The walk from the courtyard to Professor Moody's office was done so in golden silence. Silence, besides the painful groans that left Moody's mouth with each step he took, growing to be more frequent the closer we came to his office.
Now I've been in the office of the defence against the dark arts classroom on more than one occasion; Ron and I confronting that halfwitted Gilderoy Lockhart back in second year being the first, bidding Remus Lupin, the best DADA professor we've had, farewell just a few months ago being the second. The room that I stand in now, the room that I know to be the same, looks completely different. Everything is much darker, much like Moody though, I suppose is himself, as opposed to the professors we've had in the past. He's got lots more knick knacks than the other two did, only acquirable by that of an ex-auror, presumably. I find that they look very fitting for a dark arts professor.
Professor Moody collapses onto a stool immediately beginning to fidget around with his leg. I watch cautiously, not wanting to come off as rude, but also not knowing where else to look. I can't help but to wonder why he brought me here in the first place. Moody sighs in comfort and relief once he places his metal prosthesis onto his desk before turning to me, standing uncomfortably in the doorway.
Moody points to a medium sized mirror just beside his desk.
"That's a Foe-Glass," he informs before then peering into it. "Let's me keep an eye on my enemies. If I can see the whites of their eyes, they're standing right behind me."
As I strain my neck from my spot by the door to look into the Foe-Glass myself, sure enough, I see two faces forming on either side of Moody as if they were right there behind him. However, on neither of the figures can you see the whites of their eyes. Moody suddenly whips around without warning even though nobody's behind him. He laughs maniacally causing me to jump, startled by the action as well as the sudden rumbling from within a large black chest just a few feet away. From the inside comes a distant scream that quickly drowns itself out leaving the room silent once more. The thought that perhaps I made a mistake coming to Moody's office with him, alone, no witnesses becomes more and more prominent.
Moody shrugs, staring at the trunk as if immune to the screaming. "Wouldn't even bother telling you what's in there. You wouldn't believe it if i did."
I shudder and hope that he doesn't see. I don't even want to begin to imagine what's inside. I fear that if I say the wrong thing, I too could end up screaming in that box.
