bait_backup | Yeah I stole, never got caught

*Though one of the Ministry's most seasoned and commended Aurors, and certainly the most respected man currently on the squad, most of Moody's days involve failure. For all the leads he follows, connections he makes, and arrests listed under his name, what sticks with him are the hints of smiles of people walking away due to lack of evidence and the word of his gut when he knows someone's guilty of something but it hasn't yet been revealed to him. Lucius Malfoy has been on a mental list of his for months, his foul political dealings and pathetic viewpoints so obvious but so unverifiable - he is of the people who Moody would do away with due process for, if it meant having a shot at him. The white mask is practically implied, the way the man behaves.

Fortunately, those kinds of people almost always tend to be the cause of their own downfall. It's all a matter of waiting long enough and keeping them under the radar, waiting for them to make a mistake, and Lucius is no exception to this statistic. Of course the Minister's less and less stringent requirements for perpetrating a raid have helped, but Moody finds he's content with that, and is ready to make the sweep of the Malfoy's absurdly lordly property worthwhile. Lucius' playground taunts may mean nothing individually, but when directed toward an Auror it eventually becomes irresponsible for his claims to go uninvestigated.

With the signed papers in hand, Moody and his small assembly have legal access to the grounds. The only thing that alerts the evening to their presence is the wild cry of a ghostly peacock as it darts across the lawn behind them just before he legs the knocker drop three heavy times.*

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

*Taking things a little more seriously at that, Arthur steps closer and looks over Sirius's shoulder at the other cameos. He glances back up at the baby in Narcissa's arms, wondering who would leave cursed cameos in a low drawer with a small child in the house. A little one that age, he must be crawling at least by now, and it's not long from crawling to reaching.*

You might look into child-proofing charms, you know.

*Sirius stands, puts the drawer back into the chest. It goes in a little lopsided; something probably did break somewhere in it and Sirius is no carpenter. Well, fine, it'll come out of his pay and they'll be a bit skint this month.

He mutters to Arthur in an undertone as he passes, heading for a china cabinet.*

Can't we get rid of her?

*Arthur follows, lowering his own voice as well. He knows better to bring it up, but he's mindful of the fact that these two shared a childhood, and probably more closely than did she and Gideon.*

Just keep focused, we'll be out of here in a jiff.

*If it's the same tone he uses to defuse the boys when they're upset, well. It seems appropriate.*

All right, all right.

*Sirius casts one final, loathing look over his shoulder to Narcissa, and then turns, scanning meticulously. Next is a bookshelf, and this time Sirius doesn't bother asking--he just undoes the wards with his wand, they're fairly obvious ones to protect something of value. They were everywhere back in that house, the one Sirius is trying very hard not to think of, and he's trying so hard not to think of it while passing the Detector past the row of books that he almost misses the needle spiking. But he swings his hand holding the device back around, closer to the spines this time, and the needle strains hard against the pin at the end of the scale. He narrows it to the shelf, then to the set of books, and then, as he's bringing it closer and closer to the edge of the three spines that seem to be setting it off--two enormous leatherbound tomes and one slim, battered volume--the needle snaps off entirely with a sad little ping.*

Arthur?

*Well. That's new. Eyebrows raised, Arthur joins him at the books. Nothing overtly sinister about them, but that, he knows too well, means nothing.

Carefully, he levitates all three off the shelf so as to better examine them in mid-air.*

I think, Madam Malfoy, we'll be needing these.

*While it dangles in the air, one of the large tomes gives a violent twitch, as if trying to shake off Arthur's spell. Neither of the other books really respond, but the cover to the thin, battered little book flaps open--and Sirius sees a name on the inside cover that stops his breath.

T. M. Riddle. Riddle. Lord Voldemort. From Regulus' research. Here.

Sirius acts without thinking--he leans forward with his own wand, separates the book that moved, and opens a purple Ministry sack to bag it up. Under his breath and turning his body away from Narcissa so the movement of his lips can't be seen, he mutters to Arthur.*

That little one can't go to the Ministry. We need it.

*She doesn't make out what Sirius says, but she does see the swift snagging of the battered volume.*

You are legally required to provide an inventory of everything you remove from the premises prior to your leaving. I do hope you won't be further jeopardising your position as Auror by flouting the rules in such a manner, Mister Black.

*He drops the bag and turns around fully.*

Oh, thanks ever so, Cissy, I'm so glad you're here to tell me how to do my own damn job.

You're so very welcome, Mister Black. It's the least I could do, since you were struggling so much earlier. Drawers are tricky things, aren't they?

Yeah I stole, never got caught

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject