When at last I thought I had him forever, he slipped through my fingers again.
When at last I thought I could find that ray of sunshine in the sudden storm, it disappeared behind even darker storm clouds.
There was no way I could continue chasing th...
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Those were the first words he spoke to me the minute I sat at his table in the Hog's Head, early the next morning. No hello, no I'm surprised you're still here--just a raised eyebrow and scowl that was hard to decipher.
Ever since Alastor Moody Disapparated me from the surprise graduation party we held for Bill in the Three Broomsticks a few months back, I always thought he was a little paranoid. I figured it came with the fact that he was a celebrated Auror, as Tonks had mentioned the night before--he always had to be on the lookout for any dark wizards, and there were more of them now with Rakepick's betrayal. Still, to have them stroll around the wizarding world, undetected? Was that really possible?
No wonder he'd wanted me to meet with him the minute he managed to lose another enemy's trail. He could only stay for so long before something else happened.
"No, I don't think so." I glanced around uncertainly around the Inn, fists clenching at the mere thought of a known enemy bursting through the door.
"And you didn't tell anyone you were coming to meet me...?" Moody asked me then.
"Only Rowan," I said plainly.
"Rowan!" Moody's jaw dropped when he heard of it, his eyes widening--er, or rather, his normal eye widened while his other brilliant blue eyeball whizzed in his makeshift socket. "Who's Rowan?"
"Rowan Khanna. A friend at Hogwarts," I responded calmly.
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That, at least, was true. After Dumbledore's speech, Rowan and I couldn't help but wonder what Dumbledore meant when he said he wanted to let the authorities handle Rakepick and the Cursed Vaults. It had to mean that word about my disappearance had leaked out somehow.
"I'm sure it got back to Dumbledore that Mad-Eye Moody sought me out."
"Mr. Moody, you Disapparated me out of a party in front of all my friends," I told him carefully, placing my trembling hands on the table. "It wasn't exactly a secret."
"Fair enough," Moody said with a shrug. "And call me Mad-Eye. Enough others do."
Not like I didn't know that Mad-Eye didn't have a nickname beforehand, but if he wanted me to address him as such, why not? After all, he did notice that I was wearing a similar outfit to his--a tan overcoat with a navy blue zip-up sweater inside, belts criss-crossing every which way near my waist, and a pair of navy blue pants and boots to match. Perhaps it was out of respect for that little detail. Or it was so he could move the conversation along a lot faster.
