Of Underclothes and Magical Eyes
A/N – For the purpose of this story, imagine that Moody has been rehired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts in Harry's fifth year.
Mad-Eye Moody stepped out of his classroom gratefully. It could be very distracting trying to teach a class when he could see through all their clothes. There were a couple of very pretty girls in the seventh year classes, though . . .
Moody grinned to himself and headed to the staffroom, shaking his head. The underwear some of those first years wore . . .
"Afternoon, Alastor." Professor Sinistra nodded to him as she passed. Moody eyed her appreciatively. Now there was a pretty woman. Her underclothing could use replacing, but . . .
"Hello, Stella," he replied gruffly, and shouldered past her. Severus Snape was sprawled in a low armchair at the far end of the room. Moody turned away quickly. He didn't have any real desire to view Snape's underwear. But, wait a minute, was that . . . ? Moody turned reluctantly back, his attention caught. Had he seen what he thought he had seen covering Snape's nether parts? Dear God, the man was wearing underwear embroidered with little simmering cauldrons.
Moody turned away in disgust, only to find that absent-minded Professor Sprout was wearing pink underwear and had forgotten to put on a bra. He could have done without knowing that.
Tiny Professor Flitwick had to buy child-sized underwear. This pair was covered in images of Tigger and Winnie the Pooh. Moody snorted to himself, earning odd looks from several teachers.
Just then Hagrid walked in. Moody noted that he was wearing bright yellow hand-knitted underwear. Moody supposed Hagrid was so big that he couldn't find underwear to fit him, and had been forced to knit his own.
Moody turned to leave the staffroom as Professor McGonagall entered it. To Moody's surprise, she was wearing a black lacy bra and matching underwear.
"Nice bra, Minerva," he muttered as they passed shoulder-to-shoulder in the doorway. She blushed deep red and said in an affronted voice, "Professor Moody!" Moody chuckled to himself and closed the staffroom door gently behind him.
From there he went up to the Headmaster's office.
"You wanted to see me, Dumbledore?" he said gruffly from the door.
"Ah, yes, Alastor," said Dumbledore, getting up from behind his desk. "I was wondering, would you be willing to run an extra class for that seventh years who are interested in becoming Aurors?"
Moody thought about this for a moment. The last thing he needed (or wanted) was another class to teach. But desperate times called for desperate measures. He nodded shortly.
"Good." Dumbledore smiled and handed him a list of students' names. "You'll be starting on Friday afternoon," he said. "And now, if your don't mind Alastor, I have much to do before dinner. Do you have any questions?
"Nope." Moody got up and went to the door. Just before he reached it, he paused. "I do have one question."
Dumbledore was seated behind his desk again. "Fire away," he said cheerfully.
Moody grinned. "Why Bugs Bunny?"