"What A Year It's Been"
by Christine Anderson
aka Lilly Malfoy

For Alastor Moody, it has been a year like no other. He has seen and done things this year that, for as long as he has lived, he would never have imagined might happen in his own life. Such things happened to others, to those who were not Alastor Moody, with Alastor Moody's past, to those who did not have his burdens or his scars.

But this year has broken all of the rules.

He'd sworn, after what happened three years ago, that he would never go back to Hogwarts. But he hadn't counted on Dumbledore's determination, or the old man's simple manipulation. He had not counted on the ways in which Dumbledore would persuade him. In the end he had gone, dreading the flood of memories he knew that place would awaken, far more than he wished anyone to know. And those memories had come, but Moody had found himself able to face them, in the end, and to begin to put them to rest where they belonged.

And so he stayed, and he taught. He taught and he recalled old pain, the losses of so many he had taught years ago, in the first war. He was determined he would not lose any of these, but he knew, despite that resolve, that it would happen. There were too many, and they were too young, too determined to fight, too unprepared. He has taught them as best he can, but he cannot teach them everything, can't teach them enough, or in time...

He's proud of a few of them- how well they've learned, and how quickly. Blaise, Draco, Susan... and, of course, Penelope. The Slytherin boys had surprised him, as had Susan- the boys with their willingness to learn from a battered old Gryffindor, Susan with how strongly she had begun to come into her power.

But none of them had surprised him more than Penelope.

She had been someone he had known mostly in passing until the day she had come back to Hogwarts to see him, and he had been stunned when she had touched him. Stunned not only by the fact that she had done it, but also by how she had done it- not hesitantly or with fear, but slowly, deliberately and with great tenderness.

He had not been touched that way in more years than she had been alive, and until the day she came to him, he had no hope of ever knowing such touch again. Since then it has seemed to him that he has been waiting all the years of her life, for this woman. It is as if he has been waiting for her to come into his world and fill it with light and joy and laughter.

She is a whirlwind, a force of nature, and with one look she had captured his heart forever. With one touch she had turned his life upside down, forever chasing away his loneliness.

She looks at him as if she has always known him, known him in a way and to a depth that no one ever has. And he looks at her in wonder, in amazement. Stunned, still, that a woman like Penelope Clearwater could have fallen in love with him. She comforts and challenges him, takes his breath away and drives him mad with desire. She inspires him and at times frustrates him greatly, and he cannot imagine his life without her. She is so vibrant, so strong; not just a witch, but an enchantress, not only an Auror, but one blessed with the gifts of the truest of them. And she is, incredibly, his.

He wonders if he will ever feel worthy of her, but so long as she wishes to stay with him, he is never letting go. He will love her and her alone for all the days that are left to him. He will love her and teach her as she has asked him to, and he will be proud to stand and fight beside her,

He can't help but wonder, with her by his side, where tomorrow will lead him- where it will lead them.