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𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 on this sunny afternoon in September, they had their first lesson with Moody. As Marina, Lavender, and Pavarti hurried into three chairs right in front of the teacher's desk, took out their copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and waited, unusually quiet.
Soon they heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.
"You can put those away," he growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them."
They returned the books to their bags with confused expressions.
"What the hell is he playing at?" Marina mumbled.
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 student as he or she answered.
"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?"
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 –"
"What, aren't you staying?" Ron blurted out.
Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled – the first time Marina had seen him do so. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he ever did anything as friendly as smile. Ron looked deeply relieved.
"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody said. "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 countercurses and leave it at that. 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. 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 alert and watchful."
"So... do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by Wizarding law? And Professor Moody can also hear Mr.Finnagin chewing gum across the classroom! Don't put it under the table."
Marina couldn't help but snigger.
Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ron's and Hermione's. Moody pointed at Ron.
"Er," said Ron tentatively, "my dad told me about one... Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"
"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 large black spiders were scuttling around inside it.
Lavender started to hold onto Marina's arm out of fear.
Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that 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.
Everyone was laughing – 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 away 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..."
Ron gave an involuntary shudder.
"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," said Moody. "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 everyone jumped.
"Blimey...And I thought Lockhart was bad." Pavarti mumbled.
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, to Marina's slight surprise, did Neville's. 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, Ron pushed his 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 Marina was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently –
Marina couldn't help but give Neville's hand a squeeze. Neville's knuckles had turned white with fear as he looked like he was silently crying.
"Stop it!" Hermione said shrilly.
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. Right... anyone know any others?"
Marina looked around. From the looks on everyone's faces, he guessed they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. 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.
Marina gulped. Fenir Greyback had bitten and used the killing curse multiple times on her parents.
"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, and Marina felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.
"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 – instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backward and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him. Marina couldn't help but feel slightly dizzy.
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."
Potter's face went red as Moody's eyes (both of them) looked into his own. Everyone looked to him, except Marina. She knew how it felt. That was the one thing she and Potter had in common...grief. And Marina didn't want to give him anymore of that.
"Avada Kedavra 's 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, and the whole class jumped again.
"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 –"
They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang – but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices –
They were talking about the lesson, Marina thought, as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, but she hadn't found it very entertaining – and nor, it seemed, had her friends.
"Cmon." Marina said in a rushed voice.
"Where are we going?" Lavender asked.
"No," said Marina 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.
"Nev?" Marina 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?"
"Nev, are you all right?" said Marina interlocking her hand into his.
"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner – I mean lesson – what's for eating?"
Pavarti gave Lavender a startled look.
"Neville, what –?"
But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All four of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than they 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 Marina.
"You all right, are you, Weasley?"
"Yes," said Marina, 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 Marina, Lavender, and Pavarti, but they didn't say anything, so Neville had no choice but to allow himself to be steered away, one of Moody's gnarled hands on his shoulder.
"We"ve got to go meet up with the Divination Club." Pavarti said, as she and Lavender waved goodbye and left.
"What was that about?" said Ron appearing with Hermione and Harry, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.
"Dunno." Marina shrugged.
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𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐓 on the floor inside the common room with Ron, Hermione, and Harry since Lavender and Pavarti were still at their Divination Club meeting.
"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned referring to their horoscopes.
"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.
"I said that a centaur will fall in love with my pumpkin tea this week!" laughed Marina.
"Good one!" said Ron, peering down at his predictions from Divination yesterday. "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!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"
"What a sensitive expression." Marina said rolling her eyes.
Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"It's just an saying," said Ron hastily.
"What's in the box?" Harry asked, pointing at it.
"Funny you should ask," said Hermione, with a nasty look at Ron. She took off the lid and showed them 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," said Ron.
"Well, of course you haven't," said Hermione briskly, "I've only just started it.,"
"Do we have to join Hermione?" Harry asked kindly.
"Marina is the co-president of S.P.E.W." Hermione said flatly.
Harry grinned. "Well I guess it won't hurt to join won't it? But Marina? Really?"
Harry chuckled. Marina scoffed as she slapped his arm.
"Yeah?" said Ron in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"
"Well – if you two join – four," said Hermione.
"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" said Ron.
"S-P-E-W!" said Hermione hotly. "We were 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 them.
"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," said Ron loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"
"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure houseelves 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." Marina added.
"And how do we do all this?" Harry asked enthusiastically.
"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 them, and Marina sat, torn between exasperation at Hermione and amusement at the look on Ron's face. The silence was broken, not by Ron, who in any case looked as though he was temporarily dumbstruck, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. Marina looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the windowsill.
"Hedwig!" Harry 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!" said Ron excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg.
Harry hastily untied it and sat down to read, whereupon Hedwig fluttered onto his knee, hooting softly.
"What does it say?" Marina asked.
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.
Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione, who stared back at him.
"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming back?"
"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" said Ron, looking perplexed. "Harry – what's up?"
"I shouldn't've told him!" Harry said furiously.
"What are you on about?" said Ron in surprise.
"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 Ron's chair, hooting indignantly. "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."
"Anyways, see you later tosspots." Marina said walking upstairs.
Sorry for the boring chapter! What do you all want to see from Marina + Harry moments? Comment your moment ideas!