It was a cold night on the tower. A quick 'incendio' was all that was needed to keep Barty warm. Well – 'Moody' for now. He grimaced; the effects of polyjuice were never comfortable, even if one repeatedly drank it. 'Moody' sighed and looked out over the grounds below. Unfortunate as it was, Barty had to act like a cantankerous old fool in order to further his master plans. When he had first joined the death eater ranks, he swore to do whatever it took to appease his master. He hadn't realised he would have to teach mewling brats all day! His skills would be put to better use by cursing them all to hell and back. A grin was quickly stifled – such an act was so out of place on 'Moody' any first year from Hufflepuff would know something was off. Hell, he was almost convinced that some of the older Ravenclaw students knew he wasn't quite the same as Alastor. This time the grin stayed on his face. The ability to scare the kids stiff almost made up for the blasted potion.
Almost.
'Moody' shuddered and took a swig from his flask, his eye roaming around the room. The charmed eye certainly came in handy every now and then, even if it took some getting used to. Barty was even considering gouging out his own eye to get one of these… his master would be pleased at how useful it would be. Then, he would be known as the Dark Lord's most trusted – better then that foolish spy, more feared than Lestrange herself! That is, if everything goes according to plan in the next few months. 'Moody' scoffed. It was all going swimmingly – why would the Potter brat suspect him at this point? His master had instructed him to get the boy to the final task alive and trusting – he could do what he wanted to the other idiots.
Cursing the Malfoy boy was fun. He'd have to thank Potter for giving him the opportunity – Malfoy senior had always been a git to him back at school, so it was nice to get some revenge in a twisted sense.
'Moody' took another swig of his potion and scowled. The night was only getting colder and the old coot had instructed all staff on duty not to cast charms in case it 'caused suspicions'. Barty snorted. The man just liked to see people suffer, behind those twinkling eyes of his was a real sadist. Takes one to know one, after all.
'Or am I just imagining things?' 'Moody' mused, recollecting how he was convinced Gilderoy Lockhart was a serial killer after reading Magical Me for the first time. It had turned out he wasn't a serial killer, but an absolute nutter.
'Wasn't far off then' Barty muttered out loud. His breath came out in little clouds. His scowl deepened. If he wasn't trying to maintain a cover, he would have cursed the old bat months ago, and controlled him that way. 'Moody' stopped.
'S'not a bad idea, actually… I should contact my master and ask his opinion…' Barty thought, his mind already working out a plan to implement this course. He grinned. If his master agreed, which he would the plan was foolproof, then he would be favoured over the rest forever! 'Moody' took another swig, but this time smiled as the potion made its way down his throat. This had the potential to be a good Yule indeed.