Lorraine Winters was born into a secretive death eater family. They were known for being spies for Voldemort and so far no one on the outside knew. She was the youngest to wear the dark mark on her arm, having gotten it when she was a year old. When...
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WORD COUNT: [1917]
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"I don't trust him," Lorraine stated as she and the golden trio walked to their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Alastor Moody. She had maintained contact with her family through letters, although the responses from her end were limited as she had nothing to report. She had mentioned Alastor Moody to her parents and they had only brushed her off. In fact, they seemed to respect the man despite the fact that he had sent away numerous death eaters. She, admittedly, expected them to be furious that their only child was going to be near the man. She didn't even know why she expected them to show an ounce of concern for her health, actually. All they had blabbered on about was her mission and how she had to try harder for the Dark Lord, although she was trying the best she could. It was just that nothing was happening.
How boring.
"Certainly something about him gives me the creeps," Ron agreed, shivering at the thought of the one-eyed and one-legged man.
"He seems like a proper drunkard, too," she added with a scoff as she pushed open the doors to the classroom. Ron sat with Harry at a table while Lorraine and Hermione sat at a table together. The girls prepared for the class immediately while the boys continued to chat as if their class was about socialising instead of defending themselves.
"I've heard numerous compliments about your knowledge, Hermione," Lorraine mused as she flickered through her textbook to ensure that she had learnt and studied each spell. Being a death eater came with the advantage of learning offensive and defensive spells earlier on in her life. She brushed over the unforgivable curses, hoping and praying that their lessons on the curses were glossed over. She hated to be brought back to her family's...disciplinary methods.
"Alastor Moody," Moody introduced as the class was settled. He began writing on the chalkboard as he continued speaking. "Ex-Auror...Ministry malcontent...and your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I am here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?" The class was dead silent.
"When it comes to the Dark Arts...I believe in a practical approach. But first, which of you can tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?" Moody asked. Lorraine's heart dropped, for the one topic she didn't want to learn was going to be the topic of the lesson.
"Three, sir," Hermione said shakily.
"And they are so named?" He began writing on the board once more.
"Because they are unforgivable. The use of any one of them will--"
"Will earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Correct. The Ministry says you're too young to see what these curses do. I say different! You need to know what you're up against! You need to be prepared. You need to find another place to put your chewing gum besides the underside of your desk, Mr Finnigan!" the man snapped. The attention was drawn to Seamus as he complained that Moody could see out the back of his head. Moody pegged the chalk he was using straight at the boy furiously.
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