Daughter of a Criminal

The Unforgivable Curses

The next two days passed without great incident, 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?" said Ron to Ann and Harry as they watched Hermione teaching Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the frog guts from under his fingernails.
"Pretty obvious isn't it?" said Ann
"Yeah," said Harry. "Moody. I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know," Harry said thoughtfully.
"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad," said Ron, his eyes misting over, "and bounced him all around his dungeon,"
"Oh what I'd give to see that," said Ann girning.
The Gryffindor fourth years were looking forward to Moody's first lesson so much that they arrived early on Thursday lunchtime and queued 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 â€""
"Library." Ann finished Hermione's sentence for her. "C'mon, quick, or we won't get decent seats." They hurried into four 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, Ron looking excited. 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 â€" 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 â€" very behind â€" 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 â€""
"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 â€" the first time Ann had seen him do so.
"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 â€" 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. 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. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head. "So . . . do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?" Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ann's, Ron's and Hermione's. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender.
"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. Harry felt Ron recoil slightly next to him â€" Ron hated spiders. 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 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. Everyone was laughing â€" 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, and Ann knew he was talking about the days in which Voldemort had been all-powerful. "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. 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 Ann's slight surprise, whose hand was also in the air, 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 â€" 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.
"Stop it!" Ann said shrilly. Harry looked around at her. Ann's hands were clenched up in fists white as could be and she was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville, and Harry, following her gaze, saw that Neville's hands were also clenched upon the desk in front of him. 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?" 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. Several people looked uneasily around at her, including Ron and Ann. "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 Ann 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 â€" 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. 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." Harry felt his face redden as Moody's eyes looked into his own. Moody was speaking again, "Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it â€" 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 â€" Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus â€" 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 â€" 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 â€" "Did you see it twitch?" "â€" and when he killed it â€" just like that!" They were talking about the lesson,
"Hurry up," Hermoine said tensely to Ann, Harry and Ron.
"Not the ruddy library again?" said Ron.
"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?" Ann 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 â€" I'm starving, aren't you?"
"Neville, are you all right?" said Hermione.
"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner â€" I mean lesson â€" what's for eating?" Ron gave Harry a startled look.
"Neville, what â€" ?" But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All five 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 Harry. "You all right, 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 Ann, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, 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.
"What was that about?" said Ron, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.
"I don't know," said Hermione, looking pensive.
"He probably saw the Cruciatus Curse in action, I mean I would know it's terrible," Ann said with a shudder
"Some lesson, though, eh?" said Ron quickly changing the subject as they 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 â€""
"Wonder what's for dinner," said Ann, quickly noticing the look on Harry's face.
Ann, Harry and Ron 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 they approached the Fat Lady.
"Oh yeah, now way I'm telling my uncle Mason about this," said Ann lightly
"Besides, 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 â€" look at his dustbins. Balderdash." said Ron. The Fat Lady swung forward to reveal the entrance hole, and they climbed into the Gryffindor common room, which was crowded and noisy.
"Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?" said Harry.
"I s'pose," Ron groaned.
"Met you back here?" Ann asked. The two nodded and they went to grab their things. Harry and Ron took their copies of Unfogging the Future back down to the common room, met up with Ann, found a table, and set to work on their predictions for the coming month. An hour later, they had made very little progress, though their table was littered with bits of parchment bearing sums and symbols, and Ann's brain was as fogged as though it had been filled with the fumes from Professor Trelawney's fire.
"I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean," Harry said, staring down at a long list of calculations.
"It doesn't make any sense," said Ann, a slight groan in her voice.
"You know," said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, "I think it's back to the old Divination standby."
"What â€" make it up?" Harry asked
"Yeah," said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write. "Next Monday," he said as he scribbled, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." He looked up at Harry. "You know her â€" 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 â€" er â€" burns."
"Yeah, you will be," said Ron darkly, "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.
"Works for me," said Ann.
"Good one," said Ron, copying it down. "Because of . . .erm . . . Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?"
"Yeah . . . cool . . ." said Ann, scribbling it down, "because . . . Venus is in the twelfth house."
"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight." said Harry
"Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet." said Ron
"Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight. . . ." They continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while the common room around them slowly emptied as people went up to bed. Crookshanks wandered over to them, leapt lightly into an empty chair, and stared inscrutably at Ann, rather as Hermione might look if she knew they weren't doing their homework properly. Shortly after that, the twins rolled up their parchment, said good night, and went off to bed.
Hermione climbed into the common room carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a book as she walked in the other. Crookshanks arched his back, purring.
"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"
"So have I!" said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill. Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's 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," Ron yawned.
"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.
"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "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!" Hermione raised her eyebrows. "It's just an expression," said Ron hastily. Harry laid down his quill too, having just finished predicting his own death by decapitation. Ann put down her quill also finished.
"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?" Hermione asked breathlessly.
"Well go on," said Ann. The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry. Harry read it aloud:
Harry â€"
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 â€" 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 Annie, Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry. Harry looked up at Ann, Ron and Hermione, who stared back at him.
"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming back?"
"This can't be-" Ann started
"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" said Ron, looking perplexed. "Harry â€" what's up?" For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist, jolting Hedwig out of his lap.
"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," Ann began, in a resuring sort of voice.
"I'm going to bed," said Harry shortly. "See you in the morning."
Ann had trouble sleeping that night. Was her dad really headed back? And if so, what did it mean?