Dear Moody,

How have has retirement been treating you? I'm still here at Hogwarts, keeping the grounds and sorts. I'm not sure you'd know, but Harry Potter, Lily and James Potter's boy, started up at Hogwarts this year. He's a right great lad. A leader like his father, kind like his mother. You remember he was raised by Lily's muggle relatives and, well, they don't seem to have ever told him much. When I went to fetch him in the summer before term started, he didn't even know he was a wizard, didn't even know how his parents died. Shameful, it is.

I'm writing to ask if you've got any photographs from those days, anything of Lily and James from the old days. I thought you might have some old pictures from back then. You see, I want to make Harry a photo album before term is up. He says those muggles don't have any pictures at all. Anything you could send would be much appreciated.

Thanks a bunch,

Hagrid

With a swift flick of his wand, Alastor unlocked the fourth lock of his trunk. With a heavy sigh, he sunk onto his good knee. He used his hands to direct his wooden leg into a more comfortable spot. The envelope was at the was at the very bottom, beneath several other sets of protection. A couple of charms. More locks. Another spell or three. With the last of the security measures undone, Alastor pulled the envelope out of the trunk. He hadn't kept many tangible artifacts from those days. Keeping too much in writing was a fool's mistake. Inside the envelope among scraps of paper-also charmed-existed what Alastor thought to be the only photographs from the Order. The entire group smiled up at him. Gingerly, he stood up, his knee cracking, and sat down at the side of his bed. How many of these people he hadn't seen in years; how many he would never see again. Alastor flipped through the small stack of photos. The one group shot that Frank Longbottom had insisted on. For when these are the days we tell our children about, Moody, the days when we conquered evil. Alastor snorted. Had they all been that naive, that optimistic, that certain? The rest of the few pictures were of smaller groups. Dumbledore and Elphias Doge smiling over cups of tea. Fabian and Gideon Prewett arm-in-arm with Benjy Fenwick. Lily and James sitting side-by-side on a couch, James's hand resting on her flat stomach. If Alastor remembered correctly, Lily was expecting, but not yet showing. Sirius Black had taken the photograph, joking the whole time. Peter Pettigrew had been sitting at the other end of the couch, smiling like the rest of them. With a growling sigh, Alastor set the photograph aside and retrieved a piece of parchment from his bedside cabinet.

Dear Hagrid,

Glad to hear you're still at Hogwarts. Retirement isn't the carriage clocks and relaxation everyone claims it be. You always need to keep an eye out, stay on your toes. Constant vigilance.

Anyway, I do have a few pictures from the old days. Lucky enough, I have one of Lily and James. It seems like yesterday those two were joining the fight, just as kids. It just proves that the battle is constant, that we always have to be on our guard and ready for when those scum sons of bitches try to do something again. I hope Harry is doing well at Hogwarts, staying on the right path.

The photograph's enclosed with the letter.

Sincerely,

Moody