"What the hell is that?" a gruff voice demanded.

Anthea blinked, focusing back on Alastor. She raised an eyebrow, searching his mismatched eyes. "What do you mean?"

They were both sitting on a blanket, a simple picnic between them. Elves had arranged it all for their break between two training sessions.

"The… thing… city… in your mind." He looked almost dazed, and this didn't fit with his hard, scarred features. Anthea wanted to shake him out of this state, but didn't dare touch him. She knew her mentor was twitchy at best, and even she could be considered a threat. He wouldn't want to harm her, but sometimes his body acted without his mind's ascent.

"The… uh. You tried reading my mind?" She couldn't quite suppress the hint of betrayal in her voice, and at that moment she was glad that she had taken measures to organise her memories. Now, she hadn't planned for it being a defence mechanism, but she wouldn't complain.

"You're distracted and sad. I mentioned a wandless spell, and you barely reacted. I just wanted to know why, and couldn't bear myself to ask. I'm sorry, lass. I didn't mean to really intrude, just to glance at the thoughts at the surface of your mind." He lowered his gaze to his hands, covered in calluses and scars, then brought it back to her. 'Sheepish' didn't suit Alastor Moody much either.

"I just… The schoolyear will start soon. You'll stop coming."

He frowned, leaning towards her to put a flask in her hand. She sniffed at it by reflex, winning an approving glance from the man. "I ain't gonna stop, lass. You need me. And I like you, weird mindscape and all." His tone, as gentle as it was, demanded an explanation.

"You saw a huge city in my head. I-I read about it in a Muggle book. They call it Tokyo, it's in Japan. I wanted to organise my thoughts and memories, and it was a good way of doing it. Plus, I thought it was pretty, the lights and all, and it makes me want to hang out there more." She picked up a sandwich and took a small bite, her stomach tied into knots.

"Well… It's a good thing. And if I had known about it, I wouldn't have served you the 'wandless magic is hard' discourse. A lass your age who can give her mind structure and protection like that, she's already doing wandless magic. What do you know of Occlumency?"

Anthea schooled her features, still eating her sandwich. "I heard the word around, that's all."

"And that's already far more than a girl double your age should know, but since you're not just any girl…" He sighed and shifted his weight to the right. His magic foot had been bothering him of late, not that he had said as much to her. She knew the signs, though. Even while sitting, he was in pain. "Occlumency is the art of protecting your mind against invasions, but defining it as such, while correct, is almost incomplete. Occlumency also helps you to organise your thoughts, not that you need help with that, and to reign in your emotions. Not something I would teach someone so young usually, but I think it could help with… well, Minerva called it 'autism'. I didn't understand it fully, though. It's a muggle notion."

Anthea tried not to fidget, and failed. The knot in her stomach eased a little. "It's not a big deal anyway. It doesn't bother me too much on a day-to-day basis."

"Not a big deal, no, in the sense that it doesn't change the way I view you. It is, however, important in the sense that I will be able to understand you and adjust my teaching to you better once I read more about it."

"But I don't want you to have to adjust, sir." She couldn't quite suppress the whine from her voice, no matter how hard she tried. She hated sounding so much like a bratty kid.

"Why don't you? It only leads to better teaching on my part and better learning on yours. Besides, adaptation is an important skill to have." He shrugged his massive shoulders, staring at her like a hawk. Sometimes, she thought he could read her mind, no matter how ridiculous such a notion was. Occlumency didn't have anything to do with what Muggles thought mind-reading was. The mind wasn't a book, for starters. Or so Alastor had just said. Now Anthea started to see how ridiculous the notion was.

"So, how can Occlumency help me with that?" she asked, gesturing in a way that meant her mess of a mind.

Alastor didn't answer right away. She watched him stare at her, rubbing his chin and stretching his legs. He still had the two. Knowing that he would lose one soon pained Anthea more than she could put into words. "Well," he said after a while, "think about it like this: the way you sorted your memories, you can do the same with emotions, sensations, anything that goes through your mind. Minerva said you could get overstimulated, or so bored you wanted to break something just for the thrill of it. Both are things you can manage through Occlumency. It's not miraculous, mind. You're still gonna feel it, just without the edge to it that actually hurts."

She didn't answer, and he didn't push her. Maybe she wasn't quite as good as she thought, and he was aware that she had something on her mind. Just the same, he gave her time and silence to wrap her thoughts around the feelings that were slowly creeping their way into her heart and settling there, unwanted and untamed. "I don't want you to leave," she whispered. "Even if you're coming back. I… I don't want our routine to change. I d-don't want to worry about…" She stopped, choking on her own words, as Alastor drew her into a hug.

Alastor didn't hug her. He just didn't. Too paranoid, too wounded both in mind and body. And yet he did, just now, his big arms just tight enough around her, so strong she could barely breathe and basked in the feeling. There. That was what her body needed so her mind felt safe. She let out a little sob and buried her face against his chest. She knew he wouldn't mind the snot; his battle robes had seen far worse.

"I don't want to either, lass. But duty calls. It always does. And what would I be without duty, eh? Just an old coot wasting away with no more fight in me. Couldn't even bear to look at you in such a poor state, let alone teach you. I go out there to be worthy, and you can't accept me unworthy. Never accept less than the best you can get, understand? That includes me but, most of all, it's about the way people treat you. You're gonna be six soon. You're gonna get more freedom to roam the castle, more time on your hands. Students might notice you."

"I-I have a friend now," she blurted out.

"Yes you do, but he can't be everywhere at once, and he'll have other friends. You'll have other friends too. It's not the friends you have to be worried about, though you should always keep your eyes open around them too. There are students in the castle who are already half-Dark, and I'm not only talking about the green and silver."

So, it was apparently time for that talk. That didn't surprise Anthea too much; in fact, she was quite happy that he didn't limit his sermon to Slytherins. She might be one, after all. She really wasn't sure. Out of the four Houses, three were quite obvious fits, and that was without taking into account the Sorting Hat's tendency to throw a wild card every now and again.

"I just… I'll miss you, sir."

"And I'll miss you too. Immensely so. But I'll be back, and you better be ready when I do because I ain't going easy on you, lass. I might even get friends to come for me when I'm away for too long."

"Friends?"

"Aye. Good students o' mine who are students no more. Ever heard of Auror Shacklebolt?"

She had, but she shook her head, eyes big and the shadow of a smile on her lips. She was aware he had played her like he would a piano or a fiddle, but she didn't mind too much. When he distracted her, she could almost ignore the crushing sorrow that filled her at the idea of him leaving.

"Well, Shacklebolt is a damn good Auror, lass. I told him about you already in passing and he wants to meet you. Now, we both know the Aurory isn't anywhere in your future, you're too independent for that, but you still need to learn good defence, aye?"

She nodded. She didn't know yet what her future held, or if she even had a future, but she couldn't imagine herself working for the Ministry.

"Shacklebolt loves clever kids like you. He'll drown you in riddles and make you run and dodge and fight back all while solving them."

Anthea's pale green eyes started to gleam in interest and Alastor chuckled, still holding her close. It had to cost him, but he didn't let go and she was thankful for it. She needed it, needed his warmth, his scent, the slow beat of his heart and the vibrations in his chest when he spoke. She hugged him back and didn't let go, aware that, all too soon, she would have to.