It went moderately smoothly, adding Bryce to their family. If one discounted Nora's assorted meltdowns when she realized that she was no longer the center of the universe and Bryce's occasional nightmares from his emotional traumas. However, Nora was normally a quite adaptable soul, so in time, she accepted and adored Bryce as her big brother who was required to pay much attention to her and play dragons all day long.

And while Minerva adored her daughter, because she reminded her so much of Alastor, she grew quite fond of Bryce, who was Kingsley's son in looks and temperament. And yes, she got misty eyed when a introverted Bryce called her 'Mum' for the very first time.

However, something had to ruin their picture perfect life. It was mid-June and Minerva was debating how to handle the current school year. If she chalked it up as a complete waste that meant that there would be a need for remediation for those students who hadn't attended Hogwarts in the past year, plus an increase in the class sizes, which meant more dormitory spaces was needed to be built immediately. It was during this, that Kingsley informed her that the Wizengamot had decided that the Magical World was in need of a permanent leader. Therefore they had changed Kingsley from Acting Minister to the full Minister for Magic.

"They didn't even ask, Minerva," Kingsley protested. "And they've decided we're to have a ball. We're rebuilding most of Magical Britain and they wish to have a ball."

"You'll need dress robes," was Minerva's unhelpful comment. "And you know darn well that there is no one else that should be in charge of rebuilding Britain. Because we need a Muggle-born Minister, as we haven't had one in almost three centuries."

"And he won based on a Quidditch bet," Kingsley reminded her. "So, you believe I should agree to this insanity?"

"A little normalcy would be a welcome relief. Plus you can pin a few medals on people, but keep it… austere. Nothing too elaborate; we're still in mourning."

"I'd want you and the children there, during the swearing at ceremony, which means taking our relationship public," Kingsley reminded her.

"Swearing IN ceremony," Minerva retorted. "Though there will be plenty of swearing at later on. When are they having the ball?"

"Saturday."

"It's Wednesday. Do you expect me to find a proper gown in two days?" protested Minerva.

Kingsley looked over The Daily Prophet, and informed her, "Austerity budget, love. What you're wearing is fine."

"Not amused," Minerva retorted. "However what about you?"

"I have set of new dress robes that I never wore. They're in Barbados, so I'll ask Nessie to pop in and grab them."

"Make sure you try them on, you've put on a little weight since we got married," teased Minerva. "Much like I have."

Really, she had warned him to try on the outfit, so it was his fault and his fault alone when he realized that Nessie had brought him the wrong robes. Well, they were the right robes, as they were the only ones that matched his description of robes in a black robe sheath. However it seemed that his never worn dress robes had been destroyed in Ireland, when Alastor Moody's cottage had been set ablaze. No, the sheath contained Alastor's dress robes, well, not robes, but a bloody black kilt and a matching jacket. With a dress shirt, socks, matching shoes, sporran and a wicked looking dagger.

There were no pants, which meant Alastor had gone regimental.

"Bugger me," Kingsley swore, losing his composure. "They'll think I'm Black Irish!"

He put the outfit on, not really having a choice in the matter as there was nothing else to be done, as he was supposed to meet Minerva in fifteen minutes, having been instructed to be dressed to impress. He was startled to realize that the kilt belonged to a much thinner Alastor as he had already planned on what magical alterations that would be needed to be done. The outfit fit him perfectly, though when he had first met Alastor, Alastor had already outweighed him by a stone or three. He checked himself in the mirror, decided to go regulation, maintaining Alastor's tradition, and then patted himself to make sure everything was down. There was something in the vest pocket, and he pulled it out to find a small package addressed to "Minerva" plus a ring box. He opened the ring box and it confirmed his fears, it was a white gold wedding band.

"Bloody hell, it's his wedding kilt!"

Kingsley was running late, so Minerva decided to chide him, but gently, on how the Minister of Magic needed to be on time. She was expecting him to be delayed because of some ministry nonsense, but instead she found him sitting on the bed wearing… a kilt. A very high quality black kilt and the cut was traditional.

"I have nothing else to wear," Kingsley informed her. His tone was quite odd, as though he wasn't sure if he was about to laugh or not. "It seems that I grabbed the wrong robe bag when I moved my clothes to Barbados."

"This is Alastor's? I never saw him wear it… and it's old… from the sizing, I'd say he was in mid-twenties… Kingsley… may I look at that dagger?" Minerva paused and then held out her hand.

"It's his wedding kilt. What he planning on wearing when he married you."

Minerva inspected the dagger and then handed it back to Kingsley.

"I was correct, that's my grandfather's dagger. My father gave it to him when Alastor requested his permission to marry me, so please keep it. I don't mind if you wear Alastor's kilt. It would be like he's with us in spirit. Though I should warn you that Alastor would be roaring with laughter realizing that he was involved with the Minister of Magic. As it is, there are moments where I must fight the urge to giggle."

"There were a few presents for you in the pocket." Kingsley then handed them over to Minerva. "One is your wedding ring. You should wear it."

"If it fits, Alastor wasn't the only one that's put on a little weight in last few years." Minerva opened the box and then looked at Kingsley. "Would it bother you if I wore it on my right hand? I'd like to wear it and give it to Nora when she's older."

"Let me put it on your finger, since Alastor isn't here to do the honours," Kingsley requested. Minerva nodded her head and Kingsley carefully put it on her right ring finger. He then gave her ring finger a gentle kiss. "Whenever you look at this ring, just remember how much he loved you."

"I don't need a ring for that," Minerva gently informed Kingsley. "Now let's see what is inside this other package."

She opened the note, smiled briefly at its message and then unwrapped the package. She looked at the contents and explained them to Kinsley. "It's the bracelet to match the rose pendant he gave me when he was twelve. Alastor specifically mentions the thorns on the bracelet to match my thorny temperament. Help me put it on, Lee?"

He was awkward with the clasp but before long, she was wearing it. She rubbed her eyes, and apologized to Kingsley.

"This should be a happy day for you and I'm all weepy because of the memories that the stirring of my past have brought to the surface. I'm sorry, Kingsley. This is so horrid for you. Anyway, rumors have it that I am a fair hand at Transfiguration. Do you wish me to change your outfit into something else? Perhaps a nice Dashiki with a matching Kufi? Or a London suit?"

"Alastor bought this to be worn, and I will wear it proudly, though I might add a Kufi. I would ask one thing, Minerva," Kingsley's voice was quite soft and sincere.

"Whatever you want, love," softly assured Minerva.

"Can you Charm it so it stays down? I don't want to be flaunting my bits on the front cover of The Daily Prophet if there's an unexpected updraft."

Rita Skeeter was in her glory, what with the striking picture Kingsley and his family made at his swearing in ceremony. He was holding Bryce in his one arm, Minerva was standing next to him and she was holding the kufi-stealing Nora, whose shocking ginger locks was a big contrast to her family's dark hair. Maybe, they'd think she was adopted, maybe a few might think she was actually Kingsley's biological daughter, it didn't matter. Just as long as his family was there.

The ceremony completed, the children went home to Hogwarts with the dutiful Nessie who had also been included in the seemingly mandatory Shacklebolt-McGongall family portraits.

He kept his partners limited at the ball, mainly Minerva and the various female Order members. He did dance with the newly engaged Madam Pomfrey, offering to perform her marriage to Filius as his first official function as a fully-functional Minster for Magic, but mainly it was a low-key affair. He had insisted on an empty table to represent those that had fallen in the battle against Voldemort which had caused quite the stir, but he didn't care. There was a place setting for Albus, one for Emmeline, one for Alastor, one for Amelia…

He had grabbed a dance with Dora Lupin to prevent being forced to dance with the formidable Augusta Longbottom. She looked like a real toe stomper and Alastor's shoes (and hence Kingsley's toes) weren't up to being trodden upon.

"No, I still don't know who rescued me," Dora teased. "I know you wish to give him a medal, but it's all still a blur. But really, Kingsley, you've given medals to everyone tonight; even Abeforth's goat got one."

"I'm rather disappointed that he didn't bring her, but he says crowds make her … kiddish."

Dora groaned at the pun, and then pounced. "Married life is agreeing with you. However, I never thought you were one for a kilt."

"It was Alastor's old kilt. I thought I'd wear it in remembrance of him," Kingsley lied. Last thing he wished was for someone to find out that he hadn't deliberately chosen to wear the outfit. They would publish it in one of the local gossips rags and Nessie would find out. He really couldn't handle a despondent House Elf as he barely knew what to do with a happy House Elf.

"Kingsley, you can refuse to answer this, but speaking of Alastor. Nora?" Dora asked.

He nodded and further explained, "Keep it under your hat. She will always know that she has two fathers, but we don't need it in the press."

"I don't suppose her first words were, 'Constant Vigiliance'?" Dora grinned and then she faltered in mid-step. She stumbled and Kingsley grabbed her to prevent her from falling.

"You trip?" Kingsley asked. "Your husband will be vexed with me."

"No, a memory just jarred loose. I remember Alastor yelling that at me, but I can't remember where," she admitted.

They continued dancing for a bit, and then he returned her to Remus. The werewolf was still recovering from his injuries suffered at the Battle of Hogwarts, but his future was brighter now that he had multiple job offers.

"Don't start a bidding war between my wife and me," Kingsley reminded Remus.

"He's worth every penny and more," Dora purred as she kissed her husband.

He easily agreed and made the rounds making small talk. He avoided the various females who wished to dance with him by deft maneuvering and blatantly ignoring their 'come hither' gestures. His politicking done, he requested the last dance with his wife.

"I'd like to go home now, because this kilt will be tenting in a bit," he teased Minerva.

"I could fix that for you," Minerva murmured. "I think I know a libido inhibitor."

"Can't we just work out my little problem in bed?"

Perhaps Minerva had a bit too much to drink as she giggled and whispered in his ear, "I love you. And I'm not telling you that just because I've had to deflect multiple hexes directed at causing your kilt to swish too high. I know these last few years haven't been easy for you, and I also know that I haven't told you that I love you often enough. You are the world to me."

"Where's Fred?" Dora Lupin asked. Her voice was intense and her husband knew that tone. She was a serious Auror intent on a quest.

"By the bar," he said. "They're the deafening and maddening crowd."

"We need to talk to him in private. Someplace where we can be heard," Dora said.

It took some cajoling and a threat, but Fred Weasley left his fan club at the bar and returned to their location.

"Something jogged in my brain tonight. All three of us were saved at the Battle of Hogwarts by most likely the same man. We can assume this as it was the same wand used on us. I want to ask you a question, what do you think Alastor Moody would look like if he had a full beard?"

"Ugly as sin, but I mean that in the nicest possible way," quipped Fred.

"Think about it. A full beard would hide most of his facial scarring. He's older, so it would be heavily graying. And what if… he wasn't wearing that god awful fake eye of his, but perhaps had two matching eyes. What if he wasn't limping as badly as he normally did? Would he look like this?"

She pulled a wispy memory from her mind and placed it on a soup bowl. There was a bit of soupy sheen to her memory, but it was, as close as she could recollect, the man who had shouted 'Constant Vigilance, Nymphadora," at her during the height of the Battle of Hogwarts.

"He might look like that," Remus admitted. "That man looks familiar."

"During the middle of the battle, do remember someone yelling 'Constant Vigilance, Nymphadora'?" Dora asked. "Remus? Do you remember what he looked like? Didn't he look a bit like that? Fred?"

For once, Fred Weasley wasn't making a joke, instead he was quite solemn.

"That's the wizard who saved my life," admitted Fred. "The full beard threw me, plus the matching eyes. He limped, but not like Alastor normally did."

"We need to tell Kingsley," Remus decided. "However it begs the question. If Moody was alive, why isn't he here? Why did he come to Hogwarts during the middle of the battle and then disappear again? Perhaps he died at Hogwarts and they never found his body. Would it be fair to rip that old wound open again?"

"We should tell Kingsley," insisted Dora. "His family would need to know that he died a hero. Kingsley is his family, you know that."

"Tell Kingsley tomorrow. Just let him and Minerva have tonight," insisted Remus. As one of the older Order members, he knew that Alastor and Kingsley had a long term coupling, and he experienced firsthand the formerly tension filled treaty of non-aggression between Minerva and Kingsley. "Look at them, let's not interrupt that."

"Agreed. Fred, can you convince your brother to give us his first appointment tomorrow morning?" requested Dora.

"I'll talk to Percy," Fred agreed.

On his first official day as the Real Minster of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt was a wee bit tired. His wife had shown him the proper way of 'dressing' while in a kilt and while that had been educational and rather… delightful… he hadn't gotten much sleep. Also, Bryce had experienced a series of nightmares and it had been Kingsley's turn. That meant he had cuddled Bryce and reassured him that he was safe until Bryce had fallen asleep.

Sometimes, he truly worried about his children. The fourteen month old Nora had two fathers, yet hadn't really had any for six formative months and the five year old Bryce had lost both his biological parents at an early age. He had latched onto Minerva as he didn't really remember his Mum. Poppy had warned Kingsley it would take time for the two of them to develop a father-son bond. Bryce remembered his father, barely, and Kingsley had copied a few of Bryce's happy memories regarding his dad and saved them. When Bryce was older, he'd be able to relieve those happy moments through the use of a pensieve.

Had raising him been this stressful for his grandparents? Probably, but all Kingsley remembered was his grandparents had constantly reassured him how much they loved him and wanted him.

Therefore, he told his children how much he loved them every chance he had. If that meant, holding and consoling a traumatized Bryce while Bryce cried himself to sleep, Kingsley would do so.

Then today, he had a godawful early meeting with Remus and Dora Lupin and Fred Weasley. Percy had added the meeting and then tentatively canceled the rest of his schedule. Percy's terse note of 'You may want the rest of the day off after you talk to them" was not reassuring in the least.

He was holding his third cuppa of the day when he roughly ordered Remus Lupin to spill it. No blathering, no nattering, just give the issues to him straight. However, he soon regretted his curtness when Remus Lupin told him that the trio believed that Alastor Moody had been the mysterious mage who had saved lives during the Battle of Hogwarts.

"I have to go," Kingsley informed the trio. Yes, they thought he was returning home to Minerva to tell her the new. It was the truth that he was heading back to Hogwarts, but it was to a certain private ward where a man was recovering from a poisonous snake bite. Because if anyone had been involved with Alastor Moody's being rescued from a pack of Death Eaters, it would be Severus Snape, Dumbledore's man to the very end.

"Percy, cancel all my meetings today. Also I need you to clean up my office as I dropped my cuppa. I'll explain later."

That done, he ignored his sputtering secretary who wished to know where he was going, and then Kingsley Disapparated directly into the Hogwarts' infirmary.

"Good morning, Poppy. I just wanted to check on Severus." He didn't explain, he didn't ask if Severus was up to seeing him, he just barged into Severus' ward. "I need everyone to leave the room, now. Not you, Severus."

Severus Snape didn't look him in the eyes; instead he stared at the ceiling.

"I know you're still recovering and you cannot talk properly due to the damage to your throat, but I need to know. Did Alastor Moody save your life at the Battle of Hogwarts?"

Severus Snape said not a word and Kingsley repeated himself.

"If he's alive, I must let Minerva know. You understand why. Was Alastor the one that saved your live?"

Head nod.

"Where is he?" Kingsley attempted to remain cool and collected, but inwardly, he feared the loss of his family. He wasn't the biological father, he had no standing… If Moody wished custody, Kingsley didn't have a leg, real or otherwise, to stand upon. And… he would step aside so Minerva and Alastor could be together.

Head shake.

"Do you know where he was?"

Nod.

Within moments, Kingsley Shacklebolt was arriving at the Brain and Spinal Centre of Manchester. He had taken care to approximate Muggle clothing to fit in. However no experience in all his years of being an Auror prepared him to be greeted by two Physicians with a hearty, "Hello, Kingsley. How's Alastor doing?"

Kwasi St. James and Anna Chalmers had been more than helpful, giving him a full run down on what happened to Alastor and listing his injuries. It helped that he was able to Magically produce the various Muggle forms that claimed he was Alastor's next of kin and that he was permitted to talk to Alastor's physicians.

They detailed his spinal injuries, the closed head injury, his memory loss, his pneumonia and the barbaric ways they had treated it. Screwing metal pins into Alastor's head? Removing part of his skull? Drugging him into unconsciousness? Sticking a tube down his throat so he could breathe? Yet, he could tell how they cared for the crusty Alastor, sense how they had hoped that they had done their best for him. Maybe they had, because Alastor never would have survived at St. Mungo's with those injuries. Not with Voldemort in charge of the Ministry.

"There was a Colin who popped in to check on him several times. He also did a walkabout early December and chatted up a shop girl. Gave him a set of Tarot cards for which he had the talent."

Anna added, "He really was quite good with them as he knew things. Like how Kwasi and I are dating. We found him a flat and he moved in. In his spare time, he did some volunteer work here, like helping with our pediatric patients. He took a real shine to them, and they adored him."

"He does a wonderful Father Christmas," inserted Kwasi.

"Alastor?" Kingsley asked.

"Yes."

"ALASTOR?" repeated Kingsley.

"Yes, we even have a picture. Put a bit of cornstarch in his beard so it was white. We last saw him on … May 3rd? He said his memory had come back and he was returning home. We were really happy for him, because for the longest time, he was severely depressed because nobody was looking for him." Anna's attempt at being non-judgmental was herculean, but Kingsley could still hear her censure.

"We were told he was dead. Colin told us that he was dead. Else I would have searched for him. I would have. We still would believe that he was dead, but somebody thought they saw him in Manchester, so I started checking the various hospitals."

Kwasi snapped his fingers, and began rummaging through the papers on his desk. "The shop girl came in one day looking for him. Seems she had come across an item that she thought he'd want. When I told her Alastor had returned home, she left me her card just in case Alastor stopped in. Here it is."

Kingsley chatted with them some more, thanked them for their care of Alastor, and promised, promised, that he would bring Alastor in for a visit.

His information collected, he decided to visit the lilac-haired shop girl. Spinning a story, he informed Natalie that Alastor was back in the hospital due to his injuries and that he wished to purchase something for which Alastor to pass the time. She went to a closet and began pulling out items. It seemed that they were castoffs from the same source that had contributed the Tarot Cards.

"I saved these for him because he's got the Talent. I could feel it in him and I can feel it in you."

It took longer for him to pay for the items than to use their magical signature to locate Alastor Moody. Uncertain of how to proceed, he had to really think on his next decision. Should he contact Minerva or not? On one hand, he really should, but, both sources had reported Alastor as being more than a bit odd. Perhaps, he should find out what they meant before he got Minerva involved.

Alastor was sitting in his flat, viewing the Tarot cards.

He kept throwing the Kings of Swords, over and over and over again. He shuffled the cards repeatedly and the King of Sword was the card that responded to every single query. Each time it appeared, the King of Swords' face was becoming more and more distinctive as he came closer and closer to Alastor. He could see The King's gold earring, the stubble on his face, the bags under his eyes. The King of Swords was physically depleted.

He spread all the cards out, and every single stinking one of them was the King of Swords.

There was a polite rap on the door and Alastor Moody roughly ordered Kingsley Shacklebolt to come on in.