Alastor Moody

As September 1st steadily drew closer Sirsa instructed Dawn to pack clothing for the twins. However, after a loud, vivid debate with Rowan, it was tactfully decreed that only pants would be packed instead of skirts. Afterward, Severus rather curious would ask for the reason for Rowan's stubborn refusal of skirts.

"You do realize there are countless staircases at Hogwarts," Rowan flatly pointed out. "What's to stop a pervert from looking up my uniform skirt?"

After which, Severus recounted said remark to their grandfather, who immediately requested that Sirsa desists in her futile attempts to make Rowan change her mind. Disregarding the fact that Sirsa had already done so, Sirsa did not appreciate Reginald's tone of voice and gave him a stern earful. Later that evening, Reginald ended up sleeping in one of the guest rooms for the night.

With three days left until their departure for Hogwarts, an unexpected guest showed up at the front door of Prince Manor, Auror Alastor Moody. Sirsa and Georgine Prince were quite pleased by the surprise visit, but before they could properly chat with Auror Moody over a cup of tea Reginald promptly showed up to interrupt them. "Auror Moody, if you would follow me," Reginald courteously requested as Sirsa and Georgine called out, their reluctant goodbyes to the Scottish Auror.

Alastor Moody is a middle-aged Scottish wizard of average height. At this time, he still confidently walks forward without a limping gait. His wavy brown hair reaches the edge of his collar. Not used to wearing such a high collar, he fidgets pulling at his collar. A the moment, the only scar on Alastor's face is on the faint on the edge of his cheek. His robust face is somewhat ruggedly handsome in its own way.

"Thank you for that, Prince," Moody gratefully said in his native Scottish accent. "But what is this all about Prince? We are not familiar enough to be on visiting terms."

Reginald halts in front of the study and gestures inside. "If you would do me the courtesy of stepping inside, Auror Moody."

Suspicious Alastor Moody subtly reaches for his wand and warily enters the study. The study appears to be initially empty when the door locks behind him. Years' worth of instincts came into play as Moody's flicked his wrist holster and his wand appeared in his hand.

"Please have a seat, Auror Moody," Rowan graciously said as she gestured for Alastor to take the seat across from her.

Upon closer look, Moody blinks in surprise at finding an eleven-year-old female child sitting demurely before him. "I will not ask again, Auror Moody," she said gesturing to the empty chair across from the small table.

"Is this some sort of rare form of jest?" Moody grumbled loosening his collar with a sigh of relief. He slumps into the offered chair and warily eyes the lass. "So, is this a morbid curiosity about an Auror's career?"

"Humor me, if you will, but please cast a muting spell?" Rowan calmly requested pouring Auror Moody a cup of earl gray tea.

Moody narrows his eyes in age-old caution but proceeds to cast the spell. "What is this about, lass?" The grizzly Auror impatiently asked.

Rowan doesn't immediately respond carefully handing Moody a cup of steaming tea. She moves the platter of tea snacks closer to Moody. "My question is rather simple and one that only you are capable of answering. Has the wizard known as the Dark Lord begun to move?"

Moody reevaluated the polite lass before him. "The dark wizard is barely on the Ministry of Magic's radar." It was just only a few days ago that an informant had brought the news that there was something odd about a dark wizard calling himself, the Dark Lord. "I would rather know how it is that a child is purveyed to such information?"

"What about Professor Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix?" Rowan further probed ignoring the initial question.

Moody frowns at being ignored. "There have always been talks about a secret order should a new evil arise. But what would a tiny sprite like you possibly know about all that?"

Seeing the impatience of Auror Moody, Rowan leans back into her chair. "It's not quite as simple as that, Auror Moody. What if I told you that the dark wizard presently known as the Dark Lord will one day be known as the evil and most powerful wizard of all time?"

Moody froze jarring his teacup causing a bit to spill into the tea saucer. "Out with it then. What do you want child?"

"Hypothetically, Auror Moody, I shall propose a question for you," Rowan explained. "If it was you, and you foresaw such a terrible future, what would you do to halt it in its gruesome path?"

"A seer?" Moody barked.

"A mild gift of sight," Rowan replied, neither lying nor being honest.

"A farseer then," Moody quickly concluded. "If what you speak is true, why me? Why trust a stranger you've never met? Surely, your grandfather is far more approachable in this regard."

"You have skills that I require and that only you can provide Auror Moody," Rowan bluntly answered.

Moody searches the lasses face but finds no lies there. "I was afraid as much," he grumbled before straightening his back. He wasn't one to take things laying down. "Alright, where do I start?"

"The Ministry of Magic itself will eventually become corrupted including the Department of Mysteries," Rowan flatly said causing Moody to choke. "Be careful of who you place your trust in Moody. One of them is Augustus Rockwood, I believe you have worked with him in the past."

Moody's fists clenched at the revelation as Rowan continued. "Augustus Rockwood is a crucial pawn that brings about the fall of the Ministry of Magic. Can I trust you, Moody, to eliminate Rockwood at all costs?"

Moody curses under his breath pouring taking a gulp of his hotel tea. "Is there anyone else that bears watching?" He demanded to know. "Of course, I can't trust your words at face value, child, not without concrete proof."

"Perfectly understandable," Rowan approvingly agreed. "There are others, but I won't share them for now either. I also need concrete proof that you can be trusted, Auror Moody."

Seeing that they are at an impasse, Moody says, "Very well, continue with your child."

"The impact of the Dark Lord is beyond your imagination, Auror Moody," Rowan darkly explained. "It will be a global event. There will be an immeasurable number of deaths both among wizards and muggles. It will be the greatest massacre the world has ever seen."

Moody felt his mouth become dry at the description of the future. He empties the rest of his tea and loudly gulps it down. He wanted to believe this was nothing but a terrible prank in poor taste, yet he was unable to shake the severity of the child's words.

"These are the names that I can entrust to you now," Rowan said slipping a small parchment paper with a handful of lists. "They will prove my words, but I forewarn you, Moody. Should you ever have the chance do not hesitate to kill the Dark Lord! I have included his birth name; it is the last name on the list."

Moody memories the small letter, before burning it to ashes. The letter turns into ashes, soaking into the empty teacup. A muddy ashy thing remains that will not be able to be put together again.

"Supposing I can confirm any of this," Moody frankly said, "who else knows?"

"The only two people in this room," Rowan gravely replied. "Trust no one, Auror Moody. The future can still be changed, but there are no guarantees."

"If your words prove to be false, child," Moody slowly explained. "We will need to perform a Fidelilius Charm," he paused with a somber expression. "And should I learn that you played with me child, not even the reach of Reginald Prince will be enough to prevent my vengeance!"

"Agreed," Rowan knowingly said. It is far too early for Auror Moody to trust her and Rowan to trust Moody. Neither would she entrust the information of the Horcruxes to him. Moody was not a strong Occlumens and was no match for keeping such information from Albus Dumbledore or Tom Riddle. She would move step by step to build a foundation strong enough to even change fate.

Seeing that there is nothing more to speak of Moody rises to his feet. "It is late," he excused himself.

"Wait!" Rowan called out in warning causing Moody to halt. "The Dark Lord goes under another name, the name which he calls himself and by his followers. Do not use that name for any reason, Moody, it is cursed. He can sense any who speak the name which he granted unto himself."

Rowan pulled out a sliver of parchment and scribbled on it with a quill in the study. She holds the drying ink for Moody to read. Moody slowly nods his head, before Rowan shreds the sliver of parchment and dumps it into the teapot. The wet ink simply dissolved into the tea leaving only a soggy slip of parchment behind.

"Take care," Rowan called out to the departing Auror.

Moody briskly nods his head only once, before departing from the study. With ease, he makes his way out of the house and onto the grounds. Yet before he can apparate, he is surprised by Reginald Prince stealthily emerging from behind him. Embarrassed at being caught off-guard, he puts his wand away. "Can I help you, Prince?" He impatiently barked.

"My grandchildren are dear and precious to me, Auror Moody," Reginald coldly said. "Is there anything I should be aware of that might endanger the wellbeing of my grandchildren?"

"Not for now," Moody honestly answered, before turning his back on Reginald Prince. A dangerous move because the hairs on the back of Moody's neck never went down. Not until he reached the edge of the manor grounds and immediately apparated away.

Reginald stands there for some time a cold, pensive expression on his face. He returns back inside the manor and encounters his wife. "Has Alastor Moody already left?" Sirsa asked.

An old coldness from the past surrounds Reginald, who strides past his wife without so much as a word. "Merlin, what has gotten into that man?" Georgine commented on her brother's departing figure.

A sickly sense of apprehension fills Sirsa. She recognized that steely gait. It was a gait from the past, the one that Reginald had sworn to abandon. Shaken Siris accompanied Georgine to the nearest parlor and did not even complain when Georgine began to smoke despite being prohibited from doing so in the parlor.

The wind on the grounds began to blow colder with the arrival of Fall that announcing the eventual arrival of winter. The grounds shimmer and change for the first time in centuries. The manor's strongest wards flash and cover the entire grounds. It was a sign of things to come.