The stone corridors of Hogwarts echoed with Adrian's footsteps as he made his way toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office.
Standing in front of the heavy oak door that bore a simple nameplate reading "Professor A. Moody," Adrian raised his knuckles and delivered two knocks against the wood.
"Knock, knock."
"Come in."
Moody's voice came from behind the door as a low hoarse growl.
Adrian grasped the handle and pushed the door inside, stepping across the threshold before freezing in complete astonishment at the sight that met him.
The professor's office was disturbingly, almost aggressively empty.
Where other faculty members had filled their spaces with personal mementos, academic achievements, magical artifacts, and the comfortable clutter of long-term residence, Moody's space appeared almost monastically bare.
The stone walls stood naked of decoration, there were no certificates, no photographs, no shelves lined with interesting books or curious objects. The floor, typically covered with rugs or carpets in other professors' quarters, remained of cold stone.
The entire room's furnishings consisted of precisely five items: a small, wooden trunk that looked as though it had survived several wars, three mismatched wooden chairs, a simple wooden desk, and sitting in lonely splendor upon that desk's surface, a single Pensieve.
Nothing else. No personal touches, no signs of habitation, no indication that anyone actually lived and worked in this space.
"Where are all your belongings?" Adrian couldn't suppress the question, his voice carrying genuine bewilderment at the stark emptiness surrounding them.
"Everything's secured in the trunk," Moody replied straightforwardly as he rose from his chair.
His approach toward Adrian was marked by the rhythm of his wooden leg against stone. "I've learned through hard experience never to leave personal possessions scattered about in unfamiliar territory. Too many ways for enemies to gain advantages through examining a man's belongings."
His scarred face turned toward Adrian with what might have been curiosity. The magical eye rotated in its socket before fixing its blue gaze upon Adrian.
"Speaking of which, Professor Westeros, what brings you to my humble quarters this evening?" Moody's tone had a tone of warmth that seemed somewhat incompatible with his fearsome reputation.
"Simply thought I'd drop by for a friendly visit," Adrian replied with cautious briefness, not wanting to immediately reveal the task that had brought him here.
"Excellent, you're most welcome indeed." Moody's voice carried what sounded like genuine pleasure at having company, a reaction that struck Adrian as somewhat surprising.
This response caught Adrian off-guard. Based on the numerous rumors and stories that circulated about Mad-Eye Moody, he had anticipated encountering a paranoid, neurotic individual who viewed every interaction through the lens of potential threat and conspiracy.
Instead, while the man in front of him certainly possessed sharp, penetrating eyes that seemed to catalog every detail of their surroundings, his demeanor appeared remarkably calm and controlled. There was even a hint of genuine friendliness in his manner that contradicted his fearsome reputation.
Moody gestured toward one of the wooden chairs with a hand. Though the chair was undeniably hard and uncomfortable, lacking any cushioning or ergonomic considerations, it was at least functional seating.
Just as Adrian prepared to broach the delicate subject of the evening's conflict, Moody suddenly launched into conversation with typical directness.
"I've heard that during the Quidditch World Cup incident, you killed a Death Eater." His magical eye fixed unblinkingly on Adrian's face, clearly searching for any signs of dishonesty or evasion.
"A Death Eater?" Adrian shook his head with instant clarity, wanting to correct any misconceptions before they took root.
"I'm not certain where you got that information, but I must clarify, I didn't kill anyone during that chaos. While it's true that a Death Eater did die, it certainly wasn't by my hand. Other Death Eaters were responsible for that."
"Crabbe." Moody's natural eye narrowed to match the intensity of his magical replacement, the name emerging as a growl.
"Ah, yes, that's correct—Vincent Crabbe Senior," Adrian nodded with grim confirmation. "Someone cursed him with what appeared to be an extremely powerful explosive hex. He literally detonated right in front of me, like some grotesque firework display. The entire experience was... deeply unpleasant. Poor fellow never saw it coming."
"Poor?" Moody let out a sound that might charitably be called laughter, though it carried no warmth or humor, only cold, bitter satisfaction.
"I strongly advise you to abandon such naive sentiments, Professor. When You-Know-Who held power, Crabbe personally tortured numerous Muggle-born wizards to death, often for nothing more than his own sadistic entertainment. A creature like that belonged in Azkaban, sharing accommodations with the Dementors for the remainder of his miserable existence."
"You're absolutely right, of course," Adrian conceded, not wanting to pursue this particular line of discussion.
Adrian didn't want to express too many opinions on this matter, as he was kept recalling the scene of Crabbe's explosion, it made him somewhat nauseous, especially having just finished lunch.
Seeking to redirect the conversation toward his actual purpose, Adrian cleared his throat. "Professor McGonagall mentioned that this morning you and Professor Snape experienced some... unpleasantness in the Great Hall."
At the mention of this topic, Moody's entire demeanor shifted subtly. His already rigid posture became even more military, and both of his eyes were focused on Adrian with intensity.
"You should understand something," He said expressionlessly. "That fellow is a Death Eater, no different in essence from Crabbe or any of the other monsters who served You-Know-Who. If not for Dumbledore's personal guarantee, Snape should be rotting in Azkaban right now, providing entertainment for the Dementors."
He paused for a moment, allowing this statement to settle before continuing with rising passion.
"Do you want to know what I find most grotesquely ironic about this entire situation?" His voice began to carry heat, the calm facade cracking to reveal the burning resentment beneath.
"That man tortured innocent people with exquisitely painful potion combinations, creating suffering that lasted for hours or even days. And now—NOW—he's actually permitted to teach Potions to children. Children! The very subject he once used as an instrument of torture is now his official curriculum."
"Well..." Adrian said cautiously, "I agree, but Professor McGonagall asked me to tell you that you shouldn't be having conflicts inside Hogwarts castle."
"Ha!" Moody turned sharply, his magical eye spinning to stare directly at Adrian with unblinking intensity. "Are you suggesting that I'm somehow to blame for this morning's incident?"
"Oh, absolutely not," Adrian replied quickly, accompanied by a slight smile.
"What I'm suggesting is that you might consider finding alternative approaches to address your concerns. For instance, you could arrange to encounter Professor Snape outside the school grounds... I happen to know that at regular intervals each month, he travels to Diagon Alley or Knockturn Alley to procure specialized ingredients for his more advanced potions work."
Moody fell into thoughtful silence, his magical eye continuing its restless rotation while his natural eye remained fixed on some distant point. After several long moments, he slowly nodded with what appeared to be unwilling approval.
"That's actually quite a good suggestion,"
Adrian silently mourned for Professor Snape for few seconds in his heart.
Being specifically targeted by a veteran Auror with Moody's reputation for thoroughness and paranoia was undoubtedly going to create significant complications in one's life. Even someone with Snape's considerable skills and resources would find such attention extremely troublesome.
However, this arrangement should satisfy Professor McGonagall's primary concern. She had specifically requested that conflicts between Moody and Snape not occur within the school, she had made no mention of restrictions regarding off-campus encounters.
Technically, Adrian had fulfilled his mission while finding a solution that might actually reduce overall tension within the castle.
With the thorny subjects of Crabbe and Snape successfully crossed, the atmosphere in the sparse office relaxed considerably.
Moody even retrieved two mismatched teacups from his trunk, along with a small container of what he cheerfully admitted were tea leaves he had "borrowed" from the Auror headquarters' supply cabinet during his final visit.
As they sipped the surprisingly excellent tea, their conversation turned to more academic matters, specifically Moody's approach to teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"The students require significantly more intensive training than they're currently receiving," Moody said with thoughtful concern, his hands wrapped around his teacup for warmth.
"I've had the responsibility of training numerous rookie Aurors throughout my career, and I've observed the same fundamental problems repeatedly—they're too comfortable, too trusting, too naive about the realities of magical conflict.
If You-Know-Who returns, the vast majority of them will be completely incapable of protecting themselves or others."
His magical eye suddenly spun toward the office door, scanning for potential eavesdroppers or threats, before returning to focus on Adrian with intensity.
"The majority of students can't even perform basic defensive spells with adequate proficiency," He continued with growing frustration.
"They treat Defense Against the Dark Arts like any other academic subject—something to be memorized for examinations rather than life-saving skills they may need at any moment. They desperately need to develop genuine crisis awareness and the instinctive responses that might keep them alive when theory becomes reality."
"Hmm..." Adrian found himself struck by a sudden inspiration, though he wasn't entirely certain of its sense. "What would you think about exposing them to more authentic examples? Perhaps demonstrations of genuinely dangerous magic—like the Unforgivable Curses?"
Moody's magical eye stopped its constant rotation completely, fixing on Adrian with such intensity that it seemed capable of boring through solid stone.
For several seconds, the silence in the room was absolute.
"I don't believe that approach would be appropriate," He finally said, shaking his head seriously. "My role here is to educate and prepare these young people, not to traumatize them or spread unnecessary fear. There's a significant difference between building proper caution and creating paralyzing terror."
"You're absolutely right, I didn't think that suggestion through properly," Adrian acknowledged with a slight shrug.
In fact, he had thought Moody had already demonstrated the Unforgivable Curses to the students. Now it seemed that although Moody could be somewhat erratic at times, he was far more rational than he had imagined, at least he seemed to be so in front of him.
This further confirmed that the person before him was indeed the real Moody.
Adrian took another sip of the excellent "borrowed" tea and reexamined this elderly Auror.
"I heard you substitute for part of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes every year?" Moody took out his water flask and drank some water. "I heard it from the students."
"Oh, yes." Adrian replied. "Every year the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor ends up having some problems, you know, it's a cursed position."
"From what I've observed, you teach quite effectively," Moody said, deliberately avoiding any discussion of the curse. "Take Cedric Diggory, for example, do you remember him? He shows genuine promise as a potential Auror candidate."
"Every professor appreciates working with truly excellent students," Adrian smiled warmly.
He hadn't anticipated that Moody would take the initiative to compliment specific students, but this behavior showed that he was taking his teaching responsibilities seriously and paying careful attention to each student's development and potential.
"However!" Moody suddenly raised his voice with intensity. "Even the most naturally gifted students require more extensive and more practical training than they're currently receiving!"
"What specific changes do you have in mind?" Adrian asked with genuine curiosity, intrigued by the passion in his voice.
"Additional classes, significantly more classroom time," Moody replied, his breathing becoming heavier as his agitation increased.
"I intend to have a good discussion with Dumbledore about this critical matter. What these students need above all else is the practical ability to protect themselves and others. You should understand better than most that Death Eater activity is already increasing throughout Britain. There isn't much time remaining before You-Know-Who makes his return."
As if summoned by the ominous turn in their conversation, the wind outside suddenly intensified, causing the office windows to rattle violently in their frames.
Moody's head instantly snapped toward the window, both eyes focusing intently on the potential threat while his right hand moved with speed to grip his wand handle.
Only after several seconds of careful observation, during which he undoubtedly employed his magical eye's penetrating vision to scan for any actual dangers, did he gradually relax and return the wand to its position at his waist.
"That's certainly a reasonable suggestion," Adrian said thoughtfully. "However, I suspect Dumbledore will be reluctant to approve such changes. The students' academic schedules are already quite demanding, and adding additional mandatory classes might create more stress than benefit."
"Necessary! This is absolutely necessary!" Moody's voice became increasingly hoarse and agitated. His leg stamped against the stone floor with emphatic force. "These young people are going to face threats that most adult wizards can't handle! They need every possible advantage we can provide!"
After taking his leave from Moody's office, Adrian was walking through the castle corridors with a significantly altered understanding of the legendary Auror.
While Moody's emotional stability was indeed somewhat questionable, his rapid shifts between calm professionalism and intense agitation were clearly obvious but he appeared to be genuinely dedicated to his students' welfare and education.
His passion for their safety, while sometimes bordering on obsessive, seemed to stem from authentic concern rather than paranoid delusion.
The students under his instruction were undoubtedly learning valuable skills and gaining perspectives that no other professor could provide. His practical experience with Dark Magic and dangerous situations gave knowledge that purely academic instruction simply couldn't match.
At the end, Moody had also mentioned Harry Potter while talking about potential, giving him the highest praise.
"Harry Potter can already be called a warrior, but he's not quite ready and qualified yet."
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