𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟒
THE LAST PLACE DRACO MALFOY EXPECTS to find Maya Rajesh is at the Owlery.
Her sillhouette is the only thing visible in the semidarkness, the soft scratching of a quill indicating her purpose here. He seems to have a bad habit of running into her, Draco thinks to himself, chills running up his spine at the words that leave her lips next.
"If you're going to stalk me, at least learn to do it right"
He raises an eyebrow, swallowing the fear in his throat as he takes a few steps forward.
"First of all, I'm not stalking you-"
"Sure.."
"I just happened to be here to send off a letter. What are you doing here?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
Her snark cuts deep, for some reason. Draco is suddenly angry at her. How do people tolerate Maya Rajesh, someone so petulant and disarming? He doubts he's seen her smile once in the short weeks that school has commenced. She always hangs around Granger and Potter, probably planning world domination along with them.
Draco really wouldn't put anything past her.
Then he remembers their agreement, and all venomous thoughts fall away.
"How's Diana?" he questions, as she sighs, turning around to face him, "Or have you forgotten about our deal already?"
"You know what? How about you go ahead and shove it up your-"
"Is everything that comes out of your mouth poisonous, or are you just like that with me?"
"What do you think?"
Draco sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep his temper.
"You still haven't answered my question yet"
She fiddles with the hem of her crimson sweater, black skirt swaying in the breeze that ruffles his hair.
"If you must know, she's fine. The Hufflepuffs mostly just ignore her, though some of them have made an effort to be civil. Diana gets through her classes well. She's a lot better at Arithmancy than I will ever be -"
"And you're not mistreating her?"
She looks very shocked, for a second, expression morphing into one of disgust.
"Do you really think that low of me?"
"I'm not going to answer that"
She rolls her eyes, grip loosening against the railing behind her.
"Well, if you're done with this absolutely scintillating conversation, then I'm leaving. Curfew's in fifteen minutes, and I'd rather not be caught out of bed by Filch-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know" replies Draco, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, "Wouldn't want to tarnish the goody-two-shoes image you have going on."
She gives him a sarcastic grin.
"I see you've finally caught on"
"Whatever"
"Oh, and Malfoy?" she questions, in a faux sweet voice.
Maya Rajesh steps closer to him for a brief second. At this proximity, he's able to smell her pomegranate shampoo, see the dark tint of black in her navy eyes that makes her look, if only for a moment, like a threat.
"The next time you even think about spilling a word of what you saw that night," she continues, the tone of her voice becoming terrifyingly icy, "Keep in mind that I know ten different ways to stab you with a quill. Lethally. And if you don't want to die at fourteen, I suggest you keep your mouth shut."
Draco scoffs as she leaves, her petite figure making it's way down the stairs before disappearing completely out of sight. A nervous shudder runs down his spine at the thought of what could possibly happen if she went through with her threat. Maya Rajesh may be part-firecracker, but she's not crazy enough to actually impale him-
Right?
"So Trelawney just went completely psycho on you for no reason?" asks Diana, incredulously, as they walk to their lessons.
Even though the younger Malfoy is in the year below Maya, their schedules coincidentally align after lunch on Thursdays, making it easier for them to walk to their seperate classes together. Contrary to what you might think, it's not completely because of whatever agreement she naively made with Malfoy. Maya actually enjoys Diana's presence in her life. Something about her bubbly, cheerful personality is hard to resist, like a walking ray of sunshine.
It isn't so hard to believe why she's been sorted into Hufflepuff.
"I know it sounds crazy," replies Maya, nervously rubbing her arms, "But there's no other way to describe it. One second she's stirring the tea, the next, acting like she's from The Exorcist"
"What's that?"
"Munda - Muggle horror movie. It's famous for the scene where the possessed girl turns her head three-hundred-and-sixty degrees."
"Ugh," grimaces Diana, shuddering as she paints a mental picture in her head, "That must've been quite a shock"
"It was," replies Maya, looking down at the ground, "W-what if - what if what she said actually comes true? Could Professor Trelawney have predicted something?"
"I doubt it," answers Diana, looking skeptical, "She uses her ancestry as a form of credibility. And Draco's always saying that-"
"Wait, you two have started talking again?"
Diana sheepishly looks down at the ground, confirming Maya's suspicions.
"Not in public - don't look at me like that!!"
Maya looks away, cheeks flushed.
"What do you mean?"
Diana sighs, exasperated.
"He told me that even though it's a disappointment that I'm in Hufflepuff, I couldn't exactly control what happened. And although our parents probably aren't going to forgive me for a while, it doesn't change the fact that I'll always be his somewhat annoying little sister-"
Maya rolls her eyes at this.
"Though I'd probably say he's the more irritating one."
Tell me about it, goes her mind, That guy has ZERO chill.
"You know I'm not going to treat you any differently, right?" states Maya, suddenly, "Since you're a Malfoy in Hufflepuff? Trust me, I know exactly what it feels like to not belong-"
"You do?" questions Diana, surprised.
Maya sighs.
"Look, back in New York, I've dealt with my fair share of discrimination. I mean, what else do you expect with a single mother who's a Shadowhunter?-"
"Your mother is a Shadowhunter?!"
"Long story. Anyway, don't think too much about it, okay? From what I've experienced, people - especially kids - are scared of what's different. And honestly? You shouldn't be giving a flying fuck about what they think. You're here for a reason, and even though things haven't turned out like you expected, it's up to you to own it"
Diana looks at her in surprise, a faint pink tint covering her pale skin. Maya gives her a questioning smile, reaching back and adjusting the strands falling out from her ponytail.
"What?"
"That....actually isn't horrible advice"
Needless to say, Maya is very, very late for defense against the dark arts.
Their teacher thankfully isn't here yet; She slides into a seat in the back and opens up her copy of "The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection", and wait, usnusually quiet. Soon she heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he enters the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They can all just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.
"You can put those away," he growls, stomping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them."
They return the books to their bags, Ron looking excited. Moody takes out a register, shakes his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and begins to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swivels around, fixing upon each student as he or she answers.
"Right then," he says, as the last person declares themselves present, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures — you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"
Does accidentally running into one count? Maya thinks to herself, shuddering as she remembered the time Magnus had gone to Jade Wolf, a hub for New York's werewolves disguised as a Chinese restaurant - which also, incidentally, serves pretty good chow mein.
There is a general murmur of assent.
"But you're behind — very behind — on dealing with curses,"
Moody looks directly at her as the words leave his lips, an inexplicable chill going down her spine at his gaze. Maya doesn't know why she suddenly feels so uneasy, unconsciously shifting in her seat. His magical eye isn't spinning for once - the electric blue orb is looking directly at her. She gulps, his x-raying gaze feeling as though he's trying to unpack her mind, become privy to secrets only she has ever been allowed to know.
Suddenly, something feels off.
"So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark —"
"What, aren't you staying?" Ron blurts out.
Moody's magical eye spins around to stare at Ron; Ron looks extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiles — the first time Maya has seen him do so. The effect makes his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it's nevertheless good to know that he ever does anything as friendly as smile. Ron looks deeply relieved.
"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody says. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago. . . . Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore. . . . One year, and then back to my quiet retirement."
He gives a harsh laugh and then claps his gnarled hands together.
"So — straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."
Lavender jumps, blushing. She's been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently, Moody's magical eye can see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head.
Which does nothing to calm her nerves about their strange new teacher.
"So . . . do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"
Several hands rise tentatively into the air, including Ron's and Hermione's. Moody points at Ron, though his magical eye is still fixed on Lavender.
"Er," says Ron tentatively, "my dad told me about one. . . . Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"
The name rings a faint bell in her head, though clearly not a good one, considering the sick feeling in her stomach that arises with it.
"Ah, yes," says Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."
Moody gets heavily to his mismatched feet, opens his desk drawer, and takes out a glass jar. Three large black spiders are scuttling around inside it. Maya sees Ron recoil slightly at the sight — she remembers that he has a fear of spiders. Moody reaches into the jar, catches one of the spiders, and holds it in the palm of his hand, so that they can all see it. He then points his wand at it and mutters, "Imperio!"
The spider leaps from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and begins to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretches out its legs rigidly, then backflips, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it begins to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerks his wand, and the spider rises onto two of its hind legs and goes into what is unmistakably a tap dance. Everyone's laughing — everyone except Maya.
She squeezes her eyes shut, slumping against the desk while her hands cover her face. It's like a switch has suddenly flipped inside her - her heartbeat is so loud that she's sure everyone can hear the thundering inside her chest. She swallows, to calm the sudden dryness in her mouth, a cold, clammy sweat forming on her skin as she runs a suddenly trembling hand through her hair, completely petrified at the sudden crack in her facade. Maya doesn't know why she's reacting like this to something so small and insignificant - almost like a low-grade anxiety attack that's triggered by a spider of all thing. All she can perceive is the strong urge for it to stop, for Moody to put down his wand, for the spider to go back into his pocket.
"Think it's funny, do you?" growls their teacher. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"
The laughter dies away almost instantly.
"Total control," says Moody quietly as the spider balls itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats . . ." Ron gives an involuntary shudder.
Maya finally manages the courage to sit back up, hands still covering part of her face. Her skin is glazed with sweat, and she can feel the stares at her hands, which still bear traces of the nervous tremors that plagued them moments ago.
"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," says Moody, and Maya knows he's talking about the days in which Voldemort was all-powerful. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. "The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barks, and everyone jumps.
Maya suddenly wishes she never, ever signed up for Defense Against The Dark Arts.
Moody picks up the somersaulting spider and throws it back into the jar.
"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"
Hermione's hand flies into the air again and so, to Maya's surprise, so does Neville's. The only class in which Neville usually volunteers information was Herbology, which is easily his best subject. Neville looks surprised at his own daring.
"Yes?" says Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville.
"There's one — the Cruciatus Curse," says Neville in a small but distinct voice. Maya's heart sinks. Moody is looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.
"Your name's Longbottom?" he says, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again.
Neville nods nervously, but Moody makes no further inquiries. Turning back to the class at large, he reaches into the jar for the next spider and places it upon the desktop, where it remains, motionless, apparently too scared to move.
"The Cruciatus Curse," says Moody. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he saus, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"
The spider swells. It is now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretense, Ron pushes his chair backward, as far away from Moody's desk as possible. Moody raises his wand again. He points it at the spider, and mutters, "Crucio!"
At once, the spider's legs bend in upon its body; it rolls over and begins to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound comes from it, but Maya is sure that if it can speak, screams would be ringing throughout the room. Moody does not remove his wand, and the spider starts to shudder and jerk more violently —
Maya doesn't know what comes over her in the next few moments, her stomach lurching violently, feeling like she's going to vomit any second.
"Stop it!" she half-screams, shrilly, "Just stop, please!!"
The room lapses into pin-drop silence, and she can feel Hermione's horrified stare in her direction. "Reducio," Moody mutters, and the spider shrinks back to its proper size. He puts it back into the jar.
"Pain," says Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse. . . . That one was very popular once too."
This is sick, spits her mind, venomously, This is so fucking sick.
He looks around them, eyes fixing on her in particular.
"And I suppose you, Miss Rajesh, will be able to tell us the last one?"
Maya gulps, feeling herself break out into a cold sweat once more. Her fists clench violently, fingernails digging into her palms and probably leaving marks, but she couldn't care less about breaking skin right now. Something catches in her throat, some impediment telling her to contain her speech, push down the meek 'yes' that threatens to leave her throat.
Her voice is a whisper when she finally works up the courage to speak.
"No"
Moody laughs, clearly thinking that she made a mistake.
"I'm sorry?"
Maya clears her throat, standing up and placing her hands on her desk with more confidence than she originally planned.
"I said no. I don't want to tell you the answer"
He looks at her for a moment, expressionless as people start to whisper around them.
What are you doing?!?! screams the rational part of her brain You need to keep your head down, not invite trouble!!
Maya knows this by heart; it's what's been ingrained into her psyche all this time. In the Shadow world, damn the righteous ways to uphold "justice" as they call it, whistle-blowing is what gets you killed. And in Nandini's case, as Maya has been forced to observe, drawing attention to yourself is the last thing you want to do, especially if you're already in hot water with the clave. And in a world where the cells of your blood determine everything, it's practically a death sentence to make any type of noise.
She's surprised the clave hasn't eradicated her yet.
Moody chuckles, a hint of menace in his tone.
"Well, I don't know what you were taught in America, but in my class, you won't have that option"
Looking back, she thinks the next few moments were fueled by pure insanity.
"Then I guess I don't want to be in your class anymore"
Maya slides out of her seat, slinging her schoolbag over her shoulder with finality. Her shoes - plain black mary janes that she detests beyond belief - click rapidly against the floor, falling into line with the shouts that ring after her as she exits the room.
She knows the impression she's suddenly made on everyone.
And that it will undoubtedly get her in trouble later.
But oddly, her own plight is the farthest thing from her mind.
Instead, her insides are twisted into knots with suspicion, fear.
Something is very, very wrong with Mad-Eye Moody.
And it definitely doesn't have anything to do with his wooden leg.