NABC Ch351- Teasing Crouch Jr.
Ch351- Teasing Crouch Jr.
Ch351- Teasing Crouch Jr.
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“Ancient magic,” Moody repeated slowly. He straightened, leaning more heavily on his staff. His real eye narrowed slightly, while his magical one flicked briefly toward the front row where Hermione and Neville sat. “You’re referring to sacrificial protection, of course. A rare and... unpredictable form of magic.”
Harry shrugged. “Unpredictable, maybe. But effective. Voldemort didn’t expect it, and we both know how well that turned out for him. Also, as you always say, ‘CONSTANT VIGILANCE!’ While fighting those inbred Death Eaters, one should always be vigilant that a Killing Curse might fly their way, so they can block it with a timely Transfiguration.”
There was a ripple of awkward laughter among a few of the Slytherins. Hermione looked as though she wanted to correct Harry on his phrasing, but thought better of it. Moody’s magical eye spun erratically before settling on Harry again. The rest of the class sat in tense silence, waiting for the professor’s response.
Nigel laughed in Harry's mind, "Are you trying to anger the poor professor to death, Harry? First calling his lord wretched, now calling him inbred to his face."
Harry gave no outward reaction, though he couldn’t help the faint smirk tugging at his lips. He didn’t bother replying to Nigel. Moody’s jaw tightened slightly, though he quickly masked it with a gruff grunt.
“Right,” Moody rasped, slamming the butt of his staff onto the floor again for emphasis. “Theoretical counters won’t save you in a real fight, Potter. You’ll be dead before you can transfigure a pebble. Don’t let clever words make you complacent.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Harry answered with a faint smirk, leaning back in his chair. He could see a flicker of irritation in Moody’s real eye, but the man didn’t push further. The classroom remained tensely quiet, every student too on edge to even shift in their seats.@@@@
Moody grunted once more and continued pacing. “Now, remember this—you might never see these curses in action unless you’re extremely unlucky, but if you do, you better be prepared.” He jabbed a finger in the air, “You let your guard down, you’re done. Constant vigilance is the only thing keeping you alive out there.”
Harry rolled his eyes subtly, earning an approving chuckle from Blaise, who whispered, “Reckon he shouts that in his sleep?”
“Enough chatter back there,” Moody barked, his magical eye snapping toward them. "Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it—you could all get your wands out now, point them at me, and say the words, and I doubt I would get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn’t matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it." Moody’s gravelly voice echoed across the room as he paced slowly.
"Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you?" he continued, his tone sharp. "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 unprepared. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked suddenly, causing several students to flinch again.
Moody ignored the commotion and went on, his voice hard and unrelenting. "Now... those three curses—Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus—are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That’s 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 practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills... copy this down."
Chairs scraped as students hastily pulled out their quills and parchment. The room filled with the sound of frantic scribbling as Moody began to dictate notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses.
“I am,” Harry replied bluntly. “The curse can be fought, but there’s a problem with how he’s planning to go about it.”
“How so?” Blaise asked, his curiosity piqued.
Harry gave a short nod. "He’s trying to teach us how to resist, sure, but he’s also giving students a taste of submission. The more you give in, even if it’s just for practice, the easier it gets to control you. We can’t afford that, can we?"
Tracey frowned, falling into step beside him. "Makes sense. So, what’s your brilliant plan then, Potter? Teach us how to stay stubborn?"
"Pretty much," Harry said with a shrug. "There’s a mental trick to resisting it. You can’t just rely on force of will alone—there’s a bit of strategy to it. I’ll explain when everyone’s there."
"Lovely," Daphne said dryly, keeping pace. "Another fun evening spent dodging hexes and curses."
"You act like you don’t enjoy it," Tracey muttered, smirking at her as they reached the stairs. "Besides, better to deal with Harry’s brand of torture than whatever Moody’s planning next."
Daphne didn’t argue, though her lips twitched faintly, betraying her amusement.
After everyone went their separate ways, Harry pulled Neville toward the Astronomy Tower. Once they reached the top, Harry took a seat on the ledge, motioning for Neville to do the same. For a while, neither of them spoke. The night air was crisp, and the soft rustling of leaves from the Forbidden Forest drifted up toward them.
Finally, Harry broke the silence. "At the end of this year, I will hand Barty Crouch Jr. to you."
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