Vagary • Charlie Weasley

・ Chapter One ・

After being adopted by her god father, Pihla found herself living in Alastor Moody's apartment alongside him. The first few years, Pihla hardly spoke a word. Trauma, fear and loss had silenced the girl, and so, the two's interactions started and ended with sitting nearby, acknowledging each other with a nod.

Often, when Alastor sat in his study and worked through the tiring piles of paperwork that came with working with the Ministry, Pihla would join him. She'd stay in her fox form, curled up on the seat beside him or on his lap. Moody never spoke or made a sound to distress her, however, as time progressed, he'd mutter under his breath or speak to himself, and even speak to Pihla as though she were listening, asking her questions over controversial matters. 

As she grew, Pihla showed a keen interest in cooking. She took up the position of household cook, spending days nose-deep in recipe books to construct her own unique meals. Despite Alastor's many talents in his field of work, he showed none when it came to cooking. And so, whenever Pihla knocked on his study door with a bowl or plate of some new concoction, he'd readily welcome the surprise and offer his best critique of the dish. It would make Pihla giggle and ultimately, strengthen their father-daughter relationship.

There were times when Pihla would cook late at night, startled awake from a nightmare and Alastor would sit nearby on the breakfast island, glass of whiskey in hand following a strenuous shift. 

They'd talk softly into the night, a small lit light casting shadows over them. Alastor would tell tales of when he worked with Camilla, would remind Pihla of her bravery and how she so often reminded him of her. Pihla enjoyed those nights - of a flickering warmth, soup shared between the two, where she felt somewhat whole. She'd fall asleep against him, enraptured by stories until she lost herself in her imagination. Alastor would carry her to her room afterwards - a small space full of various recipe books, throw rugs and potted plants - and tuck her into bed. 

A warmhearted feeling flooded his chest during their time together; the idea that she was like a daughter to him. He cared for the girl immensely - would readily protect her with his life. The similarities to her mother were stark - the brown hair, deep eyes, cheeky grin, it all reminded him of his late friend. 

As he tucked the girl into bed, no longer the six year old he'd first adopted - now at the age of sixteen and with her whole life ahead of her - he couldn't help the thought that he was grateful to have Pihla in his life. That he was lucky to father such a strong girl who'd endured the hardships of a life too harsh. He switched her light off and bid her a goodnight, receiving a sleepy smile and mumble in return.

*

It was Alastor's birthday.

Pihla stood in the kitchen, apron tied around her waist, tongs in hand as she flipped the meat on the stove. Despite the day's occasion, the man had been called into work - an update for an ongoing mission. The memory of a grumpy Alastor mumbling to himself as he left the apartment brought a smile to Pihla's face.

She'd woken early enough to send him off with a steaming cup of coffee, the bitter kind he seemed to enjoy so much. He'd given an appreciative nod, half out the door, blond hair unkept. Pihla hoped he would arrive in time to eat while the food was still hot. Reheating it was never the same.

She cleaned as she finished up her cooking. During her holidays and breaks from Hogwarts, she liked to keep herself busy. The apartment wasn't big enough that it needed constant attention and cleaning, but with the kitchen being the area most in use, there was always an area left to be wiped down.