This is the only text where I can pinpoint when I wrote it: The first Advent Sunday 2004, which means before the release of HBP even. And it's one of the more recent HP-fics I wrote.

This takes place after Voldemort's downfall and a rather short time after Lestrange was caught (It cannot be too long because in the Pensieve Moody still has his normal eye, like here – at least in the book). I wrote this because I have been wondering about all the stuff I'm dealing with in here for ages. So if you ever wondered where he got his eye from and what is in his hipflask, go read this (The latter became more of point of interest because of the movie, I admit it. When I read GoF I had the idea Moody might be a boozer, although JK doesn't suggest this that much. I had already forgotten that.). I choose to refer to people by their first names, the only exception is Dumbledore, just because I think it would be inappropriate for me to call him Albus. Yes, I know that's ridiculous.

Somehow my various OCs from earlier HP-Texts (funny, I wrote all of them before DH, most of them before HBP, so in a way it's all early) found their way into this: Urania Gallows from Beasts of Prey, Sarah and Catherine Highpit (who used to have a different name once) from the long thing without a title that I will one day post, I guess. Also the Teneo/Solvo and the Solutio Salutis I stole from myself, more or less.

Since this is a bit longish, I split it into two chapters. As a matter of fact, I had originally ended it at the end of the first part.

Alastor woke with a start. Someone had knocked the door downstairs, fiercely. He glanced out of the window. It was dark, the full moon shining into his bedroom. Alastor snatched his wand and ran downstairs without making a sound. Only when he stood right beside the door he spoke. 'Who is it?'

'Just me,' came the answer. Alastor recognized the voice as his colleague Urania Gallows's. With a frown he opened the door, but he pointed his wand at the witch.

'And what the hell would you be doing here at this ungodly time?'

'Look,' said Urania simply, handing him a piece of parchment.

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Sorry, can't tell who I am, would get me in greater trouble than my life's worth. Go to the burnt down Coldingham Monastery as fast as you can.

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'We tried to find out who it is, but we couldn't,' said Urania. 'Might be worth the risk, though. Dumbledore will follow a little later, he has to finish something before, he said.' Alastor nodded. He tapped the letter with his forefinger.

'I know that one. He's an idiot, but he's on our side.'

'Who is he?' Alastor snorted.

'Sorry, but if I tell you that, you'll go and arrest him for sending an anonymous letter. Can't have that.' The days in which he'd had to account for his reasons to Urania Gallows were long over. His training had ended longer ago than he wished to be reminded of. Apart from that, he was easily the best Auror in the office, and he was aware of that. 'Give me a minute. This is not the attire I use for searching suspicious places.'

They Apparated near the Monastery. To their amazement, there was a wooden house right beside it. 'That's not supposed to be here, is it?' asked Alastor softly, and Urania shook her head.

'No, it wasn't there last week.' Alastor looked at her.

'I could ask you why you know that so exactly, but I don't think I want to know.' Urania's nose travelled up into the air by a few inches.

'I was keeping an eye on this place. We have heard that there may be strange activities nearby.' Alastor stopped.

'Who is we and why do I not know?'

'We are Clery and I and we haven't told you because we didn't find anything that spoke for the rumours.'

'You did realize that you are instructed that every rumour goes straight to me while Simon is in Alaska, didn't you?' he retorted. 'That wasn't meant as a joke.' Urania glared at him.

'Well, we wanted to tell you about it, and I was going to suggest that your youngsters go here for training.'

'You reckon I bring a novice and a trainee to a place that might be infested with curses of the worst kind?' Alastor shook his head. 'They're good and too young to die.'

'They weren't forced into the office.' Alastor felt his patience waning.

'They would be our youngest losses, and I am not going to be the one who's responsible for that. How far do you go in your anger that I took them instead of you?'

'Some people say you are unorthodox in their training.'

'I know. Because I took Sarah to a raid. Funny, where there's real danger people wonder why I don't bring them, and then they ask me if I'm mad for taking her there.' He gestured at the building. 'You know what, I am not going to discuss that with you. This here is more important.'

'Some people say that your training goes … deeper than Auror training,' said Urania with a wicked grin. Only a second later she realised that she had gone too far. Alastor grabbed her by the upper arm and gave her a look that could pierce solid metal.

'Now you've crossed the line. I'll tell you what I think: You're the one who says that, you and no one else. I advise you to be careful with your decision to spread your lies: There are a lot of people who know me well enough to tell you're lying, and if I get wind you're telling dirty stories about me, I'll have you thrown out of the office. It's not a good idea to mess with me. There's nothing dark enough about me that is true, and what you may invent is too far-fetched even for the Prophet. So keep your mouth shut and don't make me angry.'

'You're always angry.'

'Only in your company,' growled Alastor. 'Never mind that now, let's concentrate on that thing. I figure it hasn't been built by Muggles since it has appeared within a week. Agreed?' She nodded, scowling. They approached carefully, and Alastor wished he were able to see through walls.

'Is it true you are involved with a secret society?' asked Urania.

'Do you think I would tell you if I were?' retorted Alastor.

'They say you and that McGonagall are,' she continued. 'And that Dumbledore is their leader.'

'Sounds great.' He wondered whether she really could be so convinced of herself that she figured he'd tell her, even more after what she had said before. Certainly, he was in the Order of the Phoenix, but he was not going to talk about that. They were on the same side, but this was, as she had said, a secret society, and Urania Gallows had never been one of the few people he trusted. For good reasons, as he had just found out.

'Look!' Urania shouted suddenly. He started slightly, cursing his foolishness. It only happened once every twenty years that he dropped his guard, but each time he could curse himself for it. At least it wasn't that alarming an event he had missed: The lights had gone on in the upper floor of the house, that was all.

'Let's go,' he said darkly. Together they set off towards the building. Urania was making a lot of noise in his opinion. He managed to get them into the house in relative silence, and they headed upstairs after searching the ground floor.

'There you are,' said a voice behind them. Both spun around, facing a young witch whose face was hidden behind a mask.

'Stupefy!' yelled Urania, but the witch dodged the ray of light.

'Avada Kedavra!' she shouted at Urania, who fell to the ground when a green jet of light hit her.

'Teneo!' shouted Alastor, and the witch went to her knees. She rose again, letting out a loud scream. She was wise enough not to try to run, for she would have fallen over. A number of witches and wizards were coming down the stairs now.

'Crucio,' said one of them. Alastor felt himself falling down the stairs, unable to control his movements. Only when he started to think he would finally slip into a pleasant faint out of which he might never awake, the pain stopped. He groaned. 'Teneo, my friend,' sneered the wizard, stomping hard on his right hand. He pointed his wand at the witch and muttered, 'Solvo.' A foot hit Alastor hard on the temple and the lights went out.

Only a moment later he awoke, and taking his wand into his left hand he crawled back to where Urania had fallen. The others had Disapparated, but not without setting fire to the house. Urania Gallows was unmistakably dead. Alastor swore. She had been difficult, but she had also been good and experienced, and she had taught him a good deal of what he knew now. It was a miracle to Alastor where that witch had come from, they had checked everything. He felt too weak to Apparate, but he had to try. He had to get to Dumbledore, or he was lost. He ignored the furnishings trying to talk to him, knowing that he was imagining it due to the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. He needed help with that quickly. He concentrated with all the power of his mind on the Monastery outside, and made a fast forward movement.

For a moment he thought it had worked. In fact, he had actually Apparated, but the Death Eater's spell held him inside the house. He landed right at the exit. Smoke was filling his nostrils and he heard the roof creaking. This house would not stand much longer. Panic started to rise in his chest, but Alastor fought it down, crawling to the door. He tried to place his hand outside, but he could not move it over the threshold. The panic subsided completely. Alastor leant against the wall, breathing flatly. He could not get out, he would die, and there was nothing he could do about that. He had lost, so what should he panic for? He realized vaguely that everything was becoming shapeless, and that an intense heat filled the house. He closed his eyes, shutting out the confusion of what he was seeing. He felt the fire licking at his robes and his very skin. A horrible noise seemed to be coming from above, but he only perceived it as if it was very far away. Less than a second later he felt a stab of pain in his face that was so violent he lost consciousness.

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When Alastor awoke he thought for a moment that he had only dreamt this, but when he tried to open his eyes and realized that only the right one obeyed him, he knew he hadn't. He closed his eye again. 'Alastor, are you with me?' asked a soft voice. Alastor tried to speak but only succeeded in groaning barely audibly. He wanted to go back into that darkness that had only just spat him out, but a hand shook him roughly into reality. 'You must drink this,' said the voice. It was gentle but also commanding. Alastor knew it well enough to recognize it without seeing the speaker. Someone pulled him into a sitting position and forced a tasteless ice-cold fluid down his throat.

'Solutio Salutis,' Alastor whispered.

'Do you know what happened?' Finally, Alastor tried to look again. His vision was slightly blurred, but he still recognized Albus Dumbledore. He nodded. Speaking was harder work than he felt capable of. However, he decided that he wanted to know how he had survived, so he shook his head. Dumbledore looked worried. 'Alastor, are you aware of what is happening?'

'Don't make me speak, please,' he said. He understood that Dumbledore was worried. He knew how he himself felt about people behaving oddly after being under the Cruciatus Curse so he had named that potion only to show he was still himself. His own voice sounded unfamiliar to him. Every inch of his skin hurt, every single nerve in his body was firing. 'How … here?' That wasn't even similar to what he had intended to say, but Dumbledore understood.

'I came just in time,' he said. 'You were trapped.' Alastor frowned.

'Wasn't,' he said. 'Was … Attached.' He felt the slight panic again. Had the Cruciatus done more damage to him than he thought? Reason told him that if it were so, he would barely be able to think clearly, but it was the only answer he had. 'Why … no talk?' he asked roughly, dreading the answer. His mind was creating proper sentences, but his mouth refused to form them.

'You were given a very strong potion that seems to affect you that way as well,' said Dumbledore. 'This will get better in a few minutes. It was the only thing that kept you alive until now.'

'Who?'

'Severus made it.' Alastor frowned, which proved to be a mistake. It hurt horribly. 'I realised that you were Attached, I had to Solve you. You are at Hogwarts now. You will be better soon.' Alastor felt a warm hand touching his forehead. 'Somnia,' said Dumbledore.

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The next time Alastor woke up, he didn't give in to the illusion that he was safely at home. The pain in the left half of his face was too strong, and his left leg was firing somewhere above his knee. A horrible truth struck him, but he decided to refuse to believe in what he knew already, until someone told him. 'Albus?' he asked tentatively.

'Here, my friend.' Alastor looked up at him.

'What happened to me in that house?' he asked. A wave of relief swept over him. His brain was working properly again. 'Damage report and casualties please.' Dumbledore smiled sadly.

'You've lost a leg and an eye, as I know you realised. The house collapsed with you inside it. Urania Gallows has been killed, I think. She must have been farther inside, luckily you were just beside the door or I would not have been able to do anything for you.' Alastor nodded. The world was spinning around him.

'You should have left me there,' he whispered.

'How could I have?' asked Dumbledore compassionately, and Alastor stared at him.

'Don't force me to live,' he said. 'Let me go if I have to. No, I mean it. Don't give me that potion any more. If I go, I go. I won't drink it, and I plead with you not to force-feed me.' Alastor looked at Dumbledore's pained face and saw his friend nodding slowly. He closed his eyes – no: his eye – again and fell asleep.

Suddenly, only a moment later he thought, he was shocked back into consciousness. 'Albus!' he called, loudly. He was astonished how strong his voice was, although it still didn't sound the way it should. He heard a movement beside his bed and looked. 'Do you think that this life is worth living? For me, I mean.'

'I do think so, but I am aware that you might not,' said Dumbledore. 'We usually agree, but I have learnt that in such matters we often don't.' Alastor realized that he was going to pass out again, but he was determined not to. He stretched out his right hand, and Dumbledore took it. He needed to hold on to something that was real and alive.

'It's the other way round normally,' growled Alastor. 'It's always been me clinging to life as if there's no fate worse than death. I think differently now.'

'I have changed my mind neither on the whole matter nor on your fate in particular,' replied Dumbledore conversationally. 'I still do not think that death would be better for you in your present situation. I would swap with you if I could. However, I will not force you to live if there is nothing you rather want than to die. But before you decide that you don't want to go on, I must remind you that once it is too late you cannot change your mind.'

'What good would you have done then by risking your neck to bring me out?' asked Alastor.

'That you had the choice,' said Dumbledore kindly and Alastor frowned.

'D'you know what I really want?' asked Alastor, and Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at him. 'A mirror.'

'Alastor, you should …'

'Give me a mirror, Albus, please,' repeated Alastor. 'I want to know who I am going to see every damn morning.' Dumbledore vanished from his sight for a moment, and when he returned he held a small hand mirror before Alastor's face. For a few moments he looked at his reflection, then he turned away in revulsion. The eye patch was clearly the most charming thing about his looks. 'Fine,' he said. 'I reckon I won't win next year's beauty contest, so there's no difference to before.' He looked at Dumbledore again. 'It's absolutely mad, but I'm fool enough to want to live.'

'You are not a fool, Alastor,' said Dumbledore, 'and I will not have you speaking like that about my friends. As for my part, I have expected nothing less of you.' Alastor gave a mirthless laugh.

'I did,' he growled.