@asphodelroot

asphodelroot​:

“I’d prefer avoiding all fights, altercations, and crossed words,” Lily snipped, crunch the remnants of the ice cube between her teeth. “Somehow I doubt that you occupying Sirius for the evening would a smart step towards that goal.” Especially with Sev admitting to be so totally ready to poke and prod at a werewolf under a full moon eclipse for the sake of trying make him have a violent outburst. For the thoroughness of the study, but still.

“Remus is plenty mentally present tonight.” Which might speak well to this variation of the brew, if not for all the other moon-mad symptoms itching at him. “Meaning problem is his calm. Just because he’s aware of where he is and what he’s doing doesn’t mean he can’t get angry and lash out about it.” But maybe that wasn’t something a potion could be relied on to regulate. Hell, perhaps it wasn’t even the lycanthropy’s fault. Remus could simple be angry and lashing out, because he was angry and lashing out. Not because of the moon or because he was bitten so many years ago (well, maybe because of that, but not in the usual, lunar sense).

Pursing her lips against the gloominess of symptoms she couldn’t help with a brew (and had thus far failed to help with anything else), Lily curled her arms around the plate of sausages and started munching on them. A welcome distraction, even if not the crisp burst of cherries she wanted. “Take me through the variations you’re going to try next,” she said, because losing herself in calculations and magical construction would also be a distraction from her irritation and the helplessness rooted beneath it.

Severus shrugged in a hey, at least I tried, sort of way, and didn’t press the issue. 

Severus hummed in thought, half agreement and half introspection, eyes flitting about the room until they landed on the werewolf. ‘ He does, at that, ’ is all he said, but he wondered privately if some of the ingredients diluted within the potion mixed together wrong. If he’d made a mistake that enhanced the moon-madness rather than decreased it. He had such little room to test it’s effectiveness, a population sample of one, but he had done the best he could with what was available and whatever happened tomorrow night there would at least be able to collect more information to work on for the next eclipse.

Severus nodded at her request, leaned forward, elbows on the table, and began a thorough explanation of the current variation on wolfsbane he was working with, as well as the one he was going to attempt next (and next, and next, until it bloody worked). The chatter seemed to help her, and it helped him as well to reiterate and explain what was mostly buzzing about in his own head for months now. Lily was always a good sounding board.

Eventually, the chatter winded down, and Lily dashed off to find her wayward werewolf with renewed determination. Severus sighed, pulled his plate back in front of him, and resumed his habit of people-watching.

END.

madeyed-andmoody​:

The Goyle estate wards were so easy a toddler could have done them. However, that was not why Alastor had brought Severus Snape with him. No, he’d brought him along because, despite Dumbledore’s assertion that Moody just trust the younger man, Snape still needed to be proven in the field. Thus far, they’d been trustworthy. Thus far, their information had been sound.

Yet something still nagged at the back of Alastor’s mind. It may have something to do with the fact Severus had tried prodding at it every chance they could get. Or, perhaps, the flippancy with which they handled curses and other dark magics - where it was a necessary curiosity for Alastor, one he’d indulged in to learn, Severus’s fascination lay far deeper.

Moody had known Severus would be able to get them the document they’d need from the Goyle estate. He also had his suspicions surrounding the estate and the missing Order members. At the very least, he figured Severus would have an idea.

Without a portkey, Moody and Snape were forced to trudge through the dark and, quite frankly, disturbing woodland. They’d been out for a long while, though the Order knew where they were headed. Both wix were clearly tired, though neither had admitted to the bodily weakness of tiredness. Not in front of the other. And, finally, they had reached the border, the clearing his would allow them to leave just ahead when –

A twig snapped. It wasn’t him, or Snape.

Alastor hunched his shoulders, grabbed fistfuls of Snape’s robes, and tossed him as far as he could - safely, it seemed, behind a broken section of an old arch. Not far enough yet, he noticed as he turned, planting his feet with a snarl, but getting there.

A curse came hurtling toward him from the shadows ahead and Alastor sidestepped neatly, tossing up a protego wide enough to span the opening he was protecting, fishing out his wand as he did. “Snape,” he barked, tossing a look over his shoulder. “Break anything? If not, find us a way out! Now!”

The trip through the private woods was long and tedious, and completely avoidable had Severus been able to replenish his supply of portkeys in time. He was not very athletic — or at all, really — and felt every unnecessary step they took down the woods with deep frustration and exhaustion. Neither of which he showed to his partner, whom he was sure kept one eye on the enemy and one on Severus himself. This mission was a test, and everything he did was, as always, under scrutiny.

A twig snapped. Severus swiveled around on high alert towards the source of the noise, wand at the ready — the weight of hands on his back and shoulder, a twist of fabric — The ground was swept from beneath his feet. Severus blinked. He only had time to be confused before he slammed against the ground a few yards away with a heavy THUD.

He got back up on his feet cursing and huffing and considerably more annoyed than he was only a moment ago. ‘ Fuck off! You bloody brick! ’ He shouted back at the buffoon that threw him across the fucking field, but he was half turned towards the broken arch, wand in motion, spells at the ready. Wards meant to keep people in were only a hair's breadth away from keeping people out. Severus reached into the edge, plucked its strings, and cast a spell, the incantation rolling off his tongue like water. A long string of latin whispered in gentle, coaxing tones, and the edge of the safety clearing shimmered and expanded it’s scope until it covered both himself and the Auror a few yards behind. It would keep their enemies outside of the dome. But more importantly, Severus and Moody can apparate out.

‘ NOW, ’ shouted Severus over his shoulder. ‘ We have thirteen seconds! ’ Moody had to apparate first, if Severus left the spell would break and the safety border would snap right back into shape.

theoselwyn​:

Theo had known that they’d be getting some death eaters. That was a given really. She hadn’t quite been expecting to see the sheer amount that were marching towards them. She had to admit it was strange to think about firing spells at her colleagues. Technically they were, since they were all working for the Dark Lord. But, she was here with the Order and she had to at least fight the Death Eaters. And, to be honest, Theo kind of liked the idea of getting some hits in against Bellatrix.

The moment they’d seen the orders they’d sprung into action. They had too. It was needed. Everything was chaotic, and muggles were running every where. They needed to contain the death eaters as soon as possible. She had no idea where Gideon had gone, but she saw Severus, and she decided to stick close to him. Surely two of them would manage better than just the one.

“We need to take them out.” Because that was what the death eaters would do to them. She fired some spells in the direction of the death eaters, trying to take some of them out. “I know we’re supposed to protect the statue…. but fuck that. We need to save these muggle.” Which was…. an interesting development for Theo. 

Selwyn was a bold fighter, they could give her that. They held off the squadron of Death Eaters long enough for back up to arrive, and while Severus kept half an eye on her and half on their enemies, the barrage of curses and attacks became overwhelming. It didn’t take long for them to fight back to back. For the heavy fire to become too much to fight off.

Selwyn took too many hits and crumpled to the ground abruptly. Severus hesitated before picking up their fallen partner and apparating them both back to HQ for her injuries to be seen to. Lupin and the others would’ve had enough time to get the muggle family out — they have to trust they did just that.

End.

asphodelroot​:

Lily’s first stop after the first time she’d lost Remus in the two seconds she’d turned her back on him had been the bar, where she’d spent a frustrating ten minutes talking the bartender through making a Shirley Temple—okay maybe four of those had been spent convincing them she really did need four cherries; grenadine and ginger ale wasn’t a hard concept for anyone to grasp. The name seemed to be the main sticking point, because the ‘Cherry-Bomb Fizz’ the bartender had presented her with a flourish seemed no different from what little Shirley would sip on at all those fancy Hollywood parties. Save for perhaps the excessive amount of cherries.

Drink acquired and first cherry quickly dispatched, the second stop on Lily’s limited itinerary was this now habitual table, out of the way and with an excellent view of main room. The second cherry hadn’t survived long, and the third was tucked behind her teeth as she scoffed. “I don’t make bets against my own interests,” she said. Not to mention ones she was pretty sure had the odds severely stacked against her. “As long as it’s not Sirius, we’ll all survive.” They never needed a reenactment of that fight, but they especially didn’t need one on this particular night, with Remus ready to rip into anyone and everyone at the drop of the hat. Looking sidelong at her friend, Lily had no humor to her as she added, “Don’t encourage it.”

Severus plopped the last cherry into his mouth before it met its fast approaching demise. ‘ Hmm, doesn't that sound like a lie, ’ he said aloud, and pushed his plate of sausage rolls and fries between them to head off protests regarding his ill-concealed theft. He could think of a few occasions where Lily made bets directly against her own interests, with predictable consequences. But like the good friend he was he kept the details to himself.

Severus hummed, eyes flickered down the other side of the room to where Black was. Severus always knew where the other one was if they were in the same room. Old habits die hard, and six years of distance clearly weren’t enough to dull his caution. For good reason. He looked back at Lily and lifted both hands up in mock surrender. ‘ Alright, alright, I’ll resist. ’ He would try. The little part of him that urged to poke the hungry bear stomped about in protest. He brushed it aside. His tone turned serious. ‘ Did you talk to Lupin? What was he like? ’ It wasn’t a regular full moon coming up. They were all concerned for a repeat of last May, even with the adjustments Severus made to the Wolfsbane. ‘ He’s always agitated before a full moon. ’

@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.”

melancolialunar​:

As expected – perhaps by no one else but himself –, the full moon night had been an absolute nightmare. Remus followed all the steps, he took the wolfsbane potion obediently, then locked himself up in a cage that was a tad too small for the fully grown wolf by now, and then he ignored his father’s nervous footsteps on the room next door. And then he waited. And he turned. The eclipse was a funny thing; it was almost as if the shadow was reaching down, curling a hand around his very spine and shaking him around violently. The wolfsbane potion almost felt like a joke.

Waking up wasn’t any easier, though at least he managed to crawl into a bath, hoping the warm water would soothe the bruises lighting up every spot that his body had thrashed against the metal bars. It didn’t, but at least it helped wash away the blood. Lyall had disappeared, as he often did the morning afters, avoiding his son’s eyes at any cost. Remus preferred it that way, too.

He peered through the peephole first, and opened the door with a pair of furrowed brows. He was positive he looked like a truck just ran him over, but hey, if Severus wanted to study their subject, then they might as well see him at his second-worst. “You brought food.” He echoed, accent thick in his tiredness, eyes focused on the mentioned pot for a lingering moment of silence. “I should ask you something to make sure it’s really you, but that smells good enough that I’m willing to die for it.” He sighed, walking back into the house and letting Severus follow him in.

As someone who dealt in secrets and information, Severus was less than reassured by how easily he was let in, but he walked into the house and let the door fall shut behind him wordlessly. He would lecture about security and stranger-danger when the werewolf didn’t look dead on his feet. Which made Severus wonder about the state of the wards on this house, if they were up to standard — somehow, he doubted Lupin bothered to install a three-tiered blood-bound protective ward around the property, but resolved to ask anyway. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to at least run a diagnostic later too.

Severus set the pot and the plate of warm bread down on the coffee table, and soon enough he was settled on the couch, notes spread out, and a steaming bowl of chicken soup in his left hand extended out towards Lupin. When Mum was sick, those long and dragging years before she passed, the neighbors filed in with pots and plates of food, and pity, which the proud witch did not care for, and one by one she drove them all away with mean-spirited and bitter lashings, and Severus would sit on her bedside with a bowl of soup and a table spoon until she calmed down. She wanted to see him and only him on her last days, and he knew his Mum then in a way he couldn’t for all seventeen years prior. 

Lupin was always sick on the day after a full moon. Severus didn’t think it through when he made and packed the soup and bread this morning, but now, making the offer, it suddenly felt uncomfortable. ‘ I need you focused, ’ he said. ‘ You look like death. ’ 

He picked up his notes and quill, flipped through a few pages, and settled back against the couch. A hand went up to tuck a strand behind his ear. ‘ What happened yesterday? Walk me through it. ’

Severus made his way to the infirmary at a brisk stride, Selwyn’s blood soaking through his robes and arms by the time he stepped into the room. The battle was not what any of them had expected, and the trickle of suspicion he’d felt prior to being dispatched was regrettably well placed.

Severus weaved his way through the chaos of the infirmary after a mission and found the empty cot, where he placed Selwyn carefully and cast a spell to check her vitals.

Rosier cursed. Severus looked up — and his eyes snagged on a flash of bright red hair. His breath hitched like he was punched in the throat. ‘ Yes, ’ he said quickly, and rattled off Selwyn’s vitals and the injuries she’d sustained in the battlefield that he knew of, making his way over to the other cot. ‘ What happened to her?! ’ He barked, standing over Lily’s cot. There was a peculiar clarity amidst the panic. It was him, and Rosier, and Lily, and the cold claw of fear that sunk itself down his spine and spread through him. Everything else dissolved into white noise.

Evan & @wrongdeor (@asphodelroot & @theoselwyn referenced) June 24, 1984 - Infirmary roughly a minute and a half after Theo got brought in

Evan could handle chaos. It was part of his day job so handling injuries after the mission shouldn’t have felt nearly as exhausting as it did. Not even two full teams back and he was already dealing with one person in critical condition and the rest of the team having come back concussed or worst. He would owe a thank you to Emmeline later since she was doing a phenomenal job at going back and forth between people. She had better bedside manner than his own but he had the excuse of worrying about multiple people if it came to someone complaining to Hestia or Alastor. At the end of the day, he cared about no one dying more than being viewed as the friendly healer putting up with being sworn at, screamed at, or both.

He had been about to take a seat and catch his breath for a moment when Severus came in with someone, merely earning an arched brow and a groan before he shifted his attention from Lily to the two.

“Status update?” He asked, expression faltering upon realizing who the person Severus had laid out on the one empty cot was. “Fucking hell, shit-” Evan snapped his mouth shut to avoid saying anything more unintelligible than that, pinching the bridge of his nose before he spoke again. “Theodosia. We- Can I switch with you? I’ve got Lily and will update you once you update me.”

So did I, Severus thought but didn’t say aloud. They had a busy schedule. They kept up with many duties at once. When the werewolf invited them for coffee they dismissed the idea out of hand, but as they found themself free this afternoon (what a coincidence! How often did a hole in their schedule appear unannounced?) they threw on an old pair of jeans and a shirt, their feet taking them down familiar London streets before they fully realized what they were doing. Or rather, why they were doing it.

The last time they properly set foot in the muggle world was so long ago Severus couldn’t place it accurately. Despite this, they merged into the comfortable flow of foot traffic as seamlessly as they would if they’ve never left. The difference between London’s streets and the silent, furtive shuffle of Diagon’s was unsubtle. It was like the war had disappeared behind them, as real as a troubling dream upon waking. Severus disliked spending more time here than they absolutely had to. Juxtaposed with this comfortable illusion of safety, the reality of their everyday life reimposed itself tenfold.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Dropped his gaze to the table instinctively, then looked at the werewolf, at the hand gesture. Fine, he thought, dragging the metal chair back to take a seat. Fine, then he motioned for the waiter to get him his own coffee (black, no milk, no sugar) and sat down.

He crossed his legs at the knees. Leaned back, elbow resting over the back of the metal chair. He fought the urge to fiddle with his silver earring. ‘ I almost decided this was a joke, ’ he said, the corner of his lips lifted in a smirk. ‘ One last cheap shot for old times’ sake. I haven’t ruled that out yet, just so you know. ’ He watched the werewolf silently, hand close to his wand. Waiting. Wary, but an ever-present anger moving beneath the surface. ‘ What’s this about? ’

WHEN: sometime shortly after Severus joined the order WHERE: muggle coffee shop CLOSED for @wrongdeor

Remus Lupin is not a man of many regrets. In fact, blinding Gryffindor as he is, he’d rather puff out his chest and act like a massive dick, saying he’s never done any wrong, rather than admit to some things he’d like to change in his past. But there are things. Pride sits high up in his chest and refuses to let the words form on his tongue on most days, but he has things to apologise for. In particular, the one time he was, in fact, a monster.

He’s never been proud of hurting people; every time he’s lashed out at his friends through the years, every time the full moon has made its home amongst the stars and some greater evil within him has tried its best to tear apart his friendships, he always crawls back and begs for forgiveness the morning after. He’s not a monster, he doesn’t want to be. Except the one time he is, the one time he’s done one of the worst things he could do, he hides behind his friends and doesn’t think about it ever again. There are layers upon layers of denial that sit atop of whatever foggy memory he has of the prank. He felt used by his friend, like a killing machine upon a leash; he felt inhuman for the first time in years; he was a monster who had nearly killed someone. It was easier to push all of it away, deal with none of it, and act like it didn’t happen.

It felt like that, until Severus joined the Order. Seeing them more often made the lump in Remus’ throat grow, the guilt and the resentment flooding up his brain until it was a headache he couldn’t get rid of, an ever present ache he was fighting against. He isn’t a man of many regrets, yes, but he’s not going to walk around like a coward, barely able to meet Severus’ eyes. So he sets up a meeting.

“I thought you weren’t gonna show up.” He greets, when Severus finally arrives. There’s a scone forgotten on his plate and a half-empty cup of some overpriced cappuccino concoction in front of him. He blinks up at the other, almost as if dumbfounded by their presence, before he gestures to the seat across from him. “Please." 

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