It wasn't missed that he used her other name—Gaunt. Everyone else still called her Grimshaw, and that alone intensified her curiosity about the Auror turned professor.
"Professor Moody," Gwendolyn began again, stepping closer to his desk, "what do you see when you look at me?"
Moody's magical eye fixed on her, while his normal eye followed suit, both scrutinizing her with a piercing intensity. He leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly on the wooden armrest.
"That's an interesting question, Miss Gaunt," he replied, his voice gravelly. "Why don't you tell me what you think I see?"
Gwendolyn tilted her head, considering his words carefully. "I think you see beyond the surface. You see the power within me, the darkness I've embraced. You see the transformations I've undergone and perhaps even the secrets I hold."
Moody's expression remained unreadable, but a slight nod indicated she was on the right track. "You're not wrong. I see potential, both great and terrible. You've changed, and not just in the way most students do. Your magic is... different."
The thrill of his acknowledgment sent a shiver down her spine. "Different how?"
Moody's magical eye whirred, fixing on her with unnerving precision. "It's darker, more powerful, but also more unstable. You've delved into areas of magic that most students your age wouldn't dare touch. And yet, here you are, seemingly in control."
Gwendolyn's smile widened, a mixture of pride and excitement. "I've embraced my heritage, my power. The darkness is a part of me now, and I've learned to harness it."
Moody leaned forward, his expression serious. "But at what cost, Gwendolyn? Magic like yours doesn't come without a price. The question is, are you prepared to pay it?"
The whispers in her mind grew louder, urging her to reveal more, to push the boundaries of this conversation. But Gwendolyn knew better. This was a game, and she needed to play it carefully.
"I understand the risks, Professor," she said, her voice steady. "And I'm willing to face them. My magic, my heritage—it's who I am. I won't shy away from it."
Moody studied her for a moment longer, then nodded. "Very well. But remember this, Gwendolyn: power is a double-edged sword. It can protect you, but it can also destroy you if you're not careful."
With that, he dismissed her with a slight wave of his hand. Gwendolyn turned and left the classroom, her mind racing with the implications of their conversation. Moody saw her for what she truly was, and that both thrilled and unsettled her. The game had begun, and she was eager to see where it would lead.
As she walked through the corridors of Hogwarts, her thoughts were a whirlwind of possibilities. Moody's acknowledgment of her power, his warning about the cost—it all fueled her desire to delve deeper into the dark magic she had embraced. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but the excitement of it all was intoxicating.
Returning to the Slytherin common room, Gwendolyn found Draco and Daphne waiting for her. They looked up as she entered, curiosity evident in their eyes.
"What did Moody want?" Draco asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.
Gwendolyn smiled enigmatically. "Just a conversation about my... potential. It seems our new professor is quite perceptive."
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Perceptive how?"
Gwendolyn's smile widened. "He sees me for who I truly am. And he respects my power."
Draco and Daphne exchanged a glance, their concern for their friend evident. But Gwendolyn paid them little mind. Her thoughts were already on her next move, the next step in her journey.
As the night wore on and the common room emptied, Gwendolyn sat by the fire, the whispers in her mind her only company. She was more determined than ever to explore the depths of her magic, to embrace the darkness within her. The game with Moody had just begun, and she was eager to see where it would lead.
-----
Alastor Moody—or rather, Bartemius Crouch Jr. disguised as him—watched Gwendolyn leave his office, his thoughts a complex tangle of intrigue and caution. The girl was an enigma, a swirling storm of power and madness, and as the niece of his master, Lord Voldemort, she presented both an opportunity and a threat.
As Crouch Jr., his mind raced with thoughts of how best to use her. She was undeniably powerful, her magic tinged with a darkness that he could exploit. If he could gain her trust, steer her towards their cause, she could be a valuable asset. Her loyalty to her heritage and her fascination with dark magic mirrored his own path. He could sense her potential, raw and potent, waiting to be shaped and directed.
But as Moody, he had to tread carefully. The real Moody was known for his vigilance, his suspicion of everything and everyone. Crouch Jr. had to maintain that façade, to ensure that no one suspected his true identity. This meant balancing his interest in Gwendolyn with a level of caution that would befit Moody's character.
He settled back in his chair, reflecting on their conversation. Gwendolyn's power was undeniable, but it was her madness that made her unpredictable. She had embraced her dark heritage, and while that made her a kindred spirit in many ways, it also made her volatile. She was not someone to be trusted easily, not even by him.
Her mention of her transformations, the absorption of the Basilisk's power, and her unyielding pursuit of knowledge all pointed to a dangerous obsession. An obsession that, if harnessed correctly, could serve the Dark Lord well. But it was also an obsession that could lead her to destroy herself if left unchecked.
Crouch Jr. tapped his fingers on the desk, considering his next move. He needed to keep her close, to monitor her progress, and to subtly guide her. He couldn't afford to push too hard; she was intelligent and would see through any overt manipulation. Instead, he would offer her the guidance she craved, the acknowledgment of her power, and the subtle nudges towards their cause.
As Moody, he had to maintain his cover. He would continue to observe her, to mentor her in a way that seemed in line with his public persona. He would encourage her to explore her abilities while keeping a watchful eye on her to ensure she did not become a loose cannon.
Inwardly, Crouch Jr. allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. Gwendolyn Grimshaw Gaunt was a fascinating piece on the chessboard, and with careful manipulation, she could be a powerful ally in the Dark Lord's return. But he would have to be patient, play the long game, and ensure that she remained unaware of his true intentions.
As he rose from his desk, preparing for his next class, Crouch Jr. reflected on the delicate balance he had to maintain. He had to be both the vigilant, suspicious Moody and the covert operative working towards Voldemort's return. It was a dangerous dance, but one he was confident he could master.
For now, he would watch and wait, nurturing the darkness within Gwendolyn while keeping her under his control. The game had only just begun, and he was determined to win.
-----
Gwendolyn Grimshaw Gaunt skipped through the stone corridors of Hogwarts, her feet barely touching the ground as she hummed a haunting tune. Tonight was the night that the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would arrive, bringing with them the excitement and anticipation of the Triwizard Tournament. Although she was too young to participate, the prospect of witnessing the competition and observing the contenders intrigued her.
Her citrine eyes gleamed with a mix of curiosity and madness, reflecting the flickering torchlight as she made her way towards the Great Hall. The whispers in her mind were quieter tonight, allowing her to focus on the tangible world around her. She could feel the buzz of magic in the air, a subtle hum that resonated with her own dark power.
As she rounded a corner, she spotted Draco Malfoy and his usual entourage, Crabbe and Goyle, loitering near the entrance to the Great Hall. Draco's eyes lit up with interest when he saw her.
"Gwen," Draco called out, a smirk playing on his lips. "Excited for the new arrivals?"
Gwendolyn slowed her skipping pace, coming to a graceful stop in front of him. "Oh, very much so, Draco. It's always fascinating to see new faces and new magic."
Draco raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her unusual enthusiasm. "You know, even if you can't compete, you can still help us keep an eye on the competition. We need to know who our rivals are."
Gwendolyn's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and dark intent. "Of course. I'll be watching very closely."
As the students gathered in the Great Hall, the atmosphere was electric. The enchanted ceiling reflected the starry night sky, and the tables were laden with an array of sumptuous dishes. Gwendolyn took her seat at the Slytherin table, her gaze flickering to the entrance, anticipating the arrival of the other schools.
The doors to the Great Hall swung open, and the Beauxbatons students entered first, led by their headmistress, Madame Maxime. The Beauxbatons students moved with a grace and elegance that drew appreciative murmurs from the Hogwarts students. Gwendolyn's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied them, noting their fluid movements and the aura of magic that surrounded them.
Next came the Durmstrang delegation, led by the imposing figure of Igor Karkaroff. The Durmstrang students had a more formidable presence, their expressions serious and their movements precise. Gwendolyn's gaze lingered on Viktor Krum, the famous Quidditch player, who walked with a confidence that spoke of his prowess and experience.
As the introductions were made and the students settled into their respective places, Gwendolyn's mind raced with thoughts of the upcoming tournament. The age line would prevent her from entering, but there were other ways to learn and gather knowledge. The whispers in her mind suggested that observing the champions and their tasks would provide valuable insights into different forms of magic and strategy.
Throughout the feast, Gwendolyn remained quiet, her eyes constantly scanning the room, taking in every detail. She noticed how the Beauxbatons students interacted with each other, the way the Durmstrang students carried themselves, and the subtle glances exchanged between the Hogwarts staff and the visiting headmasters. Every piece of information was a potential advantage, a step towards understanding and mastery.
After the feast, as the students began to disperse, Gwendolyn made her way to the entrance hall. The night air was cool and crisp, and she took a moment to breathe deeply, feeling the magic of the castle and its surroundings. She was not disappointed with what she had seen. The competition promised to be thrilling, and she intended to be a keen observer.
As she skipped back towards the Slytherin common room, her mind buzzed with excitement. There was so much to learn, so much to see. The Triwizard Tournament was not just a competition; it was an opportunity. An opportunity to delve deeper into the world of magic, to uncover secrets, and to grow stronger.
-
Gwendolyn sat in a secluded corner of the library, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she discussed the upcoming Triwizard Tournament with Draco. Her enthusiasm was palpable, her voice carrying a tone of certainty and anticipation
"I'm certain there will be dragons in one of the tasks," Gwendolyn said, her voice low but brimming with excitement. "It just makes sense. The tournament is all about testing the champions' courage and skill. What better way to do that than with dragons?"
Draco, seated across from her, smirked. "You and your dragons, Gwen. I swear, you're more obsessed with them than anything else."
Gwendolyn's fingers brushed the silver dragon necklace that Draco had given her, a constant reminder of her obsession. The pendant glinted in the dim library light, a symbol of her unyielding curiosity and fascination with the majestic creatures.
A couple of students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seated at a nearby table, couldn't help but overhear Gwendolyn's enthusiastic discussion. They exchanged amused glances, whispering to each other in their native languages.
"Elle est comme une enfant curieuse," one of the Beauxbatons students murmured, her voice filled with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment. (She is like a curious child)
"Sie ist wirklich verrückt," a Durmstrang student muttered in response, shaking his head slightly. (She is really crazy)
The Hogwarts students, on the other hand, were well-acquainted with Gwendolyn's peculiarities. They regarded her with a mix of wariness and intrigue, convinced that she was, indeed, mad. The whispers about her had only grown louder with each passing year, but Gwendolyn paid them no mind. She was driven by her own desires, her own quest for knowledge and power.
Hermione Granger, seated a few tables away, couldn't help but overhear the conversation. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she leaned in to listen more closely. The mention of dragons piqued her interest, but she remained skeptical of Gwendolyn's claims.
"How can you be so sure, Gwen?" Hermione interjected, her tone both inquisitive and cautious. "There's been no official word on what the tasks will be."
Gwendolyn turned her citrine eyes toward Hermione, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Let's just say I have a feeling. A very strong feeling."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but intrigued nonetheless. "Well, I suppose we'll find out soon enough."
As the conversation continued, Gwendolyn's excitement only grew. The whispers in her mind were quieter today, allowing her to fully immerse herself in the anticipation of the tournament. The idea of dragons, of witnessing their power and majesty up close, sent a thrill of exhilaration through her.
Draco, though bemused by her obsession, couldn't help but admire her passion. "If there are dragons, you're going to be insufferable, you know that?"
Gwendolyn laughed softly, the sound both musical and unsettling. "Oh, Draco, you should know by now that I'm already insufferable."
The group of foreign students continued to observe her with a mixture of amusement and confusion. To them, she was an enigma, a curious child with a dangerous edge. The Hogwarts students, accustomed to her eccentricities, maintained their distance, their expressions a blend of fascination and fear.
As the hours passed and the library began to empty, Gwendolyn felt a sense of satisfaction. The tournament was a chance to witness something extraordinary, to see the power of dragons firsthand. It was an opportunity she couldn't afford to miss.
Draco Malfoy glanced at the clock on the library wall and sighed. The hours had slipped away in their fervent discussion, and it was time to head back. He began clearing the books from the table, stacking them neatly.
"Alright, Gwen," he called out, "we should get going. It's getting late."
Gwendolyn, who had wandered off to a nearby shelf to find another book on dragons, nodded absently. "Just a moment, Draco. I found something interesting."
Draco shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. "Of course you did."
As he continued to gather their things, a group of Durmstrang students approached the table. They moved with a confident air, their eyes glinting with curiosity and something darker. One of them, a tall boy with sharp features and a cold expression, stepped forward.
"Malfoy," he said, his voice low and accented, "we've heard some interesting things about your friend."
Draco looked up, his expression guarded. "Oh? And what have you heard?"
The Durmstrang student exchanged a glance with his companions before responding. "They say she's mad. But also... powerful. We've seen her around, and she doesn't seem quite... normal."
Draco's eyes narrowed, his protective instincts flaring. "Gwendolyn is... unique. But she's one of the most skilled witches in our year. Why do you ask?"
The Durmstrang student smirked. "We're curious. She has a... reputation. We wanted to know if the stories are true."
Draco straightened, his posture defensive. "What stories?"
The Durmstrang student took a step closer, his eyes glinting with malice. "Stories of her dark magic, her visions, her obsession with dragons. She's intriguing, but also dangerous. We wanted to know if she's someone to be wary of."
Draco's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Gwendolyn reappeared, a thick tome cradled in her arms. She sensed the tension immediately and looked between Draco and the Durmstrang students, her citrine eyes narrowing.
"Is there a problem here?" she asked, her voice calm but carrying an edge of warning.
The Durmstrang student turned to her, his expression unreadable. "No problem. We were just curious about you."
Gwendolyn's smile was unsettling, a flash of sharp teeth. "Curiosity is a dangerous thing. But I suppose it's only natural to be curious about the unknown."
The Durmstrang student chuckled, though there was no warmth in the sound. "Indeed. We'll be watching, Gwendolyn. We're very interested in what you might do."
Gwendolyn's eyes flickered with amusement and something darker. "I'm sure you are. But be careful what you wish for. You might not like what you find."
The Durmstrang students exchanged wary glances before backing away, their curiosity tempered by a newfound caution. As they left, Gwendolyn turned to Draco, her smile fading into a more genuine expression of concern.
"What did they want?" she asked quietly.
Draco shook his head. "Just asking questions. They've heard the rumors, like everyone else."
Gwendolyn sighed, her gaze drifting to the darkened windows of the library. "Let them talk. It doesn't matter. Come on, let's go."
Draco nodded, and together they left the library, the whispers of the Durmstrang students lingering in the air. As they walked through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, Gwendolyn couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on her, watching, waiting. The whispers in her mind hummed with anticipation, urging her forward into the unknown.
As they reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Gwendolyn paused, her mind already turning to the visions she had seen and the plans she was forming. The Triwizard Tournament was approaching, and with it, the promise of dragons and power. She could feel it in her bones, the thrill of the hunt, the allure of the unknown.
Draco watched her closely, his concern for his friend mingling with admiration. Gwendolyn was a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind of madness and brilliance. And as the darkness closed in around them, he knew that whatever came next, they would face it together.
"Goodnight, Draco," Gwendolyn said softly, her eyes flickering with an inner fire. "Tomorrow brings new opportunities."
"Goodnight, Gwen," Draco replied, his voice filled with determination. "Stay safe."
As they entered the common room, Gwendolyn felt the whispers in her mind grow louder, guiding her towards the future. The Triwizard Tournament was just the beginning, and she was ready to embrace the chaos and power it promised.