#excrabilis

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3. agent.btz

E-mail viruses: An e-mail virus travels as an attachment to e-mail messages, and usually replicates itself by automatically mailing itself to dozens of people in the victim's e-mail address book. Some e-mail viruses don't even require a double-click -- they launch when you view the infected message in the preview pane of your e-mail software [source: Johnson].

((source))

Definition Computer Virus [1]:

A set of computer instructions

Deliberately created

That propagates

And does unwanted things.

Characteristics of Computer Viruses:

Cannot exist in a viable form, apart from another (usually legitimate) program.

Propagates when the host program is executed.

Has an incubation period, during which no damage is done.

After incubation period, begins to manifest its behavior.

A Few Manifestations of Computer Viruses:

Sudden or periodic slowing of programs.

Unexplained change in the size of any program. ("Explanations" would be, for example, a new version of DOS, or re-installing a program with different options.)

Unusual behavior of the computer, especially during a program which you have been running regularly with no problems.

Failure of any program (such as a word processor) to install correctly from its distribution (original) disks. (Many programs check their own size after installation.)

Files with extension .EXE.

Files with extension .COM.

Files with extension .BAT.

Files with extension .SYS.

Sirius had figured if it was lurking in his messaging system, passing it to a computer for better study would be as easy as sending an email. “Easy,” however was a figure of speech when talking about a virus that effectively put his contact list on randomize. He sent himself blank emails about ten times before finally receiving it on a laptop that meant nothing to him. It was empty, used only for coding monsters, and older than sin. 

But finally. He had found it. 

It pressed its weight against the mirror of DOS the old Dell ran on, line after line of code, morphing every time he opened it; in a new location every time he left it alone for more than a few hours. He had never seen a virus more active; more certain of where to go to find secure information; more prolific. It made his stomach clench and his heart pump. 

They said it had come from the government. Whoever had been designing this could have been the most knowledgeable spy on the planet had they managed to develop it into something invisible. Even less than Sirius wanted to know what the virus would do next did Sirius want to know why the government had made this a project and on whom the government had hoped to have it unleashed. 

On his couch in the relative darkness gifted by his black-out curtains, Sirius balanced the laptop on one knee and a bowl of cereal on the other. He watched it, trying to read it as fast as the code sped across, scrolling at times, but usually too afraid to lose his place. If he could understand it, he could know where it might go next or at least how it jumped from place to place. 

In the middle of his mesmerized observance, Sirius heard a firm knock on his door. A simple 1-2-3, impersonal and startling. His muscles siezed for a moment to keep him from jumping and spilling everything in his lap, then he turned toward the sound. The knocking came again, not that of anyone he recognized, and Sirius forced out a breath. With one last glance at the code, he pushed the laptop and bowl away from him, putting them onto the coffee table, then stood. 

He opened the door, blinking at the light of the day. He kept the door close to him, only opened enough to show all but the arm poised to slam the door  back shut. When he saw the blue robes of an auror at his door, his arm twitched as if to do so. It was an effort not to let the door close, not to lock it with deadbolt and chain, and not to run. He had never trusted Aurors, and Moody hadn’t exactly made their case. 

This auror knew his address and full name. 

Sirius swallowed to rewet his throat before answering, “Yeah, that’s me. Something I can help you with?” He knew he looked messy: black jeans, tshirt. His hair was a mop from the many times he’d run his hands through it. He hadn’t exactly been sleeping well, either, half of his energy on his internship, the other half on the virus... the virus that was written all over his screen. He swallowed again, remembering how they’d gotten Septima. 

Merlin, let the man not look at Sirius’ computer. 

qsxefv said:

Worried about the newest massive security leak our glorious government has let loose? Tired of your personal shit being aired like clean laundry? 

Whether you’re trying to remove a persistent post on your own preferred social media account or someone else’s, the newest form of the virus can make things difficult. Don’t go at it alone and risk digging even more holes in your system for the virus to fill. Especially don’t raise red flags with a botched attempt to get into another’s account, thus incriminating yourself further. 

Instead, trust someone with experience. 

@arcturusascending

A virus. That’s what this thing was; this irritation, this thorn in his side, this thing that had already screwed up three of his carefully-laid plans and almost destroyed another. Most notably, the texts from his burner were routinely being sent to the wrong person -- so much so that he’d been forced to resort to face-to-face contact, or to phone calls, just to ensure that nothing more got fucked over in the process, and everyone knew exactly what was expected of them.

It was surprisingly difficult, being without that one single method of communication, and Tom made a mental note to review his usage of it in the future. He had become too dependent. Too dependent on that filthy Muggle technology, for despite how convenient it was to tap the screen a few times and sent out an instant communication, it was still beneath him -- beneath them all, all of his Death Eaters, all of those who had pledged their loyalty to him and his cause, all who looked up to him and trusted him and believed in him.

It would not do to have them thinking that that belief was all for naught.

But there was one advantage to Muggle technology that he was more than willing to exploit. After all, what was one more virus floating around in the ether? The Ministry couldn’t catch everything -- and neither could the Order. Now that he knew for certain the identity of one member of that vigilante group, soon enough the identities of the rest would follow, and in the meantime he was more than content with having his own virus developed. How fitting that the developer he had in mind was the younger -- better -- brother of his eventual in with the Order.