??smut in this chapter and others after it??

The next two days passed without great incident, unless you counted my wet dream about Fred, which left me feeling quite strange and tingly every time I looked at him, and Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. 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 barrelful of horned toads. 

"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" Ron said to Harry and I in the Gryffindor common room, as we watched Hermione teaching Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the toad guts from under his fingernails.

"Yeah." Harry said. "Moody." 

Snape did seem to act rather strange around Moody. Whenever I saw the two of them together - at mealtimes or when they passed in the corridors - I had the distinct impression that Snape was avoiding Moody's eye, whether magical or normal.

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

"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad." Ron said, his eyes misting over. "And bounced him all around his dungeon..."

Us Gryffindor fourth-years were looking forward to Moody's first lesson so much that we arrived early after lunch on Thursday - the only time the Gryffindor section of our class had ever turned up first or even early - and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung, messing around and snickering. 

"You can put those away." Moody growled when the class hurried in with all our books when the bell rang. "You won't be needing them."

We returned our books to our bags excitedly.

Moody took out a 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 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." Moody said. "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?" Terry blurted out. 

"Yeah, I'm staying just the one year." Moody replied. "Special favour to Dumbledore... one year, and then  back to my quiet retirement."

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

"So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic -" "Stuff the Ministry, lmao -" "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 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, Mr Boot, when I'm talking."

Terry sighed and tucked his paper airplane into his bag.

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

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Terry's and Hermione's. Moody pointed at Terry.

"The Imperius Curse." Terry said confidently, swinging back in his chair.

"Ah, yes." Moody said appreciatively. "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 smirked as Ron recoiled slightly.

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders and held it in the palm of his hand so that 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 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 except Moody - and me. I didn't know what was up with me; I was usually the loudest laugh in a crowd of laughter, but all that was going through my head was Riddle trying to force me to say 'no'.

"Think it's funny, do you?" Moody growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away almost instantly. 

"Total control." Moody said 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...

"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 everyone 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, to my slight surprise, did Floppy's. He was quieter than usual this week in class, usually only sitting at the back and smirking creepily at me. 

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

"The Cruciatus Curse." Floppy said in a smug, drawling voice, turning his head slowly to smirk at me.

Turning back to the class at large, Moody 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." Moody said. "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 pretence, Ron pushed his chair backwards, 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 I was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. 

I swallowed hard. I stared intently at the spider, images flying through my head of Floppy pointing his wand into my neck and laughing menacingly down at me as I screamed, of Floppy and the three douchebags watching me convulse in a empty classroom while I fought my restraints, of Riddle torturing me in the graveyard while I feared for my life, as I crouched, tears pouring down my face, in my boyfriend's drawing room -

The spider started to shudder and jerk more violently -

"Stop it!" Terry and Harry's voices reached my ears through my semi-daze. 

I looked around at them. They were looking, not at the spider, but at me. I looked down to see my hands clenched upon the desk in front of me, my knuckles white. I caught my reflection in the window beside me, and saw that my eyes were wide and horrified.

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

"Reducio." He muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.

"Pain." Moody said softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse... 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. Draco's hand shook slightly as he raised it into the air.

"Yes?" Moody said, looking at him.

"Avada Kedavra." Draco said quietly.

Several people looked uneasily around at him, including me. He gazed at me, biting his lip nervously.

"Ah." Moody said, a slight smile twisting his lop-sided mouth. "Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra... the killing curse."

I hurriedly blocked everything out, dropping my head onto my folded arms on the desk, just making it look as if I was bored and taking a nap on my desk, which considering the kind of class we were in, was more obviously fake than Donald Trump's tan.

The next thing I was aware of was Moody roaring, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" at the class for the second time, and the whole class jumped again.

As soon as the bell rang, I shot out of the room, heading for an empty side passage where no one would be likely to find me. I tried to compose myself, breathing in and out, in and out. My heart was racing, and I tried to push the memories of Floppy and Riddle torturing and trying to kill me out of my head.

"Potter?" Pansy Pratinson was standing at the end of the passage. Her usually nasty expression was gone, and it was replaced with soft concern. 

I dropped my head again, letting my hair fall back over my face. "Here to pick on - pick on -"

I couldn't continue, I was choking on my words. 

Pratinson was by my side suddenly, a gentle hand resting on my shoulder. The light weight felt nice, and I felt a warm rush go through me. I looked up at her, and she gave me a small smile.

The sound of people laughing came up the corridor towards us. Pratinson quickly shoved me up against the wall as if she was fighting me or something. She put her suddenly angry face right in front of mine, and whispered, "Sorry..."

"Get her, Pansy!" A bunch of Slytherin girls laughed as they wandered past. 

I tried not to feel her body pressing up against mine, or her hot breath fanning across my face, or her hands holding me up. I'm supposed to HATE her, damnit!

"Just..." Pratinson said quietly, looking down shyly. "I know how it feels. Y'know, to know how something feels in a room of people who don't have a clue."

Then, suddenly, I was released and on my feet again, swaying. Pratinson had vanished down the passage, and I shook my head, trying to clear my mind of the strange questioning thoughts whirling around it. 

I was alone in my dorm, getting changed into my pajamas. I was in my underwear, bending over to snatch my bottoms from under my bed. I heard the door closing quietly, and I whipped around cautiously. 

Fred was leaning against the door casually, his arms folded and a smirk blossoming on his face. I felt my cheeks burn as his eyes trailed all over my half-naked body, lingering at my chest and ass. 

"Bro, I'm g-getting changed." I stammered, stepping backwards.

"Don't 'bro' me, Softpaw..." Fred said in his wicked, mischievous voice, stepping slowly forwards. He advanced towards me, reaching out and grabbing onto my sides gently. I shivered as his touch sent sparks shooting down my spine, and his fingers started tracing circles onto my ticklish skin. My eyes fluttered shut, and suddenly warm, soft lips were on mine. 

First, I was hesitant, then I grabbed onto the front of Fred's robes and fell onto his bed behind me, dragging him on top of me. He tore off his school robes, dumping them on the ground next to mine, and kicked off his shoes. Only his underwear remained, and I moaned as Fred slipped his tongue into my mouth and moved his hands up. 

My hands reached up and tentatively touched Fred's chest, tracing the defined muscles from all those years of Quidditch. I moved my legs apart, and my best friend settled in between them. His hands reached my bra, and they landed on each boob, squeezing them lightly. I moaned breathily again, wrapping my legs around Fred's waist and squeezing, hard. 

Soon, Fred's tongue swirling around mine and rubbing against the roof of my mouth wasn't enough, and he bent down further to press his face into my neck, his longer-than-last-year, soft, red hair tickling my chin. He sucked and licked at my neck, and I gasped below him, clutching at his skin. He grinded his crotch into mine, and a burst of pleasure burned in my core. I moaned loudly, throwing my head back. 

Fred's fingers entered my knickers, entered me; I arched my back as his fingers slid deep into me and made me feel oh so good. Electricity was sparking in my lower region and as Fred bit my neck, I dripped wetness all over his hand. I was reaching down blindly, trying to find Fred's underwear; I struggled to pull down the band, shoving my hand in and grasping at his crotch; but he moved down my body, removing his fingers from my wet heat. He stopped with his face in between my legs, and pulled down my knickers with his teeth, sticking his face into my crotch, and I felt a huge lick up my core and a huge explosion of pleasure as Fred's tongue worked its way into me; I was moaning out his name, clutching his hair, forcing his face into me - arching my back - clenching my eyes shut - coming all over his face - 

"Fred! Oooh, Fred... Uuuhhh... Faster, please - uhhh, harder..." I woke up with a start, and immediately went red. 

Oh. My. Godric.

I had just had yet ANOTHER wet dream about my best friend and fellow pranking buddy Fred Weasley!

I scrambled out of bed and made to pull off my soaking panties when I noticed Fred and George chilling on George's bed, smirking over at me.

"Wet dream, Softpaw?" Fred said.

"Was Red good?" George snickered.

I had sneaked back up to my dorm after Moody's class to have some alone time, but I must've fallen asleep at some point. 

"Uh, Fred, oh Fred, do me!" George mocked in a high-pitched voice, smirking. "Oh faster Fred, fuck me harder!"

"Shut the fuck up, ginger." I threw my pillow at my other best friend, and we all sniggered, me with a hint of embarrassment still in the back of my mind. 

"I'll go get the parchment." George told Fred, and left the dorm. I looked, confused, after him, but suddenly Fred was beside me.

"Can I see your wings again, Softpaw?" He said innocently.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What the hell are you planning?"

"Come on." Fred said, reaching behind me with an evil glint in his eyes. I made to shy away but his hand made contact with my back, and I arched it, moaning. He rubbed my back vigorously, and soon my smaller wings were bursting out, showering us with feathers. Fred threaded his fingers through my feathers, and I fell forward onto my bed, face first, with a surrendering, breathy moan. 

"Why does touching your wings have this kind of effect on you, Softpaw?" Fred wondered, his smirk evident in his voice. I couldn't answer him for the moans and whimpers falling out of my mouth. 

But what surprised me was what happened when my idiotic pransker best friend drew his hands away, laughing, saying, "Get pranked, bro!".

I whimpered at him, without even thinking about it, "Don't stop." 

And, with only a slight hesitation, Fred placed his hands right back in my feathers.