Feast of Saint Valentine Aftermath Ⅴ

Within the simply furnished chamber, Alastor Moody and Druella Black sit in silence for a minute or two after the departure of Ragnok. Leaning back into his seat, Alastor feels exhausted. Healing had always taken a chunk out of him. Not that had ever stopped him.

Pressing lips into a thin line, Alastor roughly asks, "How many are dead?"

A flicker of sadness crosses Druella's face. "Over half a dozen Aurors and even more among those in attendance of the Rowle ball."

"Anyone of importance?"

"Stephen Flint," Druella slowly said seeing Alastor take in a sharp breath. "The Fawley couple also perished in the attack and Livius Rowle, among others."

"Flint is-," Alastor roughly rumbled, "-was a good man. He'll sorely be missed."

"The funeral already took place earlier this afternoon," Druella admitted. "His wife, Halina is inconsolable, and his children are no better."

"And Barty (Crouch Sr.)?"

"Barty was not much better," Druella answered with a sigh. "Barty for all his rivalry with Flint greatly admired Stephen Flint. He shed no tears for Flint's demise, but his loss was palpable."

Alastor's lips twitched for a moment, before growing somber. "And what of the Fawley children?"

"Their Great-Uncle Adelmar Fawley accepted the guardianship of the children," Druella replied with an approving expression. "If not for Adelmar's defect, he would have been the Fawley Head of House and not been passed over for his younger brother."

"You admire him?" Alastor pointedly arched his brow at his Ella.

"I had the pleasure of meeting him when I was still an unwed maiden," Druella fondly recalled. "He was the scholarly sort with a sharp mind. Although more often than not, he would be lost in the pursuit of knowledge, he was always genuinely kind and attentive gentlemen."

The sparks of jealousy within Alastor's heart fizzle out with great relief at Durella's response. Coughing to cover his embarrassment, he changes the subject. "I find it impossible to believe that Livius Rowle is dead. Is the Ministry of Magic certain?

"The Ministry of Magic formally announced that Livius Rowle died defending his home," Druella plainly answered. "I doubt the Ministry of Magic would lie on such a delicate subject. On the other hand, his daughter, Euphemia rumor has that she has fled the country, but no portkey's have been found. Although there have been whispers that she has already secretively been interviewed by Urquhart himself and has been found innocent but remains in hiding for fear of repercussion."

Alastor furrows his brow knowingly. The Dark Lord did not care for traitors. But if Livius Rowle had planned to turncoat, then his daughter too was considered a traitor. Still, where could Euphemia Rowle be hiding that the Dark Lord had not easily located the pureblood witch? The muggle realm? No! That was the final resort a pureblood would resort to, purebloods usually preferred death before hiding away in the muggle realm.

Confounded by the tricky puzzle, the Scottish Auror went silent until Druella broke the pensive silence. "Alastor," she said drawing Moody's attention back to her somber face.

"Promise me that you won't be so reckless in battle," Druella pleaded. "I shan't be foolish enough to believe you will never be in battle. It is impossible with the political climate and as the Senior Commanding Officer of the Auror Corps. But I beseech to not duel on your own as you did." Her voice broke as she pressed her trembling lips together.

"If Auror Dawlish had not returned," Druella shudders suppressing welling up emotions that moistened her eyes. "I fear that you would have failed to return to me."

Guilt and shame flash across the rugged face of Alastor Moody. Not one for grand romantic gestures, his rugged, calloused hands clasp Druella's delicate, satin hands. "I can't outright make such a promise, but I promise I shan't be caught unawares again my Ella," he solemnly vowed.

The two of them gazed into each other's eyes and begin to instinctively lean closer toward each other when the door slammed open. The two purebloods startle openly in embarrassment and hastily move away at nearly being caught in such an indecorous position. Druella's ivory cheeks flush bright pink, while Alastor's ruddy cheeks turn a darker shade.

The dark, slanted eyes of Ragnok sparkle for a moment, before becoming composed. The younger goblin pretends he didn't see anything and sets a locked vault box before the wizard. "The two requested items are found within, Auror Moody," Ragnok clearly said. "Will you please confirm that the contents of the box are correct and intact?"

Slanting the box towards himself and away from Druella's view, Alastor opens the vault box and confirms the content inside. "It is correct," he briskly responded.

"In that case, I will take my leave-."

"Wait," Alastor boldly interrupted the young goblin. "I have one further request to make of Gringotts. A few minutes, please."

"Very well," Ragnok responded and silently retreated to a corner of the room to give the wizard some space.

Reaching carefully into the confines of the vault box, Alastor pulls out a device with a round, electric-blue eye that swiveled about. Curious, Druella moves to lean closer before letting out a gasp as Alastor roughly removes the black eyepatch from his right eye. Druella barely manages to suppress a gasp but is unable to stop herself from wholly flinching at the sight of the horrible wound.

Without any hesitation, Alastor clamps on the device and winces in pain, before letting out a sigh. The round, electric blue eye swivels about able to rotate 360 degrees. Abruptly, Alastor's vision expands beyond the normal vision, but he can see through the wooden door and further down the hallway of Gringotts. He makes an awed sound of amazement. His father had told him that his great-great-great uncle had the magical eye forged when he lost his left eye while serving in the Auror Corps.

Alastor's lips twitch faintly already knowing that his whirling about eye would be sure to earn him a new nickname. He could already guess at some such as "Mad-eye Moody." He had the irritating feeling that the nickname would stick like glue.

Shaking away such tedious thoughts, Alastor returns his gaze to Druella, before hurriedly glancing away. Although he couldn't see through Druella's clothes, he had been able to spot a few Dark objects on her body such as a knife strapped to her inner thigh. Feeling his mouth become rather dry, he tugs at his collar miserably failing to cool his flaming face.

So, he looked at his women to have a bit of a dangerous spark to them. Who could blame him? He was an Auror for cripes sake! He lived for the thrill of the moment!

Finally able to collect himself, Alastor sees Druella send a questioning glance at him. "It's a magical eye that belonged to my great-great-great uncle," he briefly explained. "I'll be able to see out of my right side again."

"How wonderful," Druella breathed in delight, not at all perturbed by the swiveling electric blue eye. Considering that she had seen and grown up with far worse things, a swiveling eye was nothing to be afraid of. In her books, it wouldn't even be considered a dark artifact.

Feeling his mouth become even drier, Alastor reaches into the vault box for the second item. Carefully cradling the precious object, he lets out a grunt as his knees pop as he slides down onto his knees. Druella looks greatly alarmed and reaches over to help Alastor back to his seat. However, Alastor shakes her away refusing her aid. He wasn't much for romantic gestures, but he wished to convey the depths of his sincerity and feeling for his Ella.

Concerned Druella presses her lips together until Alastor opens his hand to reveal a gleaming betrothal ring. "Druella Black," Alastor rasped with nerves, "I almost died, and at the end of my tether I could only think of you. I won't waste another minute. My Ella, will you grant me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Yes, yes," Druella said as she threw herself at Alastor in an uncharacteristic emotional gesture. Maybe, it was foolish of her to say yes again and risk repeating the same mistake twice. Yet she deeply cared for Alastor far more than she ever had for Cygnus (Black). And unlike the marriage in her youth, she was a confident full-grown witch and wouldn't be pressured by her family and peers to accept her would-be suitor.

The couple happily shares a passionate kiss until a VERY loud cough interrupts them. All of a sudden, they recall they have a witness to their emotional outburst. Druella flushes in embarrassment but is unable to hide her happiness as Alastor slides the wedding ring with the Moody family crest onto her index finger.

With a pop of his knees, Alastor grunts as he climbs back to his feet. Turning towards the young goblin, he says, "We'd like to make this official, if Gringotts will provide a wedding official that will be greatly appreciated. For a fee, of course."

"Naturally," Ragnok responded unable to hide a spreading grin on his face. It wasn't every day that such a passionate drama was witnessed at Gringotts. Moreover, considering the near elopement of the widow, Druella Black, and the Auror Alastor Moody. It was sure to send shockwaves through wizarding society. He was certain that the Daily Prophet would be eager to be the first to share the news. Naturally for a fee, of course, no goblin ever worked for free.