Professor Moody, of course, knew Neville—or rather, he knew Neville's parents, Frank Longbottom and Alice Longbottom.
Both were veteran members of the Order of the Phoenix, having made significant contributions in the fight against the Death Eaters and Voldemort's dark forces.
Over a decade ago, Frank and Alice were captured by Bellatrix Lestrange and other Death Eaters, subjected to the cruel torment of the Cruciatus Curse. The ordeal drove Frank mad, while Alice suffered severe mental trauma, losing her memory and the ability to recognize her own son, Neville Longbottom.
Back then, Professor Moody had also been a member of the Order of the Phoenix.
However, he didn't call on Neville first. After scanning the classroom, his gaze settled on Ron.
"Mr. Weasley," Moody said, pointing at Ron.
His magical eye, however, remained fixed on Seamus, ensuring he wouldn't try sticking chewing gum under the desk again.
Seamus sat rigid, barely moving, terrified of what this slightly unhinged professor might do to him.
Ron stood, cleared his throat, and said, "Well, Professor, I know a spell called the Imperius Curse."
"Ah, yes," Moody said approvingly. "Your father would certainly know that one… Back in the day, the Imperius Curse caused quite a bit of trouble for the Ministry."
He waved a hand, signaling Ron to sit down.
Once Ron was seated, Moody picked up his wand and, with a flick, opened the box he'd brought into the classroom.
Three bottles floated out, landing gently on the lectern.
Inside were enormous black spiders, clearly not of the mildly venomous variety. The red spots on their bodies warned everyone that these were highly dangerous, venomous creatures.
Ron swallowed hard. Though he'd gotten decent at spellwork, spiders still unnerved him.
Moody reached into a bottle, grabbed a spider despite its frantic struggles and snapping mandibles, and held it in his open palm for all to see.
"What a lovely little beauty…" he murmured softly.
Then, pointing his wand at it, he muttered, "Engorgio!"
The spider swelled in size. Ron swallowed again, subtly scooting his chair back.
"Imperio!"
The spider leapt from Moody's palm, dangling from a thin thread, swinging back and forth as if on a high swing.
It stiffened its legs, then flipped backward, snapping the thread.
It landed on the desk and began tumbling in circles.
With a flick of Moody's wand, it stood on its two back legs and started performing a tap dance—yes, an actual tap dance.
The class burst into laughter—everyone except Moody.
"Think it's funny, do you?" he asked in a gravelly voice. "Would you like it if I did this to one of you?"
The laughter died almost instantly.
"Completely under my control," Moody said softly, as the spider curled into a ball and rolled back and forth. "I could make it jump out the window, drown itself, or leap down one of your throats…"
At those words, Ron's face froze, as if a spider had truly crawled down his throat.
He felt a bit dejected.
Why does my imagination have to be so vivid?
"Years ago, many wizards were controlled by the Imperius Curse," Moody continued. "I'm talking about the days when Voldemort's forces were at their strongest. The Ministry was in chaos, trying to sort out who was acting under duress and who was acting of their own free will."
As he spoke, Moody's magical eye shifted from Seamus and locked onto Draco.
Catching the professor's gaze, Draco gave an unwilling huff.
He knew Moody was singling him out.
Before the term started, Draco's father, Lucius, had pulled him aside and warned him not to give Mad-Eye Moody any leverage at school.
In Lucius's words, Moody was the type who targeted people, not actions. Once he decided someone was trouble, he'd never let it go.
Draco, heeding his father's advice, kept his head down.
"The Imperius Curse can be resisted," Moody said. "I'll teach you how, but it takes immense strength of character—not everyone can manage it. Your best bet is to avoid being hit by it altogether."
"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody suddenly roared, startling the class.
He seemed pleased by their startled reactions.
"Anyone else know any curses? Illegal ones?" he asked, scanning the room.
This time, he pointed at Neville. "You. Answer."
"There's the Cruciatus Curse," Neville said calmly. "The incantation is 'Crucio.' It's a deeply evil dark spell. Those hit by it feel excruciating, bone-deep pain. The agony can drive the victim to madness or even death if the spell isn't stopped."
As he spoke of madness, Neville's face paled for a fleeting moment, but he pressed on, answering thoroughly.
Moody was momentarily stunned.
Quickly recovering, he nodded. "Well answered. And…"
He glanced down at the roster, then back up. "You're Longbottom, aren't you? I know you… I'm sorry."
"It's alright, Professor," Neville said with a small smile.
"Yes, Mr. Longbottom is correct," Moody said, lifting the Imperius Curse from the spider. It stood dazed, unsure what to do. "The Cruciatus Curse is an utterly wicked spell. It requires a genuine desire to inflict suffering to cast it successfully—proof the caster isn't acting by mistake."
Moody raised his wand again, aiming at the spider.
"Crucio!"
Instantly, the spider's legs curled tightly against its body.
It writhed, twitching violently, rocking side to side.
The spider made no sound, but everyone was certain that if it had vocal cords, it would be screaming in agony.
Moody didn't lower his wand. The spider trembled harder, convulsing even more violently.
Not a single student laughed. They stared, dumbstruck, at the writhing spider on the lectern, momentarily speechless.
Moody's magical eye studied Neville, surprised to see him watching the spider's torment with an unshaken expression.
This Longbottom kid…
Is he frozen in fear, or…
Noticing Neville's increasingly calm demeanor, Moody lost interest.
He slowly lowered his wand. The spider stopped struggling, lying motionless as if utterly exhausted.
"Excruciating pain, this curse," Moody said quietly. "That's why the Ministry lists it as one of the three Unforgivable Curses—it's simply too cruel."
He looked up at the class. "One last curse. Anyone know what it is?"
His gaze landed on Harry, as if expecting him to answer.
And, indeed, he called on him.
Hermione, who had raised her hand, looked disappointed. She'd wanted to answer.
"Mr. Potter," Moody nodded lightly. "I don't need a roster to pick you out of a crowd."
He made a small joke, but the class's mood was too heavy to respond. Only Ron managed a couple of weak chuckles.
"Well," Moody said again, "the last curse, Potter. What is it?"
"The Killing Curse, Professor," Harry answered evenly. "Avada Kedavra. It's the worst of the Unforgivable Curses, capable of taking a life instantly."
At the mention of the curse, the classroom fell silent, students' faces etched with fear.
"Good. Sit down, Potter," Moody said, nodding. He turned to the class. "It's good that you, at your age, have a healthy fear of such dark curses. But I must remind you—the wizarding world isn't safe. You can't expect life after Hogwarts to be as secure as this castle. I don't want you hesitating over fear of the Killing Curse when facing a dark wizard. My job is to rid you of your fear of these three Unforgivable Curses."
With that, he raised his wand.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A blinding green light seared the room, accompanied by a chaotic whooshing sound, as if an invisible beast were soaring through the air. The spider flipped over, lying belly-up on the desk, unmarked but unmistakably dead.
The classroom fell into utter silence, broken only by the sound of wind flipping pages through an open window and Moody's movements.
"I'm not worried about you lot misusing this curse," Moody's booming voice filled the room. "Avada Kedavra requires immense magical power. You could all point your wands at me and cast it, and I doubt I'd get more than a nosebleed. But that's fine—I'm here to teach you how it's done."
"So, have you learned?" Moody bellowed, startling the class again.
"I have," Harry said, nodding.
Moody's body jolted.
After a week in this school, there's still a student who isn't afraid of me?
His magical eye fixed on Harry, unblinking. "Is that so? Well, go on then—try it. If you manage to cast it properly, I'll give Gryffindor twenty points."
He added, "Come on, point your wand at me—"
Ron and Hermione exchanged bewildered glances.
Professor, are you serious?
They didn't know if Harry had ever cast Avada Kedavra, but they were certain he could.
You're really tempting fate here.
"How about the spider instead, Professor?" Harry asked tentatively.
"No, no!" Moody barked. "Point it at me, boy—you won't kill me. At worst, I'll get a nosebleed."
Draco looked up at this.
He knew Harry was adept at Avada Kedavra—perhaps, in his mind, even more skilled than Voldemort himself.
But Moody…
Draco decided to say nothing, lifting his head with interest to see how Harry would handle this.
People tempt fate all the time, but a professor this eager to court disaster? That's a first.
"I'll stick with the spider, Professor," Harry said. "Just in case. Maybe it's safer to try it on the spider first, don't you think?"
But Moody stubbornly insisted Harry use the Killing Curse on him, with a determination not even eight Thestrals could drag back.
Resigned, Harry raised his wand.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A brilliant green light erupted from the tip of Harry's wand, aimed at the bottle. The classroom seemed to drown in the intense glow. Moody, standing close, swore for a moment he saw his long-dead great-grandmother.
No, something's wrong…
He shook his head, trying to clear his mind.
Then he saw the spider in the bottle, flipped over, motionless.
It hit him—he'd just told Harry to try Avada Kedavra.
A chill of fear crept up his spine.
This… this isn't right.
Merlin's trousers, if that curse had hit me, I'd be done for.
What are kids eating these days?
"You, come with me!" Moody growled. "We're going to the headmaster's office! I need to have a word with Dumbledore about this! Merlin's beard, to think a student like you exists at Hogwarts—I'm genuinely worried…"
He trailed off, but everyone understood his meaning.
"Professor!" Hermione stood, protesting. "Harry's not like that! You shouldn't make such baseless assumptions about him!"
Moody didn't respond, only limped out of the classroom.
At the door, he turned back, jerking his head to signal Harry to follow.
As they walked toward the headmaster's office, Moody's mind raced.
This isn't just any student. I need to come down hard—show him the harsh realities of the wizarding world!
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