Special Lessons
"Well, do come in," Professor Moody demands impatiently. "I have a very special lesson to teach you."
A seventh year Ravenclaw male stepped into the office, looking around in trepidation. A strange object lay on the Professor's desk, glinting oddly in the morning light.
"Professor," the student begins. "What is that?"
"That is a Muggle device called a gun," Moody replies. "I find it very useful for many reasons. Do you know all the uses of a gun, boy?"
Slowly, the student shakes his head.
"Well, this little device is actually very dangerous, though few members of our kind are aware of this fact," Moody says. "They should know better, however. With this thing, Muggles can kill us easily if they so wish. That's why I am going to teach everyone about the dangers of Muggle inventions, starting with this one. But do you know my favorite use for it?"
The boy shakes his head again, and then watches in horror as Moody pulls down his pants and jamms the gun into the crevice between his buttocks.
"Ahhh...that feels good," Moody says, inhaling and exhaling rapidly. "Don't look at me like that, boy. What's the point of doing it to others if I am unwilling to test it on myself first?"
"Doing it to others?" the boy repeats, eyes wide as saucers.
"Yes," Professor Moody nods, a crazy glint in his eyes. "It's all in name of preparing you for real world, you see. If there is anything I've learned in my career as an Auror, it's that there are Death Eaters out there who would love to do this to you. So you need to be prepared to react accordingly. Now bend over."
The boy does so, and notices that Professor Moody is starting to shake. As the barrel of the gun is jammed into the crevice, the boy winces. Professor Moody is still shaking, and the boy chalks it up to excitement. It is not until his face starts melting that the boy screams. Soon, he finds himself staring at a different person.
"So now you know," Barty Crouch Jr breathes into his face. "You will not say a word or you will find one last use for this little beauty..."
He pulls a gun out of student's crevice, licks it, and then points it at the student's chest, cocking it.
"See, if I press this here," Barty says, putting his finger on the trigger. "Your chest explodes. Don't give me cause to use it. Don't breathe a word of this and everything will be just fine. Ya dig?"
The student nods numbly.
"Good," Barty says with an insane grin. "Now run along."
The boy flees as fast as he is able.