Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters. All are property of JK Rowling.

Warnings: Extreme paranoia, one swear word.

Summary: Moody makes the most unusual of new enemies.



~Paranoia~


I can sense him looking at me.

I can see him out of the corner of my eye. Staring. Smiling his loathsome, empty-headed smile. Everywhere I go, his eyes follow me. From room to room, even. I can see him everywhere.

He's plotting against me, isn't he? Half the wizarding world would love to kill me. Just the other day, Black nearly killed me when he bumped into me and made me tumble headfirst down the stairs. He said it was an accident, but I'm sure he was just trying to get me out of the way. I wonder what Dumbledore sees in him.

But Black isn't the point here. It's him. Him.

He of the stupid hat and god-awful haircut. He's staring at me from across the kitchen, smiling as he watches me. He's very sneaky. I'm sure he's plotting something! I just know he is! Normal people don't smile like that!

Look at him, so smug and pleased with himself. The bastard. What gives him that right? What has he done? I've only prevented hundreds of deaths in the course of my career! I've only brought in dangerous Death Eaters! And what does he do?! Besides sitting there looking like he owns the world?!

Well, you won't get me!! I'm on to you! You won't take ME by surprise! Not I! You'd better just keep your eyes open, and don't you dare sleep! We'll see who gets who!!



Mrs. Weasley picked up the Quaker Oats box. Would you like some oatmeal, Alastor? she inquired.

Moody leapt to his feet. SO THAT'S YOUR GAME! he roared, pointing his walking stick at the oatmeal box. I'LL TELL YOU, MR. OATMEAL-BOX MAN, YOU'RE NOT GETTING RID OF ME THAT EASILY!!!

And with an insane cackle, Moody ran from the room, leaving Mrs. Weasley and the rest of the Order to stare blankly after him.

Mrs. Weasley looked down at the smiling face of the man on the oatmeal box. I wonder what's wrong with Alastor, she said, crossing over to the stove to start breakfast.



~The End!~



(A/N: This is probably the shortest fic I've ever written... Okay.... So why did I write about Moody being paranoid about the guy on the oatmeal box? I dunno, but you know how paranoid Moody is. Can't you just see him, ranting at the oatmeal man? I can't figure out why, but that oatmeal-box guy has creeped me out since I was a little kid. He smiles waaaaay too much.)


(I don't own Quaker Oats or the man on the box, either. Thank God.)