Chapter 187
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Slytherin's first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the semester came rather late.
Their class was scheduled only after the other houses had already completed their first lessons.
According to the nature of the house, Slytherin students were probably the ones most eager for this subject.
Ambition and competitiveness ran deep in their blood.
Because of that, they were extremely curious about this Auror-turned-teacher, and they were filled with anticipation for the lessons ahead.
Of course, there were no true secrets among students.
The content of Moody's classes had already spread throughout the school.
The first- and second-years were still learning theory as usual.
But the third- and fourth-years had already witnessed something extraordinary.
Moody had demonstrated the Unforgivable Curses.
The older students had even been forced to engage in mock combat with the veteran Auror—similar to what they had experienced with Professor Lupin the previous year.
However, Moody's methods were far harsher.
Madam Pomfrey, who was responsible for treating injured students, had already begun complaining.
Ever since this new teacher arrived, the number of injuries in the hospital wing had increased dramatically.
"We volunteered for it," many students insisted through gritted teeth while receiving treatment.
At the same time, they defended their teacher.
Clearly, the old Auror's battle-hardened presence gave him tremendous authority.
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The stories circulating among students only made the Slytherins more excited.
The Unforgivable Curses.
Even among pure-blood families, most wizarding parents had never actually used those spells.
Seeing them with their own eyes was an extremely rare opportunity.
After all, anyone known to have used such magic was either imprisoned in Azkaban or living as a fugitive.
Although the older students had warned them that Moody rarely used textbooks in class, the Slytherins still brought their copies of "The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection."
They sat quietly, waiting.
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"How ironic," Malfoy thought.
He gazed out the window absentmindedly while waiting for Moody to arrive.
Apart from Lupin, this man might be the most competent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Hogwarts had had in years.
According to the original course of events:
In the first year, the teacher had been secretly possessed by Voldemort.
In the second year, the teacher had been a complete fraud.
In the third year, Lupin had managed to restore some credibility to the subject, though his gentle nature prevented him from fully exposing the cruelty of Dark Magic.
In the fifth year, the position would fall to a certain pink toad from the Ministry.
In the sixth year, Snape would finally take the role, though his teaching results would be mixed.
And in the seventh year, the position would be held by an outright Death Eater.
Looking at it this way, the most capable teachers during their time at Hogwarts were probably the ones in the third and fourth years.
Ironically, one of them was a loyal Death Eater, and the other was a werewolf.
A rather dark joke.
Malfoy closed his eyes and began thinking.
His relationship with the disguised "Moody" was far from genuine cooperation.
There was also competition between them.
Both of them wanted the same thing:
Voldemort's approval.
When the Dark Lord eventually returned, only those who had proven their value would stand close to him.
This meant that sooner or later, conflict between them was inevitable.
Malfoy could already foresee that Moody might deliberately make things difficult for him in the future.
Perhaps the man intended to prove his own worth by suppressing potential rivals.
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The classroom grew completely silent.
Soon they heard the unmistakable sound of Moody's footsteps in the corridor.
Clunk… drag… clunk…
Moody entered the classroom.
He looked just as strange and intimidating as always.
His claw-like wooden leg protruded from beneath his robe.
"Put those away," he said gruffly as he limped toward the desk.
"These textbooks."
"You won't need them."
The students quickly stuffed their books back into their bags.
Moody then began speaking methodically.
For someone transitioning from Auror to teacher, he adapted surprisingly well.
His teaching style might have been rough, but it was undeniably effective.
He picked up the class roster and shook his head, tossing his long white hair away from his scarred face.
His normal eye scanned the list while his magical eye spun constantly, examining every student in the room.
"Vincent Crabbe."
"Gregory Goyle."
The two students hurriedly stood up and sat back down again.
Even though Moody's gaze lingered on them for only a moment, cold sweat immediately formed on their backs.
The shameful reputations of their parents weighed heavily on them.
Moody continued down the list.
…
"Pansy Parkinson."
He paused and glanced around the classroom.
"Pansy Parkinson?"
He repeated the name.
Then he noticed the note beside it.
"Oh. Absent due to illness."
His normal eye seemed to read the explanation.
He nodded and circled the name on the roster.
"Draco Malfoy."
"Here, Professor Moody," Malfoy replied calmly.
Moody's magical eye began spinning again.
The two men's gazes met briefly.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
The corner of Moody's mouth twitched slightly.
Then he looked away as if nothing had happened.
"Well," Moody said, continuing the roll call.
"I received a letter from Professor Lupin describing what you studied last year."
"It seems you've learned quite a bit about dealing with Dark creatures."
"You've covered Boggarts, Red Caps, Hinkypunks, Grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, correct?"
The students murmured their agreement.
"But you haven't learned enough about spells," Moody said bluntly.
"Not nearly enough."
"So this year, I'm going to give you a taste of the spells used by Dark wizards."
"I have one year to teach you how to defend yourselves against Dark magic."
Then his tone suddenly became serious.
"But before that—"
Moody coughed heavily.
His magical eye twitched unsettlingly.
"There's something else we must discuss first."
Whispers immediately spread through the classroom.
This reaction was very different from the students who had already attended his lessons earlier in the week.