A Little Knowledge

Several weeks passed with steady improvement, especially for Martin, who was beginning to do well in Transfigurations again. He was forced to admit that his mother was a hard taskmistress, piling assignment after assignment upon his class, not to mention her more advanced classes. They were beginning to resent her, even the Ravenclaws, or so Martin gathered from overheard conversations in the common room and elsewhere. The girls were taking the change in stride, although Olivia was starting to suffer from headaches due to the additional teeth grinding caused by Professor McGonagall and her teaching methods. The other girls were rather impressed by the grueling pace and struggled to prove themselves by keeping up, not to mention the fact that they were helping Olivia and, to an only slightly lesser degree, Martin to do the same.

And thoughts of the vampire eventually drifted to the very backs of their minds as they settled into a steady routine of classes, studying, occasional games of wizard’s chess, and more frequent late night chats that revolved around the next Quidditch match and classes instead of the undead fiend lurking in the forest.


The better part of a month had passed when the girls and Martin found themselves walking through the corridors in the late afternoon on their way from the library to the Aerie.

Sissy, who had received very high marks on her defense assignment, which Professor Knowles had finally returned, was wearing a smug sort of smile that annoyed Olivia and Sophia, whose marks were quite good, but obviously nothing compared to their friend’s effort, who had been a solid O. They could not quite ascertain how Knowles had read the assignments, much less marked them. It was a little mystery, though none of them, except perhaps Sissy, had any interest in delving into the matter.

Corinna, who was being subjected to daily morning practice sessions due to evening curfew restrictions on the Quidditch teams, was still yawning, not having quite adjusted to this part of her life yet. Around four o’clock or so she would begin to look bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived, although this did not stop her from joining the late night talks, which might have been just as problematic for her as the early practices. Clearly, she wasn’t getting enough sleep.

As they made their way toward the tower, they paused at a window that looked out of the grounds. A snowstorm of some magnitude had blown in from the north that afternoon, covering the school with inches of snow and dark, forbidding clouds. Corinna frowned as she stood there sandwiched between Martin and Olivia, watching the snow as it fell and obscured their view.

“Something’s wrong,” she stated simply.

Sissy looked over Olivia’s head at her and asked, “Expecting an invasion of Yeti are we?”

“Where is your uncle?” Corinna asked Martin.

He felt a sudden chill, but it wasn’t from the frigid weather outside. Something in her tone and expression frightened him more than he thought it really should have.

“I don’t know,” he replied with a blank look.

“We should find him,” she said, stepping away from the window.

Sissy noted that she looked more pale than usual and anxious as well. The sleepiness was gone too.

“Tell us why,” said Sissy.

Corinna opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She turned suddenly and looked down the long corridor. At the very end stood a heavily robed figure with a hood drawn over its face. She pointed a trembling hand toward it without uttering another word.

Olivia and Martin gasped aloud, recognizing the shape: the vampire. For a moment Olivia fervently prayed that it was just Zabini on his way to his evening lessons. But she knew better. This was a familiar tall, gaunt figure that was much more imposing than young Zabini, who always wore school robes and house colors, even during the hours when he required an extra cloak as protection against the sunlight that filtered through the windows on less cloudy days.

Sissy snapped into action as she realized that it was moving toward them with eerie, gliding paces as its footsteps made no sound upon the stone.

“Run. I think I can hold it off ...” she began to tell them, grabbing Sophia and Corinna by the arms and thrusting them toward the opposite end of the corridor and away from the approaching vampire.

“No,” said Sophia, though she desperately wanted to do exactly as Sissy suggested. She wanted to run, but to leave any of their number behind was unthinkable.

“You’re mad!” exclaimed Martin, having the same thoughts as he grabbed Sissy and began pushing her in the same direction as the other girls.

Olivia needed no prompting, pointing frantically toward the stairs leading more or less in the direction of Moody’s rooms. “Come on!” she nearly shrieked.

They all knew what she meant, and it wasn’t a bad plan. The safest place in the school for them was probably the well-warded and portrait-guarded Aerie, but failing that, Alastor seemed capable of protecting them.

Corinna had turned nearly ashen, but followed as they began hastening toward the stairs at the nearer end of the passage.

Sissy dropped back and took a deep breath before casting a spell: “Caminus!”

A thin wall of flame sprang up from the stone floor of the castle, stretching from wall to wall and cutting the vampire off. Or so Sissy hoped. She knew they generally hated fire, but she also imagined that the vampire would have very little trouble freezing the flames or extinguishing them. But if that bought them more time, it was well worth the effort.

“Hurry!” called Martin anxiously, pausing on the bottom step to wait for her even as he pushed Corinna ahead of him.

Sissy quickened her pace and dashed up the stairs after her friends, all of whom had followed her example and drawn their wands. She smiled grimly, knowing that they would not go down without a fight.

A few frantic minutes later they reached the quarters belonging to Mister Moody, not knowing whether they were still being pursued or not. Martin hurriedly, but quietly spoke his password, thrust the door open, and all five of them piled into the sitting room. Martin closed the door hard behind them and made sure the lock caught. He was breathing heavily, nearly panting. They all were, and not just from the run.

“Alastor?” Martin called loudly.

His slightly shrill voice echoed off the walls, but there was no reply. His uncle wasn’t in his chambers. The fire had burned low in the hearth, which meant that Alastor had probably been out for hours. There was no way of knowing where he had gone nor when he would return.

“What are we going to do?” asked Olivia plaintively, twisting her fingers together in dismay even as she clutched at her wand.

The other girls were staring at Martin as well, except, of course, for Sissy who had rushed to the window to check the latch and make sure they were secure. There was no way to be certain that the room was as well warded as the dormitories, although if she had known Martin’s uncle a bit better, she would have realized that she had no need for concern there.

“We’re safe. It can’t get in,” said Martin in a firm voice. The fear he felt was carefully and almost completely masked in that instant. He was certain that the rooms were safe. Alastor had told him that he would be safe there. He trusted his uncle and his wards.

“But it is in the castle,” said Sissy, taking a deep, calming breath. “We should attempt to warn ... someone.”

“We can’t go back out there,” said Sophia quickly.

“I know that,” answered Sissy very sharply before turning toward the fireplace where there was a small pot of floo powder on the mantle.

Martin took her meaning and asked, “Who? My father? Mum?”

“Your father would be my first choice. He could alert the other professors and your uncle quite easily I should think,” answered Sissy, walking over to the fireplace with Martin at her heels. She grabbed the jar of floo powder and handed it to Martin. “Hurry,” she urged without her voice losing any of its calm clarity.

The other girls gathered around as Martin cleared his throat, tossed a handful of powder into the fireplace, and said, “Headmaster’s office.”

He then stuck his head into the fire, noticing that his shoulders wouldn’t quite fit. The floo was set up for talking only; no one could enter or leave through it. He considered this, at that moment, both a blessing and a curse, for while the vampire could not get in that way, neither could they get out.

The office was empty, as far as Martin could tell, except for his father’s phoenix, which was sleeping with its scarlet head tucked under one wing.

“Father?” Martin called, rousing the magnificent bird, which regarded him with disapproval and dignified annoyance, which was, of course, how the bird nearly always looked at him.

There was no reply. His father, whom Martin knew was a very busy wizard, was obviously elsewhere. Martin sighed to himself and looked to the phoenix, which was still staring.

“Fawkes, do you know where my father is?” he asked the phoenix hopefully.

It blinked at him coolly and let off a trilling note. Martin wasn’t sure if this was an affirmative or not. After all, no one of his tender years could claim to be fluent in phoenix.

“I really need his help ...” Martin hinted.

Fawkes ruffled his feathers and flew out the nearest window. Martin was sincerely hoping that it had gone for help and that he had not merely bored or offended it.

Pulling his head from the fireplace, Martin looked at the girls and said, “He isn’t in his office.”

“He could be anywhere in the castle then,” said Sissy with a grim look. “Try your mother’s office,” she suggested.

Martin nodded and took another handful of powder before trying again.

The office of the transfigurations’ professor was very dimly lit, almost dark, and a bit chilly. No one, he imagined, had been there for hours, least of all his mum, who would not have approved of the chilliness. He remembered then that she liked to mark papers in her classroom in the afternoons and was probably there. His heart sank. The classroom didn’t have floo access, did it?

“No luck,” he said as he removed his head from the hearth.

“We can’t call Knowles,” said Olivia as Sissy started to open her mouth. “We need someone who can stop the vampire,” she added.

Sissy narrowed her eyes and said, “He would know where everyone’s got off to.”

“Yeah, perhaps,” said Olivia, “but wouldn’t he mostly likely try to stop it himself? I can’t imagine that ending nicely for him nor for us.” She had a good point, which Sissy acknowledged only privately as she continued to glower just a bit.

“Professor Krohn...” suggested Sophia, who had taken up Olivia’s habit of wringing her hands as she glanced uncomfortably toward the door.

She knew quite well that he was not the best person to fight a vampire, but she also knew that he would readily sound the alarm, and after nearly losing a student to the creature, he would take the threat quite seriously.

Martin nodded, remembering how un-Slytherin his conduct had been when dealing with Sophia and the curse Black had used on her. He had been rather brave then in Martin’s opinion. Of course, they were also becoming desperate and as beggars they couldn’t be choosers. Time was of the essence here. He handed the pot of floo powder to Sophia and moved out of her way.

“Professor Krohn,” she said, sticking her head into the fireplace. Sophia would never have mentioned it, but despite growing up in a wizarding household, it was her first time using a floo like this. It was more than a little disconcerting for her.

A few rather confusing moments later she saw Krohn seated in front of her on what looked like a very comfortable green sofa, obviously enjoying a few quiet moments by the fire and sipping what appeared to be cognac. He had already taken his hair down, letting it spill onto the back of the sofa behind him and into his closed eyes. The professor appeared to be very relaxed and restful. If not for the urgency of the situation, Sophia would certainly have never dreamed of disturbing him.

“Sir,” she said timidly to get his attention.

Krohn started and nearly spilled his drink as he sat up and glared at her.

“This is highly inappropriate, Miss Colville. These are my personal chambers! How did you get floo access to them? I demand an explanation,” he said, setting the drink aside and hastily buttoning the top buttons of his robes.

“We ... My friends and I have been chased by the vampire. We’ve taken refuge in Mister Moody’s rooms, but he isn’t here and we can’t contact the headmaster,” she explained as swiftly as she could.

“The vampire? In the castle? Where?” he asked as the glare dissolved.

“We saw it in the corridor a level down, but Sissy put up a wall of fire to stop it ... so that we could escape ... I don’t know where it is now, professor, but we’re ... concerned and thought someone should be alerted,” she said in a calm and even tone that she was even surprised she could manage given the situation.

She noticed a slight twitch of Krohn’s lips before he spoke. If the situation had not been so serious, he would have found her cool collectedness, her near nonchalance, quite comical.

“Good thinking. I’ll alert the staff. Stay there until someone comes for you. Don’t do anything foolish and tell your friends to do the same,” he said, leaving the couch. “And you may want to block that floo ... unless Moody had the foresight to ward it against unauthorized entry,” he added as an afterthought.

“Of course,” she agreed, watching him race toward the door.

Sophia sneezed as she pulled her head from the flames. There was a lot of floo powder in the air, and it made her nose a bit itchy.

“Well? Well?” asked Olivia impatiently.

“It’s taken care of. Professor Krohn has gone to warn everyone. He wants us to stay here in the meantime,” answered Sophia.

“No chance of us going anywhere,” scoffed Olivia before collapsing heavily onto the couch. In her case the fright was obviously starting to wear off.

Martin was about to agree whole-heartedly with that statement when he noticed Corinna staring fixedly at the door. Her complexion had gone from very pale to a distinctly ashen hue. She looked as though she might be sick at any moment.

“Corinna?” he called hesitantly, starting toward her and hoping she wasn’t going to have another vision as he found them rather scary.

“I think ... I think perhaps I should have warned him after all,” she said quietly, stepping back from the door with slow, uncertain steps.

Then they heard something that made their blood run cold. A sound like a draft of air blowing through a sepulcher: the approach of the vampire. There was a faint popping sound followed by a rustle of clothing as bat became wizard again in the corridor just outside their hiding place.

“I know you’re in there ... Send the boy out, and I will spare the rest of you,” said a hissing voice on the other side of the door.

Martin and Corinna recognized that voice immediately. It was the vampire, the creature who had formerly been Professor Somerville and who was once the resident of the room in which they were currently cowering.

Corinna shrank back even further from the door, but Sissy left her place near the hearth and approached it instead, remembering that the vampire could most likely not Legilimence her through the door. She pushed Martin toward the couch and gestured for Olivia and Sophia to stay where they were.

“You are not welcome here. Go back to where ever you came from,” said Sissy in the most firm and composed tone she could manage. To her friends, she sounded very brave and utterly fearless.

The door knob rattled, but did not turn. There was a soft hiss.

“To whom do I speak?” asked the vampire.

“To the one who nearly knocked you on your undead arse earlier in the term,” she said, “and by Merlin I’ll do it again if you don’t leave us alone.”

Sissy was doing her best to be brave, not because she was brave or even felt brave, but because nothing could be gained through cringing or being afraid. But to be perfectly fair, Sissy was just as terrified as the rest of them, except perhaps Corinna, who seemed scared half to death, though not necessarily of just the vampire itself. She obviously had a lot on her mind. Sissy, however, was strictly speaking very afraid of what would happen to them, Martin especially, should the vampire gain entry to the room and trying her best not to show her fear.

“Ah... awfully brave, aren’t you? We’ll see how you feel when I have this door down,” said the vampire in a perilous tone that was seething with cold fury.

Sissy heard it whisper an unlocking spell, but it was to no avail; Moody had warded the door too well for that. Only the password or sheer brute force would open it from without. Her mouth went dry at the thought of the vampire forcing the door. She knew that vampires were often credited with having super-human strength.

“A barricade. We need a barricade,” she said out loud, but to no one in particular, suddenly eyeing the furniture.

Sophia must have recognized the look in her eyes because she sprang up and immediately shooed Olivia off the couch, drawing her wand as she did so. Sissy favored her with a grim smile.

“Toward the door,” Sissy explained to the others in a low voice. “Wingardium Leviosa!” she said, levitating the sofa.

Sophia spoke the incantation as well, helping Sissy to move the heavy sofa in front of the door before they released it and wedged it against the only conventional entrance to the room.

Martin and Olivia were quick to grab a small endtable between them, although considering the situation, and the fact that of the two of them only Olivia was proficient at using a levitation charm on such a large object, used their hands instead of their wands. They placed it on top of the sofa, leaned against the door, which rattled again as the vampire tried another spell.

Then Martin heard a sound that inspired both elation and cold apprehension in equal measure, making his heart seem to leap and plummet at the same moment.

“You! Get away from there!” barked the voice of Alastor Moody in the hallway.

The loud shout was quickly followed by a strong hex and an agonized shriek from the vampire. Possibly a mere mortal would have been done for at that point, but this was no mere wizard. Instead of fleeing or succumbing to the hex, the vampire fired an unfamiliar spell back at Moody.

“It’s a duel,” said Sissy as incantations were flung back and forth at a remarkable speed that was faster than even she could follow. She only managed to pick out a few defensive spells, blocking spells and shielding charms, interspersed between strong hexes and wicked curses that no other second year would even have recognized as such.

Martin shivered and moved closer to the barricade to listen as the Auror fought their undead foe. His heart was hammering in his chest as he waited for Alastor to finish the creature.

“Reducto!” they heard the vampire shout moments later.

The spell was followed by a loud, howling cry of pain and anguish from Moody and a marginally quieter thud of something heavy hitting the floor. Another sound that Martin did not recognize, like a splattering sound, had accompanied this, but he paid it no heed as he started to remove the table. Whatever had happened, his Uncle Alastor needed his help. He knew that much and was determined to go to his aid.

“Stop,” said Sissy, grabbing him by the shoulders and jerking him away from the couch and the door. Olivia and Sophia grabbed his arms to help her.

“I’ve got to ...” he began in a panicked voice, struggling blindly against his friends.

“No,” Corinna interrupted, “you can’t, Martin.” She stepped in front of Martin and wrapped her arms tightly around his chest to assist the others in restraining him.

They could not allow him to open the door under any circumstances. No matter what had just happened to Mister Moody, they couldn’t let him into the corridor. They couldn’t help him, but they could try to protect Martin.

Martin continued to struggle against his friends as silence settled in the hallway outside. No more hexes nor curses. Nothing.

“Let go,” he pleaded with Sissy, who had the strongest grip. He was sure than without her pinching fingers knotting his robes and digging into his shoulders, he could have thrown the other girls off in an instant. Perhaps he underestimated them.

“Martin ... you can’t help him. Be sensible,” she said through clenched teeth.

A disturbing, malevolent chuckle from outside made his heart pound in terror.

“So predictable,” said the vampire contemptuously. “Caerphilly Catapults,” he said in a derisive tone.

The Catapults, who were having a wonderful season so far that year, were Moody’s favorite team, but to Martin’s knowledge he never talked about Quidditch all that much, making the team name a very handy password. Not that that bit of knowledge mattered so much at the moment...

“Legilimency,” whispered Sissy, realizing how the vampire had got the password from Moody.

The door began to creak open, but it was stopped by the barrier they had erected and did not budge more than half an inch. They all moved back from the door, Martin somewhat unwillingly. He could hardly breathe as he thought of his uncle, who was possibly lying dead in the corridor, and of what would happened to all of them when the vampire finally found a way to force the door. His blood ran cold as he imagined what it would do to the young witches, especially impertinent Sissy.

Pale fingers grasped the door to pry it open. Corinna made a frightened squeaking sound and pressed her face into Martin’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and began preparing himself for a fight, though Sophia still had him by his wand arm. Sissy released his right shoulder to go for her wand and was about to tell her friends to do the same.

But then they heard the sound of running feet and frantic voices outside in the corridor. Martin recognized his father’s voice among them as well as Krohn, Flitwick, and, surprisingly, Knowles. The pale fingers disappeared from the door and the vampire could be heard as well, tossing curses willy-nilly at the professors.

“Don’t let it get away!” cried the squeaky voice of their head of house above the din.

A chorus of voices shouted Stupefy, but by the sound of it, none of the spells connected with the vampire. Sissy imagined, quite rightly, that it had changed into bat form and flown away.

“What happened? What happened? Did we get the creature?” asked Professor Knowles loudly. By the sound of him, he was nearly breathless from their sprint through the corridor.

“Merlin! Alastor!” Martin heard his father say. There was shock and anguish undisguised in his voice.

“His leg ... my God,” gasped Krohn.

“Father!” Martin yelled as the girls loosened their grip upon him.

“Stay inside, son,” called Dumbledore in a very serious tone.

Martin threw the girls off and grabbed the table, tossing it heedlessly away from the door with a crash.

“Help me move the sofa,” he pleaded with his friends. There were tears in his eyes as he tried to budge it on his own. “My uncle, please, you have to...” he said, looking at Sissy and hoping she would understand.

“Martin, listen to your father,” said Moody in an anguished voice on the other side of the blocked door.

Corinna gasped aloud and pointed to the floor under the sofa. There was a pool of red liquid slowly oozing its way underneath the door.

“Blood,” she said in a sickly voice.

Martin moved away, but his eyes remained riveted in horror. He knew instinctively that the crimson liquid belonged to Alastor. He must have been injured very badly to bleed so much. Martin’s ears were ringing, but he could still hear the next order Alastor gave.

“Cauterize it,” he said in a hoarse, choking voice.

Sophia made a soft gagging sound and turned away, squeezing her eyes shut, as an incantation was spoken by Professor Dumbledore. Alastor gave a muted cry of agony that they could not fail to hear.

“Alastor?” called Martin in a tremulous voice.

“I think it’s safe, but you don’t want to go out there,” said Corinna, who was holding a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were bulging. “Trust me, Martin, you just don’t want to,” she said.

Martin could tell that she knew exactly what was going on outside, but that was not enough to dissuade him.

“Please ...” said Martin, tugging at Sissy’s sleeve.

“All right,” she acquiesced. “If it’s safe, then I suppose I shouldn’t stop you.”

Olivia nodded too, looking very pale and frightened. Between the two of them Olivia and Sissy shifted the sofa far enough from the door for Martin to open it, carefully avoiding the blood, and slip through. Sissy, Sophia, and Olivia followed. Their curiosity overpowered their fear. Corinna remained behind because she knew all too well what awaited them in the corridor.

Martin’s stomach lurched at what he saw.

“Alastor?” he whimpered, looking down at where Moody was prone on the floor not far away.

From the knee down Alastor was missing one of his legs, which had been the victim of the Reductor Curse, and had obviously bled profusely before the wound had been cauterized. Professor Dumbledore was kneeling next to the Auror as he had been the one to close the wound. Flitwick was trying very awkwardly to comfort Alastor as he convulsed in pain.

“Laddie, you shouldn’t see this,” said Alastor through his teeth.

“He’s right,” said Dumbledore, looking from Martin to the girls, all of whom looked very ill, even Sissy, who was clutching at her stomach, which had turned somersaults upon seeing Moody. “Reynard, get them out of here,” instructed Dumbledore.

Sophia looked down the corridor several paces just in time to see Krohn vomit very quietly and unobtrusively in a corner, possibly not for the first time. His complexion appeared to have turned a little green. Sophia, who had nearly been ill as well, felt quite sympathetic as she averted her eyes.

“A moment ...” said Krohn before gagging and retching again.

Knowles frowned and tucked his cane into the crook of his elbow.

“I can take them away from here,” he offered, smelling blood in the air, and he was well aware of how much blood it required to tinge the air with its ferric scent. He did not know, but everyone else, including the young students, could see that the walls and the door had been splattered with the substance as well.

Martin ignored the conversation entirely as he knelt next to Alastor. He dashed the tears from his eyes and lifted one of his uncle’s hands, squeezing it tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Martin whimpered.

“What for? I nearly got him. Ruined his pretty face at any rate,” said Moody, shuddering from the pain, which would not dissipate. “Now, go. You go with Knowles like a good lad,” he instructed.

“Yes,” said Dumbledore, “because we’ll be moving Alastor to the hospital wing in just a moment.”

“I should have warned him,” whispered Corinna from behind Olivia and Sissy. She had finally found the courage to join them in the corridor.

“Not your fault,” said Olivia, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly.

“Come on,” said Sissy, grasping Martin by the arm and attempting to pull him up. She felt a wave of mild dizziness and nausea as she realized that she was standing in Moody’s blood. There was blood on her shoes. An Auror’s blood on her shoes. It required everything within her not to sway with dizziness.

“Go, laddie,” said Alastor in a weak voice.

“I’ll take you all directly to the hospital wing,” said Knowles impatiently.

Martin nodded and released his uncle’s hand before climbing to his feet. Sophia and Olivia were quick to take his arms and pull him away with them.

He blinked away the tears, knowing they were right. He couldn’t do anything for his uncle. He was only in the way and slowing them down. He looked at Alastor one last time before walking willingly away with Sophia and Olivia, who were being trailed by a very contrite Corinna.

Martin wasn’t the only one with tears in his eyes. Sophia and Olivia were tearful as well. Mister Moody had been very nice to them, and they both admired him after their own fashion. Corinna was shivering, but there were no tears in her eyes, only blankness and emptiness. She had known that this might happen, though she had thought that Moody would get the better of the vampire. She had hoped that he would.

But Sissy tried to keep up a stony facade as she approached Professor Knowles and carefully took his arm. She was also making every attempt not to tremble, but she had never seen anything so gruesome as Moody’s injury. Nothing in any of her experiences matched that.

“Miss Howard,” acknowledged Knowles, putting his hand on top of hers, “come with me. We should all make good time to the hospital wing.”

“Yes, professor,” she said.

Knowles knew by her voice that she was afraid. He imagined that everyone who heard her speak could tell. He could not fault her for that. To be so young and witness something so horrible...

“Come,” he said to them, starting down the corridor.

Behind them Sissy could hear Dumbledore and Flitwick preparing to move Moody. Professor Dumbledore was conjuring a stretcher, which would be a less traumatic method of transport than a Mobilicorpus spell would have been.

“He will be all right. Moody is very strong,” said Knowles in an even voice.

“He’s just lost a leg, sir,” said Sissy quietly, glancing at Martin who seemed to be going into some sort of shock. He was fortunate to have Sophia and Olivia at his side, preventing him from stumbling and guiding him on his way.

“But he will survive,” said Knowles forcefully.

“Yes,” said Sissy very softly in agreement, “I suppose he will.” She did not want to disagree with him.

Professor Knowles squeezed her hand. He was aware that they were moving more quickly that the other four students, who were several paces behind, and decided to take advantage of that.

“Are the others ... upset as well?” he questioned.

“I’m not upset,” she defended with a slight sniff that could not be stifled.

“Are they then?”

“Yes ... Martin thinks of Mister Moody as part of his family ... as his uncle,” she replied, glancing back at them and slowing her steps accordingly.

Knowles took the hint and slowed as well. “I am sorry. I never wanted anything like this to happen to Moody. He was a dedicated Auror, one of the best in the field. His career is almost certainly over now,” said Knowles in a very low voice.

Sissy realized for the first time that Knowles was troubled too. Whatever competitive feeling he may have harbored toward Alastor Moody, his feelings were not ones of hatred. In fact, Sissy believed, especially now, that he grudgingly respected the other wizard as an Auror.

“Over?” she repeated questioningly.

“Few wizards could overcome such a disability as the loss of a limb,” he stated.

“You could ...” Sissy told him.

Knowles gave her a wry look and said, “I gave up that job with a far less horrible and debilitating injury.”

Sissy glanced at him uncomfortably, but said nothing further on the matter. She didn’t want to know about the injury Knowles had received during the war. It was a very personal topic that he had only mentioned once.

They all continued in silence, walking, almost trudging, to the hospital wing. Nothing could be said that would make any of them, Martin least of all, feel any better. The situation was too terrible for that.

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