Once Upon A Time | Book 1

F o u r

As soon as we entered the classroom, I noticed that the new Professor had not yet arrived. But, they had fixed up the room quite nicely. Desks aligned the room in an organized manner, and on the teacher's desk, sat several jars of what most would call 'creepy-crawlies.' I thought the room was quite interesting.

Hermione grabbed Ron's arm, and pulled him over to a desk, where the two of them sat. That left Harry and I to find our own desk to sit at, which we did.

"I-I er...like your bracelet." Harry told me, gesturing to my wrist. I noticed a slight hint of pink on his cheeks, but decided to ignore it. 

"Thanks, my mum gave it to me for Christmas last year."

Before we could continue our conversation, the door burst open, and a man walked in. I had never seen anyone with features like his.

The first thing I noticed was that one of his eyes was strapped to his face. Clearly, the eye was made of glass, but it moved around so quickly, it was almost as if it were real.

The eye didn't seem to ever stop moving from one side of the room to the other, as though it were scanning each of us. It paused briefly when it landed on Harry, but it quickly looked away.

Secondly, a huge chunk of the man's nose was completely gone. It was obvious that whoever this was must've gone through quite a bit in his past, and probably knew a lot about the Dark Arts.

As he walked past, I saw that he had one real leg, and one metal leg. He used a tall wooden staff to help him walk. Each time he took a step with his metal leg, the staff thumped on the ground.

"Who's that, Harry?" I whispered. 

"According to Ron, his name is Alastor Moody. He's supposed to be one of the best Aurors of all time." He explained, not taking his eyes off the man.

Once Mr. Moody was in the front of the room, he cleared his throat, and began to speak.

"Alastor Moody," He began. "Ex-auror, Ministry malcontent, and your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I am here because Dumbledore asked me, end of story, goodbye, the end! Any questions?"

Harry and I exchanged shocked expressions, before turning our attention back to Professor Moody.

"When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach. But first, which of you can tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?" He asked.

Three. There were three Curses. I knew this one. Quickly, I raised my hand, but Hermione beat me to it.

"Three, sir," She said.

"And they are so named?" 

"Because they are Unforgivable. The use of only one of them will--"

"Earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Correct!" He scribbled these words on the chalkboard, in handwriting I could barely read. "The Minister says you're too young to see what these Curses do. I say different! You need to know what you're up against! You need to be prepared! You need to find another place to put your chewing gum besides the underside of your desk, Mr. Finnigan!"

Everyone turned, and looked at an Irish boy in Gryffindor robes. His cheeks turned slightly pink, and his eyes went wide. Once Professor Moody turned away, he leaned over and whispered something to one of his friends. This caused the teacher to wheel around, and throw a piece of chalk at him. 

"And hear across classrooms!" He shouted. "So, which Curse shall we see first?"

I felt my eyes widening. In all my years at Hogwarts, I had never even heard my teachers mention the Unforgivable Curses, let alone using them in class.