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Harry Potter and the Serpent's Coven | ||||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Fluff, General, Romance Warnings: Death, Sexual Situations, Violence Rating: R Reviews: 90 Summary: *** The author has been reminded via the e-mail address on file that this story is listed as incomplete and has not been updated in over 2 years *** Harry Potter realises that returning to Hogwarts for his final year is the only way he will succeed in his quest to destroy Lord Voldemort. It is a year of darkness, horror and new discoveries. Ginny Weasley is not only the witch who possesses Harry's heart, but also the true source of his strength as a wizard. Together, they will find new powers within themselves and each other, and find that there are some things that even the darkest magic cannot break. Hitcount: Story Total: 170737; Chapter Total: 4210 Author's Notes: It is time for Harry to learn what the Ministry wouldn't want him to... |
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“AGAIN!” roared Professor Moody furiously. Harry picked himself up from the corner of classroom into which he had been violently flung by Moody’s last jinx. He had been trying to get to grips with advanced defensive magic for the past five weeks, and now he was beginning to realise just how brutal the duelling methods of dark wizards could be. He was aching all over and had, on many occasions, been on the brink of asking the professor if he could just take a rest for a while. What had silenced him in such times was a gentle reminder that no Death Eater would allow him that luxury. “You should’ve seen that one coming a mile off!” he continued abrasively, “Get that instinct of yours working! There are certain spells that Dark wizards favour, and it’s your job to be ready for any one of them at any time.” Without a word, Harry dusted himself off and blocked the next two jinxes in quick succession, before firing a stunning spell of his own. He was a good deal cheered to see that this last almost caught Moody off his guard. As they paused for breath, Harry noticed the grave expression on his teacher’s face. “Well, you’re getting better, there’s no doubt about that,” growled Moody, “and maybe I’m starting this topic a little sooner than I should, but I believe it’s right that we begin addressing this now. You asked me about the Unforgivable Curses, and now your curiosity will be rewarded.” He hobbled back to his desk, wincing in annoyance as his wooden leg began to cause him fleeting pain, and beckoned to Harry to sit down. Professor Moody’s appearance was more deceptive than ever. His scarred face was looking increasingly weathered, and though he rarely placed much importance in his appearance, his clothes were shabbier than ever. Perhaps his age had also caught up with him, but Harry needed only to remember Dumbledore to know that it would take more than age to slow the wits of such a great wizard. “All this involves finely tuned defensive skills,” he continued, both eyes now studying Harry, “It’s not easy, but you yourself are living proof that nothing is impossible, and always remember that the Unforgivable Curses are not the last word in battle. You just have to gain a fuller understanding of them and the magic from which they stem.” Taking up a piece of chalk, he moved over to the blackboard and listed the three curses. “Firstly, the Imperius Curse,” he said, stabbing viciously at the words on the board and breaking the chalk in the process, “Now here’s where your lessons with Professor Lockhart become so important. Occlumency will protect your mind, not only from those who wish to get a glimpse inside, but also from any who would use you to do their bidding. The curse itself may still slow you down a bit, but if you can shield yourself well enough, they won’t make you do anything against your will. Those lessons are of paramount importance, so make sure you keep up the hard work!” This caused Harry to worry that he hadn’t been working half as hard as he should have been. “And now, we have the Cruciatus Curse,” Moody continued, before he had the chance to dwell any further on the subject, “Don’t even think about using your standard protective charms against it, in fact, try not to think about defensive magic at all. When a dark wizard sends a curse like this your way, it’s time to fight fire with fire, and I’ll be showing you a few examples of that a little later. Unless, of course, you would prefer the kind of excruciating pain that could have you pleading for your throat to be cut?” Having experienced a small dose of this sensation firsthand, Harry decided that he would do well to pay attention to every word that Mad-Eye had to say. What worried him was just how far a practical demonstration could be taken. Pointing grimly at the final name on the board, the professor lowered his voice and spoke almost as if he were delivering a eulogy at a funeral. “And here is the curse with which you are most tragically all too familiar. I am told that the Dark Lord has tried no fewer than three times to end your life with it, so I consider it truly remarkable that you are sitting in front of me now. Avada Kedavra, under any normal circumstances, will kill instantly. There are only two ways that the target could survive once the spell has been cast; the first being if it misses them altogether, and second is if there is very sturdy object or a very unfortunate individual to take the impact instead. Your first encounter with Voldemort, however, wasn’t exactly under ‘normal’ circumstances.” Harry began wondering for the first time what kind of experience Moody himself had had with these curses in the heat of battle. “What you have to realise is that it all comes from a good deal of concentrated thought, as well as a heavy dose of sadism and bitterness,” the professor continued, “If you strike effectively at the mind of your opponent, it’s possible to undo the magic behind the curse, and some very nasty things can happen to those who attempt to use Unforgivable Curses after sustaining the right kind of mental damage.” Moody then took the largest fragment of chalk and made another list on the blackboard. “These are just a few of the charms and jinxes you can use addle the brains of a dark wizard, ranging from the mild to the severe. I expect you to be able to perform all of them non-verbally, and without a moment’s hesitation.” There were some spells on the list that Harry recognised immediately, and some he had never yet come across. There was a small assortment of stunning spells near the top, as well as a few designed to hypnotise. The names became more a more unfamiliar as the list went on. “The…’Exterritus’ charm?” he enquired, picking a spell at random as Moody finished. “Ah yes,” came the reply, along with an expression that was part caution and part guilty amusement, “Even the top ministry aurors have to receive prior consent before using that one, and they need a pretty solid case for making the request. I can’t pretend that I myself haven’t used it a few times in the line of duty, though it must be said that I didn’t have much regard for ministry guidelines and regulations.” He scowled as these words passed his lips. Harry was well aware of Professor Moody’s distain for the Ministry of Magic, and couldn’t help agreeing with him, from what he knew of the matter. “But what does it do?” he asked. “Fear, Harry,” enunciated the professor, “The purest form of paranoia. They become terrified of their surroundings, and then, depending on the force you put behind the casting of the charm itself, the fear can drive them mad. I used it when pursuing Dark wizards because fear, panic, hesitation, anxiety; it all causes mistakes. Every mistake a Dark wizard makes is an advantage to those who face them.” Harry was utterly thrilled by this. He scanned down the rest of the names and chose another. “Corrumpus?” “Hmm…very nasty piece of work, that one,” growled Moody, “when used under the right circumstances, of course. It manipulates the lines of communication between mind and body; causes exaggerated twitchy movements, involuntary violent spasms of the limbs, all sorts. The victim will be totally unaware that anything’s amiss until they try moving in some way, and let’s just say that using an Unforgivable Curse while you’re in that kind of state is not advisable!” It was time, Harry felt, to address the question that had worked its way to the front of his mind. “Professor, I don’t quite understand how we can practice all this…” “Without one of us being killed or committed to St Mungo’s Hospital for the rest of their life?” cut in Moody with a grin, “There is a way, Harry, and it’s a case of employing a very simple measure of which surprisingly few witches or wizards are aware.” The professor then drew his wand and pointed it towards the ceiling. “Futilius” he muttered, and the wand glowed a deep blue for a moment before returning to normal. Harry looked on curiously as he pointed it at a large glass candle holder mounted on the wall. “Reducto!” he barked. A small flash of light flew from the wand tip, but the glass candle holder remained intact. “You see,” said Moody, turning back to Harry, “It effectively disables your wand; renders it totally harmless. The spells will be cast alright, but their targets will be unchanged. I could stand here and shout ‘Avada Kedavra’ at you all day long, and the most damage I could hope to do would be to your eyesight, with all those flashes of green. Quite easy to reverse, of course. Just say ‘Restituo’ and you’ll be back in business.” Harry then drew his own wand. “Futilius” he said, and his wand glowed just as the professor’s had done. “Good,” replied Moody, moving into a more open space, “Now we can begin. One thing to remember is that you won’t find many dark wizards who are able to perform Unforgivable Curses whilst trying to continuously fend off attacks, so a good place to start is learning how to gain the upper hand in rapid combat. What you have to do is force them back until they can do nothing but defend themselves. You can expect the likes of the Cruciatus curse when they have time to breathe, so your first job is to deny them that. Think faster and act faster, that’s the key.” Stopping for a moment to ponder this concept, Harry was suddenly startled and blinded by a lightening-fast barrage of spells that seemed to explode in small flares of light, mere inches from his chest and face. He staggered backwards in shock, and Professor Moody declared a ceasefire. He looked stone-faced at Harry, and spoke in very grim tones. “You should be thankful that as a teacher, I can be very safety conscious when I want to be…because otherwise, I would’ve just killed you in four different ways, and two of them would have you dead before you hit the ground. Not a pretty sight it would have been either.” As Harry steadied his breathing, he began to see once again just how far out of his depth he was. “Out of curiosity,” Moody continued, “when were you planning to raise your wand and defend yourself? You must be prepared at all times! It’s that sort of attitude that has kept me alive all these years, and even then I’ve had more than my fair share of close shaves.” The boy was now staring at him, lost for words and convinced that it was unjust for this much to be expected of him already. The professor’s expression softened into a kindly smile, as if he could somehow hear what Harry wanted to say. He limped towards him and focused both his eyes sympathetically, or as much so as he could manage with his magical eye. “Look, I know it’s not easy. You can’t just become an Auror overnight, and what I ask of you is far more demanding, but it’s all there,” he emphasised, tapping a finger against Harry’s forehead, “If I didn’t think you could do this, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now. Think about the lessons so far, Potter. Have I ever lost my patience? Have I ever had to explain anything to you more than once? It’s in your blood, and all you need to do focus and develop the gifts you’ve always had.” He backed away and resumed a duelling stance. “With our wands disabled, you will be able to safely attempt counter-measures to the Unforgivable Curses, and trust me, I’ll know if they would have been effective. For now, I’ll let you attack first.” Harry raised his wand and did as he was told. An instant later, he heard a venomous roar from Professor Moody. “Crucio!” The light that shot from the tip of the professor’s wand became suddenly blurred after about four feet, as it appeared to come to blows with Harry’s spell. Slowly, the light dispersed into thin air. Moody was giving him what he took to be an encouraging look. “A Confundus charm?” he said with a raised eyebrow, “Simple, and in this case, effective, but you leave far too much to chance with that one. You need to attack the mind without mercy, as well as defend yourself. Remember, it could happen as soon as they have a moment to concentrate, so that is when you should be expecting it. We shall try again, but this time as a proper duel.” Acting on what had now become some kind of gut reaction, Harry launched a series of jinxes at his teacher as fast as he possibly could, some of which were actually reaching within a couple of feet of their intended target before being deflected. He was also pleased to discover that his defensive charms were now effortless, as Moody fought back. Then, as if naturally anticipating that the worst was about to happen, be began to run through the charms he had remembered from the blackboard in his head, hoping that he would be capable of casting the right one. He watched as a cold and hateful expression slowly crept over the professor’s face, all the while continuing the increasingly rapid exchange of violent magic. He knew that expression. He had seen it on Professor Snape’s face as he took Dumbledore’s life, and he had seen it burned into the face of Lord Voldemort in his dreams. Concentrating as painfully as he could, he summoned a charm to his mind. “EXTERRITUS!” cried a voice inside his head, and the charm was cast before he even realised he had not spoken it aloud. All of a sudden, the only thing Harry could hear was his own heartbeat. He saw Moody’s mouth roaring the words of the curse, but was deaf to his voice. There came a slight rush of air against his face as the jet of green light soared from the professor’s wand, but as the two spells clashed between them, the green light stopped dead like a vicious dog whose owner had suddenly tightened its leash. Both Harry and Moody stared in disbelief as the lights began to swirl around one another and turn to a rich purple glow. A stream of purple light then shot back towards Moody and exploded in a blinding flash, a few inches from his chest. The air was then filled with a cocktail of silence and smoke. Moody waved the smoke out of his face, his magical eye swivelling in every direction as he lowered his wand and slowly approached the boy. He beamed at Harry like a proud father, evidently very excited about what he had just seen. “You’re not ready,” he said, his face looking suddenly wary, before his smile returned, “but you’re so much closer than I imagined. That was proof beyond doubt that Dumbledore didn’t make a mistake.” As the lesson drew to a close, Harry still couldn’t help feeling that he had only scratched the surface of what Defence against the Dark Arts was really about, and had only just begun to learn what he would need to know. For starters, there was only one of Professor Moody, so how could he handle being set upon by half a dozen Death Eaters? He was also thoroughly unconvinced that he would prove to be any kind of challenge for Voldemort himself. The hour was later than he had thought, and on his way back from the lesson, he found himself face to face with an agitated and breathless Ginny. “Where have you been?” she gasped, “I’ve been looking everywhere! Ron and Hermione have been itching to speak to you all afternoon, and I…I’ve…missed you.” Harry smiled at her. “You’re the Legilimens,” he replied, raising his eyebrow, “Why don’t you tell me where I’ve been?” “I’ve told you before, I won’t use that against you,” she said, throwing him an impatient look, “I won’t use it against you, Ron, Hermione, or anyone else I care about. Do you think I’m comfortable being able to do that? I never asked for it.” Harry didn’t answer. He was distracted by the sight of Robert Darius, one of the new Slytherin first years, who was walking hesitantly along the corridor towards them. “What’s he doing here?” whispered Harry. Robert halted in his tracks as Ginny turned to face him. Now was no time to be petty about bitter rivalry between houses, she decided. “Excuse me,” she said kindly, “but are you lost? Slytherin common room’s just back down the way you’ve come, then turn left.” The boy remained motionless, and seemed very nervous indeed. After a pause, he took a couple of small steps back. “Are you alright?” she said, looking at him more closely. Robert did nothing to disguise the fear in his countenance, and without warning, her mind’s eye opened. She needed only a second’s glance at him before she spun back round. “Harry, behind you!” With a single fluid motion, Harry pulled Ginny to the ground and drew his wand, just as two jinxes flew over their heads. This time, his attack was cast almost before he could think about it. He was only aware of the spells rocketing from his wand tip, and saw Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bullstrode flung like rag dolls against the opposite wall as he looked up. As they sat on the ground, both dazed and frightened, there came a booming voice from behind Robert. “What the blazes is going on here?!” barked Moody sharply, before turning to the petrified first year, “You boy! Go to the hospital wing and tell Madame Pomfrey there’s two seventh year girls who need treating for shock, maybe some bruising too. Hurry up!” “Now, you two,” he growled, addressing Pansy and Millicent and ignoring the two Gryffindors, “Can you stand up alright? Any dizziness at all? Feel like there’s anything broken?” They whimpered in reply and staggered to their feet. “Good,” Moody continued, “I’ll accompany you to see Madame Pomfrey. Better safe than sorry, eh?” They limped past him just as Harry and Ginny stood up. “As for this young wretch,” he said, turning to Harry, “I believe Mr Filch will have plenty of unpleasant tasks to delegate, as soon as I’ve had an explanation as to what happened here!” The two Slytherin girls looked back at them, attempting to grin through the discomfort. Both Harry and Ginny were on the point of protesting until he drew level with them and spoke excitedly in a low whisper. “Excellent, Potter! I saw the whole thing. No hesitation, dead on target, and you had them both completely unprepared! I’m telling you now, you’re a credit to me, to your mother and father, and a credit to Albus Dumbledore!” |
| Reviews 90 |
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