[ Remus nods along with the conversation, with his hand on top of his mug on the table to roll it around on its bottom edge as a form of leisurely fidgeting, and takes note—note of Goldstein standing behind Scamander, not leaving him, staying here at all because he wants to trust—and him not charging off into that trust without her, sharing her concern. They come as a set.
That's fair. Two sets of two. For Remus' part, he turns his attention to Sirius when he talks, gaze fixed on his profile even though he's staring at the floor, and picks up the thread of Sirius' response when he falls quiet, as swiftly and easily as if they'd rehearsed it together. ]
That, and what time they wake up from.
[ Would he assent to kill an 11-year-old Tom Riddle, in this new world, where he might grow up to be something altogether different? No. Probably not. Certainly not an 11-year-old Peter Pettigrew—who he won't be volunteering to discuss any further. Peter isn't a matter of wizarding politics or war. Peter is personal. They don't need anyone's help or permission to handle him, except maybe James'. ]
But if we're talking about these men in their prime coming out of those pods, we would have to do something. All of us. Grindelwald... in 1926, he'd already started massacring people, hadn't he? He kept on. He wasn't fully and finally stopped until 1945. [ Sorry about the spoilers for your futures, antique wizards, but also not sorry. It's no one's future anymore. ] Voldemort and his people cared more about hunting down muggle-borns and blood traitors— [ that phrase with a fond half-smile and glance back toward Sirius, like it's a compliment ] —but they took about the same line as Grindelwald on muggle inferiority. They'd kill them and call it sport. I know there are people here who can do things even we can't, and maybe they could stand against them, but people will die if they're given the benefit of the doubt.
—I do realise the irony, when we're asking you to give us just that. [ He finishes off the last cold remnants of his tea and adds, with cavalier cynicism, ] Perhaps we'll be uncharacteristically lucky and it will never be a problem.
[ It would be better keeping with their usual luck to instead have both Dark wizards appear at once, full grown and ready to conquer, maybe holding hands.
Setting the cup down, he pauses to consider—he'd been so prepared to be defensive, to have to answer questions or argue their right to keep some things private, that it hadn't yet occurred to him that they might have the right to ask questions of their own. It does now. He inclines his head to one side, looking between Mr Scamander and Ms Goldstein to include them both. ]
What were you planning to do if Grindelwald turned up?
no subject
That's fair. Two sets of two. For Remus' part, he turns his attention to Sirius when he talks, gaze fixed on his profile even though he's staring at the floor, and picks up the thread of Sirius' response when he falls quiet, as swiftly and easily as if they'd rehearsed it together. ]
That, and what time they wake up from.
[ Would he assent to kill an 11-year-old Tom Riddle, in this new world, where he might grow up to be something altogether different? No. Probably not. Certainly not an 11-year-old Peter Pettigrew—who he won't be volunteering to discuss any further. Peter isn't a matter of wizarding politics or war. Peter is personal. They don't need anyone's help or permission to handle him, except maybe James'. ]
But if we're talking about these men in their prime coming out of those pods, we would have to do something. All of us. Grindelwald... in 1926, he'd already started massacring people, hadn't he? He kept on. He wasn't fully and finally stopped until 1945. [ Sorry about the spoilers for your futures, antique wizards, but also not sorry. It's no one's future anymore. ] Voldemort and his people cared more about hunting down muggle-borns and blood traitors— [ that phrase with a fond half-smile and glance back toward Sirius, like it's a compliment ] —but they took about the same line as Grindelwald on muggle inferiority. They'd kill them and call it sport. I know there are people here who can do things even we can't, and maybe they could stand against them, but people will die if they're given the benefit of the doubt.
—I do realise the irony, when we're asking you to give us just that. [ He finishes off the last cold remnants of his tea and adds, with cavalier cynicism, ] Perhaps we'll be uncharacteristically lucky and it will never be a problem.
[ It would be better keeping with their usual luck to instead have both Dark wizards appear at once, full grown and ready to conquer, maybe holding hands.
Setting the cup down, he pauses to consider—he'd been so prepared to be defensive, to have to answer questions or argue their right to keep some things private, that it hadn't yet occurred to him that they might have the right to ask questions of their own. It does now. He inclines his head to one side, looking between Mr Scamander and Ms Goldstein to include them both. ]
What were you planning to do if Grindelwald turned up?