Author's Note: I always thought Moody deserved someone to love. And then, walking my dog this afternoon, the thought hit me: what made Moody so eager to become an Auror? What made him so devoted to his cause? Read on and find out. Be prepared for grief in a very short story.


Remembering April

Alastor's POV


Alastor Moody remembered April in July.

As he fell to his doom, hurtling through the midnight sky, he remembered.

Alastor remembered waiting anxiously to be Sorted; though his family had been pureblood, he had still been nervous about not being good enough. As he fell, he remembered. He remembered his first proper sight of her, the girl right before him in line. He remembered watching as "Madigan, April" stepped forward. As he plummeted, he remembered.

He remembered the way her cascades of dark blonde hair tumbled down her back. He remembered the way it fell not in ringlets, like most others', but in smooth, straight strands, shining with beautiful brilliance. He remembered her electric blue eyes. And as he descended, Alastor remembered more.

He remembered the first time they had met under the mistletoe at age fourteen. He remembered sharing the sweetest kiss he had ever thought possible. He remembered as he fell.

He remembered her glowing skin as they lay down together. He remembered her laugh, soft as trickling water, as he surprised her on her twenty-first birthday with her favourite pink and white gerberas. As he plunged downwards, Alastor remembered.

He remembered slipping a gold engagement ring onto his littlest finger, knowing that if it fit, it would fit her. He remembered waiting for her at his house. He remembered burning the dinner, so nervous was he. And Alastor remembered as he dropped.

He remembered waiting for her to Floo inside. And he remembered hearing the knock on the door. He remembered opening it and coming face to face with his old friend, Albus Dumbledore.

Alastor remembered as he fell.

He remembered as Albus spoke to him. He remembered the three words he had most dreaded to hear. He remembered: "April is dead."

And as he plummeted, he remembered.

He remembered blue skies at April's funeral in July. He remembered signing up for Auror training the very next day. He remembered hunting down every last one of those Death Eater scum. He remembered not caring if they ripped him apart. He remembered only wanting revenge.

And he remembered more as he plunged ever onwards.

He remembered taking them down, them with hoods and cloaks as black as night. And he remembered whispering the same word into their ears, moments before they became unconscious: April.

Tumbling downwards, Alastor remembered.

He remembered always carrying the ring around, whatever he did, wherever he went. He remembered the feeling of it, heavy in his pocket, reminding him that no matter how many he took down, there were always more people to hunt. More darkness to destroy. More revenge to gain.

And a split second before impact on the cold, hard ground, Alastor remembered something more. And so, with that memory, he reached into his left breast pocket and pulled out a golden engagement band.

And then he was gone.