Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2013 11:37:43 GMT -8
”There’s something out there, can’t you see the signs, Albus?” Alastor Moody was leaning against the doorframe of his flat, staring into the flames that licked the edges of the fireplace, ”Can’t you feel it?”
Albus Dumbledore’s face had appeared in the embers, staring back at the young Auror. The old man seemed to be contemplating something, but words did not yet leave his lips. Al could see the beginnings of wrinkles on his old headmaster’s face; indicating that it had been quite some time since they had last spoken. The next thing that he noticed was the distinct recessive hairline that was beginning to show on the man. Age was taking its toll. But this was a meeting that he had to push onwards; Al was beginning to become suspicious of the eerie silence in the Wizarding World. For a couple of years there had been talks of a Dark Lord rising to power and then all of a sudden, all rumors seemed to fall off the face of the planet. If that wasn’t a reg flag of warning, he wasn’t sure what was.
Instinctively, Moody threw the edges of his trench coat out around him as he rushed forward, right to the very edge of the coals. He crouched down, running his fingertips over the edge of the caulked tiles that were before him, those blue eyes never leaving the face that was amongst the flames, ”Someone is out there. And they very well might be right under our noses.”
”You have never once proved to be incorrect, Alastor.”
That was the old man’s answer? Immediately Moody felt his face contort. He had been expecting action! Conviction! Constant Vigilance! Something of consequence.
”You have proved yourself to be a brilliant Auror which is why you must know-”
”That any action we put forth would be considered a threat and therefore warrant the attack of this unknown force. I know, I know.” Alastor finished and reached up to press his palm into his forehead. He knew that something was out there and the fact that he couldn’t quite figure out what it was had his head spinning in a million different directions.
Albus smiled slightly at the man before speaking again, ”Alas, I believe I hear your flatmate at the door.” Alastor turned around and grimaced at the door of the flat before turning back to the fireplace...only to find that Albus had sizzled off and the fire had grown dull. Whatever conversation that they had just intended to have was now a part of the past. Moody wouldn’t be able to mention it to anyone, including his prick of a flatmate. Thirty one years old and he still lived with someone...someone as insufferable as Cooper Bailey himself.
Standing up and brushing off the knees of his pants, Alastor stood there, staring at the door for what seemed like an eternity, ”You come at the worst possible times, you know that?” He muttered to himself right before the door swung open. Immediately, as if he had been trained to do it, Alastor ducked his head and began busying himself with the unruly amount of paperwork that he had scattered all over the coffee table.
