Chapter 11

Barty was having a great time.

So far everything was going perfect. It was still hard to believe that he had managed to fool Dumbledore, but apparently he had, going so far as to drink Polyjuice in front of his eyes without the man even raising an eyebrow. It had been exhausting to prepare for that first encounter, of course, since Moody and Dumbledore had known each other for over half a century, but the Dark Lord had been right in that at least to begin with he only really needed to know what they had talked about in the last five years and especially during the last summer. So Barty had focused his interrogation on that day when Dumbledore had gone to persuade Moody of taking the DADA job. He also had taken the trouble to enquire about Moody's possible relationships with other members of staff and even some students, and of course about Snape. That had taken a while. Apparently Moody absolutely despised Snape and didn't trust him one bit, having a lot of nasty things to say about him. He was half the reason why the Auror had agreed to come out of retirement, being the other half Igor Karkaroff. It was interesting to know that Moody thought Dumbledore a fool for trusting a Death Eater, and also that he didn't seem to know about their Dark Marks. Either Dumbledore had not told Moody, or Snape had not told Dumbledore.

As to how Snape had managed to fool Dumbledore (if that was indeed what he was doing), it seemed that the old man believed that Snape had shown "true remorse". Barty snorted again. He had known Snape back then, and he had met him again a few days back, and nothing about the man had ever suggested he was capable of remorse. He was cold as ice, maybe even colder than the Dark Lord.

That didn't mean that he could be trusted. Such an expert Occlumens could convince anyone of anything, and in any case it wasn't necessary for him to be a nice person to be loyal to Dumbledore. Most likely he was just doing what it seemed more convenient to him, like most Slytherins, which in Barty's opinion didn't excuse him at all if it meant going against his master.

Interesting as it had been to meet with Snape that first day, it had also been unnerving. There was something about Snape that put Barty on edge. His black eyes were certainly almost as disturbing as the Dark Lord's red ones, perhaps because they were both powerful Legilimens. Barty had feared his mind would be attacked, but apparently his master had been right about that too: no one would risk provoking Alastor Moody with a mental intrusion.

It had been scary, but also deeply satisfying, since his fellow Death Eater had seemed even more on edge than Barty. Maybe even afraid. The Dark Lord had not told him any details about the World Cup riot, but now Barty was certain that Snape had been there, and he wondered whether Dumbledore knew about it. He must, if Snape was pretending to be a spy, or really being a spy, but if that was so it was odd that Harry Potter had not been better protected during the event. Barty decided to bring up the subject the next time he met with the Headmaster, knowing that it would not be strange at all for Moody to start accusing Snape of Death Eater activity from week one.

As he limped back to his quarters after breakfast, he reflected once more on how awesome it was to be Alastor Moody. Everyone was afraid of him because of his appearance or reputation, and nobody suspected him, since he was the one suspecting even his own shadow. The eye was the best part. He could see everything with it, in all directions and through anything, even clothes. After being imprisoned for so many years either at Azkaban or at his father's house, it was glorious to be able to take a good look at some of the female staff and even some NEWT students. He couldn't do more than look at the moment, but at least he felt like a man again.

Fifteen minutes later, he was laughing at the sight of the famous Auror meekly eating his breakfast under the Imperius Curse. It was just too absurd, especially considering his lesson's plans for today. One would have thought that a man intent on teaching fourth years how to resist the Imperius Curse would at least be able to resist it himself partially. But no. There he was, eating his meal with a blank expression.

Barty was really looking forward to his next classes. Of all the people he could have impersonated, Moody definitely was the best, since Dumbledore allowed him to get away with most anything. He had barely admonished him for the ferret incident.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?" he asked once he had threw the Imperiused spider back into the jar.

A very familiar looking boy hesitantly raised his hand. He was the very image of his mother.

"Yes?" said Barty, trying very hard to hide his excitement.

"There's one — the Cruciatus Curse," the boy said in a small but distinct voice.

"Your name's Longbottom?" asked Barty for confirmation, although he was sure.

The boy nodded nervously. Oh, this was so sweet! He had not anticipated such an opportunity when he had accepted his master's mission. Over the last few days he had met children of people he had killed, but this one was a special one.

Taking into consideration his special witness, Barty decided to engorge the spider a little bit, so the effect could be better appreciated.

"Crucio!" he muttered pointing at the spider with his wand.

It wasn't as fun to torture spiders as it was to torture people or at least mammals, since the screaming in pain part was omitted, but it was still quite obvious that the engorged spider was having a really bad time. Barty kept his normal eye on it, but his magical one didn't leave the Longbottom boy, so he noticed with delight that his eyes were wide and horrified, and that his hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white. He put a little more intention into his torture, making the spider shudder and jerk more violently...

"Stop it!" said a girl's voice shrilly.

Barty mentally sighed in frustration and lifted the curse.

"Pain," he said softly once he had returned the spider to its proper size and put it back into the jar. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse..." Although knives were also fun, as Bellatrix had taught him. "That one was very popular once too."

"Right... anyone know any others?"

Barty's normal eye scanned the classroom, but the magical one was now fixed on Potter. Surely he had to be the one to bring up the last one, right? Barty had been waiting for him to raise his hand since the class had started. But no, the boy looked as lost and curious as the rest of them. Clearly this one was a Gryffindor class, filled with kids that thought themselves too noble to torture or kill. The fourth-year Slytherins had yelled all three Unforgivables at the same time in less than three seconds, and several other curses too. There had even been a Hufflepuff who had known the Killing Curse.

Finally, a shaking hand raised into the air, but it wasn't Potter's. Barty had been trying to ignore the Mudblood, but now he figured he didn't have any other options.

"Yes?"

"Avada Kedavra," the girl whispered.

Barty's mouth twisted in a smile, trying not to let the mockery show. Who would be so stupid as to call the Killing Curse by its incantation? Even if no doubt the girl would not be able to cast it, she should know better than to say the words unless she was prepared to try.

"Ah, yes, the last and worse. Avada Kedavra..." said Barty, looking at the Mudblood pointedly. "The Killing Curse."

He took out the third spider and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface as if it sensed what was coming. And maybe it did. Barty could feel the murderous intent building up inside him. It had been so long!

"Avada Kedavra!" he roared.

The flash of blinding green light felt like home to him. And that rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air... that whisper had always filled him with awe. Of course, it wasn't the same to kill a spider than a person, but the light and the rush of speeding death were the same.

His magical eye had this time been fixed on Potter, who had paled visibly.

"Not nice," he said calmly, sweeping the dead spider off the desk onto the floor without ceremony. "Not pleasant." Well... "And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it." Unless once uses Transfiguration or someone else as a shield, he amended in his mind. "Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

He met Potter's eyes with both his own, hating the boy's guts and wondering... His master had not explained to him what had happened that night, why the boy had survived while the greatest wizard ever had disappeared. It couldn't have been anything that the toddler did. Of course it wasn't Barty's place to ask questions, he just had to obey, but he was curious... The Killing Curse wasn't supposed to leave any marks, and yet Potter had that scar, so peculiar...

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it," he continued explaining in the silent classroom. "You could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed." Although one never knew, so Barty would rather not let them try. "But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it."

Barty spent the rest of the class sitting lazily behind his desk while dictating some interesting trivia about the Unforgivable Curses. Clearly his exhibition had shocked everyone, because no one spoke until the bell rang and the brats left the classroom.

His magical eye followed Potter through the walls. The boy looked well enough, although still pale and a little shocked. Maybe he had remembered that night? But it couldn't be, right? He had been a baby at the time. But then why was he reacting this way? It had been obvious that Potter had not known the name of the curse nor the incantation, but there had been recognition in his eyes. Maybe he had seen the curse used in some other occasion?

He saw Potter and his cronies meet up with Longbottom, who still looked definitely shocked. That one had known the name of the Cruciatus. Could he remember? He had been as young as Potter at the time...

Barty felt tempted to call the boy back to find out, but he forced himself to restrain his morbid curiosity. It was already a given that at least McGonagall would have a few things to say to him about this class, especially since she was Longbottom's and Potter's Head of House. Moody might be able to get away with a lot, but he wasn't sure if calling back a shocked student to traumatize him a bit more was included. Besides, Moody wasn't supposed to know about Longbottom, at least not more than it had been said in Barty's trial.

The trial where my bastard of a father signed his death sentence.

As he watched Potter and his friends trying to snap Longbottom out of his shock, Snape seemed to materialize right next to them like a shadow detaching itself from a wall. Barty took note of Snape's sneaking ability and then carefully watched the interaction. It was the first time he saw Snape and Potter so close, and he wanted to assess with his own eyes (well, his magical eye) how true it was what Wormtail had said about them hating each other.

Even without being able to hear, the scene was easy to interpret. Snape had obviously approached the students with the express purpose of startling them (they had been distracted with Longbottom), an evil expression on his sallow face. Potter's reaction when he noticed his Professor was to jump back several feet and instinctively move his hand to what might be his wand pocket. Then there was a glaring contest in which surprizingly the boy held his own. At some point Snape seemed to notice Longbottom's state, and probably commanded him to follow him (whether to the Infirmary or to the dungeons, Barty couldn't guess). Longbottom made to follow, but Potter got in the way, adopting a protective stance in front of his schoolmate. It really looked as if the boy feared Snape would hurt Longbottom, and as if Snape wished nothing more than to curse Potter for his insolence. Words were said, probably points taken and threats pronounced, until finally Granger and Weasley saw sense and restrained Potter, allowing Snape to drag Longbottom away with a mixture of triumph and fury on his face.

Interesting.