Last time...

"Come on, Ron. You've just volunteered to be a dress dummy."

"I don't want to be a dress dummy." Ron objected petulantly.

"Should have thought of that before you started complaining then." Hera retorted, no sympathy, already set on dragging him along.

Fred and George start snickering.

"I wouldn't laugh if I were you." Ginny warned sagely. "Who knows? You might be next."

The two looked at her with new light, and a dawning understanding came upon them as they turned to each other, before bolting from the room.

Chapter 17

1994/4th year

The Weasley parents were dropping hints all over the place about what was supposed to happen this year, which of course drove everyone other than Hera nuts. She already knew, sharing a secret sort of smile with Molly before getting on the train herself. George, Fred, and Ron were all trying to pull the information from them. It didn't help that Bill and Charlie kept egging them on either, obviously knowing what the secret was. The station was a bit of a madhouse this time, so Hera got onto the train quickly, having never been a fan of large crowds like that.

"If you promise not to tell the other students how you know, I'll tell you what they've been hinting at." Hera says, when the train left the station. "Molly knows that I know, and didn't say I couldn't tell you once we got onto the train."

"Well, come on then." Ron insisted, playfully poking at her side. "What is it?"

"The Tri-Wizard Tournament." Hera announced. "It's why you'll need those dress robes, Ron. They hold a Yule Ball."

Ron looked pale for a moment, but other than that, didn't react. Only Hermione perked up.

"The Tri-Wizard Tournament?" Hermione asked. "How did you hear about it?"

"Goblins. Resided at Gringotts for a time before heading to the Burrow." Hera admitted. "They're excited about it, being a warrior culture themselves. Apparently the tournament was stopped because of the high death toll, but they've put in a bunch of new rules to try and make it safer."

"Th-Think you'll enter, Hera?" Neville asked, nervously, obviously thinking about how dangerous such a tournament was.

"No. I plan on enjoying a nice quiet year, where I get to watch other people risk their lives." Hera stated contentedly. "Won't that be nice for a change?"

Hera's news had let them bypass whatever bragging stint Malfoy was trying to pull when he stopped by. Ron played it cool, like he'd known all summer. His dad and brother were in the Ministry after all. Fred and George just marveled at him, unable to speak, and Malfoy left in a huff when he didn't get the reaction he wanted. Pigwidgeon had been eating up all the attention that the girls could give him, and Hera had let Hedwig out of her cage at that point, which meant that Hedwig was trying to groom the excitable minute owl with varying degrees of success.

...

When the announcement came that night after the sorting feast, Hera and the others on the Quidditch teams were outraged that Quidditch would not be continuing on as normal. She'd been hoping that the teams would carry on, where most of them weren't really of age to try for the tournament. On the plus side, she got to meet Colin's even more excitable little brother Dennis, who'd fallen into the lake and had to be fished out by the Giant Squid. To hear him tell it, it was the greatest experience of his life. She thinks he'll get along fantastically with Hagrid, and tells him so. The boy looked nigh ecstatic at the proclamation.

...

It's in the middle of Dumbledore's speech that a deafening rumble of thunder sounded through the air. A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black travel cloak. Hera froze the moment she saw him, her danger sense pinged again, too much like the Quidditch World Cup. Lightning flashed across the ceiling, as if to herald him in, revealing a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair.

A dull clunk echoed with every other step he took down the Great Hall. Another crack of lightning, and his face was brought into sharp relief as he took down his cowl. There wasn't a single bit of his face that didn't have a scar on it, but his eyes…his eyes were what were truly frightening. One was small, dark, sharp and piercing. The other was a wildly moving thing, large and round as a coin, and vivid electric blue.

"We need to come up with a new level." Hera whispered under her breath. "Something above Quirrellmort, but below the Wraith of Voldesniff, because that's what I'm looking at right now."

"Harry, you can't be sure that-" Hermione objected, but Hera cut her off.

"I was right about Quirrell, Lockhart, and the rat." She snapped, though more out of panic than anything else, and Hermione held her tongue. "Please, just give me the benefit of the doubt, and trust that I'm right."

"The Mad Eye?" Ron suggested, looking rather deep in thought as he took another bite of shepherds pie. He really was getting better about his table manners. "We'll think of something. That's Mad-Eye Moody, a retired Auror, one of Dumbledore's oldest friends. What's he doing here, and why would he rate on your odd danger sense thing?"

"No idea." Hera admitted.

Once Moody sat down and started eating, making sure to smell the food first to check for poison, Dumbledore got back to the announcements. Of course, this Moody was their new DADA professor. It was the Triwizard Tournament, however, that caught everyone's attention. None of the Quidditch teams had been pleased to learn they wouldn't be playing this year, and Hera resolved to try and talk to the captains to see if they could still come up with something. Just because the rest of the school was going tournament mad didn't mean that Quidditch should have to suffer.

When they got their schedules, they compared to see how best to manage the time. Ron stuck with her in Divination for the easy grade. Hermione had opted out of that one, wanting to focus on Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, which Hera had stayed with as well, though they had both dropped Muggle Studies. Herbology was bound to be interesting, and she was glad she'd chosen to partner with Neville instead of Ron for it; While she was good at the subject, no one was better than Neville. It was when they began walking to Care of Magical Creatures that she began to wonder. There was always one class where something happened, though usually that was DADA; Care of Magical Creatures had made a valiant effort last year.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut as they neared it, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boar hound, Fang. Several open wooden crates were on the ground near his feet, and an ever curious Fang kept straining to look into them. As they neared, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, followed by tiny explosions. Hera, Ron, and Hermione all exchanged worried glances. It was no secret that Hagrid liked dangerous 'inneresting' creatures, and the three were rightfully worried about what they'd have to do for damage control this time.

In Divination, Ron had to separate from Hera, something he had not been prepared for. She'd talked with Professor Trelawney before the end of last year, and now she had a good chunk of space she'd be using for her loom weaving. She'd learn the rest of Divination with them, but more often than not Professor Trelawney would have her focused on her loom. As it turns out, Hera had quite the talent for it, and the Professor was having the time of her life calling in experts from around the world to guide her. Now, if only they could get the woman to stop predicting her death, that would be nice.

A bad feeling had settled into her stomach for the last two days, and Hera couldn't place why until they walked into DADA. Everyone had been talking about how amazing Moody was, how he just knew what fighting the Dark Arts was all about, but Hera couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong about the man. Normally, she would sit with Ron and Hermione in this class, but today she sat near Neville. Unable to shake the feeling that this was where she had to be, Hera had followed it. The other two take their seats at the usual table, and wait for class to begin, occasionally looking back to check on her.

"So – straight to it. Curses." Moody declared, after having checked the last name on the roll call. "They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you counter curses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, reckons you can cope, and I say the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. So…do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

That sinking feeling Hera had was getting worse, but so far nothing was happening. Several hands rose into the air, including Ron and Hermione's. Moody points to Ron first.

"Er…my dad told me about one…" Ron said tentatively. "…The Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Ah, yes." Moody acknowledged appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time."

Moody rummaged around in one of the desk drawers, and pulled out a glass jar that contained three large spiders. Hera immediately looks to Ron, knowing her friend had a deep fear of spiders. Without warning, Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it out in the palm of his hand so that they could see it. He then pointed his wand at it, and muttered. "Imperio!"

Neville was suddenly stalk still, as if realizing where this was going to go. His hand was in her own without a word said between them. She didn't look down at it, didn't question it, just lightly squeezed back. Somehow this was going to hurt him, she knew. She just didn't understand how yet.

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk, and began to swing back and forth as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Hera was pretty sure neither she nor Neville were breathing. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance. Everyone else was laughing – well, everyone else but Moody.

"Think it's funny, do you?" He growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away almost immediately. It was only just beginning to sink in what he was telling them.

"Total control." Moody continued quietly, as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…"

Neville started trembling.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse." Moody said. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was just acting. The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll teach you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Moody put the somersaulting spider back in the jar, while everyone else tried to put their hearts back in their chests.

"Anyone know another one?"

To everyone's eternal surprise, Neville raised a hand next.

"There's one – The Cruciatus Curse." He said in a small but distinct voice.

"Very good. The Curciatus Curse." Moody nodded, before getting another spider from the jar and pointing his wand at it. "Engorgio!"

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula.

"Crucio!"

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body. It rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. Neville's fingernails were now digging into her skin, he was squeezing so hard, and Hera felt distinctly ill. No sound came from the spider, but that didn't mean they couldn't hear screaming in their minds, imagined though it was. Moody never let up the spell, and the spider started to shudder all the more violently for it.

"Stop it!" Hermione shrieked, having seen how pale the two had gotten. "Stop it!"

Moody did so, reducing the spider to normal size, though it still twitched on occasion.

"Pain." He continued, as if he hadn't just traumatized them all. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse…That one was very popular once too. Anyone know what the last one is?"

Hermione shakily raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"Avada Kedavra." She whispered.

"Ah." said, Moody. "Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra…The Killing Curse."

The last spider in the jar tried to run when Moody made to grab for it, but as it was in a jar, it didn't make it for long. It was placed on the desktop, and when it started trying to scuttle away.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A flash of blinding light and it was dead, not a mark on it.

"Not nice." Moody continued, as if he didn't notice the shock he'd put his students into, walking through the classroom. "Not pleasant. And there's no counter curse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and she's sitting right in front of me."

If looks could kill, Moody would have been dead, because at that moment Hera very much wanted to kill him. She hadn't known what that flash of green in her nightmares had been. She knew now. If he said anything else, she didn't know it. When the bell rang, both she and Neville were out the door faster than lightning.

Somehow, even though they'd all seen the same thing, most everyone else was amazed at the lesson. They were talking about it like it had been some fantastic show, but not them. Neville couldn't stop shaking, and Hera couldn't get the flash of green out of her head. Ron and Hermione were with them a moment later, but neither one got to ask what was wrong. An odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping towards them.

"It's alright, sonny." He said to Neville, in what could only pass as a low growl…his attempt at being calming, no doubt. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on…We can have a cup of tea…"

Neville looked frightened at the very thought of tea alone with the Professor, and that was all Hera needed to know before she quickly shoved him behind her.

"I don't think so, Professor." Hera stated, coolly. "You've done quite enough, thank you."

"Now there's no need for that kinda tone, lass." Moody insisted as he stepped forward, only to end up with a wand in his face.

"Step away from my friend." Hera demanded. "I will not tell you again."

"You think you can take me on, girly?" Moody asked. She had the distinct impression he was amused by this, but she couldn't tell because of the snarl his face always looked like it was in.

"They won't find enough of you to fill a matchbox." She warned without hesitation, wand still raised. "Care to try your luck?"

There were various gasps and squeaks behind her, but the only thing that mattered was keeping the gaze of the man in front of her. At last, Moody took the step back.

"You've got spunk, lass. I like that." He nodded approvingly. "You're going to need it. Now go on, and take care of your friend. I suspect you'll handle it better'n me anyway."

Only then did she lower her wand, but she didn't leave. Professor Moody took the hint, a slight smirk on his lips, and left on his own. Only when he was out of sight did she hazard to leave with her friends. Every so often, she would look over her shoulder. No one talked till they got to the Great Hall. She sat them with their backs to the wall with Neville next to her, while the others of their year slowly began realizing something was wrong with the pair of them.

"Are you okay, Neville?" She asked quietly.

"Y-yeah." The boy replied shakily. "Just wasn't expecting it."

"I've been having nightmares with that green flash of light for years, only I didn't know what it was." Hera admitted.

"It's worse when you know." Neville sighed in agreement.

"The Cruciatus?" Hera hazards a guess.

"It's why Gran raises me. Mum and Dad are at St. Mungo's. They were tortured with that spell till their minds broke." Neville continued quietly. "Some things are worse than death."