The Marauders: Year One | #Wattys2016

A Bad Mood

A Bad Mood

The school was abuzz in no time about the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes being held. Every class that went in there came out raving about Professor Alastor Moody, who was a real Auror for the Ministry of Magic. The Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors were beside themselves with awe and excitement as they cycled through the classes, but the Slytherins seemed less impressed.

In fact, the day that the seventh year Slytherins were in Defense, Lucius Malfoy came back to the common room in a right state, his face flushed with anger. "Bloody muggle lover," he hissed as he slammed his book bag rather violently into the staircase, the fabric bursting open and his quills and parchment going every which way. Severus watched as he stormed up the stairs. Narcissa stood at the bottom until his dormitory door had been slammed shut and quietly cast the spells to collect Lucius's things and repair the book bag.

"What's the matter with him?" asked Mulciber, who was sitting on the couch, cheating at gobstones against Avery.

Narcissa sighed and turned back to look at them. "That new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," she replied, scowling, "Apparently he said something nasty about Lucius's father... He wouldn't tell me what the old dragon said, though."

Avery scowled. "That old man is a real duffer," he muttered.

"Yeah, I didn't like him, neither," agreed Mulciber. "Going on about how many of us had family in Azkaban because of him... Half the class or more!"

"Someone ought to put him in Azkaban," muttered Avery, "Puttin' magic blood behind bars for protectin' ourselves from the muggles. It ain't right. Muggles been killin' magic folk for centuries, we try'n protect ourselves, try'n protect our bloodlines, and we're locked away for it."

"Nothin' the Dark Lord won't be takin' care of when he's in power, is it?" Mulciber pointed out rather darkly.

Severus, who'd been doing homework at the table in the common room, swallowed back his nerves, afraid of the new Defense teacher. He had heard mostly only the Slytherin opinions of Moody, though he had gotten a couple minutes alone with Lily, in which she had told him that, though Moody was brilliant, he did have a rough exterior. "I expect he would have to, being a police man and all," she said.

"Auror," Severus corrected her, "He's an Auror. We're wizards, Lily, we don't have police men like Muggles."

Lily had narrowed her eyes at the tone Severus had said the words 'muggles' in. "Are you saying there's something wrong with muggles, then?" she demanded.

Severus had correctly interpreted her tone to mean he oughtn't say more about muggles and wizards and the differences between them, and he shut up and changed the subject.

Now it was his turn to go to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom for the first time since Moody had replaced Tutman. He approached the wing with apprehension, along with Evan Rosier, whose usual, scowling face was even more severe. Evan sat down beside Severus near to the front of the room, though Evan angled his chair a bit away from him, as though wishing not to be associated with Severus Snape.

Alastor Moody had been in the Great Hall for meals, seated at the staff table where Tutman bad been, but never eating, only staring over at the Slytherin table, his one eye flicking across them beadily. Consequently, none of the first year Slytherins were surprised by Moody's eyepatch or the messy, unkempt look to his hair. His nose was a bit crooked (obviously it had been broken more than once in his time as an Auror), and the way his eyes moved slowly over the lot of them gave Severus the chills, as though Moody could see clear through their skin and to their bones and the soul within... clear to the secrets they kept hidden there in the core of themselves. They sat in the classroom, staring up at Moody, who stood behind the desk, staring back at them, frowning.

"First year Slytherins," he mumbled, walking across the front of the room, his feet shuffling as he moved, robes swooshing. He gazed upon each of their faces in turn, ending with Severus. "Some of you have already made up your minds about where you stand with the dark arts," he said slowly, "Or had your mind made up for you." He ran his palm over his chin. "Others of you are still young, still have a chance to make up yer own minds... to chose to hold onto the light in you."

Severus looked around, wondering who had their minds made up among the students. He wasn't sure which he was. Many of the others had set their jaws resolutely, eyes hardened, and Severus had a feeing they were the ones decided. He looked back to Moody, wishing fervently that Lily were there and he could ask her what she thought of what Moody had said.

"I'm sure you lot know perfectly well who He Who Must Not Be Named is and don't need me educating you about who the Death Eaters are, as the other houses did," Moody grumbled.

There wasn't a sound in the room, not a movement.

"Half your fathers are Death Eaters already, and some of your mothers as well. Some of you have been groomed since you were born to be recruited into the servitude of You Know Who."

Severus shifted.

Moody looked at him, zeroing in on the only person who had dared to move in the whole room. "Some of you may have already begun your work for him."

Severus felt a lump rise up in his throat. Did Moody know? Suspect, at least? Had Dumbledore told him about the things those Gryffindor first years had accused him and Lucius of? Was he now being watched? Anxiety built up in him.

By the time class let out, Severus had worked himself into a right state and was glad to get out of there. He pushed past Evan Rosier, who was muttering to a couple other Slytherins about the terribleness of Moody. Down to the dungeons he rushed, not even pausing when he passed Lily in the corridor headed down to dinner in the Great Hall. "Sev?" she called as she rushed by, "What's the matter?" He didn't even slow down. There was only one person in the castle he could talk to about what was on his mind.

Lucius Malfoy was scowling when he opened the door to the seventh year's dormitories. He stared down his nose at Severus and hissed, "What?"

"Moody," Severus said, "I've just come from his class."

Lucius's voice was low, cautious, "...and?"

"Do you think he might know? About... you know, – You-Know-Who?"

Lucius's voice was sharp, "Do not call him that!"

"Sorry," Severus muttered.

"He is the Dark Lord," he said, his face red with anger. "And I don't give a damn if Moody does know!" Lucius flared up at once. "I hope he does, rather! Let that old duffer try and stop me furthering the cause! I'd die before I stopped!" Lucius's face was resolved. "It isn't a bad thing to be proud of my blood! Of being a wizard! The Dark Lord's agenda isn't anything that shouldn't have been implemented the moment the Statute of Secrecy was!" His face was hard, "Wizards are superior! Muggles are a threat – they're a danger. They're vicious; they're filthy! Common. And they don't deserve to benefit from our powers or to posses them. Only wizards ought to be taught to do magic, only wizards ought to be allowed to have magic at all! It's our gift, it's what makes us special. If Moody hasn't got respect for that, then he's a brainless git. And so is Dumbledore!"

Severus nodded, unsure what else to do or say, afraid of the way Lucius seemed to grow darker and more ominous as he shouted.

"If Moody thinks babbling on about being an Auror in Defense is going to stop the Dark Lord from rising to power, then he has got another thing coming. The Dark Lord will not be stopped! He will rule over the Wizarding world and, when he does, we will be rewarded most handsomely, Severus, we who stood by him and defied the fools who dared to doubt Voldemort's power!"

On the stairs behind them, a couple of fourth years were glancing over at Severus and Lucius's form in the open door of the seventh year dorm room. "What are you looking at?" sneered Lucius, his voice practically a hiss.

"Nothing," one of the fourth years replied, but the lot of them rushed up the stairs without a look back, which was wise, as Lucius had withdrawn his wand to hex them.