Categories > Books > Harry Potter > To Rewrite History
First Week Back: Unforgivables and Martyr Issues
3 reviewsHarry and Draco grumble about the first years over breakfast, Cedric and Harry plot about pick-up Quidditch games, Hermione gets inventive, Neville gets scared, and Draco snaps Harry out of his sel...
4Original
Latecomers to breakfast the morning after the Sorting Feast were treated to the startling sight of Draco Malfoy sitting with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley at the Gryffindor table, blithely eating croissants and ignoring the other Gryffindors, who were gamely ignoring him back.
"Only two new Slytherins," Draco was lamenting as Ginny slid into the seat next to Harry. "You lot got the most firsties."
Harry raised his eyebrow at Draco and murmured a quiet "refill cappuccino" to his mug. "What, those firsties?" He indicated a group of tiny students sitting close by, staring at him avidly. "You're welcome to them. All they do is follow us around and try to catch a peek at my scar."
"Bloody creepy little sprogs," Ron muttered into his bacon.
"If they were in our house, they'd never have such appalling manners," Draco drawled, amused. One of the eavesdroppers blushed.
"Beat it out of them, do you?" Ginny quipped.
He looked at her, appalled. "How could you say such things, Girl Weasley? That's far too bloody. No," he said, shaking his head, "We hex them silly."
"Much more civilized," Harry agreed with a straight face.
The first years, thoroughly shocked, decided to let their hero eat his breakfast in peace.
"Well, and good morning to you, too, Harry," Cedric said cheerfully, swinging a leg over the bench and straddling it. He waved his friends out the door with a smile. "Nice to see you so chipper and bloodthirsty this fine day."
"It's not my fault," Harry protested. Draco and Ginny snickered. It really isn't, he figured. "They're all ogling me, and I've not had more than two cups of coffee yet! It's inhumane, is what it is."
Cedric shook his head. "They'll learn," he sighed. He straightened and said sternly to the small boys and girls trying studiously to look like they weren't listening in, "Look, you lot, Harry's a student here just like you. Let him alone, alright?"
They all went crimson and nodded their agreement to the handsome Head Boy.
"Much as I love the idea of the Triwizard Tournament, it's no good missing Quidditch for a whole year," Cedric said with regret.
"I'm with you on that," Draco agreed. He leaned across the table and poked Harry, who had his eyes cracked open to slits and mouth glued to the rim of his mug. "Hey Potter! What do you think of organizing some pick-up games this year?"
With a bit of effort, Harry set the mug down and said slowly, "I think that'd be fine. If they're not at a horrid hour."
Ron snickered. "We're none of us Oliver Wood, Harry," he said, amused. "Puddlemere has him, let them deal with the madman."
"He was a fanatic, but he did his job," Harry pointed out. "Lost to Ravenclaw my first year when I was in Hospital, a cancelled match my second year...won the Cup last year..."
Cedric chuckled and took one of the pastries in the center of the table. "He's a fearsome Keeper, that's for sure. Most of us who played against him are glad you have to train up a replacement."
"I want to get Ron out there," Harry said.
Ron choked on his pumpkin juice. "I thought you were joking, mate!"
Cedric eyed him dispassionately. "Not a bad idea, Harry," he agreed. "He has the reach to stop just about anything that comes his way."
Ron flushed at the assessment and muttered his thanks.
"Hey TOWLER!" George bellowed from down the table. Harry slopped his coffee onto his plate of eggs and cursed angrily.
A tall, pink-cheeked blond youth jumped at the shout and almost dropped the pile of papers he was carrying. "WHAT, Weasley?" he answered testily.
"You have our schedules," Fred said impatiently. George held his hand out, grinning. "Let's have them, then, Kenny, there's a good man."
Towler tossed the schedules in front of his year-mates negligently. "There you are, tossers," he snorted. He riffled through the stack and pulled out the three Gryffindors' course lists and handed them over.
"'Lo, Towler," Cedric said, grinning.
"Morning, Cedric. Sprout caught you with your schedule yet?"
"Mm. Charms this morning."
"Bugger," Harry muttered, looking his classes over. "I'm not awake enough for Herbology yet."
Draco leaned over and tugged his schedule out of his hands. "Huh. Pair up with Longbottom. It's his best subject, isn't it? That, and have another cup of coffee. You'll survive. I've Transfigurations. At the rate I'm waking up, I'm liable to transfigure a classmate on accident."
Cedric laughed and stood up from the table. "Take a picture if you do, Malfoy. I'm off to Charms, fellows." He nodded at Harry and smiled. "Get in touch with me about those pick-up Quidditch games, will you, Harry?"
"Bye, Cedric," Ginny called out as the handsome boy walked away.
"Nice chap," Ron said. "Think we can convince him to play on our team on the pick-up games?"
"He's a Seeker, Weasley," Draco pointed out. "You want two Seekers?"
Ron shrugged. "He could play Chaser."
Harry stuck his empty mug into his book bag and got up from the table. "I'm going to the greenhouses before the coffee wears off," he informed his friends. "Ron, could you swing by the library and get Hermione? She's had her nose buried in Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms since she woke up."
Ron waved him off. "See you at Herbology, then."
Harry grinned at Draco, planted a chaste kiss on Ginny's cheek, and walked out the door.
**
When Harry stepped through the portrait hole into the common room after dinner, he was immediately accosted by several people.
"Harry old chap!"
"What's all this we heard from Diggory about pick-up Quidditch?"
"Do you need Beaters?"
"Do you need an announcer?"
Harry held his hands up to fend off the Weasley twins and Lee. "Shite, mates, let me put the announcement up on the notice board first," he joked. As he spellotaped the parchment over a few mangled Chocolate Frog cards, he added, "We're not playing along house lines, and we're going to wait for the other schools to arrive so they can join as well."
"But you need Beaters," Fred said eagerly.
"Of course we'll need Beaters! Who's going to keep the bludgers off us otherwise?" Harry asked, teasing.
They stepped up to read the page and put their names down, and Harry slipped away. He flopped down comfortably on one of the squashy armchairs near the fireplace. Ginny and Ron were bent over parchments and books, firelight glinting off their coppery hair. Hermione was chewing on the end of her quill and reading over her Arithmancy homework.
"Evening," Harry said companionably.
"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed. "Hermione's been too busy with her Hieroglyphs essay to help me out. You did this; how do you figure the numbers?"
"Forget that, Harry," Ron interrupted pleadingly. "I need at least eight more ways to die before the month is out."
"Just the one, Ron," Harry said.
"Ah, better make it a good one then." Ron sat poised, quill hovering over parchment.
"Er...you'll narrowly escape death on Friday from exploding potions, because...Neptune is...in retrograde," Harry finished triumphantly. "That's almost a sure bet, really. Neptune aside."
Ginny leaned her head against his shoulder and looked up at him with wide brown eyes. "So the numeric value for words corresponds with..." she started.
"No, no," he corrected. "It's numbers assigned to letters, one through thirteen, repeating. You've yet to do actual calculations. All you have to do is figure out your first and last name added separately and together, and explain the number value in an essay."
"Which hieroglyph did you write your essay on, Harry?" Hermione asked. He handed her a roll of parchment just a bit shorter than hers.
"I wrote the Journey Rune and its uses in daily life. Did you know it's often embossed on the bottom of boots and carved on trunks?" Harry ignored Ron's eye roll at his enthusiasm for his new class.
"That's fascinating," said Hermione eagerly. "I chose the Self, Inverted, and how it applies to glamour spells."
"Now that's interesting," Harry commented. "Do you think if it was embroidered around the hood of a cloak, a person's face could be obscured?"
"It's always possible," she murmured, drawing parchment toward her. "Still, that's such a small area, almost like limited transfigurations- and the limitations on the runes would have to be spelled just so to keep the cloak itself from being obscured...." She trailed off as her quill scratched furiously across the parchment, calculations unfolding.
"You might want to take a look at Theories of Transubstantial Transfigurations," he pointed out. "I can pick it up for you tomorrow in the library if you want."
"No bother," she muttered, still writing. "I'll get it. Madam Pince likes me better."
"Alright," he said lightly. "In that case, I'm off to bed. I want to be awake enough to understand Binns tomorrow morning."
Ginny looked up from her essay and smiled. "Good night, Harry," she murmured, and kissed his cheek quickly. He pecked her gently on the forehead and stood up.
"Night all. See you when you finish your homework, Ron."
Ron grunted. He was still working out the logistics of dying eleven horrible deaths before the month was up.
A rustling of bed sheets in the four-poster next to him woke Harry up from his light sleep. "Mmn? G'night, Ron," he yawned.
"Night, Harry," his friend whispered back. "Thursday's gonna be great, you know? Fred and George say Moody's brilliant."
But Harry was already asleep again.
**
The Gryffindors stood outside Moody's classroom that Thursday, waiting for the door to open. They were filled with an odd nervous energy that was equal parts trepidation and terror. The legendary, paranoid, "hex first ask questions later" Mad-Eye Moody was teaching at their school.
As a knot of Slytherin students walked, laughing, down the hall, Ted Nott broke away and tugged on Harry's arm.
"Be careful in that class," he hissed. "I heard Macmillan had to take Susan Bones to the Hospital Wing during Moody's lesson this morning. Couldn't stop crying."
Harry nodded his thanks for the warning as the door opened, and Ted hurried to catch up with Blaise and Tracey.
The grizzled man loomed out at them from the doorway, glaring with his good eye while the fake one spun in dizzying circles.
"Well?" he demanded. "You coming in or not? It's your class time."
Cowed, the students filed in silently and took seats as far back as they could.
Moody glared at them from the front of the class as they settled in. "You'll not need books nor wands today, class," he barked. "This is a demonstration lesson."
They eagerly packed everything away and turned their attention to Moody again. Inside Hermione's book bag, a dicto-quill was recording the lesson.
"I've looked over the course notes from your past years," he said gruffly, "And while you're up to date on Dark creatures, you apparently know next to nothing about curses. I'll be taking care of that this year."
"Now!" The class jumped at his raised voice. "Who can tell me which class of spells get an automatic sentence in Azkaban?"
Ron raised his hand.
"Weasley, eh? Go on."
"The Unforgivables, sir," he said promptly. Having a Ministry official for a father, he knew a bit about the laws.
"Very good. There are three of them," Moody continued. His electric blue eye darted around the classroom. "You there! Name one."
Lavender Brown looked a bit unsure. "The, er, Imperius, sir?"
"That's right!" Moody slapped his hand on the desk, a sharp retort echoing around the walls. "Lots of Death Eaters used that excuse to get out of Azkaban when their master was killed."
He reached into a jar on his desk and pulled out a spider. "I'm going to show you what these curses can do." He aimed his wand at the spider and said firmly, "/Imperio/."
The spider began to sway back and forth as if to an unheard beat. Its eight legs lifted and started to dance in an oddly coordinated movement. A few people laughed uneasily.
"It's funny now," Moody growled. "It isn't funny when I order it to bite you, or drown itself." The class went silent. "It's not so funny when a man under the curse kills his whole family."
Moody lifted the curse and put the spider back into its jar. "Who has the next Unforgivable for me?"
Neville raised a trembling hand. "Th-the Cruciatus," he mumbled.
"Longbottom, am I right?" Moody looked at him closely, and scooped out another spider from a jar. "That's correct, Longbottom. The Torture Curse is an Unforgivable for inflicting overwhelming pain in a victim."
He turned and tapped the spider. "Engorgio/." The spider grew to be the size of a small cat. "You'll need to see the spider clearly to understand just what the curse does. /Crucio!"
Harry and his classmates watched in horror as the spider writhed on the desktop, its limbs flailing in an attempt to release itself from the pain. An almost inaudible keening could be heard above the sound of its legs skittering against the desk.
"STOP!" Hermione cried. "What are you doing to /Neville/?"
As Moody released the curse, Harry looked over at Neville. He was white as a sheet, staring blankly at the spider. His fingertips were bloodless as he clenched the desk in front of him, sweat dripping down his face.
"Come on, Neville," Harry said bracingly. "I'll take you to the Hospital wing."
"We're not done with the lesson, boys," Moody said. "Still have a curse to cover."
"Seen it, lived through it, have nightmares about it," Harry replied impatiently. "Show the rest of them. I've a friend to get to Madam Pomfrey."
"Ten points from Gryffindor for leaving early," Moody said gruffly. "But take Longbottom if you must."
Harry nodded and slung an arm gently around Neville's shoulders, helping him stand up and walk to the door. The rest of the class watched them go in silence. As they moved down the hall, Harry could hear the lesson start up again.
**
After leaving Neville resting in a hospital bed, Calming Potions in his stomach, Harry walked the halls restlessly. He couldn't go back down to the Hall and eat, not after seeing his friend in such a state. He wandered in a haze, thinking furiously and cursing the new professor.
"-ry? Harry! Potter!"
Harry whirled around. Draco was jogging toward him, carrying something in a napkin.
"Granger told me what happened in Defense today," his new friend told him. "Figured with your martyr issues you'd not come down to eat supper. I brought you some from the table, instead."
Harry grinned weakly. "Taking care of me, are you?" he commented. He took the bundle from Draco as they started walking again.
"Guess so," Draco replied. "Someone has to watch out for the hero, right?"
"Thanks," Harry said, oddly touched. He bit into a toasted cheese sandwich and asked, "So where are we going, anyway?"
"Well," Draco drawled, "I thought it might be nice to enjoy an empty Quidditch pitch and the Slytherin team brooms. What say you?"
Harry laughed. "I'm in. I could use a bit of a fly around right now, honestly."
Draco through open the doors of the broom shed. "You always seem happiest when you're flying," he said over his shoulder as he pulled two Nimbus 2001s out of the corner.
"Didn't know you studied me that intensely," Harry answered, eyebrow raised in amusement.
"Yes, well," Draco muttered. He straightened up and scoffed. "Know thine enemy, right, Potter?"
Harry let it go. "Sure, Malfoy." He polished off his sandwich and kicked off from the ground.
"You tosser!" he heard from far below him. "Wait for me!"
But Harry, wind in his hair and ears, soaring above the pitch, wasn't about to wait.
**
The two schoolboys, windswept and laughing breathlessly, staggered back into Hogwarts as the sun was beginning to set around twenty-one hundred.
"That was brilliant, Draco, thanks," Harry enthused.
"We're going to do that again soon," Draco agreed fervently.
They looked around at the sparsely populated hall. "Huh," Draco said. "Later than I thought."
"Still have an hour before curfew," Harry said with a shrug. "But I ought to go track down a teacher."
"What's that all about, anyway?" Draco asked curiously. "You and the teachers and the prefects always talking after dinner."
"I've turned into an insomniac," Harry said. Partly true, anyway, he added to himself. "They let me walk the rounds with them until I'm tired."
His friend gave him a shrewd look that saw far too much for comfort, but he didn't press it.
"Potter," a bright and wide-awake voice called out. "I don't have class tonight, you're walking with me."
Harry turned and nodded a grateful hello to Professor Sinistra, who was clutching a large mug in one hand. "Good evening, Professor," he said politely.
"Is it evening, really?" she asked. "Funny, that. I just woke up. There's this little elf wearing a tea cozy on his head who brought me very strong coffee. Must thank him tomorrow."
Draco and Harry exchanged glances. "That would be Dobby, most likely," Draco told her. "He used to work for my family. He's a bit touched, but he makes excellent coffee."
"Very touched," Harry added wryly.
"Ah well," Sinistra said with a laugh. "At least the coffee's good." She made a flapping motion at Draco with her free hand. "Off you go, Mr. Malfoy, your common room's a ways away."
Draco clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Good night, Potter," he said cheerfully. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Thanks for everything," Harry responded in kind. "I expect you'll be stealing my pastries at the breakfast table tomorrow."
Draco laughed and walked away.
**
Professor Sinistra made a very interesting conversationalist, to Harry's pleasant surprise. She explained the connection between Astronomy and Herbology, Potions, Divination, and Arithmancy with very clear examples and a bright wit that, more than once, had Harry clapping a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing too loudly.
At a bit past one-thirty, she dropped him at the Fat Lady's portrait with a cheery, "Good morning, Potter! Get some sleep, now!"
Harry flopped into his bed, intent on doing just that...
**
He sat up in bed as the grey light of dawn entered the room, heart pounding in his ears. "Sod this," he whispered. "I have to see Dumbledore."
author sez
1. Don't shoot the author for the cliffie!
2. 31415: I'm going to have Harry interact with most of the staff on his nightly walks, so they can be made more "aware" of the lives of their students. A walk with Snape is a few chapters away. Also, I solemnly swear (heh) I will not inflict Ron on Hermione. I promise.
3. Anaknisatanas: "Moody" and Snape will have their showdown eventually. It'll be interesting, but not as interesting as the one between Snape and Harry when they finally get it all out.
"Only two new Slytherins," Draco was lamenting as Ginny slid into the seat next to Harry. "You lot got the most firsties."
Harry raised his eyebrow at Draco and murmured a quiet "refill cappuccino" to his mug. "What, those firsties?" He indicated a group of tiny students sitting close by, staring at him avidly. "You're welcome to them. All they do is follow us around and try to catch a peek at my scar."
"Bloody creepy little sprogs," Ron muttered into his bacon.
"If they were in our house, they'd never have such appalling manners," Draco drawled, amused. One of the eavesdroppers blushed.
"Beat it out of them, do you?" Ginny quipped.
He looked at her, appalled. "How could you say such things, Girl Weasley? That's far too bloody. No," he said, shaking his head, "We hex them silly."
"Much more civilized," Harry agreed with a straight face.
The first years, thoroughly shocked, decided to let their hero eat his breakfast in peace.
"Well, and good morning to you, too, Harry," Cedric said cheerfully, swinging a leg over the bench and straddling it. He waved his friends out the door with a smile. "Nice to see you so chipper and bloodthirsty this fine day."
"It's not my fault," Harry protested. Draco and Ginny snickered. It really isn't, he figured. "They're all ogling me, and I've not had more than two cups of coffee yet! It's inhumane, is what it is."
Cedric shook his head. "They'll learn," he sighed. He straightened and said sternly to the small boys and girls trying studiously to look like they weren't listening in, "Look, you lot, Harry's a student here just like you. Let him alone, alright?"
They all went crimson and nodded their agreement to the handsome Head Boy.
"Much as I love the idea of the Triwizard Tournament, it's no good missing Quidditch for a whole year," Cedric said with regret.
"I'm with you on that," Draco agreed. He leaned across the table and poked Harry, who had his eyes cracked open to slits and mouth glued to the rim of his mug. "Hey Potter! What do you think of organizing some pick-up games this year?"
With a bit of effort, Harry set the mug down and said slowly, "I think that'd be fine. If they're not at a horrid hour."
Ron snickered. "We're none of us Oliver Wood, Harry," he said, amused. "Puddlemere has him, let them deal with the madman."
"He was a fanatic, but he did his job," Harry pointed out. "Lost to Ravenclaw my first year when I was in Hospital, a cancelled match my second year...won the Cup last year..."
Cedric chuckled and took one of the pastries in the center of the table. "He's a fearsome Keeper, that's for sure. Most of us who played against him are glad you have to train up a replacement."
"I want to get Ron out there," Harry said.
Ron choked on his pumpkin juice. "I thought you were joking, mate!"
Cedric eyed him dispassionately. "Not a bad idea, Harry," he agreed. "He has the reach to stop just about anything that comes his way."
Ron flushed at the assessment and muttered his thanks.
"Hey TOWLER!" George bellowed from down the table. Harry slopped his coffee onto his plate of eggs and cursed angrily.
A tall, pink-cheeked blond youth jumped at the shout and almost dropped the pile of papers he was carrying. "WHAT, Weasley?" he answered testily.
"You have our schedules," Fred said impatiently. George held his hand out, grinning. "Let's have them, then, Kenny, there's a good man."
Towler tossed the schedules in front of his year-mates negligently. "There you are, tossers," he snorted. He riffled through the stack and pulled out the three Gryffindors' course lists and handed them over.
"'Lo, Towler," Cedric said, grinning.
"Morning, Cedric. Sprout caught you with your schedule yet?"
"Mm. Charms this morning."
"Bugger," Harry muttered, looking his classes over. "I'm not awake enough for Herbology yet."
Draco leaned over and tugged his schedule out of his hands. "Huh. Pair up with Longbottom. It's his best subject, isn't it? That, and have another cup of coffee. You'll survive. I've Transfigurations. At the rate I'm waking up, I'm liable to transfigure a classmate on accident."
Cedric laughed and stood up from the table. "Take a picture if you do, Malfoy. I'm off to Charms, fellows." He nodded at Harry and smiled. "Get in touch with me about those pick-up Quidditch games, will you, Harry?"
"Bye, Cedric," Ginny called out as the handsome boy walked away.
"Nice chap," Ron said. "Think we can convince him to play on our team on the pick-up games?"
"He's a Seeker, Weasley," Draco pointed out. "You want two Seekers?"
Ron shrugged. "He could play Chaser."
Harry stuck his empty mug into his book bag and got up from the table. "I'm going to the greenhouses before the coffee wears off," he informed his friends. "Ron, could you swing by the library and get Hermione? She's had her nose buried in Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms since she woke up."
Ron waved him off. "See you at Herbology, then."
Harry grinned at Draco, planted a chaste kiss on Ginny's cheek, and walked out the door.
**
When Harry stepped through the portrait hole into the common room after dinner, he was immediately accosted by several people.
"Harry old chap!"
"What's all this we heard from Diggory about pick-up Quidditch?"
"Do you need Beaters?"
"Do you need an announcer?"
Harry held his hands up to fend off the Weasley twins and Lee. "Shite, mates, let me put the announcement up on the notice board first," he joked. As he spellotaped the parchment over a few mangled Chocolate Frog cards, he added, "We're not playing along house lines, and we're going to wait for the other schools to arrive so they can join as well."
"But you need Beaters," Fred said eagerly.
"Of course we'll need Beaters! Who's going to keep the bludgers off us otherwise?" Harry asked, teasing.
They stepped up to read the page and put their names down, and Harry slipped away. He flopped down comfortably on one of the squashy armchairs near the fireplace. Ginny and Ron were bent over parchments and books, firelight glinting off their coppery hair. Hermione was chewing on the end of her quill and reading over her Arithmancy homework.
"Evening," Harry said companionably.
"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed. "Hermione's been too busy with her Hieroglyphs essay to help me out. You did this; how do you figure the numbers?"
"Forget that, Harry," Ron interrupted pleadingly. "I need at least eight more ways to die before the month is out."
"Just the one, Ron," Harry said.
"Ah, better make it a good one then." Ron sat poised, quill hovering over parchment.
"Er...you'll narrowly escape death on Friday from exploding potions, because...Neptune is...in retrograde," Harry finished triumphantly. "That's almost a sure bet, really. Neptune aside."
Ginny leaned her head against his shoulder and looked up at him with wide brown eyes. "So the numeric value for words corresponds with..." she started.
"No, no," he corrected. "It's numbers assigned to letters, one through thirteen, repeating. You've yet to do actual calculations. All you have to do is figure out your first and last name added separately and together, and explain the number value in an essay."
"Which hieroglyph did you write your essay on, Harry?" Hermione asked. He handed her a roll of parchment just a bit shorter than hers.
"I wrote the Journey Rune and its uses in daily life. Did you know it's often embossed on the bottom of boots and carved on trunks?" Harry ignored Ron's eye roll at his enthusiasm for his new class.
"That's fascinating," said Hermione eagerly. "I chose the Self, Inverted, and how it applies to glamour spells."
"Now that's interesting," Harry commented. "Do you think if it was embroidered around the hood of a cloak, a person's face could be obscured?"
"It's always possible," she murmured, drawing parchment toward her. "Still, that's such a small area, almost like limited transfigurations- and the limitations on the runes would have to be spelled just so to keep the cloak itself from being obscured...." She trailed off as her quill scratched furiously across the parchment, calculations unfolding.
"You might want to take a look at Theories of Transubstantial Transfigurations," he pointed out. "I can pick it up for you tomorrow in the library if you want."
"No bother," she muttered, still writing. "I'll get it. Madam Pince likes me better."
"Alright," he said lightly. "In that case, I'm off to bed. I want to be awake enough to understand Binns tomorrow morning."
Ginny looked up from her essay and smiled. "Good night, Harry," she murmured, and kissed his cheek quickly. He pecked her gently on the forehead and stood up.
"Night all. See you when you finish your homework, Ron."
Ron grunted. He was still working out the logistics of dying eleven horrible deaths before the month was up.
A rustling of bed sheets in the four-poster next to him woke Harry up from his light sleep. "Mmn? G'night, Ron," he yawned.
"Night, Harry," his friend whispered back. "Thursday's gonna be great, you know? Fred and George say Moody's brilliant."
But Harry was already asleep again.
**
The Gryffindors stood outside Moody's classroom that Thursday, waiting for the door to open. They were filled with an odd nervous energy that was equal parts trepidation and terror. The legendary, paranoid, "hex first ask questions later" Mad-Eye Moody was teaching at their school.
As a knot of Slytherin students walked, laughing, down the hall, Ted Nott broke away and tugged on Harry's arm.
"Be careful in that class," he hissed. "I heard Macmillan had to take Susan Bones to the Hospital Wing during Moody's lesson this morning. Couldn't stop crying."
Harry nodded his thanks for the warning as the door opened, and Ted hurried to catch up with Blaise and Tracey.
The grizzled man loomed out at them from the doorway, glaring with his good eye while the fake one spun in dizzying circles.
"Well?" he demanded. "You coming in or not? It's your class time."
Cowed, the students filed in silently and took seats as far back as they could.
Moody glared at them from the front of the class as they settled in. "You'll not need books nor wands today, class," he barked. "This is a demonstration lesson."
They eagerly packed everything away and turned their attention to Moody again. Inside Hermione's book bag, a dicto-quill was recording the lesson.
"I've looked over the course notes from your past years," he said gruffly, "And while you're up to date on Dark creatures, you apparently know next to nothing about curses. I'll be taking care of that this year."
"Now!" The class jumped at his raised voice. "Who can tell me which class of spells get an automatic sentence in Azkaban?"
Ron raised his hand.
"Weasley, eh? Go on."
"The Unforgivables, sir," he said promptly. Having a Ministry official for a father, he knew a bit about the laws.
"Very good. There are three of them," Moody continued. His electric blue eye darted around the classroom. "You there! Name one."
Lavender Brown looked a bit unsure. "The, er, Imperius, sir?"
"That's right!" Moody slapped his hand on the desk, a sharp retort echoing around the walls. "Lots of Death Eaters used that excuse to get out of Azkaban when their master was killed."
He reached into a jar on his desk and pulled out a spider. "I'm going to show you what these curses can do." He aimed his wand at the spider and said firmly, "/Imperio/."
The spider began to sway back and forth as if to an unheard beat. Its eight legs lifted and started to dance in an oddly coordinated movement. A few people laughed uneasily.
"It's funny now," Moody growled. "It isn't funny when I order it to bite you, or drown itself." The class went silent. "It's not so funny when a man under the curse kills his whole family."
Moody lifted the curse and put the spider back into its jar. "Who has the next Unforgivable for me?"
Neville raised a trembling hand. "Th-the Cruciatus," he mumbled.
"Longbottom, am I right?" Moody looked at him closely, and scooped out another spider from a jar. "That's correct, Longbottom. The Torture Curse is an Unforgivable for inflicting overwhelming pain in a victim."
He turned and tapped the spider. "Engorgio/." The spider grew to be the size of a small cat. "You'll need to see the spider clearly to understand just what the curse does. /Crucio!"
Harry and his classmates watched in horror as the spider writhed on the desktop, its limbs flailing in an attempt to release itself from the pain. An almost inaudible keening could be heard above the sound of its legs skittering against the desk.
"STOP!" Hermione cried. "What are you doing to /Neville/?"
As Moody released the curse, Harry looked over at Neville. He was white as a sheet, staring blankly at the spider. His fingertips were bloodless as he clenched the desk in front of him, sweat dripping down his face.
"Come on, Neville," Harry said bracingly. "I'll take you to the Hospital wing."
"We're not done with the lesson, boys," Moody said. "Still have a curse to cover."
"Seen it, lived through it, have nightmares about it," Harry replied impatiently. "Show the rest of them. I've a friend to get to Madam Pomfrey."
"Ten points from Gryffindor for leaving early," Moody said gruffly. "But take Longbottom if you must."
Harry nodded and slung an arm gently around Neville's shoulders, helping him stand up and walk to the door. The rest of the class watched them go in silence. As they moved down the hall, Harry could hear the lesson start up again.
**
After leaving Neville resting in a hospital bed, Calming Potions in his stomach, Harry walked the halls restlessly. He couldn't go back down to the Hall and eat, not after seeing his friend in such a state. He wandered in a haze, thinking furiously and cursing the new professor.
"-ry? Harry! Potter!"
Harry whirled around. Draco was jogging toward him, carrying something in a napkin.
"Granger told me what happened in Defense today," his new friend told him. "Figured with your martyr issues you'd not come down to eat supper. I brought you some from the table, instead."
Harry grinned weakly. "Taking care of me, are you?" he commented. He took the bundle from Draco as they started walking again.
"Guess so," Draco replied. "Someone has to watch out for the hero, right?"
"Thanks," Harry said, oddly touched. He bit into a toasted cheese sandwich and asked, "So where are we going, anyway?"
"Well," Draco drawled, "I thought it might be nice to enjoy an empty Quidditch pitch and the Slytherin team brooms. What say you?"
Harry laughed. "I'm in. I could use a bit of a fly around right now, honestly."
Draco through open the doors of the broom shed. "You always seem happiest when you're flying," he said over his shoulder as he pulled two Nimbus 2001s out of the corner.
"Didn't know you studied me that intensely," Harry answered, eyebrow raised in amusement.
"Yes, well," Draco muttered. He straightened up and scoffed. "Know thine enemy, right, Potter?"
Harry let it go. "Sure, Malfoy." He polished off his sandwich and kicked off from the ground.
"You tosser!" he heard from far below him. "Wait for me!"
But Harry, wind in his hair and ears, soaring above the pitch, wasn't about to wait.
**
The two schoolboys, windswept and laughing breathlessly, staggered back into Hogwarts as the sun was beginning to set around twenty-one hundred.
"That was brilliant, Draco, thanks," Harry enthused.
"We're going to do that again soon," Draco agreed fervently.
They looked around at the sparsely populated hall. "Huh," Draco said. "Later than I thought."
"Still have an hour before curfew," Harry said with a shrug. "But I ought to go track down a teacher."
"What's that all about, anyway?" Draco asked curiously. "You and the teachers and the prefects always talking after dinner."
"I've turned into an insomniac," Harry said. Partly true, anyway, he added to himself. "They let me walk the rounds with them until I'm tired."
His friend gave him a shrewd look that saw far too much for comfort, but he didn't press it.
"Potter," a bright and wide-awake voice called out. "I don't have class tonight, you're walking with me."
Harry turned and nodded a grateful hello to Professor Sinistra, who was clutching a large mug in one hand. "Good evening, Professor," he said politely.
"Is it evening, really?" she asked. "Funny, that. I just woke up. There's this little elf wearing a tea cozy on his head who brought me very strong coffee. Must thank him tomorrow."
Draco and Harry exchanged glances. "That would be Dobby, most likely," Draco told her. "He used to work for my family. He's a bit touched, but he makes excellent coffee."
"Very touched," Harry added wryly.
"Ah well," Sinistra said with a laugh. "At least the coffee's good." She made a flapping motion at Draco with her free hand. "Off you go, Mr. Malfoy, your common room's a ways away."
Draco clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Good night, Potter," he said cheerfully. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Thanks for everything," Harry responded in kind. "I expect you'll be stealing my pastries at the breakfast table tomorrow."
Draco laughed and walked away.
**
Professor Sinistra made a very interesting conversationalist, to Harry's pleasant surprise. She explained the connection between Astronomy and Herbology, Potions, Divination, and Arithmancy with very clear examples and a bright wit that, more than once, had Harry clapping a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing too loudly.
At a bit past one-thirty, she dropped him at the Fat Lady's portrait with a cheery, "Good morning, Potter! Get some sleep, now!"
Harry flopped into his bed, intent on doing just that...
**
He sat up in bed as the grey light of dawn entered the room, heart pounding in his ears. "Sod this," he whispered. "I have to see Dumbledore."
author sez
1. Don't shoot the author for the cliffie!
2. 31415: I'm going to have Harry interact with most of the staff on his nightly walks, so they can be made more "aware" of the lives of their students. A walk with Snape is a few chapters away. Also, I solemnly swear (heh) I will not inflict Ron on Hermione. I promise.
3. Anaknisatanas: "Moody" and Snape will have their showdown eventually. It'll be interesting, but not as interesting as the one between Snape and Harry when they finally get it all out.
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