The Contract

Chapter 119

Sirius Black, blank faced, walked without a single hint of fear towards Alastor Moody's home. Every single time he passed a ward his pendant glowed purple as it circumvented the protection spells Moody had cast upon his property. A small smirk beginning to worm its way onto his features, imagining the look on the old bastard's face when they came face to face for the first time in over fourteen years. He hadn't seen Moody when he was brought in to the Ministry before being carted off to Azkaban. Last time he saw him was during an Order meeting a week before, just before his best friends went under the Fidelius Charm.

The pendant was ironically enough a protection amulet, it was a grim with amethyst eyes. Given how many times it had glowed he hadn't underestimated Moody at all. Not that it was difficult to do really, you only needed to meet Moody once to realize just how paranoid he was. It was one of the very rare and precious childhood things he still had. He had lost so much of his life that it still hurt to think about. letters from James and Lily about Harry, photo albums, clothes, hell, the only things he really had from his childhood and teenage years was a motorbike and a pendant. He'd thought it was from Dorea, but turns out she had given it to him from his father and he'd been none the wiser. It brought tears to his eyes, just thinking about it. This entire time his father had loved him...and had let him believe that Orion didn't care.

Shaking off his lingering thoughts of his father, whom he had spoken to more this morning while Harry and Corvus were at the Ministry. Rodolphus had been busy with the books from the shop and Rabastan something to do with his magazine or something. It had led to a bit too much thinking, which had led to his anger getting the better of him regarding Moody hurting his godson.

His godson who had been through too much already.

And Moody had dared to try and take away his powers? His godson's life? Oh, no, that wouldn't go unpunished.

None of his therapists calming exercises worked anymore, really it had only been a matter of time before this happened. Taking another step forward, his pendant glowed purple, its eyes would have looked very eery at night, but it was daytime, so it was more of a dim glow that encompassed the grim of his pendant. His thoughts turned to the other culprit; her spell could have killed Harry twice over. If Filius hadn't come when he had. Her spell had been so powerful that he was raised so far in the air it had bypassed the stairs protections and nothing not even Harry could survive a seven-flight fall. Given how powerful his godson was...his body wouldn't survive without his magic, but that was just his own speculation.

Did he kill Granger? Could he? He knew his own mind by her age, knew right from wrong. Chosen his side on a war, and actually been content with his lot in life. Everything had been so simple back then, teenagers, they thought they knew everything. He thought he knew everything...he'd grown and learnt though. It wasn't like she would be easily found in Azkaban prison, despite having no priors surely Granger wouldn't get away with almost killing the last heir of a noble and most ancient line. So, it was a decision he'd make when she was released from the prison, he would know by the end of the night.

Stepping through another ward, he was suddenly hit with a vision of a property. He actually lived inside a mountain? Or more accurately a cabin in the face of a mountain. Certainly secluded, he'd met Moody before, nearby, a mile down, so he'd known his place was around here somewhere.

Movement caught his attention, Moody, who had previously just moments ago been collecting vegetables, was staring at him suspiciously, eye whirling around, expecting others to be there. More specifically the Lestrange's or Voldemort. "You," you could barely see his eye was open he had it narrowed so far.

Sirius easily got into battle mode, his limbs loose and ready to move, well aware of what or rather whom he was taking on. Wand held in his hand, spells he hadn't used before mulling around his mind. "Moody." He retorted shortly, "You really shouldn't have touched my godson." Charlus and Alastor had been good friends as teenagers, it's where he had gotten the spell. Charlus had been thoroughly ashamed of himself. So much so that he hadn't even came near Lestrange manors portraits since he revealed he was actually to blame. How he had remembered it so long was a surprise. More so than the fact Moody hadn't known the spell would backfire. Had he learned nothing from his family? Truth was his family hadn't bothered with the family grimoire in near enough half a century. It had been long ago forgotten and abandoned in a vault; too paranoid they always revealed their secrets down the line through word of mouth.