Three days passed and then Niamh and Harry were heading for Defense Against the Dark Arts.  Niamh was practically – and literally – bouncing.

“What’s with her?” asked Thomas Ymber, eyes followed Niamh as he sidled up next to Harry in the corridor.

“Moody’s her favorite subject to study beside hexes,” replied Harry, “Now she gets to be taught by him.  The child is thrilled.”

“I am not a child!” cried Niamh over her shoulder.

“August the 15th,” said Harry in a singsong voice.

Niamh snorted then dashed on ahead to the Defense classroom.

“I bet she’s getting the front row seat,” said Thomas.

Harry grinned at the brown-haired boy and said, “I know for a fact that she is.”

They made it into the room in enough time for Harry to snag the seat beside Niamh (as if anyone else would try to grab that seat) and Thomas grabbed the seat behind them, which would have been occupied by Mika.  When Draco entered, both Harry and Niamh hissed, “Ferret!”  The blonde glared at them as he settled into his seat, not knowing his ears had turned pink.

Then the distinctive clunking footsteps of Moody sounded outside the door and al fell quiet.  As he entered, all of them could see his clawed wooden foot protruding out from under his robes.

“You can put those away,” he growled at the few who had taken out their books.  “You won’t need them.”

Niamh was practically on the edge of her seat now.

Moody took out a register and began to call out names, his normal eye moving straight down the list while his magical one swiveled to stare at whoever answered.

“Right then,” he said when all was done.  “I’ve had a letter from Professor Lupin abou this class.  Seems you’ve had a pretty thorough grounding in Dark creatures – you’ve covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?”

Several grumbled in assent while Niamh nodded furiously.

“But you’re behind – very behind – on dealing with curses (Harry and Niamh grinned at each other here).  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 –”

“You aren’t staying?” said Niamh, looking rather defeated.

Moody’s magical eye swiveled to land on her; Niamh flinched away as most did under its gaze.  His normal eyes looked down at the register then both eyes turned on her, and he smiled.  The effect made his heavily scarred face look more twisted, but it was good to know that he could smile.

“You’ll be Niamh O’Feir, won’t you?”  When she nodded, he continued, “My son has told me quiet a lot about you, O’Feir…  Yeah, I’m staying just the one year.  Special favor to Dumbledore…  One year, then back to my quiet retirement.”

“So – straight into it,” he said, clapping his gnarled hands together.  “Curses.  They come in many strength 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.”

“So…do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?”

Several hands raised, including Niamh’s.  Moody pointed at Millicent Bulstrode.

“The Imperius Curse.”

“Ah, yes – the Imperius Curse.”

Moody clunked behind his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a glass jar.  Three large black spiders scuttled around inside, causing Pansy to let out a little shriek.

Niamh leaned over to Harry and whispered, “I bet Ron hated this part.”

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in his hand so they all could see it as he pointed his wand at it.

“Imperio!”

The spider leapt from Moody’s hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing back and forth 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.  With a jerked of Moody’s wand, the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Moody looked around the room as if he expected them to be laughing.  No one was.

“Ah.  I expected as much from the Slytherins.  Gryffindors seemed to think it was awfully funny.”  Moody looked down at the spider, which had balled itself up and began to roll over and over.  “Total control.  I could make it jump out the window, drown itself, throw itself down on of your throats…”

“Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse,” said Moody, his magical eyes roving over those in the room.  “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 teach 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 roared, causing everyone but Harry to jump.

Moody eyed them calculatingly then picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

“Anyone else know one?  Another illegal curse?”

Hands threw up agains and this time Moody pointed at Amanda Brethel.

The blonde girl blinked her blue eyes in surprise then stammered, “The – the Cruciatus Curse, sir.”

“Your name’s Brethel?”

Amanda nodded.

Moody made no comment after that, simply reached into the jar for the next spider.  The creature quivered on the desk, apparently too scared to move.  Harry could sympathize with the poor creature.

“The Cruciatus Curse.  It needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea.  Engorgio!”

The spider swelled, now just about the same size as a small terrier.  Pansy shrieked again and tumbled over backwards in her chair.

“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 Harry was certain – certain in the way he was certain that the majestic Darcorn understood him – that is it had a voice, it would be screaming.  Moody did not move his wand and the spider began to shudder and jerk more violently…

“Stop it!” screamed Niamh suddenly.

Harry turned to look beyond Niamh to see Amanda’s eyes wide on the twitching spider, hands clenched on her desk as her mouth worked, no sound coming out.

Moody lifted his wand and the spider’s exertions stopped.

“Reducio,” said Moody, placing the spider back in the jar as it returned to its normal size.  He then turned to the class.  “Pain.  You don’t need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone…  This one was very popular once too.”

“Right then…anyone know any others?”

Moody looked at Draco this time as the hands raised.  The blonde locked eyes with Harry as all eyes turned on him.

“Yes, Malfoy?”

Draco, eyes still locked on Harry’s face, said, “Avada Kedavra.”  If Draco had been expecting Harry to lunge across the room for saying the name of the spell that had killed his parents, he didn’t get it.  Harry simply locked eyes lazily with the other boy and stared him down.

“Ah, yes,” muttered Moody.  “The last and worst.  Avada Kedavra…the Killing Curse.”

The third spider came form the jar and began to scuttle frantically across the desk.

“Avada Kedavra!”

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound rolled over the spider and it rolled over onto it back, unblemished but most definitely dead.  Only a few students cried out as Moody swept the spider off of his desk.

“Not nice.  Not pleasant.  And there’s no counter curse.  There’s no blocking it.  Only one known person has ever survived it, and he’s sitting right in front of me.”

All eyes – including Moody’s – turned on Harry who stared defiantly back at Moody.

He, in all his interest of hexes and curses, had never wanted to know more about these three curses.  Heard of them: of course, what Slytherin hadn’t?  Sought to find how they worked?  Not he.  He remembered that image of green light and his mother’s scream as her life was taken away, as she was taken away from him, cursing him to a life in the streets.  Never had he wanted to ever learn more about that light that haunted his dreams at oft times.

“Avada Kedavra’s a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it – all of you could get out your wands and point them at me, say the words, and I doubt I’d get so much as a nosebleed.  But I’m not here to teach you that.”

“Why am I showing it to you if there’s no counter curse?  Because you’ve got to know.  You’ve got to know what the worst it.  You don’t want yourself in a situation where you’re facing it.  CONSTANT VIGILANCE!!”

“Now…those three curses are known as the Unforgivable Curses.  Any one of them used on a fellow human being can earn you a life sentence in Azkaban.  That’s what your up against.  You need preparing and I’m here to teach you how to fight.  No get out yours quills and copy this down…”

The remainder of the class was spent taking notes on each of the Unforgivables.  No one – not even Draco – spoke until the bell rang.  But by the time they were out in the corridor, most of them were discussing it.

“Hey, Amanda!” yelled Niamh, running after the girl.  “Are you okay?  You looked…bad.”

Amanda nodded as Harry jogged up, looking worriedly at her too.

“You alright?”

The blonde girl looked up at him, having to tilt her head almost completely back.  She was the shortest girl in their class and barely came up to Niamh’s shoulder.  And Niamh wasn’t tall.

“Yeah.  I’m…okay.”

“Your sure?” asked Niamh.

Amanda nodded and turned to walk off.  Niamh looked after her then began to walk towards the Great Hall and Harry followed her.  They had almost made it there when Malfoy’s voice rang out suddenly.

“Hey, Potter!  Did you get scared?  Of that last curse?  I heard you were scared shitless of it.”

Niamh whirled and snarled, “You bastard!”  She made to lunge at Draco but an arm across the chest made her stop.  Turning her head, she looked at Harry.  The teen’s face looked like stone, it was so cold looking.

He stepped forward, towards Draco, stalking towards him with slow, calculated steps.  Draco paled but stood defiantly, grey eyes gleaming.

They stood there for a long moment, Harry (being the taller one) looking down at Draco calmly, as the other boy lifted his chin and glared.

Then Harry moved, his bag dropping to the floor, as his hands whipped out, grabbing Draco by the collar and slinging him to the floor.  Harry settled atop the other boy, his wand against the pale throat and his green eyes gleaming brightly.

Niamh gasped.  She had even seen Harry move to draw his wand!

“Y’know, Malfoy,” spat Harry.  “I’ve heard enough of your mouth.  Enough of it to last me through my life and all through eternity.  And you know what?  I’m tired of hearing it.  So…let’s get one thing straight, shall we?”

Harry jabbed the tip of his wand against Draco’s throat, the tip giving off silver sparks as he demanded, “Are you listening, Malfoy?”

Draco nodded and Harry smiled cruelly.

“Good.  Listen really well, ‘cause I’m not going to repeat myself.  I’d like to not see your ferrety face anymore, but as we’re in the same school I can’t really do anything about that.  Unless of course, I turn it into a bloody pulp but then Madam Pomfrey’d just fix it…”  He waved his other hand casually and laughed.  “But I digress.  See, I’m tired of you, Malfoy.  Tired of your jibes, your words…hell, I’m tired of the sight of you.  So, here’s the deal.  You – and your lackey’s – stay away from me and my friends, and I won’t be forced to do something drastic.  Like make your head explode, for example.  I’m sure Filch doesn’t want to clean up your hideous and completely useless brain matter, so maybe I’d just find some spell that’d make you burn up from the inside.  Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“So,” added Harry, “do we understand each other?”

Draco nodded and Harry jabbed him with his wand again.

“I want a spoken answer, Malfoy.  Do you understand me?”

“Y – yes,” hissed Draco.

“Good.”

Harry rose in one fluid motion and jerked Draco to his feet.  He straightened his robes, tucking his wand away as he picked up his bag.  Turning towards Niamh, he began to walk towards the Hall again.

“Oh, and Draco?”

Draco glared at the back of his head and growled sullenly, “What is it, Potter?”

“How was it to be in your natural form?”

Several people in the entrance hall burst out laughing at that and Draco’s cheeks burned pink with embarrassment as Harry strode off, Niamh following him.