Disclaimer: I own nothing except the off-canon characters. J.K. owns the rest, which is
good, because she does far more with them than I ever could.
A/N: If you love it or hate it, please leave a review...no flames, because they totally
don't help, but constructive criticism is totally appreciated. If you review, I'll know
people are actually looking at it and add some more on...if not, I'll continue it for my
own benefit off-line :). Thanks for taking the time to read this! It's my first story here,
so I really appreciate it.
* * *
"The greatest travelers have not gone beyond the limits of their own world; they have trodden
the paths of their own souls, of good and evil, of morality and redemption."
---Christ Stopped at Eboli, 1947. Carlo Levi
* * *
Amanda Lupin stared out the window. Desolate. Utterly desolate. And to think, this was
supposed to have been her second honeymoon. Hearing the whistle of the tea kettle, she closed
the book in her hands, took one more glance out into the rain, and walked over to the stove.
Taking the kettle off the burner, she opened the fridge, pulling out a pitcher of milk. As she
added it to her tea, she looked to the calender. A beautiful Santorini sunset shone across the
embrace of two young people.
"Huh." she said to no one in particular. At least that couple seemed to be enjoying themselves.
On the way back to her vigil on her couch, she grabbed a small notebook, bound in tattered leather.
12 April 1967
So much for travelers' paradise. Ever since our arrival on this island, it's been nothing but
rain, rain, rain. Instead of enjoying the momentary glory of the Greek sunset, I spent the
evening shoving towels under the doors because the wind is blowing the water right through the
cracks. I told Thomas that we should have gotten one of those luxury suites facing the interior,
but he felt we'd have more privacy here. At the time, it sounded like a fantastic idea...alone
in a tiny alcove with my husband, able to enjoy each other's company without worrying about someone
noticing anything unusual. He's a brilliant man, but within five minutes of checking in, he
managed to forget and ask the poor desk clerk if the fireplaces were hooked up to the floo network.
I know we muggles are supposed to be fairly oblivious, but honestly, some things stand out and if he
uses one of those memory charms on every person who hears him slip up, the whole island will be
walking around wearing nothing but woolen mittens and galoshes..
Of course, right now I'd give up my stash of mocha truffles to have him around to mess things up
again. He took off over nine hours ago and I still haven't heard anything. The owl barely
made it here in the storm, poor thing. Thomas refused to tell me what it was all about, of
course, but I'm sure it has something to do with all those killings that happened a few days ago.
Shocking, of course, but I assumed the Ministry would be able to handle that sort of thing without
calling in Tom. Honestly, I'm not sure what his work with the Experimental Charms committee has
to do with solving crimes, but apparantly it was important enough that he essentially abandon his
wife on an island that
No, wait. I'm turning into a bitter old lady, aren't I? It's just that...well, frankly, I'm scared.
I don't like having him gone and I don't like all those rumors that we keep hearing...that some dark
wizard is gaining power whose cohorts think muggle-killing is a better sporting event than the World
Cup...it still sounds like some bad science fiction flik. If he knew he was going to be gone this
long, he could have at least taken me with him...it's not like I would have insisted on following
him around, trying to do his job for him.
Okay, maybe I would have. But at least then I could have stopped at home and checked on the kids.
Mrs. Grinnig is such a nice lady and I'm sure she's taking care of them, but I can't remember if
I told her that Melissa needs to practice her piano at least half an hour a day and that Remus
won't fall asleep until you sing to him...
The pen dropped out of Amanda's hand onto the floor with a slight clink, the only sound besides
the soft ticking of the clock and the driving rain on the window. Bringing her knees to her chin,
she sighed, preparing to continue her solitary vigil.
* * *
She was cleaning Juniper's saddle. The smell of leather and soap permeated her hands, her jeans,
and she loved it. She was always happiest in the barn, except that today something was wrong.
Juniper kept doing doughnuts in his stall, making tight circles and spraying up wet hay and the
mud he had tracked inside from the fields. She walked over to him, calling him softly. She
had always been his favorite, ever since Daddy had purchased him. Instead of his usual
nuzzle, however, he snapped at her. Shocked, she withdrew her hand, as he began to kick the
rear of the stall.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
It was persistant, and for some reason it bothered Amanda more than she could explain.
Thump.
Louder.
Thump.
"Stop." Amanda said softly. The horse glanced her way briefly.
Thump.
"Stop." A little more loudly.
Thump.
"Stop." She was beginning to panic now. "Stop. Stop, please....Stop, damn you, STOP IT!!!
With a start, Amanda woke up, gasping for breath. Odd, dreams about home had always been
pleasant ones, but this one was....
Thump.
Her eyes widened for a moment, before she realized that the knocking was real, that someone
must be at the door...maybe it was Thomas!
But no, he would have apparated. She sighed. It was probably just a clerk...maybe they
finally had realized that all the exterior rooms were flooding. She pulled the afghan around
her tightly, walked over to the entrance, and, undoing the latches, opened the door.
She stepped back slightly, eyes wide. The figure stepped inside, tossing back his hood to
reveal a glimpse of the formal green robes of the Ministry.
"Mrs. Lupin?"
She nodded.
The lines on his hard face softened. "I'm Alastor Moody."
Moody...he had worked with Tom on several occasions. "My husband, have you...." She trailed
off at the look in his eyes, instantly knowing the worst.
"I'm sorry."
The last thing she noticed before passing out was that, finally, the rain had stopped.
good, because she does far more with them than I ever could.
A/N: If you love it or hate it, please leave a review...no flames, because they totally
don't help, but constructive criticism is totally appreciated. If you review, I'll know
people are actually looking at it and add some more on...if not, I'll continue it for my
own benefit off-line :). Thanks for taking the time to read this! It's my first story here,
so I really appreciate it.
* * *
"The greatest travelers have not gone beyond the limits of their own world; they have trodden
the paths of their own souls, of good and evil, of morality and redemption."
---Christ Stopped at Eboli, 1947. Carlo Levi
* * *
Amanda Lupin stared out the window. Desolate. Utterly desolate. And to think, this was
supposed to have been her second honeymoon. Hearing the whistle of the tea kettle, she closed
the book in her hands, took one more glance out into the rain, and walked over to the stove.
Taking the kettle off the burner, she opened the fridge, pulling out a pitcher of milk. As she
added it to her tea, she looked to the calender. A beautiful Santorini sunset shone across the
embrace of two young people.
"Huh." she said to no one in particular. At least that couple seemed to be enjoying themselves.
On the way back to her vigil on her couch, she grabbed a small notebook, bound in tattered leather.
12 April 1967
So much for travelers' paradise. Ever since our arrival on this island, it's been nothing but
rain, rain, rain. Instead of enjoying the momentary glory of the Greek sunset, I spent the
evening shoving towels under the doors because the wind is blowing the water right through the
cracks. I told Thomas that we should have gotten one of those luxury suites facing the interior,
but he felt we'd have more privacy here. At the time, it sounded like a fantastic idea...alone
in a tiny alcove with my husband, able to enjoy each other's company without worrying about someone
noticing anything unusual. He's a brilliant man, but within five minutes of checking in, he
managed to forget and ask the poor desk clerk if the fireplaces were hooked up to the floo network.
I know we muggles are supposed to be fairly oblivious, but honestly, some things stand out and if he
uses one of those memory charms on every person who hears him slip up, the whole island will be
walking around wearing nothing but woolen mittens and galoshes..
Of course, right now I'd give up my stash of mocha truffles to have him around to mess things up
again. He took off over nine hours ago and I still haven't heard anything. The owl barely
made it here in the storm, poor thing. Thomas refused to tell me what it was all about, of
course, but I'm sure it has something to do with all those killings that happened a few days ago.
Shocking, of course, but I assumed the Ministry would be able to handle that sort of thing without
calling in Tom. Honestly, I'm not sure what his work with the Experimental Charms committee has
to do with solving crimes, but apparantly it was important enough that he essentially abandon his
wife on an island that
No, wait. I'm turning into a bitter old lady, aren't I? It's just that...well, frankly, I'm scared.
I don't like having him gone and I don't like all those rumors that we keep hearing...that some dark
wizard is gaining power whose cohorts think muggle-killing is a better sporting event than the World
Cup...it still sounds like some bad science fiction flik. If he knew he was going to be gone this
long, he could have at least taken me with him...it's not like I would have insisted on following
him around, trying to do his job for him.
Okay, maybe I would have. But at least then I could have stopped at home and checked on the kids.
Mrs. Grinnig is such a nice lady and I'm sure she's taking care of them, but I can't remember if
I told her that Melissa needs to practice her piano at least half an hour a day and that Remus
won't fall asleep until you sing to him...
The pen dropped out of Amanda's hand onto the floor with a slight clink, the only sound besides
the soft ticking of the clock and the driving rain on the window. Bringing her knees to her chin,
she sighed, preparing to continue her solitary vigil.
* * *
She was cleaning Juniper's saddle. The smell of leather and soap permeated her hands, her jeans,
and she loved it. She was always happiest in the barn, except that today something was wrong.
Juniper kept doing doughnuts in his stall, making tight circles and spraying up wet hay and the
mud he had tracked inside from the fields. She walked over to him, calling him softly. She
had always been his favorite, ever since Daddy had purchased him. Instead of his usual
nuzzle, however, he snapped at her. Shocked, she withdrew her hand, as he began to kick the
rear of the stall.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
It was persistant, and for some reason it bothered Amanda more than she could explain.
Thump.
Louder.
Thump.
"Stop." Amanda said softly. The horse glanced her way briefly.
Thump.
"Stop." A little more loudly.
Thump.
"Stop." She was beginning to panic now. "Stop. Stop, please....Stop, damn you, STOP IT!!!
With a start, Amanda woke up, gasping for breath. Odd, dreams about home had always been
pleasant ones, but this one was....
Thump.
Her eyes widened for a moment, before she realized that the knocking was real, that someone
must be at the door...maybe it was Thomas!
But no, he would have apparated. She sighed. It was probably just a clerk...maybe they
finally had realized that all the exterior rooms were flooding. She pulled the afghan around
her tightly, walked over to the entrance, and, undoing the latches, opened the door.
She stepped back slightly, eyes wide. The figure stepped inside, tossing back his hood to
reveal a glimpse of the formal green robes of the Ministry.
"Mrs. Lupin?"
She nodded.
The lines on his hard face softened. "I'm Alastor Moody."
Moody...he had worked with Tom on several occasions. "My husband, have you...." She trailed
off at the look in his eyes, instantly knowing the worst.
"I'm sorry."
The last thing she noticed before passing out was that, finally, the rain had stopped.