Regulus-blacked​:

Let’s switch, said Rosier, and handed him a diagnostics paper and rattled off a list of instructions. Severus looked at the bed and rocked back on his heels, suddenly, like taking a physical blow. He’d fallen from a tree once, when he was young, twenty feet down and it knocked all the air from his lungs. The memory resurfaced unprompted, an echo of this moment, and he tried to take a deep breath. Then he took one step, two steps, and stood by Lily’s bedside.

His hand reached out carefully to touch her wrist, felt the faint pulse in her veins, and watched the air expand and expel from her lungs. For what felt like eternity, Severus stood like this, still as a statue. Waiting for signs she was getting worse. Bruised lungs. Internal bleeding. Broken collarbone. The list of diagnostics went on an endless loop in his mind —

Potter burst into the infirmary, a whirlwind of self important rage and childish animosity. Severus was yanked away by his bloody collar, and it was a testament to his current state of mind that it took him a moment to return to the present. To feel the anger light a fire in his gut. To think, who the fuck do you think you are?! Before he grabbed the front of Potter’s robes and slammed him against the wall of the infirmary, hard enough to rattle the shelves. ‘ Be quiet, ’ Severus said, a soft, quiet tone that belied the violence simmering underneath. ‘ Or get out. This is an infirmary, you fucking delinquent. Who do you think you are? ’

@healerrosier 

Date: June 24th, 1984, just after leaving the Entry Room Location: The Prewett Estate, infirmary  @wrongdeor & @healerrosier

James moved quickly from his argument - possible argument? - with Jones down the corridor to the infirmary. Lily, fuck, Lily. She could be dead. She could be dying. He couldn’t fucking believe that he’d let her end them when he knew it might end up like this between them and they’d be left with nothing but tainted memories. He could’ve had four more months with her. Damn it, Lily.

He was angry and tired and so, so fucking terrified. But he was also keeping his cool, Hestia’s words about how blowing up wouldn’t help him - how Evan wouldn’t let him stay - ringing through his ears. And, by the time he made it to the infirmary, he was almost calm. Almost ready to sit by her bedside and stay out of Rosier’s way.

Until - 

Fucking Severus Snape. As though he was the dragon he’d conjured earlier that morning, James roared with life, a sudden energy renewed in him. Because Snape was standing over Lily’s bedside. Snape was watching her, making sure she had an even rise and fall of her chest. “You!” James snarled, that simmering rage rearing it’s ugly head as he moved over to Severus and yanked on the collar of his shirt, pulling him back, away from Lily. “Get the fuck away from her!”

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. ’

@theoselwyn​

June 24th, 1984. Liverpool.

The wail of the amulets cut through the quiet afternoon like a sword. There was a split second of silence when the three of them exchanged looks, then — with a pop, Severus was on the other side of the house where Prewett and Selwyn were and where the signal was coming from.

Where’s Prewett, Severus thought, seeing the squadron of Death Eaters plow their way through the street, heedless of the attention they were getting from the gathering crowd. One of the masked figures stepped forward and sent a curse out flying towards a bystander — the muggle dropped on the spot and didn’t move. It didn’t take long for the crowd to descend into chaos, people running in every direction as the Death Eaters continued their march. 

There was no time to find Prewett. They jumped into the fray without a second thought.

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.”

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.”

helloxhestia​:

Hestia’s eyes became slightly glazed when Severus said the name. But, no, not from fear. That name, over the past six years, had slowly developed a Pavlovian response in her. The words “Bellatrix Black” meant it was time to go to work.

But, his next words reminded her there was a real reason to be afraid. Liverpool.

Gideon.

Hestia instinctively looked at Moody with a pointed expression at the mention of Liverpool, and knew exactly why she’d been called so urgently. 

How could she have been so reckless? To finally get what you want, only to wish you’d never asked for it. If he had to face down Bellatrix on his first mission back, he might never go back on the field again.

She didn’t want to give Black any power over her and her teammates, but data was data, and Black’s track record spoke for itself.

Perhaps in response to Hestia’s look at Moody, Severus told her he’d already agreed. She nodded solemnly at this, and returned her attention to Severus.

Then, she heard their action plan.

She’d considered taking Gideon out of the field all together, but perhaps this could be a good compromise, sending Severus out with them, without wounding Gideon too deeply. They did believe in him, of course, no one did more than her, but… 

…it was Bellatrix.

As a response, Hestia opened her mouth slightly as though to ask “are you sure?” but remembered who she was talking to. If the past eight months of working with them had taught her anything, if Severus was unable to do something, they would have told her.

She looked them in the eye and almost imperceptibly nodded before turning back to Moody.

“I sanction it. Now, who’s going to talk to Prewett?”

madeyed-andmoody​:

Like Hestia, hearing the name ‘Bellatrix Black’ had instilled a visceral reaction in Alastor, one thay was neither shirked, nor ignored. Yes, he was shocked, but he also wasn’t. In some part of his mind, Moody had prepared for the inevitably of Bellatrix of another of the higher ranking Death Eaters to appear, though not, perhaps, for this mission.

He could feel Hestia’s eyes boring into the side of his head, but he refused to look at her, just then. Alastor leaned forward, hands braced on the table top, and listened as Severus recollected the past few moments. Hestia and Alastor both knew who they were speaking about, and their fears were staring them in the face.

However, Moody had told Gideon just yesterday morning that his involvement in these missions was his choice, that they would support him. The very real terror of Gideon freezing on the field – of Emmeline or Marlene or James, too, but certainly Gideon, now, with the…change in their relationship – was one that set his heart tripping over itself in his chest. And this, he thought, was why he had refused for so long to care.

(“But that wasn’t the truth, now, was it” the voice in his head hissed. “What of James? Of Gwendolyn and Lily, Severus, the Longbottoms? You care for them all, Moody. Do not lie to yourself.”)

Hestia sanctioned Severus’s joining Gideon’s team, and Alastor let out a breath, nodding his head. He still had not looked at Hestia, though he did now. Alastor did not need to check with Severus. He knew they could take care of themself.

“I will. He asked to come run something by me before the mission earlier. Sent me a message earlier at the office.” Alastor’s voice did not waver, nor did his gaze. “Gideon will be told of Severus’s move to thos team, and of the report. I will allow him to decide what his choice will be.”

If Gideon chose to stay, Alastor knew, at the very least, that Severus would be a deadly, efficient ally.

Severus looked at both their companions for a moment. Tomorrow loomed heavy before them all, but they felt confident in their ability to meet it head on. They were as prepared as they could be. They were devoted to the mission. There was nothing more they could do now.

Severus gave them each a brisk nod. ‘ I’ll see you both in the morning, ’ they said. They turned around and strode out the door. They had a lot of preparation to do.

END.

melancolialunar​:

Remus was stuck in a hazy existence, as if the very edges of life had been blurred out from the pain. It was difficult to care about anything when his entire body was busy putting itself back together. It was almost a miracle he even managed to be walking and moving like a semi-human – he remembered back in the day, having to be carried out to the infirmary in the mornings, unable to even stand on his feet. It was either a great fortune or a tragedy that his body seemed to have gotten more used to transformations now.

Careless as he was, he didn’t pay any of this situation any mind, for a hot second. Not his raggedy clothes that were three sizes too big and probably made him look like a hag, not the state of his father’s home, not the food that Severus chose to share on the table. He was careless as he sat down on the floor, limbs folding down ungracefully like a puppet crumbling to the ground. His skin felt on fire, as if it had been scrubbed raw, nerve-ends exposed, and feeling the fabric of the couch against it was too painful.

He picked up the bowl and was halfway through scarfing its contents down when he started caring. The soup was much appreciated to a growling, empty stomach, a state of being that Remus hardly even noticed anymore. It warmed up his insides, his hands, it soothed the dull ache on his knuckles. It felt nice. “I can look like death and be focused. I’m multifaceted like that.” He joked defensively, suddenly hyper aware that he must’ve looked like some kind of inhuman wild creature, lit up with bruises, all curled up around a bowl of soup, eating up as if he hadn’t seen food in the last month.

In hopes to regain some of his decency, he wiped at his mouth with the back of a hand and cleared his throat before he spoke again. “My mum used to make chicken soup. When I was sick, I mean. Did Lily tell you about this?” It was simply curiosity nagging at the back of his head, a tongue that found itself without much of a filter in the wake of so many wounds to lick. It’d be a funny coincidence if it hadn’t been Lily’s doing.

The dreaded request came – walk me through it – and Remus shoved another spoonful of soup into his mouth, to avoid answering for just a second longer. “Locked myself up in the cage. Turned.” His eyes focused on a spot on the wall, as he found he felt much less exposed if he didn’t have to look at Severus when he spoke about his turns. “It was… different than last time. Worse. I was aware of everything, had all my senses, but I couldn’t control it. Was like… taking a back seat to a first-person horror show, pretty much.” He knew he’d have to elaborate, bring out the details, Severus was too meticulous with his academic writing to let anything pass. But he took a lingering moment to breathe, and waited for more questions.

Severus waited for Lupin to be ready to speak, eyes taking in the littered bruises and wounds that he could see despite the baggy rumpled clothing. He came prepared with bruise salves and dittany, and made a mental note to produce them later before he left. 

When Lupin did speak it was with a defensive comment. Severus raised an eyebrow, but only to suppress a smile. The werewolf was clearly uncomfortable — as he was in most situations. Lupin seemed to interact with the world around him as if through an ill-fit bodysuit for skin, and it was more pronounced now than when he was surrounded by his friends. It was something that got under Severus’ skin when they were younger, when he looked down on people who couldn’t carry a conversation with confidence. In the past few months, however, Severus had gained a new appreciation for the werewolf’s hidden resilience. Then Lupin spoke about his mum. ‘ No, ’ he said in response to the question. He paused. ‘ My mum made chicken soup, too. When I got sick. She taught me how to … ’ He gestured vaguely with a pen towards the bowl of soup and the sliced loaf of bread. She taught him how to cook and bake, among other things. Some of his fondest memories were atop a stool in the simple kitchen at his Spinner’s End home. It was part of the reason the kitchen saw little to no renovation when Severus reclaimed the property two years ago, despite the rest of the house getting turned on its head.

Severus didn’t look at Lupin directly as he explained what happened. It was a poor attempt at leniency, averting his gaze so as not to lay the full weight of his attention on the man as he struggled to recount the events. They were not friends. But despite the invasive nature of his questions, Severus did not enjoy watching him struggle. He listened attentively. Took notes. When Lupin finished his rather short explanation, Severus pretended to consult his notes for longer to give him a moment to breathe. Then he asked his questions. ‘ Did the sharpness of your senses fluctuate throughout the period of transformation? Could you keep track of time accurately while transformed? And how well do you remember the events of that night? ’ 

@melancolialunar​

June 24th, 1984. Prewett Estate.

Severus stepped away from the meeting room where Prewett introduced the new changes to the rest of the team and went over the plan again, this time with Severus’ addition in mind. Severus had watched their stalwart and fearless leader with a skeptical eye. Doubtful, but not willing to voice his doubts only hours before they were meant to head out into the field. 

Gideon Prewett had a good track record as Team Lead, but that was before. And people didn’t always recover enough to retain their sensibilities in battle. But as Jones and Moody insisted, they could only know once he was out on the field. And he did agree to lead them, after all. That was a good sign. Severus would still keep an eye out, ready to pick up the slack as it happens, but he won’t object.

At least there was someone on their team that could carry their own weight. The thought, like a summons, brought Lupin to his line of sight, and Severus approached the werewolf with a nod. 

‘ Lupin, ’ he called, gesturing towards the amulet in the other’s hand. ‘ You’ve got something for me? ’

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."

@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. ’