𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚙: 𝙹𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝟸𝟺𝚝𝚑, 𝟷𝟿𝟾𝟸
𝙻𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝙶𝚘𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚌’𝚜 𝙷𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜, ‘𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖’
𝙰𝚟𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢: 𝙲𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 @the-shackled-king
The room was a haphazard mess of articles taped to the windows, documents strewn in messy piles, coffee cups in various states of emptiness. There was something familiar about the mess, he always worked better in chaos, or as he liked to call it ‘organised’ chaos. He’d called a meeting with Kingsley, if felt awfully formal for them. There’d been a time when he would have simply barged into the other man’s quarters and spoken his mind freely, but it almost felt as though they were back to square one these days.
Alastor was the last person to judge a person by who their parents were- or had been. It had taken him months to trust Kingsley in those early days, not really because of who his father had been but rather because of his family name. He’d given the other auror a wide berth over the last couple of weeks. Part of him hoped that the stagnancy would shake the other man into answering that call to action that fuelled Alastor. With the vigil happening tomorrow, he found that their time was running out, they needed a plan. As he waited for the other man to join him, he began to sift through the latest correspondence they’d received from inside the ministry. More missing persons, more ‘random’ attacks. It was getting worse.
