Mad-Eye Moody
The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, thoughtful the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead as Harry, Ron, and Hermione examined their new course schedules at breakfast. A few seats along, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were discussing magical methods of aging themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.
"Today's not bad...outside all morning," said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures...damn it, we're still with the Slytherins..."
"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned, looking down.
"You should have given it up like me, shouldn't you?" said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."
"You're eating again, I notice," said Ron, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast too.
"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," said Hermione haughtily.
"Yeah...and you were hungry," said Ron, grinning.
There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel into his lap - Neville almost always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall Draco Malfoy's eagle owl had landed on his shoulder, carrying what looked like his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. Hermione watched as he opened a particularly large brown package and took out what looked like a broom care kit, rather like the one Hermione had gotten Harry a year before, though the outer rim was incased in what appeared to be solid gold with the Malfoy Crest emblazoned on the leather front. As Malfoy's friends sat around admiring his new gift, he glanced up across the table and caught Hermione's gaze. He smirked as she inhaled sharply and looked away.
Hermione walked with Harry and Ron down to Herbology that morning to greenhouse three, where all three were distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class a new type of plant. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.
"Bubotubers," Hermione whispered to herself as she anticipated today's lesson.
Harry, who had barely caught what she had said, turned to her with a look of slight disgust on his face. "Bubo-?"
"Bubotubers, Potter," Professor Sprout told them. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus-"
"The what?" said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.
"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout briskly, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."
Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.
"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."
"Like poor Eloise Midgen," said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."
"Silly girl," said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end."
A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Finishing up with Potions, the Weasley twins and Lee climbed up the spiral staircase to Defence Against the Dark Arts, where the new Professor would be.
"Wonder what he's like as a professor, Moody," remarked Fred as another class descended beside them. "Dad says he's a great Auror, but I think he's a nutter, what with all that Muggle business flying about."
Lee shrugged. "I suppose we'll see when we get up there. He must be somewhat good, though, if Dumbledore hired him."
George scoffed. "That's not saying much-he's also the man who hired Quirrell and Lockhart. I mean, Lupin was great, but he resigned. The job is cursed, I tell you."
As they entered the classroom and walked towards their desks, they saw Angelina Johnson talking to Alicia Spinnet and Travis Moore about things she had heard from other students.
"I hear he likes to perform dangerous spells as lessons; Unforgivable Curses and such," Angelina said quietly as she tightened her hold on a book and Alicia swallowed a lump in her throat.
Travis nodded. "Yeah, and I've heard that his eye can see out of the back of his head."
George popped into the conversation, "And his leg is made out of the molten wands of his enemies."
"And his hands have touched You-Know-Who himself, so they're all mangled," chimed in Fred.
Angelina hit them both with the book she was holding. "Oh, stuff it, you two."
"She's right. Now, take your seats so we can start, or you'll be my first volunteers."
The group, slightly startled by the voice, whirled around only to see their new professor, Alastor Moody, watching them from the top of his staircase. His one real eye was watching them intently, and his other one, almost like glass, was whirling around in it's metal socket, as if taking in its surroundings through the back of Moody's head.
Not wanting to find out what they'd have to volunteer for, the five students hurried to sit down, anxiously watching Moody to see how he would start.
"How many of you know all the different types of dark arts there are in this world?" Moody scanned the class with a narrow eye, almost daring someone to raise their hand. Fred and George exchanged quick glances. "None of you, eh? Well, you're about to find out."
He flicked his wand, making the shutters close over the windows. There were a few gasps of surprise, and one of the girls in the back flat-out screamed. He quietly lit a few of the candles near the front of the room.
All of the sudden there was a flash of blue light and a CRACK, and where Moody once stood was now a silver being. It wasn't quite a statue, but it wasn't a human, either.
All of the sudden spells were being fired at the dummy so fast it looked as if five different people were attacking it. But as Fred saw, Moody alone stood on the side of the room, aiming curse after curse at his target.
When he had finished, the dummy no longer had limbs or a head. In fact, it was no longer standing; it had been reduced to a pile of ash, wisps of coloured smoke rising from it, along with a slightly disturbing odor.
"Blimey," Lee whispered from behind the twins.
Moody moved back to the front of the room and vanished the debris. "Those curses I just used were ones commonly used by Death Eaters when the Dark Lord rose to power. In the beginning, when they first rose, the followers were a bit tentative about using these kinds of spells freely, but once the Dark Lord gained more power and more important people, they decided they could do whatever they wanted; they wouldn't get in trouble."
Fred couldn't help but wonder what all had happened to Moody during his time as an Auror. He seemed knowledgeable on all types of Dark Magic, and maybe some of his experiences came from being on the wrong end of some of these spells.
The rest of the class progressed with a stable silence, save for answers to questions, as no one wanted to anger their new professor. At the end of class, Mad-Eye assigned work, to be completed by Monday.
"Merlin," said George as they exited the classroom. "We're supposed to look up twenty different Dark spells and their effects; how are we supposed to do that?"
Fred sighed, but quickly took on a smirk. "I have a feeling we're going to have to take a few trips into the Restricted Section of the library."
Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As the Fourth Year Gryffindors drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached Hermione's ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.
"Mornin'!" Hagrid said, grinning at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this - Blast-Ended Skrewts!"
"Come again?" said Ron.
Hagrid pointed down into the crates.
"Eurgh!" squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backward.
"Eurgh" just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts in Hermione's opinion. They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches.
"On'y jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"
"And why would we want to raise them?" said a cold voice.
The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words.
Hagrid looked stumped at the question.
"I mean, what do they do?" asked Malfoy. "What is the point of them?"
Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things - I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer - I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake - just try 'em out with a bit of each."
"First pus and now this," muttered Seamus.
Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made Harry, Ron, and Hermione pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts.
"Ouch!" yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. "It got me."
Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.
"It's end exploded!" said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.
"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," said Hagrid, nodding.
"Eurgh!" said Lavender Brown again. "Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"
"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). "I reckon they're the males...The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies...I think they might be ter suck blood."
"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Malfoy sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"
"Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful," Hermione snapped. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"
Malfoy only scrunched up his nose disgustedly and folded his arms.
Hagrid gave Hermione a furtive smile from behind his bushy beard. Hagrid would have liked nothing better than a pet dragon, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew only too well - he had owned one for a brief period during their first year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norbert. Hagrid simply loved monstrous creatures, the more lethal, the better.
"Well, at least the skrewts are small," said Ron as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.
"They are now," said Hermione in an exasperated voice, "but once Hagrid's found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long."
"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?" said Ron, grinning slyly at her.
"You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up," said Hermione. "As a matter of fact I think he's right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all."
They sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped themselves to lamb chops and potatoes. Hermione began to eat so fast that Harry and Ron stared at her.
"Er - is this the new stand on elf rights?" said Ron. "You're going to make yourself sick instead?"
"No," said Hermione, with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth bulging with sprouts. "I just want to get to the library."
"What?" said Ron in disbelief. "Hermione - it's the first day back! We haven't even got homework yet!"
Hermione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten for days. Then she leapt to her feet, said, "See you at dinner!" and departed at high speed.
When she reached the library, Hermione saw the last three people she would expect to see in between the rows of books.
Fred, George, and Lee were huddled around a table with many large books sprawled around them, all open to rather odd pages.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked as she approached.
All three heads popped up to look at her, and Fred and George smiled as she stood in between them.
"'Dark Magic Through the Ages'?"
George nodded in mock seriousness. "Yeah, we're trying to figure out how to join the Death Eater club."
Fred raised his eyebrows. "So far, it just looks like we need a parent's permission to join. You earn badges for accomplishments and everything if you want to join too."
Hermione just looked to Lee, who laughed. "We're researching for our assignment for Moody; had to get this out of the Restricted Section. D'you know how long it took us to forge a note from one of the teachers?"
Hermione looked appalled. Fred smacked Lee on his arm.
"Don't tell her that!" He turned to Hermione. "Look, the only reason we forged it was because none of the professors would believe us. I promise," he added when she still looked sceptical.
"What's the homework about, anyway?" Hermione scanned a couple pages of the book.
"We have to name and describe a bunch of dark spells...he's a right scary bloke," George added as an afterthought. "Showed us all sorts of dangerous stuff."
Hermione's eyes widened. "He better not do any of that in my class! You're older, but really, certain spells should not be demonstrated in school, or not until you're in N. E. W. T. level classes with the approval of Dumbledore."
Fred shrugged. "I guess he knows what he's doing, Hermione; Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him if he didn't. And besides, you try telling him what he shouldn't do."
"I suppose you're right," she sighed defeatedly. "I guess I'll just help you with your homework, then."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," Lee said, "I think we've found the book we need."
Hermione snatched up the book. "You three will finish a lot quicker with me helping, and you know it. We can get a start on it before afternoon classes."
None of the boys protested.
"Exactly. Now, where should we start?"
"Miserable old bat," said Ron bitterly as he and Harry joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner. "That'll take all weekend, that will..."
"Lots of Divination homework?" said Hermione brightly, catching up with them. "Professor Vector didn't give us any at all!"
"Well, bully for Professor Vector," said Ron moodily.
They reached the entrance hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. They had just joined the end of the line, when a loud voice rang out behind them.
"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.
"What?" said Ron shortly.
"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" said Malfoy, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. "Listen to this!
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 looked up.
"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" he crowed.
Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on:
Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley 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. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley 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.
"And there's a picture, Weasley!" said Malfoy, flipping the paper over 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?"
Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him.
"Get stuffed, Malfoy," said Harry. "C'mon, Ron..."
"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"
"You know your mother, Malfoy?" said Harry-both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron's robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy- "that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"
Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink.
"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."
"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," said Harry, turning away.
BANG!
Several people screamed-Hermione saw something white-hot graze the side of Harry's face-he plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but there was a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall.
"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"
Harry and Hermione spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.
There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry - at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.
"Did he get you?" Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly.
"No," said Harry, "missed."
"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.
"Leave-what?" Harry said, bewildered.
"Not you-him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.
Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.
"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again-it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.
"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..." The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.
"Never-do-that-again-" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.
"Professor Moody!" said a shocked voice.
Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.
"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.
"What - what are you doing?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.
"Teaching," said Moody.
"Teach - Moody, is that a student?" shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.
"Yep," said Moody.
"No!" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.
"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall wealdy. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"
"He might've mentioned it, yeah," said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock-"
"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"
"I'll do that, then," said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.
Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words "my father" were distinguishable.
"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "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'll be Snape, will it?"
"Yes," said Malfoy resentfully.
"Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape...Come on, you..."
And he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons.
Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.
"Don't talk to me," Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened.
"Why not?" said Hermione in surprise.
"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever," said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. "Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret."
Harry and Hermione both laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of their plates.
"He could have really hurt Malfoy, though," she said. "It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it -"
"Hermione!" said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again, "you're ruining the best moment of my life!"
Hermione made an impatient noise and began to eat at top speed again.
"Don't tell me you're going back to the library this evening?" said Harry, watching her.
"Got to," said Hermione thickly. "Loads to do."
"But you told us Professor Vector -"
"It's not schoolwork," she said. Within five minutes, she had cleared her plate and departed. No sooner had she gone than her seat was taken by Fred Weasley.
"Moody!" he said. "How cool is he?"
"Beyond cool," said George, sitting down opposite Fred.
"Supercool," said Lee, sliding into the seat beside George. "We had him this afternoon," he told Harry and Ron.
"What was it like?" said Harry eagerly.
Fred, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning.
"Never had a lesson like it," said Fred.
"He knows, man," said Lee.
"Knows what?" said Ron, leaning forward.
"Knows what it's like to be out there doing it," said George impressively.
"Doing what?" said Harry.
"Fighting the Dark Arts," said Fred.
"He's seen it all," said George.
"'Mazing," said Lee.
Ron dived into his bag for his schedule.
"We haven't got him till Thursday!" he said in a disappointed voice.
Again, I will be going on vacation this next week, so I'll have plenty of time to write, I just don't know if I'll be able to post...
Thank you for your reads!
Love,
B