iv. unforgivable curses

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The next two days passed without great incident unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. Professor Snape, who seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer, gave Neville detention, and Neville returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads.

"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" said Ron to Harry and Hermione as they watched Matilda teach Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the frog guts from under his fingernails.

"Someone finally suggested he add shampoo into his hygienic routine?" Matilda laughed, thinking how brilliant her joke was.

Neville and Ron offered a laugh as well, and while Ron would be the first to admit that Matilda's answer was better, it was not what he had in mind.

"I know the answer," said Harry, who had also been amused by Matilda's joke. "Moody."

It was common knowledge that Snape really wanted the Dark Arts job, and he had now failed to get it for the fourth year running. Snape had disliked all of their previous Dark Arts teachers, and shown it — but he seemed strangely wary of displaying overt animosity to Mad-Eye Moody.

Matilda had noticed that whenever Moody and Snape were together — at mealtimes, or when they passed in the corridors — Snape would avoid Moody's eye, whether magical or normal.

"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Maybe Moody has something on him," Matilda guessed. "He might know something we don't."

"Perhaps Moody knows something about Professor Snape that no one else does..." 

ϟ

Matilda was not able to be with her fellow Ravenclaws in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Since she had requested to take almost every class that was offered once again this year her schedule had to be a little different than those in her house and year. At the time the fourth-year Ravenclaws would be in Defense Against the Dark Arts, she would be meeting with Professor Trelawney for her one-on-one lesson.

The classroom was practically empty when Matilda arrived. Only two other students, a Gryffindor and Slytherin. They sat on opposite sides of the room and didn't dare to make eye contact. Matilda almost laughed at the unneeded tension the students were putting between themselves.

As usual, Matilda made her way to the front of the classroom and took a seat. She had sat in the middle of the front row so that she would be in direct eyesight of the professor. Tilly immediately began unpacking the materials needed for the class from her bag and neatly laying them on the desk before her. When she finished setting out her things the class had filled a little more. Chatter had started as friends made their way inside the room. The houses began grouping together, as they did in almost every other class. She was still the only person who dared to sit in the front row. Most other students admitted to being too scared because of the scene that happened in the Great Hall the other day.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron had walked into the classroom together. Ron excitedly rushed to the front of the room and took a seat beside Matilda in the first row. He had never been this enthusiastic to be seated in the front of the classroom before. In fact, he would complain about sitting near the front. But today he wore a wide grin and he happily unpacked The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, the book needed for the class.

Harry sat on the other side of Matilda and Hermione took a seat beside him. Being seated in-between herself and Hermione, Matilda thought Harry would be an absolute fool to not pass this class with a perfect score. Though, Tilly wasn't all that ecstatic to be in the middle of Harry and Ron. She predicted many headaches in the future.

"Since when do the two of you choose to sit front and center?" Matilda asked, turning to look at Ron then Harry.

Hermione was expected to sit close to the front. But never in her life would she have guessed that Ron and Harry would willingly sit in the front row of a classroom.

Harry shrugged in response, as did Ron, but his face gave it away. Since the moment Moody had turned Malfoy into the ferret in front of the entire Great Hall, he'd been looking forward to having this class. And the fact that Matilda would be there to argue with Moody made him all the more excited.

The class sat unusually quiet, all of them a little afraid of what Moody has planned. Soon they heard Professor Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.

"You can put those away," he growled, stomping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them."

Matilda furrowed her eyebrows as she followed the rest of the class in returning their books back into their bags. She was already annoyed. A required book that she had to buy and suddenly they aren't using them. Tilly didn't like it.

Ron, on the other hand, couldn't be happier as it seemed from the look on his face. His eyes lit up with excitement and he watched with an eager grin as Moody made his way toward the front of the classroom.

Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray 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 swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.

"Right then," he said, when the last person had 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 Matilda had seen him do so. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he ever did anything as friendly as smile. Ron looked deeply 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 staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore. . . One year, and then back to my quiet retirement."

He gave a harsh laugh and then clapped his gnarled hands together.

"So — straight into 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 till 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 about 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 completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently, Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head.

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

Matilda's hand was in the air before Moody could finish his question and several hands rose tentatively into the air after Matilda's, 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. Matilda felt Ron recoil slightly next to her — Ron hated spiders.

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Imperio!"

The spider leaped from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs 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.

Everyone was laughing — everyone except Matilda, and Moody took notice of that.

"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. Matilda's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she watched Professor Moody. Something about him felt odd to her, despite having known him through her father for many years. She couldn't bring herself to believe that Dumbledore would approve of teaching fourth years illegal, dark curses. She made a mental note to bring this concern up to him during their next tea-time.

"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of 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 Matilda knew he was talking about the days in which Voldemort had been all-powerful. "Some job for 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 real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, and Matilda didn't even blink.

Moody gave her a curious look before he picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

The students were beginning to feel the slightest bit comfortable, at least enough for more hands to be raised. Hermione's hand twitched in the air as she hoped to show off her knowledge, but the hand that surprised Matilda the most was Neville's. Matilda's patience would normally have worn itself thin by now and she would have already yelled out the remaining curses, but Neville's hand intrigued her. She wanted to give him a shot.

"Yes?" said Moody, his magical eye, rolling right over to fix on Neville.

"There's one — the Cruciatus Curse," said Neville in a small but distinct voice.

Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.

"Your name's Longbottom?" he said, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again.

Neville nodded nervously, but Moody made no further inquiries. Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

"The Cruciatus Curse," said Moody. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretense, Ron pushed his chair backward, as far away from Moody's desk as possible.

Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "Crucio!"

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Matilda was sure that if it could have given a voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently —

"That's enough!" Matilda said loudly.

Matilda was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville. His hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified.

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 one was very popular once too."

"Right . . . anyone know any others?"

Matilda looked around. From the looks on the students' faces, she guessed they were all too afraid of what might happen to the last spider. No one wanted to answer. Not even Hermione raised her hand.

"How about you, Winters?" Moody said, looking at her.

"Avada Kedavra," Matilda whispered. "The Killing Curse."

Several people looked uneasily around at her, including Ron.

"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.

"You've made it clear that it's the killing curse, Professor, you don't have to demonstrate."

But Moody did not listen, he raised his wand, and Matilda turned her head, looking away.

"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 students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backward and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him.

Moody swept the dead spider off 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."

Everyone else was looking around at Harry too. He pretended not to be affected, he stared at the blank blackboard as though he'd never seen anything so fascinating before in his life.

Matilda looked over to Harry with sympathetic eyes. She was absolutely shocked. He had just seen the curse that killed his parents in action. What he watched Moody do to the spider was the same thing that Voldemort had done to his parents. She turned back to Moody her eyes now wide. Never would she believe that Dumbledore would agree to this lesson. Not when the two of the curses have had such a traumatic impact on two students in the school. Neville and Harry didn't need to see this. Matilda was livid. She didn't like what was happening one bit. 

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it — you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it."

"Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared, and the whole class jumped again.

Matilda didn't flinch. She looked right at Professor Moody, wearing her most vicious glare. 

"Now. . . those three curses — Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus — are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need to prepare. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills. . . copy this down. . ."

They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang — but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices — "Did you see it twitch?" "— and when he killed it — just like that!"

The class was talking about the lesson, Matilda thought, as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, but she hadn't found it the least bit entertaining – and nor, it seemed had Neville.

"Come with me," said Matilda.

"Matilda, class just let out. We don't need to study," said Ron.

"No," said Matilda curtly, pointing up a side passage. "Neville."

Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

"Hello Neville," said Matilda gently.

Neville looked around.

"Oh hello," he said, his voice much 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 doing all right?" Matilda asked carefully.

Not many people were lucky enough to witness this side of Matilda, the gentler side. She was never this kind and patient to just anyone. Only a few people were exceptions, Neville and Luna were the main two that was able to be on the receiving end of Matilda's kindness. Sometimes, Harry, Hermione, and Ron got to get a glimpse of Matilda's kindness, but it never lasted long. Matilda didn't have a lot of patience to care about being kind to people, especially those whom she didn't care to be kind to. 

"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner — I mean lesson — what's for eating?"

Ron gave a startled look.

"Neville, what — ?"

But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All five of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than they had yet heard.

"It's all right, sonny," he said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on. . . we can have a cup of tea. . ."

Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry.

"You all right, are you, Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry, almost defiantly

Moody's blue eye quivered 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."

Neville gave Matilda a pleading look, knowing if anyone was brave enough to speak up on his behalf that it'd be her. And she did.

"Neville and I actually planned to study," said Matilda quickly.

Moody looked down at Matilda, both eyes. It was clear he was trying to intimidate her into backing down, but she refused to give him the satisfaction.

"It's the first week of classes. What is there to study?"

Neville didn't say anything, so he had no choice but to allow himself to be steered away, one of Moody's gnarled hands on his shoulder.

"What was that about?" said Ron, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.

"I don't like him much," said Matilda. "I don't trust him."

"Matilda, you don't trust anyone," Ron shrugged. 

But Harry listened to Matilda. He felt he had no choice but to be on her side about this because since Matilda had come into his life she has been right about everything. He didn't think it would make much sense for her to start being wrong now. 

"Some lesson, though, eh?" said Ron to Harry as they set off for the Great Hall. "Fred and George were right, weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right —"

"Just shut up, Ron!" snapped Matilda.

She glared at him and his insensitive attitude as she pushed past him to catch up with Harry.

Ron fell suddenly silent at the look on Harry's face and didn't speak again until they reached the Great Hall, when he said he supposed they had better make a start on Professor Trelawney's predictions tonight, since they would take hours.

Hermione did not join in with Harry and Ron's conversation during dinner, but ate furiously fast, and then left for the library, but not before asking Matilda to join her. And having nothing better to do Matilda agreed.

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"I wanted to wait until I finished to show you this," said Hermione, her voice shaking. 

Hermione picked up a box in which the contents rattled when she moved it. Matilda's eyebrows furrowed curiously.

"I suppose you're talking about whatever is in the box," guessed Matilda.

"Funny you guess that," said Hermione, with a smile. She took off the lid and showed Matilda the contents.

Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colors, but all bearing the same letters: S.P.E.W.

"Spew'?" said Matilda, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's it stand for?"

"It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

Hermione's smile filled her face and her eyes beamed. She was so excited to finally be able to show someone what she has been pouring herself into this past week. When she spoke her excitement would get the better of her and she'd lose her breath much more quickly than usual. 

"You came up with this?" 

Matilda couldn't help but to be a little amused, but mostly impressed and proud of her friend. She had never been much of a fan of wizards owning house-elves either. She disliked it so much that she composed an entire lecture when she was only at the age of nine, convincing her father to set his house-elf free. Harper, her older sister, moaned and groaned with annoyance throughout the entire lecture but the argument was so compelling that her father had to listen and set his house-elf, Guppy, free. 

"Yes," said Hermione, a proud look on her face. "I've only just come up with it."

"It's very impressive," said Matilda approvingly. "How many numbers have you got?"

"Well," said Hermione sheepishly. "Two if you join. And four if Harry and Ron join too."

"And I know it may seem embarrassing to walk around with a button saying, spew," added Hermione hastily. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status — but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

Hermione brandished the sheaf of parchment at Matilda.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."

Matilda nodded, telling Hermione to continue.

"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking confidently, she had practiced this a million times so that she would sound professional. "Are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."

"And how do you suppose we do all of this?"

Matilda was not asking for herself. She asked to see if Hermione had an answer. Matilda could have come up with many ways to accomplish this feat, but since this was Hermione's project, she wanted to make sure Hermione knew what she was doing.

"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join — that buys a badge — and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're out Vice President Matilda, and Ron will be our treasurer — I've already got a collecting tin — and Harry can be the secretary."

"Vice President?" Matilda asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I would have made you President, but I did make all of this possible," said Hermione.

She was clearly nervous – she didn't want to upset Matilda, she was relying on her to help get this club on its feet.

"I was only joking," said Matilda, a warm smile playing at her lips.

Hermione's relief became visible as her shoulders dropped and she let out a breath of air.

"So, you'll help?" Hermione asked.

And the answer was easy.

"I would be happy to be a part of helping to free enslaved house-elves, Hermione."

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Matilda followed Hermione back to the Gryffindor Tower. She had come at the request of Hermione. She wanted Matilda there so that she might help convince Harry and Ron to take her idea seriously and convince them to join. Hermione knew that the boys listened to Matilda better than herself. 

When Hermione finished telling the boys what she had already told Matilda, Harry seemed to be more on board with Ron. Ron only seemed to worry about what people might think of him if he wore the badge. Matilda explained to him that other people don't matter. He didn't take to that idea easily though. So, Matilda had to resort to threatening him. She was not about to let him copy no more of her notes if he doesn't agree to help, and this went for both, Ron and Harry.

Suddenly, they were on board.

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the pair of them, and Harry sat, torn between exasperation at Hermione and amusement. The silence was broken, not by Ron, who in any case looked as though he was temporarily dumbstruck, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. Harry looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the windowsill.

"Hedwig!" he shouted, and he launched himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window.

Hedwig flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's homework.

"About time!" said Harry, hurrying after her.

"She's got an answer!" said Ron excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg.

"The answer to what?" Matilda asked.

"My scar," said Harry. "It's been hurting again."

Harry hastily untied it and sat down to read, whereupon Hedwig fluttered onto his knee, hooting softly.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry. Harry read it aloud:

Harry —

I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is

the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me

here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore — they're

saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's

reading the signs, even if no one else is.

I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron and Hermione. Keep

your eyes open, Harry.

Sirius

Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione, who stared back at him.

"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming back?"

"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" said Matilda, looking perplexed. "What is going on?"

"Harry — what's up?" Ron questioned.

For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist, jolting Hedwig out of his lap.

"I shouldn't've told him!" Harry said furiously.

"Harry, what in the world are you on about?" Matilda asked.

"It's made him think he's got to come back!" said Harry, now slamming his fist on the table so that Hedwig landed on the back of Ron's chair, hooting indignantly. "Coming back, because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me! And I haven't got anything for you," Harry snapped at Hedwig, who was clicking her beak expectantly, "you'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food."

Hedwig gave him an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing him around the head with her outstretched wing as she went.

"Harry," Hermione began, in a pacifying sort of voice.

"I'm going to bed," said Harry shortly. "See you in the morning."

Once Harry rounded the corner and was out of earshot Matilda sighed and leaned back against the leather, crimson couch,

"I don't think Hedwig deserves such attitude,"

The three remaining stayed and chatted for a bit longer. Talking about classes. Matilda reading Ron's homework for Professor Trelawney and laughing at how ridiculous it all sounded. Hermione spent a little more time trying to convince Ron to join S.P.E.W but every time she'd start to talk he'd only nod and look at the wall behind her head. Eventually, Matilda caught herself nodding off and decided that it would be best for her to go back to her own Tower and get some sleep. 

Ron quickly stood from the couch, where he sat beside her and offered to walk her out. Matilda agreed and they started for the portrait hole.

"Do make sure that Harry sleeps tonight," 

Once outside of the porthole Matilda turned to Ron, she couldn't help but worry about Harry and his scar. 

Ron promised Matilda that he would keep an eye on Harry and tell her how things went first thing in the morning. 

"And check on Neville as well," she added.

"Oh!" Matilda quickly turned before heading off. "And be sure to check on Neville as well. I think he might need a friend after the day he had."

Ron chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"Well, you're quite the worry-wart tonight, aren't ya?" Ron joked.

Matilda laughed, rolling her eyes.

Matilda rolled her eyes, shoving Ron's shoulder playfully. He stared down at her hand still on his shoulder with an amused grin.

"I'm going to bed, Ronald."

And Matilda removed her hand from Ron's shoulder after saying goodnight to go to her own room. The day had drained Matilda, not only physically but mentally as well. Her brain was tired but for the life of her, it refused to stop turning. It's been bugging her all day. She had a feeling but she couldn't vocalize it. There wasn't a name for the feeling that she felt. If there was she was sure that she'd know what it was. She began telling herself she was only tired – that she needed sleep.

So, once Matilda had made it safely into her room she began to get ready for bed, wasting no time. She brushed her teeth and changed in the girl's bathroom because her roommates were already in bed, and Padma and Cho had already fallen asleep. Luna was the only one awake, reading a book, the cover sparkled with color, unlike Matilda's worn and stained ones. Her long, blonde hair was braided of her shoulder and she lay turned on her side, the end of her wand shone in the dark so that she could see the words on the pages.

Luna closed her book and looked up when Matilda came back into the room, having changed into her favorite pajama set. 

"You seem a bit melancholy," 

said Luna, her voice soft.

Luna's soft voice sounded throughout the room, she watched with a worried expression as Matilda sighed and forced a tight-lipped grin.

"I'm mostly tired," said Matilda

"Then what's the other thing you feel?" Luna questioned.

Normally Matilda would have snapped at the person questioning her. She was in no mood to be talking about her feelings, she never was. But she knew that Luna was only worried about her and wasn't meaning to upset her further. 

"I just," thought Matilda. "I have a feeling."

"What kind of feeling?" Luna asked.

Matilda shrugged as she laid her head down on her soft pillow, already feeling sleep creeping up on her. She turned so that she was laying on her back, her hands resting on her stomach. She thought about what she felt. She didn't know. Nothing about it was something she could explain. She didn't even know if the feeling was bad or good yet. She hated not knowing. Matilda vowed to figure out what it was that was making her so crazy so that she'd never had to feel like she is now again.

"I'm not sure yet," Matilda closed her eyes. "Just a feeling."

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AN:// 

Matilda has a feeling. What could she be feeling?

Also, I cannot wait for the good stuff to start happening. I have so much planned you aren't ready for the twists that are coming.