Chapter Thirty Three

Alastor's Moodiness

0o0

By the time the train had reached the station, the rolling mists and light showers of the day had turned into an all out storm. Lightning forked the sky as they hustled toward the carriages. Astoria used Daphne's magazine as a makeshift umbrella, dancing around the puddles on the station's cobblestone floor.

After much jostling, Theo, Tracey and Astoria managed to get a carriage together. It was a bumpy, damp ride up the drive and by the time they had passed the gates topped with winged boards, Theodore was complaining loudly.

"At least we didn't have to cross the lake," said Tracey, stumbling into the entrance hall and shaking rain off her cloak. "Ooh," she murmured. "Look at Blaise!"

Rain drenched and surly, Astoria could not quite understand what it was about Blaise that Tracey thought merited pointing attention to.

"He looks like a wet cat," muttered Theo in annoyance, pulling his frayed scarf away from his mouth.

"He looks like a perfume model," said Tracey mistily.

Astoria thought Blaise looked closer to a cross between the two, but before she could respond, Ron Weasley let loose a surprised yell.

"OY!" Ron hollered, ducking next to a suit of armor because he had just been pelted with a mysterious water balloon.

Astoria's eyes went toward the ceiling, where they spied Peeves, hovering in a corner and cradling an armful of bright red water balloons. Peeves threw another balloon, this time at Harry Potter. Harry stepped back in time to avoid the majority of the spray, but several Third Years squealed.

"PEEVES!" thundered Professor Mcgonagall threateningly, summoned by the sound of shouting near the entryway.

"Come on," said Theodore, tugging on Astoria's arm to pull her in the direction of the Great Hall.

Draco was laughing maliciously at Ron, who was doing a forced jig to avoid being pelted a second time, so Astoria took great care to avoid his line of sight as they wove through the crowd.

A wave of heat and a cloud of seasoned cooking smells wafted over Astoria as they passed through the doors into the hall. She shivered gratefully in her damp school uniform and pushed her drenched hair away form her face.

Theo and Tracey made for the Slytherin table, so Astoria set off in search of Fred and George. She found them sitting with their friend Lee Jordan, both looking decidedly more freckled than the last time she had seem them.

"Astoria!" called Fred enthusiastically, scooting over to make more room.

It had been a long time since Astoria had been able to leisurely converse with either of the twins. When Fred and George proceeded to talk merrily all through the sorting, stopping only to clap politely when new Gryffindors were sent toward their table, Astoria did nothing to interrupt them.

"Of course, we looked for you in the woods," said George, as the discussion turned to the World Cup. "There were an awful lot of people running around, though. it was impossible to find anyone. We all got separated. Blimey, Ron and Harry reckon they actually heard whoever it was that cast the Dark Mark! Harry swears it was a man's voice, not an elf's. You heard that story about Crouch's house elf?"

"They were that close?" asked Astoria quietly, considering this. "Harry's really lucky that the man who sent up the mark didn't recognize him. Whoever did it was probably rogue. I bet they would have killed Harry, if they knew they had the chance."

"I know," agreed Fred in an equally grim tone. "Trouble always finds our Harry, doesn't it?"

Fred paused to clap for Dennis Creevey as he became a new Gryffindor.

"What do you reckon that kid is Colin Creevey's little brother?" asked George, pointing at the narrow faced newcomer and smirking.

"Anyway," said Fred, turning his attention back to Astoria while Laura Madley was sorted into Hufflepuff, "we cursed a muggle this summer."

"You what?" Astoria spluttered, unsure whether to laugh or gape.

"Yeah," said Fred proudly, his eyes going brightening with fondness at the memory. "Harry's cousin, Dudley. His tongue swelled up to the size of armchair. Dud's about the size of a whale anyway, mind you, but it was still quite a feat."

"Ton-Tongue Toffee," explained George enthusiastically. "We're marketing it this year. That's not all we've been working on either."

"There's the Canary Creams as well," Fred added. "They'll turn you into a bird for about a minute. The molting is a bit wonky at the end though..."

The best bit of business was yet to come, however. When Dumbledore got to his feet and began the start of the year notices, Astoria turned halfway in her seat to watch, waiting for him to announce the Triwizard Tournament.

"Let me introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," said Professor Dumbledore, sweeping a hand toward his rain-soaked companion. "Professor Moody!"

There were a few half- hearted claps, but mostly, it was a scattering of chatter that went up and down the hall in leu of applause. Astoria's attention was no longer on Canary Creams or the Tournament as she turned to take in the sight of the heavily scarred and gristly looking man seated on Dumbledore's left.

"Mad-Eye Moody?" wondered George. "Is he serious?"

Astoria was wondering the same thing, although perhaps for rather different reasons. At that moment, a great clap of thunder accompanied by bolt of forked lighting lit up the enchanted ceiling, throwing Alastor Moody's face into greater and even more frightening relief.

Astoria had heard Moody's name mentioned a few times before; certainly often enough to know that Moody was considered something of a paranoid joke these days, which was surely what had caught George's attention. Astoria however, also knew that Moody had been one of the top Aurors during the war and that he had been responsible for rounding up many Death Eaters after the fall of the Dark Lord.

Moody might be skittish but Astoria was not fool enough to assume that this also meant he was foolish. Indeed, there was a keenness about Moody's face that left Astoria with little doubt that he was a rather clever man. Astoria's sudden discomfort about having a teacher who might have been present at her mothers criminal trial knew no bounds. She turned her eyes back toward Dumbledore, itching with the desire to be distracted.

When the moment came, even knowing that the announcement for the Triwizard Tournament was coming could not prepare Astoria for the outcry of loud excitement around her.

"You're JOKING!" cried Fred so earnestly that he earned a response from the headmaster himself.

"I am not joking Mr. Weasley," answered Dumbledore smoothly. "The heads of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will be arriving with their shortlisted contenders in October and the champions themselves will be selected on Halloween."

"I'm entering!" declared George adamantly, rapping his knuckles against he table top as though he meant business. "Glory and a thousand Galleons prize money? Think of what we could do with a thousand galleons!"

"We could fund research," whispered Fred excitedly.

"We could start a mail order business!" insisted George.

"-have agreed to impose an age restriction this year," Dumbledore went on. "Only students who are of age- that is to say, seventeen years of age or older-"

"No!" cried George furiously, his mouth dropping open as his heart's desire was ripped away from him. "No!"

"You're not seventeen?" Astoria guessed.

"Not until April!" said Fred resentfully.

"They're not going to stop me from entering," George vowed. "Where there is a will, there is a way!"

The table was clearing of the last remaining remnants of dessert and students were standing up all over the hall, making their way toward the doors.

"Hang on," said Astoria, nimbly snagging the very last lemon tartlet before it vanished from its golden platter. "Are you only mad that you can't compete because of the prize?"

"Well, that's part of it," insisted George stubbornly. "That and the fact that we're almost of age, anyway! What a crock of-"

"Listen," said Astoria quietly as they reached the marble staircase, checking to see who else was listening because a brilliant, yet faintly incriminating idea had just occurred to her her, "there might be more than one way to earn that thousand galleons."

"What d'you mean?" snapped Fred sarcastically. "You think we can sell two thousand Canary Creams to the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang?"

"No," said Astoria, looking for any Slytherins who might have lingered after dinner, and dropping her voice still lower. "I think we could do what we always do..."

"Oh," said George, catching on. "You mean take bets. On the Tournament, that is?"

Fred and George exchanged looks.

"I don't know," said Fred, staring at George almost guiltily.

"Yeah," agreed George, rubbing his neck and refusing to meet Astoria's eye.

"Why not?" asked Astoria, thoroughly surprised by this most uncharacteristic reluctance. "This is a high stakes event with tons of publicity. The Triwizard Tournament is famous. It's not just students paying attention. There might be some real money in this."

"It would be easier just to enter the damn thing," muttered Fred resentfully.

"Maybe," said Astoria doubtfully, more certain than ever that she was onto something. "You two are looking at this the wrong way. If we were really careful, we could make loads more than a thousand galleons gambling."

There was an awkward pause, during which neither twin responded.

"We'll see," said George evasively.

0o0

By the next morning, the sky was a cold, pewter grey. It was no longer raining and the enchanted ceiling in the great hall was flat and dull from end to end. Astoria breezed by the Gryffindor table just long enough to pick up her new course schedule, and by the time she was headed back across the hall, Theodore had come in for breakfast.

"What does your morning look like?" asked Astoria, stealing a croissant from the bread basket. "Mine is all outside. Herbology and then Care of Magical Creatures."

"I nearly dropped out of that class this summer," said Theo, pouring himself coffee. "I've got Charms first, otherwise mine is the same. Oh look, we both have double Arithmancy this afternoon. That's not bad."

The mail arrived overhead in a clamorous swirl of feathers. Astoria watched the post owls swooping down at left and right, idly. She was just about to turn back to her breakfast when a large black bird landed on her plate, crushing her pastry before sticking out its leg importantly.

"Who's that from?" asked Theodore nosily, trying to read the address on the envelope. "What does your aunt want with you so soon?"

"It's from Maudlin," sighed Astoria, reading the contents of the letter. "He's been shortlisted as a potential champion."

"Happy day," muttered Theo grimly.

"That's that, then," said Astoria, dropping the note and taking up her croissant before remembering that the black owl had stepped on it and dropping it again. "He'll really be coming to Hogwarts in a month. There's no way out now."

"I can't see what everyone is getting so excited about," muttered Theodore frustratedly. "There's enough people around without inviting more! It all just sounds like drama to me."

Astoria did not see Theodore again until her Herbology class was over. After a lengthy first lesson on how to squeeze the pus out of Bubotubers, Astoria dallied for far too long by the tap, compulsively washing herself and she was already late by the time she spotted Hagrid's cabin at the bottom of the sloping hill.

Astoria was the last to arrive, and she had missed much of Hagrid's introduction but the Slytherins had already made the decision to fall away from the open crates on the grass, so Astoria peered into one nervously.

"What are those?" Astoria asked, tapping Tracey on the shoulder and pointing toward the ominous looking boxes.

"Shhh," hissed Pansy from the row ahead of them.

Astoria was certain that Pansy could care less what Hagrid had to say and was just looking for a chance to be rude, but she held her tongue. The sight of Daphne's messy braid, which sticking out between the coils of her scarf like a feeble tail, served as a reminder not to pick any fights.

"He's calling them Skrewts," whispered Tracey slyly. "I think Hagrid might have bred them."

Astoria tried not to laugh at this rather intimidating prospect, because nobody else standing nearby seemed to think the matter was at all funny.

"They've got suckers and stings and some of them blast fire," said Tracey quietly, her grin betraying the fact that she too found the lesson amusing. "Malfoy asked what the point of them was and Hagrid got all flustered and said, "thas' next lesson'."

Astoria broke into a fit of silent laughter.

"Granger thinks they'll be as magical as dragons," continued Tracey sagely, grinning irresistibly.

"Is that all?" asked Astoria, turning her head into Tracey's sweater to laugh when Pansy shushed them again.

After Lunch, Astoria met Theo and Tracey in the entrance hall and they all began the long trek up to the seventh floor Arithmancy classroom together.

"Blast-Ended mutants, they are!" said Theo, huffing and puffing up the steps. "Shell-less monsters! One of us should do the school a service and go down there some night to smash them while they're sleeping."

They had reached the top of the stairs, where a small queue of students had gathered in the usual spot, waiting to be let in.

"How would you even know if they were asleep?" Astoria pointed out. "They haven't got eyes."

Malfoy was standing several feet away, lost as he always was before Arithmancy because neither Crabbe nor Goyle was smart enough to take the class with him. When he spotted their heads, he immediately moved away from the wall toward them.

"Alright, Malfoy," said Theo gravely, "which one of us is going to sneak down to Hagrid's cabin and crush those Blast-Ended beasts before they're big enough to set the class on fire? Does Montague take Care of Magical Creatures? He's violent, isn't he? I reckon he'd do it."

"Who cares," drawled Draco at once, distractedly. His eyes sparkled maliciously as he withdrew a newspaper clipping from his pocket. "Look at this!"

Astoria bent closer so that she could read the newsprint. The article was entitled 'Further Mistakes At The Ministry of Magic'. After the second paragraph, Astoria had had enough.

"...by the antics of Arnold Weasley of the misuse of Muggle Artifacts office," read Theodore out loud, taking hold of the paper so that he could read further, because it was angled so that only Astoria could read it without having to tilt her head.

"That's not even his name, is it?" insisted Draco gleefully. "It's Arthur Weasley, not Arnold. How pathetic do you have to be in order to be a Ministry Official and still have the paper get your name wrong?"

"They've mentioned the flying car!" said Tracey, jabbing at the Prophet and laughing out loud.

"Look at the picture!" Malfoy drawled, flipping the paper around and holding it up. "Look, they're in front of the Weasley's house- can you believe that dump!"

"There are chickens in the background," said Theo, smirking repressively. "Actual chickens."

"So what if they have chickens?" asked Astoria snappishly. "This article is trash."

"Well, yeah," said Theodore, taking the paper from Draco, "but it's funny trash."

"Hagrid wasn't enough?" demanded Malfoy resentfully, taken aback by Astoria's attitude. "Are you forming a support group for Weasley now, too?"

"No," said Astoria stiffly, entirely done with the article and its accompanying photo.

"It's not Ron she's in a huff for," said Tracey keenly "She pals around with those twins, remember? Pass it here, I want to see the picture."

"Oh yeah," said Draco slowly, his annoyance receding slightly as he realized that it was not a new alliance with Ron and Harry that was causing Astoria to champion his family. "Well, it's not my fault that they have a pork pie for a mother. I didn't print the photo, you know."

The doors to the classroom opened, saving Astoria from having to smother a retort.

"That's an interesting bit about Moody though, isn't it?" said Theo, peering at the article that Tracey was still goggling at.

"What did it say about Moody?" asked Astoria, suddenly alert. "I didn't read that far."

"He got into about fight with some muggle law enforcement," said Theo. "Something about enchanting dustbins."

Draco laughed, watching closely as Astoria took the article from Tracey and finally read it through to the end.

"I don't know about Moody," said Astoria at last, giving voice to an inner anxiety that ought to remain suppressed.

"That's because he's an absolute nutcase," agreed Draco scornfully. "I swear, Dumbledore's new staffing arrangements get worse and worse every year."

"I don't see what's so wrong with Moody," said Tracey. "He sounds like a paranoid laugh. I bet he's a riot."

Astoria however, who had at least one relative that Moody had probably had a hand in locking away, was not very inclined to think of Mad-Eye Moody as a funny joke.

In fact, if Moody's paranoia about Death Eaters was any kind of a clue as to how he might react to his students, Astoria had a funny feeling that Moody might not like her at all. Something about the looks on both Theo and Draco's faces told her they seemed to share some of Astoria's mistrust.

"I dunno," said Astoria, pulling out her textbook and a few spare bits of parchment, prepared to let the conversation die.

It was not as though Astoria could blame Moody or the rest of the ministry for arresting her mother and uncles, but something about the connection made Astoria feel sad and oddly defensive.

"Astoria, can I borrow your dictionary?" asked Tracey.

"I've left mine," said Astoria, checking her bag.

Tracey got up from her seat and moved down the row toward the shelf of spare texts.

"They say Moody's still got a real vendetta against anyone he thinks was a Death Eater. Especially the ones who got away," said Theodore. "Do you think he'll extend that toward their kids?"

"How can he?" drawled Malfoy smugly. "Half of the Death Eaters who avoided Azkaban are the people who write his lousy paychecks now. It's not as though Moody can do anything about it."

"Maybe he'll like me just fine, then," said Astoria tensely.

"Because your family was so blameless?" insisted Draco stubbornly.

"Because there are no free Death Eaters in my family, are there?" asked Astoria stonily. "He arrested them all."

Theo stared at her quietly.

"Wait," said Draco, a hint of morbid fascination coloring his voice, which was far too loud for Astoria's approval, "are you saying it was Moody who-"

"I don't know," said Astoria tensely, beginning to wish that she had not spoken at all. "Probably. There were only five real Aurors left at the end of the war. Moody sent more people to Azkaban than anyone else. I've got a mother and two uncles. You do the math."

Draco made an odd noise somewhere between a snort and a 'huh' and continued to stare at her calculatingly.

Theodore, perhaps startled by the mention of Astoria's mother out loud, had frozen. Malfoy already knew this secret however, and Astoria was in no mood to be particularly subtle.

Wishing to cover the moment, Astoria forced herself to crack a sly grin. "I'll give ten Galleons to anyone brave enough to ask Moody."

"Nobody needs ten galleons that badly," said Theo grimly, perhaps thinking of Moody's scarred and misshapen face as he had seen it the night before, lit up by lightning.

Draco stretched back in his chair almost cockily, taking up as much room as he could and scoffed again. His eyes darted back toward Astoria. "You're probably right. Even if he is old and senile, Moody is a problem."

This wasn't quite what Astoria had said, but even as Draco spoke, Astoria realized that it was precisely what she had meant.

Astoria opened her mouth to argue, angry with herself for her own instinctual prejudice but Tracey had returned with the dictionary and Professor Vector had appeared.

Astoria flipped over a piece of parchment, feeling confused and trapped inside of her own thoughts. Draco and Theo continued to murmur together until Vector rapped his wand on the blackboard to call them to attention.

Draco leaned forward to snag his quill off the desk and Astoria caught the faint, familiar scent of his shirt. A pervading awareness suddenly caused Astoria to freeze as it occurred to her, for perhaps the first time, that she genuinely liked the way Draco smelled.

Unlike Draco's face, which was almost always fixed into a look of smugness or disgust, the clean and decidedly masculine scent of his clothing was almost instinctually comforting to her as opposed to off-putting.

Prickling at this uncomfortable new observation, Astoria peered sideways at Draco's face, which appeared lazy and only half interested in the lesson. She watched him for a moment, wondering if he would laugh if he knew what Astoria was thinking, or be secretly gratified by it.

If Astoria was being totally honest with herself, she did not really think that Draco would find any urge on her part to be closer to his body particularly funny.

The more she thought about it, the more it occurred to Astoria that, if she wanted to inch toward Draco and lean into his bubble of mistrust and hatred for the people who had stood against the Dark Lord at the height of his power, she was certain Draco would readily let her. If Astoria was prepared to resent Moody for arresting her mother, Malfoy was clearly prepared to join her. If Astoria wanted to hear Moody abused and belittled, she was certain Malfoy was more than up to the task of bringing that about for her.

Nothing could have made Astoria want to spare Moody her resentment more thoroughly than this however, because Astoria did not particularly want to play for Draco's family team this way, nor did she want him to think that she did.

After all, Astoria herself had never committed any sort of hate crime in her life, nor did she plan on doing so. Alastor Moody had done her no wrong. He had simply been acting the way any good person would act when he had arrested Lucrezia Lestrange and it would do Astoria well to remember that.

Dizzied by her emotional turn around, Astoria silently vowed to herself not to be hasty in judging Moody and to hold back when it came to speaking about him. Astoria was just going to have to force herself to give the man a chance.

Professor Vector let them out for dinner early without assigning any homework. Astoria packed her bag and avoided Draco, who seemed keen to continue the discussion about Moody, speeding up to walk with Tracey instead. To Astoria's surprise, Theodore lingered behind with Draco.

"Blaise sat next to me at lunch today," said Tracey in a tone of hushed delight. "He wanted to know all about my summer."

"Hmm," said Astoria, half spying on Theodore and Draco and half listening to Tracey. Astoria had not forgotten the way that Blaise had spoken to Astoria at the end of the last term and truthfully, she was no closer to liking Blaise than she had been. The fact that Astoria had not seen him in several months did very little to soften her dislike.

"I didn't even have to find him, he just came and sat with me," said Tracey. "Do you think he thought about me over break?"

"Probably," said Astoria absently. "Blaise seems like the type of creepy bloke that probably spends all of his free time analyzing his friends, searching for weaknesses."

They had reached the entrance hall but they were early and the doors to the Great Hall had not yet been opened.

"You're crazy," said Tracey roughly. "Blaise isn't like that. He's observant but he's not diabolical."

Astoria snorted, watching out of the corner of her eye as Malfoy produced the newspaper article about Arthur Weasley and showed it to Pansy and Flora as they came down from Divination.

"What are you looking at?" asked Tracey sharply, following Astoria's eyes toward Pansy and the newspaper. "Are you really going to get all bent out of shape about this Weasley thing?" she snapped. "I don't think I can take another year of you trying to defend lost causes against Malfoy."

"Huh?" asked Astoria distractedly, trying to understand how the Weasleys had come back into the conversation.

"The article," said Tracey waspishly, perhaps a little angry that Astoria had not been very keen to listen to her talk about Blaise. "You know Draco is going to spend a good week laughing about it. Am I really going to have to watch you get all defensive every time he brings it up? It's so boring watching the two of you fight- I swear, you only do it to see him get bent out of shape."

"What are you talking about?" Astoria frowned, feeling slightly accused of a crime she had not committed. "I don't like bending people out of shape."

"Yeah?" said Tracey snidely. "Malfoy gets mauled by a hippogriff, and the second his father tries to take the matter in front of the school board you're all 'save the bird!' You might as well have just told Malfoy that you were disappointed when he didn't die."

"That was different!" Astoria insisted. "Draco was only doing that to get back at Hagrid for being nice to Harry! The whole thing was ridiculous."

Pansy was laughing sycophantically across the hall, pointing out sentences in the Daily Prophet article and then repeating them shrilly in a very carrying voice. Astoria looked away, finding something about the sight to be particularly irritating.

Tracey's eyes narrowed, focusing on Astoria intently.

"What?" snapped Astoria.

"Nothing," said Tracey evenly. "I just don't understand what you're mad about."

"I'm not mad," Astoria insisted. "I'm just hungry. Tell me about Blaise. I'm sorry, I wasn't listening."

Tracey had only just taken up where she had left off when she was interrupted for a second time.

BANG!

Astoria physically jumped. Tracey flinched so hard that she dropped the book she was holding and brought an arm up to instinctually block her face. The sound had come from the other side of the hall, and they both turned around anxiously to look.

Draco and Harry both had their wands aloft. If Astoria had to guess what had happened, she would have put her money on a scenario involving Draco trying to curse Harry while his back was turned. Hermione was pulling hard on Harry's sleeve and Harry was fighting awkwardly to turn back.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!" bellowed Moody, barreling down the stairs, dragging is lame leg a half-step behind him.

There was another loud bang and several people screamed. Astoria stood on her tip-toes, unsure of what she was seeing. The hall suddenly fell silent and began to push away from where Moody was standing.

"What's going on?" Astoria complained, watching as Moody broke away from Harry and staggered toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the place Malfoy had been standing a second before.

There was a terrified shriek that Astoria took for either Flora or Pansy at first, before she spotted a white ferret trembling on the floor, trying to dodge between the feet of the nearest Slytherins and slip away down the passage toward the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" roared Moody. The ferret flew into the air, where it levitated for a millisecond, before Moody gave a quick twitch of his wand and slammed the ferret against the floor with such a forceful impact that it sounded as though someone had been slapped.

"Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..." said Professor Moody roughly as the ferret flailed, its legs and tail flopping listlessly like a rag doll's. Again and again Moody forced the ferret to collide with the flagstone floor, and each time the ferret howled in pain.

"Oh my effing God," said Tracey slowly, her eyes bouncing along with the ferret. "Is that-?"

Astoria could not respond. Her eyes were locked on the scene that was playing out in front of them.

Professor Mcgonagall appeared at the bottom of the staircase and seemed to gain the measure of what was going on quickly enough, because she dropped her books the same way Tracey had and attempted to force herself in front of Moody, who was continuing to bouncing the sobbing ferret, unfazed.

Astoria grabbed Tracey's shirt sleeve and pulled her forward through the crowd so that they could see properly.

"No!" cried Professor Mcgonagall, remembering her wand.

Next moment, Draco Malfoy had reappeared in an undignified heap on the floor, his normally sleek blonde hair all over his wincing face, which was as pink as valentine heart.

Tracey clapped a hand over her mouth to hide her shocked grin.

"Nothing like a good sharp shock, is there?" asked Moody carelessly, absolutely unaffected by the unfairness of the injuries he had just inflicted on an underage student.

Grimacing, Draco dragged himself to his feet, obviously determined not to remain on his back in front of a crowd of students. The effort of standing seemed to have cost him something however, and he staggered slightly. Pale eyes watering with pain and humiliation, Draco put his hand against the wall to steady his footing.

"I'll do that, then," said Moody, concluding a conversation he must have been having with Mcgonagall, which Astoria had not been listening to at all.

Draco muttered something that Astoria could not quite hear, but he must have mentioned his father because Moody laughed coldly and said, "Oh yeah? Well, I know your father of old boy. You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son... you tell him that from me. Now, your Head of House will be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," said Malfoy resentfully.

"Another old friend," muttered Moody, seizing Draco's arm in order to march him toward the dungeons.

Draco tried to pull away, repulsed by the contact, but Moody grabbed him harder still before giving him a brisk push toward the top of the dungeon stairway.

The hall remained silent for a long moment before positively exploding.

Tracey swore breathlessly. "See? I told you Moody would be a riot!"

Astoria, however, could not see it this way. Her worst fears confirmed, Astoria tried to catch Theo's eye in the crowd, thinking that he would be a voice of reason but Theodore, for his part, did not seem to be looking for Astoria. Even as Astoria watched, Theo made a beeline for Blaise Zabini, (another unlikely duo) and Astoria knew that he was thinking exactly what she was thinking. Moody, as it transpired, was going to be a problem after all.

0o0

Astoria did not see Theodore again until the next morning, standing in line with Tracy before potions class.

"I still think it was funny," Astoria heard Tracey say in an offhand sort of way as Astoria worked to move around Lavender and Parvati in order to reach them.

"Mental, you mean," said Theo coldly, his eyes darting about the dark passageway, perhaps to check to see if they were being watched. "Moody never would have done that to Potter, you know."

"Of course not," said Tracey. "Then again, who would? He's the boy who lived, isn't he?"

"Because that's fair," snapped Theo.

Astoria had never seen Theodore come to Draco's defense before and she had to marvel at the loyalty that Theodore seemed to have secretly been hiding all along. An actual camaraderie for anyone who would stand with him against the forces that wanted attack his family's cause. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, joined the line as well and Astoria saw Theo nod at Draco to express his solidarity.

"What did your father say, Draco?" asked Theodore, his expression lofty and removed from Tracey.

"He hasn't written yet," said Malfoy resentfully, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his features. "I'll hear from his this afternoon- he's not home."

"I still think you are all too surprised by this," said Tracey. "Everyone knows Moody's touched. You shouldn't have been using spells in the halls."

"So what if I was doing magic in the corridors?" Draco hissed hatefully. "He should have given me detention! Teacher's aren't allowed to torture students! The man should be in Azkaban, where he belongs. He thinks he's such a big man for beating up children, does he? I wonder how long he'd last in prison."

"Well, Astoria thought it was funny," said Tracey easily, "and she's always got a sense of humor."

"No, she didn't," said Theo snottily before Astoria, who had nearly reached them, even had a chance to speak for herself. "Didn't you see the look on her face? She was horrified."

"When was I horrified?" asked Astoria, coming in around Crabbe.

"You didn't think that stunt with Moody was funny?" said Theo confidently. "Did you?"

Astoria's eyes flicked from Tracey, who looked faintly annoyed to Theodore, who looked firm.

"No," said Astoria, silently remembering her vow to give Moody a chance and picking her words carefully, "not funny, no."

"And why would she think it was funny?" sneered Draco, looking very relived, despite his bravado, to learn that Astoria had not laughed at him. "It could be any of you next."

"Why would he turn us into bouncing ferrets?" asked Tracey skeptically, perhaps missing the greater political turn of Moody's behavior. "None of us are going to try to attack Potter while his back is turned. You taught us our lesson, thank you."

Draco rounded on Tracey, eyes flashing malevolently but the line had begun to move forward, robbing Malfoy of the chance to cut Tracey down the several notches that he probably believed she deserved.

Snape was in a particularly foul mood, which Astoria did not find surprising. Snape had never cared for any of their old Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, but this Moody business was something new. Snape might be cranky, but he was also slightly subdued, a trait no other teacher had managed to scare into him before. Astoria, who had come to think of Snape as a strong (if unpleasant) personality over the years, could not help but find this switch in his behavior slightly disheartening.

When Neville caused a diversion by melting his sixth cauldron since First Year, Astoria leaned back in her seat so that she could be heard and whispered to Draco, "What did Moody say to Snape when he took you to him yesterday?"

"Idiot boy!" sneered Snape, charming the mess off of the floor.

Draco's eyes flicked toward Snape, but Snape looked preoccupied enough to merit whispering.

"Threatened him, mostly," said Draco in a low, snide voice. "Snape was furious, of course but what could he do? It's not as though he was going to duel the psychopath. I know for a fact Snape went to the headmaster after I left, though. If Dumbledore won't do something about it, Snape will- he always backs my father."

It was a funny thing, but even after seeing Draco sprawled across the floor and shivering with humiliation and pain, it was rather hard to feel sorry for him when he spoke this way.

Astoria nodded and turned back toward the front of the class, resolved to try and forget about the incident altogether. It was none of her business, after all.

Snape continued to yell and threaten Neville, who had turned very pink and was now trying to pick bits of a glass beaker out of his twisted and gooey cauldron.

Draco had not had his fill of griping it seemed, and now that Astoria had opened the door, he was content to carry on.

"Of course, it'll be hard to get rid of Moody," Draco sneered rapidly. "He's been in legal trouble for years, but nobody else wants Moody's job. Think about it- why else would even Dumbledore have hired him? He couldn't get anybody else."

Astoria bit her lip, beginning to wish that she had not asked about Moody at all or, at the very least, that she had waited until after class. Astoria was afraid of turning Snape's attention toward them, as surely it would be Astoria and not Draco who would be punished for speaking during class.

"You should have heard Moody talking," continued Malfoy, oblivious to the fact that Astoria was no longer responding to him. "He's an absolute lunatic, positive that there are enemies inside the castle walls, looking to murder him in his sleep. It's a wonder the man hasn't drank himself to death by now, considering how paranoid he is. It's not juice in that flask of his, I can tell you that much..."

Astoria imagined Draco was probably right about this, but Snape had nearly finished yelling at Neville and she could sense his attention beginning to shift back toward the rest of the class. Astoria turned in her seat, prepared to tell Malfoy to be quiet before he got her a detention but a faintly lavender storm cloud of a bruise near his jaw distracted her.

"Mark my words," sneered Draco resentfully, "it'll be Potter and Moody in it together now- no doubt Moody thinks he's the next messiah."

Astoria leaned sideways, trying to have a better look at the bruise. The moment Malfoy realized what she was staring at however, he twitched back into his seat reflexively with a look of surprisingly shamefaced anger.

This was most uncharacteristic of Draco, who generally liked to brag about his wounds loudly with an air of great personal suffering. Still, Astoria reflected, this was not a fake injury and Draco had gotten it in front of a crowd while being beaten by a teacher. Perhaps the fact that Moody, who was limp and old, had managed to get the better of him was faintly embarrassing to Draco's sense of manliness.

"Greengrass!" snapped Snape, causing Astoria to nearly slide sideways out of her chair.

Most of the class turned to stare at her, curious as to what she had done wrong. Several tables away, Astoria heard Pansy begin to whisper something to Flora under her breath.

Astoria righted herself and continued brewing in silence.

0o0

If Moody's little escapade in the entrance hall hadn't been enough to mark him as mad and a little dangerous, his first class sealed the deal completely.

"Did you see it twitch?" muttered Parvati after their first defense lesson, shivering slightly.

"I hate spiders!" said Lavender sternly. "I don't know why he couldn't have used something else to demonstrate the curses on!"

"Like what?" muttered Astoria, thinking of the three Unforgivable Curses they had just seen performed and wondering what the school board would have to say when they learned that Moody had performed them in front of students. "Would you rather he had used something cute? The third spell is a killing curse..."

Lavender did not seem to know what to say to this so she sped up, taking Parvati by the hand.

Astoria had seen enough during the lesson to put her off her dinner. Instead of heading down toward the Great Hall, she turned her feet toward Gryffindor tower.

Astoria was glad of this decision the moment she climbed through the portrait hole and spotted Fred and George, sitting together on an Ottoman near the fire. It was very unusual to find the twins on their own, as they were rather popular and liked to socialize.

"Don't write that," muttered George grimly, taking a quill from his brother. "We don't want to threaten him in writing. He could show it to someone-"

Fred had a clipboard on his lap and Astoria became wary as she approached and realized that they were composing a letter.

"What's going on?" asked Astoria.

Both twins jerked up straight guiltily. Fred turned the clipboard over to conceal the letter before turning around to face her.

"Nothing," said George, taking a passing stab at causal. "Why aren't you in the Great Hall?"

"I just had Moody's class," said Astoria, sinking onto the nearest arm chair. "Put me off my dinner."

"Right," said Fred. "Did he go over the Unforgivables with you? We had him on Tuesday."

"Mhmm," said Astoria, staring at the clipboard nosily. "Who are you writing to?"

"No one," said George. "Just a pen friend."

"Since when have you had a pen friend?" asked Astoria, reaching toward the clipboard.

"Never you mind," said Fred sternly, snatching the half composed letter away from her reaching fingers roughly. "We're entitled to some privacy now and then!"

"Alright," said Astoria, taken aback. "Sorry..."

George sighed and looked up at the ceiling irritably. Fred cast a half of a glance at his brother, obviously trying to read his train of thought.

"Well," said Astoria, feeling a little hurt, "I'll leave you to it."

"Don't," said George as Astoria stood up to go. "Come back"

"Sit," commanded Fred resignedly. "Look- we've got to tell you something and you probably aren't going to like it."

"Ok," said Astoria, a lick of baffled fear caressing her insides. "What's wrong?"

"Well," began George hesitantly, "nothing is 'wrong' per say, it's just that Fred and I made a bit of a mistake over the summer- that is, we did something that might make taking bets on the Tournament a little tricky."

"What did you do?" asked Astoria tensely, her sense of foreboding mounting. "You haven't accidentally blown up a muggle with a sweet, have you? Is the law looking for us?"

"No, no!" said George quickly. "Nothing like that. We just- well, we bet some of the money we made off of the quidditch tournament last year on the World Cup."

"How much?" asked Astoria at once, feeling oddly betrayed that Fred and George would have tapped into these resources for anything other than proper research on joke shop items. They had made that money together, after all. In fact, when it came to the gold they had earned gambling, Astoria had been the one to ensure that they won most of it.

"All of it," said Fred in a flat, miserable voice.

Astoria gaped at them.

"Don't look at us like that!" said George angrily. "We saw an opportunity and we took it- you would have done the same!"

"But you lost?" demanded Astoria accusingly.

"No, actually," said Fred tightly. "We didn't loose. That's where this all gets confusing."

"How is it confusing?" snapped Astoria. "You either won or you didn't!"

"We won," said George in a dark voice, "only the person we bet against never paid us."

"So it'll be hard to start a new pool," said Fred sadly. "We don't have any money at all now and we won't be able to pay people if they win. There's nothing left in the kitty. "

"Who did you bet aginst?" asked Astoria, chafing against the injustice of this.

Fred and George exchanged looks again.

"Ludo Bagman," said George, handing Astoria the clipboard at last.

"The head of the Department of Games and Sports?" Astoria spluttered. "What is he doing taking bets from minors? And then not paying them!"

"Yeah, well, it turns out he's a crooked little thief," said George hotly. "He paid us in leprechaun gold and ran off on us."

"Maybe he made a mistake?" Astoria suggested hopefully.

"We've written to him twice," said Fred in a low voice. "I don't think he made a mistake. I think he's trying to take us for all our money."

"It looked like he was betting pretty hard against the Goblins," added George. "He probably came up short trying to pay them, so he tapped into the money he had taken off of other people- people that won't find him at his house and beat him bloody, you know? Goblins can be nasty- awful reputation when it comes to gold. Fred and I were no threat in comparison..."

Astoria scanned the draft of the letter that the twins had been composing. It was marred with crossed off insults and threats.

"We're really sorry, Astoria," said Fred dismally.

"It's ok," said Astoria, forcing herself to stay calm, trying to come up with a plan. "Bagman's pretty important at the ministry. We can use that against him. He won't want people running around accusing him of taking illegal bets. We'll get the money back, we'll just have to be really careful about how we do it.

Fred and George both nodded.

I don't think we should put it in writing, though," Astoria added.

"Yeah," said George, taking the letter and ripping it into two clean pieces. "We were just coming to that."

0o0

Ok, I know this took a really long time to get posted. I'm sorry I've been so lagged lately. In fact, it has be been requested via review that I try to mention when my next post will be, (which is probably a good idea because I know the way I upload is erratic sometimes) so I'll be making a point of trying to do that from now on. Expect the next chapter to go up sometime late tomorrow night or the following morning!

Annnnd a second round of apologies for all the Mad-Eye fans out there, because I have a feeling he's going to take a slightly less flattering light than he did in the books. If it makes you feel any better, Mad-Eye is one of my favorites as well. Still, I have a feeling that (impostor-Moody, especially) was probably a lunatic with the the other students.

As always, reviews make me very happy!