Nobody's Home

Nobody's Home

By

Mae Silverpaws

Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody suddenly appeared in the back courtyard of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Even from the outside, the house had an eerie quiet to it. Mad Eye glanced around the yard as he stomped toward the kitchen backdoor; making sure no Muggles had spotted him.

Mumbling under his breath, he said, "If people just keep appearing in the front of the property, even that half blind old biddy that lives across the lane is going to start noticing the activities over here. Just because the house has a front door doesn't mean you have to use it every time. These Muggles are not as dumb as most wizards seem to think they are. We must be ever vigilant."

Mad Eye reached into the pocket of his overcoat and pulled out a ring of keys. As he sorted through them to find the proper key to use (so not to set off the wizarding alarm, set up and perfected by the Weasley twins) Mad Eye's magical eye roamed all over the interior and exterior of the house. Satisfied that no one else was there; Moody placed the key in the lock and stepped into the room.

The kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place, normally the bustling and chaotic headquarters for The Order of the Phoenix, was quiet, almost too quiet. Mad Eye again glanced around the room with his magical eye. Stomping over to the kitchen table and with a groan sat in his chair, the one in the corner next to the fireplace facing the doorways. The one, Mad Eye smiled, that Molly had so considerately added a nice comfortable cushion to. She had said, "To rest your weary bones on, Alastor." Mad Eye smiled to himself as he thought, "That Molly... she is a good girl."

The house was quiet. Granted, it had only been about two weeks since the accidental death of the property's owner, Sirius Black. With no known Death Eater activities, most of the Order was taking a well-deserved break or quietly watching number four, Privet Drive, where young Harry Potter was spending the required month or so with his Muggle relatives.

Nonetheless, the house was quiet. Moody had not even seen Kreacher while initially inspecting the building. No one was there but him.

Mad Eye turned to address the corner of the room next to the outside door. "I know you are there," he said in a deep gravely voice. "So come out and address me like a man instead of hiding in the corners and whispering."

Dead silence followed Mad Eye's comment. Nothing happened. No one came out of the apparently empty corner.

"Again I say; I know you are there. I have sensed you and I have somehow heard you describing my actions here tonight. Come forward or I will make it impossible for you not to." Mad Eye peered dangerously into the corner, his magical eye twirling madly.

"Yes. I know I am peering into the corner and with my face like this you can do nothing but peer dangerously. My eye always twirls when I am trying to detect something. Why are you describing my actions?" As quick as a whip Mad Eye drew his wand and shouted " Apperious!"

Suddenly a female in her late thirties with shoulder-length dark red hair appeared, standing in the corner.

"What the..." she cried in a very American accented voice. "What in the blazes am I doing here?"

"That, young lady, is what I have been trying to figure out since I spotted you a good five minutes or so ago. Hmmm... red hair... you would not happen to be a Weasley, would you?"

"No sir," she said. "My name is Mae Silverpaws. I'm not related to the Weasleys at all.

As, a matter of fact, I was just a second ago sitting in my kitchen in The States writing a story and now I am here. How..." She looked at Mad Eye and sat down heavily across the table from him.

"Well, as you kept on saying, I was watching with my magical eye and kept getting a quick glimpse of something in that corner. That is very unusual. I can normally see things very clearly through this apparatus. So I kept on going back to check on what ended up being you.

You said you were writing a story, now, were you, in The States?"

"Yes sir," said Mae, looking Mad Eye straight in the eyes. "Are you really Mad Eye--I mean, Alastor Moody, sir? Is this really London, England? You don't seem as intimidating as I have read." Mae suddenly turned bright red and put her face into her hands. "I'm sorry sir. That was very rude."

"Ah, girly, don't worry," said Mad Eye with a crooked grin that did make him seem a bit more intimidating except for the twinkle in his normal eye. "It's a good thing to keep up one's reputation you know. Therefore, you were writing and I detected you and then suddenly you were here. What exactly were you writing about?"

"Ummm, you sir," she said, blushing again. "I was trying to write about how you would react to the death of Sirius Black."

Moody suddenly leaned forward and said in a low clear voice. "How do you know about Sirius Black?"

"From a story, sir. Where I'm from, you and the Weasleys and Professor Lupin and Harry and Hermione and everyone else are from a great saga, I guess you could call it. It is the adventures of Harry Potter while he's at Hogwarts. You see, it takes a very long time to write one of the real books so other people write little short stories or even whole novels about you folks until we have the real books to read."

Moody stared so closely at Mae she began to squirm. "Well, you aren't lying girl," he said and hoisted himself up from the table, limping toward the far side of the fireplace. Tapping the fourth stone away from the top of the mantel and then kicking the sixth one from the base a small compartment opened along side of the fireplace. "Don't you be telling Molly that Dung, Arthur and I have a little stash here. If'n she knew she would have our heads." He removed two mugs from the shelves and, after laying them down on the table asked, "Would you like some?"

"Oh what the heck, sure," said Mae, watching him pour the amber liquid into the mugs. "What is it?"

"Oh, just a little firewhiskey but I have some ale in there somewhere if you would rather."

"Umm, no, this will be fine," she said, glancing at the healthy serving.

"So you were going to write a story about me and Sirius, were you? And what was it going to be like?"

"I really hadn't gotten that far yet. I wasn't sure if it would just be you in Grimmauld Place's kitchen alone toasting him and then remembering others that had fallen to the cause. On the other hand, if maybe Kreacher would come and actually tell you some stories about before the Gryffindor House corrupted Sirius. I was kinda leaning toward the one where you were alone, though. No matter what, I don't think Kreacher is the talkative type. What were you doing here anyway?"

"Well, to be honest with you I was coming over here to say goodbye to Sirius in private. Maybe that's why I could sense you were there."

"That's probably exactly it," agreed Mae, sipping her drink.

"So tell me about The States," said Mad Eye, settling back into his chair.

Mae and Mad Eye spent a few hours happily chatting with each other. Mad Eye told her stories he had never told anyone else, things that had happened to him in the line of duty. Mae told him about the books: people's ideas on how they were going to eventually end, and of course, the plot twists along the way.

The wall mantel clock struck ten and Mae suddenly looked up.

"Oh, no, has it really been that long? I have to get home! I have two boys in their early teens. Believe me, I have left them alone much longer then I should have. It's been a pleasure chatting with you Mad Eye--I mean, Mr. Moody," she said, extending her hand. "Is there really a wizarding world in The States too?"

Why don't you write about it and find out there, young lady? Two boys, did you say... and in their early teens? Well then, I better put you back only a few moments after you left. Boys can be a handful as I am sure you well know." Pointing his wand at her, he mumbled "Disapperious."

Mad Eye settled back into his chair. The house was again empty except for him and an odd feeling of being watched somehow. Raising his mug to the empty corner, Mad Eye nodded and then drained the remainder of the liquid in one swallow.