𓏲 . THE BOY WHO LIVED . .៹♡
                                                    CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
                          ─── UNFORGIVABLE CURSES & ELF RIGHTS

The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead as Charlus and Alistair joined Harry, Ron, and Hermione, examining their new course schedules at breakfast.

A few seats along, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were discussing magical methods of ageing themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.

"Today's not bad... outside all morning," Ron said, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures... damn it, we're still with the Slytherins...."

At Charlus and Alistair's look, Ron quickly added, "Some of them are alright!"

"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned, looking down. Divination was his least favorite subject, apart from Potions. Professor Trelawney kept predicting Harry's death, which he found extremely annoying.

"Thank god I'm not doing that anymore." Charlus sighed in relief. If he had to sit in the class for two hours, he would've thrown himself off the Astronomy tower.

"Well, you're lucky," Ron said in annoyance. "You should have given it up like Charlus and I did," Hermione said briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."

"Yeah," Alistair sneered at her, swallowing his food. "Looking at numbers what could be more fun than that." "You're eating again, I notice," Ron said, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast too.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," Hermione said haughtily. "Yeah... and you were hungry," Ron said, grinning.

There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, Charlus and Harry looked up, but there was no sign of reddish-brown among the mass of brown and gray. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed.

A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel into his lap — Neville almost always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall Draco and Adrian Malfoy's eagle owl had landed on a shoulder, carrying what looked like their usual supply of sweets and cakes from home.

Alistair raised a brow towards Charlus and Harry before asking, "Still nothing from Sirius and Daniel?"

The light brown-haired boy shook his head slightly. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his stomach, Charlus returned to his apple. Was it possible that something had happened to Phoenix, and that Sirius and Daniel hadn't even got the letter?

Alistair seemed to know what was going on inside Charlus' head. "I'm sure they're okay, y'know," he said with a tight lipped smile.

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The next couple of days seemed to pass by in a blur. In Herbology, Professor Sprout introduced Bubotubers, which apparently had contained a pus that was essential in the remedy for acne. Hagrid had brought out Blast-Ended Skrewts in Care of Magical Creatures; imagine the disgust when after dealing with pus, the students were forced to feed the small, mischievous beasts frog livers...

Arithmancy had gone as expected for Charlus, as boring as ever. He wasn't quite sure why he had taken the class but he supposed he'd do anything for Hermione. The only thing that kept Charlus going was how it couldn't have been worse than Harry, Alistair and Ron's experience with Divination - apparently Ron had made a cheeky comment about the planet, Uranus that sent Trelawney on a warpath, so she assigned homework that was destined to take days.

"Miserable old bat," Ron said bitterly as they joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner. "That'll take all weekend, that will..."

"What a bitch," Alistair scoffed, stuffing his books messily into his backpack. "Lots of homework?" Hermione said brightly, as she and Charlus caught up with them. "Professor Vector didn't give us any at all!"

"Well, bully for Professor Vector," Alistair and Ron said moodily, in unison. They high fived, grinning at each other.

The five of them reached the Entrance Hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner, including Anna, who was talking to her brother. When she spotted them, she waved to them. They had just joined the end of the line when a loud voice rang out behind them.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"

Charlus, Harry, Alistair,  Ron, and Hermione turned. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.

"What?" Ron said shortly. "Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" Malfoy said, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. "Listen to this!

FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

Malfoy looked up. "Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" he crowed.

Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on:

"Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene."

"And there's a picture, Weasley!"Malfoy said, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house - if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

Ron was shaking with fury. Harry, Alistair and Hermione looked at the Slytherins with disgust. Charlus had simply clenched his fists, prepared to strike. Everyone was now staring at them.

"Ron, calm it down," Alistair whispered. "He's not worth it." "Get stuffed, Malfoy," Harry said, trying to pull his brother and his friends in the opposite direction. "C'mon, Ron..."

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you,Black, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

"You know your mother, Malfoy?" Charlus said, stepping forward, which earned a pull on the back his robes from Hermione to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy, "that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"

Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink. "Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter!" "Keep your fat mouth shut, then," Charlus spat with anger, before he let Hermione pull him away from the scene.

BANG!

Several people screamed - Charlus felt something white-hot graze the side of his face - he plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he'd even touched it, he heard a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

Charlus spun around, Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing; Charus, Harry, Alistair and Ron had immediately bursted out laughing.

However, from everyone else, there was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. That's when, Moody turned to look at Charlus- at least, his normal eye was looking at Charlus; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.

"Did he get you?" Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly. "No," Charlus said, very amused at Malfoy as a ferret, "the idiot missed." "LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted. "Leave - what?" Charlus asked, bewildered.

"Not you - him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.

Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" Moody roared , pointing his wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more. b"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back is turned," Moody growled as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..."

Adrian, who had put one and one together, realised that Moody had turned Draco into a ferret. The blond-haired boy pushed through the crowd, trying to get to his brother.

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. "Never - do - that - again -" Moody said, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again. "Stop it!" Adrian exclaimed, glaring at Moody, his hand on his wand.

Everyone around them stopped talking and were looking at Adrian and Professor Moody. However, when he didn't stop, Adrian pulled his wand out of his robes, making the crowd take a couple of steps back.

"I said stop it," he hissed, his blue eyes narrowing as he looked at the Auror in front of him. "Professor Moody! Mr. Malfoy!" a shocked voice said. Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Moody said calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher. "What - what are you doing?" Professor McGonagall asked, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air. "Mr. Malfoy, why do you have your wand out?"

"Because he -" Adrian said and nodded at Moody "-doesn't want to change Draco back." "Change-Moody, is that a student?" Professor McGonagall shrieked, the books spilling out of her arms.

"Yep," Moody said, not seeming sorry in the slightest. "Technically it's a ferret, Professor," Charlus mumbled, acting like a smart-ass, which resulted in a stern look from the Transfiguration teacher and a scolding slap on the arm from Hermione.

"No!" Professor McGonagall cried, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing. Adrian went to stand in front of him, covering from sight.

"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" Professor McGonagall said weakly. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?" "He might've mentioned it, yeah," Moody said, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock —"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!" Professor McGonagall said. "I'll do that, then," Moody said, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.

Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words "my father" were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" Moody said quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father, boy... You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son... you tell him that from me... Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," Malfoy said resentfully. "Another old friend," Moody growled. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape... Come on, you..."

Then, he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons. Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.

"Mr. Malfoy, a word please," she said. Adrian gestured for Charlus, Harry, Alistair, Ron and Hermione to go into the Great Hall, before making his way towards the head of Gryffindor House.

"Don't talk to me," Alistair said quietly to his friends, as they sat down at the Gryfindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened.

"Why not?" Harry asked in surprise. "Because I want to fix that in my memory forever," Alistair replied, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. "Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret..."

Charlus, Harry and Ron laughed, while Hermione began to spoon the steak casserole onto their plates. "He could have really hurt Malfoy, though," she said. "It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it -"

"Hermione!" Alistair exclaimed furiously, his eyes snapped open once more. "You're ruining the best moment of my life!"

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Charlus was in such a good mood after witnessing Moody turn Malfoy into a ferret, that not even Snape and his scowl during Potions could bring him down.

Which is why, when Thursday rolled around, he was practically jumping with excitement as the first Defence Against the Dark Arts class would happen, and apparently he wasn't the only one.

The 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 -" "Library." Charlus amusedly finished her sentence for her which made Hermione smile slightly. "We know, 'Mione, now come on or we won't get decent seats."

Charlus, Harry, Alistair, Ron and Hermione hurried into five 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, "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.

Then, he marched up to the chalk board, and wrote aggressively as he spoke to the class. "Alastor Moody." he said, writing his name on the board. "Ex-Auror, Ministry malcontent and your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. I'm here because Dumbledore asked me, end of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?"

He turned towards the class with a questionable look, but the students shook their heads in slight fear, "Very well. 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?"

Hermione raised her hand slightly, and spoke in a frightening tone that was mindful of offending their new teacher, who was clearly on edge, "Three, sir."

Moody nodded, and the turned back to write on the chalkboard, "And they are so named?" "Because they are unforgivable," Hermione said simply, "Use of any one of them will -"

"Will earn you a one way ticket to Azkaban. Correct." Alastor said, cutting the girl off mid-sentence, but failing to look at her. "Now 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 somewhere else to put your chewing gum other than the underside of your desk Mr. Scamander!"

Charlus immediately turned his head, and was quite surprised to see Matthew jump up and blush.  He had placed a gum on the underside of the desk. "Aw, no way,"  Matthew whispered in disbelief, "The old codger can see out the back of his head."

Suddenly, Moody whipped back around, and threw the piece of chalk aggressively at Matthew. "And hear across classrooms!" he said loudly. He then visibly calmed himself down, "So... which curse should we see first?"

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Alistair's, Ron's and Hermione's. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Matthew. "Uh," Ron said tentatively, "my dad told me about one... Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Ah, yes," Moody said appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."

Moody walked away from the chalkboard, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Charlie saw Ron recoil slightly next to Harry -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 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," Moody said 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," Moody said, and Charlus 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 continued on with a bark, and everyone jumped.

Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar. "Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Alistair's and Hermione's hand flew into the air again and so, to their 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?" Moody said, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on the boy. "There's one - the Cruciatus Curse," Neville said 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," Moody said. "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 Charlus  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-

"Stop it!" Hermione said shrilly, watching Neville's reaction with a worried glance."Can't you see it's bothering him?! Stop it!"

Charlus looked around at her. She was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville, and Charlus following her gaze, saw that Neville's hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified.

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," Moody said 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?"

Charlus  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?" Moody said, looking at her. "Avada Kedavra," Hermione whispered.

Several people looked uneasily around at her, including Ron and Alistair. "Ah," Moody said, 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 Charlus felt a sudden thrill of foreboding. As if he had no control over what he was doing, Charlus intertwined his hand with Hermione's under the desk, squeezing it in anticipation for what was to come.

"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.

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 two known people have ever survived it, and they're sitting right here, in this room."

Charlus felt his face redden as Moody's eyes (both of them) looked into his own and Harry's. He could feel everyone else looking around at them too.  Charlus stared at the blackboard as though fascinated by it, but not really seeing it at all....

So that was how his parents had died . . . exactly like that spider. Had they been unblemished and unmarked too? Had they simply seen the flash of green light and heard the rush of speeding death, before life was wiped from their bodies?

Moody was speaking again, from a great distance, it seemed to Charlus. With a massive effort, he pulled himself back to the present and listened to what Moody was saying. "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 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 practise 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. Charlus and Hermione hadn't untangled hands until the bell rang nor had anyone spoke - 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 - "Did you see it twitch?" "- and when he killed it - just like that!"

They were talking about the lesson, Charlus thought, as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, but he hadn't found it very entertaining - and nor, it seemed, had Hermione and Harry.

"There's a reason those curses are unforgivable," she said harshly as they were walking down a flight of stairs, "and to perform them in a classroom -" "Oh, c'mon!"Ron scoffed and rolled his eyes, "He was brilliant! Completely demented, of course. Terrifying to be in the same room with, he's really BEEN there, you know?"

Charlus or Harry had yet to say anything. They were simply trying to process the seriousness of the first lesson with Professor Moody; they hadn't expected it to turn so serious so fast. Yes, Charlus had been excited for the class, but after having witnessed it, he was honestly more scared for the future than excited.

"Hermione's right, Ron," Alistair said quietly. "I mean, you saw the look on Neville's face, right?"

The five came to a stop, spotting Neville 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?" Hermione 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?"

"Neville, are you all right?" Alistair asked carefully. "Oh, yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled, in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what's for eating?"

Ron gave him a startled look. "Neville, what -?"

But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All six 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 alright, 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 Charlus and Harry. "You all right, are you, Potters?" "Yes," Charlus and Harry said , almost defiantly.

Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed at the twins. 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 Charlus, Harry, Alistair, 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?" Ron asked, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner. "I don't know," Hermione said, looking pensive. "I don't like Moody." Charlus said, turning his head back around to make sure Moody wasn't going to kill Neville.

There was something bone-chilling about Professor Moody's remarks - something that was worth having fear over.

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Later in the evening, Charlus, Harry, Alistair, and Ron sat in the Gryffindor common room, completing their homework. Harry, Alistair and Ron were making up their untimely and unfortunate deaths for themselves as part of their Divination homework, while Charlus was scribbling down answers for a complicated Arithmancy equation.

The light brown-haired boy couldn't help but to continue to try and process the unusual reaction Neville had had to the Unforgivable Curses in Defence Against the Dark Arts. He obviously knew the spell well. Had it been used on him?

Just then, Hermione had come in through the portrait hole, carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other. "Hello," she said, "I've just finished!" "So have I!" Ron said 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.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned. "You seem to be drowning twice," Charlus said with a small laugh as he moved to read over Hermione's shoulder.

"Oh am I?" Ron said, 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?" Hermione said with a raised brow. "How dare you!" Ron said, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"

Hermione and Charlie raised their eyebrows. "It's just an expression," Ron said hastily. "Wrong words, Ron." Alistair said, laying down his quill and yawning

Harry laid down his quill too, having just finished predicting his own death by decapitation. "What's in the box?" he asked, pointing at it.

"Funny you should ask," Hermione said, 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'?" Harry said, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's this about?" "Yeah, what's this all about?" Alistair asked, looking at the badge curiously.

"Not spew," Hermione said impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare." "Never heard of it," Ron said.

"Well, of course you haven't," Hermione said briskly, "I've only just started it." "Yeah?" Charlus said in mild surprise, realizing this was probably the reason why Hermione had been in the library so much recently. "How many members have you got?"

"Well - if you four join - six," Hermione replied. "Anna already said yes." "And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" Ron said.

"S-P-E-W!"Hermione said hotly. "I was 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."

"Bloody shame," Charlus muttered with an amused smile, "that would've been one hell of a name to put on the badges. Is it too late to change it?"

Hermione sent a playful glare in the boy's direction before she brandished the sheaf of parchment at the four of 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," Ron said loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"

"Our short-term aims," Hermione said, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves 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."

"And how do we do all this?" Alistair asked.

"We start by recruiting members," Hermione said 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. And Alistair, you do whatever."

Charlus furrowed his brows, "And what about me?"

Hermione turned to face him, "Erm, you will, uh -" "You didn't forget about me, did you?" Charlus asked and dramatically placed a hand over his heart as though he had been wounded. "Ouch, Granger."

 "Of course I didn't forget about you!" Hermione said quickly, a small smile playing on her lips. "Charlus, I thought that maybe... you would want to be, uh, Vice President? The two of us would, you know, work one on one to figure out our plans of action...?

The boy couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face. Being Vice President meant spending more time with Hermione - alone, just the two of them. He had no idea why but the mere thought of that idea excited him.

"I would love to, Madam President," he beamed causing Hermione to blush in excitement, "I'm in." "Me too," Harry said with a small smile. Ron huffed, "Fine." "Okay," Alistair sighed. "Let's do this."

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the three of them. The silence was broken, not by any of the Gryffindors, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. Harry looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a reddish-brown owl with white spots perched on the windowsill.

"Phoenix!" Charlus shouted as he followed Harry's gaze, launching himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window. Phoenix flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's predictions. "About time!" Charlus said, hurrying after him.

"He's got an answer!" Ron said excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Phoenix's leg. Charlus hastily untied it and sat down to read, whereupon Phoenix fluttered onto his knee, hooting softly.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly. The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry. Charlus read it aloud:

Charlus and Harry,

We're flying north immediately. This news about your scars is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached us here. If they 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.

We'll be in touch soon. Tell Alistair, if his owl hasn't arrived yet, that our letter is on the way. Our best to Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Charlus, Harry.

Sirius and Daniel

Charlus and Harry looked up at their three friends, who stared back at them. "They're flying north?" Hermione whispered. "They're coming back?" "Dumbledore's reading what signs?" Alistair said, looking perplexed. "Charlus,Harry - what's up?"

For the twins had just hit themselves in the foreheads with their fists, jolting Phoenix out of the lap. "We shouldn't've told him!" Charlus said furiously. "What are you on about?" Ron asked in surprise.

"It's made them think they have got to come back!" Charlus said, now slamming his fist on the table so that Phoenix landed on the back of Ron's chair, hooting indignantly. "Coming back, because they thinks we're in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with us! And I haven't got anything for you," Charlus snapped at his owl, who was clicking his beak expectantly, "you'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food!"

Phoenix gave him an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing the boy around the head with his outstretched wing as he went.

"Charlus," Hermione began, in a pacifying sort of voice. "I'm going to bed," Charlus said shortly. "See you in the morning."

With these words, Charlus stormed out of the common room.

In the Slytherin dormitory he pulled on his pajamas and got into his four-poster, but he didn't feel remotely tired. If Sirius and Daniel came back and got caught, it would be his and Harry's fault. Why hadn't  they kept their mouths shut? A few seconds' pain and they'd had to blab....If they'd just had the sense to keep it to themselves....

He heard Alistair come up into the dormitory a short while later, but did not speak to him. For a long time, Charlus lay staring up at the dark canopy of his bed. The dormitory was completely silent, and, had he been less preoccupied, Charlus would have realized that the absence of  Adrian's usual snores meant that he was not the only one lying awake.

━━ AUTHORS NOTE

Bit of a short chapter but I hope you enjoyed it all the same!

Now I have a few questions again:

1. Do you prefer short or longer chapters?

2. Any scene requests you'd like to see this act?

3. Since most of the story takes place in the Triwizard Tournament, how many champions do you think there will be?

4. In honor of this chapter's focus on Defence Against the Dark Arts, which of the Unforgivable Curses is your favorite? The Imperius Curse (Imperio), the Cruciatus Curse (Crucio) or  the Killing Curse (Avada Kedavra)? And why?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Please, don't forget to vote and share if you do, and if you want, comment too ! I'd really appreciate it <3

Thank you for reading this far.

Until next time, much love to you all!