Severus Made His Way To The Infirmary At A Brisk Stride, Selwyn’s Blood Soaking Through His Robes And

Something wasn’t right, was Moody’s first thought. Something wasn’t right because he’d just vast a quick-healing charm and the blood wasn’t stopping. But, no time to think of that now. He needed to apparate out. If he didn’t they’d –

Two things happened at once. Blood dripdripdripped off Moody’s arms, down his chest, as he stumbled backward. A hand grabbed roughly for his shoulder and then they were gone, the dizziness and the nauseous lurch of an unprepared apparition taking him by surprise. If he’d been of any around mind right now, Alastor would have snapped at the younger wix about being splinched.

Instead, Alastor Moody came out of the apparition and stumbled into an unfamiliar house (not the estate, the woods were wrong and the landing area was different, much like where one could be stretched too thin, like jam across too much toast) in an unfamiliar place (sounds were different, the birds and the creatures outside sounding off like scuttling little things instead of great, gallumping beasts of wizards and witches at all hours of the day and night) and slumped against the wall. When he slides down it, unable to follow behind Snape for fear of falling, there’s a streak of crimson.

“Well. Can’t say ’M all that comfortable,” he rasps out, a shaky laugh, fingers curling unsuccessfully around his bleeding wounds. “Picked up a curse, it seems.”

Severus looked back at the other man’s words. Crimson red painted the wall and dripped a puddle onto the wooden floor. He strode back, knelt beside Moody, and examined the injury that caused the bleeding. A long, crisp line cut from Moody’s chest up to his shoulder. An upward stroke, thinning towards the end, like the tip of a sword. Severus’ lips pressed into a flat, displeased line. ‘ What luck, ’ said Severus. ‘ Don’t pass out before I’m done with you. ’ 

Then Severus began to sing. The counter to Sectumsempra was something he’d mulled over between books on healing and phoenix tears, the incantation lilting with a soft melody as he passed his wand over the injury once, then again, then a third time. The wounds knit themselves together imperfectly, leaving a long scar behind. The dim white light faded from the tip of his wand as the last syllable did. 

He pressed the back of his hand against Moody’s forehead to check his temperature. ‘ Alright, up, ’ said Severus, shifting the other’s arm around his shoulders and hauling him to his feet. Slowly he walked them towards the couch in the living room and laid him down. Severus unbuttoned and discarded his heavy cloak, folding up the sleeves of his shirt as he knelt beside the couch and turned his attention to Moody’s other injuries. ‘ How do you feel? Where else does it hurt? ’ He couldn’t dismiss the image from his mind of Moody standing like a wall against a barrage of curses and spells like he was somehow immune to them. It wasn’t a common sight on missions, at least not before Severus joined the Order and was presented with a range of ridiculous displays of selflessness that were entirely pointless and ill thought out. This was, by far, the most brazen, and the fact that it was on his own account made his stomach turn.

asphodelroot​:

Sausage rolls and fries were not enough to forestall the shocked look of betrayal she gave him. That had been her cherry! She needed those cherries—did he have any idea what sort of battle she had endured to secure them? Of course not, because Lily hadn’t told him. And she usually didn’t make more than a token fuss about food theft; Severus always needed more feeding, and if it required letting him feel like he was getting away with something via theft for it to happen, so be it.

Her cherries had never been intended to fall victim to that policy, but after a moment of hurt scowling, Lily let it go and focused on savouring the sole cherry left for her, tucked in the corner of her mouth. She didn’t have many close friends to start, and was on the wrong side of the majority of them; no matter how sacred her cherry had been, she wasn’t going to lose Severus over it. Not tonight.        (Never again.)

Finally swallowing her cherry, she fished out a bit of ice to munch on instead. “We came together. He’s definitely got some bugbears behind the ears tonight,” she shared. “Snappish, grumpy, probably should have stayed home but even more bullheaded and stubborn than usual. I told him to avoid alcohol tonight—no idea if he’ll actually listen to that bit of advice.” Despite that grim debrief, Lily was willing to call tonight not a disaster thus far. Nothing broken, no one thrown across the room. Far from the bloodbath Lily hadn’t been expecting but hadn’t ruled out as a possibility. “Will you be tweaking the brew again, for tomorrow night? Maybe some hawthorn bark to help him stay calm.”

Severus blinked at her scowling for a few moments after she let it go, then pushed the plate of sausage rolls closer to her. He’d clearly misread the room. She was more upset than he realized.

‘ He’s always agitated before the full moon, ’ Severus said again, this time reassuringly. ‘ You should’ve seen him last month. Absolutely insufferable — still no violent outbursts. With me trying. He can keep it together for a few more hours. ’ Or else he wouldn’t have come at all tonight … hopefully. Severus was banking on the assumption that at least one of the four buffoons of his childhood had enough sense to stay home when they needed to. Especially if said buffoon had been dealing with the same pre-moon mood swings for as long as they could remember.

Which was, put like that, a rather tall order.

He looked at Black again, then said to Lily with a straight face: ‘ I could keep Black occupied for the rest of the night if you’d prefer. ’ He and Black going at each other would at least not be shocking. They’ve been practically exchanging friendship bracelets the last few months, it would just be setting the world back to rights, if nothing else.

He hummed. ‘ The problem’s not keeping him calm, it’s keeping him present. Mentally. I’ve modified the brew to keep him aware and in control through the eclipse. The calm will come with that. ’ He paused, casting his mind back to the multitudes of equations and ideas he went through to get to a result worth testing. ‘ It should work. ’ But they don’t know that. They won’t until they test it.

@perniciouspotter​

Flashback. February 1984.

Severus rapped brisk and loud knuckles against the wooden door. In the last few years following graduation he’d expected to run into Potter again — neither of them made their allegiance a secret, especially not from each other. And they, sworn enemies from the moment they met to the very end, were set on a collision course and picking up speed. How could Severus not anticipate a crossing of paths?

Current circumstances were laughably different from what he’d anticipated before. Instead of the violent encounter he was itching to have, a clock ticking downwards in his mind counting towards this meeting, Severus shifted a bag of healing brews against his shoulder. Waiting almost politely at his enemy’s front door to be let in. With every intention to do the opposite of causing harm.

He nodded in greeting as the door clicked open. ‘ Potter, ’ he said in the least hostile tone he used since he was 11. ‘ You were informed of the reason for my visit? ’ Of course he was. It would be rather difficult if he wasn’t. But Severus had run the meeting in his mind several times over and this was the best he could come up with.

Severus blinked with a ‘who, me?’ look on their face. ‘ I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, ’ said the cat that ate the canary. ‘ You must be exhausted. Being dead for 5 years will do that to you. ’ They were both products of Slytherin House, where privacy was only as respected as the protections around it. If Black wanted to keep his thoughts to himself, well, with due diligence he certainly could.

Severus conjured a desk chair (wheels, armrests, and all) that they dragged closer to the young man before they sat down, legs crossed at the knee, and leaned back. The air shifted palpably in the room, Severus was no longer interrogating a potential threat, they were catching up with an old acquaintance. A corner of their lips lifted at being called contrary, only a little too pleased with themself. ‘ Just twelve, ’ they said, ‘ for now. ’ If Severus dared to dream of what they would do after the war, it was this: make new spells. And potions, and wards, and artifacts. One day they might outweigh the violent magic they’ve written into the world.

If Severus was taken aback by Black’s following confession — and a confession is what it was, quiet and honest, however else Black chose to frame it later — they didn’t show it. Black had stumbled through epiphanies of his own since Severus had last seen him, not unlike the ones Severus had worked through themself to get here. ‘ What a surprise, ’ said Severus, ‘ look who had a change of heart, now. It’s only been 5 years, Black, what happened to you? ’

Severus listened intently as Black spoke. They watched him without blinking as the words sank in. They remained carefully impassive, face empty of all emotion.

I found something out. Something that could be fatal to someone I swore to serve.

For one ferocious moment Severus wanted to pin Black down and empty his mind of all knowledge and memory, comb through his thoughts with tedious care, and pluck it’s secrets out one by one until they found what they were looking for. The moment passed. Reckless, Severus thought. Unlike most of the people they dealt with, Black knew of their Legilimency. A delicate hand was needed.

Severus hummed. ‘ Better late than never, I suppose. Only a few hundred died since your great discovery, but I’m sure you’ll carry their deaths with dignity, and such, and all. ’ They waved a hand to encompass the such and the all. Guilt over strangers did not factor into this at all, Severus suspected. Something happened to someone who mattered to Black, or Black thought it did, or would. That was what sprang the young man from the grave, or else his secrets would’ve died with him. But that was a question for another day. ‘ What did you find? ’

wrongdeor​:

Severus held the other’s gaze as he spoke his name, looking for snippets of memory, a passing thought that would reveal them to be a pretender. There was no distance between the mind he looked into and the name Regulus Black. This was, at worst, someone who fully believed they were the dead Heir of the House of Black. At best —

Doubt, despite itself, dissipated rapidly once Regulus opened his big bloody mouth, and the most ridiculous taunts left his lips. Hm, yes. There he was, the impossible brat. Severus almost grinned, suddenly, but schooled his features back down to impassivity. His shoulders relaxed just a little. 

He raised an eyebrow. ‘ I got sick of being told what to do, ’ Severus said, ‘ and treachery sounded grand. A better question would be why not, really. ’ He waved a hand flippantly. ‘ It goes better with my nature, yes? Halfbloods and their shaky convictions, and all. I suppose your darling Bella was right about me all along. ’

He walked up to the littlest Black, arms crossed, a slight cant to his head. He intended to look menacing, but his guard was down, and his tone was more inquisitive than accusatory: ‘ You, on the other hand, heir to name and to fortune — how does this go with yours? ’ What are you doing here, Regulus?

*

“Oi,” Regulus asked, leaning forward on that couch he’d rather burn than sit on again, “are you in my head?” He looked at the other, scanning their shoulders, their mouth, their general now-lost tension. “You are, aren’t you? You seem very pleased with yourself there, Severus,” Regulus added with a scowl that was patently false in sincerity and transparent to the thing he might label joy beneath it. “Figures you’d go poking.”

Regulus’ head fell back onto the couch, eyes sliding shut against his will yet following it at the same time. The duality of conscious and unconscious desires playing out in that one simple movement. He’d been worried, before, but whatever Severus was here to do, he’d do it without alerting the entire damn estate to it. That was safety enough for Regulus to close his eyes. Not despite Severus, but because of Severus.

“You always were a contrary little bugger,” Regulus agreed. “It was never enough to make one spell, no you had to make, what? Eleven, twelve of the things?” Regulus sighed, rocking his head back and forth on the couch in the best approximation he could of a shake. “Bella did turn out to not be right about much,” Regulus said quietly, “and I don’t think she was right about that.” That was entirely too much honesty for this conversation. Regulus was going to blame the sleep-deprivation if it was brought up.

“Treachery is quite the lark though, I must admit that. Always something done in a flurry of springtime fancy like a Hufflepuff after a pastry. Knees knocking together with the sugar high and excitement of it all.” Regulus shook his head again, choosing honesty, blunt and brittle a tool though it was. “I went researching. Volunteered a friend for something I never should have. Nearly lost him and found more than I should have in those books.”

Cracking open one eye through its leaden weight, Regulus looked at Severus. “I found something out. Something that could be fatal to someone I swore to serve. I nearly died for it and didn’t bother sharing it until now.” That eye closed again. “Don’t go blabbing that around, not even to Evans. Especially not to Evans. Strictly need-to-know, that. Might interfere with my future ambitions if it gets out and then I’d really have to hex you with something you didn’t make up.”

This is a list of curses Severus crafted for the Dark Lord during the last six years of their Death-Eatership. These spells are commonly used by Death Eaters, and experienced Order members came across them often in the last 6 years. There are no set counters for these curses yet – they’re mostly dealt with through a patchwork of obscure spells and potions that work as often as they don’t. There’s a rumor among Order members that Severus crafted spells for the DE, but it was neither confirmed nor denied.

Feel free to include these curses in threads,  plots, and backstory in whatever way you like! If you have any questions, let me know. (pls heed the warnings)

Battle spells:

Frigus —

Freezes the major blood vessels connected to the heart. Turns the blood to ice, spreads outwards. This spell is used in battle, and the victim of this curse loses consciousness immediately. If the counter is not cast shortly after the curse, or a healer had not found a way to keep the victim alive long enough for the ice to be melted, the victim will die.

The counter for this spell was crafted shortly after Severus Snape joined the Order of the phoenix.

Sectumsempra —

Always cuts. The wand movement is ambiguous – a quick and decisive slash, in any direction, upward or downward or sideways. The victim is cut in broad slashes, like a sword flying in broad arcs. If the wand is thrust forward instead as the spell is cast, then much like a sword the magic will stab through the victim from one side and come out the other. A clean cut.

Wounds from this curse can bleed for hours and hours, and are particularly resistant to common healing spells. The spell was created by Severus Snape during his sixth year at Hogwarts, and the healing spell was created some time after his graduation, but is still an almost total unknown.

Submerso —

Fills the victim’s lungs with water so they drown while standing in land. This spell is used in battle, and the victim will react much like a drowning person would. Except, unlike a drowning victim, the water can’t be coughed back up, and the common spells used to treat drowning victims in such an emergency only increase the amount of water and hurry the victim along towards their death.

There is no known counter for this curse. Healers have begun using bastardized cleaning spells to remove the excess water instead, but the victims are often left extremely dehydrated as a result, and the struggle is always getting there in time before it’s too late.

Putredine –

Purple flames wrap around the victim like thick ropes. They don’t burn. They weaken the flesh, poison the blood. Extremely painful upon impact. If left unhealed for long periods of time the flesh rots and must be amputated. There is no designated healing spell for this curse, and healers have had to use creative and various methods to treat it’s victims. Effectiveness of treatment methods is inconsistent.

Ave –

Spell leaves small but deep wounds in the victim, like holes. The number and depth of holes depends on wand movement and strength of the spell cast. The wounds are deeply reminiscent of bullet holes. 

Flamma pulmintra –

The precursor to Cinere, the ash spell. Turns the air in the victim’s lungs scorching hot, burns the victim inside out. There is no designated healing spell for this curse, and healers have had to use creative and various methods to treat it’s victims. Effectiveness of treatment methods is inconsistent. 

Naufragi tumet –

Attacks the nerves of the affected area of the body. The nerves swell and twist into new shapes. Extremely painful upon impact, and for a time afterwards the affected body part would be useless. Healers have had to use creative and various methods to treat it’s victims. Effectiveness of treatment methods is inconsistent. 

Lapise –

Turns the victim’s flesh to stone. Upon casting will transfigure the part of the body it hits to stone, and begin a very slow and gradual spread throughout the rest of the body. The speed and duration of the transfiguration depends on the caster’s skill. it can take anywhere from hours, to days, to weeks to spread out in a noticeable rate, by then the battle will have long been over. A skilled healer or wix knowledgeable in human transfiguration can slowly and painstakingly undo the effects of the spell, but the effectiveness of that process depends on the skills of said healer itself. The spell has no official counter, as it doesn’t officially exist in any text, and is only known and used by Death Eaters.

Pavor –

The victim is suddenly and unexpectedly overwhelmed by intense, all-consuming fear and panic. The effects of this spell last anywhere from minutes to hours, and the echoes of fear linger for long afterwards. Victims of this curse would do anything from freeze mid battle, drop their wand and curl up in a ball and rock back and forth, scream, weep, run and run and run amid spellfire with no direction or logic or thought. Nothing but fear. Nothing but panic. Very few people give this spell the weight it deserves – it has no permanent physical effects and as such, survivors of this curse are given a calming draught at most and dismissed as healthy afterwards without a second thought. 

Interrogation spells:

Flore —

Seeds twist into existence within every joint of the body. They grow, and bloom, and by the end of the spell flowers have pushed their way out of shoulders, elbows, and knees, in full bloom. The only thing that will stop the flowers’ progress is speech: talk, and the pain stops. Talk, and maybe they’ll finally kill you. Victims of this curse retain full awareness and mental clarity throughout this process. The pain settles without the haze to dull it.

If the spell is canceled before the flowers have pushed their way out, the victim may live. They may suffer permanent injuries, most notably in the knees, wrists, and elbows. The seeds will remain embedded in every joint.

Shortly after joining the order, Severus Snape crafted a healing spell that heals most of the wounds inflicted by the curse, depending on the severity, and a potion to dissolve the seeds and mend the joints back together. Full recovery is not guaranteed.

Dolor —

This spell is used for torture and for extracting information from victims. When cast, the lightest of touches upon the skin would cause the most excruciating pain. Running a feather down a victim’s arm would send them screaming and weeping themselves hoarse. A sharp gust of wind would cut like knives. The weight of their clothes, the press of their shoes, the texture of the earth against the soles of their feet. Everything will cause relentless waves of pain. Being under the effects of this spell for too long is known to send victims into shock, and in extreme cases, lose their minds.

Interrogations using this spell are usually conducted by two or more Death Eaters. One to cast the spell and keep it going, and the other to ask the questions and make sure they receive an answer. Victims of this spell are treated with the same remedies a victim of the cruciateus is. Non-Death Eaters who have seen or heard of this spell often refer to it as the other cruciateus.

That one mf-ing spell:

Cinere —

The victim turns to ash. First the skin, then the muscle, then the tissue, then the bones. It's a slow and meandering process, unsteady and certain only in it’s inevitability, picking up speed and intensity only to jolt to a near halt, then meander for a while longer as if to play some more. It may take, on average, from three to seven days to complete. The victim remains alive through the entirety of the process. There is yet no known counter for this curse. Once a victim has been hit, the only thing that can be done to stop the pain is a mercy kill.

This curse was created to send a message. Powerful enemies of the Dark Lord would die slowly and painfully in plain view of their loved ones, begging for death. This curse was not used frequently so as to not reduce its impact.

@melancolialunar​

June 14th, 1984. The Lupins’ household.

Severus stepped over the cobblestoned garden path and up the steps in a straight, uninterrupted walk, but as they stopped before the closed door, they hesitated. They were keenly interested to see how the adjusted Wolfsbane fared against the eclipse, and that was what brought them here in the first place, but before they rang the bell to Lupin’s mother’s house, they felt a rush of nerves at what awaited them and what to expect from this visit. The last time they dealt with an eclipse, Severus didn’t see Lupin for nearly a week. And the wolfsbane was completely ineffective then. Now — Severus wanted to see for themself. 

They shifted the strap of the work bag against their shoulder, adjusted the pot of hot soup in their hands, took a deep breath that they let out slowly. They rang the doorbell, and waited. ‘ Good to see you’re still alive, ’ Severus greeted dryly. But not dishonestly. ‘ We have a lot of work to do, ’ they lifted the shoulder with the bag strap briefly, shifted their stance, and patted the lid of the steaming pot of chicken soup. Then declared their offering, ‘ I brought food. ’

Severus stayed in their little out of the way table for twenty minutes after Lily gathered her worry-fueled determination about her like the hems of a too long dress and set out anew to find Lupin. They didn’t envy the werewolf, who was unlikely to find anywhere clever enough to hide from Lily, but if he was going to indulge in self destruction then Lily was free to indulge in her excessive mothering. Severus kept an eye and an ear out, just to see how that went. Indulgent, themself, in their own hobby : people-watching. They liked to see how things went with people, once they picked up on a thread. 

Soon enough they were bored with their seat and changed vantage points, picking up their near-empty butterbeer and moving to the bar, where they could see the other side of the club more easily. It was the same glass they had all night. ( Severus didn’t get drunk in public — alone in their room? Very much. Too often. Especially while working on a difficult project. But not in public. That would be embarrassing — dangerous, too. But mostly embarrassing. ).

A glass of Whiskey slid down the bar towards them. ‘ How terrible of me to forget my manners, ’ Severus rolled their eyes, but picked up the offered drink. ‘ And with such respectable company at that. ’  The din of noise and chaos rose around them at just that moment before dying down quickly. This was more of a post-Quidditch House party than anything else. 

They’d meant to reach out to Longbottom — just to test the waters. Just to see in what direction her thoughts and inclinations leaned. It was interesting to see her reach out to Severus first, but not, from what they observed, completely unexpected. They looked at her, eyebrow raised, made a quick pass over the surface of her thoughts. Intentions rippled slowly from underneath. ‘ I’ll take the company and the drink, ’ they said with a nod, ‘ but keep in mind I’m not as easily entertained as Lupin. ’ 

Whiskey with Notes of Ulterior Motive

LOCATION: The Flaming Dragon DATE: June 12, 1984 @wrongdeor

Alice shook her stinging hand out, pleased and pleasantly tired in that slightly-battered way that followed a game of Quodcup, and leaned back against the bar to finish catching her breath. Not that she was some old-fart like Moody who needed to catch her breath after a rousing game or anything, of course not. But it was a nice excuse to relax and take a breath.

She took a sip of the rich Cinnamon Crackle Whiskey she’d ordered as a rich, mellow break from the brighter, more interesting drinks she’d been imbibing so far tonight, distractedly savoring the way the sparking crackles snapped against her lips before dissolving into the almost honey-like liquid that trickled down her throat like a balm.

Then she paused so abruptly that she almost choked, swallowed before she actually did choke, and beckoned urgently to the bartender for a second beverage. Waiting for its arrival was torture that had her bouncing on her stool. The glass had barely brushed her fingers when pushed off the bar with sudden, impatient purpose. The grin that had flickered across her face at the sight of her target flickered away again almost as quickly in favor of determination. The rest of the bar fell away (not completely; Alice wasn’t an idiot, which meant she knew that if she ever let herself close-focus so hard that she forgot to pay attention to the world around her in a place where Alastor Moody could see her, she would regret it) and she walked through the cluster of her allies on autopilot, heading for someone who had joined those ranks only a few months ago and whom Alice hadn’t made an effort to seek out more than in passing yet.

But that had been before she’d realized the true value Severus Snape brought to the Order of the Phoenix. It wasn’t what he knew about the Death Eaters, so much of which he couldn’t explicitly share with the rest of them – whether because of compulsion spells Voldemort placed on his followers or admonishments from Dumbledore not to spread his secrets too widely Alice neither knew nor cared. It was because he knew of what they knew: the Dark Magic they used to such devastating extent against the Order. And not just the sort of Dark Magic that one could learn from books, no. She had learned that Severus was one of those rare wix with the gift for true creativity.

Alice slid into the empty chair next to Severus and pushed the second glass of whiskey towards him with her fingertips like it was a sort of offering. “Bad form to drink alone at a party,” she said lightly. “So I brought you a drink and company with which to quaff it.” She offered a smile – warm, but thin; she didn’t want to come on too strong and put his hackles up. (Not that she was sure she’d ever seen him with his hackles down anywhere among the Order.) “You can decline either or both, of course,” she added in a dry deadpan, “but know that if you do so you’ll be shattering my heart irreparably.”

regulus-blacked​:

There were three people that Regulus had once worked with that he considered an ally, perhaps even a friend. One of which he’d been related to, which effectively knocked that number down to two. One of them was standing in front of him now in a place they had no reason to be, with knowledge he had no reason to have. It set Regulus’ teeth on edge. The idea of being played by someone he considered… Unlikely to spell him in the back set his stomach rolling and wrapped his lungs in iron. 

The part of it that ate at him most was how badly Regulus wanted Severus to be here as a friend.

“No question is stupid if you’re talking it to an idiot,” Regulus remarked. Severus was clever. Regulus knew that, admired it even, but it wasn’t like he was going to say that. Leaning back against the back of the somewhat lopsided couch he’d been deposited on, he looked at the other person and allowed the blatant inspection of his general existence. “Surprised,” he asked, raising one eyebrow. “I feel about twice as dead as I am, so I guess it balances out. Why in the name of Merlin, Morgana, and Arthur are you here?”

Severus held the other’s gaze as he spoke his name, looking for snippets of memory, a passing thought that would reveal them to be a pretender. There was no distance between the mind he looked into and the name Regulus Black. This was, at worst, someone who fully believed they were the dead Heir of the House of Black. At best —

Doubt, despite itself, dissipated rapidly once Regulus opened his big bloody mouth, and the most ridiculous taunts left his lips. Hm, yes. There he was, the impossible brat. Severus almost grinned, suddenly, but schooled his features back down to impassivity. His shoulders relaxed just a little. 

He raised an eyebrow. ‘ I got sick of being told what to do, ’ Severus said, ‘ and treachery sounded grand. A better question would be why not, really. ’ He waved a hand flippantly. ‘ It goes better with my nature, yes? Halfbloods and their shaky convictions, and all. I suppose your darling Bella was right about me all along. ’

He walked up to the littlest Black, arms crossed, a slight cant to his head. He intended to look menacing, but his guard was down, and his tone was more inquisitive than accusatory: ‘ You, on the other hand, heir to name and to fortune — how does this go with yours? ’ What are you doing here, Regulus?

Severus watched Moody drag his injured leg about like an empty sack, barking orders and checking on people and asking questions the moment he crossed the entrance. Then holding a bloody meeting with his leg hanging about rather awkwardly as it waited to be seen to. The only reason Severus didn’t drag the ridiculous man to the infirmary himself was because he was too busy to leave the infirmary —- well. No. Not so busy as that … but the thought of leaving the room when Lily was in the state she was in sent a chill down his spine, a feeling of such inevitable doom that he wouldn’t dare risk it. And so he didn’t.

But Moody slunk into the infirmary like a mouse into it’s trap. Before he could escape, Severus pounced. ‘ You’re fine when I say you’re fine, ’ Severus intoned, and waved his wand. The doors to the infirmary swung shut with an ominous click. He gestured towards the side door that led to a smaller room with the extra cot and armchair. ‘ Sit down, ’ he said. Gaze dropped deliberately towards Moody’s bad knee. ‘ That poor leg will thank you for it. ’

DOCTOR, DOCTOR

WHEN. june 25, super fucking early WHERE. prewett estate infirmary WHO. @wrongdeor

When Alastor and Gideon apparated back to headquarters, Moody was limping. He took one step, and then a second, and the pain that burned in his leg accompanied the throbbing in his head and the burning at his side quite nicely. They worked, one right along with the other, to make his body scream at him. He'd known he'd been hit, too, and he figured Gideon had seen at least the thing that'd hit him in the head. At the other man's urging he dragged his sorry carcass to the infirmary.

What he found was utter chaos, and Alastor nearly turned right back around and walked out again. He could fix his own bloody knee and his own bloody aches and pains. Evan was busy, Emmeline was too. Daisy was running about looking worried. There were too many people, and Moody drew himself inward, not wanting to be touched for fear it would spark more pain. If he did, he knew that he'd snap at someone about it. He never had been a good patient.

Moody had slunk half out of the room already before he was caught out, though, and he knew without looking who it was that'd done it. He felt, for what it was worth, like a young lad caught for trying to sneak out past curfew and wasn't that just off?

"'M fine. Don't need you or any of the others worryin' about my sorry arse," he said, voice gruff and low, holding himself with his shoulders drawn taut, favoring his left leg because the other was dragging a bit. "Can fix it myself. You've too many."

If Severus had been part of the team and it’s planning from the beginning, they wouldn’t have wasted so much time setting wards the day of the mission itself. It was a two-tier ward with protective and defensive spellwork, as well as an intruder’s alert. Something he had prepared previously just in case of an emergency. It was effective enough but hardly of the same effectiveness as something he could set up if he had three days instead of three hours. Bellatrix Lestrange could barrel through this in three minutes. But that was what the alarm was for.

He flicked his wrist, the last of the spellwork spun like a ribbon into a tight knot of magic. ‘ Not bad, ’ he said. But not ideal. ‘ We’re done here. This should give us a heads up if someone slips past us. ’ He paused, trying to think of a way to explain it in layman’s terms without going into technical details. ‘ It detects intent to harm and redirects it to the source. With vigor. ’ There. No need to delve into the gory details. ‘ We need a good vantage point to stake out now. ’

He turned to Lupin. ‘ What’ve you got? ’

@melancolialunar, @txlkalots

Where: Liverpool

When: June 24th

Who: Remus & Severus & Lucinda

This was the part of battle that Lucinda hated. The non-battle part. The waiting around, standing still while waiting to spring into action. Her entire body was on high-alert, startling at every rustle of a leaf, every coo of a nearby bird. Every second seemed to drag out – especially when there was no sign for how long this state of limbo would last. She hated it.  Give her battle and curses, quick attacks and nimble opponents; at least then she could do something. Be useful.

For now she was resigned to stand guard while the ward-experts quietly surrounded the house of Spencer Davies with shields and spells Lucinda probably couldn’t even name. A safety measure, others would see it. A symbolic effort if you asked her. If their enemies got to the wards, it meant that there was nobody left to protect Davies. But it wouldn’t come to that. Not when they were prepared and Lucinda’s hands were itching with spells.

She let her eyes scan their surroundings, before briefly turning to her teammates. “How’s it looking time-wise?”

@wrongdeor , then @melancolialunar