Severus Snape called Alduin up to Hogwarts one afternoon in early February, and as soon as they cleared the gates, he said without preamble: "He is not being controlled. I checked repeatedly, to be absolutely certain, and the compulsion is not on him – nor any other I could find. I'm as certain as I can reasonably be that he is acting on his own accord. Or at least, if he's being forced, the pressure is not magical."

He didn't say what they both knew: that Moody was by far the least likely person to be bribed or threatened in any way. He was professional enough to let his own family die to save the mission, something hat was officially expected of all Aurors, but that in practice everyone knew most would struggle with.

Alduin had to admit he had not expected this...at all.

He had been so sure…

Was he truly becoming paranoid?

"So this is really all normal behaviour for Moody," he muttered under his breath. Truly, Dumbledore's choices were...baffling.

"He hadn't done anything as outrageous as the Imperius since," Snape pointed out. "At this point, anything truly beyond the pale that he does is bullying the Slytherin students."

Alduin did not comment on the hypocrisy of that – he had more important matters to consider, and anyway it wasn't like the bullying was not a problem just because Snape did the same to the Gryffindors. "I'd assumed Dumbledore had put a stop to it."

"I'm not so certain," Snape said doubtfully. "He clearly trusts the man fully – he completely dismissed my worries in that area, accusing me of being prejudiced because Moody didn't like me."

Snape, no doubt, was entirely prejudiced, but it spoke to the man's professionalism that he didn't let it colour his report of Moody's innocence at all. It was also telling that he could be professional in this, but never towards his students. The man really wasn't cut for teaching.

"That he didn't tell you doesn't mean he doesn't have his own private doubts," Alduin replied out loud, not willing to give up his theory entirely.

Snape gave him a look. "by this point, I know the difference between Dumbledore being secretive and being honesty dismissive. I've had enough practice with both."

Alduin had to concede the point. "Listen," he said, "that reminds me of something else I wished to ask. Dumbledore means to send you back, doesn't he?"

Snape didn't reply, which was an answer in itself.

"I know it's going to be hell for you no matter what," Alduin went on, "but I'd also some to know the casual way Dumbledore treats even his most important pieces, and...you should do whatever you can to make your position with him as secure as possible, as long as your own moral compass allows, and Dumbledore be damned."

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "sentiment? From you?"

Alduin shook his head. "Pragmatism. We need you in as good as position as possible to get valuable information, and any way you can improve your starting position can only help."

Snape considered him carefully. "I will give it some thought," he said then, non-committal, and Alduin gave a tight nod. They bid each other goodbye shortly after.

After Apparating back home, Alduin shut himself in his study, resisted the urge to pour himself a glass, and rubbed his temples. Snape would do what he saw fit, in the end, but he was much more worried about the part with Moody. He'd been so sure…

The approach of treating every anomaly around Harry as related had worked very well until now, but was he now bringing it too far? Was he grasping at straws? Would he have to second-guess his own plans, now, to interrogate every idea from all angles to make sure he was not reading too much into it, lest he turn into Moody himself?

He could really use a close co-conspirator now, to bounce ideas and worries off, but there was a reason no one really knew everything he himself knew – was that more paranoia? - and there was, in particular, a very good reason why Alexandra didn't know many details. It was part of their plan for making her and the children safe.

Still, he was beginning to feel he would need someone to take into hi full confidence…

To his absolute irritation, the image of Melania Doge flashed in his head, irrational as it was.

He'd kept in touch with her as she put together the new article about half-giants, and she hadn't lost any of her charm or wit. But now that matter was over, the article about to be published soon with almost all of his particular suggestions firmly rebuffed, and he would likely never see her again.

In fact, he was well aware that, for his own mental health, it would be best if h never saw her again.

So his brain, he told it firmly, could keep all these irrational ideas to itself. Alduin didn't have time for them, he had children to raise and a war to prepare for.

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"Harry, thank you so much for the books you recommended me!" Parvati gushed when they met up in the Entrance Hall a week after their Hogsmeade date "I've been reading the one about establishing the International Statute of Secrecy and it all makes so much more sense now!"

Harry gave her a surprised look. That particular book, he'd recommended mainly because it covered a topic they'd done this year in History, and so he thought it could come in handy for essays and exams – it had for him. He hadn't found the topic extra interesting. "Really?" He asked. "What exactly did you like so much about it?"

"Well," Parvati explained as they began to move, "it's just, the school book we have, it makes it seem like it was because of the witch burnings, right?"

"Right," Harry agreed.

"Well, that always seemed stupid to me, because the witch burnings were only happening in Europe, really, and it's an International Statute."

That had never even occurred to Harry. "You're right," he said, "it makes no sense."

"So, this book says it was made into an international thing because the European Muggles started to conquer the whole world, so they they brought their fear of witches with them, you know. And when the European wizards realized the Muggles weren't gonna stop any time soon, and that it wasn't enough to just warn people in whatever areas they've decided to head off to next, they just pushed for making this an international law."

Harry thought about that. He must have read that part, but it just hadn't struck him as very important, probably. It made sense, he supposed, only...some vague knowledge tugged at the back of his mind. "Weren't there some witch burnings in Africa, too?" He asked.

Parvati waved her hand. "Oh, yes, and a bunch of other places. But not everywhere, you know? I mean, from what my great-grandparents told me, it was never a thing in India." She grimaced a little. "Other burnings, maybe, but not of witches!"

Oh, right. That must have been why it struck Parvati as weirder than it had him. "So your great-grandparents used to live in India?" He asked.

"Yeah, and my grandmother – they moved during Grindewald, when Grandpa was like fifteen or something." She shrugged. "But from the other side, my mum only moved here to marry my dad."

Harry thought about that, about moving across half the world for someone you loved. He liked Parvati fine, but he couldn't exactly imagine moving to India for her. But it was different, he supposed, with someone you wanted to marry. "Was it a big change for her?" He wondered. "I mean, it seems like a pretty huge step."

"I guess it must have been," Parvati agreed, "but she doesn't really talk about it. I mean, she remembers Mumbai often, but she never says if it was hard for her to deal with such a huge change or not." She frowned. "I don't think I've ever asked, actually."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe it wasn't at all. I mean, I know absolutely nothing about India. Maybe living there is exactly like living here, so there were hardly any changes for her at all."

Parvati snorted. "Well," she said, "if nothing else, there'd be the weather."

That was a good point – it must be terrible to move in to the British cold from somewhere Harry imagined was warm and sunny, though really, he didn't have very particular ideas. "Have you been there?" He asked.

"We go regularly," she said with a nod, "to see my grandparents from my Mum's side. And, I mean, Mumbai's not that different. It's even more crowded than London, and hotter, obviously, but apart from that it's pretty similar. So maybe it wasn't that much of a change."

Harry thought about the huge change it was for him, just to move from the Dursleys to Travers Manor, and wondered if it was possible it would be less of a shock, moving across the world. But on the other hand...Alduin owned a private island in the Maldives, and apart from the weather, Harry didn't really think it would be all that different living there than living in the Manor. It would still be the lap of Travers luxury. He wondered if it was like that for Parvati's mum, but knew it was inappropriate to ask, and so he steered them towards the Come and Go Room instead, hoping it wouldn't be occupied. After all, it was the only reasonable place to on a date around Hogwarts.

Thankfully, it was free, and they slipped in, Harry looking curiously around to see what the Room had for them. It was a little different every time, and this time there was low light and a comfortable couch waiting. Harry flushed, a little, but it wasn't like he was about to protest.

It was strange to remember, now, that kissing Cho used to make him so uncomfortable. Certainly there was nothing at all uncomfortable about kissing Parvati, and as she curled in his arms on the couch and pressed her lips to his neck, Harry fought a shiver and wondered how long they had and if, perhaps, he would find the courage to slip a hand low enough to touch one of the breasts he could feel pressing against him. He had certainly dreamt of that often enough...

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Lucius paid a visit to the Travers Manor not long after Alduin's confidence in his instincts had been shaken, visage serious and grim. Alduin, after taking one look at him, took him to his study.

"What is it?" He asked.

Lucius hesitated for a moment. "You know he's coming back," he said then, without preamble.

"I do," Alduin confirmed.

"It's going to be soon," Lucius went on. "I need to be free from the Vow. You know that he's going to have plans against your ward, and you know that if I took part in them, I'd be breaking the Vow."

Alduin looked at him for a long moment in consideration. There was strong temptation to simply let him live with that, but for one, that would leave Lucius very little incentive not to kill him on the spot, and for another, they had actually worked together well for the past two years. He would come to regret losing Lucius as this strange kind of ally, he knew, no matter how morally repulsive the man could be. Not that there'd been particular evidence of that, lately, but Alduin was under no illusion it was a true change of heart instead of bidding his time.

But, as ever, he could not afford the luxury of a moral high ground. Lucius was likely to come in handy during the war.

"I won't free you from the Vow," he said in slow consideration, "but I will agree to amend it to simply state that you should always try to do your best to avoid plots against any of my family and to do your best to disrupt them when you find out about some that endanger our life or health, as long as doing so wouldn't endanger yours or your family's. Acceptable?"

Lucius looked away. "It would be," he said after a moment, "but there is a further problem. He will be able to read the Vow in my mind, and this-"

"Of course," Alduin realized. Riddle would simply make sure that any disrupting would endanger Lucius' life, always, and in fact would probably intentionally involve him in these plots just to see him squirm.

He considered the matter again. "All right then," he said, "I'll release you from being unable to harm Harry...and I'll swear Narcissa to it instead."

Lucius frowned. "Leave her out of it."

Alduin rolled his eyes. "She can take care of herself, and I'm sure she'd much prefer it to you dying. Discuss it with her."

Lucius seemed to consider whether murder wasn't an easier solution after all, but in the end, he nodded curtly and left. Alduin sighed. He didn't like this, he didn't like this at all, but what could he do? Lucius was right, leaving the Vow as it was was a death sentence.

The problem was, once again, his recent doubt in his instincts. Should he be more paranoid about Lucius? Less? He kenw the man would always act in his and his family's best interest, but how exactly he would evaluate that in all the uncertainties a war would inevitably bring...Alduin simply didn't know, and he was afraid to take a guess, now.

This, at least, he would be able to – indeed, should – discuss with Alexandra, given that she was deeply involved with communicating with Narcissa on everything Horcrux-related. Realising that was a relief, and Alduin's steps absently directed him to the nursery without any conscious thought. He wouldn't discuss the matter in front of the children – Wynn was far too old, now, to be certain he wouldn't try and repeat anything sensitive – but just seeing his wife and children would settle him a little, he knew.

It helped that Wynn was a little calmer, lately – not calm by any stretch of the imagination, but his temper tantrums were less uncontrolled and closer to conscious testing of boundaries, which was easier to handle for Alduin. Edric, too, seemed to be handing teething a bit better as he got older, the pain not seeming so overwhelming, perhaps. It was a good thing, too, as this pregnancy seemed to be treating Alexandra worse than the previous once, and even with anti-nausea potions, she often felt queasy much of the day. Today, too, he found her sitting in a comfortable chair while she watched the boys play, assisted by their personal elves, and sipping on a strong mint lemonade he knew helped her when she couldn't take any more of the potion.

He smiled at her as he came in and pressed her shoulder. "I see Rowan's treating you miserably again," he commented.

"If she is as temperamental after she's born as she is as an embryo, I'm certainly in for a few fun years," Alexandra muttered sourly.

"Baby making mama sick," Wynn announced from where he was waving two miniature toy brooms in the air – whether playing with them or trying to keep them from Edric was anyone's guess.

"Yes, she is," Alduin agreed, "but she's not doing it on purpose."

Wynn gave him a confused look.

"It's an accident," Alduin tried to clarify.

"A-ci-den?" Wynn repeated carefully. "Like me hit Wick?"

Given that Alduin had seen a few of those 'accidents', he was not entirely sure what to reply, and Alexandra burst out laughing at his expression, making Edric echo her without knowing why.

Yes, Alduin thought with a small smile, he definitely felt more settled. Everything, he'd come to realize, became clearer in the nursery – when,t hat was, one wasn't running on only three hours of sleep and both the children weren't crying at the same time.

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AN: It's roughly the same period of time Karkaroff was worried about the Mark, so it seemed appropriate Lucius would come now.