Yeah I stole, never got caught

[ocularlunacy.livejournal.com]

*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.*

Comments

[mugglesdowhat.livejournal.com]

*As they step into the manor, Arthur fails spectacularly at keeping the glee from his face. He looks around, not remotely surprised by the pale stone and rich carpets and grey-eyed portraits going back centuries - and he's less surprised by the sterility of the place. It's fine, it's worthy of a museum - but there's no warmth at all. He thinks all the more fondly of the Burrow in comparison - well done, Molly.

Absolutely chipper, he draws his own wand, shrugging.*

I'm game for however you lot want to do it. I just want to see his face.

[treefeller.livejournal.com]

*Gideon's wand is out, but his posture is relaxed, open. He's anticipating a less-than-warm welcome, but the imposing home and the imposing family it's owned by are blessings, in a way: booby-traps or curse-wielding grandmothers are not a strong possibility, not when there's face to be (presumably) saved.

He fails to completely keep a lid on his grin, and his voice is low, sounding absolutely nothing like a rebuke.*

Now, now, Arthur. We're at work.

[mugglesdowhat.livejournal.com]

Yes, we are.

*His agreement comes with a bright smile at Gideon; he knows this is just as personally vindicating for him, too, for Molly, and he's glad he's here. (Fabian's absence, on the other hand, is probably a good thing, as fond as Arthur is of him; never mind that he's still tied up with werewolf mess, he's also far too likely to get angry and fly off the handle. Gid's better suited to this.)*

Two upstairs, two downstairs, I suppose?

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

*A flicker of worry flashes in her eyes, but she hides it quickly enough. "This" was clearly going to be a visit of a distinctly unpleasant variety, and the easiest way to give Lucius time to conceal the more... interesting artefacts was to provide a distraction.*

Hurry.

*Shifting Draco to her other hip, Narcissa leaves the study, heels clicking evenly on the marbled floors as she reaches the winding stair leading to the foyer. Her voice is clear and cold over her son's happy chatter, easily reaching the motley crew milling about the entrance to her home, looking untidy. And in one particular case, incredibly unwelcome.*

Gentlemen. To what do we own the pleasure?

[ocularlunacy.livejournal.com]

*Moody doesn't look at all gleeful to be here in this overly polished mansion, but it's there behind his near-perpetual grimace. He squints up at Narcissa but Lucius is nowhere near her, of course. His voice booms around the entrance, wasting no time.*

We're here by the Ministry's authority, Mrs. Malfoy, and we're going to need to speak with both you and your husband right away so why don't you bring him out.

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

*The manor is sprawling but it's more stone and glass than woodwork; sound carries. Lucius hears the summons - called like a dog in his own home, what have things come to - and swears under his breath as he runs through the extensive mental list of things he doesn't want the Ministry to find. It takes another few moments to secure the rest of what's in the study, and that's all he can do; there's no time for the rest of the house, not without looking too suspicious.

He joins Narcissa without too much pause, pale gaze flicking from man to man. Moody - there's no surprise, and he wishes now he hadn't baited him. But the other three are personally offensive where Moody is just irritating. Sirius Black does not exist so far as this household is concerned, and so it's terribly rude of him to be standing in the foyer. The Prewett twin - whichever one it is, Lucius has never bothered to tell the difference between them - might have been alright were it not for the Muggle sympathies. And the Order. And being an Auror. The Prewetts as a whole are acceptable, just not that particular knot of them.

And then, worst of all - Lucius wants to spit curses, he wants to hex him on sight, but he restrains himself and merely raises his chin a fraction, looking down his nose at them, and keeps his voice coolly offended.*

Weasley. Having a holiday, are we? Seeing what an actual house looks like?

[mugglesdowhat.livejournal.com]

*Normally this would be enough to provoke Arthur, but he just grins up at Malfoy and gestures at the papers Moody has.*

Won't work today, Malfoy. We've got warrants.

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

What do you mean, you've got 'warrants'?

*Lucius knows perfectly well what he means, but he's not going to just let them tromp about his house without making them work for it.*

[ocularlunacy.livejournal.com]

*For effect, Moody gives the paper a little shake to wave hello.*

We're going to need you to stay down here and not interfere while we search the premises.

[fleasaremurder.livejournal.com]

*Sirius isn't interested in any of this sort of jockeying and gloating at the moment, and he looks to Moody.*

I'd prefer the upstairs, if that's all right with the rest of you.

*Without waiting for any sort of response or any sort of partner to join him, he heads for the staircase they've come down, giving Lucius and Narcissa a wide berth.*

[treefeller.livejournal.com]

*Gideon is still smiling pleasantly up at Malfoy and his wife--the best way, he's found, to handle this sort of people. His hands aren't quite in his pockets--his wand is out, for starters--but everything about the way he's standing is essentially unconcerned, thoroughly unintimidated. He shrugs.*

Ground floor, then? Alastor, Arthur?

[ocularlunacy.livejournal.com]

*Moody slaps the warrant onto a small delicate little table for the Malfoy's perusal and heads off toward the centre of the house.*

Yeah. And someone go with Black.

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

*Unable to hide her distaste as Sirius pushes past them, Narcissa levels a look of loathing that would shrivel organs at Moody, then turns on her heel and follows her traitorous cousin upstairs. As far as she is concerned, he only asked Lucius to stay downstairs, and the mere fact that Sirius is in her house is practically criminal, let alone the idea that he'll be actively searching through it.

Her heels click decisively on the stairs as she ascends, irritation audible in every step, Draco curiously silent in her arms.*

[fleasaremurder.livejournal.com]

*He can hear her coming, of course, and Sirius is not foolish enough to think that she's coming to give him tea.

When she enters the parlor he's begun tossing, he doesn't look up, just adjusts the sensitivity on his Dark Detector--the entire house seems to be setting it off--and sweeps it slowly and methodically past a series of cabinets. One drawer seems to crackling particularly and Sirius doesn't want to talk to her, but a trapped drawer for Dark artifacts wouldn't suprise him in the least, so he speaks to her stiffly and formally.*

I'll need you to open this.

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

*She watches with practised impassiveness as Sirius fusses with his Dark Detector, the ancient wards on the manor causing it to read things it otherwise wouldn't. Shifting her son to her other hip, Narcissa's icy gaze settles on one of the unfortunate shames of the Black family.*

You can't open it yourself?

[fleasaremurder.livejournal.com]

*He grits his teeth for a minute, but getting something you want out of Narcissa has never been easy for Sirius. He settles for the politest tone he can muster--it's as if he's reciting from the Auror procedure handbook. It's safer, anyway, than letting himself off the very tight leash he's got himself on now.*

It's setting off the Detector. It's best to let the owner of a house open any locked drawers that set off a detector.

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

Is that so?

*Narcissa's eyes widen in false interest, then she smiles with poisoned sweetness.*

Draco's not walking yet; there's no need to lock drawers that little fingers might reach. Is there, darling boy?

*Her son chooses that moment to chime in with a "bah!"*

[fleasaremurder.livejournal.com]

*At the sound, he finally looks 'round to Draco and Sirius' mouth curls into frown of distaste. He loves Harry very much, but babies in general are not a thing he generally understands or likes, and Draco is a baby who just so happens to be the spitting image of the smug Death Eater downstairs.*

If you're refusing to open the drawer, I'll just open it and we'll have to put you down as uncooperative.

*It's an empty enough threat--Lucius has plenty of connections to get out of any repercussions--but Sirius is trying very very hard to stay one hundred percent procedure, and the threat is in the book, and her very presence with the baby, much less her uncooperative nature and the glare she's giving him, are pushing every last button he has.*

[aprettyconceit.livejournal.com]

I had no idea your stubbornness extended to wilful misunderstanding. I've just informed you we've no need to lock the drawers; if you're incapable of opening them, that's no reflection on me.

*The icily pleasant smile remains, since she's not hindering him in any way.*

[treefeller.livejournal.com]

*Gideon follows, a half-step behind Moody, Dark Detector extended. As they split up to cover opposite ends of what appears to be a drawing room--why the Malfoys needed a special room just for drawing Gideon will never know, Molly gets by beautifully with just a living room and a kitchen--

But the device responds--more than responds, the thing is suddenly going haywire--and the little smile falls off his face.*

What d'you think, Alastor?

[ocularlunacy.livejournal.com]

I think with all the hints he's dropped over the year, Malfoy and his lot probably have more than we could confiscate without opening up a new storage facility.

Don't waste your time on anything commonplace, he'd be waltzing out of this with nothing more than a warning, I think he's got something big hidden somewhere in this place...

[treefeller.livejournal.com]

Understood.

*He nods, but the way the Detector is lunging like a dowsing rod is a bit worrying, as if it's responding to the drawing room itself more than any of its cupboards or specific parts. But Alastor knows what he's talking about--the man's been on the force for practically a dragon's age--so Gideon simply follows him a little deeper into the house.*

[ocularlunacy.livejournal.com]

Don't set that down anywhere, either. If we find anything worth bringing to court we need to have proof we were directed to finding it fairly.

*Like most of the old Pureblood estates, the Malfoys have so many rooms in their house they could house the entire Order and all their families just in one wing, including a bedroom each for Molly and Arthur's growing number of kids. Normally raids don't take more than two men, but eyeing the hallway before going inside the drawing room, tonight's backup is definitely a necessity.*

Well, right up on the walls, the smug bastard. ...There are plenty of illegals but lots of those could potentially be defended by the damn heritage laws. Allowing banned items to stay with original owners just because their grandfathers made them and they promise not to use them. Useless. What about inside that cupboard?

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

*Impotently furious, Lucius follows - Moody said stay 'downstairs', not stay on the landing, and he has no intention of letting people paw through his house without his presence.*

They are all clearly and legally defended by the heritage laws, Moody, and they've been in the family longer than yours has even been in existence. If you break anything I'll see to it personally that it comes directly out of your salaries.

*He's trying, very hard, not to seem protective of any area in particular. The cupboard under question houses some potions and tonics that would potentially be difficult to explain, but drawing attention to that fact is not helpful. Anyway the most...sensitive...items are under the floor, and as long as they don't pick up on that - well. Damages can be mitigated. As long as they don't pick up on that.*

[treefeller.livejournal.com]

*Gideon extends the Detector to the cupboard in question, and it responds--but it's still acting just a little oddly, pulling to and fro at his hand in a way that reminds him briefly and bizarrely of Cutler, the cocker spaniel he and Fabian and Molly had growing up.

He looks up at Malfoy with a carefully professional smile. Instead of my big sister could wipe the floor with you and your wife both even expecting as she is, he settles for what he should say, as polite as it ought to be and not a fraction more.*

Would you open the cupboard, please?