The classroom was silent, the words hanging heavy. Ron gaped, leaning close to Harry and muttering under his breath, his voice shaky with both awe and unease.
"See? I told you—she… she's a dark wizard. I thought maybe when she grew up she'd become one, but who knew she's already there?"
Harry shot him a sharp look, his brow furrowed. "Ron—don't be stupid," he whispered back, though his tone was tight, unsettled.
Across the room, Draco smirked as though amused to hear someone daring to question her, his pale face lighting with cruel satisfaction. But the expression curdled quickly when Moody's magical eye swiveled toward him and lingered, pinning him to his seat. Draco shifted uncomfortably, his smirk fading into a sullen scowl.
The silence deepened, every student watching Moody as though afraid to breathe too loudly.
"And you, Malfoy," Moody rasped. "Your father still licking boots in the Ministry corridors? Or does he prefer slipping gold to buy his way out of trouble?"
Draco flushed, his mouth opening in outrage, but Moody barked, "Keep it shut, boy. I've seen the likes of Lucius Malfoy before. Masks and lies. All cowards underneath."
A stifled laugh came from the Gryffindor side. Draco's fists clenched.
Moody swung back to the class as a whole. "Enough chatter. Today we're learning about the curses you need to recognize. Because if you can't recognize them—" he slammed his wooden leg against the floor with a resounding thud "—you'll never survive them."
He hauled out a glass jar. Inside, three spiders twitched uneasily. Several students leaned back in their chairs.
"The Unforgivable Curses," Moody said, his voice low and gravelly. "Three spells so dark, so vile, they earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban. No excuses. No exceptions."
He pointed his wand at the first spider. "Imperius!"
The spider jerked upright and began to dance on its legs. Students laughed nervously as Moody made it leap, twirl, and somersault across the desk. Then he slammed it flat with a flick, pinning it in place.
"This is how they'll get you to do their work. Make you think it's your idea. Breaks the strongest will if you're not trained to fight it. Anyone tell me what it was?"
Hermione's hand shot up. "The Imperius Curse, Professor."
"Right you are. Five points to Gryffindor."
He released the spider, which scuttled away.
Moody strode back to the desk, seizing another spider and dropping it onto the wood with a dull thud. His mismatched eyes swept the room.
"And what is the second Unforgivable Curse?" he barked.
Hermione's hand shot into the air instantly, her face taut with concentration. But Moody ignored her completely, his magical eye whirring until it fixed on Neville in the second row.
"Longbottom," Moody growled, limping closer, "you tell me."
Neville froze, color draining from his face. His lips worked soundlessly for a moment before he stammered, voice trembling, "Th-the Crucial Curse… or… the Cruciatus Curse, sir."
"Correct." Moody's tone was flat, but his good eye held Neville a moment longer, uncomfortably, before he jabbed his wand at the spider.
"Crucio!"
The spider convulsed at once, twitching violently in the air. Its tiny legs curled and flailed helplessly as it writhed in agony. Gasps erupted across the room. Neville had gone rigid, pale as parchment, his hands clutching the edge of his desk so tightly his knuckles whitened. His eyes were wide, fixed on the suffering creature as though rooted to the spot.
"Stop it!" Hermione cried suddenly, her voice high and shaking but fierce. She half-rose from her seat, staring at Moody. "Can't you see he's uncomfortable? Enough!"
Moody flicked his wand, and the spider dropped back into the jar, quivering, its movements faint and feeble. His magical eye snapped toward Hermione, fixing her with a hard glare.
"Pain," he said coldly, his gravelly voice cutting through the silence. "That's what the Cruciatus Curse does. Enough to drive you mad. Remember that, next time you think Dark magic is 'power.'"
His eye swung back toward Eira for a fraction of a second before he seized the last spider.
The room was utterly still, the echo of the spider's suffering hanging heavy in the air. Neville slowly sank lower in his seat, avoiding everyone's eyes.
"And the last one—" his voice dropped to a growl "—is the worst of all. Avada Kedavra."
A blinding green light shot across the classroom. The spider fell lifeless, legs curled. No mark. No struggle. Just… gone.
Gasps, muffled cries. Ron whispered, "Blimey." Harry sat rigid, his scar burning faintly, though he didn't say a word.
"That's the Killing Curse," Moody said. "There's no counter-curse. No block. Just death. That's why it's Unforgivable."
The silence pressed in, broken only by the ticking of one of Moody's dark detectors.
He leaned forward, both eyes—magical and real—sweeping the students. "You lot think you're ready for glory, for tournaments, for fame. But the Dark Arts won't care about your pride. They'll kill you if you're careless. And I—" he jabbed his wand at the class "—I'm here to make damn sure you aren't careless."
His gaze flicked once more to Eira, hard and measuring, before he finally barked, "Class dismissed."
Chairs scraped as the students filed out, their chatter hushed, shaken by the lesson. Ron muttered to Harry that he'd never sleep again after that. Draco was fuming, red-faced from the insult to his father. Hermione looked pale but determined, clutching her notes tightly.
Eira walked out silently, but she could still feel the weight of Moody's magical eye burning into her back.