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kelly_chambliss (

Oh, this is perfect! Your Moody is so wonderfully IC, and his situation is both hilarious and painful. Transfiguring his flask into whisky-smelling lube -- ha.

Great lines --

Especially he was sporting more wood than just his prosthetic leg.
I'm like Beavis and Butthead when it comes to "wood" puns; they never fail to make me snicker.

For Moody, danger was an aphrodisiac. It was why he'd joined the Aurors in the first place. The thrill of the fight, the rush of adrenaline while chasing a foe, every last minute was all exciting to him. Constant vigilance was a demanding mistress.
This passage just defines Moody for me. Love that last line.

If a Death Eater assassin did show up to murder him in the stalled lift, it might be a kinder fate than dying from blood loss to the brain as it was obvious all of it had converged into his bits.
Haha! I can definitely see Moody as someone who is going to resort to gallows humor no matter what the situation.

His bollocks were so tight, they felt as if they might burst— that was one part of himself Moody preferred not to need replacing.
♥ ♥

And Rufus to the rescue! Yes, I love this fic.

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