Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews. I'm glad you liked that take on that Unforgivables lesson. I admit, I always found it strange that Harry didn't have a stronger reaction in the books.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Things definitely start to head in a different direction here.
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Harry slowly came back to consciousness, and he groaned as he realized it was morning. He'd had a difficult time getting to sleep the night before after yesterday afternoon's events. He'd been plagued all night with images of the lifeless spider - then it would turn into his parents' bodies lying there, unmoving - then they would turn back into the spider. It went back and forth, back and forth until Harry felt dizzy with the sensations of anger and grief roiling through his system.
He and the other boys were quiet as they got ready for the day. Ron, Seamus, and Dean were being very respectful of both Harry and Neville this morning, and he was very grateful for that. The only thing Ron said to him was, "You okay, mate?" as he came back into the room after his usual morning routine.
Once they went downstairs, Hermione met them in the common room. "Good morning," she said quietly, patting Harry's shoulder. "Are you feeling any better?" She looked worriedly at him. "You don't look like you slept much," she murmured.
"I'm fine," said Harry, still feeling despondent.
Hermione shook her head, not fooled for an instant. "I wanted to let you know that I told Professor Snape not to expect you for detention last night."
Harry felt a cold feeling envelop his entire body as horror seized him. Detention with Snape. He had completely forgotten. "Oh, no," he said breathlessly, his veins completely flooded with ice.
"It's okay, mate," said Ron bracingly. "Screw Snape anyway. He's a nasty, greasy, foul git. You didn't need that last night. Not that you ever do, you know."
Hermione, for once, didn't chastize Ron. "I went to the staff table in the Great Hall and let him know," she said.
Harry could just imagine how he had reacted to that. He felt a strange mixture of annoyance and affection for Hermione - annoyance that she felt the need to constantly take care of him, yet deeply grateful that she was willing to risk Snape's wrath by mentioning anything to do with Harry, and especially telling him his most hated student probably wouldn't show up for detention.
"Thanks," he mumbled, not knowing what else to say. He knew she'd been angry with him for losing his temper at Snape the way he had in class two days ago. Thankfully, after the disastrous DADA lesson yesterday, everything seemed to be forgiven. But the fact that she had gone as far as to tell Snape that he wasn't coming to detention ... his gratitude towards her increased at this thought, but it was soon replaced with even more dread. It would be just like Snape to call him weak and pathetic for reacting the way he had to the Unforgivable Curses. How much had Hermione told him?
As if sensing Harry's unasked question, Hermione said gently, "I just said you had a rough time in Defense yesterday. I think he knew about it already, because he was in an extremely foul mood and kept glaring at Moody."
"You mean, more foul than usual?" asked Harry. "And he hates Moody anyway."
"No, he was glaring at him even more than usual," Hermione explained.
"Are you mad, Hermione? Don't tell me you think Snape was angry with Moody on Harry's behalf," said Ron, astounded. "You're being a complete nutter!"
Hermione scowled. "I'm not saying he was defending Harry. He might be upset with Moody for showing us those curses."
Harry snorted. "Ron's right. You're mad. That man loves the Dark Arts, and you know it. He's probably thrilled that we saw those curses," he said, his ire at Snape starting to rise as he imagined the comments that would be flung at him today. No doubt Snape would accost him in the corridor and spit insults at him.
xxx
His prediction was proved both right and wrong at the same time. After breakfast, he was heading out of the Great Hall with Ron, Neville, and Hermione when a low, growling voice stopped him. "Potter."
The moment had arrived, and much too soon for Harry's liking. Snape's menacing presence made itself known as he loomed before the group of Gryffindors. "Yes, sir," Harry said, trying to look contrite. He loathed the man in front of him but did not want to set him off, because he had no doubt of what would come out of his mouth if he did.
"Be in my office tonight at eight o'clock sharp. Do not be late," Snape snarled venomously before storming off, his black robes billowing behind him.
"Git," Ron spat when Snape was far enough away that he wouldn't hear him.
"Yeah," Harry agreed, but he had to admit he found it strange that Snape didn't spit more verbal venom at him. He had expected a taunt about what an insolent brat he was for letting a measly little thing like the Unforgivable Curses prevent him from accepting his just punishment. Yes, the glower had been full of extra malevolence, but the diatribe had not come. Harry wondered about it, but preferred to be grateful rather than think on it too hard.
xxx
Classes went by slowly that day. His mind kept wandering, and he found it hard to concentrate. He saw that Neville was having an equally hard time as the lessons dragged on.
Parvati and Lavender kept discussing the Unforgivables under their breath, and kept glancing at Harry every so often. They weren't saying anything about him in particular, but he felt like he was being scrutinized by their looks alone.
That afternoon, Harry had Care of Magical Creatures. They were still, unfortunately, working with Blast-Ended Skrewts. Harry loved Hagrid, and would always be grateful to him for everything he had done for him, but his love of dangerous creatures was a bit much, he had to admit. When the class was told they had to take their Blast-Ended Skrewts for a walk, Malfoy voiced what Harry felt.
"You've got to be joking," he drawled, staring at Hagrid with disgust and disdain. "You're a lunatic if you expect me to take that bloody thing for a walk."
"Watch yer tone," said Hagrid, glaring at Draco and his posse. "I've heard yeh were a pretty fascinatin' ferret yerself. Now do as yer told."
For the first time, Harry felt a ripple of anger towards the half-giant. Malfoy's humiliation at Moody's hands still bothered him, and to hear Hagrid, a teacher, use it as an insult struck him as just wrong. He couldn't help but scowl at the man as Draco paled, instantly backing down.
Hagrid didn't even seem to notice Harry's mutinous expression as he said, "Come on now. Everyone's s'pposed ter take yer Skrewts. It's part of the lesson."
Reluctantly, the Gryffindors and Slytherins obeyed. No one was happy about it, but never had Harry felt so unenthusiastic to be in Hagrid's class. Because even when dealing with these Skrewts before, his loyalty to Hagrid was holding firm. But there was something about the comment he'd made about Malfoy that stung him.
As the lesson dragged on, Harry tried to rationalize. Malfoy had been responsible, after all, for the whole debacle that had almost gotten Buckbeak executed. It was only due to the revelations about Sirius and Pettigrew that Hermione had used her Time-turner to go back and save both Sirius and the hippogriff. Harry could remember that terrible moment that he heard the thud of the axe and thought that Buckbeak had been killed, and Hermione's sobs had echoed through the grounds, full of rage and grief. It had only been during the second go-round that they realized the thudding sound was McNair banging the axe in anger as he'd found that Buckbeak was missing.
Hagrid was probably still holding a grudge from that incident, and Harry couldn't blame him for that. Malfoy had been a rotten sod for getting his precious daddy to kill Buckbeak for him, he thought bitterly. But Hagrid hitting him with the ferret remark just didn't seem right. It was just ... too vindictive.
Since when have you started trying to take the moral high ground? Harry wondered. His changing feelings starting from the day Draco had been transformed still puzzled him - that is, until he thought of Uncle Vernon's terrifying figure, that gleam of malicious hunger in his eyes, and how for a moment he couldn't tell the difference between him and Moody.
When the lesson finally came to an end, Harry was more than glad to leave the disgusting Skrewts. "Taking them for a walk" had certainly been an experience he didn't want to repeat. When in Merlin's name was Hagrid going to realize that not every magical creature was fuzzy, furry, and cuddly?
xxx
It was about seven in the evening, and Harry had just finished dinner. Since he still had about fifty minutes before he had to make his way down to the dungeons for another dreaded detention with Snape, he wandered back up to the dormitory for a while. Seamus, Dean, and Ron were playing Exploding Snap in the common room, but Harry was feeling too out of sorts to play. Hermione, of course, was doing homework, and Lavender and Parvati were braiding each other's hair and gossiping. Harry just felt like being alone; he needed to prepare to deal with Snape. He was afraid now that Snape had saved his diatribe for when Harry would show up. He's probably been stewing in it all day, trying to figure out the best insults to use, he thought sullenly.
"Harry?" Neville's soft voice Reached Harry's ears.
"Yeah, Neville?" Harry asked.
"Oh, good. You're here," said Neville in relief. "I'm so, so sorry I forgot about your detention last night."
"Don't worry about it, Nev. I wouldn't have been much good for it anyway," said Harry. He hated how Neville always blamed himself for everything. "It was my responsibility to remember, and I was the one who forgot," he added. "It's not your fault."
"Thanks," said Neville, sounding incredibly embarrassed. "Uh ... I have to go now."
"What are you up to?" asked Harry curiously.
Neville sounded exceedingly worried when he spoke next. "Professor Moody's office," he said quietly.
"What does Moody want you for?" Harry demanded, instantly suspicious.
"Oh, I must have forgotten to tell you," Neville mumbled. "I swear, my memory is so rotten. I thought I told you, but I must not have. He said at the end of class yesterday that he wanted me to have tea with him. I told him I was worried about you and I wanted to go back to the dorm and see how you were doing, so he invited me tonight instead."
Harry felt a surge of affection for Neville at his honest sympathy and concern, but his suspicion also grew. Moody wanted to have tea with him? It was plain to see that Neville didn't think much of Moody either. "Why did you say yes at all?" he wanted to know.
"Er ... you know how intimidating he is," Neville murmured. "He honestly sounded apologetic when he spoke to me. I think he wants to talk about the lesson."
Harry held back a derisive snort. Moody, apologetic? Neville had such a sweet disposition that Harry was afraid the man was taking advantage of him. "I don't like this, Neville," he told him firmly. "I don't think you should go."
"He might not like it if I don't," said Neville, sounding frightened. "I don't want to get on his bad side."
At that moment, Harry desperately wanted to go with him. He didn't want his new friend dealing with that lunatic all on his own.
"It'll be okay," said Neville bracingly. "I guess we both have it rough tonight though, huh? You've got Snape to deal with."
Harry groaned. "Yeah," he muttered. If he skipped detention twice in a row, he didn't want to think about what Snape would surely do to him. He'd be dead long before Voldemort could get his hands on him again.
"Don't worry about me," said Neville, his tone entirely unconvincing. "It's just tea."
Just tea. The words were innocent, but if you put "with Moody" at the end of them, they sounded ominous. When Neville left the dormitory, it took everything in Harry's power not to jump up and go with him.
He lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a while, checking the time every now and then to make sure he wouldn't be late. The image of Neville sitting in Moody's office with a cup of tea in front of him, Moody's face leering down at him, kept flitting through his mind. You're being ridiculous, Harry, he chided himself. Just because you've had rubbish Defense teachers in the past doesn't mean you have to suspect all of them of evil doings.
But he couldn't help it. With some kind of weird instinct going off in his mind, he decided to do one last thing before heading to detention. He chastized himself again for his stupidity - how on Earth would doing this allow him to know exactly what was going on in Moody's office? After all, the Marauder's Map didn't show people's actions; it only showed their location. But with Moody's erratic behavior - what if he had taken Neville somewhere else? What if they weren't really having tea in his office? Harry had been told his instincts were good, and some kind of signal was telling him to do this.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry whispered to the parchment he had just retrieved. The Marauder's Map showed itself in all its glory, and Harry still marveled at the genius of it.
Harry searched until he found the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, knowing he should check there first.
And what he found stopped him in his tracks.
Professor Lupin's words filtered through his brain as he stared at the names of the two dots in the office.
"The Marauder's Map never lies."
"Where is he, Sirius?"
One dot was labeled "Neville Longbottom".
The other one was "Bartemius Crouch".
All thoughts of going down to the dungeons evaporated. Harry had to get to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, now.
What in Merlin's name was going on?