Feast of Saint Valentine Aftermath Ⅳ

Never one for having self-pity, Alastor brusquely removes his hand away from his empty right eye socket. Trying to focus on the present, the memories of the battle return causing Alastor to shout, "Dolohov!"

"Antonin Dolohov is dead," Druella gripped Alastor's hand tighter. "He was killed by John Dawlish."

"Dawlish?" Alastor swore in astonishment, before wincing in slight pain. "Did the healer leave anything for me to take?" He grimly asked.

"Yes," Druella reluctantly released Alastor's hand and reached for a blue corked bottle on the side of the bed.

"Thank you, my Ella," Alastor paused to show a lopsided smile causing Druella to blush at the pet name he had given her. Yet Druella is unable to suppress the fluttering within her. Embarrassed at her youthful reactions, she glances away attempting to hide her strong emotions.

Without a hint of shame, Alastor silently admires the blushing form of his Ella. She was far too beautiful for him. However, he considered himself the luckiest wizard for having been granted the honor of her tender affections.

Turning away, Alastor downed the entire potion in a single gulp with a wretched grimace. "You would think that after all these years, they could create a potion that didn't taste like piss."

"Language," Druella primly reprimanded the Scottish wizard, but before she can say another word, the white linen curtains are pulled back with a screechy halt revealing the tired, grumpy mediwizard Hippocrates Smethwyck.

"Auror Moody, you have been there for nearly three days," Healer Smethwyck briskly announced. "Your right eye cannot be regrown. The dark curse that Dolohov cast prevents any retroactive growth. The wound itself has been cauterized, there will be some lingering pain after, but that should be gone by the end of the week. I recommend taking lesser pain potions as needed. The remaining wounds gained in battle have more than sufficiently healed."

Healer Smethwyck paused to stare down his nose at the Scottish wizard. "However, having treated you before and considering my current patients, Auror Moody, you are in far better shape than the rest of the patients in the ward. Are there any questions?"

"Just one, when can I be released?" Alastor bluntly asked much to the chagrin of Druella.

"As I said before Auror Moody, you are in a far better condition than my patients," Healer Smethwyck drily said. "I will not see you out," before briskly moving away to tend to a far graver patient.

"Talk about no bedside manners," Alastor snickered.

Druella did not reply as she coldly eyed the back of the healer plotting stealthy revenge. No one spoke to HER ALASTOR like that! And she wouldn't kill the healer, but he would rue the day he crossed her path!

Feeling the potion removing most of his pain, Alastor rises to his feet to the apprehension of Druella. "You haven't yet fully recovered, you need your rest," she protested.

"You heard the healer," Alastor muttered as he grabbed his wand and transformed his pajamas into something suitable to leave in.

Druella's expression darkened as her icy blue eyes promised vengeance. Seeing that Alastor won't hear her out, she carefully offers her arm to offer support to the Scottish wizard. Perchance still feeling a bit tired, Alastor accepts the offered arm and in a leisurely manner to depart.

The two of them had not gone far in the hall, when Alastor asks, "How long have I been truly out?" It wasn't that he didn't trust Healer Smethwyck, but the mediwizard had always been sarcastic. It was sometime hard to tell what was true.

"The attack at Rowle manor occurred two nights ago," Druella rather disgruntled answered.

"I need to see to my Auror's," Alastor briskly said moving forward, before being forcefully held back by the pureblood witch.

"You will do no such thing," Druella frostily retorted. "Urquhart and Scrimgeour are properly leading the Auror Department. You heard, Healer Smethwyck, you need your proper rest."

Alastor looks mutinous for a moment, before muttering, "Alright," without too much protest. "Still, in that case, Gringotts is still open, I need to stop by to run an errand."

Druella appears rather seditious for a moment, before letting out an unhappy hmph! Sensing that his Ella is rather angry at him, Alastor tactfully remains silent for the remainder of the trip. It was Druella, who apparated them to Gringotts.

Diagon Alley was still busy at the late hour especially Knockturn Alley. The Gringotts loomed over them as they made their way up the steps and past the burnished bronze doors. The bank will shortly be closing and the goblin guards in scarlet and gold uniforms were especially alert. Foolish thieves always attempted to rob the goblins at a late hour believing that the goblins would be tired and weaker. The irony was that the guards were rotated every couple of hours. Not that many wizards or witches initially noticed, to begin with.

Within Gringottts, there are hundreds of goblins on high stools behind long counters, scribbling in ledgers, weighing coins on brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses, while at this late hour only a few goblins lead last-minute stragglers to their vaults. Alastor comes before an elderly goblin teller with the nameplate that reads, "Bogrod."

"Yes," the short, elderly wizard asked as he narrowed his dark, slanted eyes at the witch and wizard.

"I am here for the retrieval of two items from the Moody vaults," Alastor clearly responded.

"Vault key," Bogrod gestured with his long, crooked fingers.

"Ah yes," Alastor muttered reaching into his clothes to remove a mokeskin pouch that can only be opened by the owner. He slipped his head inside to remove the golden key before handing the vault to the goblin teller.

Bogrod wrinkles his pointy nose and intently studies the key until he is satisfied. However, before he can speak, Alastor interjects, "I am willing to pay a Gringotts fee for the retrieval of the items from my vault that are on the designated Gringotts list."

Instantly Bogrod dark, slanted eyes brighten. "Of course, of course, sir, please come right this way," the elderly goblin all but purred leading the two through a door and into a private room. "Someone will be along shortly," he responded before returning the golden key and departing from the room.

Druella wrinkled her nose at the nasty old goblin, before frowning at Alastor. "I could have gone and retrieved what you needed Alastor. There is no need to pay such treacherous creatures to do so."

"I do not feel that well, Ella," Alastor sheepishly admitted.

Druella worriedly places her hand against Alastor's forehead to feel it is slightly warm. "You should be in bed resting," she sternly chastised the Scottish wizard. "We will head straight home after this I will hear no words of protest, Alastor Moody, or so help me, I shall carry you bound from head to toe out of Gringotts!"

"Yes, Ma'am," Alastor chuckled with a thick Scottish brough causing Druella's ivory cheeks to burst into color. Folding her arms over her chest, the pureblood witch pointedly turns her back on the Scottish wizard. She would ignore him.

The door swings open drawing both of their attentions to a youthful goblin, elegantly dressed. "I am Ragnok," the young goblin greeted them in English. "How may Gringotts serve Auror Moody?"

"The registered list of family heirlooms with Gringotts," Alastor briskly pointed to the long rolled-up parchment held in the goblin's hand.

"Of course," Ragnok murmured bringing the rolled-up list to the wizard.

With a flick of Alastor's wand, the list unfurls. All purebloods made a limited list of valuables held in their vaults and left the list in the care of the goblins. Typically, the list consisted of family heirlooms, wills, deeds, and such items that if the list was ever discovered would not lead to immediate incarceration at Azkaban.

Reading with one eye is strange and unfamiliar to Alastor. It was a struggle and an alien sensation. Still, he was familiar with the Moody vaults and soon enough found what he required. Using the tip of his wand, he creates two small marks against two of the items on the list. "I request that Gringotts retrieve the two marked times from the Moody vault for the standard fee."

"It will be our pleasure, sir," Ragnok said with a bow, before retrieving the roll that instantly rolls up before them (via goblin magic). "We will return shortly," he said, before briskly moving away to retrieve the two requested items.

The funny thing about wizards is that only a few ever bother to read the clauses. Unless verbally mentioned, the "standard fee" comes with a clause that states that Gringotts may elect to charge interest in addition to the standard fee. Wizards always acting so arrogant and never bothering to look past their noses. As the Goblins often said in gobbledegook, "Maybe, wizards just need bigger noses."