Harry Potter 04 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

them.’
    They returned the books to their bags, Ron looking excited.
    Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled grey 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 swivelled 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 Harry 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 a relief 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 favour 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 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 ’til 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 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 – 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 backwards and forwards 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 unmistakeably 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,