WARNING: This is a slash story, which means it contains male/male erotic content involving adults. If you're not of legal age or are offended by such material, please go find something else to read.

TITLE: Shades of Grey
AUTHOR: Aileen Nulnore
EMAIL: aenulnore@yahoo.com
WARNING: Rape is mentioned. Pretty dark.
SUMMARY: Snape/Moody fic to answer Tinderblast's challenge. A Snape PoV monologue. It's not a happy fic.
DISCLAIMER: JKR's, not mine. Don't sue, I spend most of what little I have on merch and the movie anyways.



I knew. Somehow, I knew. The day he first showed up, I sensed something off about him. It was too subtle for even Dumbledore too notice. That scared me, more then Moody himself. Dumbledore couldn't feel the wrongness about his dear friend.

Moody always did hate me. Didn't trust me. I don't suppose I blame him for it. Someone who will cross the other side to help you might cross you back. I still hated the bastard, but I didn't blame him for his distrust. I hated him because he wanted to see me put through hell and back for ever going over.

The bastard didn't seem to understand that to win a war, you have to have intelligence. Not everyone can be a moral saint. Sometimes to win the war, you have to sacrifice your honor, your pride, your morals and ethics. Muggles seem to understand this well; better than wizards. A spy is someone who does the dirty work, the things that the moral upright wizards who employ them wouldn't dream of doing themselves. A spy does this gladly, to spare the populace at large the realization that nobody is truly clean and good. The darkness lurks a bit in all of us. Spies and a few other folks like them spare the good and kind people from feeling the darkness. We dirty our souls to save theirs. It'd be a fair trade if they didn't revile us for it. But no one in my line of work is delusional enough to think that they will be thanked. They simply do it knowing in the end they did right.

Moody didn't see that. He saw me as a traitor, as scum. Loyalty and morals are his worldview. A turncoat is not loyal. He is to be reviled as the purest scum of the earth. He is to be punished for it.

He took it upon himself to punish me, years before Albus asked him to Hogwarts. He had me blacklisted. Thus, I am forced to make most of my personal purchases in such unsavory places as Knockturn Alley, which of course reinforces the blacklisting.

But the bastard kept it to merely making my life miserable. He never physically laid a hand on me, nor sent anyone to do so.

I knew something was wrong at Hogwarts, when he told me that if I had been willing to whore my mind, I might as well mirror it with my body. Thus, he abused me in many many ways. It was Moody, but then again it was not. It was out of character.

I've forgotten much of what he did that night. The mind is an incredible thing, and I didn't want to remember.

Why didn't I go to Dumbledore? Why didn't I tell him? Because of my pride. I would have warned Dumbledore that Moody was behavingÉ strangely, but I my pride would have prevented me from telling him what, precisely he had done to me. Common attitude towards rape, you know. Compounded by the fact that I know what I am&emdash;a sacrifice, intended to be dirtied so that others hands can stay clean. This was just one more facet to what I must live with. At any rate, I said nothing at all, for vague warnings would only have caused Dumbledore to devalue my opinion. He knows quite well my animosity towards Moody and would certainly ignore warnings without details as being another manifestation of it.

Even now, after the fiasco, and the truth's come out, I still haven't told Dumbledore. I wonder if I'll ever find the courage to sully his ears with my tale.

When I learned of Crouch's deception, I held myself together. I don't know how. Sheer determination? Crouch, not Moody had raped me as punishment for betrayal.

The irony is thick enough to choke on.