The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy. Snape was handing out schedules as Hermione got to the breakfast table. When he got down to the fourth years, he gave her a sharp look as he handed hers over, and Hermione scanned it over.

"We've got Defense first thing," Blaise said, looking at his. "Defense, Runes, and Arithmancy today."

"I've got to Time-Turn for Runes and Care of Magical Creatures," Hermione told Blaise quietly. She sighed. "They're in the same time slot. At least I don't have Divination anymore – that would make today last far too long."

"We've got Moody first thing on Mondays?" Theo asked. He snorted. "Brilliant."

"Do you know Moody?" Tracey asked, curious.

"Not personally," Theo said, his voice clipped. "But I'm sure you'll see."

After breakfast, the Slytherins joined the Ravenclaws and headed up to the Defense classroom, everyone excited and apprehensive about their new professor.

"They call him Mad-Eye Moody," Mandy Brocklehurst told everyone in a whisper.

"Because of his crazy blue eye?" Daphne asked, her own eyes wide.

"No, because of his nose," Draco snapped, and everyone laughed while Daphne flushed, embarrassed.

Hermione wondered at Draco and Theo's snappishness. Both of them seemed very on-edge, and when they arrived at the classroom, she noted both Draco and Theo took seats in the far back, allowing the Ravenclaws to fill up the front.

When Moody entered, it was with distinctive, clunking footsteps preceding him, and he looked just as strange and frightening as ever. His blue eye swiveled over to look at their copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection out on their desks.

"You can put those away," he growled, stumping over to his desk, "those books. You won't need them."

Moody took out the class register. He scanned it, and he scowled.

"Slytherins and Ravenclaws, first thing on Mondays," he muttered. "Way to make a man want to wake up…"

He began to call roll, fixing his magical eye on each student as they called out.

"Right then," he said, once Blaise Zabini had declared himself present. "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures – you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"But you're behind – very behind – on dealing with curses," said Moody. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark—"

"You're not staying?" Mandy Brocklehurst interrupted, her eyes wide.

Moody's magical eye spun around to look at Mandy; Mandy seemed nervous, but after a moment, Moody smiled. His smile was rather horrifying, making his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever.

"Just the one year," he confirmed. "Special favor to Dumbledore – one year, and then back to my retirement."

He gave a harsh laugh, while Hermione wondered. Would planning ahead on only staying one year avert the curse on the DADA position? If it were her, she'd skip out early and make a substitute fill in for exams.

"So – straight to it. Curses," Moody said. "They come in many strengths and forms."

Moody gave a brief rundown on the importance of seeing curses ahead of time and knowing what they did in terms of Defense, before asking, "Do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

The Ravenclaws' hands all rose into the air, as did many of the Slytherins.

"The Unforgivable Curses," Anthony Goldstein said, when called upon.

"Right you are," Moody growled, writing Unforgiveable Curses down on the chalkboard. "There are three. Who can name one?"

Terry Boot got picked from the sea of hands to answer. "The Imperius Curse."

Moody's face darkened.

"Ah, yes," he growled. "The Imperius Curse." His magical eye spun around to fix on Draco while his normal one stayed looking at Terry. "Imperius and I are old friends."

He reached over and opened his desk, taking out a glass jar with three large spiders in it. Hermione stiffened next to Blaise, who shot her a look of concern.

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Imperio!"

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward 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. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Most of the classroom, especially the Ravenclaws, were laughing.

Moody was not.

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

The laughter died almost instantly.

"Total control," said Moody 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…"

"Years back, many witches and wizards were being controlled by the Imperius Curse," said Moody. His magical eye swiveled, fixing on the back row. "Malfoy!" he barked suddenly. "Why was that a problem?"

Draco flinched, quickly schooling his expression to even out.

"The Ministry had to sort out who was being forced to act under the Imperius Curse, sir," he said, "and who was acting of their own free will."

"Exactly," Moody growled. He looked over the classroom, eyes scanning them all. "A lot of people claiming to be acting under the Imperius Curse that weren't. A lot of people escaped Azkaban with this defense." His magical eye roved over the classroom, lingering on many of the Slytherins. "Some of them went on to procreate."

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching 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!" he barked, and everyone jumped.

Hermione wondered how they were supposed to avoid being hit with it if they couldn't see it coming. The Imperius Curse hadn't issued any kind of light at its casting. Which was unusual, she thought – most spells with incantations did.

"Anyone know another Unforgiveable curse?"

This time, it was the Cruciatus Curse called out. Moody reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it on the desktop, where it remained motionless.

"The Cruciatus Curse," said Moody. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"

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

Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "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. No sound came from it, even as it began to shudder and jerk more violently, but to Hermione, it was screaming, and she couldn't escape.

There were no words – just the horrible, violent twitching and a silent scream that Hermione could hear.

RUN - RUN - PAIN - DYING - FLEE - RUN - PAIN - PAIN - PAIN - PAIN

Rationally, Hermione knew there must be a pheromone the spider was releasing that she was magically understanding somehow – something released in the worst of circumstances only, a panicked death knell so the others could flee.

Magically, though...

Hermione thought she was going to die.

PAIN - PAIN - PAIN - DYING - DYING - RUN - RUN - RUN

Her breath was coming weirdly - she was hyperventilating, but her whole windpipe felt like it was vibrating and she couldn't breathe. Certain doom was closing in, like the horrible dread had in the forest outside the Gaunt Shack, the doom overwhelming her and the edges of her vision going fuzzy and black. Hermione was barely aware of herself rolling off her chair, crouched to run away, her blank eyes darting to Moody and his wand, though she was barely able to see.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Blaise's voice was fierce. "Hermione?"

Moody raised his wand, and the spider's legs relaxed, though it continued to twitch. The horrible, horrible screaming stopped, and Hermione abruptly realized she'd fallen onto the ground.

Blaise helped Hermione back into her chair, while Hermione flushed a deep red, feeling incredibly embarrassed. Moody's magical eye swiveled to fix upon her.

"Arachnophobic?" he asked.

"No," Hermione admitted, badly shaken, "but I can talk to spiders. It was screaming."

The class tittered with laughter, but Moody looked at her consideringly.

"Spiders can't talk," he said.

"I'm aware," Hermione snapped. "They use pheromones and body language instead. And that one was screaming."

Anthony Goldstein was shooting her an incredulous look, but Hermione went on.

"How does that work?" she asked Moody. "Spiders – they don't have the same neurological systems we do. They can register danger and injuries, but they don't have the neurological capability to translate negative stimuli into pain."

Moody looked amused now, the expression twisting his wooden face into an even stranger amalgamation.

"You're Granger, right?" he said, his magical eye spinning to check the register again. "You're the one who stopped the basilisk."

Hermione held her head high, trying to stop her shakes. "I am."

"The spiders tell you what the monster was?" Moody asked. He swept the spider up and put it back into the jar.

"They did," Hermione responded steadily.

"We had to kill one of them first," Blaise added from her side. "They weren't cooperating."

Moody's eye swiveled to fix on him for a moment. It dropped to Blaise's hands on the desk, and Hermione knew he was seeing through the Notice-Me-Not to his coven ring. Hermione put her own hands on her desk as well, and his eye twitched over slightly to hers.

"The curse affects the nervous system directly," Moody said abruptly. "The brain sends pain signals to the rest of the system. If your spiders don't feel pain, it probably interpreted it as danger or fear."

Hermione blinked, surprised he was answering her question.

"The brain generally interprets pain, though, so it's a loop," Moody went on. "In wizards, the brain sends signals to the body, and the Cruciatus Curse sends magic along these pathways. The magic sparks off the nerves and through the myelin sheath surrounding nerves, making them misfire and send a pain response back to the brain. Nothing is physically wrong – save the torture."

He looked back out over the class, while Hermione was momentarily stunned at the detail he'd provided. He knew exactly how it affected the anatomy of the victim – did he know that for all the Dark curses he'd encountered?

"Pain," Moody said softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse. That one was very popular once too."

"Right… anyone know any others?"

Hermione glanced around. From the looks on everyone's faces, they all knew what was going to happen to the third spider.

And when Moody raised his wand, cast Avada Kedavra, and a flash of acid-green light snuffed out the spider's life, absolutely none of them were surprised.


The Slytherins continued discussing the lesson afterward as they headed down to Care of Magical Creatures, down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's hut.

"I don't like it," Hermione said flatly. "He can cast the Unforgivable Curses without batting an eye."

"He's an Auror," Tracey argued. "Of course he can cast them!"

"Dark magic doesn't work like that," Hermione argued. "It's not a question of power or ability – it's a question of motivation."

"What do you mean?" Tracey asked.

"To cast the Cruciatus Curse, you have to want to cause pain," Hermione said. "There's no clinical detachment from it – you have to sadistically want to cause somebody agony. The Killing Curse is similar – it requires an intense hatred and loathing behind it – a sociopathic and cruel desire to deliberately wipe out a life."

"Maybe that's why he uses spiders," Millie suggested. "If he hates them, it'd be easier to cast on them, wouldn't it?"

That was a viewpoint Hermione hadn't considered.

"That's fair," she said thoughtfully. "Hating an insect or spider and wanting to kill it is probably a lot easier than a person. People stomp on insects all the time."

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, and odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid was telling Harry and Ron proudly. "On'y jus' hatched!"

The Blast-Ended Skrewts were horribly pale and slimy-looking, like deformed, shell-less lobsters. They had legs sticking out in very odd places and had no visible heads. They were each about six inches long, crawling over each other and bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches.

They smelled very powerfully of rotting fish.

"On'y jus' hatched, so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves!" Hagrid was saying. "Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"And why would we want to raise them?" Draco asked coldly.

Hagrid whirled around, surprised at their arrival. He looked stumped at the question.

"I mean, what do they do?" Draco drawled. "What is the point of them?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things – I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer – I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake – just try 'em out with a bit of each."

Harry, Neville, and Ron bravely led the way, picking up handfuls of frog spawn to try and feed the skrewts. Hermione, Tracey, Millie, and Susan Bones hung back.

"I know he just wants to make sarcastic remarks," Millie said, watching Draco creep closer with Crabbe and Goyle, "but those things explode. I wouldn't get so close if I were him."

"You have more sense than him," Susan told Millie, giggling. "I'm not getting anywhere close to them, either."

"These are an illegal hybrid breeding project if I've ever seen one," Hermione said exasperatedly. "They don't even have eyes."

"Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?" Lavender Brown asked shrilly.

"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," said Hagrid enthusiastically. "I reckon they're the males. The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies – I think they might be ter suck blood."

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," Draco said loudly, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"

"So what creatures did Hagrid cross?" Tracey asked, looking into the crates with curiosity and disgust. "A scorpion and a lobster?"

"Their ends explode," Hermione pointed out. "I bet that's from a Fire Crab – they shoot flames from their rear ends when attacked."

"Great – that explains the 'blast-ended' part," Millie said, raising an eyebrow. "Now we just have to account for their stingers and blood-suckers."

"…maybe a giant scorpion?" Tracey ventured.

"Knowing Hagrid, probably a manticore," Susan said, huffing. "Hopefully he used the Persian ones, not the Egyptian breed – those ones can grow as large as a dragon."

"A manticore?" Hermione said incredulously. "I'm sorry – aren't they able to kill instantly with their stings?"

"Yes," Susan said grimly. She glanced up at Hermione. "Better pre-order dragonhide gloves for this class just in case."

Hermione was disgusted as she completed the assignment, carefully dropping ant eggs to the three skrewts she'd levitated out of the box and put into a pit she made in the earth. The fact she couldn't trust that a school lesson was safe, because Hagrid hadn't a clue what he was doing, just randomly crossbreeding creatures for fun… that was how Herpo the Foul had ended up making the basilisk, one of the world's deadliest creatures, and she wouldn't put it past Hagrid to accidentally create something even worse.

"Do Fire Crabs lay eggs?" Hermione asked aloud, levitating some frog spawn into her little pit with her skrewts. "Manticores give live birth, don't they?"

"The back half is a scorpion, so maybe not," Millie said. She was throwing chunks of grass snake at her own skrewt in the grass, staying several feet away from it.

"Scorpions give live birth too," Hermione said. "Which you wouldn't expect, really, given they look like insects… I saw a nature documentary on them, once."

After class, Hermione had to Time-Turn back in order to make it to Ancient Runes. Blaise grinned at her as she slid into her seat next to him.

"Have fun with Hagrid?" he murmured, smirking.

"How could you tell?" Hermione said dully.

"Your robes are singed, and you've got frog spawn on your sleeve," he said cheerfully. He turned back to the front of the room. "I'm very glad I picked Ancient Runes over Magical Creatures as an elective."

Hermione privately wondered if it was too late to drop a class.