In the Mood

Chapter Two


The girl hadn’t moved in nearly an hour and Alastor was beginning to worry. Perhaps she hit her head harder than he thought? He went over to her and was attempting to see if she had a lump on her head when she smacked his hands away.


“I’m fine,” she told him, sitting up. “Was in a bit of a panic is all.” Taking a deep breath she asked, “Do you by chance know Albus Dumbledore?”


“Of course I do,” he snapped. “Why?”


“I need to speak to him,” she said, standing up. “If there is anyone that knows how to correct this mistake, it’s him.”


“He’s over in Romania,” he told her, watching her sitting down hard again. “But he should be back soon. That’s if he can get past the muggle war.”


“World War II,” she whispered.


“If you say,” he sneered. “Bloody idiots are what I call them.”


“So you would stand aside watching as your friends, family, and neighbors get pulled out of their houses and being sent to death camps?” she asked him.


“Death camps?” he asked. “Who has those?”


“Some muggle Germans,” she told him. “They are sending the gays, the handicapped, prisoners of war, gypsies, but mostly the Jews into these camps. It would be no better than a wizard wanting to kill off muggle born witches and wizards.” She took a breath and let it out. “They very well may be fools, but guess what? Some of them are actually fighting for a good reason.”


Moody agreed, but added, “More times than not the people involved think they are in the right and fighting the good fight for an excellent reason, Missy.”


“My name is Hermione,” she muttered.


“Is that right, Missy?” he said coolly. “I might call you that one day.” He paused. “Do we know each other in the future?”


He stood up and was about to hand over her wand, but pulled it back and asked, “What code do I live by?”


She rolled her eyes. “Please tell me you’re joking.”


“That I am not,” he said, pulling back the wand further.


“Constant vigilance!” she exclaimed. “Now give me back my wand!”


He leaned over until they were nose to nose. “That is no way to ask politely.” Alastor paused as he used the handle of her wand to bop her on the nose as he said, “Missy.”


“Can I please have my wand back?” she asked in what would have been a pleasant voice if she hadn’t have said it through gritted teeth.


He shook his head no and was about to taunt her again when he suddenly pulled out his coin. Alastor let out a curse, handed Hermione her wand, and pulled her off of the bed.


“You’re coming with me, Missy,” he ordered her. “We have ourselves a murder.”


***


Alastor had gotten fed up with her lagging behind and so clamped a hand on her neck. This proved more difficult than he first thought as the amount of shear volume of her hair made it hard to find her neck, never mind hold. But once he had a hold of it, he wasn’t letting go.


Hermione tried breaking free on several occasions, but his grip was very firm, as she would be able to attest to later.


“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “It’s not like I have many places I can go, you know?”


He didn’t say anything, but pulled her a little closer once they arrived at Diagon Alley. It was the smell of death that had Hermione shrinking and moving all the closer to Alastor.


“You are going to have to buck up, missy,” he told her. “We’re going in to see a murder. It’s never clean or pretty.”


“Never said it was,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’ll just stay…”


He pulled her back. “Come along, girl. Time is a wasting.”


Several of the other aurors pointed to them, more than a few of them finding it funny. One man in particular said it was more than likely the only way Alastor could keep a woman. Once they were in the darkened alley, they made their way over to a body slumped in the alley.


“Malfoy?” she whispered, seeing the nearly white blond hair.


“You know him, Missy?”


“It’s difficult not to know of the Malfoy family,” she said to him. “A family of prats, but well known prats.”


“Very true,” he muttered. “Potter! Tell me what happened.”


The junior auror came over with notes in hand. It struck Hermione just how much he looked like Harry. When the young man saw her watching him, he smiled and blushed.


“Uh, he was found just a little after the hour, sir,” he told him. “It’s being speculated that it was a duel and that he lost.”


Hermione looked to the walls around the body. Next she looked at the ground. “It wasn’t a duel,” she said quietly. “There was just one hit, the killing hit that got him in the chest. Where are the missed shots? Where is the residue from the different charms? No, it was a straight kill.” She looked into Moody’s eyes. “An execution.”


He nodded slowly. “You might be right at that, Missy.”


“My name is Hermione,” she muttered. “And I know I’m right.”


Alastor nearly laughed out loud at her snotty tone. As it was he was smiling which made the other aurors there wonder just what the woman with Moody had done to make him act so unlike he was normally.


He pulled Hermione closer to himself, purring against her ear, “You just might be useful to have around.”


“Oh thank you,” she said dryly. “Just what I needed—someone to justify my existence.”


This only had him laughing against her ear softly. The feel of his hot, moist breath nearly had shivers going down her spine. Think, Hermione, she told herself. The man is old enough to be your grandfather! Yes but that was then and now he is a young virile man, the rational side of her had to point out. Just then there was another chuckle coming from a different auror passing by them.


She dropped down, sweeping the man’s legs out from under him. Hermione was back on her feet in the next instant and pressing her foot to the man’s throat.


“I’m not in a good mood,” she said coolly. “I suggest you take your humor elsewhere.”


Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. Alastor grabbed her neck again, pulling her sharply over to her, muttering, “Nice move, but don’t use it on my people again.”


“I won’t,” she told him. “If you let go of my neck, I might not even hurt you.”


He snorted, but let go of her neck just the same. Hermione pulled out her wand and did an inspection of the total area of the attack. She stopped and looked around where the body was. Seeing it in her minds eye, she tried to think of a situation in which a Malfoy, someone who would know better than to trust another living person, would be caught unawares.


“What are you thinking about so hard?” Alastor asked her, as he walked over to join her.


“He was hit full on in the chest. He wasn’t turning, nothing. The man was facing his attacker.”


He nodded. “I figured as much.”


Hermione looked over to him. “Given who he is, do you think we have half of the wizarding population to consider as suspects?”


His brow arched. “We? You, Missy, are not an auror. I can tell as much.” He frowned. “What exactly are you?”


She swallowed thickly. “I’m a solicitor.”


His eyes narrowed at her.


“I work towards the ethical treatment of all magical creatures,” she told him.


That had his eyes going a little wider. “I see.”


Hermione chuckled. “My friends Harry and Ron get the very same look when I tell them about work. Not to worry, I won’t spout out platitudes or get up on my soapbox.”


Just then there was a brisk wind that had her shivering and pulling her jacket tighter. Alastor stepped closer to her, taking off his jacket and putting it on her shoulders.


Tucking her hair behind her ears, he said, “We best get you back to the house. You’re not dressed for this weather. Come along, Missy.”


“What about the work?” she asked, burying her face beneath the jacket as her nose was starting to get numb.


“They can collect evidence,” he told her, wrapping a strong arm around her waist. “You’ve had a very long day, Missy. To home.”


Once back to the house, she handed the jacket back over to Alastor. He watched as Hermione curled up like a cat in front of the small fireplace in the sitting room. She was asleep in a matter of minutes, leaving him there to wonder what in the name of Merlin he was thinking by keeping the young lady there at all.


He should have sent her on her way as soon as he healed her. But no, he had kept her around like a stray pup! His eyes drifted back over to her. She was beautiful he thought absently, and strong and…stop! She could be a trap, he warned himself. A trap? The girl was too honest by half, he thought, as he went over to his desk. Whatever the case he needed help and the lass was correct in one regard. Dumbledore would in deed know what to do.