It was colder than what she was used to.

Muiri was wrapped up in her thick coat as she watched the country side go by. Perceptive blue eyes, the only thing that could be seen of her face, flickered as she took in blooming flowers and trees. She was passing the time by trying to quietly name them in her head and what animal might like to make its home there or what was more likely to come back the next year. It had been fun at first, but she was starting to get a little stressed. Too many transfers onto too many trains from her small area to London. She felt a pang in her chest as an image of the place she called home for her whole life tried to form behind her eyes. With a deep breath and a hum, Muiri forced the image to transform into one of the sea. Dark lashes fluttered to touch her cheek as she pictured the sound of the waves crashing on shore, making sea foam break upon gray rocks, before taking herself under the warm water. Dark, quiet, timeless…a perfect image that helped her slip off onto sleep.

The last stretch…and she'd finally meet her ata.

XXX

"I don't know, Molly," Moody tried his hardest not to snap at her,"I don't have pictures."

"How can you not have at least one picture of your daughter," she asked shrilly.

"Security," he grunted, as he dodged past a man trying to run pass,"In case anything happened to me, I wanted to make sure nothing could link them. Letters only that opened by a coded word, different owl every time, and signed with names only we three knew."

Molly found herself slowing and casting a worried look at her husband. Such lengths they went through! Was the poor girl going to be just as paranoid as her father? Would she be able to make friends with her children? However, the Matriarch brushed it off as steely determination took hold. No child deserved to be left alone, even if they had parents. Siofra-Muireann would need kids her age to grow up mentally healthy and she will have friends. Molly would make sure of it.

XXX

The train came to a slow stop with a loud hiss of steam.

The dark haired witch stayed still for a few moments, listening as the other passengers started moving about. It felt...different. When she'd first boarded and waved goodbye to all her friends who turned out, she felt numb. A little sad as everyone grew smaller and smaller, but overall she felt nothing as she seated herself on the train to take her away. Now she felt something. A small, but paralyzing pinprick of fear. If she moved, if she got off this train...all this would be real. Her mother's death...how she died...

Muiri swallowed back the nausea that built up in her throat. It was such a...good thing. A beloved thing they took and twisted into something she couldn't bear to look at anymore. Something happy childhood memories had been built on! What if she made more and they were ripped away from her? What if she couldn't make any? What if she and her ata didn't get along and he sent her back? She didn't want to go back to that house! She...she realized she was panicking when her body started to heat up. She needed to breathe. Once more she shut her eyes, willing the well of emotions back down and held her breath. One...two...three... and she blew out. Instead of the sea, she saw of droplets of paint falling on a hot and buzzing canvas. Each breath she took was a brush stroke, covering the canvas until she was looking at a wall of calming blue. She finally unfurled from the seat, gathering her bearings before her belongings.

Luggage? One check.

Pets? One still lounging happily across her shoulders and one packed in their crate. Two checks.

Daggers? Hidden well with a disillusioned charm in the hip holsters just under her jeans. Another double check.

She was ready. She'd been waiting for this, almost looking forward to it if the circumstances had been different. Muiri paused in the doorway as she took in King's Cross. The little area she'd been raised in hadn't been big, but it wasn't tiny either...at least in her opinion. Something told her she might need to rethink that because there were more people just here at the train station than in her whole town! She felt the fear and panic once more creep up on her, but they weren't potent enough this time to stop her as she took her first tentative step off of the train.

XXX

For the first time in an extremely long time, Alastor Mad Eye Moody felt fear creep up on him.

As soon as the train had pulled up he had his eye scanning through all of the compartments until he stopped on an unmoving figure. He stared at them hard, unable to make out any facial features because they were turned away from him. It took a good 5 minutes before they finally stood and turned to gather their things. Moody felt his heart stall. He had been strict with letters. No floo because they could find out where it was connected. No pictures just in case someone became compromised. Now...he really wish he had been prepared. His wife hadn't been joking in her letters when she said he'd spot her in an instant. Like Harry Potter, she looked liked she had stepped out of a picture of her parent's school days. From the gentle waves of dark hair, to the small almost childlike fingers, to...

Alastor Moody was suddenly terrified as he watched the young woman pause before stepping off onto the station. His wife had been killed by Death Eaters...and now his daughter who hadn't laid eyes on in a decade plus was coming to live with him.

Aside from the glasses, she was the spitting image of his deceased wife.

Arthur stepped up beside him and followed where he was staring.

"Merlin's beard," he said. Molly looked as well and suddenly felt it should have come as no surprise who Alastor Moody would take as a wife. She had met the woman more than once and knew she could go toe to toe with Alastor when the need arose. She glanced at the man, realizing he still hadn't moved to meet her, and gently touched his elbow. He jerked from the unexpected contact and, though he didn't turn, she knew his magical eye was trained on her. She waved a hand, a gentle movement to encourage him to go to her.

Alastor turned both eyes back on his daughter as she started to move, going towards a column just a few feet ahead of them and disappearing almost completely around it. A nice defensive position that kept her back mostly covered except for her shoulder and a bit of her head. Moody paled at such critical areas exposed and found himself moving without thinking towards her. However, he stopped again when he'd gotten close enough. His eyes dropped to her hips to find two daggers that she was rubbing her thumbs against in a nervous gesture. He felt a grim sort of satisfaction in the knowledge that she knew how to use something at such close range. He was hesitating again, not sure how to really address her. He tried forming her name but it felt foreign and odd to try. He'd never even really written it down except for her birth certificate. The only really name he'd known her by was...

"Sparrow."