Alastor

Alastor Moody. That's all you need to know.

[constxntvigilxnce]

aurorjohndawlish·:

John nodded dutifully as Alastor imparted his wisdom, though for the first time since he’d known the Auror, John wasn’t listening very intently. His mind was elsewhere, clouded with thoughts of betrayal, of the could haves, the should haves, and the would haves. Perhaps it was a waste to wallow in regret, but he had been blindsided by his partner’s actions, and John was determined to find some flaw in himself that would explain how he had been made into a fool. His own partner, a woman who had saved his life countless times over the years, who pushed him to be better, who had earned his trust totally and completely. Obviously she had played her part well, but no one could be so perfectly dishonest, and John blamed himself for falling for her tricks.

“Why did you?” John asked, still studying the drink in his hand. “Take the job, that is. I don’t suppose you’ve ever said before.” It was a bold question, bolder than John was usually willing to stray with the man he looked up to so. He supposed the fact his career might very well be drawing to a close emboldened him to ask, that and the liquid courage that burned warmly down his throat as he took another sip of his drink.

At Alastor’s question, John found his gaze flickering back to Charlotte’s desk, with the stacks of sorted papers across it’s surface, the drawers still hanging open after John ransacked each one meticulously. “Nope.” He said simply, his tone darkening. But John wouldn’t have found anything, would he? Not when Edward and Dom had already searched it, searched his desk too while they were at it. “I wonder if Edward and Dom did, though, considering they beat me to it.”

Why did you? A valid enough question, considering how much he liked to complain about having to be here. “You would suppose correct.” He answered gruffly, looking back down to the drink in his hand. The answer was simple enough to Alastor, but he wasn’t quite sure it would make as much sense to John. “Because it was asked of me.” He replied, taking another sip from his drink. That was the short answer, and the easier one. “And also because of Professor Dumbledore.” A longer, and more complicated answer. Long before there was ever Dark Lord or a You-Know-Who, there was still Grindelwald. Alastor was but a boy during his first rise to power, many years ago and it was during his fourth year of Hogwarts that he came to be defeated. Albus Dumbledore was only a Transfiguration Professor back then, but to a young Alastor Moody, he was everything and more. Albus was his friend now, but there was a time when Alastor looked up to him nearly as much as he did his own father. He couldn’t think of anybody that he held in higher regard.

Alastor titled his glass back and forth, watching the whiskey swirl to either side. He would need a refill soon enough. He glanced back to John, and then over at the papers on the desk. “They didn’t.” Moody answered smoothly, looking back. If they had found anything of interest, Moody would have heard about it. “I thought that you might have, though. You knew her better than any of us ever did.” A giant mistake on their part as leaders, he thought. He would take great care to ensure such a thing never happened again.

[constxntvigilxnce]

aurorjohndawlish·:

John stood patiently, careful to keep his hands in sight as he watched Alastor Moody inspect his glass expertly. Of course, anyone in the Auror Department could attest to how paranoid the famed dark wizard catcher truly was, but John didn’t think him as crazy as others might. It was obvious the man had enemies, and the fact he was alive was a testament to his perception. It only took a moment’s hesitation, the smallest lapse in judgement, and Alastor’s enemies could very well get the best of him. It was incredibly difficult to maintain such consistent surveillance in order to merely stay alive. John had often wondered if he would ever take on such high-profile cases that he, too, would be as paranoid one day. The thought nearly made him shudder.

He accepted the drink from Alastor, though John left it sitting on the table for a moment, eyeing it warily. John trusted Alastor Moody completely, but he wondered if this were some kind of test. Perhaps it might even be laced with veritaserum in an attempt to get a confession out of John regarding his potential involvement in Charlotte’s betrayal. Gently, he shifted the glass to swirl the golden liquid inside, contemplating the consistency as well as what he might have to lose if it were spiked with the truth-telling potion. It would only affirm his innocence, though he might forfeit his pride in return. Casually, John lifted the drink to his nose where he took a quick sniff, though he knew he wasn’t likely to detect anything. Alastor was too clever for that. Deciding that Alastor would find him more useful alive than dead, John lifted the drink to his lips and let the alcohol burn its way down his throat.

It was fairly strong, and John cleared his throat before answering. “Yes, sir.”

What was going through John Dawlish’s mind, Alastor wondered as he watched the man inspect his drink? He must be conflicted, there was no doubt in Alastor’s mind about that. He couldn’t imagine the shock, the betrayal, the self-doubt he would feel if he were to discover that Edward or Dom were working for the Death Eaters right underneath his nose. Their situations were different, no doubt. Edward and Dom had been his coworkers for going on two decades now. They weren’t young like Dawlish and Fawley. And yet, they used to be, once upon a time. There was no doubt that this would be a defining point in Dawlish’s career. Alastor made a mental note to see him through the other side, in the way only a mentor could. 

Yes, sir. The boy wasn’t feeling very talkative. Well, that was alright. Alastor could do the talking for him, for now anyways. “Nasty business.” He shook his head. “Makes me wonder why I even agreed to take this job. I’ve grown into an old man this year. Don’t ever take your youth for granted, boy, it sneaks away from you one day.” He sighed heavily, and took another long gulp from his glass of whiskey. It burned less going down his throat the second time, but just enough to make him close his eyes happily. 

He was quiet then, enjoying this one, solitary moment of peace. It ended all too soon as his eyes opened again. He glanced around, his gaze settling on Fawley’s desk, and the assortment of papers resting on the surface. John had likely been snooping. Understandable. He would have done the same. “Did you find anything interesting in her desk?” He asked, motioning with his drink.

[constxntvigilxnce]

aurorjohndawlish:

John straightened at the sight of Alastor Moody entering his cramped office, uncrossing his arms and instead folding them behind his back. He always made a special effort to be at his best in front of the legendary Auror. Alastor Moody was one of the most talented dark wizard catchers of all time, already at a relatively young age, and John Dawlish admired his work greatly. As an up-and-coming dark wizard catcher himself, he had followed Alastor Moody’s career closely and had spent every second with his more seasoned colleague that he could get, absorbing the best tricks of the trade. While John was accomplished himself, and quite confident in his abilities, he knew that he still had a lot to learn. He hoped that he could learn it all from Alastor.

With a start, John realized that his aspirations of further training with the famous Auror were likely over after the incident with Charlotte. Alastor Moody was a bit on the paranoid side to say the least, meaning he found enemies and traitors around ever corner and lurking in every shadow. Even if he did not suspect John of disloyalty, his failure to identify Charlotte as a traitor was likely a blow to his credentials, no longer the protege Alastor might have found him to be. If that were the case, John determined to prove him wrong. In fact, he determined to prove them all wrong.

“Yes, sir.” John nodded at the piece of wisdom passed along at the mention of locking doors. “I will be sure to do that going forward.” It wasn’t that John hadn’t heard of such a thing before, but he hadn’t expected to face any enemies at Hogwarts. At least, not the sort where a locked door would be the only thing standing between John Dawlish and death. He also refrained from mentioning what a locked door might look like at a time like this, where he was under such suspicion and scrutiny. He hadn’t wanted anyone to suspect him of hiding anything. Silently, John slowly pulled his wand from his pocket and grabbed a couple of quills from Charlotte’s desk, easily transfiguring them into a couple of tumblers before sliding them toward his colleague. “Will these do, sir?”

Alastor reached for the two tumblers slid in his direction by Dawlish. It was no secret to most that Alastor Moody was one of the most paranoid aurors to walk the halls of the Ministry. He’d gotten in trouble (on more than one occasion) for allowing his suspicious nature to get the best of him. In comparison to how he treated most people, Alastor rather liked John Dawlish. Still, it didn’t matter how much he liked anyone. Alastor had learned a long time not to trust anything that someone had given him to drink, even if he asked for it. Albus Dumbledore himself would find that Alastor still sniffed his offered drinks questioningly. He lifted them up, and spun it around in front of his eyes. When he was certain that he couldn’t spot anything, he brought it up to his nose for a long, drawn in sniff. And when he was sure he couldn’t smell anything, he swiped a finger through the glass. When that too turned out to be safe, he finally yanked the top off of his whiskey, and began to pour them into the glass. “That’ll do.”

He poured a moderate amount for the both of them-- more than a relaxer, but enough to get them drunk after two or three. He slid one back to Dawlish and then brought his own up to his mouth. He took a sip, eyes fluttering closed as the whiskey burned down his throat into his chest. He sighed, setting his glass back down. He lowered his body down into the seat just next to him, crossing one leg over the other. “I needed that.” He quipped, shaking his head. “What a bloody awful few weeks, eh, son?” He asked.

[ameliasusanbones]

mr moody

where: alastor moody’s office when: march 2nd, 2:46 pm who: amelia Bones and @constxntvigilxnce

Apparently, asking your parents to answer one measly little question on an application for what might be the most important position you have ever held in your sixteen years on the planet is “inappropriate” and “an obvious display of nepotism” and “not fair to the other candidates” and “how would you feel if someone else was given an unfair advantage like this, Mia”. So. Amelia had to do the next best thing. If she couldn’t go to her parents for advice, perhaps she could go to her parent’s coworkers! After all, most of them knew her pretty well and if Amelia was being honest, she was pretty adept at getting adults to like her. None of the Aurors seemed to be in their offices save for Alastor Moody. Amelia didn’t know him all too well but now was the perfect time to rectify that. She confidently ducked her head inside his office, clutching her application close to her chest.

“Hello, Mr Moody! May I come in?”

[constxntvigilxnce]

It was most definitely too early for Alastor to have begun drinking, but he had decided that he didn’t give a damn about that! He was frustrated, damn it, and he was tired of being in this bloody castle. It had been a long time since Alastor had roamed these halls, and he was dismayed to find that he was back again, and for so long too! It had been months, for Christ sake! Now, Alastor Moody was a solider through and through, and he would stay where he was commanded to. But this was just getting miserable. And if there was one thing his father taught him about this job, it was that miserable moments required a drink. He slammed the bottle down on top of his paperwork, and bent down to grab a glass, when he was rudely interrupted by the voice a girl he hardly knew. 

He lifted his head, setting down his glass. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at the sight of her slipping inside. He recognized her as the daughter of his boss, Edward Bones, and wondered what on earth she might want with him. He’d expected Edgar to come visit, what with their mutual secret, not Amelia. “Amelia Bones!” He said sharply. He pointed at the door, “Shut the door behind you, girl. The walls have ears, but the door makes it more difficult to hear.” Without a single bit of shame, Alastor reached for his bottle of brandy (half-empty after his previous encounter with John), and poured a sizeable amount into his glass. “What did you want?” He asked, looking back up to face Amelia. “Something good, I hope?”

[aurorjohndawlish]

Who: John Dawlish & Anyone  When: February 16th, 1978 Where: John Dawlish and Charlotte Fawley’s makeshift office 

John leafed through a pile of papers, pacing back and forth across the small, makeshift office space he had shared with his ex-partner, Charlotte Fawley, for months on assignment at Hogwarts. They’d joked about the broom closet they’d been stuck in at first, but over the many weeks cramped in that tight space together, the novelty had quickly worn off. How was it that John had spent so much time with her and yet never saw her betrayal coming? He knew what the others must think, that he was in on it the whole time, but he wasn’t. It was with a fury that he rummaged through her drawers and files, looking for something, anything that might point to why she had done this. It wasn’t likely that he would find anything, Charlotte was too clever and much too careful to leave evidence behind. But still, John searched.

Hearing a knock at the door, John glanced up and sighed. Whoever sought him out, he figured it couldn’t be good. The students would hardly trust him now, let alone his coworkers. If anything, he figured he faced further interrogation or accusation. “Door’s open” He called, setting Charlotte’s papers down on the surface of her desk, leaning against it, and crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

[constxntvigilxnce]

Alastor Moody, for better or for worse, was a solider. And being a soldier meant following the order of one’s commanding officer. When Edward Bones had informed Alastor, early morning on November 1st, that he would be indefinitely stationed at Hogwarts, he had taken it as a challenge. In fact, it hadn’t even seemed like the worst idea he’d ever heard of. It would give him an opportunity to protect the innocent students, but more importantly, it would give him a means to serve Albus Dumbledore more thoroughly. However, that had been a long time ago, and Alastor had long since decided that his skills would be better suited outside of the walls of the ancient, stone castle. It had been months, and every single lead that he or his colleagues had stumbled upon, had eventually led to a dead end. And now one of their own had gone turncoat, and a student had been captured. It was enough to make any strong man thirst for a nice glass of brandy. 

It was with this in mind, that led to Alastor making his way to the office of John Dawlish. Dawlish was a good soldier, a talented one too, but he tended to be a bit on the cocky side. However, he reckoned that if Dawlish had a good enough mentor, that could be worked on. Even so, Alastor didn’t think his life had gotten so pathetic that he needed to resort to drinking alone. He would save that for another decade or so. Besides, Dawlish had been here with Alastor since November as well, and Fawley had been his partner. If there was anyone who also needed a drink, it was him. 

“You ought to keep your doors locked.” Alastor announced gruffly, slamming the door shut behind him. To prove his point, he tapped his wand to the door, and the sound of it locking into place clicked throughout the room. “The second they take to unlock the door might be the second that makes the difference between life or death. Never forget that, you understand me boy?” Alastor cleared his throat, and then pointed his bottle of brandy in Dawlish’s direction. “Get some glasses for us, will you? I’m in need of a stiff drink.”

[alionheartedprig]

Intermission Is Over

[mm-mckinnon-blog]

aurorjackiechittock:

the-fabianprewett:

chvrityburbage:

gidecns:

Gideon was not an actor, but he was also not not an actor. The truth of the situation was that he was dramatic, and had a talent for blowing situations out of proportion; mostly by accident — like what happened on Halloween between him and Amycus. For this moment, however, he would try and do his best to blow something out of proportion on purpose, to help his friends get out of the castle, and to have a successful mission with the Order. “I’m ready, brother.” He nodded, before letting out a laugh at his request for him not to hit the floor. Unfortunately, they had more than enough actual experience in this area. 

As soon as Fabian started replicating the look of his symptoms, Gideon scooted forward — hands outstretched and a feigned expression of worry on his face. He could tell what Fabian was doing was faked, but others in the Great Hall likely would not, he was very convincing in his act. “FABIAN!” He cried out dramatically as his brother’s body went limp and he flopped off the bench towards the floor, while immediately throwing out his arms to catch him. “Somebody help! My brother — he’s having an episode!” 

@chvrityburbage

Charity had kept quiet throughout the Order meeting, which was something she definitely wasn’t used to, but the group had formulated a great plan together and she’d agreed to take part in it the best she could. That meant she’d help sell Fabian’s performance and draw as much attention to it as she could. She had skills in quite a few performing arts- singing and playing instruments were things she could do well. But acting? She had no idea how good she’d be, but the sheer determination for their mission to succeed fueled her. She didn’t stand too close to the twins, but kept an eye on Fabian so she’d know when to jump into action. 

Once Fabian began his act, Charity found herself both impressed by how realistic it looked and shocked by how in pain he seemed. This was when Fabian was faking it; how bad was it when it was real? She couldn’t dwell on that, though, and immediately put on a concerned expression, which wasn’t hard to do at all. She noticed students trying to crowd around to get a look, and ran towards them. “Stay back! Don’t get too close!” The entire point was to have everyone look at Fabian and not anywhere else, but it was obvious that even if everyone wasn’t near him, their eyes would still be glued on the episode. “Aurors?! Professors?! There’s an emergency!” She yelled as loud as she possibly could. 

@the-fabianprewett

Playing sick was not something Fabian did often. He had spent his life sick enough and had missed too many things to count so that when he was finally feeling well, he was loathe to miss anything else. Pretending to be sick, however, could have its uses. Over the years, Fabian had learned how to fake being sick well enough to get people to leave him alone if he so desired, but not so sick that he would be taken to St. Mungo’s. This was easily the first time he had ever attempted to fake an episode so extreme in order to draw the attention of on-lookers. In such real events, he normally tried to keep as still and as quiet as possible, the eyes of so many watching him writhe in pain on the floor made him even more uncomfortable if that were possible. Now, he wanted them to look and to make that happen, he would have to give them something to watch. The eyes of everyone in the Great Hall would have to be turned toward him if his friends had a chance to slip out unnoticed.

Gasping as Gideon lowered him to the floor, Fabian cried out as if in pain and curled in on himself. “Pl-please” he begged through clenched teeth, writhing on the floor as if looking for a position to relieve himself of the pain he supposedly felt. Normally when he had an episode, the slightest touch was utter agony. “Don’t touch me” he flinched as he heard the scuffle of people rushing toward him, but with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, he couldn’t be sure whose footsteps they were. Students? Teachers? Aurors? Fabian felt a bit guilty, just as he always did, for scaring everyone. It was unfair to draw upon their fears, their compassion, and their curiosity in such a way. Still, his actions were to serve a higher purpose, and he quickly pushed the guilt aside. Over the frightened chatter, he heard Charity’s voice ring out clear as she directed everyone away from him. He allowed her to call for help, continuing to writhe on the floor, breathing deeply but crying out every so often to keep up the show.

@aurorjackiechittock​

Jackie was - probably wrongly - excited to have been one of the Aurors chosen to come to Hogwarts and deal with the crisis here. It was a tragedy, of course, and the thought that one of their own had done this … well, she didn’t like to think about that. But it was a mark of trust that she had been given the orders as well, and she was excited for that. Her arrival came significantly later than the rest of her colleagues; she’d been on another assignment and got injured, and the Healers at St. Mungo’s were slow to release her back to duty. One of the finally saw reason, and in what felt like far too long a time, she was finally back at the castle, hurrying into the Great Hall where she hoped to find Moody or Edward Bones. Someone who would have instructions for her.

What she saw instead was a small group of students congregated together, which was usually a worrying sign and only doubly so now that things had gone so badly. Jackie shifted her path to the students, pushing through them to the boy on the ground. “What’s happened?” The boy seemed to be in a very serious condition and she frowned, glancing around to see if there was an auror nearby. Motioning to the closest student, she said quickly, “You go find an auror and tell them it’s an emergency. Everyone else, keep back.”

@mm-mckinnon​

Marlene would have much rather been the one leaving, but what case did she have to make? Yes, she was always eager to fight, but as her friends had started to tell her, perhaps she was a bit too quick with her wand. They always said it nicely, in a way that implied they trusted her, just not with something as serious as this. When stealth and finesse were involved, no, Marlene was not the first person you would think of, but likely the last. She was reliable on some accounts, the helpful ones here being the absurd loudness of her voice, her ability to get heated over just about anything, and love of a spectacle. 

While she wasn’t too far away, the moment she heard Gideon’s voice, her feet sprung to action. Even in the way she pushed through the other students garnered attention, her boots a little extra forceful today. “Move, that’s my friend, move!” The urgency was thick in her voice, loud and gritty with emotions she hoped would be perceived as frightened. She didn’t have to dig too deep to find it. Arriving just after Charity, Marlene hovered close, putting a hand on the girl’s back to indicate she had arrived. “An auror? How about a few more than that? Can they bloody do their job for once here, another student is clearly hurt.” Marlene snapped at the student who had been directed to find somebody, taking the job upon herself. This was laying it on a little thick, but divisive words were powerful words, and they would draw attention. “You, what have you done today but stand there?” She gestured toward the nearest, burliest auror she could find.  @constxntvigilxnce​

[constxntvigilxnce]

Alastor Moody had grown to resent his role at Hogwarts, feeling like he was playing the role of bodyguard when he should be out playing the role of soldier. Alastor knew that there was more to his being here than just playing Auror. He was Albus Dumbledore’s man in the field, the person who reported back to him with even the smallest of updates. What Edward Bones and his plans were, what the aurors were doing outside in the field, and what they were doing here inside of Hogwarts. His role was one of vital information, and he understood the importance of that, but Alastor Moody had always been more of a do-er rather than a talk-er, and he was beginning the feel the strain of not doing what he wanted. However, a job was a job, and like it or not, it must be done.

When screams rang out through the Great Hall, Alastor wasn’t in the room. He’d been on patrol. However, when he stepped back inside, he did notice a crowd of people, surrounding someone that he could not see. Scowling, he pushed his way through a group students, arriving just in time to hear some mouthy Gryffindor girl throw cheek in Chittock’s direction. Then, the girl had the audacity to turn her attitude in his direction. Moody stomped in her direction, pointing a finger at her as he snapped, “You mind your tongue, you brat.” Damn Gryffindors, and their stupid bloody attitude. He whirled around, catching sight of the Prewett twins screaming together from their position in the middle of the crowd. “Hey!” He barked, pointing to the troublemaker twin, Gideon. “We need to get your brother to the Hospital Wing before he makes even more of a scene.” Alastor glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of Icarus standing a few ways back. “Icarus,” He called, “Come help me get this boy.”

@icarus-pyrites

[aurorphoebeparkinson]

aurcrbella:

aurora-rsnkrtz:

Who: Aurors

When: Wednesday, Feb 15th, Morning

Where:  Entrance of the Great Hall

Aurora stepped into Hogwarts, looking at the old structure, she was not expecting that actually, the place was remaining in a chaos. With her Shrunken next to her and with some bruises from the other mission she needed to participate, after a group of Aurors was seriously injured. Bones asked for reinforcements inside of Hogwarts, and to come the fast they could during that morning. Always expecting the worst – that’s why they call her anywhere around the country – especially when the brief message was about a Death Eater’s attack during the night. She saw some of the kids worried about the situation, others crying and some with blood on their hands “Boss,” Said Lesuke paying attention around and being interesting quiet for a Shrunken head “I think this will be piece of cake comparing to the poison of the last week.” They giggle around themselves, almost getting Aurora to smile too.

She didn’t care about the kids – none of them were hers – but that could not be related to the possibility of one of them being really strong with magic and probably had created the situation. In front of the big doors, she supposed was the Great Hall, she scanned around, looking for the others when she saw Arabella and Phoebe. With confident steps, she had her eyes narrowed “Where is Bones? I hope this invitation to return to a school is something important. I left a group of 6 men in the middle of a battle at the north of Ireland.” Her voice was intense, deep and visually concerned. “Oh.”

@aurcrbella

Out of all the things Arabella would’ve expected to happen after her engagement, being called into Hogwarts as reinforcements after an attack was not one of them. She already knew she’d consider the night prior one of the best nights of her life. The proposal had been cliché and a little sappy, but that was just how she liked it. The fact that it had been on Valentine’s Day also added to the lightheartedness that was so hard to find lately, especially with a job as an Auror. She was going to be marrying Phoebe, a thought Arabella was still incredibly excited about. However,  that’d all been interrupted by a call into work- to Hogwarts no less. She always made an effort to devote herself to her work, but this was possibly the worst timing ever. With their celebration cut short, she and Phoebe headed to Hogwarts as fast as they could. As they walked in, Arabella scanned the Great Hall, looking over the children either sitting alone or in groups. She knew the welfare of the students must not have been good ever since Hogsmeade. 

She was mostly looking for the other aurors though, and quickly spotted Aurora heading towards them. Shrugging, Arabella answered her question, “I don’t know. He should be around here somewhere. I believe there was an attack on a few students. It must be important if we were all called in.” Really, Arabella wouldn’t have minded going to Hogwarts if it had just been a little later. They deserved a celebration, especially while in the middle of a war. Although, it was a war, which meant there was nothing that could be done. “About the worst time to come here, though.” It seemed right to actually tell everyone once they were all together, but the complaint escaped before she could stop it. 

@aurorphoebeparkinson

There were a number of inconvenient aspects to being an Auror, and Phoebe had learned to take most of them in stride: long nights, few holidays, the barely-veiled disapproval from her family, it had all simply become part of her life. Because there were wonderful parts of her job as well, such as when she put a dark wizard away, or knowing she had prevented harm befalling someone, or the chance to meet Arabella Anderson. Those things more than made up for the inconveniences. However, nothing had been quite so frustrating as being pulled away from home within hours of proposing to her girlfriend, before they even had a chance to properly celebrate the engagement. At least she and Bella were together still - it would have been worse if only one of them had been called in.

“Edward is most likely in the Great Hall. That seems to be a good starting point, if nothing else. It’s a central location and I’m sure they brought the students here. If he’s not here, then we’ll have to find a professor to help us.” God if that didn’t make her feel like a student again. Her brow furrowed slightly at Aurora’s statement - as if Edward Bones would call them to Hogwarts if it weren’t vital. “I’m sure Edward wouldn’t have called us here if it weren’t vital. I do agree, Bella,that the timing could be better,” she said, with a smile in the direction of her fiancee. Her gaze dropped to the ring on her finger momentarily, and when she looked back up, she spotted Alex on her way to join them. “Alex, have you seen Edward yet?”

@auror-alexfawley

[auror-alexfawley]

Alex had already been in a bad mood before she was summoned to Hogwarts. Even though she graduated a few years ago, she felt like she visited the castle much to often. There always seemed to be something happening there, and she couldn’t help but wish the death eaters would choose somewhere else to attack. Then again, it wasn’t always death eaters who were causing problems. But, they should at least leave kids out of it. 

“You just watch me come in, how would I know where he is?” She rolled her eyes at Phoebe. Then again, she couldn’t help but notice her glance and spotted the ring. She smirked a bit, figuring she was probably just frustrated that they’d obviously been interrupted. “Maybe Moody knows what’s going on,” Alex sighed when she saw him approaching the group that was forming. “Has Edward talking to you at all about what exactly is going on?” 

@constxntvigilxnce

[constxntvigilxnce]

Officially, Alastor Moody was at Hogwarts under the direction of his supervisor, Mr. Edward Bones. Unofficially, Alastor Moody was at Hogwarts under the orders of Albus Dumbledore, who wanted his aid in weeding out the students in the school that made such atrocities as this as possible. Some folks called him paranoid, but that was all hogwash. His supposed “paranoia” had saved his life more times than he could count. Some of his colleagues were inclined to coddle the children in the school, believing them to be innocent kids without an evil bone in their body. He slammed open the doors of the Great Hall, casting a suspicious look all around him. Every single one of these damn milk-drinkers was a potential Dark Wizard in the making, and he wasn’t going to lose sight of that, not ever.

He surveyed the room, taking note of the different groupings of students. Who sat with who, who spoke with who. Those things were important for someone like him to know. During this survey, he settled his eyes on some of his aurors, huddled in a group together. He walked over there in a stride, arriving just in time to hear Alex speak. “That’s Mr. Bones to you, Fawley.” He barked, his voice deep and gruff. “I’ve spoke with Professor Dumbledore, but I haven’t seen Edward yet. He’ll be here soon, the man knows how to do his job.” He shifted his weight, looking back at the students all around them. He narrowed his eyes at a group of Slytherin boys, before turning to face his colleagues. “Have any of these students been checked for Dark artifacts at all?” He doubted it. Everyone was always so careless. “As far as I’m concerned, they’re the prime suspects in this investigation.” Sensing movement from behind him, Alastor whirled around, making eye contact with Dom Marchand, “Dom, have the students been checked for Dark Artifacts yet? I don’t trust the lot of them to not have something hidden.”

@dom-marchand