Updates may be slower from now on: I've already got three chapters written in the meantime, but school may get in the way. Hope you enjoy this chapter nonetheless!

"Today's our first Defence against the Dark Arts class with Professor Moody!" Scott exclaimed, as we headed to the classroom.

"I know."

He looked straight ahead, feet pattering as we climbed the third flight of stairs. We were joined by a few other Slytherins and Gryffindors walking in the same direction. "History just now was mind-numbingly boring. At least we have combined classes with the Gryffindors now." If Binns hadn't been a ghost, he would probably have put himself to sleep too.

Scott continued on. "What'd you think Moody'll make us do? He's famous for being an ex-Auror, you know."

"I know."

He finally regarded me with a frown, opened his mouth as if to say something, but dropped it. I took a seat at the back of the classroom, and Scott did likewise, sitting in front of me. With the exception of some spinning instruments placed onto the teacher's desk, and the presence of the professor himself, the classroom looked the same. Moody was standing prominently at the front, conversing with some Gryffindors who had taken their seats near the teacher's table. His magical eye spun slightly to stare at me for a moment, before jarringly turning to the empty doorway. I looked down at my book.

The curriculum plan, according to our notes, stated that we would be learning Counter-Jinxes and Counter-Curses, along with a few more practical spells, such as Stunners and the Disarming Charm. The Shield Charm would be taught, with some assistance from Flitwick. There was a heavy emphasis on practical spells this year, with Dark Arts theory being taught the next. With the curse on the position, Moody would probably not be around to teach us about the Dark Arts next year. I decided that was a good thing.

As I thumbed through a long, yet non-exhaustive list of Counter-Jinxes, the rest of the class filed in. Most of them seemed awed or honoured to be in his presence, with a select few warily taking their seats at the back of the class. Moody loudly rapped on the table.

"Put away your books, now! You won't be needing them as far as I'm concerned!" His voice was hoarsely, yet rang through the room with the fanaticism of a man who had spent most of his life fighting off Dark Wizards and creatures. "Today's lesson will be a simple demonstration on some curses!" The class hung off every word he said with rapt attention.

Moody took a step forward, whisking a glass jar from a suitcase into his hand. He jerkily set it down on Leanne's table, and she shifted her seat back to watch. "I won't only be teaching you about any ordinary, run-of-the-mill spells, though!" A murmur rose through the class again: we hadn't been this active when Lupin was teaching us about Boggarts and Inferi.

"These are the worst of the lot!" he barked. "The Unforgivable Curses." With a flick of his wand, three spells scrawled themselves onto the chalkboard.

The Cruciatus Curse. The Imperius Curse. The Killing Curse.

His attempt to sound somber was overturned by the flint of his voice. "I imagine you all know what these curses are and what they can do." He whipped around in the direction of Leanne's desk, and the glass jar on it burst open. A spider scampered onto Leanne's desk before enlarging, prompting her to hurl herself away. She landed on the floor with a thud, but Moody did not care. A few Slytherins sniggered loudly, and I scowled at them.

Moody's loud cough silenced all of us, and I returned my attention to the front. "First, the Cruciatus Curse!" He leveled his wand at the spider, which was crawling around the desk, blissfully unaware of its coming impediment. "Crucio!" Moody roared. Though no light emerged from his wand, the spider began to contort in pain, its spindly legs flailing about. A few Slytherins stood up to watch the spectacle more clearly, though a few students winced and looked away. I watched as Bell's eyes widened slowly, her mouth slowly opening. There was a mounting horror unfolding in her eyes, and I looked back to see the spider writhing about in agony.

There was a wild gleam in Moody's eyes, which faded as he waved his wand. He now held it behind his back, and the spider collapsed onto the table. "The Cruciatus curse causes unimaginable pain. I don't suppose any of you wish to have that inflicted on you, now." His voice softened, and the spider was whisked back into a jar, which closed itself tightly.

Just as quickly as he had quietened, Moody's voice rose to a fervor again. "The next Unforgivable Curse! The Imperius!" Another spider was released from a jar on Moody's desk. "It allows the caster complete and utter control over the victim; few are aware they are being Imperiused, and even fewer manage to fight it off. Imperius!"

The spider shuddered for a moment, and Bell flinched. Instead of struggling, however, the spider ceased its scrabbling, standing completely still.

"Now, it will do anything the caster demands of it. Anything!" It immediately began to cartwheel, pivot and spin around, at one point seemingly performing a tap dance. The class broke into raucous laughter, but Bell watched nervously. Scott, who had not uttered a word till now, turned back. "I imagine you could even get that blasted thing to off itself!"

His eyes bulged, as Moody's magical eye spun towards him. "You are correct, Mr. Vaisey! It will do anything!" The spider hopped into a teacup Moody had left on the desk. The class's laughter stifled, when it did not resurface after half a minute.

"Now you see why the Imperius curse is so devastating: one who submits to the will of the caster will have no control whatsoever!"

"And for the final curse," Moody's eye spun from student to student, gauging their reactions. Most had a look of trepidation on them, the occasional Slytherin smirking with unmasked glee. "The Killing Curse." The final spider hopped onto the floor, scampering towards the exit. Moody, however, was faster. "Avada Kedevra!"

A sickly shade of emerald green darted towards the spider. The moment it made contact, there was a zap and the spider's lifeless body was hurled down the aisle of tables. A few students winced, looking at it.

"The ability to sever a life from its body is not one to take lightly," Moody gravely warned us. "The Killing Curse is the worst amongst the Unforgivables, because its effects are permanent." A silence fell over both Slytherin and Gryffindor.

"And now, I will show you how to effectively deal with each curse. We'll only have time to cover the Cruciatus today, but we'll be finishing all three by the end of the week."

A hand was raised, which Moody nodded at. The speaker, Tiffany Salvatrix, stood up. "What do you mean, deal with them, Professor?"

Moody continued pacing. "In a battle against Dark wizards, expect no reprieve! You need to stay strong! Constant vigilance!" He stopped in his tracks. "I'm going to case the curse to let you see how it feels like to be on the receiving end of one!" He spotted our mortified looks, and added, "Dumbledore's given me permission to do so. Ministry's not going to be happy about this, but I reckon you lot are better than those good-for-nothing louts! Anyone wants to step forward?" When no one did, he seemed to flash a grimace, but the expression was indiscernible, the scars obscuring his emotion.

At last, a sandy-haired Gryffindor rose from his seat, striding towards the aisle. He stopped in front of Moody, folding his arms. "I'll do it, Professor." His words oozed with overconfidence.

"Your name, boy?"

"McLaggen. Cormac McLaggen." Though his back was turned, he almost certainly wore a smirk. Brash Gryffindors.

"I'll go easy on you. Yell 'Halt' if it's too much for you, alright?"

He nodded.

Moody adjusted his stance, pointing his wand at McLaggen. If the Gryffindor felt fear, he did not show it, standing his ground between the two columns of desks. The professor twisted his face into a snarl. "Crucio!"

At once, McLaggen collapsed to his knees, fists balled up tightly. He shuddered briefly, before throwing his head back and letting out a primal scream. A few students leapt out of their seats, one shouting his name. McLaggen was thrashing about on the floor now, yet through this Moody held the spell.

I scrambled out of my seat to join the others, a circle forming around McLaggen. A few students cast uneasy looks at Moody, hands reaching for their wands. The Gryffindor opened his mouth as if to say something, but clamped his jaw shut, his limbs flailing about wildly.

"It-STOP-help-argh-please-HALT!" His voice was raw, and a sheen of sweat had formed down his shirt. Moody finally lowered his wand. "I was wondering when you'd let it drop, boy."

The students returned to their seats, but McLaggen remained kneeling on the floor, panting noisily. "The curse cannot be fought off, cannot be countered. It will only stop when the caster stops. There is no way to fight it off: being exposed to it frazzles your brain, and doesn't protect you in the future. Unless you can incapacitate or disrupt the casting, you can only grit your teeth and hope it wears off." Moody nodded to the Gryffindor. "Glad to see you came to your senses towards the end and called it off." McLaggen did not look up.

He had lasted ten seconds.

Bell and Leanne had caught up with Scott and I on the way to the Great Hall for lunch. We exchanged greetings, but it did not take long for the conversation to switch topics to the recently concluded Defence Class.

"That was horrible! Professor Moody shouldn't have held the spell for so long: Didn't he see Cormac was in pain?" Bell protested, slowly shaking her head.

I sniffed. "In his defence, McLaggen did volunteer." Even if it was just to show off.

"He was given a safe word, too." Leanne added.

Bell considered this for a moment, chewing on her lip. "He was in pain," she said softly. "Horrible pain."

"Bad enough to addle up his thinking: it looked like he almost forgot about the safe word Moody gave him." Scott chipped in. "Lucky he remembered in the end. Lucky for him, I mean."

We were silent for a moment. After half a minute, Leanne spoke up, "The Cruciatus's the worst kind of pain, isn't it? I heard it's bad enough to drive someone into insanity."

Scott nodded. "I think it is."

Bell face flushed. "I wonder how Professor Dumbledore approved the use of such curses. On a student, nonetheless!" Moody's fervour for Defence against the Dark Arts knew no bounds. Dumbledore must have trusted the ex-Auror a lot to let these curses be practiced. I wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or not.

"I hope he isn't going to ask for student volunteers when he teaches us how to protect against the Killing Curse," Scott deadpanned. Bell and Leanne eyed him oddly, but did not reply.

Speaking of protecting against the Killing Curse... "Moody looks at Potter oddly sometimes. Do you think he knows how The-Boy-Who-Lived did it?"

"Harry's pretty quiet during Quidditch practice, and we've never brought up the topic before." Leanne nodded in agreement.

Scott glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at us. "If I didn't know better, I'd say Moody was trying to kill us." He snorted at his own joke.

Leanne peered at us from behind her black fringe. "I'd sure hope not. I've had my share of excitement and mystery already, with the Triwizarding Tournament and all."

"Hmm. Yeah." I blinked once, remembering something. "How'd you think Moody's going to leave the Defence position?"

For a Death Eater, Barty Crouch Jr. is a pretty good teacher.