Wonderful School Years?

Hogsmeade greeted us with a thunderstorm and heavy downpour. In such weather, crossing the lake --- brrr, even imagining it makes me cold. We were lucky in our first year.

Naturally, the children arrived at the Sorting soaking wet. The prefects immediately cast drying charms on the robes of the kids sorted into Hufflepuff.

During dinner, I remembered that it was in fourth year that Hermione began her campaign to free house-elves. I wonder how Winky is doing? Will she end up at Hogwarts in the end? I should remember to check.

At that moment, in sync with a thunderclap, the doors to the Great Hall burst open, and Frankenstein's monster walked in. Or his cousin. What a face. Even though I felt uneasy looking at it, imagine how the eleven-year-olds felt. Judging by their expressions, the kids were far from thrilled.

Dumbledore introduced the new teacher and announced the Triwizard Tournament. I look at the Gryffindor table --- apparently Sirius didn't make it a secret, Harry isn't surprised at all. The students started whispering --- sharing their plans on how to have fun and creatively end their lives. Does Neville really think his grandmother would want him to participate?! Especially considering she has a rather low opinion of his abilities? Either he's demonizing her or... well yes, these are wizards, children are expendable to them.

Cedric shares his tournament plans in the common room. I reminisce aloud about how many people died in past tournaments and how often events spiraled out of control. Cedric thanked me for the warning and promised to think about it. But I can already see it's hopeless.

Once I got into bed, the first thing I did was find the DADA teacher's room on the map. No one was there. I started scanning the territory --- the map obediently showed Alastor Moody along with all the other professors in the headmaster's office. A staff meeting, apparently. Or continuation of the banquet. So the story still went its own way. I read a textbook to stay awake, periodically glancing at the map. Around one in the morning, the professors' dots began dispersing. I tracked how Moody's dot alone reached the DADA professor's bedroom and stopped. Besides him, no one else was there. So no Barty Crouch. And therefore, no fourth champion. Unexpectedly good news. I turned off the map and went to sleep.

***

Hagrid in his usual repertoire --- leave him unsupervised and here he is, showing us Blast-Ended Skrewts. Disgusting creatures. And they're still small. But already very aggressive, fighting each other and trying to attack students. Hagrid says today's lesson topic is figuring out what they eat. We need to figure that out and ask parents to send rat poison... There's no Greenpeace on me.

After class, Harry and I fell behind the group. I gave him the cloak, and he told me that over the summer he'd been dreaming about Voldemort. At my request, he tried to remember details. In the dream, Voldemort was talking to one of his servants, and the conversation clarified a lot: "Quirrell lasted almost a year, but this Jorkins woman's body is too weak and won't last long. You must hurry, Barty." There's Barty Crouch Jr. And also Bertha Jorkins --- Voldy's new vessel. But if in this reality Barty will be babysitting mini-Voldemort instead of Wormtail, then who's the planted spy in the castle? Or is there none at all?

Because of all these conversations, we were already late for lunch and arrived right at the beginning of the fight between the Weasleys and Malfoy. Rita, now Black, wrote a mocking article about Moody and Arthur Weasley --- well, at least she didn't mix up the name this time. Harry eagerly threw himself into battle. The children remembered classic arguments: "well, your mom is so fat that...", "and your mom..."

Malfoy tried to curse Harry, and then Moody entered the scene!

Bam --- and instead of Draco, there's a rather cute little ferret lying on the floor.

"Did he get you?" Moody asked Potter.

"No. He missed," Harry replied.

Crabbe tried to pick up the ferret, but froze half-bent from Moody's threatening shout. What a hero you are, Mr. Auror, so deftly intimidating children, no words.

The ferret tried to run toward me, but flew into the air, obeying the movements of Moody's wand --- and this is the real Moody, I checked. I was very close and purely instinctively caught the ferret in my arms, protecting it from falling. Well, now it's too late to pretend I wasn't standing here...

"You! Put him on the floor," both eyes glared angrily in my direction, "do it!"

"Sir, you'll kill him!"

"Taking on a lot, aren't you, little one?" he pointed his wand at me. I feel there will be two wonderfully flying ferrets here. But then I see our savior.

"Professor McGonagall! Come here, please! Professor Moody has bewitched a student!"

"Alastor! Is this a student? What are you doing? We never use transfiguration as punishment! We assign detentions, take away points. This isn't the Auror office."

Moody grumbled something like: "Now I'll know." Professor McGonagall, you are the person of the day!

"Miss Granger, put Mr. Malfoy on the floor, I'll reverse the spell."

I put the ferret on the floor, pity I didn't get to cuddle it. A second later, instead of it appears a red, disheveled Malfoy --- not nearly as cute as the ferret.

But Moody is no longer focused on Draco. He points a finger at me and says ominously:

"And we'll meet again in class," and walks away.

Malfoy, still sitting on the floor, mutters that his father should know...

"Think your father can get Moody fired?" I ask.

Well, that would be nice. But judging by the changed expression on Malfoy's face, he wasn't at all sure of Lucius's capabilities.

"Hermione, how could you!" Ron accusingly shouted at me, "and you were a bridesmaid at that awful Skeeter's wedding! How do you even talk to her?"

"Ron, Rita is now Harry's godfather's wife. And the wedding wasn't just Rita's, but Sirius's too. You yourself, by the way, were also at that wedding."

"What was Sirius thinking when he got married?" Ron muttered, "Harry, let's get out of here."

***

If you think about it, the year didn't start too successfully. I now have three whole subjects I don't want to attend. I don't want to go to Potions because of what happened last year. DADA --- because the teacher is inadequate. Hagrid is a sweetheart, but his Blast-Ended Skrewts are quite the opposite, so I don't want to go to Care of Magical Creatures either.

But there's nothing to be done, and we go to the first DADA lesson. The topic is the Unforgivable Curses. I drag Neville and the girls to the back desks --- this time they agree with me, they don't like Moody either.

He behaved exactly like the Death Eater in canon. Obviously, without the mark you wouldn't notice the difference. Or maybe even in canon the Death Eater appeared later? Moody demonstrates curses on poor spiders and nearly brings Neville to a nervous breakdown. Harry and his impenetrable forehead are also mentioned, even though Harry himself is in a different group. After class, I take Neville to the hospital wing for a calming draught. We skip the next lesson, and he tells me the sad story of his parents. Doctors still can't understand what's wrong, but he still hopes.

In the second lesson, Moody decided to test how we resist the Imperius Curse. I won't argue, it would be interesting if you could test it with someone you trust.

Children jump, dance, imitate various animals... Not too scary so far. But what if Moody asks me something that no one should know? But I don't have time to think of how to protect against this. The next desk is ours.

"Granger, your turn. Ready?"

"Yes, sir."

What serenity, what amazing calm. I want to stay here longer. I hear a voice in my head: "Sing your favorite song." It seems like it's my psychotherapist. Or not. But this voice can be trusted, it's so kind and inspiring of trust, it wants to help me. I open my mouth but can't decide which song is my favorite. In what language? From which life? Wait, my psychotherapist and I haven't met since my past life. I feel I need to remember something important, but I can't. It feels so good, I don't want to strain myself. But I need to think of a song...

Suddenly the feeling of happiness abruptly receded, I almost groaned from the sense of loss. But instead I closed my mouth. I wonder how long I stood like that?

"Well, that's at least something," Moody grumbled.

Eh, I think this wasn't a success at all. If there had been a specific task, I would have done it sweetly, without reasoning. But here I just froze.

After classes, I write a letter to Mrs. Black, complaining about how scary and strange Mad-Eye is. He shows children Unforgivables, turns children into ferrets and tests Imperius on them. The next day, on the way from the greenhouses, a fat beetle lands on my shoulder.

"Hi, Rita," I say quietly, "are you sure Moody's magical eye doesn't see animagi? If so, you can sit in my hair. But if he sees you, better not risk it."

Rita rides on my shoulder for some time, then flies away. I never figured out if she went home or to spy.

***

Rita writes an article about Moody.

"Sadist and Paranoid? Who Are We Trusting Our Children To?"

Moody angrily glares with both eyes at those he catches with the Prophet, but the article still does its job --- he becomes more restrained toward students. Probably Albus gave him a talking-to. I'm afraid it won't last long.

My parents refused to send me rat poison. I'm afraid to poison the Blast-Ended Skrewts with magical poison --- what if they find traces. So the giant's favorites are blooming and thriving. In class, Hagrid threatened to turn Malfoy into a ferret like Moody did if he doesn't obey and refuses to mess with these mutants. Eh, Hagrid, and I believed in you. Meanwhile, Malfoy shows healthy self-preservation instincts. If Hagrid doesn't change his mind, I'll have to refuse his lessons. I know he'll perceive this as betrayal, but damn it, the Blast-Ended Skrewts get bigger every day, and I refuse to risk my life every Tuesday throughout the year.

Seeing Snape in Potions lessons is still unpleasant. Every time I automatically remember how last year ended. At the end of September, the professor kept me after class and asked why I didn't come to the optional sessions. I answered honestly that I don't want to see him more than necessary. Snape looked at me silently for a minute, then nodded dryly. We closed the topic, but I can't forget that he managed to peek at quite a few strange moments in my head, and this means "we're under Mueller's surveillance." Minimum suspicious movements this year.

One joy --- Barty Crouch never appeared at Hogwarts. At least I never caught him. But Winky wasn't in the school dining hall either.