#malcolmgreengrass

[alecto-the-fury]

Where: Alecto’s apartment, Saturday evening

Who: Malcolm Greengrass ( @lonexstars )

Alecto had spent the last several hours working, and also panicking. Those were her usual modes, though, so none of the anxiety was apparent on the outside. By the time the knock on her door came she was fairly sure she’d settled into a calm facade, expression barely twitching as she swung open the door wearing nothing but one of her long plum dressing gowns, embroidered with deep green and gold flowers, and lace stilettos. Well, there was some lacey frippery beneath it passing for lingerie, but she wasn’t planning on flashing the whole street. 

“Malcolm,” she grinned, tapping her nails against the doorway. God, but Malcolm Greengrass was pretty. No, stop, don’t think about how pretty he is you’ll make yourself panic again. “Come in. There are drinks in the kitchen.”

[softboi-malfoy]

Little Victories

Lucius was out in public, and he was in a good mood. It was a rare thing, but even the walking stick in his left hand- the unfortunate collateral damage of his run-in with Valerija Novak and a brick wall- didn’t dim his spirits. Narcissa was on his arm and beautiful, his treacherous ex-translator was in jail, and it wouldn’t be long until Remus Lupin was fired from his post at Hogwarts. There weren’t even any pressing international crises that he had to worry about at work. 

When he caught sight of Malcolm he strode over with an uncharacteristic grin. 

“Congratulations,” he said, tipping his glass in the man’s direction. “On the gala, and the recent Prophet, and your daughter. I apologize that Narcissa and I haven’t yet had time to pay our proper compliments.”

@themalcolmgreengrass​

[nicholas-chastain]

Time’s Up

Merde merde merde merde merde.

Nic had never used polyjuice before but he was fairly certain that tingling behind his head and along the edges of his fingers wasn’t a good sign. The party seemed to have fallen apart anyway and Nic was no good to anyone if his cover was blond in the middle of a dance floor.

He slipped toward the edge of the Great Hall as quickly and quietly as he could in heels- which was neither quick nor quiet, unfortunately- and kicked them off as soon as he was in an empty hall, picking them up and practically jogging to find an empty room. The strange feeling increased. Nic really really really didn’t want to still be in this dress when he transformed back into himself.

When he found an empty room he didn’t bother looking closely except to ensure that he was alone, pulling out a backup of clothing from his enchanted clutch, and then using his wand to neatly undo every lace on the back of his dress. It fell to the floor and he kicked it aside, leaving Basiliso’s pale body clad only in her underthings. He’d just picked up a black sweater from his pile of clothing and was about to pull it on when the door creaked open behind him.

Ah, fuck.

“Have you ever heard of knocking first?” he snapped, voice still high and imperiously English, red hair swishing as he glared at the intruder with what he hope was enough angry confidence for them not to question what precisely he was doing.

@themalcolmgreengrass

[editor-in-strange-archived]

Rodolphus watched with great satisfaction as Remus Lupin and Sirius Black’s apartment went up in a burst of flames. He wished he could stick around to see the look on that annoying werewolf’s face; alas, he and Malcolm had done what they came to do, and there was no use in taking a further risk. 

They reconvened at Lestrange Manor, having doffed their masks and robes, and Rodolphus had the house elves open one of the better wines from the cellar. Madonna purred and wound between his ankles as he raised his glass to Malcolm. Might as well give the boy a moment to enjoy his success before Rodolphus killed the mood. 

"Congratulations,” he said. “On your recent victories.” 

Not only had he managed to apprehend Alastor Moody’s husband- Rodolphus was still annoyed about being kept in the dark but it was, objectively, still impressive- but he’d gotten the definitive names of certain order members. Sylvanie Fortescue was dead, and they’d just left Remus Lupin and Sirius Black homeless. It was quite a lot of chaos in a short period of time.

@themalcolmgreengrass

[alex-moody-church]

The Bad Samaritan

Alex woke with a shuddering gasp. The last thing he remembered was unlocking the door to the Cake Walk that morning but now he was surrounded by.... stone? And darkness. The floor beneath him was rough and hard and as his eyes adjusted he realized there were bars just ahead of him. He wasn’t just in a cell, he was in a dungeon, and the thick stone combined with his heavy breathing, the quick pace of his heart, made him truly deaf to any sound that may have been coming toward him. When he scrabbled around his wand was gone but he didn’t panic yet. He’d always been good with wandless magic. It was difficult but he could do it, and his first thought, as it always was, was Alastor. He closed his eyes and summoned up a happy memory- he and Alastor’s first real kiss, on their fifth date when Alex got so flustered he didn’t give the other man any warning and ended up locking lips with him while they were in the middle of doing dishes, because he’d waited long enough to do it- and whispered “Expecto patronum” while making a gesture with his hands, helping the spell flow easier without the conduit of his wand.

A great silver German Shepard sprang forth in the empty air around him, gave him one long look, and bounded away, its light slowly fading into nothing. Alex didn’t know where he was or who had taken him, but his patronus would find Alastor and give him a simple message, “I am alive. I love you.” It would have to be enough for now, while he figured out what to do.

@themalcolmgreengrass

[softboi-malfoy-archived-blog]

Upstaged

Lucius’ gaze followed Narcissa through the crowd. No matter who he was talking to, or how far the dances separated them, some part of him was always looking for her. Ever since he learned she was pregnant it was like a sixth sense for him, always filled with joy but also worrying. She looked so small all of a sudden and today was her birthday, a reminder that she was also young, even if she was undoubtedly the stronger of the two of them. Anxiety curled in his gut but he refused to let it ruin a nice evening, where he’d gotten to dance with his wife and lavish her with affection, like a goblin-made tiara from the Malfoy vaults. 

Tonight was also the first public appearance of the newlywed Greengrass’s, and when Lucius saw Diana’s obviously pregnant state he’d sought the man out along the edges of the room. 

“Malcolm!” he said, expression quirking with a small smile. “How was your honeymoon? I’ve just seen Diana- congratulations.”

@themalcolmgreengrass

[alecto-the-fury]

Where: Hogwarts, 9:20pm

Who: Malcolm Greengrass ( @lonexstars )

Alecto tottered out of the castle as steadily as she could given her refusal to remove her shoes and go barefoot, even though it would have been safer. Her hair had fallen completely out of its artfully messy arrangement and there were already bruises forming darkly against her golden forearms where she’d fallen upwards from the dungeon stairs. Everywhere were people and lights; she squinted until she saw someone she was reasonably sure she knew.

“Do you have my keys?” she asked Malcolm, one hand braced against her hip to minimize the swaying. She was completely oblivious to the officer trying to catch her through the crowd, and who’d been trying to get her attention since she first stepped blithely over the yellow caution tape from the *wrong side* of the crime scene.

[nicholas-chastain]

Overconfident and Under-prepared

Nic couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help a lot of things, honestly. His hands twitched and his magic had a mind of its own sometimes. Even when he was doing his best acting, sometimes he said things that were neither productive nor good. 

So when he stepped into Greengrass manor- wearing torn black jeans and a tailored waistcoat the rich red of a fine wine- and saw the chandelier. Well. Who could blame him? There was no-one in the entryway to see him as he lifted his wand and loosened the chandelier a hair, watching as it swayed precariously. 

He tucked the wand away again, but as he moved further into the house his hands drifted against things, and every so often one would end up in his pocket, only to be deposited elsewhere. Were all rich people this cavalier about security? 

When he finally found his host he leaned against the doorframe, giving the man a curious look. 

“Le Renard, at your service, Monsieur Greengrass.”

@themalcolmgreengrass