"He cannot know who it was," grumped the old man. "Oh?" asked Moody. "As Ariana Dumbledore was killed by the Killing curse, are you saying you were casting Killing curses at the time... Albus?"
After another deep scowl it was a moment before Dumbledore snapped back, "It is not your place to question me, MisterMoody. You are no longer an auror."
"And, yet, I still retain auror instincts and the experience of being a Master Auror," Moody snapped back. "Your answer... or, rather, non-answer... tells me all I need to know."
Moody then stood back up and, reaching into his pocket, withdrew his Order medallion and tossed it down the length of the table.
"As someone who has cast an Unforgivable you should be in Azkaban, Albus," he stated. "You are a self-admitted criminal; and, as such, I will not abide being a Member of your Order any longer."
Then he spun about and stomped back out again.
Two others then stood and, without a word, tossed their own Order medallions on the table. One of them, Oliver Rivers, said, "He's right." And both walked out.
A third, who was in the Alley with them, then stood and said, "We attacked an unarmed man, Dumbledore. We fired stunners at him at the same time. Do you have any idea what that many stunners hitting a person at the same time does to them? It very likely kills them."
Professor Minerva McGonagall, who wasn't there for the attack but was there for the meeting, scowled and said, "If it was the same as four stunners hitting me close together back in June 1996, it'll have at least put him in hospital." "I did not sign up for this," the wizard continued. "I signed up to fight You-Know-Who, not someone who might... without any proof... be one of his Death Eaters." Then he, too, walked out.
Dumbledore could do nothing, but scowl at his back.
In a quiet voice, Neville asked, "Were you and Grindelwald friends, Headmaster?"
Dumbledore waved him off and said, "What happened almost a century ago is not your concern, my boy."
"Yes it is," Neville firmly disagreed.
Dumbledore finally looked to him and said, "You need to focus on your training, my boy. Your destiny still awaits you."
"Does it?" he asked back. "Or, have you been lying about that, too?" "Do not question me, Mister Longbottom," Dumbledore practically snarled.
"No," said Longbottom. "That's your answer for everything, isn't it, Headmaster? Every time someone asks you something you don't want to answer, you give back either a refusal to answer while claiming you're all-wise and knowing, or some... platitude that's also a slap-down."
"Mister Longbottom..." the old man warningly growled.
"No!" snapped Neville. "One of my trainers... my primary trainer, in fact... Moody, just walked out on you. And Professor Flitwick is far too busy with classes to pick up the slack! And you... you just keep blowing me off instead of actually providing me with any actual training, as you promised me and my grandmother you would do! "It's time you start answering questions and providing the combat training you promised, or I'm gone!
"That man took less than two seconds to put you down! And I was down less than a second later! If, whoever that was, could put all of us down that fast... then what is Voldemort going to do to me?!"
Then he got up and stormed from the room.
When Ron jumped to his feet and made to follow, Neville said, "Naff off, Weasley."
Ron stood there, shocked and wondering if he should hurry after his 'best mate', or sit again. He looked to Dumbledore to see if he'd tell him what to do.
Dumbledore, tense and gritting his teeth, just sat there feeling utterly impotent. He never said a word. By the time the two witches, the sales assistant and Luna were finished Harry would be getting a robe of forest green with black trim; a robe of black with bright green piping, of which the colour near perfectly matched his eyes, according to Luna; a third of deep deep red so dark that, in anything but bright light, looked like it actually was black; a fourth that was a proper set of professional duelling robes in black and dark grey that would take a week to make; and, of all things, a set of pure white robes and matching slippers, for which Luna refused to explain why. The second set, the black with green piping, would also have the Peverell and Potter crests stitched into the breast.
However, the robes weren't the only items of clothing purchased. He also came away with a pair each of black, red and green dragon-hide boots, and black wizarding 'slippers' for around the house. Other than the duelling robes, the rest would be ready by that evening. However, they said they'd be back in two days to pick the rest up.
Harry had already decided that, if the boots weren't as comfortable as the military combat boots he was currently wearing, he'd be buying more of what he was wearing out in the muggle world when he went out the next day to shop there.
He also, according to Luna, had to start magically forcing his hair to grow out and long. She'd also be purchasing for him Sleek-Ezy Hair Potion to use on it to get rid of the still-on-occasion 'bird's nest' that was its default. That was at least one thing he was happy to do.
Once finished, Luna said, "Ready to go, Love?"
"Definitely!" he firmly replied, relieved.
She smiled back before then hooking her right hand into his left elbow, as she'd been doing since he'd returned, and they walked to the door together.
"Into the muggle world or home?" she asked.
"Home," he replied. "We can save the muggle world for tomorrow."
Just as they stepped out the door, Luna leading this time considering how narrow the doorway was, Harry found his left arm at the bicep grasped from the side.
As he felt the pull back on his arm he instantly increased the spin while raising his right hand in a fist; ready to punch whoever it was in the face. He knew it wasn't Luna, because she was ahead of him.
However, as he drove the punch forward he had to throw it off to only lightly clip the woman, who'd grabbed him, in the ear on the way past. Then, as quickly as he could, he pulled the arm back.
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