Dumbledore awoke a moment later to see a fuzzy face in front of him. The
image cleared and he saw a bloody fuzzy face in front of him that turned out to
be Moody, now sporting a long gash down the side of his check. "Wod happen?" He
asked then frowned. That didn't come out in quite the way it should have. He
opened his mouth again to speak but got a mouthful of something salty instead.
He moved his hand towards his face but Moody stopped him. "Don't mess with it,
you've got a broken nose. Really, you're lucky. With the way you hit that tree,
I thought you'd have more than just that."
"Wod boud de glass?"
"The glass?" Moody glanced behind them, then frowned deeply. "Ah, yes, the
glass. Lucky for you I seem to have hit the glass first." His hand went up to
the gash on his face. "I'm afraid your hat got a bit ripped and, well, bloodied
in the process." He showed him the now green and red bowler hat. Dumbledore
stared at it for a moment, while wondering why Moody was showing him a hat while
there was blood everywhere and an unpleasant ache in his left shoulder. He
shrugged and moved over slightly to look at the horseless carriage and he
immediately wished he hadn't. It was a complete loss. Dumbledore has seen
broomsticks that looked more capable of flying after being burnt halfway to
ashes by a dragon than this car looked capable of driving. "Oh, no," he bled out
and Moody shook his head in sorrow. "I know. I think Mr. Harrington might not be
so thrilled to have it back now."
Dumbledore took out his wand. "We fiks dad." He waved it and said,
"Reparo!" Immediately, all the little glass shards zoomed back to where they
belonged in the glass pane. The very large dent in the front of the automobile,
on the other hand, remained exactly has it had been before: Dented, cracked, and
imbedded in the side of a tree.
"I think that only works on glass," Moody said helpfully and Dumbledore
gave him a cold look.
"We can'd leaf id here!"
Moody shrugged. "We could leave him some money. Do you have any muggle
money?" Dumbledore's irritation increased, compounded by the throbbing in his
nose.
"Yesh, I karry id around in my bag poget, jusd like yoor wand," he spit
out as ferociously as he could with a broken nose.
"All right, All right, just calm down. I just wondered. Oh well, he can
cash in some gold galleons I'm sure." He paused. "Er. Will we actually be
returning this car or just leaving it here?" They sat there for a moment,
staring at them and wondering exactly what the consequences would be were they
to merely leave the unsightly mess in the field. Moody ended their silent
reverie by throwing a couple of galleons onto the seat of the automobile. "We
may be wizards but I've heard of cases where muggles have killed with their bare
hands. I'm not carrying this contraption back to him and getting killed for it.
I doubt it can even drive." He then turned and kneeled down in front of
Dumbledore, his wand pointing towards him. Dumbledore got a very bad feeling.
"Wad'r you doink?"
"I'm going to fix your nose. You don't want to walk around with a broken
nose, do you?"
Even if Dumbledore had been feeling generous towards his friend at the
moment, he still would not have completely trusted Moody's healing skills. As it
was, he wasn't going to let him within ten feet of his nose. "No! No!" Dond
dough it!"
"Come on now, I've had basic field healing, I know how to repair a broken nose!"
"I dond care! I dake care of id meselp." Dumbledore climbed to his feet,
leaning heavily against Moody's shoulder, straightened up, and apparated home.
It had been a beautiful day, he thought, as he bandaged up his wounded
nose and sat down to drink the only thing in the world that could make him feel
better, a nice hot cup of tea, alternated with a nice tall mug of brandy. It had
been a beautiful day, in fact, right up to the point when he decided it would be
a good idea to test drive a muggle automobile. He sighed and looked at the clear
sky, heard the birds chirping outside of his window and felt the sun streaming
in through the window. He sighed again, set his beverages down on his table and
bent down to finish his research. It was a few years later before he realized
that Moody still had his hat.
image cleared and he saw a bloody fuzzy face in front of him that turned out to
be Moody, now sporting a long gash down the side of his check. "Wod happen?" He
asked then frowned. That didn't come out in quite the way it should have. He
opened his mouth again to speak but got a mouthful of something salty instead.
He moved his hand towards his face but Moody stopped him. "Don't mess with it,
you've got a broken nose. Really, you're lucky. With the way you hit that tree,
I thought you'd have more than just that."
"Wod boud de glass?"
"The glass?" Moody glanced behind them, then frowned deeply. "Ah, yes, the
glass. Lucky for you I seem to have hit the glass first." His hand went up to
the gash on his face. "I'm afraid your hat got a bit ripped and, well, bloodied
in the process." He showed him the now green and red bowler hat. Dumbledore
stared at it for a moment, while wondering why Moody was showing him a hat while
there was blood everywhere and an unpleasant ache in his left shoulder. He
shrugged and moved over slightly to look at the horseless carriage and he
immediately wished he hadn't. It was a complete loss. Dumbledore has seen
broomsticks that looked more capable of flying after being burnt halfway to
ashes by a dragon than this car looked capable of driving. "Oh, no," he bled out
and Moody shook his head in sorrow. "I know. I think Mr. Harrington might not be
so thrilled to have it back now."
Dumbledore took out his wand. "We fiks dad." He waved it and said,
"Reparo!" Immediately, all the little glass shards zoomed back to where they
belonged in the glass pane. The very large dent in the front of the automobile,
on the other hand, remained exactly has it had been before: Dented, cracked, and
imbedded in the side of a tree.
"I think that only works on glass," Moody said helpfully and Dumbledore
gave him a cold look.
"We can'd leaf id here!"
Moody shrugged. "We could leave him some money. Do you have any muggle
money?" Dumbledore's irritation increased, compounded by the throbbing in his
nose.
"Yesh, I karry id around in my bag poget, jusd like yoor wand," he spit
out as ferociously as he could with a broken nose.
"All right, All right, just calm down. I just wondered. Oh well, he can
cash in some gold galleons I'm sure." He paused. "Er. Will we actually be
returning this car or just leaving it here?" They sat there for a moment,
staring at them and wondering exactly what the consequences would be were they
to merely leave the unsightly mess in the field. Moody ended their silent
reverie by throwing a couple of galleons onto the seat of the automobile. "We
may be wizards but I've heard of cases where muggles have killed with their bare
hands. I'm not carrying this contraption back to him and getting killed for it.
I doubt it can even drive." He then turned and kneeled down in front of
Dumbledore, his wand pointing towards him. Dumbledore got a very bad feeling.
"Wad'r you doink?"
"I'm going to fix your nose. You don't want to walk around with a broken
nose, do you?"
Even if Dumbledore had been feeling generous towards his friend at the
moment, he still would not have completely trusted Moody's healing skills. As it
was, he wasn't going to let him within ten feet of his nose. "No! No!" Dond
dough it!"
"Come on now, I've had basic field healing, I know how to repair a broken nose!"
"I dond care! I dake care of id meselp." Dumbledore climbed to his feet,
leaning heavily against Moody's shoulder, straightened up, and apparated home.
It had been a beautiful day, he thought, as he bandaged up his wounded
nose and sat down to drink the only thing in the world that could make him feel
better, a nice hot cup of tea, alternated with a nice tall mug of brandy. It had
been a beautiful day, in fact, right up to the point when he decided it would be
a good idea to test drive a muggle automobile. He sighed and looked at the clear
sky, heard the birds chirping outside of his window and felt the sun streaming
in through the window. He sighed again, set his beverages down on his table and
bent down to finish his research. It was a few years later before he realized
that Moody still had his hat.