The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix Part Three

They'll Have It All

Elphinstone Urquart and Albus Dumbledore apparated into the Ministry for Magic, carrying with them the bodies of Gideon and Fabian Prewett. Blood soaked the polished black marble of the Atrium floor.

Harry Underhill came running from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, his shoes loud against the floor, each footfall echoing off the high walls of the atrium. Far above, the glass ceiling showed that dawn was just rising. The atrium was empty now, but soon would be filled of people, bustling about their day.

The elevator dinged and from within it came Harold Minchum - the Minister for Magic himself - striding across the atrium and arriving mere seconds after Underhill had. Underhill was shaking his head, his face stony with carefully checked emotion as he stared, only half seeing through the shock and pain, at the bodies of the twins. Minchum barked orders for the guards to go and fetch the coronor and they hurried to heed. 

"Moody's out on a --" Underhill started, but Dumbledore interrupted.

"I sent a patronus to Alastor - he's on the way."

"What happened?" Minchum demanded.

"There was a fight," Dumbledore answered.

"Well I can see that there was a fight, Dumbledore, but what for, what's happened?"

"A girl was kidnapped by Death Eaters," Urquart supplied, "The twins responded."

"Fabian wasn't even on duty," argued Underhill.

"Yes but Gideon was and you know that you never see one without the other, Mr. Underhill," Dumbledore responded, his voice benign. 

Underhill glared at Dumbledore, his stomach twisting with anger at the tone of the older man's voice, and he turned to say something to Minchum but before he could there was a roar from the floos and Alastor Moody stormed out of one of the hearths, his wooden leg clunking as he walked as hurriedly as anyone had seen him do since he'd lost his limb. His expression was murderous as he walked, weighing heavily on his cane, both eyes fixed on the twins bodies.

Moody came to a stop two feet from them, staring.

Nobody dared to move and the silence got heavier and heavier the longer Moody stared at the bodies of the twins, his carved and grotesque face hard to read except for the stream of tears that poured forth from his real eye - the magical eye wasn't able to cry.

"They perished as heroes," said Dumbledore.

And in response, Mad-Eye Moody let out a roar of a broken lion, his voice echoing through the atrium with a resonating pain that everyone who heard it could feel deep in the hollow spaces between their bones.

When the sound finished, when Moody ran out of breath, he knelt clumsily, a motion that looked more like a fall to his one knee, the wood leg at an awkward angle, and he grabbed hold of the twin nearest to him, clutching the poor boy's head to his chest, and he burst out, "God damn you Prewett Two. God damn you! I specifically ordered you never to -- And YOU. YOU! Prewett One --"

"Al --" Urquart bent and placed a hand on Moody's shoulder.

Moody looked up at him. "Not another one, not another one --"

"I know Al," Urquart said.

Moody lay the body back down and he struggled to his feet with Underhill and Urquart's help. He looked at Minchum. "I want every god damn honor this Ministry has to offer bestowed on those boys," he growled, "I want every auror at the funeral. I want the god damn highest honorable respects. I want --"

"Alastor," Minchum cut him off, "They'll have it all. I swear it."

Moody's face was soaked with tears, and finally he broke, and Elphinstone Urquart grabbed hold of him and pulled Moody into his chest.