Just as Snape's sharp gaze was about to pinpoint the spot where they were hiding, another rough voice cut through the suffocating tension.
"Quite a lively gathering you've got here, eh?"
Alastor Moody limped in from another corridor, his wooden leg striking the flagstones with a steady thump, thump, thump.
His magical eye spun wildly, first sweeping over Filch and Snape, then...
Harry, Ron, and Hermione felt their hearts stop.
The magical eye seemed to pierce straight through the Invisibility Cloak, lingering for a moment on their frightened faces.
The gaze was unnervingly sharp, as though it could see everything.
However, just when they thought they had been exposed, the magical eye casually moved away and settled instead on Snape's pale face.
"Severus," Moody said gruffly, scrutiny evident in his voice, "and Argus. Having a tea party down here in the middle of the night? Or... have you found someone suspicious?"
He deliberately emphasised the words "someone suspicious."
Snape's face looked even darker than usual, his thin lips pressed into a pale line.
"Professor Moody," he replied coldly, his voice as frigid as the dungeon air, "I am merely dealing with a minor disturbance. It appears that certain students have chosen to ignore curfew and conduct unauthorised explorations of the Castle."
His gaze once again swept towards the place where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were hiding.
Moody's magical eye followed it, but he merely said dismissively, "Students? Exploring? At this hour?"
He took a step forwards, his normal eye fixed on Snape.
"But I don't see anyone. Apart from you."
The implication was obvious. In Moody's eyes, Snape himself was the most suspicious person present.
Snape ignored the scrutiny and replied stiffly, "Professor Moody, you seem excessively concerned with me. In times such as these, perhaps you should direct your attention towards matters more deserving of vigilance."
"Matters more deserving of vigilance? Ha!"
Moody gave a harsh laugh.
"Such as certain people with murky pasts becoming... unsettled by the call of an old master?"
The words struck like heated iron plunged into ice water.
The atmosphere around Snape seemed to grow even colder. Fury churned in his black eyes, but he controlled it well and answered in an even icier tone.
"My loyalty can withstand any scrutiny. As for you, Professor Moody, perhaps your years as an Auror have left you so paranoid that you now treat every rustle in the Castle as evidence of conspiracy."
He lifted his chin slightly, deliberate arrogance in the gesture.
"Not everyone regards every colleague as a potential criminal to be watched. Dumbledore has his own judgement in such matters, and I happen to be among the few people he trusts."
"Trust?"
Moody scoffed.
"Trust has to be proven through actions, Severus."
He drew a slow breath.
"And in times like these, I hope your position as one of Dumbledore's 'trusted' people isn't shaken again for certain reasons."
A muscle twitched in Snape's cheek.
He clearly understood Moody's implication, both about his past as a Death Eater and about the hidden dangers currently stirring within Hogwarts.
The air between them felt charged, a silent contest raging through their gazes.
Filch stood awkwardly to one side, his eyes darting between the two professors. He clearly had no idea what they were talking about.
He kept his mouth firmly shut and clutched his oil lamp nervously.
Snape's jaw hardened.
He took a silent breath and forced down the anger burning in his black eyes.
"I have no interest in indulging your pointless suspicions, Moody."
His voice was low, every word maintaining his wounded dignity.
"If you are so fascinated by the noises in these dungeons, feel free to investigate them yourself. I still have some Potions ingredients to deal with. Excuse me."
With that, he swept his black robes around him, turned sharply, and strode towards the Potions storeroom, soon disappearing into the darkness at the end of the corridor.
Filch watched him leave, then glanced nervously at the fierce-looking Moody and swallowed.
"Well... I won't disturb you either, Professor Moody. I need to take Mrs Norris and... continue our patrol elsewhere."
He hurried to the corner, picked up Mrs Norris, who was still staring intently at the fried fish, and left in the opposite direction from Snape.
Silence returned to the staircase.
Only Moody remained, along with the three teenagers standing almost petrified beneath the Invisibility Cloak.
Thump, thump, thump.
Moody's wooden leg struck the floor as he slowly approached their hiding place.
At last, he stopped directly in front of them.
His magical eye no longer spun. Instead, it stared straight through the Invisibility Cloak at the three terrified faces beneath it.
His normal eye swept around the corridor, making certain that no one else was nearby.
"Come out."
Moody's voice was quiet, but it carried unquestionable authority.
"Don't expect that thing to fool my eye."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione's hearts sank.
They had been caught.
Harry hesitated. Knowing there was no point in hiding any longer, he steeled himself and slowly lifted the Invisibility Cloak.
The three teenagers abruptly appeared on the staircase, their faces filled with unease and apprehension.
Moody's magical eye immediately fell on the Marauder's Map clutched tightly in Harry's hand, and his thick eyebrows rose.
"What's that?" he asked, his scrutinising gaze moving over the parchment.
Harry instinctively tried to hide the map behind his back, but Moody had already held out his hand.
It was scarred, but steady and strong.
Harry looked at Moody's weathered face as Sirius's words flashed through his mind: Alastor Moody could be trusted. Dumbledore trusted him.
Ron and Hermione were so nervous they could barely breathe.
Harry took a deep breath, finally made up his mind, and handed over the map.
"This is... the Marauder's Map, sir. It shows where everyone is inside the Castle."
Moody took the parchment, his normal eye and magical eye simultaneously focusing on the moving ink dots and intricate markings.
Although his expression did not change, the three could feel his attention sharpen instantly.
"So... it truly is an extraordinary map, Potter," Moody murmured as he studied it.
"Yes, Professor," Harry nodded. "It helped us catch Peter Pettigrew back then."
Moody looked up, his gaze burning like a torch.
"Then explain yourselves. Wandering around the Castle after curfew, under an Invisibility Cloak, carrying something like this. Don't tell me you were out for a stroll."
"We... we saw a name, sir," Ron said, gathering his courage and pointing towards the map in Moody's hand. "We saw 'Barty Crouch' in Snape's storeroom, but Mr Crouch clearly said this afternoon that he was going back to the Ministry of Magic. We thought it was too strange, so... we wanted to see what he was really doing."
Moody's natural eye narrowed sharply.
He looked back down at the map, staring intently at it as the muscles in his face tightened like a drawn bow.
The wary aura surrounding him suddenly intensified.
"Barty Crouch..."
He repeated the name in a low voice, as though forcing it from deep within his throat.
He raised his head, his magical eye spinning wildly once as it swept across the empty dungeon, seemingly making certain there were no other eavesdroppers.
Then he looked back at the three nervous teenagers, his expression more serious than ever.
"What else did you see?"
"Nothing else, Professor," Harry quickly replied. "We were just about to go to the storeroom and find out, but Mrs Norris stopped us. Then Professor Snape appeared, and then you..."
Moody nodded slowly before glancing at the map again.
"He's not there any more," he said. "The Potions storeroom is empty now... but this does remind me of something."
"Er... Professor Moody..." Hermione could not resist asking, "why do you think Mr Crouch would be in Professor Snape's Potions storeroom?"
Moody's magical eye lifted from the map and fixed on the three of them.
It was such a penetrating stare that they felt as though he were weighing whether to tell them the truth, and if so, how much.
"I can probably guess a few possibilities," Moody finally said in a low voice. "People say I'm obsessed with catching Dark Wizards... but compared with Barty Crouch, I'm practically gentle."
He gave a meaningful sigh.
"After all, I could never bring myself to send my own son to Azkaban. That's not something an ordinary man can do. Not an ordinary man..."
"So, Professor Moody, are you saying that Mr Crouch might have come here because he suspects Professor Snape...?" Hermione quickly asked.
"It's possible," Moody nodded. "Harry Potter's name suddenly appearing in the Goblet of Fire proves that Hogwarts isn't as safe as it appears."
He lifted the parchment in his hand.
"But to be safe, I need to borrow this map. There are several things I need to confirm, to make sure no one is interfering behind the scenes."
He turned towards Harry.
"Is that all right?"
Harry hesitated slightly.
"All right, Professor. How long will you need it?"
"Not long," Moody replied, his mouth twisting into a meaningful smile. "I have a feeling it won't be long."
"Right, that's enough about this."
He lowered his voice.
"You three are to return to Gryffindor Tower immediately. Forget everything you saw tonight. Crouch, the map, the fact that you were here. Don't breathe a word of it to anyone else. Understood? I will investigate this thoroughly."
His gaze passed over each of them, making sure they understood.
"But, sir..." Harry began.
"No buts, Potter!" Moody snapped, his voice dropping even lower. "This is not something you should interfere with. It is far more dangerous than you realise. Your concern now should be getting through the Tournament alive. Go back. Immediately."
He stuffed the Marauder's Map into his pocket and fixed them with a stern glare, while his magical eye turned towards the route leading back to Gryffindor Tower.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were intimidated by his presence and did not dare argue further.
Harry quickly pulled the Invisibility Cloak over them again.
Even beneath the magical fabric, they could still feel Moody's magical eye following them until they disappeared around the corner of the staircase.
Moody remained alone, his wooden leg striking the ground with a dull thump.
He looked once more towards Snape's storeroom, then down at his prosthetic leg, a dark expression settling over his scarred face.
"Not yet..." he muttered, a sharp gleam appearing in his natural eye. "It's not time yet..."
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