Daisy Potter and You-Know-Poo's Return (Book 4, Harry Potter ff)

Chapter 9 - Wet Dreams

🍭🍭smut in this chapter and others after it🍭🍭

The next two days passed without great incident, unless you counted my wet dream about Fred, which left me feeling quite strange and tingly every time I looked at him, and Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. Snape, who seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer, gave Neville detention, and Neville returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrelful of horned toads.

"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" Ron said to Harry and I in the Gryffindor common room, as we watched Hermione teaching Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the toad guts from under his fingernails.

"Yeah." Harry said. "Moody."

Snape did seem to act rather strange around Moody. Whenever I saw the two of them together - at mealtimes or when they passed in the corridors - I had the distinct impression that Snape was avoiding Moody's eye, whether magical or normal.

"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know." I said thoughtfully.

"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad." Ron said, his eyes misting over. "And bounced him all around his dungeon..."

Us Gryffindor fourth-years were looking forward to Moody's first lesson so much that we arrived early after lunch on Thursday - the only time the Gryffindor section of our class had ever turned up first or even early - and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung, messing around and snickering.

"You can put those away." Moody growled when the class hurried in with all our books when the bell rang. "You won't be needing them."

We returned our books to our bags excitedly.

Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled grey hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swivelled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.

"Right then." He said when the last person had declared themselves present. "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered Boggarts, Red Caps, Hinkypunks, Grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses." Moody said. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark -"

"What, aren't you staying?" Terry blurted out.

"Yeah, I'm staying just the one year." Moody replied. "Special favour to Dumbledore... one year, and then  back to my quiet retirement."

He gave a harsh laugh and he clapped his gnarled hands together.

"So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic -" "Stuff the Ministry, lmao -" "I'm supposed to teach you counter-curses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it 'til then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Mr Boot, when I'm talking."