Ground Floor

[Administrator]

The entrance hall is a large room with peeling wallpaper, threadbare carpet, gas lamps, and a serpent-shaped, cobwebby candelabra. There are a number of age-blackened portraits here, including one of Mrs. Black, behind moth-eaten moldy curtains; when disturbed, it screeches and screams in a most horrible manner, cursing everyone around and waking the other portraits, who also begin screaming. Not surprisingly, everyone tiptoes and whispers in the hall. There is an umbrella stand in the hall made from a troll leg.

[Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody]

Moody tramped into the hall, his walking stick making loud thumping sounds as it struck the wooden floor through the thinning carpet.

"Eh, shut up, you old bat," he growled when Mrs. Black screamed at the noisy intrusion. Taking a long swallow from the flask at his hip, Moody dropped into a dusty chair. It creaked ominously under his weight and a puff of dust almost blinded him, but it was still a relief to get off of his feet. Moody had been skulking about all day. First there had been a useless trip to the Ministry where he had been forced to listen to a bunch of halfwit new recruits blathering about how "exciting" this all was. Then he had spent a few hours at Hogsmede Village and Diagon Alley, observing the carnage caused by the Death Eater attacks. When things got to crowded, he had returned to the Ministry to retrieve a list of the dead and wounded. Now he was here, awaiting for the Order. He didn't wait with much hope. Most of the members were hard to locate or busy with other things.

Moody reached down with a grunt to adjust his wooden leg. Well, he would speak to whoever came, and they would tell the others of their plans. Something had to be done. Moody could only do so much in his capacity as an Auror. There were too many restrictions. If Moody was going to find these cowardly sacks of garbage, then he would need the Order's power and influence.

[Emmeline Vance]

The Ministry of Magic was chaotic. For most of the day, Emmeline found herself locked in her office, hoping in vain for the volume to decrease. She’d gotten little work done, but received multiple visitors, barging into her office, all shouting about the Ministry’s actions.

After eight unproductive hours, Emmeline squeezed her way through the crowds of people scattered throughout the Ministry, making her way to the Atrium. As she was about to Disapparate, Arnie Peasegood halted her to discuss the Daily Prophet article, which he was waving wildly above his head. A colleague with a strong, opposing opinion overheard and stormed over, beginning a heated argument with Arnie. Arnie was so involved in the argument that he tossed down his newspaper in anger and failed to notice when Emmeline picked it up and offered it back.

Assuming her presence was no longer wanted nor noticed, Emmeline took the opportunity to leave. Home was not her destination. She had business to take care of before retiring for the evening.

Daily Prophet in hand, Emmeline Apparated to number twelve Grimmauld Place. Pushing open the door, she slipped in quietly and made her way down the hall. She didn’t get very far before she found Alastor Moody. Mrs. Black’s screeching indicated that Moody’s entrance had not been a silent one.

“Alastor,” She nodded as she greeted her fellow Auror, frowning in irritation as Mrs. Black’s cries grew louder as Emmeline spoke. “Nothing like a welcome drenched in curses to make one feel at home,” she said dryly. The blonde had never been fond of the enraged portrait and had recently become quite the activist as far as attempting to remove the it was concerned.

Extending The Daily Prophet to Moody, Emmeline raised her voice to be heard over the old woman’s shouting. “I have no doubt that the rest of the Order have their own copies already. Can’t hurt to have one more, though, can it?” Planting her left hand on her hip, she tilted her head to the side and looked down at her seated companion. “Your thoughts?” She assumed Moody had heard the news. How could he not? Everyone in the Wizarding World had heard.

[Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody]

“Alastor. Nothing like a welcome drenched in curses to make one feel at home,”

Moody looked up at Emmeline with a twisted smirk. “Hello, Emmeline. Don’t mind the old hag. That’s just her way of expressing her appreciation for us putting her house to good use.” Mrs. Black’s screams redoubled at that comment, stabbing shrilly into Moody's already aching head. Moody slammed his walking stick on to the floor with a bang. “Shut up before I take a torch to you, you loudmouthed bat!” Normally, Moody could ignore the screeching, but today his nerves were already frayed to the quick. Every sound set his teeth on edge.

“Your thoughts?”

Taking the newspaper from Emmeline with a grunt, Moody cast it on to the floor. “I hate bloody newspapers. They never get the story right.” Moody fumbled with his flask. He took a long drag, then placed it back on his belt. “But this story looks like it might have some truth to it. I’ve been ordered to investigate four former Death Eaters and their families. You know, the ones who claimed they were Imperiused? I’m actually supposed to have a look at the old Malfoy place in a few days. Waste of time, if you ask me. No one there now but the wife, and she’s never done a damn thing beyond buy fancy robes and dote over her spineless ferret of a boy.”

Moody pushed himself to his feet and began pacing back and forth in front of Emmeline, his magical eye swiveling occasionally to peer through the walls. Kreacher was the only other living creature in the house besides the rats and spiders, but there was no reason in letting the little skulker overhear more than necessary. “I think the Ministry’s scared to death, and I think the people just want someone to blame – not a good combination.” Dragging his bum leg across the carpet, Moody stopped in front of a towering portrait of a scowling old man. “The Ministry’s going to act thickheaded and make people angry, and the people are going to start treating the Ministry like its run by Voldemort himself. And all the while, the Death Eaters will be slithering around, taking advantage of the kerfuffle.” Looking back at Emmeline. “We’ve got to find them, Emmeline. The Ministry won’t, the way they’re going, and the citizenry will be no help at all.” Taking another irritable swig from his flask, Moody stomped back to his chair. “I should have them clapped up in Azkaban already. I would have, if I could work the way I want to, but I’m buried up to my eyeball in Ministry red tape. I’ll bet my good leg it’s the same for you.”

Moody dropped into his chair and glared up at the cobweb-covered ceiling. “The Order needs to mobilize, but there’s not enough of us.” Propping his chin up on his folded hands, Moody pondered. “For now, we’ll have to work overtime, you and I. Finish our Ministry work while conducting our own investigations. Keep this from getting any more out of control.” He pointed a finger at Emmeline. “Remember, those Death Eaters could be anywhere. They’re hiding in plain sight, mark my words.”

[Emmeline Vance]

“I’m actually supposed to have a look at the old Malfoy place in a few days. Waste of time, if you ask me. No one there now but the wife, and she’s never done a damn thing beyond buy fancy robes and dote over her spineless ferret of a boy.”

Emmeline nodded. “Still,” she said, “It couldn’t hurt to check.” She arched an eyebrow and added, “You never know what you might come across in that house.”

“I think the Ministry’s scared to death, and I think the people just want someone to blame – not a good combination.”

“Agreed.” Emmeline let out a slow breath. It wouldn’t be long before there were people out in the streets protesting, she hadn’t a doubt about that.

As Moody went on, Emmeline frowned. He was exactly right. Everyone was going to get so caught up in the Ministry conflict that the Death Eaters would be paid no attention until it was far too late and then—Emmeline knew what would happen then. She and Moody had seen what could become of the magical world if power was placed in the wrong hands. They couldn’t let that happen again.

“We’ve got to find them, Emmeline. The Ministry won’t, the way they’re going, and the citizenry will be no help at all…The Order needs to mobilize, but there’s not enough of us.”

Hastily dusting off a chair, Emmeline removed her cloak and draped it over the back of the chair before sitting down. “Have you considered recruits, Alastor?” Emmeline had a feeling he had—leave it to Moody to think of all possibly strategies before drawing up a game plan. “Perhaps,” she said slowly, “We should look around.” She held up a hand, as if to pause her companion’s reaction. “I’m not for handing out fliers with an advertisement and application, but I think we should look.” She sighed and leaned back in the chair. “Until the rest of the Order comes around, I think it’s the best we can do as far as our strength in numbers is concerned.”

“For now, we’ll have to work overtime, you and I. Finish our Ministry work while conducting our own investigations. Keep this from getting any more out of control.”

Emmeline nodded curtly. She didn’t mind working overtime. She hadn’t joined the Order for nothing. “Shall we stakeout Diagon and Knockturn Alley?” The latter was more likely to have Death Eaters, but the former was filled with potential victims. Both needed to be guarded. “Hogsmeade as well?” She smiled grimly. “If only there was a third member here, then we’d be ready to go.”

She looked down at her lap, racking her brain for ideas that could help. As she smoothed a crease in her skirt, a thought struck her. She looked at Moody. “What about Hogwarts?” She suspected the school would be attacked. She didn’t expect it to happen in the near future, but the attack seemed inevitable. Dumbledore and Harry Potter were there; He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named needed no other reason save for that to ambush the school. “Albus, Minerva, Rubeus, and Severus are there, but they can’t defend the school alone, not against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

[Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody]

“Still,” she said, “It couldn’t hurt to check.” She arched an eyebrow and added, “You never know what you might come across in that house.”

Moody snorted. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll find plenty of things I can sell back Borgin & Burkes for a pretty profit, but nothing that’ll point me any closer to those Death Eaters. Malfoy was on the wrong side of Voldemort from the start of this mess.” He shifted in his chair. “The Dark Lord does not take betrayal well.” Moody couldn't find it in his heart to feel much sympathy for the former Death Eater. He had watched Malfoy plead the Imperius Curse after murdering countless wizards in cold blood. And anyway, Malfoy was probably safer than anyone, nestled in a cozy cell in Azkaban.

“Have you considered recruits, Alastor?” Emmeline had a feeling he had—leave it to Moody to think of all possibly strategies before drawing up a game plan. “Perhaps,” she said slowly, “We should look around.” She held up a hand, as if to pause her companion’s reaction. “I’m not for handing out fliers with an advertisement and application, but I think we should look.” She sighed and leaned back in the chair. “Until the rest of the Order comes around, I think it’s the best we can do as far as our strength in numbers is concerned.”

“Hmph.” Moody didn’t like it. He could think of no one who was ready to join the Order. There were some who might be ready someday - Potter and his friends, the Weasley children, but now, they were all still children - far too driven by emotions and hormones. And picking people off of the street seemed a plan destined for failure.

Moody looked at Emmeline. “Do you have any suggestions? I am willing to listen, but we must be vigilant, Emmeline. Anyone who shows interest in us could be a Death Eater spy.” Moody’s eye rolled, taking in the entirety of the room out of habit. “Anyone we approach must be observed and tested.” Many wizards had called Moody paranoid, even before he had lost his leg, but in these troubled time, paranoia looked a lot like wisdom.

“Shall we stakeout Diagon and Knockturn Alley?” The latter was more likely to have Death Eaters, but the former was filled with potential victims. Both needed to be guarded. “Hogsmeade as well?” She smiled grimly. “If only there was a third member here, then we’d be ready to go.”

“Dumbledore will look after Hogsmeade,” Moody pushed himself to his feet. His false leg creaked as he righted himself. “I’ll take Knockturn Alley.” He tapped his ruined nose. “I’ll blend in there.”

“What about Hogwarts? Albus, Minerva, Rubeus, and Severus are there, but they can’t defend the school alone, not against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

“Dumbledore will have to look after Hogwarts for now. There are more of our people there than anywhere else. It’s as safe as it can be.” Which might not be very safe at all. Moody knew that was true, but worrying about Hogwarts now was fruitless. Catching the Death Eaters was the only sure way to keep the school safe.

"I’ll go to Knockturn Alley.” Moody wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and pulled up his hood. “Stay out of sight in Diagon Alley if you can help it. If anyone asks, you’re on Ministry business.” He paused for a moment, pondering. He still didn’t like it, but… “And if you notice anyone who might serve our purposes, inform me.” He turned toward the door. “Is there anything else you think we ought to discuss, Emmeline?”

[Emmeline Vance]

“Do you have any suggestions? I am willing to listen, but we must be vigilant, Emmeline. Anyone who shows interest in us could be a Death Eater spy.”

She frowned, quickly racking her brain for applicable witches and wizards. When no one came to mind, she shook her head. “There’s no one I can think of right away,” she answered slowly.

Emmeline bit her lip as she continued to think about who she knew that might be fit for the Order. Unable to think of anyone, she sighed. “Nevertheless, I think we should keep a weather eye out for anyone who appears to have the appropriate qualifications.”

“I’ll take Knockturn Alley.” He tapped his ruined nose. “I’ll blend in there.”

Emmeline smiled and said dryly, “Alastor, I don’t think you’re going to blend in no matter where you go.” Moody was easily recognized, both physically and as one of the most skilled Aurors of all time. She had no doubt that he’d be able to easily sneak around Knockturn Alley—he hadn’t earned his reputation by calling attention to himself in such situations. Even so, she couldn’t refrain herself from making the lighthearted comment.

“And if you notice anyone who might serve our purposes, inform me.”

Emmeline stood and pulled her cloak off the chair. She nodded as Moody spoke. “Of course.” She’d make sure to pay closer attention to her colleagues at the Ministry. She and Moody wouldn’t be able to take down the Death Eaters on their own. If the rest of the Order didn’t act soon, it wouldn’t be long before the Ministry fell.

“Is there anything else you think we ought to discuss, Emmeline?”

Slipping on her cloak, she straightened it meticulously before striding across the room to the door. With the doorknob clasped in her hand, Emmeline paused as she opened the door and turned to face Moody. Pursing her lips, she said, “Yes. Be careful.”

Smiling slightly, she nodded as a good-bye, before pulling open the door and stepping outside. It shut with a click behind her. In no time, Emmeline had turned on her heel and disappeared with a loud pop.