Collected

Moria had told Isola that Moody's class wasn't much to worry about. The man was just a nutter, an old soldier. He screamed a lot, and he taught in a way that no Hogwarts student had seen.

Still, even knowing this, Isola walked to Defense Against the Dark Arts on Thursday feeling a bit nervous. She didn't show it, however, acting completely relaxed as Draco and Weiss prattled on about nothing she cared for.

They were just a few minutes early to the class, so most of the seats were taken. Pansy Parkinson wasted no time in grabbing Draco and forcing him to sit with her, so Isola was stuck with Weiss, who took the empty chair beside her with a stupid smile on his face.

Moody walked in moments later, grunting out, "You can put those away, those books. You won't need them."

The students looked at him in confusion but did not complain, returning the textbooks to their bags. The man grabbed a long sheet of parchment while shaking his wild mane of hair out of his face, then began to call out names, his normal eye remaining on the list while his other moved around the room with every hand that was raised. The only time he actually looked up was when calling Isola's name, and she couldn't help but narrow her eyes at him, completely baffled by the way one side of his mouth lifted in something close to a smile.

He briefly reviewed what they had learned from Lupin, confessing that they knew enough about dark creatures but not near enough about curses, so that was what he was going to cover.

Starting with The Unforgivables.

Every single Slytherin shifted in their seats, leaning forward, and Isola, taken aback by this, had to admit that this peaked her interest.

"So... do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by Wizarding law?" He asked right after calling Lavender Brown out for not paying attention.

Several hands went up into the air-- the Gryffindors tentative while the Slytherins all seemed very eager. Isola didn't move to answer, just watched and listened. She was curious as to why he, a Dark Wizard catcher, was teaching them this, and just how he would go about it.

Ron Weasley was called on first, "Er, my dad told me about one... Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"

Moody nodded, grinning a bit. "Ah yes, your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse." He walked over to his desk and opened a drawer, retrieving three glass jars from it, each containing a spider.

Pulling one out, he demonstrated, making the arachnid fly around the room, slamming it up against windows and almost drowning it, all without its consent. It was fascinating, and Isola itched to try the curse on a human.

Neville Longbottom raised his hand and listed the Cruciatis Curse. Moody stared at him for a long time, and Isola guessed that it was because he knew the fate of the boy's parents. Bloody Longbottoms, she thought, her mind instantly drifting to her imprisoned savior.

This spider squirmed and writhed, silently begging for relief, and judging by the look on Neville's face, he was none too pleased to witness the curse firsthand. Isola almost felt sorry for him, now knowing that that's what happened to his parents.

What was strange, though, was that Moody looked like he was enjoying the torture, both of the spider and of the Gryffindor. His real eye was wide and manic, and he was entirely focused on the demonstration, only stopping when Hermione Granger stood up and screamed for him to.

"Right... anyone know any others?"

The class remained silent, possibly in shock from the last curse. Neville stared at his desktop, and Granger looked close to tears. The Slytherins just stared on in interest, but Isola doubted any of them had actually seen any of the curses performed like this before.

Finally, with a long exhale, she raised her hand, and Moody cocked his head, pointing his wand at her. "Miss Crouch?"

Staring him down, she answered with a straight face, "Avada Kedavra, the Killing Curse." A few students shuddered at the actual incantation, but Isola felt a certain satisfaction at letting it roll off her tongue.

He didn't say anything, but he eyed the brunette for a long, uncomfortable moment, and she wished she knew what was going through his head.

Moody retrieved another spider with some effort, setting it on his desk and aiming as it attempted to scurry away. "Avada Kedavra."

A blinding green light shot from his wand, hitting the spider and simply knocked it over. It did not move afterward, though, not even a twitch, and the entire class stared at it with giant eyes.

So, that's what it looked like. That's what killing something looked like.

The room was silent for a solid minute, then Moody started talking again about how nobody had ever surived the Killing Curse except for one, and that was, of course, Harry fucking Potter. It made the boy extremely uncomfortable, which made Isola smirk, then the Auror went on about getting sent to Azkaban.

All in all, the class had far exceeded her expecations, though she could definitely go without Moody watching her so closely. Isola despised him, even if he was a good teacher. Walking out of the classroom, though, she turned to look back at him (his eyes were already on her, unsurprisingly), but she felt something-- something very familiar that almost made her bones tingle. It almost felt like Deja Vu, but entirely different, like she was seeing someone she was supposed to know but hadn't met yet.

With a shake of her head, Isola turned back and left the classroom, both excited and angry that she had his class again in just a few days.

Barty was in a good mood. For the first time in a long time, he was in a good mood. Impersonating Moody was turning out to be far too easy, if not a little fun. The students even liked him, the Slytherins being intrigued by him at least because of his knowledge of curses. The Death Eater had to admit, he did have quite a proclivity for teaching.

And then, there was Isola, who kept her mouth shut and observed everything, just like any shrewd wizard should, and when no one else was brave enough to speak up, she finally raised her hand, going as far as to utter the actual Killing Curse. It made his spine tingle with delight. She was so wonderful. If only he could tell her who he was, what was going on. Would she even trust him?

Sitting in his empty DADA room, Barty shook the head that was not his, attempting to clear it.

Focus on Potter, he tried to convince himself. Get him into the tournament. Get him to trust you. Get him to the Dark Lord. That was his job.

Luckily, Barty Crouch, Jr. was quite a powerful wizard. Bewitching the Cup would not be an issue. Convincing Dumbledore and his own wretched father to let the boy compete, however, could be a different story.



The tournament was all that mattered. Yes, the new professor was important, but most everyone was more concerned with who would be brave enough to enter their name into the cup.

Isola spent some time every day down in the room where it was held, just because Moria liked to watch the Durmstrang boys walk by. Isola had to admit that they weren't bad looking, with their dark features and even darker teachings. It felt like she had allies in the school.

Cedric Diggory put his name in, much to Hogwart's delight. Viktor Krum did as well, the Weasley twins attempted an aging spell which backfired, and many, many others also entered.

She could admit, the competition would be interesting to watch. Dumbledore and Crouch had clearly said it would be very dangerous, so Quidditch may have been cancelled for the year, but in it's place, they got something about ten times more gory.



A couple more weeks into term, and all three schools were gathered in the Great Hall, Dumbledore standing at the head of the room with the staff and Barty Crouch, Sr. all around him. Isola stared at the last man, having already seen him the first night, but it brought on such an odd feeling. This was the man who had spawned the boy who saved her from a dismal fate, and they couldn't have been any more different.

This man, despite being a Ministry official, stuttered and avoided eye contact with his audience, almost as if he was unsure of what he said. He seemed nervous and shut his eyes often, and more than once, Dumbledore had to step in to quiet the students who muttered about him.

In contrast, his son had been very sure of himself, even in raising an infant. He was bright, eager in everything he did, even if it was just telling a young Isola a bedtime story. Barty had been a good person in a few ways, but even the way he had shined was different from the goodness of his father.

Crouch, Sr. may have been viewed as a good wizard, and yet, there was a darkness that fell over him, not of the violent, Dark Arts sort, but the I'm-a-man-with-too-many-secrets sort.

To make matters stranger, Isola let her eyes drift to Mad-Eye as Crouch spoke, picking up on the resentment that seemed to radiate off of the Auror. Had the Ministry man somehow wronged him in the past? The way that Moody glared at him with his good eye was enough to send a shiver down Isola's spine, and that was coming from the girl who had performed her first Cruciatis Curse at age nine.

"This is bonkers, isn't i-- What are you staring at?" Moria whispered, leaning over and attempting to follow her friend's line of vision.

"Nothing, just... Does Mad-Eye look angry to you?"

The Seventh year glanced at him and sat back a bit. "Woah, yeah, he looks like he could kill."

Isola nodded, frowning and quickly averting her gaze when the man in question turned his attention to her. It wouldn't have looked odd, her watching him. Everyone knew that she came from dark parts of the Wizarding World (though, no one knew of the bit where she was born unto an Order family). Moody had put away many of the people she had grown up with. It was only natural to keep an eye on him.

Without too much stalling, Dumbledore finally began to call the names of the Triwizard champions. The flames in the goblet turned a bright red, spitting out a singed piece of parchment, and Dumbledore read off, "The champion for Durmstrang will be... Viktor Krum!"

The entire Scandinavian school, as well as most of Hogwarts and Beauxbatons burst into applause, stopping only when another paper shot out.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

More applause. Isola clapped boredly, eyes still flitting to Moody occasionally.

"The Hogwarts champion is," Dumbledore read the name with a sparkle in his blue eyes, "Cedric Diggory!"

The hall could not have possibly gotten any louder as the Hufflepuff stood up, accepting congratulatory hugs and pats on the back, jogging up to join the other two champions.

Everybody clapped, and Dumbledore held his arms out, smiling and waiting for the noise to die down. "Excellent! Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count on 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, the Headmaster stopped, and there was no doubt in anyone's mind as to why. Several of the staff stepped forward, confused frowns on all of the faces in the Great Hall.

The flames in the goblet had started to glow red again, and sparks were being emitted. Suddenly, a long flame shot out of it. Many gasped as a fourth piece of parchment whizzed out, but Dumbledore simply reached out and grabbed it, reading it with a frown.

And, Isola knew. She knew exactly whose name was written down, though she had no idea how it had gotten into the cup.

She looked to Harry Potter first, watching his reaction as Dumbledore called his name. Then, satisfied with his wide eyes and tense body, she turned back to the Auror at the front, large arms crossed over his chest, and while everyone was gasping and whispering, completely surprised, Moody didn't even look fazed.

"Ten galleons says this is another plot to get him killed," Moria muttered.

The brunette laughed, eyes still on the Fourth Year Gryffindor who was now getting yelled at by the other underage students.

"I'm not betting anything. I'm sure that's exactly what's going on."