CHAPTER EIGHT
ADELE P.O.V.
Lunch was a solemn affair.
Not for my friends, of course, they were giggling away like a bunch of pansies at the free entertainment they got to witness at the cost of my humiliation. I, on the other hand, had an extra two days of detention with Snape, and was not in the mood for jokes.
"Look who it is, our favourite little Slytherin!" Fred and George Weasley plonked themselves on either side of me and grabbed at my chicken. "We heard about your little escapade with a certain Thomas. Very proud of you." I huffed, and waved their hands away. "Hands off my chicken."
Geogre lunged for my timetable. "Cheer up Zabini child! You have Defence Against the Dark Arts next. Alastor Moody is a God."
"Really?" I asked curiously, my interest piqued. Defence had always intrigued me, as had "Med-Eye" Moody, of whom tall tales had reached my ears through my mother. He was supposedly an Auror of repute, and detested by my mother and others in a few circles.
Nevertheless, I couldn't wait to get to class, it was one of the few I actually enjoyed. I scarfed down my potatoes, my mouth full, I gestured hurriedly toward Draco and Blaise. I waved to the Weasley twins, swung my leg around the long table and hopped to the other side.
"Move it, you idiots. I want no reason for any other Professor to give me detention." Blaise gulped down his pumpkin juice, and wrenched Draco up. "Let's go."
We walked down through the hallways, all eyes on us. Knowing it was mainly due to the Potions incident, I kept my head down. We reached the Defence classroom quite early, so we got quite a good choice of seats. I ran to one of the desks in front."Yay! This is mine!"
Draco rolled his eyes at my childishness and Blaise muttered something quite similar to 'nerd.' I pulled Draco and Blaise by the hand to the seats behind mine.
"Sit," I ordered. They complied. I sat down too, quite happy with myself.
The rest of the class started streaming in, Hermione at the forefront. "Hermione!" I squealed, patting the seat beside me. She gave me a queer look and sat down. Blaise took the liberty of explaining. "She's not at her best."
Before I could make a very indignant remark, Alastor Moody swept by my desk. He waved his wand, and a piece of chalk magically started scrawling his name on the blackboard.
"Alastor Moody," he announced. "Ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent, and your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."
"Joy," grumbled Blaise from behind. Poor boy didn't really have an affinity for the whole 'defence' part.
"I am here because Dumbledore asked me- end of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?"
"He practices sarcasm. I can tell," I exclaimed in awe. "Teach me, Master." Hermione shushed me.
"When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach. I believe in CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" The class reared back at his ferocity. "Now, can anybody here tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?"
"Three, sir," replied Hermione.
"And they are so named?"
"Because they're unforgivable," I answered, determined Hermione would not get all the glory. Moody's fake eyeball spun around to focus on me. "The use of any one of them-"
"Would earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban, that is correct. Now the Ministry says that you are too young to see what these curses can do. I say different!"
Hermione and I immediately turned our heads to look at each other in apprehension. "Is he for real?" I whispered. She just shook her head in disbelief.
"You need to know what you're up against. You need to be prepared. You need to find another place to stick your chewing gum than the underside of your desk, Mr. Finnagan!"
The whole class swivelled around to see Seamus in shock, his hand under his table, making to stick his gum there. I turned back around, satisfied. "I forgive him, he's fabulous," I declared.
"So which curse shall we see first?" questioned Moody. "Weasley!" he barked. Hermione tensed beside me.
"Yessir!" came Ron's dulcet tone. "Give us a curse."
"Well..." Ron took his time, gazing over at Hermione for support. Hermione looked as if she wanted to reach out and cuddle him like some sort of teddy bear. I gagged, and I didn't even have to turn to see Draco's murderous expression, his eyes burning holes through the back of my head.
"My Dad did tell me about one, the Imperius curse?"
"Ah, yes, your father would know all about that one- gave the Ministry quite a bit of grief a few years ago. Perhaps this will show you why."
Hermione tensed. I was going to ask her what had gotten her so flustered, when I saw the reason for her anxiety. Moody was luring a creature out of one of his boxes, a hairy, eight-legged menace with two bright black eyes- I could have screamed. I really hated spiders.
"Impedimenta." The spider suddenly became docile, it followed Moody's every command and wand movement- over the desks, on Neville's head, on Draco's face, and right in front of my eyes...I screamed, shutting my eyes tight.
"What should I have her do next?" he enquired. "Make her jump out the window?" I opened an eye to see the spider hurtling over to the window. "Drown herself?" I saw it balanced precariously on the eye of a glass of water.
The spider was brought back to his hand. "Scores of witches and wizards have claimed that they only did You-Know-Who's bidding under the influence of the Imperius curse. But the question remains- how do we sort out the liars?"
His glass eyeball whizzed around till it came to a rest. Looking at me. "Longbottom, isn't it?" He asked, still glaring at me.
From across the room, Neville stood up. "Professor Sprout tells me you have an aptitude for Herbology."
"Thank you, sir."
"Give me another curse, Longbottom."
Neville gulped. "There's the..the-uh, the Cruciatus curse."
"Correct, correct! Particularly nasty one- the torture curse." Moody walked up to my desk and placed the now immobile spider in front of me. I leaned back instinctively.
"Crucio!" The spider writhed in pain, bending back in unnatural ways to escape the pain being inflicted upon it. I writhed as well, as if it was I the curse had been directed toward. I could almost feel the pain and an abnormal urge came upon me to touch it...to heal it in some way. I heard soft voices in my head, whispers of unimaginable things, promises of glories, urging me to touch the spider, to use my power to heal. In a daze, my hand lifted toward the spider...
"Stop it! Stop it! Can't you see it's hurting him?" I snapped out of it, glancing toward Neville, whom Hermione had been trying to save. His face was contorted, and he was breathing loudly.
I looked back up at Moody, only to find that he had not shifted his eyes from my face. I didn't move, and a cold breeze swept over me, the hairs at the back of my neck standing up. I knew something terrible was going to happen. The spider still on my desk was whimpering.
Not moving his gaze, he asked me, "Would you like to give us the last curse, Miss Zabini?"
I shook my head, mutely.
"Very well...Adava Kedavra!" A jet of cold green light shot out of his wand, and the spider gave one last twitch.
The spider lay dead in front of me.
"The killing curse," Moody whispered.
He raised his voice and his eyes finally from me, to find Harry. "Only one person is known to have survived it...and he's sitting in this very room."
All eyes turned to Harry, except mine. My gaze was glued to the dead arachnid, and I couldn't move. I barely heard Moody's instructions for the homework due next week, and as the class shuffled out, I was the last one remaining at my desk.
"Adele?" came Draco's voice, which broke me out of my stupor. I turned around to see Blaise, Draco, Harry and Hermione at the door, concerned.
I forced a smile onto my face. "Coming."
I snatched my bag up and stood up, glancing at Alastor Moody. He was still staring at me, a morbid look in his eyes, and I turned away, suddenly terrified. I walked toward my friends, shook off their worries and made my day out to Herbology, not glancing back even once.
Walking down the sunny grounds, I could still feel the scars of the ghostly Cruciatus curse on my body, and the silent voices in my head.