Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Author's Chapter Notes:
Harry and Draco meet the DADA teacher...

This was beta'd by the wonderful EllaElenie! Thanks Ella!! :D
Chapter 38: The Dark Arts Professor

The next morning, after sleeping so soundly, Harry woke up to find that he was running late. He shot up out of bed and grabbed his glasses and shoved them on his face. Looking at the clock on his nightstand, he realized he had slept in by twenty minutes, which meant that his father was going to be there to get him in ten. “Shit!” Harry mumbled as he hurriedly grabbed his clothes.

Racing over to the bathroom door, Harry found to his distress, that it was locked. Snapping his head over to his roommate’s side of the room, Harry discovered that Malfoy was already up and had apparently locked himself into the lavatory. It was typical Malfoy decided to get up early the day Harry was running  late!

Pounding on the door with his fist, Harry scowled darkly at the wood in between him and the shower. “Hurry up, Malfoy! I need to get ready!” he called out.

There was no reply, meaning that either Malfoy had not heard him or he was ignoring Harry. Either way, it irritated Harry so much that he almost decided to spell open the door anyway. Snape was never a very patient man, and Harry had no desire to find out what the Professor would do if he were late. Would he give him a detention, or just lecture him on the merits of being punctual?

“Hurry up, Malfoy!” Harry shouted, hitting the door harder.

“Shut up, Potter!” came a nasty reply. “I just got in here!”

“Well I’m supposed to leave in eight minutes,” Harry retorted. “Get out of there! You can have time after I leave!”

Once more, there came no reply, and Harry was furious. Why did it have to be Malfoy his father was godfather of? Why not someone else? Anyone else would have been fine, but no, it had to be Malfoy! His father must have been wrong about the blonde, Draco Malfoy was not some sad victim in the game of life. He was an exploiter of others, manipulating life and everything else to his advantage. Malfoy definitely did not need Snape to watch over him, too. As far as any of them knew, Malfoy was probably plotting to kill the Potions Master.

“Hurry up!” Harry pounded on the door once more, furiously.  

A moment later, the door opened to reveal a well-groomed looking Draco. The blonde smirked wickedly at Harry before walking over to his bed to put on his shoes. Harry spared only a second to scowl at the other boy before he rushed into the lavatory to get ready. He only had five minutes!

Knowing he wouldn’t have time for a proper shower, Harry started the sink and began getting dressed. Scrambling and fumbling, the boy changed before he stuck his hair under the sink and washed it. It wasn’t the best job he’d ever done washing his hair, but at the moment, he didn’t really care. And even though he would have loved to take a shower, he did not want to take longer than necessary. He would not get a lecture today. He would not!

After rinsing his head once more, Harry dried it quickly with a light spell, not caring that it was particularly unruly that day. He put on a bit of extra cologne a nd brushed his teeth all at the same time, before he burst out of the bathroom and to his bed where he yanked on his shoes.

“Merlin, Potter!” Draco exclaimed when the door slammed up against the wall. Truthfully, Draco didn’t know how anyone could get ready so fast, but he knew that the other boy was at least clean from the looks of his hair, which was no longer greasy from the night.

Scowling at the blonde, but not wasting a moment, Harry crammed his books into his bag before he looked around the room, trying to figure out what else he needed. Not able to think of a thing as he had his glasses, wand, and books, the raven-haired boy all but sprinted out of the room.

Draco watched him go; a bit disappointed that he had not been able to make Potter late.

Running up the stairs, Harry skidded to a halt in the C ommon Room before his father. The Potions Master scowled down at him before turning to walk out of the portal door. Harry followed, cursing Malfoy under his breath. Little fink! Harry thought darkly. I’ll have to think of something to get you in trouble with Snape.

Once out in the hall, Severus turned to look at his son. The boy’s hair was wild and he seemed to be panting a bit. The boy’s shirt was not tucked in very well, nor was his tie tied correctly. The boy’s trainers were also untied, and for a moment Severus found himself worrying that Harry would trip on the stairs and break something. Severus knew from experience what it was like falling down the stairs, and he certainly did not want his son to have to face such an occurrence.

“Tie your shoes,” Severus growled at the boy. His worrying always came out harsher than he intended it to.

Sighing, Harry set his bag aside and knelt down to quickly tie his trainers. Harry scowled fiercely at his shoes, and it was amazing that he did not set them on fire. He was so angry with Malfoy that he wasn’t sure how he was going to manage the day. It was so unfortunate that they had all their classes together today. Harry would have dearly loved to just get away from the blonde for several hours, but no, it was his luck that he got stuck with the fink all day.

Had such an event not taken place first thing in the morning, Harry would not have minded so much, and would have probably let it go, seeing as it really was not that big of a deal. But if there was one thing that Harry had learned when coming to Hogwarts and not having to sleep in a cupboard or do chores all day, was that he was not a morning person. He liked to stay up late at night and then get up later in the morning. Despite all this, he still had to get up early, which he did quite gracefully if he could say so himself, as long as he had a schedule. It was when Harry’s schedule was broke or interrupted when his true displeasure with the early hours showed the most.

Once the younger wizard was up, the two Slytherins walked down the hall and up towards breakfast. Noticing that his son was less than pleased with something, Severus decided that it was his duty as a father and also as the boy’s Head of House to find out what was wrong. The boy really did look angry.

“Why were you late this morning?” he asked softly, not wanting his voice to carry.

“Because of Draco Bloody Malfoy, that’s why!” Harry growled viciously. “He locked himself into the bathroom all morning and wouldn’t come out and he was just trying to make sure that I wouldn’t be on time to meet you, the prat!” he finished angrily.

Severus was pleased that he had limited his reaction to a mere raise of the eyebrow. And here he had been worried that the boy wouldn’t want to open up and talk to him. Although normally Severus did not like being proven wrong, he was pleased for it this one instance. Slowly Severus was starting to piece together the puzzle that was his teenage son, but he did know now for certain that Harry would talk openly if he could complain about Draco. That could be something useful in the future.

“He got up earlier than you just to make sure you were late?” the Potions Master asked. He could not really see Draco doing such a thing only because the blonde never wanted to get up in the mornings for anything, so for him getting up earlier than Harry just to spite the other boy was really taking the extra step for the blonde.

“Well…I did get up late, but he made sure he was taking his sweet time getting ready this morning,” Harry grumbled. “I told him I needed to get ready but he just took all the time in the world!”

“Hmm,” was all Severus thought he should say. He had no doubt that Draco would try and detain Harry if he thought it would get the former Gryffindor into trouble, but it was partially Harry’s fault if he didn’t get up. Draco would use anything to his advantage; even a few minutes time could be just what the Slytherin would need.

“He’s such a prat!” Harry growled on. “He just…he just does everything to sabotage me!”

“No doubt,” Severus said easily, shocking Harry enough so that the boy looked up at his father in confusion. “You should not give him anything to work with,” he clarified.

“It’s not my fault!” Harry stopped and crossed his arms. “He just…he’s always trying to get me into trouble for anything! He’s just so annoying!”

“He’s only being a nuisance because he knows he can annoy you so easily,” the Potions Master thought back to himself at that age and of James Potter and Sirius Black. “Ignore him or pretend that you’re not bothered by him and he’ll lose interest soon enough.”

“That’s always what Hermione tells me,” the younger wizard grumbled.

Frowning, Severus pushed his son forward so that they were walking again. “Well she’s right,” he was slightly pained to have to admit that the little know-it-all was right, but the advice was good…for once. “Anyone can see that it is true if they’ve ever watched animals.”

“You’re comparing Draco to an animal?” Harry smiled wickedly. “Does that mean I can call him a swine without you yelling at me?”

Although Severus wanted to inform him that if the term animal applied to Draco it very well could apply to him as well, he restrained himself. At least the boy had stopped scowling. “Just don’t let me hear it, but otherwise I really don’t care.” He could let his son have his momentary victory. After all, Severus had had much worse names for the Marauders. Much worse. If Harry could be appeased with ‘swine’ then Severus supposed that there were worse words.

Smiling more menacingly by the minute, Harry decided that he liked talking to his father. While Severus had been rather stuffy, treating him like he’d never been on his own before at first, he was coming to realize that the man could also be rather open. It pleased Harry to know that his father was not going to chastise him for either disliking Draco or calling him names. For a moment, Harry was reminded of what he had always thought an older brother would do. Could parents also be fun like this too, or was Severus still not used to being a father quite yet?

“I did, however, want to warn you about Moody,” Severus went on.

No, Severus was definitely more like a father than a brother, Harry decided. “What about him?”

“I don’t think you should speak in his class unless spoke to,” the Potions Master’s face took on a very grim countenance. “He’s an ex-Auror and not to be messed with.”

“If he’s an ex-Auror, then why do I need to worry about him?” Harry frowned. “He should like me since I destroyed Voldemort years ago.”

Snape flinched slightly at the name of his former master, but made sure that he quickly regained his composer. “Perhaps, but I do not know if his magical eye can see through your glamours.”

“What?” Harry looked up at his father, horrified.

“The spell that your mother created is much different than many of the traditional glamours, so I am not sure what he can see,” Severus explained. “I assume he cannot see through it since he has not commented upon it as of yet, but I do not know what all that eye of his can do or what he would do to you if he could see through it.”

Harry suddenly became afraid. He had never thought about someone looking through his glamours, primarily because he had been wearing it all of his life and no one had seen through it yet. But could this magicked eye see that he was not really a Potter but a Snape? He did not want to find out what would happen.

And again, another thought plagued the boy. “Sir? When Moody came here, you…uh, you made it clear that you don’t like him.”

Harry watched as his father’s dark eyes seemed to cloud over for a moment and the black eyes seemed to become blacker. “No. I do not,” Snape said tightly.

Swallowing, Harry decided to go on. “But, sir…why don’t you like him?”

Turning on Harry so quickly the boy almost fell backwards, Snape leaned down to face the boy. “Alastor Moody may have been an Auror and part of Dumbledore’s blasted Order, but that does not mean that he is a good person, Harry,” the Potions Master’s eyes burned with a cold fire. “Even ‘heroes’ can abuse their power.”

A shiver ran down Harry’s spine as he looked into his father’s furious, and yet pained, face. That’s when everything suddenly came together for Harry. He had not had much time to think over it due to his own personal life crisis, but now that he stared at his father, it all suddenly made sense. Alastor Moody was an Auror, his father had been a Death Eater before he had turned spy, Dumbledore had said that his father had been arrested, his father had been so upset over Moody being hired by the school that he threatened to leave, his father was worried over him because of Moody…

“Sir?” Harry asked very quietly. “Did Moody…was he the one that arrested you?”

Snape recoiled instantly at the statement as though he’d been slapped. He stared down at his son with a blank expression for a long moment. Although he had known the clues to his imprisonment had been lying around for Harry to easily pick up, Severus could not deny that he had been hoping the boy would be too concerned over his own affairs to worry about him. He had not wanted his son to know that he had gone to prison but as always, Dumbledore had made sure that all private information he had was exploited.

Severus did not want Harry to worry over him, not when his own personal life was not going so well, but the boy did look determined. “Yes,” he answered shortly. “But you should not concern yourself over what happened years ago.”

The two continued to walk until they were to the Great Hall. They remained silent, and once Harry was safely seated at his table, Severus walked towards his own seat where he could look after the boy. Harry might have known that his father had been in prison, but Severus would be damned before he let on to just how terrible his imprisonment had really been.

*******

All day long Harry had to walk from class to class with the worry of his new teacher, Professor Moody, the uneasiness that this man had arrested his father, and having to put up with the annoying rat that was Draco Malfoy. While Malfoy did not do anything that would warrant a detention or the wrath of Snape, he was pushing his luck as far as Harry was concerned. But what the former Gryffindor could not understand was how the blonde could be making all those rude comments, flicking paper at his head every now and then and somehow still keep the other Slytherins off of him. Did Malfoy really have that much influence?

By the afternoon, Harry was standing on his last leg. He was furious with his roommate and yet knew that if he punched Malfoy in the face his father would be less than pleased. He might have been the Potions Master’s son, but that did not mean the man would spare him a detention. Snape would probably give him more just because of the fact!

But when it came time for Defense class, all the Slytherins were a bit nervous. No one knew much about Moody as a professor, but they all seemed to have a good understanding of Moody as an Auror. And since more of the Fourth Year Slytherins had Death Eater parents, Harry included he was stunned to realize, Moody might not be as forgiving to them as he would be over all of the other Houses.

The door opened to reveal the mangled looking man himself. The wooden leg echoed faintly off the walls of the room. Once before the c lass, the former Auror looked over his class with his mismatched eyes, scowling at all of them. Harry’s blood ran cold when the magicked eye stared at him.

The Professor simply stared at all of the students for a moment, as if trying to look for Dark Marks. “As you all know,” Moody barked to the class, “my name is Alastor Moody. I expect you all to call me either Professor Moody or sir. Nothing else for you,” he glared hard at all of them once more. “And I expect you all to get your homework to me on time, without any of you trying to talk your way out of it,” he glared particularly at Malfoy.

The old Auror walked towards the board, his speech seemingly having been forgotten, until he turned on the class once more with his wand in hand. “Now, you all know that there are three Unforgivable Curses in the wizarding world.”

Caught off guard, all of the students scrambled to get out their parchment and quills to take notes. Continuing to glare, Moody looked about the room, his scared face was enough to keep even the liveliest Slytherin down. “I’m sure you can all name these curses,” he mocked, “so, Mr. Malfoy,” he turned towards the blonde, his stance threatening. “Name one.”

For once, Draco did not look even remotely comfortable. His gray eyes were a bit wide, but he fought valiantly to keep the fear out of them, though Harry could see it, and he was sure Moody could too. “The Imperius Curse,” he answered trying to sound uncaring, but it did not come out as so.

“Yes, you would mention that one,” Moody smiled nastily. “Your parents were under the Imperius in the First War, were they not?”

Draco colored, but nodded his head, looking like he would much rather die than have to sit there in class with the ex-Auror. For just a moment, Harry found himself pitying Malfoy, but as soon as he realized what he was doing, he shoved all those feelings away and decided that the blonde deserved it. After all his parents were bad. Harry’s father had redeemed himself, realized that he had made a mistake and had turned to the Light. Draco deserved no pity for what was only true.

“You, Nott!” Moody growled, calling out another victim. “Name another curse.” It almost sounded like a dare.

The quiet boy seemed to have paled a shade or two, but he gulped down his fear a bit better than Malfoy. “The Cruciatus Curse,” he answered bravely, yet he was very quiet.

Moody, again, smiled nastily at Nott, like he had done to Malfoy only a moment ago. “Yes,” he nodded. “I knew of one Death Eater that was particularly good at this curse. So good, he actually got a rather interesting reputation out of it. Didn’t he, Mr. Nott?”

Much like Draco, Theodore looked ill, his color draining from his face as he snapped his eyes down to look at the top of his desk.

The room was eerily silent as all the students prayed that Moody would not choose them next. There was something about the man that Harry did not trust. His father had been right though, on this score; Moody did not seem to be the type of man that should teach children. Not that Snape had been much better, but at least he hadn’t called every student out on what their parents had done…just Harry…and now Harry realized that all of those insults fell away considering every time the Potions Master told Harry how stupid his father was it was really referring to Snape. Ironic.

“There is one more curse,” Moody scanned the room. “Anyone care to take a guess?” he sneered. “Mr. Potter.”

Taking a gulp, Harry did his best to use a bit of Gryffindor courage, even though he was no longer one. “The Killing Curse?”

“Yes,” the Professor nodded. “The Killing Curse or more correctly, the Avada Kedavra.” The way the man said it made Harry squirm with discomfort. “Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed.” He almost seemed like he was mocking everyone in the room, daring them to try.

“Now,” Moody walked to his desk and took up a jar. Inside, Harry noticed was a spider. “Let’s see how these curses work, shall we?”

Moody unscrewed the lid of the jar and levitated the spider out onto the desk and enlarged it so that it looked more like one of the spiders that came from Hagrid’s old pet, Aragog. “Imperio!”

The class watched in stunned amazement as the Professor began to make the spider dance around on the desk like it was a tap dancer. At first, no one knew what to think as they were torn between knowing that the curse was ultimately bad and laughing at the silly antics Moody was having the creature perform. It was only when the spider began to squeal in protest did the snickers begin to die down.

The smile that had graced Moody’s gnarled face as he used the Imperius curse suddenly vanished as he screamed, “Crucio!

The spider instantly let out a terrible scream of pain, its body wreathing in agony. And even though most of the children in the room had Death Eater parents, none of them laughed as they watched the innocent creature being tortured in front of them. In fact, several of the more prominent Death Eater children had to look away. They did not like to be reminded of what their parents actually did to other people.

“Stop it!” It surprised Harry that it was Draco that shouted out for the Professor to stop.

Moody let out what sounded a bit like a giggle before he ended his torture. The spider sagged in relief and twitched from its damaged nerves. But just as all the students began looking forward again, Moody suddenly yelled, “Avada Kedavra!

With wide, horrified eyes, the students watched as the spider ceased to move. They all looked towards the creature’s murderer and found the man sneering back at all of them. Several of the girls had tears in their eyes, not because they particularly liked spiders, but to see any creature tortured so extensively before it finally met a painful end did not appeal to any of them. 

“See what can be done with the Dark Arts?” Moody asked, a mad twinkle in his good eye. “Just remember that when any of you wants to make mischief,” he growled.

The room fell silent and Harry could not help but pale as the threat was issued. His hands shook ever so slightly as he fought to keep from falling out of his chair just from the astonishment. He did not like the demonstration at all. The flash of green light reminded him too much of the nightmares he had of his mother’s death.

“Only one person’s survived the Killing Curse,” Moody went on. “And he’s sitting in this room.”

Everyone who could tear their eyes away from Moody looked to Harry. The raven-haired boy did not like the attention in the least. He did not like all eyes on him, especially since he was not quite at his best at the moment. His hands were still trembling, but he grasped them underneath his desk so that no one would notice.

“I wonder how you did it, Mr. Potter,” Moody said as he walked close to Harry. “But I do not believe you could do it again.”

As the ex-Auror walked to the board, Harry let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He chanced to look over and locked eyes with Draco. The two boys were both pale, and it was in that moment that, despite their disagreements and their childish acts that morning, they both realized that they were going to have to be very careful, lest they incur the wrath of Moody. And in that one silent glance, they seemed to both agree not to do anything to each other in that class because they had no desire to know what the crazed new DADA Professor would do to them.

Chapter End Notes:
So Harry has met the new teacher and doesn't like him. You'll see just how much everyone loves Moody next time.

There are a few actual HP quotes in here from Moody.

Let me know what you think. Thanks to everyone who does! :)

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