?" Snape turned again to look at Moody, his hands still
outstretched, inches from Harry's chest.
"Meaning that Dumbledore's very interested to know who's got it in for that boy!"
said Moody, limping nearer still to the foot of the stairs. "And so am I, Snape . . .
very interested...." The torchlight flickered across his mangled face, so that the
scars, and the chunk missing from
his nose, looked deeper and darker than ever.
Snape was looking down at Moody, and Harry couldn't see the expression on his
face. For a moment, nobody moved or said anything. Then Snape slowly lowered
his hands.
"I merely thought," said Snape, in a voice of forced calm, "that if Potter was
wandering around after hours again ... it's an unfortunate habit of his ... he should
be stopped. For - for his own safety."
"Ah, I see," said Moody softly. "Got Potter's best interests at heart, have you?"
There was a pause. Snape and Moody were still staring at each other, Mrs. Norris
gave a loud meow, still peering around Filch's legs, looking for the source of
Harry's bubble-bath smell.
"I think I will go back to bed," Snape said curtly.
"Best idea you've had all night," said Moody. "Now, Filch, if you'll just give me
that egg-"
"No!" said Filch, clutching the egg as though it were his firstborn son. "Professor
Moody, this is evidence of Peeves' treachery!"
"It's the property of the champion he stole it from," said Moody. Hand it over,
now."
Snape swept downstairs and passed Moody without another word. Filch made a
chirruping noise to Mrs. Norris, who stared blankly at Harry for a few more
seconds before turning and following her master. Still breathing very fast. Harry
heard Snape walking away down the corridor; Filch handed Moody the egg and
disappeared from view too, muttering to Mrs. Norris. "Never mind. my sweet.. .
we'll see Dumbledore in the morning ... tell him what Peeves was up to...."
A door slammed. Harry was left staring down at Moody, who placed his staff on
the bottommost stair and started to climb laboriously toward him, a dull clunk on
every other step.
"Close shave. Potter," he muttered.
"Yeah ... I - er ... thanks," said Harry weakly.
"What is this thing?" said Moody, drawing the Marauder's Map out of his pocket
308
and unfolding it.
"Map of Hogwarts," said Harry, hoping Moody was going to pull him out of the
staircase soon; his leg was really hurting him.
"Merlins beard," Moody whispered, staring at the map, his magical eye going
haywire. "This . .. this is some map. Potter!"
"Yeah, its . . . quite useful," Harry said. His eyes were starting to water from the
pain. "Er - Professor Moody, d'you think you could help me - ?"
"What? Oh! Yes . . . yes, of course . .."
Moody took hold of Harrys arms and pulled; Harrys leg came free of the trick
step, and he climbed onto the one above it. Moody was still gazing at the map.
"Potter ..." he said slowly, "you didn't happen, by any chance, to see who broke
into Snapes office, did you? On this map, I mean?"
"Er . . . yeah, I did . . ." Harry admitted. "It was Mr. Crouch."
Moodys magical eye whizzed over the entire surface of the map. He looked
suddenly alarmed.
"Crouch?" he said. "You're - you're sure. Potter?"
"Positive," said Harry.
"Well, he's not here anymore," said Moody, his eye still whizzing over the map.
"Crouch . .. that's very - very interesting... ."
He said nothing for almost a minute, still staring at the map. Harry could tell that
this news meant something to Moody and very much wanted to know what it was.
He wondered whether he dared ask. Moody scared him slightly. . . yet Moody had
just helped him avoid an awful lot of trouble. . . .
"Er ... Professor Moody . . . why d'you reckon Mr. Crouch wanted to look around
Snapes office?"
Moodys magical eye left the map and fixed, quivering, upon Harry. It was a
penetrating glare, and Harry had the impression that Moody was sizing him up,
wondering whether to answer or not, or how much to tell him.
"Put it this way. Potter," Moody muttered finally, "they say old Mad-Eye's
obsessed with catching Dark wizards . . . but I'm nothing - nothing - compared to
Barty Crouch."
He continued to stare at the map. Harry was burning to know more.
"Professor Moody?" he said again. "D'you think... could this have anything to do
with . . . maybe Mr. Crouch thinks there's something going on. ..."
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"Like what?" said Moody sharply.
Harry wondered how much he dare say. He didn't want Moody to guess that he
had a source of information outside Hogwarts; that might lead to tricky questions
about Sirius.
"I don't know," Harry muttered, "odd stuffs been happening lately, hasn't it? It's
been in the Daily Prophet... the Dark Mark at the World Cup, and the Death Eaters
and everything...."
Both of Moody's mismatched eyes widened.
"You're a sharp boy. Potter," he said. His magical eye roved back to the
Marauder's Map. "Crouch could be thinking along those lines," he said slowly.
"Very possible. . . there have been some funny rumors flying around lately -
helped along by Rita Skeeter, of course. It's making a lot of people nervous, I
reckon." A grim smile twisted his lopsided mouth. "Oh if there's one thing I hate,"
he muttered, more to himself than to Harry, and his magical eye was fixed on the
left-hand corner of the map, "its a Death Eater who walked free. ..."
Harry stared at him. Could Moody possibly mean what Harry thought he meant?
"And now I want to ask you a question. Potter," said Moody in a more
businesslike tone.
Harrys heart sank; he had thought this was coming. Moody was going to ask
where he had got this map, which was a very dubious magical object - and the
story of how it had fallen into his hands incriminated not only him, but his own
father, Fred and George Weasley, and Professor Lupin, their last Defense Against
the Dark Arts teacher. Moody waved the map in front of Harry, who braced
himself-
"Can I borrow this?"
"Oh!" said Harry.
He was very fond of his map, but on the other hand, he was extremely relieved
that Moody wasn't asking where he'd got it, and there was no doubt that he owed
Moody a favor.
"Yeah, okay."
"Good boy," growled Moody. "I can make good use of this . .. this might be
exactly what I've been looking for. . . . Right, bed, Potter, come on, now. ..."
They climbed to the top of the stairs together, Moody still examining the map as
though it was a treasure the like of which he had never seen before. They walked
in silence to the door of Moody's office, where he stopped and looked up at Harry.
"You ever thought of a career as an Auror, Potter?"
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"No," said Harry, taken aback.
"You want to consider it," said Moody, nodding and looking at Harry thoughtfully.
"Yes, indeed ... and incidentally ... I'm guessing you werent Just taking that egg for
a walk tonight?"
"Er - no," said Harry, grinning. "I've been working out the clue."
Moody winked at him, his magical eye going haywire again. "Nothing like a
nighttime stroll to give you ideas, Potter. . .. See you in the morning...."
He went back into his office, staring down at the Marauders Map again, and closed
the door behind him.
Harry walked slowly back to Gryffindor Tower, lost in thought about Snape, and
Crouch, and what it all meant.... Why was Crouch pretending to be ill, if he could
manage to get to Hogwarts when he wanted to? What did he think Snape was
concealing in his office?
And Moody thought he. Harry, ought to be an Auror! Interesting idea.. . but
somehow. Harry thought, as he got quietly into his four-poster ten minutes later,
the egg and the cloak now safely back in his trunk, he thought he'd like to check
how scarred the rest of them were before he chose it as a career.
311
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - THE SECOND TASK
You said you'd already worked out that egg clue!" said Hermione indignantly.
"Keep your voice down!" said Harry crossly. "I just need to - sort of fine-tune it,
all right?"
He, Ron, and Hermione were sitting at the very back of the Charms class with a
table to themselves. They were supposed to be practicing the opposite of the
Summoning Charm today - the Banishing Charm. Owing to the potential for nasty
accidents when objects kept flying across the room. Professor Flitwick had given
each student a stack of cushions on which to practice, the theory being that these
wouldn't hurt anyone if they went off target. It was a good theory, but it wasn't
working very well. Neville's aim was so poor that he kept accidentally sending
much heavier things flying across the room - Professor Flitwick, for instance.
"Just forget the egg for a minute, all right?" Harry hissed as Professor Flitwick
went whizzing resignedly past them, landing on top of a large cabinet. "I'm trying
to tell you about Snape and Moody. ..."
This class was an ideal cover for a private conversation, as everyone was having
far too much fun to pay them any attention. Harry had been recounting his
adventures of the previous night in whispered installments for the last half hour.
"Snape said Moodys searched his office as well?" Ron whispered, his eyes alight
with interest as he Banished a cushion with a sweep of his wand (it soared into the
air and knocked Parvati's hat off). "What. . . d'you reckon Moody's here to keep an
eye on Snape as well as Karkaroff?"
"Well, I dunno if that's what Dumbledore asked him to do, but he's definitely
doing it," said Harry, waving his wand without paying much attention, so that his
cushion did an odd sort of belly flop off the desk. "Moody said Dumbledore only
lets Snape stay here because he's giving him a second chance or something. ..."
"What?" said Ron, his eyes widening, his next cushion spinning high into the air,
ricocheting off the chandelier, and dropping heavily onto Flitwick's desk. "Harry...
maybe Moody thinks Snape put your name in the Goblet of Fire!"
"Oh Ron," said Hermione, shaking her head sceptically, 