Madeyed-andmoody:

@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? ’

@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.

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.

Evan nodded when Severus went on about Theo, face paling. He would have been about to start working on the serious injuries if it weren’t for knowing he had said he would give an update. His gaze stuck to Theo until he reached the point of explaining his next steps in regards to treating Lily.

“Parchment of ailments is in the top drawer of the desk — two pages worth,” He murmured then pointed toward the desk. “London got met with an explosion. Evans appears to have gotten the brunt of it. Phoenix tears have been administered and the broken bones have been reset. I was going to take care of the cosmetic part of things once certain the tears were successful. It’s been about ten minutes since using them.” He pressed his teeth together to suppress the worried look that seemed desperate to appear. “Original plan was to keep her under for the evening to give her body a chance to rest. The tears may accelerate things a little. I’ve only ever used them on external injuries but a few drops by mouth seemed like the best call so I am uncertain of what to expect. If you think there’s something I may have missed… I wouldn’t have suggested switching if I didn’t trust you.”

Anyone but Theodosia being brought in, and he would have let Severus work on them. “She’s stable for now and that’s the most I can ask for. I wouldn’t have been able to move her to St. Mungo’s with the condition she was in when Bones and Lovegood brought her in.”

Severus took the parchment from the drawer and listened intently to Rosier’s updates as he read the report. Again the cold and distant panic beat against his ears from far away as if through a body of water. 

London got met with an explosion. Evans appears to have gotten the brunt of it. 

‘ Phoenix tears, ’ Severus muttered. He looked at Lily, his lips pressed together in a flat line, teeth gritting helplessly. He looked at Rosier as the report wound down and the man said that he trusted Severus. He didn’t miss the hesitance, the unspoken don’t make me regret trusting you that followed the tail end of those words. ‘ Of course, ’ said Severus with a brisk nod. ‘ I’ll keep an eye on her. ’ He moved to her bedside, the parchment crinkling in his hand with how hard he gripped it. 

He cast diagnostic spells of his own, read their results, tracked the progress of the Phoenix tears. He stood rigidly by her bedside, fingertips touching her wrist, feeling for a pulse. He watched and waited. It was all he could do.

End.

Severus let Potter push his hand off, taking a step back himself and setting his collar back to rights. He glared at Rosier when he mentioned Lily, lips curling in pure disgust at being chastised using her name, before he looked away. He merely scoffed and rolled his eyes when Potter pushed past him, he resolved not to be provoked into another physical altercation, once had already been enough.

Then Potter rounded on him. Looking for someone to blame, to fight, to lash out on. Severus stepped into the role like it was made for him.

He turned to Evan and gave him a commiserating look, as if to say, ‘Can you believe this guy?’ And turned back to Potter like a shark that scented blood. ‘ Ah, that still bothers you, doesn’t it? That I was welcomed into the fold and yet you still struggle to find your place again months after your miraculous return to your people! But you can’t possibly be welcomed when all you’ve done is pick fights and throw temper tantrums like a child, yes?’ Head cocked to the side, Severus approached his opponent in slow and measured steps, the corners of his lips lifted slightly in a sharp smirk. Repressed rage beat against his chest in a steady thrum. ‘ You’ve been nothing but a liability. You’ve done nothing but get in everyone’s way. You’re difficult, and you make things difficult. Everyone here is busy or injured, but we’ve all got to stop whatever we’re doing because James Bloody Potter has to process his feelings first! ’

@healerrosier

healerrosier​:

wrongdeor​:

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 

____________

Things were going fine with the addition of Theo added into the mix of patients he had to deal with. Evan could manage his emotions well enough in front of Severus and unconscious Lily and Theo. That much was a given even though he was truly ready to find some place to go scream as a way of letting go of some of his pent up anxious energy and make it clear that his trying to think everything was fine was totally ineffective.

He hesitated when it came to casting the diagnostic spell, not used to seeing Theo look so fragile. One deep breath in an attempt at keeping the nervousness pooling in his stomach at bay then he cast it. A rather alarmed “What the fuck? That can’t be right,” escaped from his lips mere seconds before James arrived.

Evan released an exasperated sigh and raised an eyebrow at the two. Unexpectedly and unsurprisingly, a scuffle — he would label it as such for now — ensued and he was left throwing a look of disappointment at the two. Disappointed yet not bothered enough to reach for his wand and properly threaten to separate them. He wouldn’t admit it but the change of pace and something else to focus on was a welcome distraction. “Be careful of the shelves,” Evan winced. “Severus said it better than I would have, James. My usual reminder that I will not be healing either of you if it comes down to injuring yourselves over…” He trailed off a moment and made a face. “Whatever this is. This is hardly the behavior Theo or Lily would approve of given the circumstances.” @perniciouspotter

As quickly as James had gotten the upperhand, he lost it. Suddenly, Severus was on him, pulling him by the scruff of his shirt to be slammed against the wall. James let out a short, pained breath as the weight of it hit him, his wrist suddenly throbbing even though it hadn’t bothered him all day. He took Snape’s insult as a hypothetical question and shoved at their hand until he was pushing it aside.

“Get the fuck off me,” he said, not quiet as requested and quite hypocritically. James turned his head to look at Evan, narrowing his eyes. Of course they’d bloody well stick together. James almost retorted who gives a fuck about what Theo thinks? back to him, but that was a surefire way to get him kicked out, so he just righted himself and glared at both wix before stepping around Severus, shoving their shoulder on the way despite himself.

Hey, at least he was being quiet now? He stopped short a moment later as his eyes caught with Lily’s body in the infirmary cot. She looked bruised and body and fragile in a way he’d never seen before. His hands started shaking and he could feel that lump in his throat again. He swallowed, pushed it back - he would not fucking cry here, not with Snape standing a foot away - and let that now-familiar rage take over.

He rounded on Evan. “What the fuck are you just standing there for? Aren’t you going to help her?” He looked back at Severus. “And you - if you’re so fucking perfect, so- so capable that you can murder Muggleborns and then be fucking welcomed into the Order after, why don’t you do something!” She was going to die, she was going to die, oh fuck was she going to die?

@wrongdeor​

Something wasn’t right, was Moody’s first thought. Something wasn’t right because he’d just vast a quick-healing charm and the blood wasn’t stopping. But, no time to think of that now. He needed to apparate out. If he didn’t they’d –

Two things happened at once. Blood dripdripdripped off Moody’s arms, down his chest, as he stumbled backward. A hand grabbed roughly for his shoulder and then they were gone, the dizziness and the nauseous lurch of an unprepared apparition taking him by surprise. If he’d been of any around mind right now, Alastor would have snapped at the younger wix about being splinched.

Instead, Alastor Moody came out of the apparition and stumbled into an unfamiliar house (not the estate, the woods were wrong and the landing area was different, much like where one could be stretched too thin, like jam across too much toast) in an unfamiliar place (sounds were different, the birds and the creatures outside sounding off like scuttling little things instead of great, gallumping beasts of wizards and witches at all hours of the day and night) and slumped against the wall. When he slides down it, unable to follow behind Snape for fear of falling, there’s a streak of crimson.

“Well. Can’t say ’M all that comfortable,” he rasps out, a shaky laugh, fingers curling unsuccessfully around his bleeding wounds. “Picked up a curse, it seems.”

Severus looked back at the other man’s words. Crimson red painted the wall and dripped a puddle onto the wooden floor. He strode back, knelt beside Moody, and examined the injury that caused the bleeding. A long, crisp line cut from Moody’s chest up to his shoulder. An upward stroke, thinning towards the end, like the tip of a sword. Severus’ lips pressed into a flat, displeased line. ‘ What luck, ’ said Severus. ‘ Don’t pass out before I’m done with you. ’ 

Then Severus began to sing. The counter to Sectumsempra was something he’d mulled over between books on healing and phoenix tears, the incantation lilting with a soft melody as he passed his wand over the injury once, then again, then a third time. The wounds knit themselves together imperfectly, leaving a long scar behind. The dim white light faded from the tip of his wand as the last syllable did. 

He pressed the back of his hand against Moody’s forehead to check his temperature. ‘ Alright, up, ’ said Severus, shifting the other’s arm around his shoulders and hauling him to his feet. Slowly he walked them towards the couch in the living room and laid him down. Severus unbuttoned and discarded his heavy cloak, folding up the sleeves of his shirt as he knelt beside the couch and turned his attention to Moody’s other injuries. ‘ How do you feel? Where else does it hurt? ’ He couldn’t dismiss the image from his mind of Moody standing like a wall against a barrage of curses and spells like he was somehow immune to them. It wasn’t a common sight on missions, at least not before Severus joined the Order and was presented with a range of ridiculous displays of selflessness that were entirely pointless and ill thought out. This was, by far, the most brazen, and the fact that it was on his own account made his stomach turn.

HEADCANON: OCCUPATION (Researcher at St. Mungos)

Severus was initially an intern at St. Mungos research division during the last year of his potions apprenticeship. He wrote (and later published) multiple case studies regarding permanent curse damage and did assistant work for a senior researcher’s project during that time. After receiving his potions mastery Severus was officially hired as a junior researcher for the hospital. He’s currently involved in two separate projects both of which are within the field of permanent dark curses.

During the years following his graduation and before his employment at Mungos, Severus worked shifts at an apothecary, and sold potions as a freelance potioneer. He still takes commissions from regulars but they’re less frequent than they used to be.

@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. ’

elliotofvanity​:

Elliot should have come up with some excuse to, well, to excuse himself; should have retreated and sought Hestia or Wila or someone else who could give him more information; someone who could clarify that Severus Snape really was supposed to be here, with the Order, and why; someone else who had been here longer and could answer impossible questions like what the fucking fuck was Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy’s favorite fuck doing with the Order of the Phoenix? without making things too terribly awkward.

He should have mustered-up some polite nonsense phrase and left.

Instead, when the other wix demanded an explanation, Elliot blurted, “But you’re the Malfoys’ bed-toy,” too shocked to be anything but honest. “You are! Severus Snape. I’ve seen you at a dozen parties.“ He had seen Severus at school, too, but hadn’t paid the quiet, surly, solitary wix nearly as much attention as he had when seeing them waltzed around a ballroom on Lucius Malfoy’s elegant arm, or ensconced in a corner seat with Narcissa giggling gracefully in their ear, or being swept upstairs at the end of the evening by one or both of the fashionable blondes. At school, Severus had been—in their own way—something of a wallflower, too. In the Malfoys’ hands, they had been impossible not to notice.

To see them now…here…none of it made sense. “What are you doing here?”

The boy could’ve said ‘the Dark Lord sent me to kill you’ and it would’ve shocked Severus less. 

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. Bed-toy. He covered his face with his hand to hide his laughter but it was too late. ‘ Well aren’t you bold, ’ said Severus, the corners of his lips stretched in a mischievous smirk. Severus was attentive towards the rumors that sprang in his wake, specifically the ones that followed his appearances with Lucius or Narcissa (or both) and it was not entirely for pragmatic reasons that he did so. After all, the tales that followed him at every society event wouldn’t be half as tall without his own delighted efforts. And the Malfoys’ bed-toy was not only the least offensive but also the least inaccurate. 

People just didn’t usually say it to his face.

He stepped towards the boy, eyes gleaming with interest. ‘ Elliot Vanity, ’ said Severus, stopping right before him, sinking into his mind like a wide net onto dense water. Thoughts jumped to his hands like fish, eager to be caught. ‘ That’s who you are. The newest recruit. ’ He didn’t know what they were thinking, bringing in a pureblood society brat into the fold — didn’t they have enough of those lying about already? — but that was a discussion for later. He shoved the inventory paper at the boy’s chest. ‘ Here’s your first assignment: restock the cabinets, ’ Severus folded his arms and looked at Vanity expectantly. ‘ If you drop one, you’ll get kicked out of the Order. ’ He turned around and walked back towards his satchel of brews. He couldn’t help adding, with a flippant tone, ‘ and just so you know, they’re as much mine as I am theirs. ’ The bedroom was an equal opportunity playground.

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