20

Harry sighed as he took a seat at the back of the class. It was only Thursday on the first week of term, and he had already suffered through enough early mornings to last him a lifetime, or so he thought, anyway.

"So what d'ya reckon he'll be like?" Ron asked, leaning back in his chair to talk to Harry.

"Who? Moody? He used to be an Auror, so he should be alright I suppose," Harry shrugged, uninterested. He had Sirius to teach him this class anyway, so for once it wouldn't be terrible if they had a bad teacher. Everyone was busy chatting, just as Harry and Ron were, and so nobody noticed Moody sneak into the back of the classroom.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared. There were screams from some people, and Neville actually jumped out of chair, falling with a thump to the floor. Harry, however, had jumped from his seat instantly, snapped his wand into his hand and turned to face his 'attacker'. Flinging a stunner towards the man with one hand, he reached forward with the other and clasped his fingers around his throat. Moody dodged the stunner but wasn't expecting the physical attack and didn't have time to move as the fingers tightened around his windpipe.

"Harry! That's a professor!" Hermione squealed, her eyes wide with worry.

"Oh shit!" Harry exclaimed, allowing his eyes to settle on the man's face. He had been flickering his glance over his 'attacker's' body, searching for the wand he knew was there somewhere. Silently, Harry removed his hand and stepped back, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Sorry, Professor," he said, "I'll umm... just sit down again then, shall I?" Turning back to his seat, Harry discovered that the entire class was staring at him, some in shock, some in awe and a few with fear in their eyes. Ignoring them, he sat down, re-sheathing his wand as he did so.

"Potter, isn't it?" Moody asked, clunking to the front of the room where he stood, training both his magical and normal eye on Harry, who nodded feeling embarrassed. "Good. Well at least someone will survive a battle then." Several of the boys in the class raised their eyebrows indignantly and puffed up slightly in their seats. Moody just scowled at them and began his lesson.

"Right. First things first, you can put those books away," he growled, glaring around at them all, "you won't be needing them." There was an excited murmur across the class at this; if he would be teaching them practical lessons then he was sure to be good.

"So- straight into it. Curses." And so began Moody's lecture, with every member of the class hanging on his every word (though a few slipped occasionally to sneak a glance at Harry, wondering how he had reacted so quickly earlier). He showed them the Unforgivables- the imperius first, which caused laughter, though it was quickly replaced with scared silence. The cruciatus curse was next, which was only stopped when Hermione cried out. The killing curse was the last to be shown, though Harry never saw its effects as he stood and stormed from the room as soon as he saw the flash of green light. To everyone's surprise, Neville shakily got to his feet and followed him.

Once outside, Harry turned and punched a wall, growling slightly in anger.

"It's fucking sick," he spat out.

"I know," Neville whispered and Harry jumped, not having realised his friend had followed him out. He took a cigarette out of his jeans pocket and lit it with the end of his wand, having left his lighter in his dorm room.

"C'mon, Nev, let's go get some air," he said gruffly, his anger still evident in his voice. There was concern there as well though; concern for his friend whose parents had been stolen from him just as Harry's had.

Outside, they began walking down towards the lake, and they were almost there before either one of them spoke again.

"There was a prophecy, you know," Harry said softly, "that's why my parents were killed. Might be why yours were tortured. In fact, it probably was, if indirectly."

"What did it say?"

"That a boy born at the end of July would be the one with the ability to kill Tom. The only one. Well, it was a shitload more poetic and vague than that, but in essence, that's what it meant," Harry said as they reached the edge of the lake and sat down. He stubbed out his cigarette on the grass next to him and vanished its remains before turning to Neville to see how he was taking the news. The brown haired boy was frowning across the water.

"Gran always said that he would come back, one day, that he wasn't really gone. So it was one of us? I mean, it's you now, I guess," Neville said, not turning to look at Harry. The matter of fact way he said it made Harry wince slightly; perhaps he had overreacted when he heard it for the first time, though he didn't think Sirius had minded having Black family heirlooms thrown around the room.

"Yeah. Well, supposedly. I mean, if you believe in all that Divination crap. Personally I like to hope that we have more of a hand in our own fates, you know, free choice and all that. But fuck it, if everyone wants me to kill the old snake, then I will. The bastard deserves it, right?" Harry's tone was light, but Neville could see through it- he knew that it was torture to his friend to even consider killing anyone. Harry may have changed, but he had not changed that much.

"Of course. It's horrible that you have to do it though," Neville said, dragging his gaze from the water to the boy beside him.

"Yeah. But that's life, right? Gotta take a leaf out of Siri's book and look on the bright side."

"He does seem to be pretty happy all the time," Neville agreed, smiling.

"Yeah, although, to be honest, I've never known if it was looking on the bright side or if it was because he's drunk most of the time." Both boys laughed and the tension that had held both of them since seeing the curses diminished.

"Hey, how'd you do that to Moody, by the way?" Neville asked, causing Harry to grin sheepishly.

"I still can't believe I didn't get detention," he laughed, "But you'd be jumpy too if you'd had the summer I just had."

"How come?" Neville asked curiously, and Harry jumped at the chance to explain. He told Neville about Sirius teaching him defence, new spells and how to punch. He told him about the fights and the pubs and the two girls and one boy who had fallen onto his lips (although they had nothing to do with what had happened, Harry couldn't bring himself to leave them out). He told about the pranks Sirius had pulled on him, and how he had retaliated. And Neville smiled and laughed the whole way through, amazed at how open Harry was being. Neville had never been in the inner circle of Harry's friends, always somewhat pushed to the side and forgotten. But he had been invited to the other boy's birthday party, and then to the World Cup with the Weasley's. And now Harry was confiding in him, just as a real friend would do.

For the first time in his life, Neville felt that he finally may have found somewhere he belonged, and people he belonged to.

Barty Crouch Jr. chugged another dose of Polyjuice potion from his hip flask and scowled viciously, causing several first years to run quickly past him, not looking back as they fled. He carried on clunking down the corridor, though he had no destination in mind.

He couldn't stop playing the afternoon's events over in his mind. Potter having him at wand point, just because he had shouted. The boy was too paranoid, his reflexes too well honed. The Dark Lord did not want him to be able to display this level of skill, and somebody would surely be punished when he found out. With any luck, it would only be Wormtail.

And then the two boys storming out of class. He had wanted to hold the Longbottom boy back, knowing that he would be a useful ally, even if the boy had no idea he was being used as such.

But no, now he would need to come up with another plan. He needed to hurry- the year would pass quickly, and the Dark Lord must have the boy. Barty wouldn't fail, no matter how many obstacles Potter tried to throw in his path.