Carnival of Dark and Dangerous Creatures

A/N: As always, my humble thanks go to Zarathustra and SortingHat47 for their patience, suggestions, comments, and corrections.

Chapter 4: Alastor Moody

Wednesday, 22 May, 1985--5:10 p.m.

Minutes crawled to the point that hours were nonexistent. Remus had paced the length and width of his cell at least eight hundred times, he guessed; he had lost count somewhere around four hundred eighty. His demand for representation, for his right to send an owl, even his simple request to get Alastor Moody -- all were denied.

He didn't bother to ask if he could have any salve for his burned wrists. They probably would have just given him something with silver nitrate or aconite in it.

There was a small window set into the top of the wall, and he watched as the sunlight disappeared. Was it raining? Or was the day drawing to a close? A Ministry worker in maintenance department robes hurried past his cell and he tried to ask what time it was, but the man gave him such a look of loathing and fear that he didn't even finish the question.

He finally dozed with his back against the wall, awakening only to curse his temper, the Ministry, and Carmichael. And would there be any harm in bringing him a glass of water? And what bastard had his jacket?

A door slammed somewhere down at the end of the hall, but he didn't bother to look up. It was probably another Ministry worker sent to look at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"Got yourself Stunned, did you, Lupin?"

Both of Alastor Moody's eyes were fastened on him; the magical eye was alarmingly still.

"I was tired and didn't much care at that point what I said. It was stupid," he admitted.

"Took me a hell of a lot of talking to convince them you weren't one of them boys who're following Greyback."

Remus sighed. "I can only imagine."

Moody rested his forearms on a horizontal bar and leaned on it casually. "Sarcasm is apparently one of those things that werewolf hunters aren't particularly keen on."

"I noticed."

"Have you learned your lesson?"

"Sufficiently." Remus couldn't help the grin that suddenly developed. "At least for now."

Moody snorted then reached for his wand. He made a short, jabbing motion and the tumblers in the lock clicked. "I sent a note to Alatza for you," he told Remus.

"Saying what, precisely?"

"That you'd had some trouble with the Ministry, but I'd have you back in the morning." Moody pulled the door open.

Remus groaned, thinking of having to Floo back to Greece in the same manner that he had come back to Britain. Another sleepless night on top of everything today...

"I've arranged a Portkey for you." Moody motioned for him to move. "Or rather, I've arranged for you to tag along on a Portkey that someone is taking to Athens tomorrow morning."

The werewolf slowly got to his feet. "I don't know what to say."

"Say that you'll listen to me the next time I tell you not to give the WCU reason to notice you. Now come on."

"What time is it?"

"Time for a bit more unpleasantness." The Auror slammed the door shut behind him. "You came back for the annuals, and you haven't had yours yet."

"Damn."

Moody started to limp along the hallway toward to the door. "You're going to get yourself arrested if you don't get this done today, you realize."

Well, he realized it now that the older man had pointed it out. "They're really out to get me, aren't they?"

"They're out to get any one of you idiotic enough to cross them." Moody glared at him meaningfully.

Remus was silent as Moody escorted him from the second floor to the fourth.

"Do I need to remind you to bite your tongue?" Moody asked as the lift door opened.

"No, sir. Absolutely not, sir."

The Auror gave him a sharp look, which softened almost immediately. "Good lad," he said with a soft chuckle.

They went down the hall to the Registry Offices. Doors on either side of the hallway were closed up tight, and the windows dark, so Remus knew it was past time to go home. Dinner time, his stomach reminded him noisily. He noticed Moody's sidelong glance, but ignored it. He had to prepare himself for whatever ordeal lay in front of him now.

There were still two other werewolves waiting in the makeshift waiting room when Remus walked in. Jane had been replaced by Margie, whose face brightened when she saw Remus.

"Mr Lupin! Jane told me to watch out for you. Here." She reached under the table and withdrew his jacket. Glancing around quickly, she leaned closer to him. "She took it when they took you downstairs. Hennessey," her lip twisted with disgust, "was going to take it with him. Jane grabbed it when he wasn't looking."

Remus took the jacket and thanked her, telling her to thank Jane as well. The werewolf's fists clutched the jacket tightly, so much so that the thing would have suffocated, had it been alive.

Margie excused herself to get back to work, and Remus and Alastor seated themselves.

"That's a nice jacket, Lupin," Moody observed.

"Yes," Remus replied curtly.

The Auror gently rubbed the collar between his thumb and finger. "Good leather. Was it a gift?"

A muscle in Remus' jaw twitched. "Yes."

Moody peered at him expectantly. "Are you going to tell me who gave you the thing?" he asked finally.

"James and Lily got it for me for my birthday. Peter and...Sirius...also chipped in."

Moody was saved having to say anything because Margie came back in the room and called Remus' name. Remus turned and suddenly thrust the jacket at Moody. "Would you...?"

The Auror nodded. "And I'll be waiting out here for you, lad. I'll make sure everyone knows it, too."

Remus turned away before the older man could see the relief and fear in his eyes, but knew the Auror could hear his whispered, "Thank you."

*******

6:26 p.m.

As far as interviews and physicals go, this one was somewhat less awful than most. Remus wondered how much of it was because the interview team and the healers were as anxious to go home as he was. They were even kind enough to heal the blistering on his wrists from the silver chains. Still, it was a little over an hour before he was finished and was permitted to leave.

When the door to the small interview room slammed shut behind him, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Freedom until next year, he thought, putting his hands behind his head and flexing shoulder muscles that were still achy.

"There you are, boy."

Moody's voice startled him. His arms fell to his side, and he immediately started to drop into a crouch.

"Good, good! Glad to see you haven't forgotten everything I taught you." The Auror was actually sniggering at him, and the younger man smiled self-consciously. "Ready for something to eat, Lupin?"

Remus hesitated. "Yes, but..."

"Come on, then." Moody tossed the leather coat at him and started down the hallway without waiting to see if Remus was going to follow him.

"Where are we going?" the werewolf asked when he caught up to Moody at the lifts.

"Home, of course." A lift door opened and the Auror stumped in. Remus remained frozen in place for just a moment longer. "Are you coming, boy, or not?"

"Uh, yes..."

The older man cocked his head to one side. "You got a better place to be? I cook a pretty good steak, if I say so myself."

"Steak is one of my favourites," Remus said, grinning finally.

Moody nodded. "Alright, then."

They rode to the main lobby exchanging comments about the weather and the ugly paint on the walls. As they reached the Eighth Floor though, Moody suddenly put his hand on Remus' arm. "When we get to the security desk, let me do the talking."

Should I ask? No. I'm not going to ask...

The Security guard looked up from a magazine: something pornographic, Remus supposed, because the man hid it quickly beneath a newspaper.

Moody marched up to the desk and pounded his fist on it. "Jamison, get the young man his wand, and make it quick. We've got places to go and things to do."

Jamison eyed the younger man up with a critical eye, but Remus bore the scrutiny patiently. After all, he had his clothes on now... "This the werewolf?"

"He's a werewolf," Moody replied. "That's what the red 'W' on the visitor's tag means. Is he the werewolf? How the hell should I know? There was a bunch of 'em in here today. What particular werewolf are you talking about?"

"Higgins was down here earlier..."

"Higgins has the brains of a pixie and the balls of a bowtruckle," snorted the older wizard. "Now, give him his wand before I give you an extra nipple."

Remus bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Jamison's shocked expression made Moody's comment even more hilarious. Sirius would have appreciated... Don't think of Sirius!

"Hey, I don't have a problem with it; I just don't want Higgins taking this all up with my supervisor and..."

"You let me deal with both of them," Moody snapped.

Jamison hesitated, but Remus knew at that moment that Moody was going to win this argument.

Moody leaned on the desk with both hands. "You want to get the werewolf angry at you? Hand him his wand so we can get going. I'm not telling you again."

The wand suddenly appeared on the desk, as if by magic. Jamison sat back in his chair and picked up his magazine. "If I get reprimanded, Moody, I'm gonna..."

"Yeah, yeah," Moody said, waving his hand dismissively and already stepping away from the desk. "Let's go, Lupin."

Remus bared his teeth in a smile at Jamison, who drew back just the tiniest bit. Tucking his wand securely in his pocket, but keeping his fingers wrapped around it all the same, the werewolf followed the Auror.

*******

8:13 p.m.

Moody was right: he did prepare a good steak. He was a surprisingly good cook all around, Remus realized. The younger wizard helped clean up the dishes while Moody watched -- and critiqued -- his technique.

"You know, Lupin, I've always thought you had a good hand with charms. With your reflexes and your experience in the Order, you would have made one hell of an Auror."

"Except for the fact that I'm a werewolf and it's illegal."

Moody muttered something about the Ministry and "bloody fools" and "wouldn't know" something-or-other then shook his head. "Someday those laws are going to change..."

"I doubt I'll be alive to see it," Remus commented.

The other wizard grunted. "Bit of a pessimist, aren't you?"

He considered Moody's question carefully before he answered. "More of a realist, I think." He finished stacking the last plate in the cupboard and turned to face the Auror. "I don't have much choice in the matter but to face the reality of my situation, you know. It's either that or, well, give up."

Moody sat there regarding him for the longest moment. Remus didn't move. Suddenly the older man got up and headed for the sitting room. "Bring two glasses," he called over his shoulder.

Remus did as he was told and went into the other room, where he found Moody opening a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey.

"Dumbledore and I had a long talk about you not long after Voldemort disappeared," the older man said, pouring a generous amount into each glass. He motioned for Remus to sit on the couch, while he sat down in a large, leather wing-backed chair that, had Remus been able to sell it, would have gotten him his own flat for a month or two. "We were both impressed with what you were able to accomplish during the war, you know."

"It wasn't enough," Remus said flatly, reaching out to accept the glass that Moody was handing to him. He didn't know why the Auror was bringing this up now; he would've been just fine leaving it buried.

"Keeping the other werewolves out of it --"

"But the mission was to get them on our side," Remus told him.

Moody's gaze was piercing. "Sometimes you can reach your objective in ways you never thought you could. Dumbledore's words to you might have been to bring the werewolves into fighting Voldemort, but the whole point of it, really, was to keep them from fighting us. As far as I'm concerned, you accomplished your goal. There is more than one way to skin a Kneazle, you know."

"Not that I'd want to try." Remus smiled and raised the glass to his lips.

"True enough. But you see my point? You did well. And to go into those meetings and pubs without anyone to back you up was a damned brave thing to do, especially for a twenty-, twenty-one-year-old kid like you were."

"Some would call it stupid. I thought it a good bit about myself."

Moody smiled, but it faded quickly. "I didn't realize he told you to keep things to yourself. I thought you'd at least take Black with you." He and Remus both fell silent as they nursed their drinks and their thoughts. "I need to apologize to you, Lupin."

Remus' eyebrows shot up. "Why?"

"There at the end -- before the Potters died -- when we were looking for a spy in the Order, I rather thought it was you."

Moody's words suddenly took Remus back to a time he wanted very much to forget -- the whispers at the Order meetings, or worse, the silences; the fierce looks from Sirius; the doubt in James' eyes... Even McGonagall had looked askance at him. Only Dumbledore's sympathetic but commanding eyes kept Remus in the room and kept him coming back to the meetings. The younger man had begged to be let off of the meetings, but was told he needed to be aware of what was happening.

"I can't stand the way they look at me," Remus had whispered to Dumbledore after two particularly brutal confrontations in one night: the first in a pub with another werewolf and the other with Sirius at the Order meeting. He wasn't typically a whiner, but he ached physically from the fight in the pub and for the first time, at the meeting, he had seen uncertainty in Lily's eyes.

The Headmaster's grip was meant to be reassuring, but Remus felt the steel beneath it. "But didn't you hear how Moody said that Voldemort's confused about why the werewolves haven't rushed to join him? That's your influence, Remus, though you may not see it that way. You have as much right to be there as anyone -- maybe even more."

But Remus could only see how his work was pulling him further and further from those he loved, and was powerless to stop it. After all, who else could do what he was doing? How else was he supposed to protect those he still loved from Voldemort and his awful plans, or Fenrir and his horrible agenda? It was a task uniquely suited to Remus, and he knew it.

He shook off the memories and took a bracing drink of Firewhiskey. "Everyone thought it was me," Remus finally replied. "You don't have to apologize."

"Dumbledore was wrong for not letting you tell anyone what you were doing," Moody surprised him by saying. "I told him so, too."

Remus emptied the glass and set it down with a slight thud. "All of that's neither here nor there; especially here. And now."

"I can't help but think maybe things might have gone a bit -- differently, if only I'd known," Moody said. "If we'd all known."

"Alastor, I'm glad you saved my arse at the Ministry, and I'm more than grateful for the meal, but I do not want to talk about this now. Water under the bridge, spilt milk, and all that." He picked up the glass and held it out towards the other wizard.

Mercifully, Moody just filled it up without an apology or an explanation about why he was dredging up these memories. Instead, he asked Remus about Greece and the Alatzas, and leered along with the younger man at the thought of Alesia. That led to a few stories about some of the most interesting women Moody had known. Then they talked about places they'd visited, and places they hoped to visit some day. The older wizard was a good conversationalist, Remus realized. When he wasn't talking about secrets kept during the bloody war...

"I should be going back to the house," Remus said after another half-filled glass of Firewhiskey. "I'm exhausted." It was going to require some walking, too, because Moody had disconnected his Floo years ago, and Remus wasn't sure he could Apparate there without splinching himself at this point.

Moody lifted the nearly empty bottle and squinted at its contents. "There's only a bit more. Why don't you help me finish it off?"

"Then I won't be able to find my way off your street, much less the way to the Alatzas'."

Moody flipped a hand contemptuously in the air. "I've got a spare bedroom upstairs. You're welcome to it."

Remus was stunned by the offer. He had never known Alastor to open his house to anyone. "Are you... sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure. Why would I offer if I didn't mean it?"

The younger wizard laughed then nudged his glass in the Auror's direction. "You're not keeping me here to keep me out of trouble, are you?"

There was just the least bit of hesitation before Moody answered, "No," and Remus almost didn't catch it. Werewolf senses, however, made him aware of the other man's sudden tension.

He pulled his hand back slowly. "Gods, you are keeping me here to keep me out of trouble."

The other wizard shrugged. "Better to be safe than sorry."

"You think the Ministry's going to ambush me?" Remus asked, with a short burst of nervous laughter. "Or do you think I'm going to ambush them?"

"Not the Ministry," Moody said quietly.

It only took a second for it to sink in: "Carmichael."

The Auror said nothing. Instead, he placed his glass next to Remus'. Then he poured the remainder of the Firewhiskey so that the two glasses held the same amount. He motioned for the younger man to pick up his glass. Remus leaned forward, but only to put his face in his hands.

"You alright?"

"Tired." He was tired. Tired to the depths of his soul. "What time is the Portkey scheduled for?"

"Mid-morning, around ten."

The younger man nodded and drained his glass in one swallow. "If it's all the same with you, I think I'd like to go to bed."

Moody led him upstairs to the guest bedroom, pointing out the bathroom and where he could find a towel or an extra blanket. Within a matter of minutes, Remus was stretched out beneath the blankets, staring at the ceiling -- completely wide-awake.

*******

Thursday, 30 May--8:26 a.m.

The firm tapping on the door jerked Remus to consciousness. For a moment, he lay still, befuddled.

"Lupin, best get your tail moving. It's almost eight-thirty."

The voice from outside the door brought everything back to him, though he wasn't certain he was happy about it. "I'm up," he said loudly, sitting up and pushing back the blankets.

"Breakfast is ready," Moody informed him through the door before stomping back down the stairs.

Remus got dressed quickly and took advantage of his knowledge of where the towels were to give his face and neck a good wash. Nothing he could do about the two days growth of stubble that was already threatening to call itself a beard. He eyed Moody's deep porcelain tub with envy. A good soak would not be remiss either. Alesia would never touch him unless he rectified that later. He allowed himself a smile at the thought that he'd see her soon.

Over the breakfast of eggs and bacon, he asked, "Who is taking the Portkey to Athens? I'm going to guess that you weren't able to arrange a Portkey just for me."

Moody laughed. "I wondered how long it would be before you asked. I should kick you for not asking sooner."

Remus shrugged. "I figured it wouldn't be Carmichael, and that was enough for me."

"Could be Macnair."

"Is it?" The werewolf raised an eyebrow.

The Auror shook his head. "Of course not. But even if it had been him, I'd have tried to get you hooked in on it."

"So who is it?"

"Dumbledore."

Remus stared at him for a moment before the corners of his lips began to twitch. "He has important business in Athens the same day that I have to go back, does he?"

"He's a busy man, Dumbledore. No telling how or why he gets himself into these things." Moody turned away to begin washing some dishes.

The younger wizard finished his breakfast in silence. He wanted to ask Moody why he was going to all this trouble for a poor werewolf who wasn't even a relative. He wasn't certain he wanted to hear the answer. He didn't want to know if the Auror -- or the Headmaster either -- was doing this out of pity. He wasn't even sure he wanted to know that the motive was friendship; his friends had a tendency to end up dead or imprisoned. He shook his head to clear it. There'd be time for thinking things through later.

He picked up his dishes and started to carry them to the sink. Suddenly Moody turned, wand in hand, and cried, "Petrificus Totalus!"

Before Moody had finished speaking, Remus had thrown himself on the floor, dropping plate, glass, and tableware. As he fell, he was reaching for his wand, which was tucked in the pocket of his jeans.

Moody snapped a Conjunctivitis charm at him, and he shouted, "Protego!" as the spell left the Auror's wand. The spell fragmented into hundreds of little pieces that scattered everywhere like tiny invisible pebbles. The older wizard took the worst of the pelting, but was already calling out his next spell. Remus rolled to the side away from the ropes bursting from Moody's wand and sprang to his feet, yelling out a Jelly-Legs Jinx. Moody waved his wand in a quick, precise motion, dissipating the jinx before it had time to hit him. His Stunner shot out on the down-stroke of the motion. It grazed Remus' upper arm, numbing it and he grunted at the impact. Immediately, Moody dropped his wand onto the countertop and raised his hands, palm out.

"What in the hell did you do that for?" demanded Remus, once he was certain that Moody was done with this bit of unplanned duelling.

"I wanted to remind you to stay aware," the Auror said simply.

"And you couldn't have just bloody said, 'Lupin, watch your back' instead of giving me a bloody heart attack?" He looked down at the red stripe that was forming on his bicep from Moody's last spell.

"Would it have had the same effect?" asked Moody. "No, it wouldn't have and you," he pointed at Remus, "know it."

"My arm's going to be numb for an hour!"

"Better than losing that arm to a Sectumsempra." Moody suddenly opened a drawer and pulled out a small bottle. "Here." He held it out to Remus. "It'll help fade the mark and shorten the time your arm is numb."

"Don't expect me to thank you for it," the younger man muttered as he awkwardly manoeuvred the bottle with nerveless fingers, pouring out some of the potion into his other hand. He started to slather it on the red mark.

Moody suddenly grabbed his wand and pointed it at Remus' chest. "What would you do now, boy?"

Remus' eyes widened in disbelief, then glanced down at one hand -- already numb -- holding the small bottle, then to the other hand, which had blue liquid slathered all over the palm. He looked back up at Moody with a 'Are you serious?' expression -- and then moved.

Moody had set the younger wizard up, yes, and was usually prepared for almost anything, but Remus surprised him. He threw the bottle straight at Moody's face, then as the Auror recoiled, instinctively raising his hand to ward off the projectile, the werewolf dove for Moody's legs. The younger man's thin but muscular arm wrapped around the Auror's ankles and pulled. Down Moody went, heavily, but he tried to twist so he'd land on Remus. The man's elbow collided with Remus' nose, and the younger wizard cursed at the explosion of pain and the ominous crunching sound.

Moody tried to turn, but Remus grabbed him around the waist and wrestled him to the ground. The Auror had the advantage of weight and experience with dirty tricks, but Remus had youth and werewolf strength on his side. Within a minute, Moody was flat on his back on his kitchen floor, arms pinned to his sides, and his wand somewhere beneath him, the younger man straddling him. Blood was running from Remus' nose, soaking his T-shirt, and his eyes were still watering from the smashing of cartilage.

"I'm impressed," panted the Auror.

"Bloody well should be," Remus replied with a pleased smile. He had actually impressed Moody, who rarely complimented anyone! He coughed as blood tickled his throat and felt Moody tense as if ready to move again. He pushed the other wizard's shoulders down with a little more force than he intended and saw something flicker behind Moody's real eye. He turned his head so he couldn't see the fear; he always saw it sooner or later. "I'm sorry," he whispered, scrambling to his feet.

"Are you mad, boy?" asked Moody harshly. "What are you sorry for? You can't afford to be sorry! Now give me a hand up."

Remus hesitated.

"What is wrong with you, Lupin? I broke your nose, not your head. Besides, I'm lying on broken glass here."

The werewolf swiped his potion-slicked hand against his jeans and helped the Auror to his feet.

"I thought you'd just tell me what you'd do, or at the worst try to get my wand away from me," Moody told him. "I didn't think you were going to attack me that time. Now hold still so I can fix that nose." He snatched his wand from where it had fallen.

"Think I'm going to let you point that thing at me?"

"Yes. Episkey." Moody added a charm to siphon the blood off of Remus' face, but regarded the T-shirt with doubt. "I think your shirt has seen better days."

Remus looked down, gingerly touching his nose to make sure it was back to normal. "I've gotten pretty good at Scourgify-ing things..." He tried it two or three times, but the best he could do was to dull the blood to a very drab tan. "Oh well. I'll Apparate over to the Alatzas' and change out of this. I'll meet you at the Ministry in about ten minutes."

Moody glanced up at a clock on the wall. "Better make it five. We've only got thirty-five minutes as it is, and God only knows how much grief they'll give us if they see you. So, in five minutes, meet me by the fountain in the Atrium. And don't be late."

"No sir." Remus grinned and Disapparated.

*******

9:31 a.m.

Six minutes later, Remus emerged from the lift at the Visitor's Entrance to the Ministry. Almost immediately, he saw Dumbledore and Moody in front of the fountain. The two men were talking quite seriously about something; Dumbledore was stroking his beard in slow, steady strokes.

"-- it's a good idea," the Headmaster was saying. "But I wouldn't tell him -- Ah, Remus! It's good to see you again!" He shook Remus' hand heartily. "I hear you're going to be travelling with me to Athens."

"I suppose I should thank the two of you for arranging this," Remus said in a low voice.

"Arranging what?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I have a pressing engagement that's been planned for, oh...hours."

"I'm going to let Basil know we're here," Moody said, preventing Remus from saying anything else about the whole Portkey -- thing. "He's the one in charge of this." He set off, leaving the other two alone at the fountain.

Remus asked about Hagrid and Hogwarts, smiling at Dumbledore's answers. He wasn't prepared for the Headmaster's sudden change in topic a few minutes later.

"Alastor said the two of you were duelling this morning."

Remus gave him a cautious nod. "If that's what you want to call it."

"He said you're still as quick as he remembered from four years ago."

"Not quick enough to dodge his Stunner."

"Not many people are," Albus observed.

Moody returned to them at that moment. "We're set. Basil's expecting us up on the roof. Lupin, I've already put the fear of Merlin and all the gods and of me into the desk jockey sitting there, so don't worry."

Indeed, the security wizard hardly looked up as he read off the details of Remus' wand. But trouble came when he started to put Remus' wand in the special box they had for the wands of visitors who weren't allowed to carry them in the Ministry building.

"The boy has to have his wand," Moody growled. "He's taking a Portkey to Athens!"

"My instructions are that no werewolf is to carry a wand inside this building. So, he's not getting it!"

This went back and forth for a minute until Dumbledore cleared his throat. "What if Mr. Moody carried the wand for him until it was time for the Portkey to engage?"

"I don't know," the man said doubtfully. "I mean, he's obviously sympathetic to the werew-- um.... He might just hand it over as soon as you get in the lift."

Moody's magical eye rolled in disgust. "Fine, I promise not to give it to him until he's got his finger on the Portkey, alright?"

The other wizard hesitated.

"Damn it, man!" Moody shouted. "They have to catch the Portkey in less than ten minutes! Do you really want to be the cause of Albus Dumbledore missing his Portkey?"

That decided the man, and he handed Remus' wand to the Auror without another word.

Moody mumbled curses and imprecations until they entered a lift to take them to the roof. A witch started to enter the lift with them, but Moody held his arm out, stopping her. "Sorry," he said, with a jerk of his head to Remus. "Have to take a werewolf up."

Her eyes focused on the young man between the Auror and Headmaster. With a squeak, she backed up as quickly as she could. Remus heard Moody chuckle under his breath as the lift door slid closed.

"That was fun."

Both werewolf and Headmaster turned their heads to stare at the Auror. Moody shrugged. "Well, it was."

"Alastor, you have something you wanted to tell Remus?" Dumbledore said gently.

Moody suddenly looked nervous, and Remus would never have thought that possible. This can't be good. He half-turned to look at the older man, who cleared his throat and said gruffly, "I told you last night that you'd make one hell of an Auror, and I meant it. There aren't too many people who would have missed getting hit by that Petrificus I threw at you this morning. But I did also mean what I said to you this morning: you have to stay aware of what's going on around you. I don't know why Carmichael picked you out yesterday. Maybe they honestly were going to come down on you for that damned Article three, I don't know. But, the fact is, you're going to be vulnerable when you come home for the next full moon. If I were you, I'd try to find somewhere in Greece for it. If not, make sure Alatza is there first thing in the morning. You're at your weakest then, and they know that."

Remus swallowed hard, feeling his breakfast stirring uneasily in his stomach. Moody waited to see if he was going to say anything. When he didn't, the older wizard continued. "When you get back from Greece, I wonder if you'd like to stop over at my place at least once or twice a week. I think --" he stopped and glanced at Dumbledore, "-- we think it'd be a good idea if you tried to learn some more defensive spells --"

Remus was confused. "But I --"

"-- and learn to do them without your wand," Moody finished, speaking loudly over the other man's attempted interruption.

Remus blinked. "You hate teaching how to do wandless magic. I remember you saying that one time."

"Well, typically that's true. Some of the trainees are so thick I can barely get them to remember not to put their wands in their back pockets. But you're quick and you're bright. It might not be too bad."

"It wouldn't be a bad thing for either one of you," Dumbledore commented. "So what do you think, Remus? Can you spare a night or two each week?"

The lift door slid open. Remus hadn't even been aware of the voice counting off the floors or that the thing had stopped. As he looked from one man to the other, they could see he was a bit stunned by their proposition, but his eyes were shining with excitement as he said, "I think it's bloody brilliant!"

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