound effects.

Moody worked his way through the class, embarrassing them one by one. Harry was glad that Defense was a Slytherin-only class period. If this display happened in front of another house, the Slytherins would be too shamed to go on living.

Finally, after every one of his classmates had been thoroughly embarrassed, it was Harry's turn. Harry had known that Moody was saving him for last. Saving something special to fix in the minds of all the Slytherin students.

"Get up to the front of the class, Potter." Moody was standing at the back of the classroom, smirking.

Harry stood and walked to the front of the classroom. His classmates had failed to resist Moody's curse. There was no shame if Harry couldn't, either. They would all bear it, together, and then they would never speak of this day ever again.

As Harry turned to face Moody, all his thoughts of resignation fled. Harry would never surrender to a bully like Moody.

"Imperio!"

And suddenly Moody was gone. Harry's classmates were gone. Harry was standing alone in the classroom, which was suddenly covered in a faint fog. But it didn't seem strange that there was fog, and it didn't seem strange when Harry's parents stepped out of the mist.

"Hello, Harry," said James.

"It's good to see you," said Lily.

Harry smiled. It was good to see his parents. Very good. But he had something to tell them, didn't he? Something about his robes…

Harry looked down. His robes were green and silver. That's what it was. He was in Slytherin. His parents had been in Gryffindor. He needed to apologize. He needed to tell them that he was sorry for disappointing them by being sorted into Slytherin. He needed to tell them that he knew he was an embarrassment. That he had been ashamed of his house since the day he was sorted. He needed to tell them. He had to tell them. He was compelled…

Harry shook his head. He suddenly had a splitting headache. Why would he tell his parents that? There were other things to talk about. Important things, like Sirius, and the invisibility cloak, and how his mother knew Snape…

The fog seemed to grow thicker. There were important things to tell. Important things, like how awful it was being in Slytherin. Important things, like how awful it was to listen to Draco Malfoy's drawling voice every day. Important things, like how hard it was to pretend to be friends with the children of Death Eaters. Important things… things that needed to be said… things that needed to be said RIGHT NOW!

Harry grunted, biting back words. NO. That wasn't how he felt. That was wrong. He wasn't ashamed of his house or his friends. Harry clenched his hands together. He didn't have to say those things at all.

The fog, once again, grew thicker. SAY IT.

NO! Harry vision was suddenly pulsing with green light. The more Harry focused on the light, the less he felt compelled to speak. As the light pulsed faster and faster, the fog seemed to dissipate, and the room came into focus. It was as if a dirty, oily film was covering everything, including his parents. He just needed to tear it away…

Harry reached out and grabbed at the film. It caught in his fingers, and he yanked it down… there was a final burst of green light…

And Harry was suddenly on his hands and knees, gasping for air. The room was completely silent except for the sound of Harry's heaving breaths.

"I'm impressed, Potter," Moody said. He didn't sound impressed at all. He sounded furious. "Of all the people I thought might show some backbone, I never expected you."

"Bugger off," Harry said.

"Fifty points from Slytherin," Moody said calmly. "Care to try again?"

"You'll never make me say those things," Harry said. His breathing had slowed, and he was able to bring himself to his feet. "No matter how many times you try."

"Are you sure?" Moody asked.

"Yes," Harry said. Harry forced certainty into his voice, greater certainty than he felt in his heart.

"Then let's try again."

"Sure. Fine. Whatever." Harry finally had his balance back, enough that he felt comfortable folding his arms. "Let's go again."

"Imperio!"

Fog enveloped the room, and Harry's classmates disappeared. Instead, bludgers hovered above every chair in the room, just waiting to be struck. Moody still stood at the back of the room, smirking his nasty little smirk.

Atop the nearest desk was a beater's bat. Harry just needed to walk over and pick it up. It would be so easy to send a bludger flying at Moody's fat little head. There were more than enough bludgers available. And it would stop that smirk. That condescending, stupid, nasty little smirk. All he needed to do was pick up the bat and take a swing.

Harry picked up the bat. He wound up and swung at the nearest bludger. He felt the bat strike, but the bat bent in half. The bludger didn't move.

Harry moved to the next bludger. Wound up. Swung. Again, he struck the bludger square in the center, but again the bat bent in half, and again the bludger refused to move.

Harry began to run from bludger to bludger. Moody was jinxing them, obviously. Harry just had to move quickly enough. Eventually he'd find a bludger that Moody had forgotten, and then Moody would be sorry.

Harry ran until he was out of breath. He had tried every bludger at least once, some twice, and some three times. None of them would move. Maybe Moody had jinxed the bat. Harry finally turned to Moody, who was still standing and smirking at the back of the classroom. If Harry couldn't hit a bludger, then he'd at least throw the bat at Moody's stupid head. Harry reared back, and…

"Finite."

Harry paused. His classmates had reappeared in the classroom. The fog was gone.

"Are you going to throw that essay at me?" Moody asked.

Harry looked into his hand. He was holding a roll of parchment, not a beater's bat. Which explained why his "bat" had repeatedly bent in half when it struck the bludgers.

The bludgers…

Harry looked back at his classmates. There was a red mark on every one of their faces, and sometimes more than one. Crabbe was rubbing his head, where Harry had apparently struck him three times with the parchment. Theo and Blaise had red marks on their cheeks. Draco had a red mark across his mouth.

"Are you quite finished, Potter?" Moody asked.

Harry glared at Moody hatefully. "I don't know," Harry said. "Am I?"

"No, you aren't," Moody said. "First off, ten points to Slytherin for throwing off the Imperius cursethe first time. You can earn even more points if you tell me what the difference was between the first go around and the second."

"You were trying harder," Harry said.

Moody shook his head. "Guess again."

Harry knew the answer. Harry had known before he gave his first response. He didn't want to say it, though. He didn't want to answer correctly and give Moody any kind of satisfaction. What Moody was doing wasn't teaching; it was humiliation.

"I said, GUESS AGAIN!" Moody thundered. "What was the difference?"

"The second time… you gave me something that I wanted to do." If Harry was going to be forced to answer, he was going to make it worth it. "I wanted to hit a bludger at your dumb face and knock that magic eye right out of your skull."

"Correct," Moody said. "The Imperius curse is more effective when the victim is ordered to perform an action that the victim already wishes to perform. Even if the victim would never actually perform that action, the mere desire to do so makes the Imperius curse significantly more effective. Why?"

"If I want to defend myself, first I have to realize that I'm being cursed," Harry said. Moody obviously hadn't taken any offense to Harry's previous comments, and Harry didn't have the energy to try again. "If I'm doing what I want to do, I won't get suspicious. I'll never realize that there is something to fight against."

"Correct again. Have another ten points for Slytherin, and take a seat. You're done for the day."

As Harry walked back to his seat, Tracey gave him a glance and a sympathetic grimace. The rest of the class refused to meet his eyes. When Harry sat between Draco and Pansy, Pansy reached over and lightly patted his leg. Draco slipped Harry a piece of parchment with some writing on it.

Moody will get his.

Harry vowed silently to make sure Draco's prediction came true.

*!*!*!*

As Halloween approached, nervous energy began to build among the Hogwarts student body. Dumbledore had announced that, on October 30th, the representatives from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons would arrive prior to dinner. During classes, students were driven almost completely to distraction. The only class in which Harry learned anything useful was Ancient Runes.

Harry had discovered, to his surprise, that he quite enjoyed Ancient Runes. Professor Babbling, the Ancient Runes teacher, was a short, unthreatening woman, with a smooth face and deliberate demeanor. She started the semester with an intensive review of the previous year's subject matter. Harry had been simultaneously grateful and worried. Grateful because, despite the intensity of his summer work, it had been no substitute for classroom learning. Worried, because his summer work had been primarily memorization of various runes and rune formations, and a class that continued in the same vein would be dreadfully boring.

After a week of review, however, Professor Babbling began to focus significantly on magical theory during her lectures. Yes, the memorization of runes was still required, but Professor Babbling was incredibly thorough in demonstrating the etymology of the various runes, and how some of the runes developed into modern spells.

Harry was fascinated. Dumbledore had told him that taking Ancient Runes would allow Harry to begin creating spells, but Harry hadn't known how, and mere memorization hadn't helped him in any easily observable way. During discussions of magical theory, however, Harry could catch glimpses of how and why the class would help in spellcrafting.

During Runes, Harry sat next to Hermione. The only other Slytherin in the class was Millicent Bulstrode, with whom Harry was not well acquainted. The rest of the class was composed mostly of Ravenclaws, although Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff were also enrolled.

On October 30th, when Professor Babbling arrived in the classroom, the students were excitedly chatting about the impending arrival of the contingents from the other schools. Even Hermione had been drawn into speculation. "I'm so excited to meet the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang," she told Harry. "It's a fantastic opportunity to catch a glimpse of foreign magical education. I've been wondering whether non-English speaking countries use the same incantations to cast spells, or if different languages require different incantations."

Professor Babbling had reached the front of the room, and called for the class's attention. "Books away, please."

Only Hermione moved—she was the only student with a book out, but even Hermione's book hadn't been opened.

"Thank you," said Professor Babbling. "Ms. Granger has raised an interesting question, which I plan on twisting to fit my own purposes. She wondered if a wizard who does not speak English uses the same incantations that are taught in Hogwarts. The answer, unsatisfyingly, is 'sometimes.' Some incantations are the same, regardless of the language spoken by the wizard. Other spells vary from language to language, sometimes in small ways, and other times greatly."

Professor Babbling walked to her desk and sat on the edge. She seemed more relaxed than usual, and she was always one of the more relaxed teachers at Hogwarts.

"I'm finding it difficult to focus on class, today," said Professor Babbling. "I had planned a lesson based on the rune for 'sand' and its variations, but that lesson seems boring. Don't you agree? It's okay to say yes."

Heads nodded around the room.

"In that case, sand will have to wait. The great thing about sand is that it isn't going anywhere. It will still be around for next class." Professor Babbling grinned. "I feel obligated to provide you with some sort of education, however. Today's lesson will be quick and casual, and then we can proceed directly to gossip and rampant speculation about our soon-to-be guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang."

Professor Babbling walked behind her desk and sat down in her chair. She propped her feet up on the desk, exposing a pair of aqua colored socks with orange polka dots. "I have always been intrigued by the fundamental questions of magic, and I think that we at Hogwarts neglect their exploration. So, let's talk about that. Here's a question that I asked you on the first day of class: why do we study ancient runes?"

Hermione raised her hand, and spoke before she was called upon. "Ancient runes use the power of ancient symbols and words to channel magic, which allows us to enhance enchantments and other spells that require permanent inscriptions."

Professor Babbling smiled. "I couldn't have read it better myself!" What would have been a cutting comment from Professor Snape was significantly gentler when delivered by the smooth-cheeked Professor Babbling. "But that isn't the question I'm asking. Actually, I think I'm asking two questions. First, why do we use ancient runes? Second, why do we use ancient runes? Anyone?"

Harry offered a guess. "The meanings of ancient runes don't change."

"How so?"

"They're written in dead languages, so they'll stay consistent over time. They'll also be universal, the same for a French speaker as an English speaker."

"That's part of it," said Professor Babbling. "It's like the Latin taxonomic system used by muggle scientists to name animals and plants." Harry and Hermione understood what Professor Babbling meant, but it was clear that a large part of the class did not. "To answer your earlier question, Ms. Granger, this is also the reason that the incantations for some spells remain the same across all languages.

"But, as I said, that's only part of the reason that we use ancient runes," Professor Babbling continued. "Can anybody think of another reason?"

The class remained silent.

"A demonstration, then. Lumos." The tip of Professor Babbling's wand began to emit a soft, white light. "The spoken word calls forth the magic. But shouldn't I be able to say to my wand, 'light up,' and achieve the same effect?"

The students shook their heads.

"What if I said, 'nox?' Would my wand light up?" In response to Professor Babbling's incantation, her wand darkened. Again, the students shook their heads.

"Correct. But why? Why does lumos create light and nox extinguish, rather than the opposite? Why does aguamenti summon water, instead of sand?"

"Because the words mean something?" Hermione said, guessing.

"Vague, but pretty much correct," said Professor Babbling. "Let's take a brief side trip in our discussion. Who has seen a child perform accidental magic, even though the child couldn't speak yet? Maybe a younger brother or sister?"

Around half the class raised their hands.

"How can a child cast spells without any wand or incantation? Well, our best understanding is that magic is a wild, primitive energy. Very young children, who are also rather wild and primitive, can sometimes access magic. Even without a wand or incantation, young children are so closely aligned with magic that they are able access its power.

"As we grow older, we become less wild and more mature. Our inherent alignment with magic is diminished. In exchange, we gain an increased ability to exert control over magic, usually through wands and incantations. Does anybody see the connection to Ancient Runes?"

Silence.

"Come on," said Professor Babbling, standing up from her desk. "I'm trying to make this interesting! What's the difference between an ancient rune for the word 'light,' the incantation for lumos, and me saying to my wand, 'light up?'"

Hermione tentatively raised her hand. "Ancient runes are more primitive than modern language? So they're more connected to wild magic?"

"Does everybody see how Hermione made that connection? She's suggesting that ancient runes are like children." After a pause, in which nobody in the class gave any indication of understanding, Professor Babbling gestured to Hermione. "Can you explain?"

"Well… the word 'sun' looks nothing like the sun itself, but the rune for 'sun' is circular. The rune would be more closely aligned, which would mean that it could cause magic to have a sun-like effect more easily."

"That's true for many runes, but not all," said Professor Babbling. "What IS true for all ancient runes is that they are representations of ancient language. Ancient language is closer to the primitive roots of humanity, and therefore closer to the primitive roots of magic. Thus, the power of magic is accessed more easily. Most spells sound archaic to the modern ear, because most spells are derived from ancient languages and ancient runes."

Harry spoke up. "But if magic is wild, then wouldn't modern language be better for casting spells? Modern language would be more specific, which would allow spells to be cast with more precision."

"More precision, certainly. But less power. Think of magic like water behind a dam. Modern words might open a hole the size of a knut in the dam; the water would come out exactly where you wanted, but not in any volume great enough to make a difference."

"So ancient runes make a bigger hole?" Harry said.

"If you could speak the language from which ancient runes are derived, Mr. Potter, you could destroy the dam entirely. You'd certainly have enough water, but you would have no way of controlling it. Thankfully, however, the languages from which ancient runes are derived have been lost to us for centuries. The last wizard to have understood theses languages, if rumors are true, was Merlin himself."

"So that's why we use variations of Latin for spells," said Hermione. "It's a middle ground."

"Exactly. Latin is a middle language, providing a moderate amount of control without overly restricting access to magic. Think of Latin as opening a spillway at the side of a dam. It provides water for irrigation downstream, while also cutting off the flow before flooding occurs." Professor Babbling paused. "So, I'll ask again. Why do we use ancient runes?"

"Because they allow us to access power," Hermione said.

"Yes," said Professor Babbling. "And why do we use ancient runes?"

Harry had often heard insight described as a flash, like lightning. When Harry suddenly realized the answer to Professor Babbling's question, though, it was more like an explosion of green fireworks in his head. The knowledge detonated, complete and in its entirety, in the front of his brain.

"We use runes because the written word is more controlled than the spoken word," Harry said. "A written rune is more exact. It allows a wizard to use older languages and access powerful magic without being overwhelmed." As he spoke, his voice became more and more hesitant. It wasn't because he thought his answer might be wrong—he knew he was correct. Instead, Harry had started to wonder why he was so certain. He had no reason to know this information, but it was so clearly right.

Professor Babbling smiled and pressed her hands together. "Excellent! Runes are restrictive, which can sometimes be an advantage!" Professor Babbling glanced around the class. Only Harry and Hermione seemed to be engaged by the discussion at all. "Oh, fine. I can see that we all just want to talk about the tournament. We're done for the day. The rest of the class period is yours, but be prepared to discuss the rune for 'sand' during next class."