#shared perils

who: open

where: the order of the phoenix headquarters

when: january 16th, 1979

It was the day after the labeled ‘prank’ in Diagon Alley that Alastor found himself within the headquarters of The Order once again. He already put plenty of security measures in place, but this latest event left him reeling. Phoenix feathers, falling from the sky, and softly landing on the doorways of Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, and the Ministry alike - before bursting into flames and vanishing from everyone’s sights.

But what does it mean?

Alastor racked around the question in his own mind, pacing the study portion of their home-base. Knowing that most of The Order had returned, with memories intact, Moody suspected many would come looking for answers. Unfortunately, their leader had yet to provide any substantial responses, leaving Moody to be but a shoulder to cry on and lend a hand to those who asked for it. Which was why he sat in a large armchair, waiting, patiently, for anyone who needed someone who understood their troubles; the shared perils; of living another lifetime - suddenly thrown into another where there were even more questions and dangers than they originally thought...

who: Alastor + Frank where: the order of the phoenix headquarters when: january 16th, 1979

It was the day after the labeled ‘prank’ in Diagon Alley that Alastor found himself within the headquarters of The Order once again. He already put plenty of security measures in place, but this latest event left him reeling. Phoenix feathers, falling from the sky, and softly landing on the doorways of Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, and the Ministry alike - before bursting into flames and vanishing from everyone’s sights.

But what does it mean?

Alastor racked around the question in his own mind, pacing the study portion of their home-base. Knowing that most of The Order had returned, with memories intact, Moody suspected many would come looking for answers. Unfortunately, their leader had yet to provide any substantial responses, leaving Moody to be but a shoulder to cry on and lend a hand to those who asked for it. Which was why he sat in a large armchair, waiting, patiently, for anyone who needed someone who understood their troubles; the shared perils; of living another lifetime - suddenly thrown into another where there were even more questions and dangers than they originally thought...

—

It hadn’t been as strange as Frank expected to be in the same secret club as your boss. During war, it seemed that pretty much anything goes, and it hadn’t been a surprise to Frank that Moody had been part of a secret vigilante group for as long as he had been.

But Frank was still terse, unsure, and quite honestly, tired of enough that he feels like he had lived an entire lifetime over again. Except he hadn’t, or if he had, it hadn’t been much long of a lifetime anyway. There seemed no excuse to linger on something that hadn’t happened, but it still gnawed at him to know that he had his son once—twice—or however many times—but it has never been and will never be enough.

He places his files on the table. He knows he’s not supposed to take them from the office, but there was no more efficient way to sort out whether or not they had been tampered. An exhale escapes his lungs, and exasperation settles in the air when he addresses Moody, referencing the new development now: phoenix feathers.

“A prank, huh?”