O, let me not be mad, not mad

[eyevigilant]

Who: Mad-Eye Moody and you!
When: October 21st-24th; pick a time
Where: Sector 3, by the library, or Sector 2, by the police station there
Summary: Meet a paranoid old cranky wizard scouting things out in his version of recon.
Warnings: None yet.

Comments

Library, 21st, afternoon!

[believesbeyond]

Books were not Luna's favourite source of information. There was something rather unsatisfying about reading all about someone else's experiences and research, knowing that they would have most likely gone about it all in a very particular way to prove a certain point, or to conform to a specific point of view.

However, she could concede that books were an acceptable place to start, so she had started to frequent the library even more often than she had in the school days -- not that such an increase had been terribly difficult to achieve.

She enjoyed watching people as she made her way through the library, wondering who they were, what experiences and secrets in life -- in this city, or perhaps in a different world -- they were hiding behind their eyes. You could never be completely sure with people. She liked it that way.

This afternoon, she found herself fascinated by the man sitting in the corner, wearing the bowler hat. Perhaps if it was lime green, it would even be reminiscent of Cornelius Fudge's.

Should she walk over to him to get a closer look? She decided that she should, so she did.

[eyevigilant]

Underneath that hat, Moody's eye was scanning anyone who seemed like they were approaching. Which was making reading slightly difficult, because people took a few steps in his direction quite frequently. Even when he was in the corner (perhaps especially then, since there was the widest space for people to be moving towards him in?).

If they were actually approaching, it was usually cause to pull out his wand and then also switch locations in the library. One didn't want to just destroy books, especially not ones that might be cursed.

On this occasion, though, he recognized the person approaching. The Lovegood girl. And they called him mad. (Though they called her mad too.) So while seeming to still be scanning his book, he watched her carefully as she approached. When she was within earshot, and no one else was, he grunted a short, "Evening."

[believesbeyond]

Luna's first thought was that it was Cornelius Fudge after all - her eyes almost bugged out of her head at the realization, her mind whirring with possibilities before she managed to more accurately identify where she really knew that voice from. As soon as she did, she was ready to greet him with a pleasant smile before she remembered his warning from when they had first communicated over the journal.

While there was still a small smile on her face, she approached him a little more cautiously, her fingers moving to where she'd been storing her wand behind her ear for safekeeping. “Good evening. Can I be sure that you're really Professor Moody?” Well, she supposed that he wasn't a Hogwarts professor any longer (or had he ever been in the first place? She couldn't remember all the details), but that didn't really matter. What was in a name, anyway?

[eyevigilant]

The slightest hint of a smile emerged at that. To no avail, of course, as his face was still well-shrouded by the ludicrous hat placement.

"Not very subtle, Lovegood, but it works," he said. "Here's one thing. I never really got around to much teaching, now, so you can drop the Professor if you like."

He paused again. "And kindly put your wand somewhere it won't blast your brains out if it ignites."

[believesbeyond]

After a moment's worth of serious deliberation, Luna drew her wand, then slipped it back up her right sleeve, fingers closing down on the hem to keep it closed and secure. "All right. What should I call you, then?"

[eyevigilant]

He grunts approvingly. "I keep telling people. Wand safety. But they never listen until they lose a buttock or two."

Her question elicits a full glance, though -- with both eyes. "Most people call me Mad-Eye. I'm sure you've heard it. And you all've grown enough to fight You-Know-Who, it's enough to be of age, as far as I'm concerned. Name's not important, anyway."

[believesbeyond]

"Right," she said, silently deciding to simply not call him anything at all. It seemed like such an odd thing -- to name someone after a feature that while noticeable, surely didn't define them in such a way that a proper name would. And 'Mad' didn't really seem like the right description for it, anyway. It was more all-seeing than truly mad.

With that resolution, she hoisted herself up on the table, sitting on its edge and swinging her legs as she continued to speak. "Well, I'm not actually seventeen yet, but that might just be because the months are different here."

[eyevigilant]

It's not an unreasonable choice. After all, Moody doesn't exactly like the nickname -- in the work arena, it's typically Alastor -- but he accepts it as an inevitability and an irrelevancy.

He eyes her unusual posture with some stoniness, but doesn't object to it. "Close enough," he growls. "As far as I'm concerned." He tries to recall for timeline purposes what year she was in when he--died--but he hadn't quite paid that much attention.

"Seen any other wizards you know here?" Of course, he's seen most of them himself, but it never hurts to ask.

[believesbeyond]

She continued to swing her legs throughout their conversation, but as she answered his most recent question, her fingers clutched the edge of the table just slightly more tightly. "I've spoken with Draco Malfoy." And he hadn't remembered the same things that she had. "Oh, and Sirius Black. I've met many other people who can use some type of magic, too, but I'd never heard of them back home, so I don't suppose they count."

oh isn't that ironic

[eyevigilant]

As if passive-aggressively drawing attention to it, Moody's eye seemed to trace her swinging legs back and forth for a moment, before darting around to other parts.

He nodded. "Yeah, I saw the Malfoy boy and Black too," he said. "Others could be foreign wizards. But most of them don't fit with anyone I know, and I'd say I know most of the ones I should." He paused for another glance at her, this time picking up on that slight tension.

"Still. Malfoy's a bad one," he added abruptly, thinking of Dumbledore.

/tenses YOUR verbs!

[believesbeyond]

The abruptness of the last comment made Luna pause for thought, her legs stilling in their previous motions as she did so. While she wasn't inclined towards disagreeing, she also disliked quantifying something - or someone, especially - as objectively, wholly, bad. "He's rather rude, isn't he?" she answered brightly. "I think being here will do him some good."

HUSH not in public

[eyevigilant]

Moody shrugged, with a distinct air of carelessness. "Once a Malfoy, always a Malfoy," he said, with more than a touch of disdain. Which wasn't to say that he wouldn't give a Malfoy one chance. But once that one chance was up, it was up. Particularly when you had participated in the scheme that killed Albus Dumbledore.

I DO WHAT I WANT

[believesbeyond]

"You don't think people are capable of change?" It was a simple question, one that had been heavy on her mind lately, but all the same, she anticipated his answer greatly. She wondered if the opinion of a famous Auror would differ greatly from people without backgrounds in magical law enforcement.

ONLY TO ME

[eyevigilant]

He grunted. "If you can't do it right the first time, it's a hundred times harder to get it right the second time." He shifted in his chair. "Not impossible," he said more musingly. "No, I wouldn't say that. But to all appearances, Malfoy's not trying, either."

PRECISELY

[believesbeyond]

It was the first statement that stuck with her the most, insofar as much that she decided to answer that instead of commenting further on Moody's opinion of Draco Malfoy's behaviour. With a somewhat dreamy look in her eyes as she recalled her father's face in her mind, she answered, "Dad always told me that practice makes things better. Isn't that how it usually works?"

[eyevigilant]

"Maybe," he said. "But when a boy messes up again and again, he's practising how to fail." A bit of stubbornness, maybe, he reflected, but it was better to be safe about such things.