Despite being the Lady of the House, Dorea had essentially no control over who was invited into Grimmauld Place — Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper, the ability to let people through the wards had been ceded entirely to him. So she was a little blindsided to suddenly find herself playing host to something of a VIP.

There were some changes to the list of people who showed up compared to the first meeting a week ago, even without the big surprise. Sirius was here this time, as much to keep Dorea company as anything, she suspected. The Weasleys hadn't been able to make it, busy with work, they were short a couple of their Auror members for the same reason — Dora turned up early, mentioned to Sirius that Shacklebolt and Vance definitely wouldn't be coming. There were issues with Shacklebolt's attendance, to do with politics going on in the Ministry. As Dorea understood it, Shacklebolt had a somewhat senior position in the Aurors — respected and influential enough that he was even a likely candidate to succeed Scrimgeour at the head of the Office — but his close association with Dumbledore had badly tarnished him over the last couple of years. Scrimgeour was keeping a very close eye on him, out of suspicion that he might be using his position to meddle in the DLE on Dumbledore's behalf. For that reason, he had to be careful about too openly swaying things in the Order's favour, or even taking too many unexplained absences. There was a similar issue with Vance, since she was known to have been in the Order the last time around, but there were fewer suspicions around her, for whatever reason — she was actually out today because of something to do with a case she was working on, Dora didn't explain beyond that.

Obviously Dora was in the Order too, and Scrimgeour did know that, but she was thought of as Moody's protégé, which made a difference. Jones turned up too, but honestly Dorea wasn't sure whether her membership was known, she was new.

Remus was here, like last time arriving early to help Dorea set up. That ended up being somewhat awkward, honestly — Sirius and Remus still hadn't made up, the air between them very tense and...wounded. Honestly, at this point she didn't expect them to ever be friends again, or at least not as close as they'd once been. It might not have mattered so much when they were younger, but they were very different people, with different perspectives on what should be done in the coming conflict. Even if there weren't hurt feelings between them from the last months of the war and the fall-out of that Hallowe'en, they just had so little in common now. It was kind of sad, watching them.

It didn't help that it sort of reminded herself of her own damaged friendship with Liz — who also arrived early, though she immediately left to hide alone in the library until it was time to start. Even in the brief time she was around, Dorea noticed that she didn't seem well. She was aware that something had happened to Professor Snape, which had resulted in him being hospitalised — a discussion of the matter was on the agenda for today — and as close as he and Liz were, she wasn't surprised Liz was taking it hard. It was relatively subtle, if Dorea wasn't familiar with her she might not have noticed, her face seeming a bit more strained than usual, a nervous tension in how she gripped the strap of her bag. Her face seemed a little puffy, and there was red in her eyes, her voice a little hoarse, like she'd been crying.

She kind of wanted to ask Liz how she was doing, and...she didn't know. But she knew that wouldn't be taken well, especially from her, so she just kept the thought to herself, and let Liz escape into the library.

It wasn't long after Sturgis arrived that Dorea got her biggest surprise of the day. They'd just cleared the floor of the salon for the table, conjuring chairs — her conjuration was easily good enough to help with that now — when an unfamiliar couple appeared at the door into the hall. Or, no, they weren't entirely unfamiliar — frowning at them, Dorea got the feeling she'd seen them before somewhere, but she couldn't quite place it. The woman was somewhat tall and broad, though not necessarily in an overweight sort of way, just sturdy. She was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, so Dorea could tell it wasn't just her frame, there were actually hints of visible muscle in her arms. Her hair was roughly shoulder-length, blonde and left loose, not styled in any particular order, just left to flutter around as it liked, her jaw somewhat square and her brow somewhat heavy, but the rest of the lines of her face soft and feminine, which gave her a...unique look. Not really a bad one — Dorea thought she was actually kind of striking, combined with how tall and athletic-looking she was — just different. The man with her was rather less attention-grabbing, relatively plain-looking, shaggy brown hair, wearing simple linen trousers and wrap-around tunic, face unremarkable — though he was clean-shaven, which was unusual for adult mages in Britain.

Dorea spent a few seconds blinking at the newcomers, curious. Ahead of this meeting, Dumbledore had sent her a letter saying there would be new people today, though he hadn't said who — it'd been more about the timing and the business they planned on addressing, and the expected number of guests so they could better plan tea. This woman was familiar, though, she was sure she'd seen her before...

While she was still trying to figure it out, Sirius spotted them. "Ah, boss lady! I heard a rumour you might be turning up. Get over here, pull up a chair — I think we got tea coming up in a minute."

...Boss lady?

There was a brief pause, the woman giving Sirius a narrowed-eyed look, before she stepped into the room, the man following a step behind her and to her left. Her gait was at once sharp yet casual, the way she held herself screaming confidence in a way Dorea picked up on immediately. "Black. It's been a while — you seem well." Her voice wasn't particularly low for a woman, but it still seemed to boom through the room, louder than it should be. She was just good at projecting it, Dorea guessed? It didn't feel like it was any kind of magical trick, just a physical one, perhaps something she was doing with her voice, similar to actors or singers or the like.

"Well enough. My twelve years at an island retreat weren't as restful as I would have liked, but I've gotten back into it. You know how it is, I'm certain."

The woman grimaced, suddenly looking uncomfortable. She glanced around quick, eyeing the other people in the room — silently watching, most of them wide-eyed or with raised eyebrows, clearly having recognised her. "I suppose I do. No hard feelings, I hope, over my part in your imprisonment."

Sirius made a dismissive flip of his hand. "As far as I'm concerned, Ma'am, we both got fucked — you just got out before I did. And you were one of the few around who actually tried to do anything about how much of a shitshow the Ministry was, if you were allowed to finish the job you probably would have gotten me out too. So yeah, no hard feelings."

"Good," the woman said, sounding a little relieved. "And you don't have to go calling me ma'am anymore, Black, I haven't been Minister for a decade now."

"If you drop the Black shite, then I'll—"

"Oh!" Sirius broke off, glancing at her, the woman turning to give her a raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I thought you looked familiar, Ma'am, I didn't put a name to your face until just now."

Sirius let out a light scoff. "Doe, if she doesn't want me calling her that, I'm pretty sure that applies double to bloody Ladies of the Wizengamot." He swayed over to her and, his hand light on her back, guided her closer to the woman and the man at her side. Stopping a couple steps away, he said, "Boss lady, my daughter Dorea; Dorea, Millicent Bagnold, former Minister of Magic."

Over the couple years since Dorea had taken over as Lady of the House, she'd had occasion to meet all manner of powerful people. Politically powerful, she meant, the leadership of their society — she'd met literally every Lord or Lady of the Wizengamot, or at least their representative if they didn't vote in person, every Department Director and a handful of Deputy Directors and Undersecretaries, the leadership of various guilds, all kinds of people. Some of them, she'd found, had a... It was hard to put words to, precisely. They had an aura about them, but she didn't mean in the somewhat imprecise magical sense, not something that actually existed, just a feeling. A weight to them, every motion and every word, an intensity...except "intensity" wasn't quite right, because it was there even in their gentle moments. Something that attracted the eye, made you pay attention, even when they weren't doing something that seemed particularly important.

Charisma, she guessed? She wasn't certain that was quite the right word, but it was the closest concept to the feeling she could get to. Not the charisma of an ordinary, friendly person, but more the sort that made people follow. Like you might expect to find in a politician, the sort that people supported because they believed in them, or a general or something, someone accustomed to giving orders and expecting them to be followed. The sort of quiet, unstated confidence that you couldn't help but pick up on, that immediately marked someone as a leader, without needing to be told.

It wasn't something someone in an important position just had by default. Most of the Lords and Ladies or Ministry people Dorea had met didn't have it — a few did, though, like Amelia Bones, or Augusta Longbottom, or Justin Carmichael, or Lord Llewellyn, or Lady Ingham. Curiously, it seemed to be more common in the guild leadership she'd met, but she suspected that might be a selection bias at work. Given the position she was in, she met basically everyone in the Wizengamot and important Ministry posts, but she was likely to come into contact only with people who were particularly influential in the guilds; and the guilds were also more meritocratic and democratic than the hereditary nobility or political appointees, so they were more likely to have this aura. She'd come across it enough times to immediately recognise it when she saw it, but it was still rare.

Millicent Bagnold obviously had it. It was in the way she held herself, in her voice, in the grip of her hand — she went for handshakes doing introductions, which was unusual for nobility, though less so for commoners — Dorea feeling weirdly tingly and self-conscious after only a moment talking to her. She could see it in how she made the rounds of the room, introducing herself to everyone, it... It was hard to explain, exactly. Just the way she talked to people? Dorea couldn't explicitly point to what made it what it was, she could just feel it.

She left Remus a little starstruck — Dorea suspected that was at least in part because Bagnold had treated him the same as everyone else, despite certainly being aware he was a werewolf. That aura probably hit double for him, considering.

Once the introductions were done, Bagnold ended up seated at the table with all the members who'd already arrived gathered around her, talking about the state of the Ministry. Bagnold didn't actually have insight into that — she'd had little to do with politics since she'd been removed from office back in '84 — but Dorea assumed she would have an interesting perspective regardless. Plus, well, the charisma thing — Dorea found herself sitting in the group as well, turning to watch Bagnold every time she heard her strong full voice. (Noticing belatedly that everyone else did as well, going silent to listen, attention drawn to Bagnold unconsciously.) Though it turned out she actually did have more to say than Dorea had expected — she'd worked closely with Bones to reform the Ministry in her last couple years, and apparently they still corresponded...

Bagnold wasn't what Dorea had expected. The man was Constans, one of her lovers, which was something Dorea had known about. Bagnold was in some odd group relationship thing with a few people, she forgot how many there were exactly. (Five? Two women, two men, plus Bagnold herself?) They even had children together — one belonging to one of the other women was a second-year Hufflepuff, Bagnold had a pair of twins who'd be starting in the coming year. She'd expected Bagnold to be a bit peculiar, in fair part because of her odd family and her behaviour in the aftermath of the war, the compelling aura she had was a complete surprise to Dorea.

She did swear a lot, especially when insulting "inbred fuckwits" in the Wizengamot, that wasn't really a surprise. Her interviews after the Dark Lord's curse on her had broken that Hallowe'en had been a bit...colourful.

Most of the rest of the guestlist weren't new — Auror Hestia Jones arrived not long after Bagnold, and then there was Professor Moody, Deirdre (no Emily this time), Daedalus Diggle. An unfamiliar guest was a very sketchy -looking man named Fletcher, Dorea had a bad feeling about him on first glance...which was only made worse by the scowl from Moody, the forbidding glare from Bagnold, and the warning from Sirius that he'd be turning out his pockets before Sirius let him leave the house. Dorea remembered Fletcher had been a member of the Order the first time around too — she hadn't recognised his face, but the name was familiar — but that didn't make her feel any better about sitting at a table with a literal career criminal.

But she was even less happy about the next guest to arrive. What the hell was Hagrid doing here?

Dorea understood that Hagrid's story was a sad one, in some ways — his circumstances weren't entirely his fault. It'd come out during the scandal around the Chamber of Secrets that his expulsion had been due to being framed by the true culprit. (Exactly who that was had never been identified, which was somewhat unnerving.) This should have been obvious at the time: Hagrid had been caught raising an acromantula in the school, which had been extremely irresponsible, but the symptoms of the victims during the first outbreak back in the 40s didn't look anything like acromantula venom. Out of a lack of better options, not having found the basilisk themselves, the school administrators at the time had decided to pin the blame on the only half-human in the school, for obvious bigoted reasons.

Hagrid's criminal prosecution had been complicated by the authorities' inability to connect his acromantula to the attacks. But, while he ended up being cleared of attacking his fellow students, he had still been convicted for illegal possession of a restricted class-XXXXX creature, for which he'd been sentenced to five years in Azkaban, his wand snapped. Of course, that was a crime that he had committed, but if he hadn't gotten wrapped up in the Chamber of Secrets scandal it was very likely he never would have gone to Azkaban for it. The professors would have discovered what he was doing, they would have disposed of the acromantula, Hagrid would have been punished, and the whole thing would have been hushed up. It was possible he might have been expelled regardless, but it was hard to say, it depended on who caught him and what the politics at the school were like at the time. He certainly wouldn't have ended up in Azkaban, though, that was due to circumstance.

As soon as he was released, Dumbledore had hired Hagrid on as an assistant groundskeeper, presumably out of guilt for not being able to protect him — he'd still been Head of Gryffindor at the time, Hagrid had been one of his students. It likely hadn't helped that Hagrid's father had died while he was in prison, so he hadn't had anywhere else to go. Hagrid had taken over as groundskeeper when the previous one finally retired, despite him not really being qualified to do so. There was a variety of magics that, while maybe not required to do the job, certainly made it a lot easier, which Hagrid was incapable of performing due to not being allowed a wand. And a large part of the groundskeeper's duties was to help manage the school's relationships with the nonhuman residents of the Forest and the merpeople in the Lake, which Hagrid was...

Well, to be blunt, Hagrid was constitutionally incapable of performing those duties. During the investigation into the situation at Hogwarts, it'd come out that Hagrid had been terribly failing as the school's envoy to the centaurs — they'd complained that he was routinely dismissive, to the point of being outright offensive, and only very rarely deigned to relay their concerns to the Headmaster, and never to the Ministry. (Hagrid had an understandable distrust of the Ministry, but it was still inappropriate to allow his personal history to interfere with his job like that.) The wilderfolk didn't have as many complaints, Hagrid generally more respectful with them...or they hadn't, before the acromantula nest had been discovered.

Dorea would be willing to overlook the incident with the first acromantula. Hagrid had been young at the time, perhaps thirteen or fourteen, and it wasn't as though he'd personally smuggled the egg into the country — he'd been foolish and careless, sure, but it was the sort of mistake she would hesitate to hold over him after five decades. The second acromantula was a different story. That one Hagrid had personally smuggled across the border, alive, explicitly as a mate for the first acromantula, which had somehow managed to escape capture through the years Hagrid had been in prison. The pair had made their nest deep in the Forest, Hagrid helping them to hide from the residents, and then continued to protect them for decades. He hadn't even informed Dumbledore they were there, failed to convey the complaints of the Forest natives, and...

People had died — nobody knew how many for sure, but dozens at least. Centaurs, wilderfolk, whatever other nonhuman beings might be lingering out there unseen. The hidden war out in the Forest had been so vicious, the acromantulae multiplying year after year for decades, that one wilderfolk clan had been entirely wiped out, the centaurs had been teetering closer and closer to disaster as the acromantulae overran their orchards. The only reason they hadn't spilled onto the grounds and possibly attacked students was because the centaurs and the wilderfolk had been between the nest and the school, fighting for generations in an ultimately doomed effort to push them back. They might not have put their bodies on the line for the students, consciously, but the practical effect was the same — Dorea had noticed recently that some of the Lords and Ladies who had children or grandchildren at Hogwarts had softened toward nonhumans in general and wilderfolk and centaurs in particular, for that reason.

Hagrid wasn't responsible for the death of that girl back in the 40s, but he was responsible for all those nameless centaurs and wilderfolk over the decades. They might not have been human, but they still counted — one would think Hagrid, being only part-human himself, would understand that.

Dorea had heard that Hagrid had been released from Azkaban, a couple months ago — far earlier than his sentence, she wasn't entirely certain how that'd come about. Personally, she suspected corruption. One could argue that whoever had been acting in Hagrid's interest had had the best of intentions (if nothing else, Azkaban was torture), but whatever influence-peddling or bribery had been required would certainly have been blatantly inappropriate. And now he was turning up to a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, for some reason.

What was he supposed to contribute, exactly? He'd never finished his education, so his abilities were very limited. Perhaps he might have some contacts in the underground — given his smuggling activities which had been revealed in the investigation, he would practically need to — but who knew how useful those would be? The Death Eaters certainly had their own ways of procuring what they wished, there was no telling they used the same contacts, and would they even speak to Hagrid anymore? What if the deal for his early release had involved handing over evidence against them? even if it hadn't, wouldn't that be a reasonable thing for his criminal friends to assume? Also, even if he did have some use, Hagrid had proven time and time again that he was completely irresponsible — how could anyone ever trust him with anything important, ever again?

He should not be here, under any circumstances. Dorea sort of regretted that she'd handed over control of the wards to Dumbledore, if only because she could have stopped him from inviting Hagrid to Order meetings.

The angry, frustrated looks on several other faces only made her feel marginally better.

Not long after that, the last of today's attendees arrived — Dumbledore and Creswell showed up together, Dorea suspected they'd just had a private meeting about that secret project she was helping him with — and it was time to get started. Liz was still in the library, Deirdre went to retrieve her, some chatter going on as the last few guests settled in, fixed their tea. They were still talking about nothing serious when Liz and Deirdre returned — and Liz just stood a few steps back from the table, frowning.

Remus noticed after a moment. "Is something the matter, Elizabeth?"

For a second, Liz just scowled at him — she'd walked out of their first Defence class with Remus almost two years ago now, and she'd never warmed up to him since. "I'm not sitting there."

Dorea didn't get what she meant right away...but then she noticed that the only available chair was at one end of the table, right next to where Hagrid was sitting at the head, broad enough to fill the entire breadth of the table's narrow side. Some of the conversation going on went quiet as people turned to watch, various different expression on faces. Displeasure with Hagrid's presence wasn't exactly an uncommon opinion in the room, but openly refusing to sit near him was...a bit much.

The tense pause stretched for a moment, before Dora started saying, "I know there's a lot of talk about giants, baby cousin, but it's—"

"I don't give a fuck that he's half-giant," Liz hissed, glaring at Dora, very obviously annoyed. Dorea could even feel it on the air, a sudden chill emanating from Liz's direction, a harsh tang like lightning on the air — she felt herself shrinking in her chair, scrambling to try to shield her mind. "I care that he nearly wiped out Isolde's entire tribe because he's a selfish fucking idiot with no thought at all to the consequences of his actions. And I'm fucking tiny, he could probably squish me without even noticing! I'm not sitting next to him."

A few people started speaking all at once — by the sound of it, a mix of chastising Liz and bringing up their own objection with Hagrid being here at all — but before they could get very far Sirius slammed his hands on the table and shoved himself up to his feet. "Here, Liz, trade you." Shuffling out of his spot, he pointed down at the top of Bagnold's head — he'd ended up sitting right next to her. "Millicent Bagnold, you'll like her."

Once Liz and Sirius had both sat down, the atmosphere in the room still felt charged, tension on the air held seconds from snapping. (Hagrid's face had gone very red behind his scruffy beard, hunching down into his chair as much as he was physically capable of.) But Dumbledore immediately called the meeting to order, drawing attention to him, as the moment faded further away the mood gradually cooled. He started off with pleasantries, thanking everyone for coming, and then moved into some quick introductions — there were new people here, after all. Though that didn't take very long, helped along by most of them already being familiar with the new members, if only by reputation.

From there, they transitioned straight into going over developments from their last meeting. Not that there was actually that much new to talk about — it had only been a week. The preparations at the Ministry were continuing as discussed. The process in the Wizengamot to give the DLE more funding hadn't quite gone through yet, but they were acting under the expectation that it was going to — they were already setting up to train more Hit Wizards in advance of the violence, the Aurors were going to be opening up several more spots as well. Someone had added a section to the resolution to reinstitute continuous LEP presence in all population centres, which was controversial, but they expected it to pass anyway.

Bagnold was the first to point out that that was an awful idea. (Her exact phrasing included the word fucking and a suggestion that some members of the Wizengamot had worms eating at their brains.) The actual presence of the Law Enforcement Patrol — the equivalent of ordinary police, more or less — in public places was pretty limited. They had a constant presence in the Ministry itself, and there were a few patrols in some locales around London, especially in Old Town but also in Charing. Sometimes you might see a couple officers keeping an eye on market squares in major cities, like Chester or Edinburgh, but they were quite rare — they had an office in most population centres where anyone could get help or report a crime, but there were normally only a couple officers on duty, and they didn't actively patrol. Dorea could see how people might not like the sudden imposition of the Ministry's officers in their towns, that it might cause unnecessary hostility and paranoia.

Also, there was the very important point of the Gaels: the LEP currently had no visible presence in primarily Gaelic cities. They had offices like everywhere else, but the only place they had routine public postings in was Glasgow, which was a mixed community anyway. The reason for this went back to the Communalist revolt in the first half of the century. To keep a lid on things afterwards, there had actually been Hit Wizards posted in Gaelic population centres, essentially putting them under martial law — the locals, obviously, hadn't been very happy about that. The Ministry had pulled them out back in the 60s as part of a deal with local councils and guilds and priesthoods and things. Since Gaelic areas were still under Ministry authority, the Gaels had agreed to continue observing British law, and call in the LEP or Hit Wizards to deal with enforcement issues, and in exchange the Ministry had removed all active patrols, including the LEP. Starting up patrols again would be breaking the deal.

One could argue that the Gaels had already broken the deal, of course — Saoirse Ghaelach had increasingly started taking up law enforcement duties in the last decade or so, beginning to cut the Ministry out entirely. Saoirse hadn't existed in its current form that far back, and so hadn't been involved in the negotiation of the arrangement at all, but their growing role in keeping the peace was a flagrant imposition on the Ministry's legal authority everywhere they operated. However, the Gaels had continued to observe standing law, Saoirse handing criminals over to the Ministry and sometimes even reporting crimes and leaving it to the proper authorities, so the DLE had just...ignored it. As Dorea understood the situation, Bones reasoned that acting against Saoirse would have only radicalised the nationalists, so as long as Saoirse continued to enforce standing law and involve the Ministry when appropriate, it simply wasn't worth the bother. It seemed enough people in the Wizengamot disagreed with the Director's judgement, and were about to force her hand.

Dorea had a sinking feeling that this was not going to end well.

Changing subjects, one of the things they were trying to do was identify where the Dark Lord's base of operations was located. If they could find it quickly, the Ministry could arrange a raid before the Death Eaters had fully prepared — even if they didn't capture or kill the Dark Lord himself, they could still cause a serious interruption to their operations, which would at least set them back for a time, as well as deny them use of that location going forward. It didn't seem like they were making much progress with that, though. They were aware of the names of most of the Dark Lord's inner circle from the last time around, and they were trying to keep a close eye on them, hoping to find any sign that they were hosting the Dark Lord on their lands, or from their movements to get a hint as to which general region of the country it was located in. So far, they'd managed to eliminate the Malfoys, Selwyns, and Averys as options, and the Ministry had people staking out the former site of the cult's sanctuary — the sanctuary had been abandoned after the raid there early in the first war, the cult of Venatrix Trivia scattered into fragments ever since — but that was all they had so far. There were hints the Dark Lord was in the south of England, but they could be misinterpreting known Death Eaters simply making trips down to London, it was hard to say for sure.

Fletcher was pretty sure they were in the south of England, surprisingly enough. He knew some people who were involved in some under-the-table dealing — nothing illicit, smuggled food and clothing, construction done off the books, mostly to avoid taxes and the like — and there'd been a sudden up-tick in those trades in the last couple weeks. They were very hush-hush about who exactly they were dealing with, and where these shipments were going to. He even suspected some of them might be having their memories altered after the fact — that itself wasn't suspicious, some mages operating in the black market could be very paranoid at times, protecting themselves by making it impossible to be betrayed was perfectly ordinary. The shipments looked like they were going somewhere in the south of England, most likely in the area between London, Oxford, Cambridge, and Leicster. He couldn't be more specific than that though.

...Honestly, Dorea was a little annoyed that Fletcher was actually being useful. She couldn't even be properly annoyed about Dumbledore inviting a professional thief onto their property anymore.

But, for the most part, things were still quiet. They were sure the Dark Lord was making moves, but they were slow, quiet, careful moves, leaving very little in the way of evidence they could find. This early in the process, at least — it was only a matter of time before things started getting loud.

"It does seem that there has been one overt action to discuss," Dumbledore said, sparking interest from several of the more distracted attendees, sitting straight and turning to listen. "Some of you may have heard that Severus arrived at Saint Mungo's on the Fourth, having sustained serious curse damage. It appears he was in some manner of duel — while he was badly injured, he escaped his attacker and remained composed enough to floo himself to emergency reception at the hospital. I understand he has regained consciousness in the last twenty-four hours. Elizabeth?"

There was a clink of ceramic against wood as Liz set down her coffee. She hadn't accepted the tea here, instead asked Nilanse to bring her something — there was a modestly-sized carafe sitting in front of her, Dorea thought she was on her second cup already. "Yeah, ah, he's awake. Still gonna be a mess for a little while, though. Er... What did you want me to tell you, exactly?"

"Some information as to the severity of his injuries would be appreciated. Considering he is your legal guardian, you are the only one here who would have been informed."

"I want to know what the hell happened," Moody grumbled. "If Voldemort is already moving to punish traitors, I have some friends who might need to make themselves scarce."

"Ah, no, it isn't..." Liz sighed. "I don't think the Dark Lord ordered it. Severus said he was meeting up with some of his friends, trying to convince them to, you know, defect. I think he was mostly just hoping to get them out of the fighting, honestly. But anyway, they were offended — like, basically asking them to break their word and whatever, which weird honour-obsessed mages don't take well? — and that turned into an argument, and that turned into a fight. Severus was just being a selfless idiot, the Dark Lord didn't order it or anything."

...Dorea guessed that was one way to put it. Getting more Death Eaters to abandon the Dark Lord would also just be a net benefit to their side, but.

"Um, I might still tell those friends of yours to skip out of the country, if I were you. Just because he's not going for Severus doesn't mean he won't go for anyone else."

Sounding a little amused, Moody said, "I'll take that under advisement, Potter."

"And how is Severus faring?" Dumbledore asked. "I understand his injuries were quite severe."

"He'll live." That wasn't really a satisfactory answer, and obviously Liz realised that — slumped back in her chair, her coffee cupped in both hands, she glared down into it for a long moment. Everyone just waited, seemingly aware that this was difficult for her, giving her time. "His leg was... They had to replace things, a chunk of his femur and muscles and stuff. With fake alchemical shite, fucking stupid they can't do blood alchemy in this backwards fucking country, but whatever." There was some shuffling and hissing around the table at that, some of them clearly displeased with Liz's characterisation of magical Britain, but nobody interrupted. Honestly, Dorea thought some frustration was perfectly understandable, under the circumstances. "Healers think he won't be able to walk on it, he'll need a cane."

...Oh. That was... Dorea honestly didn't know how to feel about that. She'd heard Snape was injured, of course, but the possibility that he might be seriously injured, even crippled from it was...not something that had occurred to her. Snape was...

Well, he was Snape — the man had an intense, cold, confident aura around him, it was difficult to imagine him being...not that. Trying to picture him walking with a cane, like Moody or something, just felt viscerally wrong. Not just out of character, but, it felt too... She didn't know. Dorea was left sitting in her chair, speechless, unsure how to process this new information.

Somehow, she hadn't imagined that Snape would be hurt. He seemed almost untouchable in a way, like he'd always be circling around the classroom, looming over students as they brewed, or sitting still and dark and impassive up at the professors' table at meals, seemingly unaffected by the mood of the rest of the Great Hall, a rock in the middle of the ocean, like he'd still be there the same as always when her grandchildren were at Hogwarts. That he was seriously hurt, permanently injured just felt...wrong, somehow.

Turning over that thought, she missed part of the conversation — mostly people asking further questions or offering Liz condolences, by the sound of it. Dorea wasn't really surprised that Liz brushed off the platitudes, seeming faintly annoyed more than anything. There was a question about how long he'd be in recovery, which was something Dorea was curious about too, Snape not being at Hogwarts when classes started up again would be even more wrong. "They're not sure yet. We'll have to see how he... He should be home in a few days, but he'll still have healing to do, and there's physical therapy and shite, we won't know how it's going until, you know, he's healed enough to try to walk. Um. They think he should be up before the start of term, though. But he might need a little help from the elves to get around, you know, because of all the stairs."

Oh god, the stairs, Dorea hadn't even thought of that. She wondered how disabled students were supposed to get around, before it occurred to her she didn't think she ever had seen a disabled student at Hogwarts. Not in any way that would make stairs a problem, anyway — some people had medical conditions, like Dorea's, and sometimes there were empaths or Seers or the like, who had their own difficulties, but other than that. The only person she could think of she'd seen at Hogwarts who had a problem like that was, well, Moody, there'd never been anyone else.

Was that unusual? She wasn't certain how common that sort of thing was in the first place. And healing was better than muggle medicine in a lot of ways, maybe these things simply weren't a problem...

(At least not for anyone who could afford to go to Hogwarts in the first place, she thought.)

But at least Snape would be returning to Hogwarts — good, that was good. Slytherin House would be strange without him there.

"He's not doing that anymore." Distracted as she'd been by her own thoughts, she'd missed whatever Liz was replying to. But it was made pretty clear what she meant when she continued, "What, he almost died, and you expect him to keep sneaking around spying on criminal types and Death Eaters and whoever else? What if he gets in another fight? He barely got out this time, and he'll be slower with his leg fucked up — if he keeps trying to do stuff for the Order, he's just going to get himself killed."

With a soft tone on his voice that was probably supposed to be reassuring, Sturgis said, "I think we can leave this sort of question until Severus is here himself."

"No, we won't," Liz snapped, glaring at Sturgis — Dorea grimaced as Liz's magic snapped at the air again, cold and angry, ugh, we did that keep happening... "He can't be here today, so he told me to tell you for him. He's out. He said he'll still help with potions and with healing, that kind of thing, but he's not putting himself in danger anymore. He prom—" She cut herself off, the chill of dark magic easing, took a slightly shaky sip of her coffee. Over the next couple seconds, her cheeks started shading pink.

Liz wasn't coming out and saying it, but she wasn't exactly subtle, so Dorea could still guess what had happened. Snape had promised to keep back from the more dangerous parts of the Order's mission, for her — either she'd asked him to, or he'd noticed how obviously shaken up she was about it, Dorea guessed it didn't really matter which. As important as Snape had been for the Order the last time around, that was honestly kind of sweet.

As odd as it was to call anything involving Liz and Snape sweet — neither of them were really the type.

Though, as Dorea thought about it, she wasn't sure if Snape taking a step back was really that much of a problem for the Order. The first time, he'd been a spy within the Dark Lord's court, but that already hadn't been an option anymore: his relationship with Liz had made that impossible, long before the Dark Lord had returned to Britain. He still knew people in the darker corners of magical society, but with the Death Eaters soured on him due to his 'betrayal' — both protecting Liz and spying on them during the first war, since his actions with her retroactively proved which side he'd really been on — there was no telling how successful he would have been with that kind of work anyway. Especially if his relationships with his old friends on that side were deteriorating so badly that they were attempting to kill him...

It probably didn't make much difference for the war effort. Snape was dangerous, yes — he was one of their best fighters, along with Sirius and Moody and Dumbledore himself — but the Order mostly didn't plan on fighting anyway. There were too few of them for that, the most good they could do was through more subtle means. Especially since the Ministry was led by people who were taking the threat seriously from the beginning this time. And, well, being so badly injured would be an impediment to his duelling ability anyway, at least somewhat — Moody couldn't walk unaided either, but nobody would argue he wouldn't be even better if he still had his leg. It wasn't a big deal, Dorea didn't think.

It took a few minutes of discussion, but the Order ended up coming to the same conclusion. Snape was a bloody genius with alchemy and potions, and the best healer they had easy access to. That sort of work was where Snape would be most useful, even before this — honestly, that he was stepping back from situations where they might lose their best healer was probably for the best. There were certain rare skills that really shouldn't be risked like that anyway, the same reason no country expected their wandmakers to go to war.

When she thought about it, if they'd wanted to retain Snape's usefulness as their eyes and ears in darker corners of society, someone else should have taken care of Liz's living situation, so he hadn't been forced to. Snape's effectiveness for the war effort had been crippled inevitably when Dumbledore had sent Liz to live with her relatives — it just wouldn't have been obvious what he was doing at the time.

(Dumbledore's actions concerning Liz way back then had been a huge mistake, this was just one more reason why.)

The subject of Snape's injury was closed pretty soon after that, instead moving on to progress in setting up safehouses. This involved a lot of very specific details about different locations in the country, and setting up the logistics for supplying and protecting them, wards and the like, which was somewhat over Dorea's head. It also didn't help that some of the conversation was circular — their best wardcrafters were Creswell and Bill Weasley, but the latter wasn't here at the moment, so quite often mentions of setting up wards ended with Creswell saying she'd confer with Weasley about it later. Dorea didn't have much to say about any of this. She'd already offered to provide gold to help fund these things, but she wasn't experienced enough to actually know how to go about setting it up. If something seemed like an obvious waste of money, then she'd jump in and say something about it, but she didn't think that was particularly likely to happen. Most of the members present were commoners, who wouldn't be accustomed to having practically limitless gold to work with.

She was listening, but she spent most of the rest of the meeting idly watching Liz — eyes occasionally drawn when Bagnold was speaking, since she had that way of attracting attention. It didn't seem like she was paying any mind at all to the meeting going on around her, slumped deeper into the chair, her fixed on her coffee, taking an occasional slow sip. The redness hadn't gone out of her eyes, and she looked tired. Dorea wouldn't be surprised if she headed straight to bed once the meeting was over.

As much as the Order might have been in a better position if Snape could have kept up his work as a spy, Dorea was pleased that he'd chosen Liz instead. She remembered what Liz had been like when they'd started at school, cold and distant and strange, she'd been literally homeless, and... She'd badly needed a responsible adult in her life. They weren't really friends anymore, they didn't talk much, but Dorea could still tell Snape had made a big difference, for her. It might have been the wrong decision for the Order, but it was the right decision for Liz, and she found she couldn't blame Snape for that.

After all, how could someone be expected to help an entire country if they wouldn't even help the person right in front of them?


Short one for you this time. Going to be a little bit until the next update — I'm going to work on another project, until I get to the end of a planned block of scenes or until I run out of steam. Who knows how long that'll be, we'll see.