The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection
Starting from fourth year, Draco and his classmates would begin studying more dangerous aspects of dark magic.
They didn’t need to learn how to use it—but they did need to understand how to recognize and defend against it.
This textbook was supposed to be their primary material for the year.
However, it was clear that the man standing before them, Professor Moody, didn’t share that opinion.
“Put those useless things away. You won’t need them in my class.”
Despite his aged appearance, Moody’s voice carried a force that filled the room. He didn’t sound like a retired Auror wounded from years on the front lines, but rather like someone who still belonged there.
As he spoke, Alastor Moody leaned heavily on his cane, making his way to the lectern with effort. His disdainful gaze swept across the classroom, clearly directed at the textbook written by Quentin Trimble.
Pansy couldn’t help suspecting that this new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had some personal grudge against the author.
“Because,” Moody continued, “I intend to show you the kind of magic wizards use against each other. And for that, I have one year to teach you how to fight the Dark Arts—”
The low, grim tone of his voice and the words themselves sent murmurs rippling through the students. Many of them exchanged uneasy glances.
This Defense Against the Dark Arts professor didn’t quite seem right.
If anything, he seemed more like one of the dark wizards described in their books than someone who ought to be teaching how to fight them.
Still, no one dared to speak up. One by one, they obediently closed their textbooks and put them away.
...
Once everyone had stowed the despised The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, a crooked grin spread across Moody’s scarred face—a grin that could easily make a child cry.
“First,” he said, “before we begin, let me make sure everyone here actually belongs in this classroom.
Or, to put it another way—let’s confirm there’s no one among us who shouldn’t be here. For example... a Death Eater.”
“.....”
A heavy silence fell.
Then, almost as one, the students turned their eyes toward Draco, mouths slightly open.
They were met with Pansy’s fierce glare—and Hermione’s sharp, disapproving frown.
Even the dullest among them could tell that Professor Alastor Moody was deliberately aiming that remark at Draco Malfoy.
“You noticed too, Granger,” Draco muttered quietly.
“Yes... Professor Moody said that on purpose. It’s like he’s trying to make people believe you’re a Death Eater. I can’t just—”
“No. Let me handle it.”
“Wait. Let’s see how this plays out first.”
Seeing Hermione and Pansy both on the verge of speaking up in his defense, Draco quickly stopped them before either could act rashly.
To him, proving his innocence wasn’t the issue right now. What he needed to understand was whether Moody’s hostility was directed specifically at him—or whether the man simply despised all Death Eaters, and Draco was caught in the crossfire because of his name.
That was what Draco needed to find out first.
Surely not every old Auror hated the Malfoys...
...
Compared to the Slytherins’ indignation, the Gryffindors on the other side were watching with undisguised delight.
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, in particular, looked almost giddy, their excitement barely contained—as if Draco getting singled out like this was nothing less than what he deserved.
They seemed to have conveniently forgotten that Draco had, directly or indirectly, helped them more than once...
“Well then, our first example... Ah! Yes—Malfoy, the one who betrayed the Dark Lord. Stand up, Mr. Malfoy.”
“.....”
As Draco rose, Alastor Moody’s whirling magical eye glowed an eerie blue, as though it could see straight through him, stripping away every secret he held.
No one really knew what kind of power that grotesque blue eye possessed.
“Magic on par with a full-grown wizard,” Moody said, his tone low and cutting. “And the deep magical heritage of the Malfoy family behind it. Frightening, really. If I were the Dark Lord, I’d certainly want you as one of mine.”
The implication in those words made Pansy spring halfway to her feet in outrage.
In that instant, she finally understood why so many wizards despised Snape—why they’d even gone so far as to nickname him the Black Bat.
But Draco’s hand, placed calmly on her shoulder, stopped her before she could speak.
His unshaken composure made Moody pause mid-motion, and that spinning blue eye slowly came to a stop.
“Keeping calm,” Moody said, his voice rough but steady, “is one of the most important traits an Auror can have. Consider that your first lesson at Hogwarts.”
The tension in the room hung thick for a heartbeat—until, without warning, Moody shifted his gaze away from Draco.
The sudden change caught Pansy off guard. She blinked, still processing it, and only when Moody began calling another student’s name did she glance toward Draco, whose face had grown notably serious.
“I thought…” she began softly.
“What are you thinking?” Draco replied in a low voice. “Even if he wanted to strike at me, he wouldn’t do it here—not while he’s playing the role of a professor.”
“But still—!”
“Yes,” Draco murmured, eyes narrowing. “He definitely has some kind of hostility toward me. Alastor... Moody, huh...”
Draco wasn’t about to brush that hostility off as nothing.
In fact, the night after the Sorting Ceremony, he had already started looking into the man’s background.
Yet even with the combined resources of the Malfoy and Parkinson families, information about Alastor Moody was scarce. The old Auror was far too careful.
During his years at the Ministry, he’d barely interacted with anyone—even his own colleagues. His life seemed to revolve solely around his missions.
Even in retirement, he chose isolation, living alone and making it nearly impossible to dig up anything beyond surface details.
What was clear, however, was that Alastor Moody was famously paranoid—and that his entire life had been devoted to hunting down dark wizards.
Including Death Eaters.
In short, he was a legend among Aurors.
And the trouble was—
He had his eye on Draco.