Chapter Three – Professor Moody:

Astoria scooped porridge into her mouth with one hand and held a copy of the second-years' schedule in her other. She ran her eyes down the list. From beside her, Melissa groaned, "Urg, Double Potions today, right after breakfast."

"You never know," chirped Sara, "maybe Professor Snape has gotten better."

Astoria choked on her mouthful of porridge.

"And we're still with the Slytherins," Melissa added dolefully.

Astoria swallowed her porridge and felt it slump in her stomach like a rock. Even Sara's face looked slightly less cheerful. It was not that Astoria particularly disliked Potions – in fact, she thought she might actually enjoy it, if it was not for a couple of factors not in its favor.

One was the Potions Master, Professor Snape, whom was secretly everyone's least favorite teacher – they were all just too afraid of him to say that out loud. He had yellow skin and yellow teeth, black eyes, black hair and wore swooping black robes. He was unpleasant and sarcastic and generally gave the impression he was concocting thousands of way in which to kill one when he was staring at them. He also only ever gave good marks to his house: Slytherin.

The second reason Astoria disliked Potions was that the Ravenclaws happened to attend it with the Slytherins.

Which ordinarily would not have been a problem except that Astoria was not a Slytherin and her sister was and somehow the rest of the Slytherins seemed to know that.

"What else do we have?" said Sara.

"Transfiguration after lunch," said Melissa with another groan. Nowhere near as bad as Potions, but the Transfiguration teacher, Professor McGonagall, was very strict and not apt to offer clemency should they not be paying attention to her class due to a taxing Potions lesson beforehand. "And then Charms after that."

"Well at least Professor Flitwick isn't so bad," said Sara. "When do we have Defense class? I want to see what Professor Moody's like."

"Tomorrow, after History of Magic," said Astoria, pushing away her empty porridge bowl and holding up her schedule so she could read.

Melissa shivered, "I don't know…he scared me. I've heard that half of Azkaban is full because of him."

"It isn't as though he's going to try to throw you in Azkaban," said Astoria.

"Still," she said, "I don't know why Professor Dumbledore got him. I've never heard of Moody wanting to teach before."

"Maybe it's always been a secret desire of his, or something," said Sara with a shrug and a smile. "Come on, better hurry or we'll be late to Potions."

They gathered their things and made their way towards the dungeons. Students bustled past them on their way to classes of their own. Astoria saw her sister through a crowd of older Hufflepuff's.

Daphne caught sight of Astoria and called her over.

Astoria excused herself from and wove her way toward Daphne. "Daphne I can't be late," she said when she got there. "It's the first day and Potions –"

"I'll be quick," said Daphne. She was standing with two of her friends that Astoria had met on previous occasion. They were Sophie Roper and Tracey Davis and otherwise engaged in conversation and not paying any attention to the sisters.

Daphne still pulled Astoria a little ways away, "So, what did you think about last night?"

Astoria shrugged. She didn't think anything about last night that might warrant being late for Potions, but she didn't tell that to Daphne.

"It's brilliant about the Triwizard Tournament –"

"Yes," said Daphne impatiently, "But what about Moody? What did you think about him being the new Defense Professor?"

Astoria had been hearing about the ludicrous antics of Mad-Eye Moody for most of her life, but knew of nothing that would warrant this cryptic tone.

"I thought it was really irresponsible of Dumbledore," said Astoria "if that's what you're hoping I'd say." She then looked behind her shoulder, hoping Moody wouldn't be anywhere in sight and wondering if he had a magical ear as well as eye.

"Good, I'm glad you think that" said Daphne. "Just – stay out of his way, alright? Moody is really dangerous. Watch out for him, alright?"

"What do you mean?" said Astoria. She knew Moody was paranoid and more than a little spell-happy, but dangerous? It seemed like a very strong word, but a specific one.

"Yeah," said Daphne uncomfortably, "just keep your head down in class. Don't give him any reasons to get you in trouble. Alright?"

"Alright…" said Astoria, uncomfortably feeling like Daphne wasn't telling her something.

"When do you have him, anyway?" said Daphne.

"Erm – tomorrow," Astoria answered. She was interrupted when one of Daphne's friends flounced over.

It was Sophie Roper, a flaunting, simpering girl, "Come on, Daphne," she said. "We'll be late for class."

"I should go, too," said Astoria. Sophie Roper didn't seem to notice her.

"Okay," said Daphne, "take care."

Astoria left and hastened to make it down to the dungeons in time. She arrived out of breath but just as Professor Snape was ushering them into the classroom.

She took seats with Sara and Melissa.

"Silence," said Professor Snape as the classroom door swung shut with a clang. There had been no need for the order and Astoria felt the familiar feeling of dread sink in her stomach, like the door shutting had been one to her prison cell.

"To see how much information has leaked out of your sorry brains over the summer," Professor Snape continued, producing a collection of tiresome looking bundles of parchment, "we will begin with a test."

Astoria trickled out of the Potion's classroom two hours later with her head pounding. Following the test, Snape had treated them to an hour long lecture on the swelling solution – what they would be working on this half of term – and then bid them class over, have a foot and a half on the properties of Boomslang skin next Tuesday.

"What a way to start the term," said Sara, her morning perkiness finally dissolved. "I hope that doesn't speak of what the rest of the year is going to be like."

"Don't even say that," said Melissa.

"Oh well," said Sara, "we should cheer up. At least we'll have the Triwizard Tournament to look forward to."

"Yeah," said Astoria. "what students do you think will try for it?"

"Probably most who are old enough," said Sara. "I mean, glory and riches are pretty strong stimulus."

"Yeah, but death and maiming are pretty strong cons," Melissa put in.

Sara sighed, "What I could do with one-thousand galleons…. I don't want to even think about what that is in Muggle money."

"–As if you could ever win," scoffed a voice from behind them. Astoria whirled around. She had been afraid of this, another reason why she disliked Potions, another reason why she disliked Slytherins: Livonia Mentang and Eris Platinous. Completing the group was Europa and Charon Shale, twins although not identical, whom never did much to make them anything more than cronies.

It was Livonia Mentang whom spoke, blond hair swinging in a tail behind her head and lips curled in a smirk. "A Muggle-born like you shouldn't even think about winning a wizards' competition."

Astoria had set apart time during the summer to think of comebacks to some of Livonia's more obvious ploys. She found each and every one of them flying away from her grasp in the heat of the moment.

"Like you could win, either," Astoria snapped. "You would get flattened five seconds into the first task."

"As if you would last longer," Livonia shot back, turning her burning blue-eyes on Astoria. Behind Livonia, Eris Platinous rolled her eyes.

"Erm, not to sound like a downer," said Sara, "but isn't this argument completely illogical? It isn't as though we could enter even if we wanted too. Besides, we probably would all be flattened five second in."

"You don't know anything about it, Muggle-born," Livonia spat. They were climbing their way back up to the entrance hall. Astoria wondered how much trouble she would get into if she pushed Livonia down the stairs.

"Yeah?" said Sara, showing surprising bravado as she stopped half-way up the stairwell and turned to look Livonia in the face, "well there are plenty of things you don't know about that I do!"

Livonia laughed, "Nothing of importance."

"Well what's the first nine digits after the decimal in pi?" Sara demanded.

"What? Said Livonia, then looked angry at herself for saying anything at all.

"Its one-four-one-five-nine-two-six-five-three!" said Sara triumphantly.

"You call that something of importance?" said Livonia, voicing what Astoria had been thinking but unwilling to say.

Sara bristled, "Pi is incredibly important – it – it's used to find the area of circles and without it we wouldn't have radians –"

"Isn't pie just a pastry stuffed with fruit?" said Europa Shale.

Eris rolled her eyes again, clearly she was unimpressed with the way her friends had come out for she grabbed Livonia's wrist and yanked her up the stairs, "Come on, Livonia. Let's just go." Eris pulled Livonia passed Sara, Astoria, and Melissa on the stairs. The Chale twins followed meekly after them. Astoria shot Eris a scowl as she passed.

Astoria broke into the corridor that would lead them to the entrance hall just as she heard a patter of footsteps coming up the stairs behind her. She pressed herself against the wall out of reflex, because whoever it was coming up the stairs sounded as if they were in a hurry.

Sara was not so lucky. She stepped off the top stair just a tall boy, with a pale, pointed face and a mop of white-blond hair, raced up after her. Draco Malfoy shoved Sara unceremoniously to the side.

"Hey!" she cried.

Draco Malfoy footsteps pounded down the corridor and his black robes whipped around his ankles. Something was held tightly in his fist. No doubt he had just come from the Slytherin common room.

"Weasley! Hey Weasley!" drifted his voice back to them, echoing loudly and triumphantly.

"Why, the nerve!" Sara declared, rubbing her shoulder where she'd hit the wall. She hopped out of the way as Draco Malfoy's two hulking friends Crabbe and Goyle, whom seemed more bodyguards than anything else, followed after him. Both were breathing hard, faces flushed from exertion.

"You alright?" said Melissa quietly, appearing finally out of the back after the confrontation with Livonia and now this.

"I'm fine," said Sara, pouting and still rubbing her shoulder. "Where does he think he's going?"

Astoria could still hear Draco Malfoy's voice, echoing against the high ceiling of the entrance hall and down the corridor: "Your dad's in the paper, Weasley! Listen to this!"

"Come on," she said over her shoulder to Melissa and Sara, beginning to quicken her pace, "let's see what's happening."

She rounded the corner and came out into the entrance hall, where a crowd had gathered to go to lunch but been held up the commotion at the doors to the Great Hall.

There was Draco Malfoy, flourishing a crinkled copy of the Dailey Prophet, confronting a tall boy with hair as flaming red as his face, accompanied by to friends, a girl and Harry Potter. Astoria recognized Harry Potter immediately. She had seen him only a handful of time during her first-year but everyone knew what he looked like: black hair, strikingly green eyes, and round glasses.

Draco Malfoy began to read off his copy of the Prophet, "Further mistakes at the Ministry of Magic:

"It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

Malfoy stopped reading to crow, "Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?"

Beside Astoria, Sara gasped, "How mean! That's a terrible thing to say!"

Astoria didn't know how to reply. Draco Malfoy's antics did seem distinctly below the belt. But he had a point. If the newspaper didn't get one's name right it did seem like one was rather…unimportant. Astoria's mother's name had been in the paper several times, as a prominent member of the Wizengammot. The Prophet had always gotten her name correct.

Malfoy was speaking again, reading off of the paper, "Mr. Weasly appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasly found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasly was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene."

Astoria didn't care about Malfoy antagonizing Ronald Weasley. She knew from her sister that Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were rivals, whom took every chance to hit one when the other wasn't looking. No doubt this was just another of those times.

She was interested, however, in the story about Mad-Eye Moody. She hadn't heard he'd almost been arrested. And yet, Dumbledore still allowed him to teach.

"And there's a picture, Weasley!"' Malfoy concluded, flipping the newspaper and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house – if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

Sara gasped again. Ronald Weasley was trembling with rage. He looked as though steam might gush from his ears.

Harry Potter spoke up, murmuring as if he was conscious that everyone in the hall was listening intently, "Get stuffed Malfoy, C'mon, Ron…."

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

Harry Potter and his other friend, the girl with the bushy hair, had to grab the back of Weasley's robe to keep him from launching himself at Malfoy. In some wild and unconnected part of her brain Astoria wondered with a pitch of intrigue what would happen if Harry Potter and his friend let go of Weasley's robes. She had never seen a fight before, and would not have minded had Draco Malfoy's nose got flattened.

Although she would not contemplate ever saying it allowed. He was Draco Malfoy, after all.

Potter and his friend managed to pull Weasley away. Insults were exchanged and Astoria felt a trickling, miniscule feeling of disappointment when she realized there was not going to be a fight. Potter tugged his friends toward the Great Hall, turning his back on Malfoy. Malfoy drew his wand. Sara shrieked as a jet of light shot out from Malfoy's wand, brushing passed Potter's ear, whom whipped around –

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

Astoria started and felt a gasp seep out of her lips. She blinked in shock and alarm. Standing where Draco Malfoy used to be was suddenly a pure white, shivering ferret. It had happened so quickly Astoria had not even seen the blur transfiguration.

She heard the thumping footfalls on the marble staircase and turned to Mad-Eye Moody limping towards the floor, wand outstretched and quivering with rage in his mangled hand.

Melissa bumped into Astoria as she backed away, shrinking from their enraged Defense Professor. Sara's eyes were popping and mouth hanging open in mute surprise. Astoria watched, unwilling to even blink lest she miss something.

"Did he get you?" growled Moody to Potter.

"No, missed."

"LEAVE IT!" Moody roared. Astoria felt Melissa jump.

Astoria saw one of Malfoy's friends – she thought it might have been Crabbe but couldn't really tell the two apart – stumble backwards from where he'd been about to pick of the ferret off the floor.

Draco Malfoy. The ferret on the floor. Astoria could not connect the two in her mind. Something caught in her throat, something that felt horrifyingly like laughter. She choked it down.

"Leave – what?" said Potter.

"Not you – him!" Moody jerked his thumb over his shoulder to Crabbe. Moody turned and began barreling towards the three Slytherins, wand outstretched, eye whirling madly in its socket. The hall watched in terrified, eager silence.

The ferret let out a horrified squeak and scurried away, toward Astoria and the corridor that lead to the dungeons.

Sara stumbled out of the way but Moody roared, "I don't think so!"

The ferret seemed to trip over its own feet, then it rose into the air, legs still moving as if it was unaware it had left the ground, and then pelted back towards the floor, hitting the stone with a smack.

Sara gasped in a mixture of shock and disgust. Astoria felt her mouth drop open. Several people shrieked.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," Moody snarled as the ferret hit ground again and again. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…."

Beside her, Astoria felt Sara move. Astoria's hand enclosed around Sara's upper arm, afraid perhaps she was going to rush forward to intervene.

"Never – do – that – again –" Moody punctuated each word with an exclamation point and a slam of the ferret to the ground. It flailed helplessly in the air, squealing.

"Professor Moody!" Astoria felt her stomach drop in relief. She saw Professor McGonagall running down the marble staircase, a pile of books in her arms.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody. The ferret continued to hit the ground and fly into the air again.

"What – what are you doing?" McGonagall faltered, looking from Professor Moody, to the bouncing ferret, and to the surrounding students – some of whom were smiling quickly checked their expressions.

"Teaching," said Moody.

"Teach – Moody, is that a student?"

"Yep."

"No!" The books clattered to the floor and McGonagall flourished her wand. With a loud snap Draco Malfoy reappeared, in a shivering lump on the floor.

"Moody, we never use transfiguration as a punishment! Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?" McGonagall's chest heaved with breath. Her face was pale with anger.

Draco Malfoy's face was flushed red. He got to his feet slowly, shirking away from Moody, whom still stood before him with his wand drawn.

"He might've mentioned it, yeah."' Moody scratched his chin. "But I thought a good sharp shock –"

'"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"' McGonagall cried.

"I'll do that, then," Moody growled.

Malfoy muttered something about "my father".

"Oh yeah?" Moody asked taking a step closer to Draco. "Well, I know you 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'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," Malfoy grunted unwillingly.

"Another old friend," Moody growled. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape…. Come on, you…." He grabbed Malfoy by his upper arm and dragged him forward. Astoria pressed herself against the wall and out of the way as they swept passed. She averted her eyes. It would not do to make eye-contact, with either Moody or Malfoy.

For the space of a second there was not a sound in the entrance hall, then the students exhaled and voices rushed out all at once.

"Oh…my…goodness," said Sara.

Melissa squealed something indiscernible. Several students were laughing, most were muttering in low voices about what had just happened.

"Did you see his face?"

"Malfoy's or Moody's?"

"Good thing McGonagall stopped it."

"He's our teacher?"

"I've never seen something like that before," said Sara shakily. "If that's how Professor Moody punishes all his students then I'm not so sure he should be teaching here."

"That was scary," said Melissa.

"Malfoy could have really been hurt," said Astoria, not entirely certain if that mattered.

"But that was terrible what he was saying to that other boy," said Sara.

"Not really," said Astoria quickly, "everyone knows Malfoy hates Potter and Weasley – it didn't really mean anything."

"Come on," said Sara when the rest of the students began to disperse through the doors of the Great Hall. Astoria, Sara, and Melissa made their way to the Ravenclaw table.

Astoria saw Mark and Stephan sitting a little ways down from them. They were enthusiastically discussing what had just happened.

"That was bloody brilliant," said Mark.

"Yeah," Stephan agreed, "Malfoy won't be so high and mighty now."

"Do you think he deserved it?" Sara chimed in. "I mean, he was being mean but to be turned into a ferret and bounced off the floor…."

Mark laughed at the memory.

"Of course he deserved it," Stephan answered. "He's a stuck-up little bigot."

Astoria glared at him and Stephan's voice ebbed away. She had been expecting him to add something along the lines of plus, he's a Slytherin pureblood.

Sara shrugged, "I guess it's alright – at least McGonagall stopped it before it went too far."

"Can't wait until tomorrow!" said Mark.

"Just make sure you don't answer a question wrong," said Sara, laughing, "else it'll be you bouncing on the floor."

Astoria began to eat her lunch. She remembered what Daphne had told her that morning, to watch out for Professor Moody. Astoria wondered if this was what her sister had meant by dangerous.

The next day, mid-morning, Astoria sat in-between Sara and Melissa and faced the front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. The classroom itself looked unassuming: there was a desk and a blackboard and a window letting in a stream of sunlight. Standing in front of the rows of second-years, however, was Professor Moody.

Large and menacing he stood before them, swathed in a dark cloak and magical eye whirling to each students' face in turn. Astoria felt a shiver of anticipation when it swept over her.

Professor Moody began the class with a roll call, "Ackerley, Derek."

"Here, sir," answered Derek Ackerley, a boy whom shared a dormitory with Mark and Stephan. He sounded tense and excited; he leaned forward over his desk.

"Andrews, Jessie."

"Present."

He ran down the list of students' names, eye spinning.

Astoria clenched her new Defense book in her hands, feeling sweat collect beneath her palms and onto the glossy surface of the cover.

"Greengrass, Astoria."

"Present, sir."

A beat of silence and, "How's your father, Greengrass?"

Astoria looked up. She felt gooseflesh erupt over her arms as she saw Moody's eye was trained on hers – his normal one, the magical one was still whizzing over the room.

"My father…?" she heard her voice escape her lips but became pointedly aware that no, she had not misheard Professor Moody. "My father's dead, sir."

Another heartbeat of silence in which Astoria felt Moody's magical eye stop roving about the room and focus on her. She felt the other Ravenclaw second-years attention pique and heard the ruffling of robes and hair as they turned to stare at her.

"Sorry to hear that, Greengrass. Hibburt, Sara."

"What? I mean – here, sir!"

Moody's eyes left her. Astoria felt her shoulders slump as if his gaze had been physically holding her to attention. She didn't realize until then how quickly her heart had been thumping. She wondered if the other students could hear it, if they were still staring at her. Surely they were; she could feel each of their eyes as they grazed the back of her head.

Her father. How was her father? Her father was dead. Astoria realized she had never said that aloud, never that actual sequence of words. Her father was dead.

Astoria father's name was Hyperion Meliflua. She had never met him. He was dead. He had died when Astoria was five-years-old. He had died in Azkaban, sentenced there for life for the crimes of a Death Eater. All of these were facts, insurmountable, irrefutable facts.

She wondered why Professor Moody cared. She wondered how he didn't already know. More than that she wondered how he had known that – that Hyperion Meliflua had been married to Lyra Greengrass when Lyra Greengrass had always kept her maiden name.

Astoria wondered how Professor Moody had known Hyperion Meliflua was her father.