There was a house at the end of Bernard Drive. Not a mansion with dozens of ravishing rooms with marble floors and crystal chandeliers. Not a shack with dirt floors and a leaky roof. It was a simple house with two stories, four bedrooms, a study, a small kitchen, and an even smaller living room.
Three of the four bedrooms, much like the kitchen and halls, had whitewashed walls and very little decorations of any kind in them. They were empty altogether.
The fourth bedroom, which also had few decorations: a picture of a redheaded woman with beautiful green eyes sitting on the nightstand being an example, walls were such a faded blue that one might think it was white at first glance. In it was an uncomfortable queen sized bed, a single dresser, a mirror(angled to see every corner of the room when it's viewer was lying down), and a toddler crib(which, in its self seem of of place).
Across the hall from the bedroom was a small study that only looked smaller with the amount of books that covered its shelves. It did not have a color because it's walls were all shelves and the floor, when it was visible, was covered in a dark cherry colored wood and pillars of books.
The kitchen was well stocked on both food and kitchen utensils(mainly knives). It was rarely used and therefore very clean.
The last room was the living room, which was mainly a giant fireplace, two chairs, and love seat. Every wall in the room, minus the wall with the fireplace, were dark oak wood. The last wall was made of stone, like the fireplace. Above the fireplace was a picture of several men and women of many ages and backgrounds. Other then the photo, the room was bare of decoration.
So the house at the end of Bernard Drive was simple. Very simple- except not everyone could see it. The reason, however, was simple- the owner was a wizard and a paranoid one at that. It should come as no surprise then when his first visitor in two years arrived he was ready for war. He knew who his visitor was suppose to be but he knew better then to assume so he was ready for war...just incase.
He answered his door only after asking a great deal of questions.
"What house was I sorted into?"
His visitor, an old man with a ridiculously long white beard and twinkling eyes that shined over his glasses, smiled kindly at him. With a tender and very old man like voice, he replied, "Can't say, you said you'd cast Obliviate on me if I told anyone, including you, Alastor."
The owner of the house grumbled, something about not getting to use a new trap set up under the welcome mat, and opened the door.
"Albus," was all he said.
The old man smiled, "May I come in? It's quite nippy out tonight and I would much rather discuss what you called me here for indoors."
The owner, Alastor, motioned the old man called Albus inside. He led his guest into the living room and told him to wait.
"I'll be back," Alastor mumbled before disappearing down the hall.
Albus smiled before turning his focus to the picture above the fireplace. He smiled again, only faintly this time. He knew everyone in the photo. Aberforth, Dorcas, Sirius, James, Peter, Lily...
Albus had been so absorbed in his memories he had no idea anyone else had entered the room, that is, until he had heard them screaming.
"Constance Vigiwalance!" escaped the lips of a very frail, blue hair toddler as they latched onto Albus's arm. Surprised, and very alarmed, Albus flung his arm and it's new attachment wildly, filling the air with the now blonde hair girl's squeals. He barely had enough time to cast a shield spell when a wave of magic explodes from the girl.
Albus stumbled, going several feet back in the processes, and locked his eyes on the giggling, golden hair toddler standing in front of him.
"Alastor!"
Albus was replied with a chuckle, and not a pretty one at that.
"I see you've met Alice," said Alastor. He immediately picked up the girl who seemed unfazed by his appearance. That, along with the surprise attack Albus had just been a victim of, was enough to bewilder the old man.
Alastor had been a looker but that had been before he had become an Aruror, the Wizard form of FBI agents. His strawberry blonde hair had been lighter then and his chocolate color eyes- well- he still had both of them then. Now he wasn't even decent like he had be before... His whole body was covered in scars, more noticeably his face in which he had lost the tip of his nose and his left eye had been replaced by a magical blue one, but he had also lost his leg, which was replaced by a magical metal one that made it light enough to use.
Of course, the surprise attack and the child's react to Alastor had bewildered Albus but the child's name had down right stumped him.
"Alice, as in, Lily's daughter?"
There was a long silence in which the girl's hair returned to its natural color, or what was assumed to be her natural hair color, of light brown. She, Alice that is, was a Metamorphmagus, someone who could change their appearance at will, though the girl's eyes remained a very familiar and beautiful green. Metamorphmagus were rare, extremely rare, but they were notorious with being born to a Wizard couple with a Pureblood and a Muggleborn. Lily had been a Muggleborn but... Albus couldn't wait any longer. He used his wand to brush the hair away from Alice's forehead, revealing a very recognizable lightning bolt scar.
"She's not just Lily's daughter you know," grumbled Alastor, tightening his grip on the girl.
"No, I know this, but," started Albus but stopped. Everything made since to the old man almost instantly. The note. Alastor wanting to meet him alone. It made perfect sense. "I wish I had known, Alastor. I'm... I'm sorry."
There was an awkward silence between the two men as Alice squirmed in her father's arms playfully.
"She's not leaving, Albus," said Alastor finally. "She needs... She needs..."
"Papa, I'm tired."
Albus was quite amused by this. He had put two and two together but hearing the girl call him papa- it was comical, not to mention adorable.
"I think right now," Albus said finally, "all she needs is for you to tuck her in. I understand your decision, but please, don't make her paranoid. She still needs a childhood."
Alastor snorted, "Paranoia is a way to build character, Albus, but fear not, I'm only teaching her-"
"Constant Vigiwalance!"
The owner of the house disappeared up the stairs crackling in a very scary manner while his visitor waited once more in the living room. It wasn't long before he returned and this time Albus was very aware of someone entering the room.
"So," grumbled Alastor. All signs that he was a loving father was gone. In front of Albus stood the old Alastor- Madeye Moody. "I suppose I should start with the letter."
"I would prefer," said Albus, "if you began with Lily, how all of this came to be and such."
"Right," growled Alastor. "There might be a better place to start. I suppose you didn't know then?"
"Not even remotely."
Alastor snorted, "She was sure you did. Kept saying 'he knows everything' but I knew you were human, barely, but human."
Albus smiled and Alastor smirked again.
"Lily, as I'm sure you remember, wasn't very good at realizing some people don't want friends, I being one of those people," Alastor started again. "To put it short, the girl caught me off guard."
Now it was Albus's turn to smirk, "You, Alastor? She caught you... Interesting."
"Oh sod off," growled Alastor but his words did nothing. Albus's smirk only turned into a grin. "Anyway, when Alice was born we almost came out about our relationship but we knew we couldn't. With the war, my job making my love ones targets, we thought it was best for her, for Alice." Alastor paused for a second. His face growing soft only to tighten up with anger. "And then that blasted prophecy mumbo jumbo started and Lily had to take Alice into hiding."
The face of Alastor Moody was never pleasant, but the face of an furious Alastor Moody was a terrifying thing.
"I told her to make one of her friends her keeper, thought it be safer and wouldn't connect her to me if it ever broke. If I had known that Black was a traitor I... I found the house first. Something told me something was wrong. When I got there Lily was..."
Albus decided then there was only one thing more frightening then a furious Alastor Moody and it was an Alastor Moody on the verge of breaking down. Thankfully, that was a sight Albus was not going to see for Alastor immediately recomposed himself before continuing.
"I took Alice and left the note saying her father had collected her. There was no bloody way I was letting her live with those horrible Muggle relatives so I took her. It was my right as her father anyways. Funny, I hadn't seen her since before Rosier but she knew it was me. Kept saying papa. Lily and I hadn't taught her the word but she only said it to me. Surprised the bloomin' pants off Lupin but he didn't figure it out. She had called me Madeye first, in fact it was her first word, followed by fuck off. Blame Lily for that one. She said it once but that was enough for Alice to pick up on it..."
When Alastor realized he was ranting, Albus already had a full fledge grin covering his face.
"Bloody hell, Albus," growled Alastor, "don't give me that look."
"Sorry my old friend," chuckled Albus. "I suppose you had another reason for calling me here then?"
Alastor nodded before standing up. "I hear the Ministry is thinking about announcing Alice as dead."
"Planning it, actually."
"Don't let them," said Alastor. "It's time people know she's with her father. And don't worry, I'm retired now. She'll be with me twenty-four-seven nothing-"
"I'm not worried, Alastor," cut in Albus. "I'm glad." The old man patted his friend on the back, a risky move seeing how paranoid the man was, and smiled. "Alice will officially be yours by this time tomorrow, I promise."
Alastor, did it again. He smiled but just like Alice, Albus found nothing scary about it.
"Thank you, Albus."
"Yes, well Alice Lily Moody does have a nice ring to it," teased Albus while heading towards the door. "Alice Moody, the Girl Who Lived. A shame the Prophet is going to sell so well with that story. Perhaps you could let Xenophilius have a interview?"
"Albus," growled Alastor. "Don't push it."
"Of course," laughed Albus, "Merlin knows that would end badly."
Alastor just narrowed his eyes.
"Goodbye, Albus."
"Until we meet again, Alastor," said Albus with a bow. He disappeared down the long sidewalk leading to the rode where he could apparate away. Alastor watch the whole time, waiting.
When the crazy old wizard was gone, Alastor climbed the stairs, wand in hand out of habit- a very good habit. He was always ready for an attack, even in his own heavily warded house. He opened his bedroom door, revealing a very precious three year old submerged in his bedcovers as if she was in a cocoon. She seemed to think it was funny, climbing into his bed and stealing all of the blankets, even though she was too small to steal them all.
Alastor held back his snort so he wouldn't wake her. Tiptoeing, well trying to anyway, he slipped into the side of the bed closest to the door, something he would never do if it wasn't for the fact it kept Alice safe. He tried not to wake her as he carefully took back enough blanket to cover himself.
"Papa?" mumbled the white hair girl.
"Yes, Alice?" whispered Alastor.
"I like our guest, he was fun... Can we keep him?"
Alastor chuckled softly, "You can't keep people, Allie."
"I know," mumbled the semiconscious toddler. "Papa?"
"Yes, Allie?" Alastor yawned.
"I love you."
Alastor smiled, "I love you too, kiddo. Now quit stealing the blanket when you think I'm not looking."
Alice giggle before growing quiet and falling asleep. Alastor was still smiling when he fell asleep- one hand on his wand, the other wrapped protectively around his daughter.