A/N - I have officially entered the last two weeks of the semester, which means papers and finals and all that lovely college-related stuff. And from all this madness I bring you this *waves at the story below* with profuse apologies for the delayed nature of this posting. This particular story acts as a direct sequel to Falling Slowly (yes, you should probably go read that first. Else you'll be wondering why there's a Tiberius Kirk wandering around Hogwarts) and will be two parts (this chapter being part one). However, I'm pleased to say that coming soon is a much longer, epic and multi-chapter fic that will likely start appearing over Christmas Break, and I'm using this story as a sort of springboard to get there, if you will. This all has to happen for the next story to happen. Or at least to aid the plot lol. I don't much want to give away details, but I will say that it's set in 1942...which if you'll recall means a certain Mr. Riddle will be in his fifth year at Hogwarts...hintedy-hint-hint. Rest assured, the main characters will still be Ms. McGonagall and Messrs. Moody and Kirk - it's sure to be an interesting year for the three of them. Alright enough rambling on my part.
The events of this chapter take place a few weeks after the closing of Falling Slowly (so seriously, if you haven't, go read), probably around late November. Same as always, read, review, and most importantly, enjoy!
Wand light flickered and faded, heavy footsteps echoing in the dark. The hour had reached some time well past midnight, well past curfew and well past any time that any students ought to be out wandering the Hogwarts' halls. Alastor Moody moved quickly to keep up, largely allowing himself to be dragged along and doing his best to stay quiet. The long fingers latched around his wrist belonged to the exceptionally tall Tiberius Kirk, who typically tried to face any situation with a laugh and smile. At present however, Tiberius was positively furious, something the Scotsman rarely ever managed, and Alastor had decided silence and surrender would be the best option. How precisely Tiberius had found him was a bit of a mystery in and of itself, but not one that Alastor presently felt much like attempting to solve. He had a rather strong feeling that any attempts at speaking in general would be cut off with a very sharp glare. The previous two attempts had at any rate. The wand light flared again, casting both boys into white light and shadow and waking several portraits. Alastor nodded vaguely in the direction of one particular annoyed sounding portrait of three wizards playing cards. In fact, Alastor had meant to murmur an apology until he realized that the wizards were not so much complaining about the light but about Alastor's own too-long hair and rather disheveled appearance. This seemed highly unfair, given the circumstances, and really he certainly did not think his hair was quite that bad, and that sort of talk was just unnecessary at best. Quickly reverting back to the temper that always simmered just below the surface, Alastor muttered a few choice words in the direction of the portrait, though the effect was somewhat lost as Tiberius gained speed in an apparent effort to dislocate Alastor's shoulder. The corridor was utterly empty and the hour was late and suddenly Alastor realized that he was in fact quite tired. All the evening's excitement must have finally done the job. Now perhaps Alastor could manage a decent night of quiet, dreamless sleep.
Reaching the end of the corridor, Tiberius leaned around the corner and looked both ways, just to make sure no one happened to be on the staircase. Curfew was well past, after all, and Tiberius was a prefect and would be in even more trouble than Alastor for being caught wandering the halls. Alastor did feel a certain twinge of remorse at this thought, but when no professors or prefects or even ghosts appeared, the feeling faded somewhat. The two of them had been out past curfew before. Never, admittedly, in this particular sort of situation, and always in the company of Minerva McGonagall, the third member of their little group. Of course, Minerva had really stopped venturing out after she herself had made prefect, and had stopped speaking much to Alastor himself lately, although she still seemed to get on fine with Tiberius, and...Alastor shook his head, determined not to follow that train of thought, not to keep worrying about Minerva. As the duo stood at the end of the corridor, just between the darker shadows and the open dimness of the staircase, Alastor thought perhaps he might suggest a speedy return to Gryffindor Tower. Tiberius seemed to have other ideas, however, lighting his wand and shoving the suddenly bright object into Alastor's face. Wincing at the light after so long in the dark corridors, Alastor covered his eyes with one hand and backed away towards the safety of the shadows, directly into a wall. Blinking blearily and trying to summon up the same temper that had gotten him into this mess, Alastor tried to pretend that Tiberius did not look quite so angry. The wand light cast his face into odd shadows, and in the darkness Tiberius probably looked more furious than he actually was. Or at least, Alastor certainly hoped so.
"So what brings you out so late?"
"I've spent tha past hour looking fer ye," Tiberius' voice was dangerously low, his accent heavy. Merlin, but he really was angry, Alastor realized. "I cannae believe ye...why in Merlin's name would ye..."
Fists clenched and mouth still moving, Tiberius trailed off, at an utter loss for words.
"I was out for a walk," Alastor muttered, determined not to let Tiberius guilt him over the matter. He had been out walking, and he had been out walking plenty of other nights without anyone taking it upon themselves to come looking for him. With that thought, Alastor managed to summon up some indignation over the matter, glaring sullenly up at his friend. Tiberius did not appear willing to accept this answer, however, and in fact seemed rather disbelieving.
"Really? In tha middle of tha night? Were ye sleepwalking?"
"Not really. Just...couldn't sleep," Alastor shrugged, knowing Tiberius wanted more of an explanation but refusing to give one. In all honesty, Alastor had not slept properly in weeks because Minerva had been avoiding him spectacularly and the whole issue was driving him positively mad. Alastor could not for the life of him guess why she, who had been his friend since first year, would be dodging him all of a sudden, and the constant puzzling over the matter had led to several midnight walks around the castle. Well, actually, he did have some vague idea. More than vague, really. He had a very good idea as to why she might avoid him, but Alastor sincerely hoped that this idea was not in fact true at all, and he was not about to share his theories with anyone else.
"So," Tiberius' voice cut across his train of thought, "Ye went fer a walk...and then please, please tell me ye just happened to stumble across two Slytherins who had passed out in tha hall."
Alastor frowned, raising one eyebrow and staring defiantly up at Tiberius, utterly silent. Seconds passed, the wand light shifting up and down as Tiberius waited. When no response came, Tiberius finally dropped his head into his hands and groaned.
"Fer Merlin's sake Alastor, they were seventh years!"
Alastor smirked proudly, arms crossed as he laughed at Tiberius' reaction.
"And beaten by a fifth year. A Gryffindor fifth year no less. I suspect they won't mention that to many people."
"No," Tiberius sighed, head still in his hands, "I suspect they'll just be murderin' ye in yer sleep."
Tiberius seemed to have lapsed from furious to merely frustrated, which Alastor took as a very good sign. With any luck, the matter would drop entirely. After all, Tiberius had been pulling Alastor out of fights since first year. All that had changed was that Alastor had actually started winning most of the fights he managed to start. Tiberius remained silent, wand pointing back in the direction of the empty corridor and face hidden in shadow. Alastor decided an attempt at humor was in order, if nothing else then as a blatant distraction.
"Makes you feel any better, they started it."
"Ye know, why is it someone else is always starting it?" Tiberius fixed him with a pointed glare. The wand swung around abruptly, once more blinding and bright and directly in Alastor's face. Somewhere in the distance Alastor would have sworn he heard the portraits complaining once more. "Somehow I donnae think I believe that."
Alastor scowled now, not really appreciating Tiberius' accusation and ignoring the fact that his hair had once again fallen into his eyes. The Slytherins had started the fight, whether Tiberius wanted to believe him or not. Alastor had been walking along, minding his own business, and out of nowhere two older boys had decided to harass the lone Gryffindor. Only their jinx had missed wide and crashed into a suit of armor, badly startling Alastor and giving away the two attackers. Apparently, the boys were one of the few Hogwarts students who had not heard of Alastor Moody's awful temper - or been warned that as of late, his temper was worse than usual. And at that particular moment, Alastor had been in a pretty foul mood indeed, and more than happy to vent on the two unsuspecting Slytherins. He was a fairly good dueler, and he was quick, and both of his opponents seemed to be fairly skilled as well, which made the fight all that much more fun. Alastor had resorted to a bit of trickery to improve his odds, jinxing the suit of armor to fly at the Slytherins. The armor knocked both boys down in a clashing roar of skin and bone and metal and stone, and Alastor had been just about to start charming the two boys Gryffindor scarlet when Tiberius chose to make his appearance. Tiberius had taken one look at the pile of bodies on the floor, sworn, rolled his eyes, glared quite pointedly at Alastor, and then helped his friend hide the two Slytherins in a conveniently located broom cupboard. That of course had led to Tiberius dragging Alastor forcibly away from the scene before any real explanation could be given, and Alastor certainly did not feel like explaining now. Unfortunately, Tiberius did not seem about to drop the subject.
"Look, Alastor, ye have been in a terrible temper these last few weeks. And I want ta know why."
"None of your business," Alastor grumbled, finally tiring of this conversation and trying to walk away. His aforementioned temper flared again as Tiberius roughly pushed him back against the wall, eyes blazing.
"If it's a fight ye want, it's a fight I'll give ye. And then at least ye'll know I'm serious," Tiberius muttered, one hand holding Alastor's shirt and the other leaving his wand just below Alastor's chin. The threat was a bluff, it simply had to be. Tiberius was all lanky height, angles and arms and legs, and Alastor's sturdier build surely had the clear advantage.
"It's none of your business," Alastor repeated slowly, mindful of the wand that hovered just below his chin and suddenly wishing his own wand was not currently situated in his back pocket. Tiberius did not wear the look of someone who appeared to be bluffing, but then again, Tiberius had always been good at fooling people.
"I hope ye dinnae plan on sleepin' tonight, because if ye keep this up neither one of us is gettin' back to tha common room anytime soon," Tiberius tightened his hold on Alastor's shirt, still glowering. Alastor merely glowered back, nearing the level of furious now, feeling his pulse speed up and a shot of adrenaline pound through him. All he wanted was sleep and peace and quiet and for Tiberius to mind his own bloody business and drop the interrogation.
"What exactly is it you want me to say?"
"Tha truth, that'd be a nice start," Tiberius suggested lightly. "What's gotten into ye?"
Alastor closed his eyes, ignoring the impulse to swing a punch and instead trying to determine if any possible way existed for him to talk his way out of this mess.
"I...it's just this stupid thing...bout some girl. Not important."
Tiberius' eyes narrowed suspiciously and Alastor swore under his breath.
"If it's not important, why are ye out picking fights with tha Slytherins?"
"I told you, they started it!" Alastor insisted, finally reaching out and pushing Tiberius away. Tiberius staggered slightly but recovered quickly, stepping back into place and leveling his wand with Alastor's face. The two struggled for a moment, Alastor's hand locked around Tiberius' wrist in an effort to remove the wand and the advantage. Finally Tiberius let go, and the wand hit the ground and skittered away, still lit and glowing from the floor, odd shadows rippling across the walls.
"Fine. They started it. But it's not tha first fight ye've been in," Tiberius stumbled backward again as Alastor began to shove outright, "More like tha seventh. Any other prefect had found ye, ye'd be in detention for weeks. Never mind if a professor had been out and looking."
"Thanks so much then," Alastor ducked as Tiberius swung his wand arm in a wide arc and completely missed the knee that caught him in the stomach. Breath left him in a whoosh, and his knees hit the stone floor with a painful crack. Tiberius was moving past in an effort to retrieve his wand, but Alastor saw him in time to reach out and grab hold of one thin leg. The sudden resistance overbalanced him and Tiberius fell with a thud.
"Just think, if Minerva had been out on patrol tonight," Tiberius was saying, and Alastor drew in a sharp breath, feeling his pulse suddenly pounding in his ears. He dove forward and grabbed for Tiberius, but Tiberius had already rolled onto his back and Alastor succeeded only in taking another knee to the stomach. Tiberius made no attempt at rescuing his wand, this time aiming to pin Alastor to the floor. Backlight, a bold shape against the white wand light, Tiberius stood out painfully in the corridor like the shadow of a scarecrow given life.
"Don't bring her into this!" Alastor very nearly shouted, and only a brief glance at the empty, shadowed corridor reminded him that volume perhaps was not the best option. The pair had rolled across the corridor by this point, perilously close to where the stairs began, and Alastor found his face suddenly pressed to the very cold stone floor. Old habits kicked in, fury and fighting instinct, and Alastor swung upward with one elbow, catching Tiberius in the ribs.
"She's our friend. Or at least my friend. Dunno why you started avoiding her all of a sudden," Tiberius breathed the last in a rush as Alastor's elbow connected with his ribs once again. Alastor only managed to feel angrier, pushing himself up off the floor and throwing his weight to one side, effectively throwing Tiberius to the floor and quickly rolling to follow. He grabbed Tiberius' shirt with one hand, turning his friend face up once more, his own wand now held threateningly in one fist.
"I'm not avoiding her! She's avoiding me, and I don't understand why, because I didn't do anything, it was her, or at least at first, and-" Alastor clapped his hands over his mouth at Tiberius' puzzled look. The words had left him in a rush and now he had said too much and oh Merlin this was bad. Very bad. Alastor slid backward and away from Tiberius rapidly.
"What you on about mate?" Tiberius asked quietly, the most calmly he had spoken all night, and Alastor wondered if perhaps he could outrun Tiberius and lock him out of the common room.
"I...we...you remember that night, where we got into the fight with Riddle and his friends?" Alastor shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, still trying to catch his breath and not panic. Tiberius grinned, smile bright in the darkness as he nodded.
"Oh, aye. Made for an excellent story tha next day at breakfast, that. Not ta mention tha nice black eye ye had."
"Yes...well...did you...Minerva she..." Alastor trailed off, running both hands through his hair and entirely unsure what to say next. How precisely was one supposed to tell this sort of thing to your best mate? Fortunately, Tiberius seemed to guess where the sentence had been going. At least, more or less.
"She waited up for ye. Had your wand. I remember," Tiberius nodded again, still grinning, and Alastor felt his stomach sink to somewhere around his ankles. Merlin, he was going to have to tell him. Slowly, shakily, Alastor stood to his feet, fully prepared to run if necessary.
"I sort of kissed Minerva."
Apparently the first time, spoken as barely a whisper and when Alastor had been pointedly looking at the floor, had not been loud enough for Tiberius, who had by this point regained his feet as well, to hear properly.
"Sorry mate, what?" Tiberius glanced up from dusting off his trousers, still grinning.
"I sort of kissed Minerva," Alastor repeated, eyes closed and hoping his expression did not look quite as pained as he thought it might. Much to his surprise, silence followed this statement. After a minute or two, Alastor opened one eye, then the other, only to see Tiberius gaping at him.
"Tiberius?"
Not entirely frozen, Tiberius had one hand covering his mouth and the other running through his mop of already-messy brown curls. Alastor snapped his fingers in front of Tiberius' face.
"Tiberius, really."
"YOU DID WHAT?" Tiberius reacted, finally. And very loudly, the shout echoing off the walls of the empty corridor. Alastor shushed him and Tiberius clapped a hand over his mouth once more as the pair waited in silence to ensure that no one had overheard. No warning footsteps indicated that trouble was approaching, and slowly, Tiberius peeled away his hand.
"You. Did. What?"
Alastor winced at each one, once again considering simply running for the safety of the dormitory. Unfortunately he knew full well that the safety was marginal at best, since Tiberius did in fact share the room. "I sort of kissed Minerva."
"You mentioned that part," Tiberius said dryly. "Firstly, how do ye sort of kiss someone?"
"Well...she kissed me, really. And then I kissed her, I think. But she definitely started it," Alastor added, just in case he had been unclear about that part to begin with.
"You've got ta talk ta her," Tiberius groaned again, head in his hands, muffling his voice. "As in, soon. Tomorrow. Or today. Whatever time it is."
"I don't think she wants to talk to me," Alastor mumbled, eyes on the floor. "She's been avoiding me, in case you haven't noticed."
"Well firstly, no, I'm not helping ye corner her," Tiberius spoke before Alastor ever even had a chance to offer the idea. "You'll not drag me into tha middle."
"What am I supposed to do then?" Alastor asked exasperatedly.
"Catch her in tha common room," Tiberius suggested after a moment's thought. "Pretend you need help on homework or something."
Alastor considered the idea for a moment. He did honestly need help with an essay for Potions, so perhaps he could make that work. How had he not thought of this tactic before?
"Alright. But what if...what do I say?"
Tiberius had walked away to retrieve his wand at last, and his voice echoed down the corridor.
"Really, ye want me to tell you how to do everything?"
"Would you?" Alastor chanced. "By the way, sorry for...tackling you and all that."
"Tis fine. And no," Tiberius said shortly, brushing his robes off. "No. Just say whatever comes ta mind. Well, maybe not whatever. Donnae swear, that's usually bad."
Alastor resisted the urge to hit him again and perhaps rescind that apology as well.
"What if she...what if it was just a thank you sort of thing? You know...she was thanking me for jumping to her defense or something like that," he added when Tiberius frowned confusedly. The idea had been plaguing him ever since Minerva had first begun avoiding him, starting as a horrified sort of feeling and developing into a constant ache in his chest whenever he happened to see her. Alastor knew full well why he had kissed her. But why had she kissed him? And why had she not spoken to him since?
"Well, first ye should consider yourself lucky, because I certainly didn't get a kiss," Tiberius laughed good-naturedly, "And second, why does it matter?"
Alastor felt his stomach wrench unpleasantly even as he forced a smile and a laugh. Tiberius was supposed to reassure him, not confirm the fact that his fear was a possibility. Merlin, more than a possibility, a likelihood. Alastor began to feel faintly ill.
"Suppose it doesn't, really," Alastor murmured, tucking his wand back into his pocket and quite ready to go to bed and be done with this night.
"Good," Tiberius clapped an arm over Alastor shoulder. "Now, let's get back to the tower, please?"
Alastor let himself be dragged along again, eyes glumly on his feet, the floor, a few of the portraits, and entirely ignoring Tiberius' presence. He would talk to Minerva tomorrow, that much he could manage. And perhaps he ought to tell her how he felt, that might be worth a mention as well. Surely, the conversation would go spectacularly well, and whatever misunderstanding existed would be resolved. Then Minerva would talk to him and they would get back to being proper friends and all would be right with the world once more. At least, Alastor certainly hoped so. He was not entirely sure he would be able to stand the alternative.