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.
Harry’s 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?”
“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 weren’t 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 Marauder’s 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.
26. 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 Moody’s 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, “we thought Snape was trying to kill Harry before, and it turned out he was saving Harry’s life, remember?”
She Banished a cushion and it flew across the room and landed in the box they were all supposed to be aiming at. Harry looked at Hermione, thinking… it was true that Snape had saved his life once, but the odd thing was, Snape definitely loathed him, just as he’d loathed Harry’s father when they had been at school together. Snape loved taking points from Harry, and had certainly never missed an opportunity to give him punishments, or even to suggest that he should be suspended from the school.
“I don’t care what Moody says,” Hermione went on. “Dumbledore’s not stupid. He was right to trust Hagrid and Professor Lupin, even though loads of people wouldn’t have given them jobs, so why shouldn’t he be right about Snape, even if Snape is a bit—”
“evil,” said Ron promptly. “Come on, Hermione, why are all these Dark wizard catchers searching his office, then?”
“Why has Mr. Crouch been pretending to be ill?” said Hermione, ignoring Ron. “Its a bit funny, isn’t it, that he can’t manage to come to the Yule Ball, but he can get up here in the middle of the night when he wants to?”
“You just don’t like Crouch because of that elf, Winky,” said Ron, sending a cushion soaring into the window.
“You just want to think Snape’s up to something,” said Hermione, sending her cushion zooming neatly into the box.
“I just want to know what Snape did with his first chance, if he’s on his second one,” said Harry grimly, and his cushion, to his very great surprise, flew straight across the room and landed neatly on top of Hermione’s.
Obedient to Sirius’s wish of hearing about anything odd at Hogwarts, Harry sent him a letter by brown owl that night, explaining all about Mr. Crouch breaking into Snape’s office, and Moody and Snape’s conversation. Then Harry turned his attention in earnest to the most urgent problem facing him: how to survive underwater for an hour on the twenty fourth of February.
Ron quite liked the idea of using the Summoning Charm again—Harry had explained about Aqua Lungs, and Ron couldn’t see why Harry shouldn’t Summon one from the nearest Muggle town. Hermione squashed this plan by pointing out that, in the unlikely event that Harry managed to learn how to operate an Aqua Lung within the set limit of an hour, he was sure to be disqualified for breaking the International Code of Wizarding Secrecy—it was too much to hope that no Muggles would spot an Aqua Lung zooming across the countryside to Hogwarts.
“Of course, the ideal solution would be for you to Transfigure yourself into a submarine or something,” Hermione said. “If only we’d done human Transfiguration already! But I don’t think we start that until sixth year, and it can go badly wrong if you don’t know what you’re doing…”
“Yeah, I don’t fancy walking around with a periscope sticking out of my head,” said Harry. “I s’pose I could always attack someone in front of Moody; he might do it for me…”