[identity profile] ocularlunacy.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] bait_backup
*There is a precariousness in leadership, where the better and stronger one is the finer the line between absolute trust and absolute chaos becomes. Moody has steadfastly kept the same rank, the same position in his squad for nearly his entire career. The promotion offers don't even make it to his office anymore, so firm has his insistence been over the years that he doesn't want to become some trussed up ninny behind a desk. This stasis remains one of the leading factors in why Moody is still considered one of the team, rather than some fair-weather superior. No one wants someone on the field who thinks they're worth more than anyone else fighting alongside them, just because they get a bigger desk and more galleons in the bank per year.

He's worked hard for this comradeship in the workplace, but as times change so do leaders. The Order, he feels, as he marches out of the Ministry with news while a certain prisoner is being restrained downstairs, is the last place he wants to alienate himself with power, but the one place he must.

Much of war is not spent throwing hexes, but knowing when damage control it needed, when to take a night off from fighting and invest in keeping things stable for the future. Moody practices this with as much surly realism as he does a battle, delivering both messages of encouragement and orders in nearly indistinguishable tones. When he arrives at the Potter's that night, much too late to be visiting a house with an infant in it, it's not clear to anyone which this is meant to be. What is clear, is that what had begun as Dumbledore's moderately peaceful protest is now an organisation ready to suffer the greatest losses of this war without looking back.*

It's Moody, and I see your light on, open up.

Date: 2011-09-01 04:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scarletskirt.livejournal.com
*Lily has always believed that she has an uncanny ability to sense when things are, frankly, arse over tit in the universe. Well, in her universe. On the day of her grandmothers death, nearly four years ago now, Lily couldn't sleep. More recently, Lily couldn't manage to sleep the day of Clover's disappearance. And now, even after an exhausting day with Harry, a glass of wine, and staring at the steady rise and fall of James' chest, her eyelids aren't even attempting to flicker shut.

Her restlessness tingles in her bones, but the cold sensation of dread replaces it when she hears the knock, hears Moody's voice through the door of the flat.

This can't be good.

Lily makes to stand, running a hand through James' hair in the process.*

James, wake up. It's Moody.

*With each step she can feel the blood pump through her veins at uncomfortably sharp intervals. She opens the door and skips the niceties. Sirius has a penchant for asking "who died?" whenever these situations arise. It's a grim habit that Lily has never cared for, but she almost finds herself asking Moody the very same question.*

What happened? Oh God, what happened now?

Date: 2011-09-01 05:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] heightofcool.livejournal.com
*Shit.

James slides off the couch, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. Moody isn't the quite the last person he'd like to see on his doorstep at the moment, but he's high up on the list. He takes Lily's empty wine glass and refills it as he joins them at the door.*

'Evening, Moody.

*He offers Lily the wine glass.*

Date: 2011-09-01 06:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scarletskirt.livejournal.com
*She's going to be sick.*

Friend? What friend? I have lot's of friends.

Date: 2011-09-01 06:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] heightofcool.livejournal.com
Let's just get this out of the way, is anyone dead, or....?

Date: 2011-09-01 06:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scarletskirt.livejournal.com
*It's becoming more and more difficult to breathe.*

If he isn't yet? If he isn't what? Would you stop beating around the bloody—

Date: 2011-09-01 07:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scarletskirt.livejournal.com
I UNDERSTAND THAT HE'S BEING INTERROGATED, MOODY. I JUST...WELL CAN'T SOMETHING BE DONE ABOUT THIS? WHAT NOW? DOES HE HAVE A ONE WAY TICKET TO AZKABAN? WHAT? WHAT CAN I POSSIBLY DO ABOUT THIS?

*Lily doesn't mean to be rude, but she's scared and she needs details. As crooked as the Ministry's tactics are, she doesn't even want to fathom what on earth could be happening in the interrogation rooms.

Date: 2011-09-02 01:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] heightofcool.livejournal.com
*Even if James has always thought Snape belonged in Azkaban, especially after the St. Mungo's incident, he's unsettled by this news, and more so by Lily's reaction.*

Inside voices, Lily. We have sleeping infant in the other room.

Date: 2011-09-02 06:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scarletskirt.livejournal.com
*She gives him a look. It's a look he should be familiar with, since it's the look she offered him when he was still nothing more than an annoying prick constantly pestering her.*

INSIDE VOICES MY ARSE, JAMES.

MOODY, JUST...WHAT DO YOU THINK HAPPENED? PLEASE.

Date: 2011-09-08 06:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scarletskirt.livejournal.com
*Right now Lily doesn't give a fuck about covering up holes, or the Ministry snooping. By now it's old hat, and it won't be the first or the last time the Ministry has come around questioning her. First about Gudgeon, then regarding the wands...next they'll come around asking questions about what Snape said to her at eleven in the morning 18 July 1974.

Her breathing is shallow and she has to take a deep breath before completing her next sentence. It's something she figured she might say at some point, at least some variation of it. Yet the words feel thick and surreal on her tongue, and she can't even stand to look Moody in the eye. He doesn't care, and neither does James. Neither of them can be considered a source of comfort, so she wraps her arms around herself. She's hasn't felt this emotionally isolated in a long time. Her gaze is set on the floor.*

He's dead, isn't he? You think they've killed him.

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