Author's note: Thank you to each and every one of my reviewers so far! It makes me ridiculously happy and a whole lot more motivated. It was pretty difficult to find the right words to write this chapter, but I think it was worth it.

Chapter Eleven

"What the hell are you doing back here?"

Mad-Eye Moody stood in the doorway, looking unusually tired and worn. "Well, I wasn't about to abandon my Aurors, was I?" he said, sounding emotionally drained, much to the trainees' surprise.

If it was possible, Kingsley's frowned deepened further. "I thought you were taking the day off. I did say that I would cover for you."

Moody sighed, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He suddenly looked decades older. "You thought wrong."

Kingsley made an exasperated noise. "Why can't you just put aside one day to remember her, Alastor? Is it really that hard?"

A disgusted look crossed Moody's face. He suddenly stood bolt upright, hand going to his robes for his wand. "Why can't I put aside one day to remember her? One day, Shacklebolt?" He drew his wand, gripping it so hard that his knuckles were white. "So this is the state of the world these days, is it? You put aside one single day to remember the fallen ones and then push them to the back of your mind for the other three hundred and sixty-four?

"There is not a single day that goes by that I don't think about what happened to her, Shacklebolt. I saw her murdered. Murdered, and there was not a thing I could do. I was helpless." He hesitated for a moment, but continued, fighting to keep his voice even. "My own sister died in my arms."

The group collectively held their breath. No-one made a sound, and the silence was agony. What kind of hell had their mentor gone through?

"Heather was nineteen when she was killed by Voldemort's Death Eaters. Cowards, the lot of them. They attacked her when she was unarmed. Defenceless." He paused for a moment, eyes glazed over, seemingly lost in memories. "There is not a day when I don't wish that I could have got there sooner. I should have been there to protect her."

Michael Caddock frowned. "That's really unfair," he said abruptly. "It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done. They probably would just have killed you, too."

"I would rather have died than hold my sister's dead body in my arms, Caddock," replied Moody icily. "Don't you even dare speak about things you know nothing about."

Tonks's eyes narrowed. "So that's it, then?" she demanded. "You think you should have died in your sister's place."

"Yes," replied Moody simply. "Why do you think I became an Auror, Tonks? I watched my sister die at the hands of Dark wizards. That day cemented in my mind the reasons for which I was training to be a Dark wizard catcher. I wanted to do everything in my power to prevent this happening to someone else.

"I don't believe for a second that people should just shove the memory of the fallen to the backs of their minds, letting it gather dust until they are forced to bring it out again. Those we've lost should be an integral part of our lives, because in the end, to be forgotten is worse than death."

By this time, Kingsley's face was ridden with guilt. "I – I'm sorry, Alastor," he said. "I shouldn't have been so insensitive."

Moody nodded his acknowledgement. "No harm done."

"Should I leave you to it, then?"

"Yes."

Kingsley gently shut the door behind him as he left. No-one quite knew what to say when Kingsley had left. For a moment, all they could do was stare in shock at their mentor.

"Her death will not be in vain." Everyone turned around to look at Ariadne in surprise as she spoke, her voice solemn. "That's why we're here, isn't it? To learn how to protect the world from Dark wizards. And that's exactly what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure that what happened to your sister doesn't happen to anyone else."

Everyone in the room nodded in agreement.

"And I reckon Heather would be pretty damn proud of her brother," said Tonks.

Alastor Moody couldn't help but think that this was better than any time he'd taken off work to commemorate his sister's death.

And in that moment, he could not have been more proud of his future Aurors.

Another author's note: This chapter is dedicated to all of the soldiers who have fallen while at war. Your sacrifices have not been forgotten.