Order -- dated for after the patronus?
James rapped his fingers quickly on the counter of the bar, watching the doorway as the Order members slowly trickled in. He knew it was the middle of the bloody day and people were at work and couldn't just up and leave, but seeing as the Order had a bit of a reputation of being jobless members of society, James had become accustomed to immediate reactions.

And he was fucking pissed off, so his patience was running very, very thin.

He'd been angry about the M.A.G.I.C. Act, he had been furious, but for the most part, James had kept a level head so that Lily didn't completely lose her mind. He was being a good spouse that way, remaining calm and giving some sort of clear point of view, but fuck if he could continue doing that. There was no way he would allow his wife to live in some complex that would most likely be guarded by death eaters that had infiltrated the ministry, while the rest of her rights as a witch were being stripped away and---he and Lily already had a target on their back, and sticking her in a place where they knew your every bloody mood--

His head snapped up as someone slid onto the seat beside him, and James let out a strong breath from his nose, looking back down. The wards on the bar made any visitor who wasn't in the Order turn away with the thought of missing a healer appointment, so James felt no worry in blurting,

"I'm ready to fucking kill someone."