Despite the man's perfectly ordinary eyes and a nose that was still intact, Zayn recognized him immediately.
The long, weathered staff, the rhythmic thump-thump of his uneven steps—there was no mistaking it.
Alastor Moody.
"I'm a student at Hogwarts!" Zayn shouted quickly.
He raised both hands and stepped slowly out from behind the armchair.
Moody didn't lower his wand.
His voice rasped like gravel: "Throw me your wand. Or I'll take it from you."
Zayn hesitated a moment under that magical eye, then slowly turned his wand around and tossed it toward Moody's feet.
"Incarcerous!"
A thick rope shot from mid-air and bound Zayn like a python, pinning his arms to his sides.
"Hey—I already gave up my wand!"
Zayn remained still, his voice a mixture of exasperation and surrender.
He had no intention of resisting. He'd be a fool to try and duel Alastor Moody wandless and trussed up like a turkey.
Moody ignored the protest. After confirming that Zayn wasn't making any sudden moves, he turned and freed the MacKinnon family with a wave of his wand.
Then he pointed his wand at Mr. MacKinnon's chest and muttered, "Rennervate."
The man twitched feebly.
Mrs. MacKinnon and Marlene both gasped, hands flying to their mouths.
Mr. MacKinnon's swollen eyelids fluttered open. He blinked, confused—then his eyes widened in terror. Only when he saw his wife and daughter kneeling beside him did he breathe out in relief.
Mrs. MacKinnon helped him onto a crooked brass bed.
"What the bloody hell happened, MacKinnon?" Moody demanded. "I came as soon as I got your signal."
"A woman flagged us down—said she needed help…" Mr. MacKinnon's voice trembled. "Mrs. Coppett—no. It was McNair. Polyjuice. He was disguised as an old woman."
"I saw his grey hair shortening—he was getting taller. Then he hit me with a spell."
"What did they want from you?" Moody pressed. "Who stopped the bus?"
"I don't know," Mr. MacKinnon muttered.
"It was Avery," Zayn said from behind clenched teeth. "A Death Eater. He tried to make me kill Marlene."
"Severus!" Marlene finally noticed him. Her voice cracked. "He saved me!"
Zayn shifted awkwardly. "I just… didn't kill you."
Moody's head snapped around. He pointed toward Zayn.
"You mean him?"
When Marlene nodded, Moody limped over to Avery's corpse, pulled off the Death Eater's mask, and surveyed the deep wound at his throat.
Then he turned back toward Zayn, frowning deeply.
"He saved you?"
"Yes!" Marlene insisted. "The Death Eater ordered him to cast a curse—but he didn't!"
Moody bent down, retrieved Zayn's wand, and shuffled forward.
He studied Zayn for a long moment, then—wordlessly—unbound him.
"Here. Take it."
His voice had softened slightly. He extended the wand.
"Sorry. I can't afford to take chances."
"I understand," Zayn said, pocketing the wand. "Constant vigilance."
He rubbed his sore arms and muttered, "What now?"
"We leave," Moody said flatly, gazing out into the howling dark.
He rummaged in his heavy cloak, produced a curved hip flask, uncorked it, and took a long drink.
Zayn narrowed his eyes, watching. Then, without thinking, he asked, "Can I have a sip?"
"Don't drink from the mouth!" Moody barked, slapping the flask into his hands.
"You've got some nerve, boy."
"Ah…"
Zayn pretended to fumble. He let a few drops spill across the back of his hand—just enough.
"Never mind," he said. "I was kidding."
"Enough."
Moody snatched the flask back, banged his staff twice on the floorboards, and shouted, "Driver still alive? We're heading to Hogsmeade."
"Ernie got hit first," Zayn answered. "Thrown out the window."
"I'll check."
Moody stumped off into the storm outside.
Zayn watched him disappear into the rain—and a dangerous thought twisted in his mind.
McNair had seen his face. Heard his name.
Even if he was sent to Azkaban, what if one day Voldemort came back? Released all his followers?
What then?
What would happen to him—and to Eileen?
Zayn quietly pulled out his wand.
He stepped toward McNair's still body, lying motionless in the aisle.
"Sectumsempra," he whispered.
Spfff—
Mr. MacKinnon turned at the faint sound.
"What are you doing?! Petrificus Totalus!"
Zayn's wand flew from his hand with a sharp clack.
He dropped like stone, arms and legs snapping rigid, falling hard to the floor.
"What in Merlin's name—?"
Moody reentered, helping a sodden Ernie through the door. He froze mid-step.
"What just happened?"
"This boy—he attacked McNair!" Mr. MacKinnon shouted, kneeling beside the wounded Death Eater, wand aimed at the gash. "Episkey! Vulnera Sanentur! …Nothing's working."
"Let me."
Moody pushed past, tried his own spells—but the wound remained. Black magic pulsed beneath the skin.
He turned to look down at Zayn, who lay frozen at his feet.
"This was dark work," Moody muttered. "Leave him here for now."
He turned to Ernie.
"Can you drive?"
Ernie didn't respond.
He was soaked, pale, shaking uncontrollably.
"...Todd…" he croaked, almost inaudibly. "Todd… oh… oh no…"
His voice cracked.
"Todd… What do I do? It's Stan's birthday today… He just turned one…"
Wind screamed through the broken windows. Rain lashed the bus walls.
And Ernie sobbed uncontrollably, curled over in grief.