Since they are much older now (and since I raised the rating to M), I'm gonna be tweaking a lot of their language, with the exception of Hermione, who I feel wouldn't be cursing even if she wanted to. Just giving you a heads up if things in Harry and the other's words seem different.

After all, I believe that this is when the books stopped being for children anyways lol.

Also, question: do you like the chapters when they are really long, or when they are broken down? Let me know in a review :)

Chapter 91: The Unforgivables

The next two days passed without anything really happening, unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. Professor Snape, who seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer, gave Neville detention, and Neville returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads.

"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" I said to Harry as we watched Hermione teaching Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the frog guts from under his fingernails.

"Yeah," said Harry with a laugh. "Moody. I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know,"

"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad," I said, laughing, "and bounced him all around his dungeon."

"And then into the lake into the mouth of the giant squid." finished Harry.

"Oh you two are the worst." Hermione scolded.

Us Gryffindor fourth years were looking forward to Moody's first lesson so much that we arrived early on Thursday lunchtime and lined up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung. The only person missing was Hermione, who turned up just in time for the lesson.

"Been in the -"

"Library." Harry and I. finished her sentence for her.

"Come on, quick, or we won't get decent seats." I said.

We hurried into three chairs right in front of the teacher's desk, took out our copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and waited, unusually quiet. Soon we heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. We could just see his clawed, wooden foot peeking from underneath his robes.

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

I put my book back in my bag. Anytime a teacher says we don't need our books meant that we were going to do some exciting shit.

Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each of us as we answered to our names.

"Right then," he said, when the last person had declared themselves 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?"

We murmured in agreement.

"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 -"

"What, aren't you staying?" I blurted out without thinking.

Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at me. I suddenly felt nervous, but to my surprise, Moody smiled.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody said.

"Yes sir, Ron Weasley." I said proudly.

"Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago...Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore...One year, and then back to my quiet retirement."

He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together.

"So - straight into it. Curses. 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, he 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. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Lavender jumped and blushed. Apparently, she had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head from the looks of it.

"So...do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, mine and Hermione's included. Moody pointed at me, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender.

"My dad told me about one. Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?" I said nervously.

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

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three fucking large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. I tenses up immediately.

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the bastards, and held it in the palm of his hand so that we 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 backflip, 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. I really couldn't help but laugh along with everyone else.

Everyone except Moody.

"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..."

I shuddered, covering my mouth instinctively.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," said Moody, referring to the days when he Who Must Not Be Named was in power. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. 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 all of us jumped.

Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Hermione's hand flew into the air again and so did Neville's, to my surprise The only class in which Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology which was easily his best subject. Neville looked surprised at his own daring.

"Yes?" said Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville.

"There's one - the Cruciatus Curse," said Neville in a small but distinct voice.

Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.

"Your name's Longbottom?" he said, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again.

Neville nodded nervously, but Moody made no further inquiries. Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

"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. Abandoning all pretense, I pushed my chair backward, as far away from Moody's desk as possible.

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, but I was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. It looked as if it wanted to crawl out of its own skin to escape the pain. I was almost feeling sorry for it.

"STOP IT!" screamed Hermione. "CAN'T YOU SEE IT'S BOTHERING HIM, STOP IT!"

I looked around at her. She was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville, whose hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified.

Moody raised his wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

"Reducio," Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.

"Pain," said Moody 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."

Everyone kept their eyes on Neville, who looked a bloody wreck.

"Right...anyone know any others?"

Hermione's hand shook slightly as, for the third time, she raised it into the air.

"Yes?" said Moody, looking at her.

"Avada Kedavra," Hermione whispered.

I looked over at her. She looked as if she wanted to cry.

"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. "Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra...the Killing Curse."

He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface.

Moody raised his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" Moody roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air. And the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries. I fell over backwards in my chair as the spider skidded toward me.

Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.

"Not nice," he said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

Everyone turned to look at Harry, whose face had reddened as Moody's eyes (both of them) looked into his own. He looked shaken, but trying to hide it.

I knew that Harry would probably need a huge slab of chocolate after this. I couldn't imagine what he was thinking, now that he knew the true nature of how his parents had died, and how death hadn't claimed him.

"Avada Kedavra is a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it. You could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it. Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared.

"Now...those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills...copy this down..."

We spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang and we were out of class.

"Did you see it twitch?"

"- and when he killed it - just like that!"

They were talking about the lesson as though it had been some sort of spectacular show. And while it was incredibly exciting, it really wasn't in a good way. Hermione seemed very upset.

"Hurry up," she said tensely to Harry and I.

"Not the ruddy library again?" I said in a poor attempt to joke.

"No," said Hermione curtly, pointing up a side passage. "Neville."

Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

"Neville?" Hermione said gently.

Neville looked around.

"Oh hello," he said, his voice much higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm - I'm starving, aren't you?"

"Neville, are you alright?" said Hermione.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what's for eating?"

Harry and I gave each other startled looks.

"Neville, what -?"

But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All four of us fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than we had yet heard.

"It's all right, sonny," he said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on...we can have a cup of tea..."

Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry.

"You alright, are you, Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry, almost defiantly.

Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry. Then he said, "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you've got to know. No point pretending...well...come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."

Neville looked pleadingly at the three of us, but we didn't know what to say, so Neville had no choice but to allow himself to be steered away, one of Moody's gnarled hands on his shoulder.

"What was that about?" I asked, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.

"I don't know," said Hermione, looking concerned.

"Some lesson, though, eh?" I said to Harry as we set off for the Great Hall. "Fred and George were right, weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right -"

But from the look on Harry's face, it seemed he didn't want to discuss it, so I fell quiet and didn't speak again until we reached the Great Hall, when he suggested we had better make a start on Professor Trelawney's predictions tonight, since we would take hours.

Hermione did not join in with our conversation during dinner, but ate furiously fast, and then left for the library again. Harry and I walked back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Wouldn't Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew we'd seen the curses?" Harry asked as we approached the Fat Lady.

"Yeah, probably," I said. "But Dumbledore's always done things his way, hasn't he, and Moody's been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questions later - look at his dustbins. Balderdash."

The Fat Lady swung forward to reveal the entrance hole, and we climbed into the Gryffindor common room, which was crowded and noisy.

"Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?" said Harry.

"If we must," I groaned.

We went up to the dorm to fetch our books and charts, to find Neville there alone, sitting on his bed, reading. He looked a good deal calmer than at the end of Moody's lesson, though still not entirely normal. His eyes were rather red.

"You alright, Neville?" Harry asked him.

"Oh yes," said Neville, "I'm fine, thanks. Just reading this book Professor Moody lent me."

He held up the book: Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean.

"Apparently, Professor Sprout told Professor Moody I'm really good at Herbology," Neville said. "He thought I'd like this."

Harry and I took our copies of Unfogging the Future back down to the common room, found a table, and set to work on our predictions for the coming month. An hour later, we had made very little progress.

"I haven't got a clue what this shit's supposed to mean," said Harry, staring down at a long list of calculations.

"You know," I said, growing tired, "I think it's back to the old Divination standby."

"What - make it up?"

"Yeah," I said with a smile, dipping my quill into some ink, and starting to write.

"Next Monday," I said as I wrote, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." I looked up at Harry. "You know her - just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up."

"Right," said Harry, crumpling up his first attempt and lobbing it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. "Okay...on Monday, I will be in danger of - er - burns."

"Yeah, you will be," I sighed, "we're seeing the skrewts again on Monday. Okay, Tuesday, I'll...erm..."

"Lose a treasured possession," said Harry, who was flicking through Unfogging the Future for ideas.

"Good one. Because of...erm...Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?"

"Yeah...cool..." said Harry, scribbling it down, "because...Venus is in the twelfth house."

"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight."

"Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet."

"Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight."

"Ooh! Friday, someone will try to take my voice away to keep me from screaming while torturing me, because the Sun will be in the 4th house."

"My scar will split open on Monday and release a demon because of the full moon." laughed Harry.

"Oh that's brilliant! Let's see, my bollucks will shrivel up two Thursdays from now because of the star's alignment mixing up with the planets!"

We continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while the common room around us slowly emptied as people went up to bed. Crookshanks wandered over to us, leapt lightly into an empty chair, and stared at Harry like Hermione might look if she knew they weren't doing their homework properly.

Staring around the room, trying to think of a kind of misfortune I hadn't yet used, I saw Fred and George sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together, quills out, poring over a single piece of parchment. It was most unusual to see Fred and George hidden away in a corner and working silently; they usually liked to be in the thick of things and the noisy center of attention. There was something secretive about the way they were working on the piece of parchment, but it didn't look like it was about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes this time; if it had been, they would surely have let Lee Jordan in on the joke.

L"No - that sounds like we're accusing him. Got to be careful..." In overheard Fred say.

Then George looked over and saw Harry and I watching him. I grinned and quickly returned to my predictions. Shortly after that, the twins rolled up their parchment, said goodnight, and went off to bed.

Hermione climbed into the common room ten minutes later, carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other. Crookshanks arched his back, purring.

"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"

"So have I!" I said triumphantly, throwing down my quill.

Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled my predictions toward her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically as Crookshanks curled up in her lap.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," I said as I yawned.

"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.

"Oh am I? I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."

"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" said Hermione.

"How dare you!" I said, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It's just an expression," I said hastily. "Sorry."

Harry laid down his quill too, having just finished predicting his own death by decapitation from the looks of it.

"What's in the box?" he asked Hermione, pointing at it.

"Funny you should ask," said Hermione. She took off the lid and showed us the contents.

Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colors, but all bearing the same letters: S. P. E .W.

"Spew?" said Harry, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's this about?"

"Not spew," said Hermione impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Never heard of it." I said.

"Well, of course you haven't," said Hermione briskly, "I've only just started it."

"Yeah?" I said in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well, if you two join, three." said Hermione.

"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" I said, looking over the badge.

"S-P-E-W!" said Hermione irritably. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status - but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

She brandished the sheaf of parchment at us.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."

"Hermione, open your ears." I said loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"

"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than me, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."

"And how do we do all this?" Harry asked.

"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron, I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting."

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the pair of us. Harry looked as if he didn't know what to say, while I looked at her heavily amused. It was rather cute actually, seeing her trying to save the house elves from the life that they loved.

The silence was broken by a soft tap, tap on the window. Harry looked across the now empty common room and saw, Hedwig perched on the windowsill.

"Hedwig!" he shouted, and he launched himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window.

Hedwig flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's predictions.

"About time!" said Harry, hurrying after her.

"She's got an answer!" I said excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg.

Harry untied it and sat down to read. Hedwig fluttered onto his knee, hooting softly.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry. Harry read it aloud:

Harry -

I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here.

If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore. They're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.

I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry.

Sirius

Harry looked up at us.

"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming back?"

"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" I said, confused. "Harry, what's up?"

For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist, jolting Hedwig out of his lap.

"I shouldn't have told him!" Harry said furiously.

"What are you on about?" I asked.

"It's made him think he's got to come back!" said Harry, now slamming his fist on the table so that Hedwig landed on the back of my chair, hooting. "Coming back, because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me! And I haven't got anything for you," Harry snapped at Hedwig, who was clicking her beak expectantly, "you'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food."

Hedwig gave him an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing him around the head with her outstretched wing as she went.

"Harry," Hermione began, in a pacifying sort of voice.

"I'm going to bed," said Harry shortly. "See you in the morning."

Hermione and I watched as Harry huffed towards the dorm.

"Well, that was barmy." said Hermione.

"Yeah. Barmy. I mean I understand he doesn't want Sirius caught, but the man wouldn't risk coming if he knew he would be safe"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, but Harry isn't going to think that way. You know how he gets sometimes."

"Yeah." I agreed.

Hermione looked at me in a way that seemed rather funny. Not in a "haha" way, but a nervous way. She then took her fingers and attempted to brush something out of my hair.

"Looks like you have a bit of ink on your hair." she said in a low voice.

I felt my face grow hot, giving my blushing away. "Must have gotten there when I turned my head. Hair is getting a bit shaggy, don't you think?"

Hermione smiled, touching my hair once again. "Actually, I think it looks very nice on you."

"Really? So you actually like my long hair?" I said, liking the sensation of Hermione tussling my locks.

"Sure. Makes you look more...rugged I guess." she said, pulling her hand back as if she finally realized what she was doing.

I grinned. I didn't know who her compliment had me feeling like a git.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow." I said.

"Yeah, tomorrow." said Hermione, slowly.

"Ummmm...bye!" I said, almost skipping (for some dumb fucking reason) away to my dorm.

I went into the dorm and seen that Harry was playing sleep. He snored louder than I did, so I knew he was awake with his eyes closed.

I went into the bathroom, actually regretting that I had to wash my hair. However, I had to get the ink out.

After my shower, I got into my pajamas and climbed into bed.