Interlude II

"Are you certain you won't take a drink, Alastor?"

Moody drew his hip flask, tapping it with his fingernails and making an almost musical sound.

"Of course," Albus sighed, giving the slightest flick of his wand.

The bottle of wine on the table rose into the air, tilting and pouring itself into the goblet.

"So," Moody said, "you badger me into coming to teach here because you want the extra security. Did it never cross your mind to simply not host the Triwizard Tournament? You'd be a lot safer without the strangers, especially those Durmstrang lot."

"The choice was not entirely my own. The Ministry decided it was time to renew the Tournament, and the Board of Governors agreed with them."

"I hear you managed to kick Malfoy off of that," Moody said, "How'd you pull that one off?"

Dumbledore smiled, his entire face brightening up with the motion.

"A thrilling tale indeed, and one that is far more young Mr Potter's to tell than mine. Ask him what happened to his sock, I do believe he'll be eager to enlighten you."

"Do you really expect me to believe that you couldn't push the Tournament off?"

Leaning back in his armchair with a pensive expression on his face, Dumbledore took a sip of his wine before smacking his lips and answering.

"Certainly I could. But improved international relations are never something to scoff at."

His eyes seemed to gain intensity, his piercing gaze focusing on Moody.

"I cannot counter Voldemort's plans if I do not have information about them," he said, his voice lacking its previous humour. "I do not possess that information at this time. If he does manage to regain his body, we will be in much the same state as we were before Harry rendered him powerless. Perhaps if the other countries are friendlier toward us than they were back then, they will not deem his return to be a mere internal matter. Their assistance could prove invaluable."

"If you trust them."

"I would imagine it makes for a lonely life, trusting nobody."

Moody shrugged, raising his silver flask almost in salute. "Maybe. But it certainly makes for a life."

"Life is about more than mere survival, Alastor."

"You need to survive to have a life. Anyway, what exactly do you expect me to do? Or do you just want me here for the extra security?"

"I expect you to teach. Should Voldemort manage to one day return, our students will certainly benefit having gained from your expertise."

"Even the ones who would happily join him?"

Albus nodded gravely.

"The circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant when compared with their ability to choose. Even those from...more misguided families, shall we say, can still choose to make their own decisions."

Moody rubbed his chin, looking like he was just barely holding back a comment.

"And I will ask you to look out for Harry Potter. Already since he has come to Hogwarts he has thwarted Voldemort's plans, and they were actually face to face then. Voldemort does not forget an incident like that."

"You think Voldemort wants to do something to the boy," Moody said flatly.

"I do not think anything, just yet. But I feel certain that Voldemort would want to show his superiority and might over the boy who brought about his downfall, even if only temporarily."

"So. Teach, watch Potter, and watch the foreigners. Not to mention Karkaroff and Snape. A lovely start to my quiet retirement."

"Severus has my full confidence. Your attention need not be focused on him."

"You trust too easily, Albus. Far too easily."

Dumbledore just smiled in response.

"The teaching should be easy enough. Lupin sent me some information about what he was doing last year. Seems to have done a decent job."

"Yes, Remus was rather successful. It was quite a welcome surprise to have a competent Defence professor for a change. Now, there are several students who I would appreciate if you kept an eye on, perhaps even try to build a rapport with."

"I keep an eye on everyone," Moody said, his magical eye spinning around to emphasize the point. "Who are these kids?"

"Firstly, Miss Ginevra Weasley. She goes by Ginny, I believe."

"Arthur's daughter?"

"The very same. Tell me, Alastor. How much did you hear about the Chamber of Secrets incident?"

"Not much. You did a pretty good job of keeping everything under wraps."

"It wasn't all my work," Dumbledore said modestly, "Fudge didn't want to reduce confidence in Hogwarts either. What precisely did you hear?"

"Very little. A bunch of petrifications, rumours that Potter fought a basilisk."

"Harry did kill the basilisk," Dumbledore said, reaching out and stroking Fawkes, "with a little help, of course. An enchanted diary had made its way to Miss Weasley. A diary enchanted by Voldemort himself during his school years."

Moody's eyebrows rose.

"She was possessed by a memory of Voldemort, Alastor. It was she who opened the Chamber, she who set the basilisk upon her fellow students. And if not for Harry's destruction of the diary, her life, her very soul would have been sapped from her, giving the shade of Voldemort a semblance of life."

"She…was possessed by him? For how long?"

"She had the diary for close to a year," Albus sighed, "it was enchanted to affect her mental and emotional state, to make her feel like she loved and needed him."

"And she's just fine now?"

Albus nodded, smiling slightly at Moody's doubtful tone.

"The capacity for resilience in children is too often overlooked. She is not quite as fine as she could be, but she's certainly getting there. Her improvements have been nothing short of remarkable."

"You still want me to keep an eye on her," Moody said slowly, "you don't really think she's better."

"I do believe she is better. But I would be very surprised if she was not still experiencing guilt and shame, or if the remnants of those emotions the diary made her feel were entirely gone.

She certainly has been going through the process of healing, but it would be irresponsible to not pay attention to how she continues."

"What've you done until now?"

"Last year, Minerva met with her on a semi-regular basis and kept a watch on her for the rest of the time. But with the extra work brought on for her by the Tournament, she will not be able to be as present as she was. All I want is that you watch her for signs of loneliness and solitary behaviour, and that you try to build up her self-confidence as much as you can."

Moody chuckled, "I owe Arthur more than one favour anyway."

"Wonderful. If you can get her to open up to you about her experience, that would be the best. She very much enjoys Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Moody shrugged.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Excellent. As for the other students, there are a few with issues that bear discussion…"

"Percy's not with you?" Molly asked.

"Said he'll be home a little bit later than usual today," Arthur said, stepping out of the fireplace and brushing his robes off, "Apparently Crouch has been giving him a bit more responsibility with the logistics of the Tournament."

"That's wonderful! What's he doing?"

"He's been put in charge of clearing the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang travel arrangements with the other countries they'll be passing through. Durmstrang's the bigger hassle, of course, but even Beauxbatons won't be coming straight from France."

"Why not?"

Arthur shrugged. "Percy was a tad too busy to explain the details to me. I'm sure we'll hear all about it when he gets home."

"We will," she said fondly, "I doubt he'll be able to hold himself back from telling us."

"I'd say not. It's really quite impressive, how well he's taken to the job. People keep complimenting me on him."

She gave him a peck on the cheek once he'd hung his cloak up, before turning and walking toward the kitchen.

"Percy does know how to work hard," she said, "if only the twins took his lead."

"They'll be fine, Molly. They're bright enough boys, and they know where to draw the line with their japes."

"I hope so," She muttered, "otherwise they'll just end up like that Thistleten boy."

"Have you heard from them yet?"

"Not yet. You know the boys, we'll be lucky if they send something before Halloween. We did get an owl from Ginny though."

"Oh?"

"She didn't have much to say, only that she's very excited for the Tournament, and that she arrived safely in school."

She looked over at her husband, her lower lip trembling slightly.

"I really didn't like how-how distant she was, over the holidays. I barely felt like I could talk to her, Arthur."

"I know," he said, "I saw it too. And then at the World Cup, after those-those people sent up the Dark Mark. She was just so quiet. I don't think she said a word until the next day."

"She's better than how she was last summer," Molly admitted, "but I still don't like it."

"She is doing better though. That's the main thing. And now that she's really becoming a teenager, some moodiness is to be expected. Remember what Charlie was like at her age?"

"Charlie hadn't been through what she has," Molly said bitterly, "and now that Percy's not at school, who's looking out for her?"

"The twins and Ron might be a bit irresponsible sometimes, but only with things that aren't so important. They'll look out for her, Molly. They will."

"I hope so."

"And the staff will as well," Arthur continued, "Professor Dumbledore said he'd ask Alastor to make a point of it, and you know what he's like. She's in good hands, dear. She'll be fine."

"I just want her to be normal again," Molly said, her voice hitching as her eyes welled up, "like she was before-before everything. I just want it all to be over."

"It will be," Arthur said, "but I don't know what we can do to speed that up, other than giving her the space she needs to figure herself out. I don't think there's anything we can do, except making sure that we show how much we love and support her."

"I know that. I just hate having to-to sit on the sidelines while she's clearly still struggling."

"Me too," Arthur sighed, "but we've managed the last year, and she is getting better. That's the important thing."

Just then, they heard the sound of the fireplace roaring to life.

A quick glance at the clock told them that Percy had returned.

"Hello," Percy called, "Mum? Dad? I'm home."

"Hi, Percy," Arthur called, while Molly dried her eyes on a handkerchief, "you're just in time for dinner."

Percy walked into the kitchen, a bright smile on his face, immediately beginning to tell them about his new responsibilities.

Molly smiled as she listened, her worries about her daughter pushed back to the corner of her mind.