Disclaimer: okay so none of the characters belong to me, or the overall
plot, but hey, I can dream, right? And now you know what to get me for a
birthday present ?
A/N: I love Moody! He's really neat, and cool, etc. So anyway, I thought that he deserved a story, since well, you probably noticed that there aren't manyabout him...oh well, here goes- No, wait! If you read When Dreams are Ruined you will immediatly notice that I left out a certain character. The stories are not tied together. All the characters, at least, as of chapter 2 are ones mentioned in the books. (try page 173-174 of OotP, but not until you read the story since it contains Major spoilers).
Like an Angel
1
He saw her sitting in the chair, her hair flowing around her lovely face, fanning out behind her even though there was no wind, like a veela, like an angel.
"Alastor," she gushed, holding out her arms to him, "I love you." He glided across to her open arms, and enveloped her in a passionate embrace. She turned her face to him, and he kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her soft soft lips-
Alastor Moody, auror, age 36, awoke sweating heavily and panting in his own house, 10 miles away. The dreams had been haunting him for the past week. What had he done to disserve this torment? Dorcas Meadowes was a beautiful girl, if a little younger than him, but that didn't matter too much, did it? But lately, he had started to-be suspicious. Not that she had another lover-oh no-his thoughts were far worse. But it's all unfounded suspicion, right? It hasto be, she would never ever do that, never turn to the dark side, never call him her master.
Somewhere in the distance his clock chimed, seven, he'd overslept by two hours. He lunged up from bed, startling the owl who'd been perching on his headboard. He ran to the bathroom, took one look at himself in the mirror, which started to scream and nearly flipped out. Somewhere in the commotion the owl came in with the newspaper in its beak and flew around trying to give it to him. The mirror continued its piercing wailing and screeching its eyes balled up tight.
Moody struggled to his feet, the owl still soaring around, and the frogs in the bathtub croaking at their loudest.
"Quiet!" He shouted, but the chaos only continued, the mirror wailing even louder.
"SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP!!!!!!!!" He roared, spit flying every where.
"You," he said pointing threateningly at the mirror, "You're going away, I will not have some great-uncle's wailing heirloom in MY house another moment." At this the mirror gave terrible sobs and started crying and sobbing, tears streaming down the glass.
"Silencio!" the mirror stopped mid hiccup and glared down at him.
So much for auror training, he thought glumly as he got out his razor and started to shave the stubble off his chin. As far as he was concerned any auror-in-training who did that would never be allowed to step back into the campus. Back in his bedroom the owl was still waiting for him, looking rather touchy, its feathers sticking out at odd angles. Moody seized the paper and dropped two knuts into the little bag on the owl's leg. It took off in a great clash of feathers, obviously scared of staying it that 'mad house' a moment longer.
He glanced at the paper and nearly choked.
Prewett Brothers Killed
The Ministry of Magic's aurors just confirmed the death of Gideon (32) and Fabian (28) Prewett. From evidence gathered it is certain that the two brothers faced five Death Eaters, fighting "like heroes" before being killed. There was only one witness to this event who's identity will remain concealed for their safety. The Prewett brothers, both upstanding members of our society will be awarded the Order of Merlin, first class for their bravery and courage when facing death. The identities of their attackers are currently unknown, although every effort will be made to trace them.
Gideon and Fabian, who would have ever thought the two of them. Moody shook his head, trying to fight back his tears, but they came anyway. He laid his head in his arms and sobbed, howled out his grief and rage, at the loss of two fine men, his good friends, members of the Order. This had been happening for years, all around him his friends and fellows were being killed, had gone missing. The world was in terror, he knew not who to trust, or where to turn. Every person might be a supporter, every friendly face someone who would betray every person they knew, people they had grown up with, their friends, their family.
Only Dumbledore stood like a rock.
Dumbledore.
The only name that could ever shake He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Although Dumbledore seemed solid, and radiated power, each death, each disappearance, each betrayal rocked him. He was becoming weaker. Oh-not noticeably, but weaker just the same. The death of each harmed his soul. But he was also becoming fiercer. Even he, who did not like Dementors or killing was starting to do greater harm. For years Moody had never understood why Dumbledore didn't kill, but now, something had happened, and those old ideas of a righteous battle were starting to falter. How could they ever win without greater loss to the other side?
Moody sighed, wiping his eyes. Reaching into the depths of his pocket he pulled out the crumpled photo of the Order of the Phoenix, taken two days ago. Gideon and Fabian smiled and waved up at him as if nothing was wrong. The Order was dedicated against Voldemort, it was a secret society bound to do away with dark wizards, and led, of course, by Albus Dumbledore. The headquarters were perhaps the most secret part, and perhaps the safest place in all of England, except for Hogwarts. Lily and James Potter had been quite generous in lending their house to the Order's use. More like a fort. Every conceivable spell was on it, no one could ever find it, and Dumbledore had added special protection, or which only he knew. It was safe.
Or so he thought.
A/N: I love Moody! He's really neat, and cool, etc. So anyway, I thought that he deserved a story, since well, you probably noticed that there aren't manyabout him...oh well, here goes- No, wait! If you read When Dreams are Ruined you will immediatly notice that I left out a certain character. The stories are not tied together. All the characters, at least, as of chapter 2 are ones mentioned in the books. (try page 173-174 of OotP, but not until you read the story since it contains Major spoilers).
Like an Angel
1
He saw her sitting in the chair, her hair flowing around her lovely face, fanning out behind her even though there was no wind, like a veela, like an angel.
"Alastor," she gushed, holding out her arms to him, "I love you." He glided across to her open arms, and enveloped her in a passionate embrace. She turned her face to him, and he kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her soft soft lips-
Alastor Moody, auror, age 36, awoke sweating heavily and panting in his own house, 10 miles away. The dreams had been haunting him for the past week. What had he done to disserve this torment? Dorcas Meadowes was a beautiful girl, if a little younger than him, but that didn't matter too much, did it? But lately, he had started to-be suspicious. Not that she had another lover-oh no-his thoughts were far worse. But it's all unfounded suspicion, right? It hasto be, she would never ever do that, never turn to the dark side, never call him her master.
Somewhere in the distance his clock chimed, seven, he'd overslept by two hours. He lunged up from bed, startling the owl who'd been perching on his headboard. He ran to the bathroom, took one look at himself in the mirror, which started to scream and nearly flipped out. Somewhere in the commotion the owl came in with the newspaper in its beak and flew around trying to give it to him. The mirror continued its piercing wailing and screeching its eyes balled up tight.
Moody struggled to his feet, the owl still soaring around, and the frogs in the bathtub croaking at their loudest.
"Quiet!" He shouted, but the chaos only continued, the mirror wailing even louder.
"SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP!!!!!!!!" He roared, spit flying every where.
"You," he said pointing threateningly at the mirror, "You're going away, I will not have some great-uncle's wailing heirloom in MY house another moment." At this the mirror gave terrible sobs and started crying and sobbing, tears streaming down the glass.
"Silencio!" the mirror stopped mid hiccup and glared down at him.
So much for auror training, he thought glumly as he got out his razor and started to shave the stubble off his chin. As far as he was concerned any auror-in-training who did that would never be allowed to step back into the campus. Back in his bedroom the owl was still waiting for him, looking rather touchy, its feathers sticking out at odd angles. Moody seized the paper and dropped two knuts into the little bag on the owl's leg. It took off in a great clash of feathers, obviously scared of staying it that 'mad house' a moment longer.
He glanced at the paper and nearly choked.
Prewett Brothers Killed
The Ministry of Magic's aurors just confirmed the death of Gideon (32) and Fabian (28) Prewett. From evidence gathered it is certain that the two brothers faced five Death Eaters, fighting "like heroes" before being killed. There was only one witness to this event who's identity will remain concealed for their safety. The Prewett brothers, both upstanding members of our society will be awarded the Order of Merlin, first class for their bravery and courage when facing death. The identities of their attackers are currently unknown, although every effort will be made to trace them.
Gideon and Fabian, who would have ever thought the two of them. Moody shook his head, trying to fight back his tears, but they came anyway. He laid his head in his arms and sobbed, howled out his grief and rage, at the loss of two fine men, his good friends, members of the Order. This had been happening for years, all around him his friends and fellows were being killed, had gone missing. The world was in terror, he knew not who to trust, or where to turn. Every person might be a supporter, every friendly face someone who would betray every person they knew, people they had grown up with, their friends, their family.
Only Dumbledore stood like a rock.
Dumbledore.
The only name that could ever shake He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Although Dumbledore seemed solid, and radiated power, each death, each disappearance, each betrayal rocked him. He was becoming weaker. Oh-not noticeably, but weaker just the same. The death of each harmed his soul. But he was also becoming fiercer. Even he, who did not like Dementors or killing was starting to do greater harm. For years Moody had never understood why Dumbledore didn't kill, but now, something had happened, and those old ideas of a righteous battle were starting to falter. How could they ever win without greater loss to the other side?
Moody sighed, wiping his eyes. Reaching into the depths of his pocket he pulled out the crumpled photo of the Order of the Phoenix, taken two days ago. Gideon and Fabian smiled and waved up at him as if nothing was wrong. The Order was dedicated against Voldemort, it was a secret society bound to do away with dark wizards, and led, of course, by Albus Dumbledore. The headquarters were perhaps the most secret part, and perhaps the safest place in all of England, except for Hogwarts. Lily and James Potter had been quite generous in lending their house to the Order's use. More like a fort. Every conceivable spell was on it, no one could ever find it, and Dumbledore had added special protection, or which only he knew. It was safe.
Or so he thought.