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The rest of the day passed without much fuss. When the last bell rang, Harry headed back to the Slytherin Common Room. The air was cool in the corridors, a reminder that winter was just around the corner. Once inside, he found the room fairly empty. A few students were gathered by the fire, but most had retreated to their dorms or the library.
Harry made his way to the Serpent's Room and closed the door behind him. He flopped into his favorite chair, stretching his legs out as he considered the day's events. It was the little things that gave him the most insight. Dumbledore's probing, for one. He knew the Headmaster had been testing him, trying to gauge how much he had learned and what he was capable of now. It was a game they played often, both of them dancing around the truth without ever saying it outright.
By the next morning, word had spread fast through the castle. Students and staff alike were buzzing with the news. At breakfast, Harry found himself seated between Tracey and Daphne, who were discussing the rumored arrival of Mad-Eye Moody as their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
"Moody?" Blaise raised an eyebrow. "We're actually going to have an Auror teaching us? Bet he will have us dodging curses before we even finish breakfast."
"Better than Umbridge," Daphne replied, buttering her toast. "At least he's been out there, doing real work. None of this Ministry-approved nonsense."
Harry smirked but stayed quiet. He had already heard that Dumbledore had reached out to Moody, but the details were still up in the air. Either way, Moody's reputation was enough to keep things interesting, and Harry had no doubt the students would prefer him over another Ministry puppet.
Across the table, Draco seemed to have caught onto their conversation. "Moody's got a reputation, alright," he said with a grin. "He's known for going overboard, even for an Auror. But hey, maybe he'll finally teach us something worth knowing."
Blaise chuckled. "As long as he doesn't hex us to high heaven, I'm all for it."
As they finished up, Daphne glanced over at Harry. "So, any big plans for today?"
Harry shrugged, letting a slight smile play on his lips. "Just the usual. Maybe some extra duelling practice."
"Always planning something," Blaise noted, giving him a curious look. "Well, whatever it is, keep us posted. I'd hate to miss out on the fun."
Harry went to the Duelling Club after classes, spending the afternoon with his friends and some younger students eager to learn actual spells. Nearly half the year had been wasted with Umbridge's nonsense, and now the students wanted to catch up on the spells they missed. Harry was more than happy to help, and his friends—who were now sharper than most of the older students—jumped in to teach the basics as well. The club had turned into a solid training ground, always improving, and the progress was steady.
Days rolled by in a blur of classes, practices, and late-night strategy sessions. Harry juggled his responsibilities:
In the club, training sessions focused on spells Umbridge had ignored. They went over charms, transfigurations, and some solid defensive spells, the kind that might actually be useful if they ran into anything dangerous. His friends handled the basics for the younger kids, keeping them engaged while Harry worked with the older students on more challenging spells. The group was thriving, and students from every house kept joining.
Outside of the club, Harry made time to explore the room Dobby had found for him—a hidden chamber that seemed connected to Ravenclaw. It was filled with old books and scrolls, written in ancient runes, which he was certain held some of her most guarded secrets. He'd only scratched the surface of what was there, but it kept pulling him back, an enticing puzzle waiting to be solved.
Then there was Slytherin's legacy, tied to the Chamber of Secrets. Between classes, he slipped down there to test out theories and see if he could uncover any other hidden elements of his ancestor's plans. It was the perfect place to hide away and think, surrounded by the cool, damp silence and old stones that had witnessed more than they'd ever reveal.
Meanwhile, he kept an eye on Bellatrix Lestrange. She'd shaken things up outside the school, and Harry was determined to figure out her next move. With Fudge's death, the Ministry was scrambling, but that wasn't his concern—at least not yet. He'd keep his focus on his tasks inside Hogwarts and save his efforts for dealing with her when the time came.
The Yule Night planning added another layer of chaos. Harry wasn't interested in a flashy event, just something with the right people in the right place. It was about positioning himself and making the right connections, especially now that the Ministry was a mess. He made lists of potential guests, drafted letters with Misty's help, and coordinated with a few house-elves to get the place set up. He didn't bother with the usual suspects; this was for people who mattered, not relics clinging to outdated ideas. He crossed off names of known Death Eaters, under the Imperius Curse or not.
Moody arrived the week after Dumbledore took over that Defense Against the Dark Arts class. As far as Aurors went, he was one of the best. His survival tactics and battle advice were solid, and he knew a lot about dark creatures and curses. But when it came to teaching? Moody wasn't exactly made for it. He had the same problem as Snape—great at the subject, but absolutely useless when it came to passing that knowledge on to others.
Still, the students seemed happy enough, just relieved to have someone in the role who knew their stuff and wasn't another Ministry drone. Even if Moody's style was as rough as it got, he wasn't there to pamper them, which suited Harry fine. Harry figured he might as well lift the curse on the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts while Moody was around; better to keep someone capable, even if a bit unhinged, than to risk another Umbridge popping up. Better the devil you knew than the devil you didn't.
Over the next few classes, Moody went through counter-curse spells and ambush tactics like he was training them for the front lines. It was tough, but Harry found himself actually enjoying it. Moody never went easy on anyone, and Harry respected that. By the end of the week, the class was running through drills like they were at boot camp. They were tired, but at least they weren't wasting time on Ministry-approved nonsense.
When the lesson wrapped up, Harry sat at Slytherin table for lunch, with his friends sitting around him. They were all still muttering about the grueling exercises Moody had put them through.
"Almost makes me miss Umbridge," Draco grumbled, stretching out his shoulder. "Almost."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You would rather be copying out paragraphs on 'The Theory of Defensive Spells'?"
Draco snorted. "Alright, point taken."
Daphne rolled her eyes. "At least Moody's stuff might actually keep us alive. I mean, who knew we would be out there dodging curses at ten in the morning?"
"That's his way of saying 'good morning,'" Harry replied, smirking. "And you'd better get used to it. I don't think he's planning to go any easier on us."
Pansy plopped down next to Harry, dropping her bag with a thud and sighing loudly. "You know, I never thought I'd be grateful for all those morning tor-exercises you put us through, Harry," she said, leaning back. "They actually made Moody's drills a bit less awful."
Draco scoffed, rubbing his shoulder. "Yeah, if by 'a bit less awful' you mean they only destroyed half my muscles instead of all of them."
Harry smirked, shaking his head. "See? I knew you'd all appreciate those early sessions eventually. Think of it as a gift."
Tracey raised an eyebrow, holding back a grin. "A gift, sure. I'll remember that next time you're making us run laps at sunrise."
Neville joined them, dropping into the seat across from Harry with a tired grin. "Honestly, I thought I would die back there. But I can actually dodge the spells now, so maybe it's not all bad." He paused, catching his breath. "And Moody isn't even as bad as they make him out to be. Just... intense."
Pansy chuckled, resting her chin on her hand. "I guess intense is one way to put it. I swear, I thought his eye was going to pop out of his head when he was yelling at Nott for not moving fast enough."
Draco glanced over at Harry. "So, what do you think of him? Seems like you two might actually get along."
Harry shrugged, leaning back. "He's sharp. Knows his stuff. And he's got no patience for slacking off, which I respect"
"Yeah, and if we're not dead by the end of it, maybe we'll even get good at something," Tracey said, grinning.
Blaise looked around, obviously amused. "Sounds like we're becoming a bit more like the Gryffindors, don't you think?"
"Hey now," Daphne said, nudging him. "We're not running off into danger without thinking. We're just... taking a more hands-on approach. No offense." She looked at Neville, Hermione, Ginny and others.
The twins squinted at Daphne, smirking. "Oh, all taken, Ms. Greengrass," Fred quipped, earning a few chuckles from the group. Astoria, sitting nearby, stuck her tongue out at the twins and turned to Harry with a serious look. "Harry, will he interfere with the Duelling Club?" she asked, tilting her head. "In the first-year class, he said bad practice is worse than doing nothing."
Susan and Hannah, who had been quietly listening, shared a worried glance. Hannah finally spoke up, "Not the club. We're learning way more there than in class."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Now, now. Let's not be too disrespectful to our professors," he said lightly. "But I doubt Professor Moody would have a problem with the club. He just wants to make sure we're not just flinging spells around without a clue."
Astoria smiled in relief, while Susan and Hannah relaxed a bit. The atmosphere around the table lightened, with everyone slowly easing into casual conversation again.
"Good," Susan said, visibly relieved. "The last thing we need is him thinking we're playing around."
Fred, as usual, wasn't about to let the conversation stay serious for long. "We've got more brains between us than the Ministry," he said, winking.
Draco added his two cents. "Moody doesn't strike me as someone who'd let us get lazy. If anything, he'll make sure we're more prepared than we were before."
Tracey nodded in agreement. "He's already pushing us harder than any of the previous Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. I don't think he'll shut down anything useful."
"Exactly," Harry said. "We just have to make sure the Duelling Club stays organized, focused, and doesn't turn into a free-for-all."
"Honestly," Blaise cut in, grinning, "if he had a clue what we're really up to, he'd probably want to join."
"Maybe," Daphne replied, casting a playful glance at Harry. "But he'd better be ready to keep up."
"Think he can handle Harry?" Draco asked, raising a teasing eyebrow.
The group chuckled, picturing a winded Moody trailing after them. Astoria smirked and said, "I can just see it—Moody panting after ten laps around the lake, begging for a break. Just like Pansy does."
Pansy shot her a look. "Oi! That was one time," she huffed, then glared at Tracey, who burst into laughter.
"Sure, one time every single morning," Tracey teased back, grinning.
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