Chapter 292. A Conversation with Moody
"Knock, knock."
"Come in."
Moody's low, raspy voice came from behind the door.
Adrian Wesson pushed open the office door—and froze.
The whole office was so bare it made his heart lurch—bare walls and floorboards, a small wooden trunk, a few chairs, a wooden desk with a lone Sneakoscope sitting on it.
Other than that, there was nothing.
"Where are your things?" Adrian couldn't help asking.
"All in the trunk," Moody stood up from his chair and walked over to Adrian. "I'm not in the habit of leaving my personal effects in unfamiliar places—"
"Ah, that reminds me, Professor Wesson, what brings you here?" he asked mildly.
"Just dropping by," Adrian answered.
"Good, you're very welcome." Moody sounded rather pleased.
That surprised Adrian a little—he'd expected Moody to be as jumpy and suspicious as the rumours said, but while the man's gaze was keen, his tone was unexpectedly even, even carrying a touch of warmth.
Moody led Adrian to a wooden chair. It was hard as a board, but at least it was a chair.
Adrian had just opened his mouth to speak when Moody suddenly began.
"I heard you killed a Death Eater at the Quidditch World Cup."
"A Death Eater?" Adrian shook his head to clarify. "I don't know where you heard that, but I didn't do that… Oh, yes, a Death Eater did die, but it wasn't by my hand—it was the other Death Eaters."
"Crabbe." Moody narrowed his eyes.
"Ah, yes, him," Adrian nodded. "Someone cursed him. He blew up right in front of me, like a firework… poor fellow."
"Poor?" Moody gave a short, cold laugh. "I advise you not to indulge such naïve notions. Back when You-Know-Who was still around, Crabbe tortured to death several Muggle-born wizards with his own hands. A piece of work like that belongs in Azkaban."
"All right, you're right."
Adrian had no desire to say more on the subject; he kept seeing the moment Crabbe exploded—it made his stomach roil, especially just after lunch.
So he changed the topic. "Professor McGonagall said you and Snape had a bit of unpleasantness in the Great Hall this morning."
Moody paused, faintly taken aback.
"You should know," he said, expressionless, "that man is a Death Eater, no different from Crabbe. If not for Dumbledore's guarantee, he ought to be in Azkaban keeping company with Dementors."
"Do you know what's most ironic?"
He paused, then went on, "He used those agonising potions to torment the innocent, and now he's teaching children Potions."
"Well…" Adrian said carefully, "I agree—but Professor McGonagall asked me to pass along that you shouldn't be clashing inside Hogwarts Castle."
"Ha!" Moody whirled round, his magical eye fixing on Adrian. "Is that a reprimand?"
"Oh, of course not."
Adrian smiled faintly. "I mean, you could find a way to draw Snape off school grounds…
I happen to know that once a month, at a set time, he goes to Diagon Alley or Knockturn Alley to buy things."
Moody was silent for a while, then said slowly, "Good idea."
Adrian observed a brief, silent three seconds of mourning for Professor Snape.
Being targeted by an old Auror was bound to be a thorough nuisance—even for Snape.
Still, this ought to mean the task Professor McGonagall had given him was done.
She only wanted Snape and Moody not to start a fight on school grounds; as for outside…
Well, that was a different matter.
Once the talk of Crabbe and Snape passed, the mood lightened considerably.
Moody even fetched teacups from his trunk and poured Adrian a cup of tea—tea leaves he had "borrowed" from the Auror Office.
When the conversation turned to Defence Against the Dark Arts—
"They need more training," Moody said, thinking aloud. "I've taught plenty of rookie Aurors, and they're all the same—too relaxed, too naïve. If that man comes back, they won't be able to protect themselves."
His eyes suddenly swivelled to the door, then back to fix on Adrian. "Most students can't even manage the basic defensive spells. They need a sense of danger."
"Well…" Adrian suggested, "let them get a look at the real stuff, how about it? For example, the Unforgivable Curses."
Moody's magical eye stopped moving.
"I don't think that will do," he said, shaking his head gravely. "I'm here to teach, not to sow fear."
"All right, I didn't think it through." Adrian shrugged.
In truth, he'd thought Moody had already shown the students the Unforgivable Curses.
As it turned out, though Moody could be a bit unhinged at times, he was far more level-headed than Adrian had imagined—at least in front of him.
That further confirmed that the man before him was the real Moody.
Adrian took a sip of tea and looked the ageing Auror over again.
"I've heard you cover part of Defence Against the Dark Arts every year?" Moody took a swig from his own flask. "Got that from the students."
"Oh, yes," Adrian replied. "Every year, something goes wrong with the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor in the end. You know, it's a cursed post."
"You teach it rather well," Moody ignored the bit about the curse. "Cedric Diggory—you remember him? A fine lad."
"Every professor likes an excellent student." Adrian smiled.
He hadn't expected Moody to praise a student of his own accord, but it showed he was teaching in earnest.
"But!" Moody suddenly raised his voice. "Even the best student needs more,
more rigorous training!"
"What are you planning to do?" Adrian asked, curious.
"More lessons," Moody panted. "I'm going to have a proper word with Dumbledore about it. What students need now is the ability to defend themselves. I reckon you know Death Eaters have already begun to move, so there can't be much time left before that man returns."
A gust rose outside; the window went "Clang, clang" in the wind.
Moody immediately looked towards it, right hand already on his wand. Seeing nothing amiss, he slid the wand back into his belt.
"That's a good proposal," Adrian said thoughtfully. "But I don't think Dumbledore will agree; the students are busy enough as it is."
"Necessary! It's necessary!" Moody's voice rasped, impassioned, his wooden leg thumping hard on the floorboards.
After leaving Moody's office, Adrian felt he understood him better.
Though his emotions were indeed a little unstable, he ought to make a very good teacher for the students.
After all, they could learn a great deal from him.
At the end, Moody even mentioned Harry Potter, giving him the highest of praise.
"Harry Potter already qualifies as a warrior, just not quite a competent one yet."
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