*Remus looks up at the familiar, half-glanced figures of James and Lily, smiling a little and mid-conversation with Sirius, arms folded as he leans back against the counter. His greeting dies in his throat, though, as he realizes who's with them, and two things happen at once. He straightens, eyes locked onto Snape, and he wraps a hand firmly around Sirius's arm to keep him in place. Or, more precisely, to keep him from attacking Snape on sight.*
*It's not quite the instinct to attack Snape so much as reflex--although he is a Death Eater, and an influential one at that, Sirius is willing to permit that it is remotely possible that Snape might be useful. But when confronted with him; the horrible and truly unholy nose, the scowl, the very fact of his unpleasant existence, there's a specific muscle in Sirius' hand that twitches, ready to hex him just as it was ready six years ago. It's only Remus' grip that keeps him civil, and his face shows the restraint.*
*Sirius, for a second, continues to glare at Snape with the hatred borne of years of schoolyard contempt. But Harry is more important, and he picks him up and arranges his godson in his lap more comfortably in his arms. When Sirius speaks, it's quietly, to Remus and Harry alone, so gently that it might be mistaken for nonsense spoken to the child alone.*
Don't trust him as far as I can throw him, and I could throw him a fair distance, skinny git . . .
What he is, is exactly why he's here. Unless anyone else feels up to risking their lives I suggest you settle down and let him do as he's promised to do.
*Remus acknowledges Sirius with a brief squeeze to his arm just before he lets go - subtle to anyone but Sirius himself, he hopes - and looks from Snape to Moody.*
*Somewhere out there, in the history of human experience, someone has penned out a hierarchy of painful and indignant situations. Though Snape's never bothered to find it, he's pretty sure that tonight is right near the top. With hair enveloping his face like thin, greasy jellyfish tentacles, the absolute very last thing he wants to do is continue to be here. It's only with all the heavy resignation of a martyr that he fully steps inside, his nose practically clearing the way ahead, a distinct smell of cabbage and something sulphuric (that he was no doubt concocting earlier) following in from behind.
*Lily cannot smell cabbage, but she does sense a scenario that reminds her of "the old days" far too well. Bad old days. Of course, those days, which actually lasted years, never included something so high risk or serious and especially not in an auror's kitchen. But the distinct sense of "us" versus "him" coupled with sneers and being smart arses was not welcomed in Lily's eyes. She very much doubts they can completely bury the hatchet, even for the sake of the Order and the war, and she honestly can't be arsed about that. Acting civil, on the other hand, is far more doable in theory.
That's what she tries to do, and it works when he's not being such an insufferable dick that she can't help but rightfully snap at him (or punch him in the nose
( ... )
*Harry gives a high pitched little squeal as Sirius bounces him in his arms, and Sirius waits for James to catch his eye. In the manner of men who have been best friends for years, Sirius can tell James everything he needs to without actually saying a word. He gives his head a little shake and a pronounced eyeroll--We should probably behave, but we don't have to pretend to like it. It is somewhat ruined, however, when one of Harry's chubby little hands makes a fist in his hair and tugs.*
*James doesn't hesitate to kiss Lily back, and once they break apart, his eyes immediately land on Snape. He's more sure than ever before that he fancies Lily, but the tip of Snape's nose is not giving anything away. He sighs and than reluctantly nods in agreement with Sirius.
*Oh-- careful there, Harry! I'm sorry, mate, you'll get used to it after awhile.*
*Frank's got as little tolerance for this as the others, for professional if not personal reasons. He fingers the handle of his wand pointedly.*
I think you'd best explain just what it is he's doing here, Alastor, and be quick about it. Because barring that, I don't see any reason not to take down the Death Eater that just walked right into our meeting.
*Peter had known, in a theoretical sense, that Snape was informing the Order, but actually seeing him here is startling, like finding a snake in your sock drawer.
His only part in the general bristling is to stand from his spot on the floor. Once on his feet, he's not really sure what to do. He can't help but stare at Snape, but struggles to avoid his eyes.*
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What's he doing here--
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We know what he is.
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Sirius, you know we've been getting information from him for months. Don't be so bloody stroppy right now, this isn't the time.
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Don't trust him as far as I can throw him, and I could throw him a fair distance, skinny git . . .
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Which is?
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I think he's here to increase the Order morale, you know, liven up the atmosphere with his cheery demeanor, that sort of thing.
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He doesn't bother with hellos.*
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That's what she tries to do, and it works when he's not being such an insufferable dick that she can't help but rightfully snap at him (or punch him in the nose ( ... )
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Ow--let go, you unholy terror.
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*Oh-- careful there, Harry! I'm sorry, mate, you'll get used to it after awhile.*
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I think you'd best explain just what it is he's doing here, Alastor, and be quick about it. Because barring that, I don't see any reason not to take down the Death Eater that just walked right into our meeting.
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His only part in the general bristling is to stand from his spot on the floor. Once on his feet, he's not really sure what to do. He can't help but stare at Snape, but struggles to avoid his eyes.*
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Um, no one will be taking down anyone.
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