“From Hogwarts,” Dumbledore paused. “Natsu Dragneel.” I couldn’t quite remember who that was, but everyone else seemed to.

 “WHAT?!" Everyone, who did not know he put his name in the goblet, cried. I craned my neck to see a Pink haired guy a few people down from him pump his fist, stand up, and saunter down the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables.

 Dumbledore raised a hand for silence, which immediately fell, as the next slip of paper burst out of the goblet and fluttered into Dumbledore's hand.

 "And from Durmstrang" he paused "Viktor Krum." The hall burst into clapping and whistling-for a good reason.

 "Knew it would be him!" Ron exclaimed.

 Krum stood up and walked to the same door at the back. Another hush quickly fell over the crowd, and the goblet’s flames once again turned bright red, and spit out the next slip. “From Durmstrang,” Dumbledore announced as he caught it, “Andrei Minkov” Everyone looked across the hall to see a big surly guy, similar to Krum-thick eyebrows, close-cropped black hair, except this guy was a little shorter, a little bulkier, and a much bigger nose. There was a huge outburst of clapping and cheering from the Durmstrang students, and a small pattering (A/N: I have no idea if that’s a word or not, but it just sounds right) from the rest of us. He walked up the same route Krum did, except, I noticed, with better posture.

 For the fifth time, the goblet spit out a slip of charred paper. Dumbledore caught it, and read out “From Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour.” A girl that closely resembled a Veela smiled, and stood up. She had waist-length, light blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and pale skin. Like a fairy, she walked (or should I say floated) to the door.

 The last slip: “And last but not least, from Beauxbatons, Clementine Blanchett.”A girl with black bob, dark skin and surprisingly bright blue eyes stood up, and walked gracefully to the same door.

 A/N: Directly from the book:

 “Oh, look, they’re all disappointed!” Hermione said, with mock sympathy. ‘Disappointed’ may have been an understatement. Two of the other girls had dissolved into tears, sobbing with their heads in their arms.

 “Excellent!” Dumbledore called happily. “Well, we now have our champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster, By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real-”

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

 The fire in the Goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

 Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and we all stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat, and read out- “Harry Potter.”

 Partially from the book:

 I was shocked. I turned, and looked at Harry, who was sitting, frozen, mouth hanging open.

 “I didn’t put my name in.” Harry stated blankly. “You know I didn’t.”

 “Harry Potter!” He called again “Harry! Up here, if you please!”

 “Go on” Hermione whispered, giving Harry a slight push.

 Okay this isn’t from  the book:

 Harry stood up, and stumbled a bit, and walked slowly to the same door the other six had gone through. Once he was gone, Dumbledore, still smiling broadly, announced “Well, after that excitement, off to bed you go! Pip-pip!” Everyone, still in shock, got up slowly. There was a low buzz, from people murmuring. First of all, how did two fourteen year olds get into a competition only for the seventeen and above? Second of all, how was there an extra champion from Hogwarts? Everyone, except the Gryffindor house, it seemed, minded. When I got up to the common room, Fred and George had already gotten food from the kitchens, and set up a bit of a party.

 I was way too tired to stay around, so I went up to the dormitories, and fell asleep fast.

 LINE BREAK WOOHOO SO FUN!!

 The next morning, Ron seemed miffed about something, and got dressed and went down to breakfast before Harry even woke up.

 The Gryffindor table-or, at least, a seventh of it-was buzzing. All of us Gryffindor fourth years had heard about Professor Moody from friends-whether they be in another class or year. Apparently he was unlike any DADA professor anyone had ever had. Personally, I was scared. He seemed creepy, and the whole ex-auror vibe kind of weirded me out.

 Oh My Gods another LINE BREAK!! lalalalalhumdeedumleedumdum And before you ask, yes, the next bit is MOSTLY taken directly from the book.

 We were all so excited for the lesson, we arrived as early as possible to lunch, and to the DADA classroom, lined up next to the door before the bell even rang. The only person missing was Hermione, who skidded to a stop next to us just on time.

 “Been in the-”

“-Library.” Harry finished for her. “C’mon, or we won’t get good seats."

 The three of them hurried into chairs right in front of the teacher’s desk, took out copies of the DADA book, while I hung back a bit, and grabbed a seat near the middle. Soon we all heard Moody’s distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. We could all see is clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.

 “You can put those away,” He growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, “Those books. You won’t need them.”

 We returned the books to our bags, Ron looking excited.

 Moody took out the register, shook his long mane of grizzled grey hair out of his twisted and scarred face and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swivelled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.

 “Right then,” He said, when the last person declared themselves present, “i’ve had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you’ve had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you’ve covered Boggarts, Red Caps, Hinkypunks, Grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?

 There was a general murmur of assent.

 “But you’re behind - very behind - on dealing with curses,” said Moody. “So I’m here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I’ve got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark-”

 “What, aren’t you staying?” Ron blurted out.

 Moody’s magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled - the first time I had ever seen him do so. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but nevertheless a relief to know that he ever did anything as friendly as a smile. Ron visibly sighed, relieved.

 “You’ll be Arthur Weasley’s son, eh?” Moody said. “Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago… yeah, I’m just staying one year. Special favour to Dumbledore… one year, then back to my quiet retirement.”

 he gave a harsh laugh, then clapped his hands together.

 “So - straight to it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I’m supposed to teach you counter-curses and leave it at that. I’m not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you’re in the sixth year. You’re not supposed to be old enough to deal with it ‘til then. But Professor Dumbledore’s got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you’re up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you’ve never seen? A wizard who’s about to put an illegal curse on you isn’t going to tell you what he’s going to do. He’s not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I’m talking.”

  Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvati her complete horoscope under the desk. Apparently Moody’s magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out the back of his head.

 “So... do any of you know which curses are the most heavily punished by wizarding law?”

 I know one, I thought darkly, before shaking that thought out of my head.

 I looked up to see several hands rise tentatively into the air, including Ron’s and Hermione’s. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender.

 “Er,” said Ron tentatively, “My dad told me about one… is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?”

 "Ah, yes,” said Moody appreciatively. “your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse.”

 Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large, black spiders were scuttling around inside it. I noticed Ron recoil slightly - Ron hated spiders.

 Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders and held it in the palm of his hand so we could all see it.

 He then pointed his wand at it, and muttered “Imperio!”

 The spider leapt from Moody’s hand on a fine thread of silk, and began to swing backwards and forwards as if on a trapeze. It stretched its legs out rigidly, then did a backflip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

 We were all laughing - all except Moody.

 “Think it’s funny, do you?” He growled. “You’d like it, would you, if I did it to you?”

 The laughter died away almost instantly.

 “Total control,” Said Moody quietly, as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. “I could make it jump out the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…”

 Ron gave an involuntary shudder.

 “Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse,” Said Moody, and I knew he was talking about when you-know-who was powerful. “Some job at the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I’ll be teaching you how, but it takes strength and character, and not everyone’s got it. Better avoid getting hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” He barked, and we all jumped.

 Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar. “Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?”

 Hermione’s hand flew into the air again, and so did mine, almost against my will. It shocked me, my own daring, to volunteer such information - the spell that made my parents what they were today.

 “Yes?” Said Moody, his magical eye rolling over to fix on me.

 “There’s  one - the Cruciatus curse,” I said, so quietly I was surprised anyone else could hear it. I stared at my desk, my throat burning.

 “Your name’s Longbottom?” Moody asked. He knows what happened to my parents. He recognizes my surname. I thought, and nodded.

Thankfully, Moody made no further enquiries. I heard the screwing of a lid, the faint sound  of fingers scraping the bottom of the jar, and Moody’s voice. “The Cruciatus Curse,” He said. “Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea” He said, and I had a feeling he was pointing his wand at the spider. “Engorgio!” The scraping of a chair.

I looked up to see the spider, now the size of a tarantula, quivering on the desk, Moody’s wand pointed at it. Ron was leaning backwards, trying to get away from the creature. “Crucio!” 

At once, the spider’s legs bent in upon its body; I remembered the day, even though I was merely one at the time. The owl came. My grandmother read the letter. The spider rolled over and began to twitch horribly. I had spent the rest of the day with one of my relatives. No sound came from the spider, but I figured, had it been given a voice, it would have been screaming. That night, my grandmother came home, tear tracks glistening on her tortured face. Moody still did not remove his wand. The next day, I visited my parents. They didn’t recognize me. The spider started to shudder and jerk more violently-

“Stop it!” Hermione said shrilly. I let out a breath, realizing I had been clenching my hands on my desk, my knuckles turning white. I looked at Hermione and thanked her silently.

Moody raised his wand. The spider’s legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

“Reducio.” Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. he put it back into the jar.

 “Pain,” Said Moody softly. “You don’t need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse… that was popular once, too. Right… anyone know any others?”

 I looked around. From the looks on everyone’s faces, I guessed they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. Hermione’s hand shook slightly, as, for the third time, she raised it into the air.

 "Yes?” said Moody, looking at her.

 “Avada Kedavra,” Hermione whispered.

 Several people looked uneasily around at her.

 “Ah,” Said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. “yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra… the killing curse.”

 He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody’s fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface. Moody raised his wand, and I felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.

 “Avada Kedavra!” Moody roared.

 There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the girls stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backwards and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded towards him.

 Moody swept the dead spider off the the the desk onto the floor.

 “Not nice,” he said calmly. “Not pleasant. And there’s no counter-curse. There’s no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he’s sitting right in front of me.”

 I saw Harry’s face turn bright red, as both Moody’s eyes looked into his. I realized that I wasn’t the only one that had just witnessed the spell used to make my parents the way they were. I wanted to reach out to him, pat him on the shoulder. But I couldn’t. Moody started talking again, but I wasn’t listening,I was lost in my thoughts.

 For the rest of the lesson, we took notes on each of the unforgivable curses. No one spoke for the rest of the lesson. As soon as the it was over I got as far as possible from the room as I could. I stared at the stone wall in front of me, still immersed in the memory. I heard someone coming up behind me. I turned around, and saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

 “Neville?” Hermione said gently.

 “Oh, hello,” I said, my voice about an octave higher than usual. “Interesting lesson, wasn’t it? I wonder what’s for dinner, I’m-I’m starving, aren’t you?”

 “Neville, are you alright?” Said Hermione.

“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” I gabbled, in the same unnaturally high voice. “Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what’s for eating?” Internally I cursed myself.

 “Neville, what-?”

 But an odd clunking noise sounded behind us, and we turned to see Professor Moody limping towards us. All four of us fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than I had ever heard.

 “It’s alright, sonny,” He said to me. “Why don’t you come up to my office? Come on… we can have a cup of tea…”

 I was even more frightened before at the prospect of tea with Moody. I didn’t move or speak.

 Moody turned his magical eye upon harry. “You alright, are you, Potter?”

 “Yes.” Harry answered defiantly.

 Moody’s eyes quivered slightly in its slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry.

Then he said “You’ve got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you’ve got to know. No point pretending… well… come on, Longbottom, I’ve got some books that might interest you.”

I looked pleadingly at the other three, but they didn’t say anything, so I had no choice but to allow myself to be steered away, one of Moody’s gnarled hands on my shoulder.

 We silently walked to his office, my heart sinking lower with every step. By the time it was at my feet, the door was creaking open to reveal a room full of what appeared to be Dark magic detectors.

 Moody sat down behind the desk, and gestured to the seat on the other side. I sat down awkwardly and accepted a cup of tea. I sipped it. Earl Grey.

 “Are you alright, Longbottom?” He asked gently.

 I nodded, and swallowed hard. For the next few minutes the two of us sat awkwardly, sipping tea.

 “Those books I mentioned.” Moody grunted, putting his cup down. “Professor Sprout tells me you have an affinity for Herbology.” He pulled out a thick book titled Magical Mediterranean Water-Plants and Their Properties. I involuntarily twitched, reaching forward to hold it. Moody smiled, slightly less creepy than he did towards Ron  “You like it? Do you want to keep it?”

 I was shocked. “Are you serious?” I asked. Moody smiled again, and handed the book to me. I opened it up to a random page. “Thank you so much!” In a rush, I stood up, and excitedly left. When I closed the door, I saw Moody smiling after me. 

A/N: For my sick and delusional self, this made sense to me. If it didn’t please tell me, and I’ll fix it! Please don’t hate us because we made it a six (But more like 7) person tournament instead of 3 (but really 4)! And events are happening out of order! We did it cause we wanted to, so if you have a problem with it, take that somewhere else, please and thank you! Comment, Vote, Subscribe, you know the deal!

-Lindsay