Shades of Gray

Summary: "Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were best friends. Why, then, despite everything, did it take Remus so long to believe Sirius's innocence in Prisoner of Azkaban? It all began on a night a year before the first war, when Remus made a startling discovery..." Long, dark, plotty, and although it may be a little far-fetched, NOT an AU.

Author's notes: This story just about killed me to write it, and after all that effort, my giftee (Who Shall Not Be Named) disappeared from the exchange with no explanation. Grrr. But anyway, this is my first finished piece of Harry Potter fanfic that is not a one-shot, and I'm very proud of it. All reviews will be very much appreciated! Thanks to V.M. Bell for being the best beta of EVAR. Enjoy!

SHADES OF GRAY

Disclaimer: Last time I checked, my initials weren't JKR, unfortunately! I'm only playing in her sandbox. All I own is this plot bunny! XD

PART ONE

Prologue: A Spy in the Order's Court

"I only want followers who will be loyal to me, and me alone."

"I know this, Lord. You can trust me."

"How can I, when you know him so well? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't murder you right now." If his curiosity weren't so piqued, he would have already.

The figure gave many reasons, and upon the end, Voldemort smiled. It was not a pleasant smile, and if it weren't Voldemort, it wouldn't have been called a smile at all.

"Listen well, for I am only going to say this once. Your life will depend on how accurately you remember." Without waiting for the other to respond, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named continued, "Here is what I command of you..."

July 19^th, 1980

Remus Lupin had a headache.

If he didn't know better, he would've attributed it to the manticore that sometimes liked to take up residence in his head. Unfortunately, he could only link it to the Very Bad Day he'd been having. The only good thing he could say about it was that it was nearing completion, but this small light at the end of a very dark, gloomy tunnel was ruined with the knowledge that there was still time for something else to happen. Knowing the way his luck--if he could even call it that--had been going, it was probably going to be Something Highly Unpleasant.

Things had been so much easier for him--for all of them, really--when he had been in his early years at Hogwarts. Well, he'd still been a werewolf then, so he supposed he had never known what "easy" meant, but for the first time in his life, Remus Lupin Had Friends. He liked to gloss over the initial months, when James and Sirius had hated each other with a passion and he'd been the one trying to keep the peace in the dorms (Peter had been more or less useless). They were so focused on despising each other that they tended to ignore him and Peter both, but he reasoned that it was better to be ignored than to be the recipient of their vitriolic feelings. Then, one day, they had gotten into a disastrous fight over Something Petty and they'd beaten each other up pretty badly (both Sirius and James tended to resort to fists in fits of irrational anger). They had both been embarrassed--and rightfully so. Shamefaced, they accepted Dumbledore's punishment and apologized to each other, and somehow, someway, a shaky truce formed between the pair and an intense friendship gradually developed.

On paper, the friendship shouldn't have worked. The Blacks and the Potters hated each other as much as the Weasleys and the Malfoys did. Like the Malfoys, the majority of the Blacks were known supporters of You-Know-Who and the Potters were known antagonists, and like most feuds it began over something stupid that Remus could no longer remember, since it dated back a few generations ago at least. Now, it was one of those simple facts of life--the sun rose and set each day, and Blacks never befriended Potters. It was a friendship that had shocked the school to the core and had led the Slytherins to despise Sirius even more. Not that Sirius had cared--he'd had James, and Remus and Peter soon joined them.

If only things were still that carefree. Remus doubted that any of them had expected to be in the place where they were now, trying to stop the threat of You-Know-Who, murder any Death Eaters they came across, and avoid being murdered by them. And then there were James and Lily, happily married, and Remus, Sirius, and Peter hardly ever saw them anymore. When James wasn't away at Auror training, he was home with Lily. They were together at Order meetings, and occasionally the four of them had a night out, but it was clear that James was reluctant to do anything without Lily unless he couldn't avoid it. Sirius had a naturally jealous and suspicious nature that he was able to violently suppress most of the time, but he tended to be possessive of all four of them, most especially James.

Which reminded Remus of why he had a headache to begin with.

Tonight had been their first night off in weeks, and Sirius had been whining at James all day about how he should hang out with them just this once so it could be like old times.

"I'm a married man now, Sirius," James had said, as if that explained everything. It should have, but Sirius was determined to be thick.

"So?" Sirius had persisted. "Just one night, one little night. Please, Prongs?"

"You're whining like a dog, Padfoot," Remus had pointed out, intentionally alluding to Sirius' Animagus form. "It really isn't an attractive quality."

That had not been the right thing to say.

"So you're on his side, too? You don't want to spend time together either?"

Remus had sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming. It seemed that the manticore was at it again. "That is not what I meant, and you know it. Stop guilt tripping James--you know he hasn't really seen Lily all week."

After more exaggerated pouting, Sirius had finally given in, but the atmosphere had been a little frosty after that. Remus had no doubt what Sirius was doing with his night, and it probably involved lots of alcohol and a girl (or two).

Remus had never enjoyed parties, but they had always been Sirius' guilty pleasure. Padfoot didn't go to bars often, but when he did, he always went all out, and because Remus was the Sympathetic One of the group, he usually went to him when he was suffering the consequences of his actions. It had been an ambition of Sirius's to get Remus trashed ("Come on, it'll be fun...you need to loosen up a bit, let your wild wolf personality come out and play") but Remus didn't see what was so entertaining about getting smashed and puking your guts out afterwards while a mountain troll beat a club against your skull.

He'd explained this patiently to Sirius, who had only said, "You're missing the point, Moony. It's the getting smashed that's the fun part! And the women, of course," he'd added, a wistful look on his face.

Remus had resisted adding, what parts in particular? Sirius probably would have told him, and he decided he really didn't need that detailed of an account.

Remus loved Sirius as much as the rest of the Marauders, but there was a part of Sirius that had never grown up, despite his awful family. Remus, on the other hand, had been forced to face the cruel realty of life too soon--the werewolf had bitten him so early that he had no recollection of what an existence without the transformation would have been like. He supposed he should be thankful that his parents loved him anyway and had not thrown him away like a piece of clothing that no longer fit.

Still, he could not help but envy Sirius his happy-go-lucky lifestyle when they weren't in Auror training or on dangerous reconnaissance missions for the Order. He hated himself for being jealous of his friends, but each one of them--with the exception of Peter, perhaps--had things he couldn't afford. Sirius had his recklessness and James had Lily.

He couldn't even afford his own home. All his friends had offered to give him free room and board, but Remus hated charity more than anything even if they were his friends. So Dumbledore had said he could live at Order Headquarters, telling him it was probably best someone did reside there permanently in case an Order member was injured, or had a message, or just needed a place to spend the night. This had made Remus feel marginally better about the arrangement, and he felt that he was actually contributing something to the Cause outside of training.

The location of Headquarters was quite ingenious, really. They had all decided not to use Hogwarts--it was far too obvious, and they didn't want the students aware of it. Located in the countryside of Kent and not too far from Dover, it was a small house that had belonged to Aberforth, Dumbledore's brother. Aberforth had another place in London, but he was never in one place for long and had given them his other house because the Order had been in a desperate need for one. It was the last place You-Know-Who would think to search, and it was so heavily protected with wards and magic that it didn't even appear on a map.

A sudden crack of Apparition forcefully extricated Remus from the tangled mess that was his thoughts, and an icy cold swept over him as if a Dementor had glided into the room. Usually, Dumbledore alerted him in advance when he thought Order members were dropping by so Remus could make himself available if they needed assistance, since Dumbledore rarely was. Of course, there had been times when Dumbledore couldn't inform him, but unexpected arrivals always announced themselves immediately.

This one hadn't.

But it had to be a member of the Order...no one else knew where their Headquarters was, and the magic around the house was so powerful that you would not be able to find it unless you knew exactly where it was, even if you were a wizard.

So who could it be?

A part of Remus wanted to call out and demand the intruder state who he was, but he realized that would be a very stupid thing to do especially if, somehow, the mysterious person weren't a member of the Order.

His breathing was quickening rapidly, and his heart was beating like a drum against his chest. He could hide or Disapparate--even if the loud crack rather defeated the purpose of a Sneaky Escape--but he was a Gryffindor, and according to the Gryffindor Code of Conduct, he had to be Brave And Heroic (translated by the Slytherins as Being Incredibly Stupid).

The Gryffindor part of him won.

He crept to the kitchen, and when he peeked in, felt his heart drop out of his chest and splatter all over the ground.

Bloody hell!

The Something Highly Unpleasant had actually happened, was now sprawled on his kitchen floor, and for once, Remus's cool logic turned tail and fled out the back door. He realized in hindsight that he probably should've planned for something like this, but he'd never thought it to be possible.

What in Merlin's name should I do?

It wasn't a foolproof plan by any means, but then again, even the best-laid plans depended on actions that couldn't be relied upon - and this one was no different.

Even so, the figure was certain that the outcome would be in his favor. He had an inside source--and an unexpected inside source at that--and he was far more clever than anyone gave him credit for.

He was tired of being forgotten, being looked over, being nothing more than an Unimportant Shadow. By the end, they would all regret that they had ever ignored him and treated him as though he were inferior, and the best part of it was that they wouldn't even know it was him.

He supposed that was contradictory, but it was the nature of his work for no one to know. That was the beauty of it. Oh, he would leave clues.

Plenty of clues.

He doubted any of them would have the brains to follow the trail, except perhaps for one.

It was a simple plan, really. All he was doing was starting at the core of the Resistance and ripping it apart. It was going to be the ripple effect at work on a grand scale. A masterpiece--his masterpiece.

At the end of it all, he would stand bathed in the ecstasy of success, and then they would know. But it would be too late.

He rubbed his hands together, barely able to contain his glee, looking like a child who had learned that the Winter Solstice was to come twice a year.

Oh, but this was going to be fun.

There were many ways Remus could have approached the Something Bad in his kitchen, and all the scenarios in his head involved a wand, Avada Kedavra, and a flash of green light. However, this was not in Remus's nature, and not for the first time, he found himself wondering what the hell he thought he was doing as an Auror. He needed Sirius, or James--he doubted Peter would be able to Avada a cockroach, let alone...

"Severus?"

No, that was definitely not how this was supposed to go. Strike one, Remus.

At this point, he was well on his way to asking the Death Eater to tea.

He lifted his wand, trying to ignore how his hand was shaking.

It was most definitely Severus, but it was clear Something Was Not Right. For one, Remus realized with a start, the man appeared to be unconscious. He hadn't even acknowledged his presence--very out of character--and hadn't even moved from his sprawled position on the kitchen floor.

So now he had a seriously injured Death Eater in Headquarters--

And that thought reminded him of why he had been frightened in the first place. Was this an infiltration? Were there more of them? How had they even found this place to begin with?

Well, there was really only one thing to do, and Remus decided it was a good thing he weren't Sirius or James. In typical Gryffindor fashion, they would have acted first and not had the chance for questions, and while Remus had wished for that outcome before, he realized he had a Golden Opportunity before him.

His keen sense of smell also detected blood--the air around Severus was thick with it.

Hm...very curious, indeed.

Maybe this wasn't going to be that bad after all.

Crouching beside the man, Remus could now see the blood pooling around him and wondered how he had not noticed that before. But that could be taken care of later, if there was a later. Now, he needed answers.

"Ennervate."

Severus Snape awakened with a groan and fluttering eyelids, wondering why it felt like he'd been trampled on by a Thestral and, oh, a curse on his lips for whoever the unfortunate being had been who had drawn him out of his peaceful bliss--

Until he focused on the face that swam into his vision and saw that it was none other than Remus Lupin. Lupin!

Oh, bloody fuck.

He remembered now that the werewolf had taken up permanent residence at Headquarters and tried to decide if he could grab his wand and Disapparate to Hogwarts, despite the walk he knew he wouldn't be able to make from the Forbidden Forest (which had been why he had chosen to go to Headquarters and risked being seen so he could fix himself up before making the trek to Dumbledore).

But, out of all of them, he supposed he should be thankful that it was Lupin, and not Black or Potter, both of whom had the intelligence of a mountain troll.

Before the werewolf could get a word in, Severus raised his head despite the dizziness that quickly descended upon him and tried to say, "Lupin..." but didn't get much further before he was plagued with a fit of coughing.

Oh, yes, the Dark Lord hadn't been happy with him tonight. Not at all...

It hadn't been as bad as it could have been. At least he'd heard half of that blasted Prophecy, and of course, he and Dumbledore had staged the whole thing so that he wouldn't have been able to hear all of it anyway. He at least had something to bring back to the Dark Lord. Naturally, Dumbledore wasn't entirely omniscient and hadn't known their plan would work, but the old man had been counting on that old bird Trelawney for that prophecy and naturally someone had seen him in his Highly Suspicious Position, and Severus had consequently been thrown out. Dumbledore hadn't told him the rest of it, hadn't even let on that he'd been able to hear the rest of it, and he had been willing to accept the punishment for their decision.

But, seeing as how the Dark Lord had an all-and-nothing-else philosophy, he'd clearly not been Death Eating on a high enough level.

And, oh, how it hurt--

"S-Snape?"

Oh, right. Lupin. He had to deal with the bloody werewolf first before planning his next move. Move...that was a good one...

"Are you all right, Snape?"

Severus blinked at him. No, I feel like I've just been torn to bits and been put back together like a Picasso, I can barely move and I'm here in Headquarters with the werewolf who tried to fucking kill me...does this sound bloody all right to you?

But as he lifted his head and felt the blackness tugging at the edges of his vision once more, all he could manage was, "Need...Blood Replenishing and Cruciatus After Effects Potions..."

And then he proceeded to pass out.

Again.

When he finally regained consciousness--he had no idea how long he'd been out of it--it was to find that most of his hurts had vanished, the blood had been cleaned up, and the only thing that remained besides an overwhelming weariness was a slight lingering tremor from the Cruciatus. Lupin must have done a pretty decent job patching him up, and Severus decided he really didn't want to know how the werewolf had gone about it and what he had seen while doing it.

He was lying on a well-sized bed in a small room, furnished with a desk in the corner and several pictures on the wall. From his peripheral vision, he could see Lupin sitting in a chair beside him, a book in his hands. So the man had been keeping a close watch on him. Well, that was good--if he were in the other man's place, Severus wouldn't trust himself either.

But that was the trick, wasn't it?

He needed Lupin to trust him, despite the fact he really couldn't stand being in the same room with him for more than a second at most. Yet how was he going to get the man to look past the bloody mark on his arm?

And why was he so fucking nervous about all this?

Damn it all to hell...

"Snape," Lupin said calmly, setting his book to the side and looking at him emotionlessly. The expression on his face was more than a little disconcerting. "I can see you're awake. I have healed you to the best of my abilities, and while it is not my nature to kick a man while he's down, I want to know what the hell you're doing here, and the least you owe me is the truth."

Decidedly not friendly. Well, there was nothing for it, really.

Pushing himself up on the bed and turning to stare defiantly at the werewolf, Severus said, "I really don't like this, but I am going to be blunt and get to the point, and although it is a point you probably won't like, all I ask is for you to hear me out before you stick your nose in with objections." He was aware he was rambling and wasn't really being blunt at all, something he tended to do when he was feeling nervous, and he certainly hadn't expected to be nervous. For Salazar's sake, this was Lupin--he had faced down the Dark Lord numerous times and had somehow managed to always keep a cool demeanor.

But Lupin is your only hope...

"I'm a spy for Dumbledore, Lupin," he said succinctly, forcing his unease away.

The werewolf blinked at him, opened and shut his mouth, and then proceeded to stare some more. It was quite awkward, really, and made Severus more than a little uncomfortable. "I admit I went into the Dark Lord's service fully on my own volition. In short, I was young and stupid. I'm probably still young and stupid, but I saw that as my only path to follow at the time. I will not explain my actions to you nor attempt to justify my behavior. All I can say is that Dumbledore has placed his full faith in me, and if that isn't enough for you, I don't know what else I can say."

Lupin just sat back in his chair, clearly struggling to take all this and its implications in. Finally, he managed, "Of all the ways I had imagined this would go, this was hardly it. But...I mean...you're spying on the You-Know-Who, right?"

Sighing somewhat exasperatedly, Severus said, "Yes, I do believe that is what I just said, Lupin. I'm so happy to hear that your ability to comprehend English is still intact..."

Lupin ignored his obvious hostility. "What I meant to say was...you're lying...to You-Know-Who? The greatest Legilimens, greater even than Dumbledore?"

Despite the potions Lupin had given him, Severus felt his weariness catch up to him and breathed another sigh, trying to squash his irritation. Unpleasant though it was, it would do no good to sever the hope that this situation had presented. The fact he had been in Slytherin aside, Severus absolutely hated depending on others and having to ask for help--his lip almost curled with disdain at the thought--but the knowledge that Dumbledore was his only true ally had been wearing him to the bone. What if anything happened to the older wizard? Then what would become of him?

"Yes, Lupin. I am...one of the reasons why things have been looking up for the Order, so to speak. I am of the Dark Lord's Inner Circle and a master Legilimens and Occlumens myself. This way, I can protect important information of the Order and feed him anything I want. Some of it is partly true, but most of it is misleading. I do not know if he suspects me...he has not shown that he has, but, then, the Dark Lord works in mysterious ways. If I am found out..." He paused to shudder, and Severus was not given to theatrics--this constant fear haunted his waking and sleeping hours--"I do not wish to know what he will do to me."

Lupin continued to study him, his thoughtful brown eyes full of intense concentration. "And you said Albus trusts you? Implicitly?"

Lips pursed, Severus muttered, "Yes, I believe he does." This had been a constant point of contention between him and the older wizard. Yes, Albus believed him. But Severus did not think himself worthy to be believed, or redeemed. "However, if you do not, I implore you to question Dumbledore first before deciding on the next course of action to handle me."

It was the closest to begging Severus would go with Lupin. He had been...much more desperate with Albus and had been ashamed of his conduct later. He would not make that mistake with the werewolf and give the man something to use against him later.

It was obvious Lupin was struggling to come to grips with what he'd said as the battle raged silently in his eyes.

But then his old enemy did a most surprising thing. Speaking somewhat hesitantly, Lupin offered, "I am not quite sure what I think now, but I do rather think that if your intention had been...well...that if you had wanted to murder me, you would have already done so. I will say that I will bring up the matter with Albus. But you look just about done in, Snape. If you don't...if you'd rather not Apparate to Hogwarts right away, I can offer you this bed to sleep in if you'd like a couple hours' rest."

The extension of the proverbial olive branch shocked Severus, but he kept his emotions in check. This could merely be some ploy of Lupin's, to get him to accept so he could call the Aurors on him while he was slumbering.

But...Severus really was tired, and he didn't really want to face another interrogation from Dumbledore right at the moment. If he'd been more refreshed, if he hadn't just suffered a night of torture at the hands of the Dark Lord, if he hadn't just had that bizarre conversation with Lupin, he was sure he'd be thinking more clearly. As it was, his response surprised himself as much as Lupin's.

"I--ordinarily I would say no, but seeing as how things are...are you expecting any company?"

"No," Lupin confirmed, adding, "someone...unexpected could always drop in, but I think you should be safe for an hour or two if you so desire."

This was very Slytherin of Lupin, Severus admitted to himself, although he would never say this to the werewolf out loud. They were both testing each other, and there was no need to let the other know. At this point, Severus was craving the sleep and almost welcomed the risk as something else to focus on.

"Very well, Lupin," he said, "I accept your--hospitality."

Lupin gave a forced smile - not fake, but definitely not genuine. "If you need anything, I shall be around. I would appreciate it if you would tell me when you were leaving, however."

Severus nodded. "I shall."

Palpable tension pulsed through the room as Lupin rose from his chair and left without another word.

Severus couldn't help but think that Dumbledore had somehow arranged this, hoping that the two of them would come to some sort of agreement without the old man's direct intervention.

They would be exchanging words later, that was for sure, but sleep was going to have to come first, even in the werewolf's lair.

Peter Pettigrew had known, even during First Year, that the Marauders had included him in their little group out of pity.

They didn't speak of it, but it was clear they saw him to be the Weakest Link. He admitted to himself that he hadn't really done that much to disabuse them of this label they'd assigned him--he'd just stopped trying to prove to them that he was on their level and let them underestimate him. Better that than constant humiliation. So he let them think that his brain was only able to recall when the next meal was, let them think he had not much more to contribute to their conversations than echoes and laughter, and let them think that he really was as dumb as he looked.

But Peter knew better.

There was a reason, after all, why his Animagus was a rat.

Yes, rats were ugly, but they were clever and rarely got caught. The only one who'd seen this was the Sorting Hat, and the blasted thing had tried to convince him that he had the mind for Slytherin. Yet Peter had known that the Gryffindors would accept him as one of their own and the Slytherins would scorn him based on his appearance--in short, not the best situation for keeping friends close and enemies closer.

Of course, Peter hadn't planned on joining the Dark Lord either. He had merely been playing both sides of the chessboard.

But there was no use dwelling on the past: what was done was done. He would make them sorry for daring to pity him, and by the end, they would be the ones pleading with him for mercy.

The thought of the power that had been promised him sent shudders of delight through him. What they didn't know was definitely going to hurt, and Peter wasn't going to miss it for the world.

When this was all over, his old friends weren't even going to know what hit them, and Peter was never going to let them forget.

"Come now, Albus...what did he tell you to get you to trust him?"

Remus was sitting in Albus's office, having come to him as soon as he'd been able to sift through his strange encounter with Snape. He wanted to believe the wizard, he truly did, wanted to believe him because of the asset he would be to their side. But something just didn't make sense.

If Snape had been so determined to become a Death Eater, and had even gone into You-Know-Who's service willingly, what could possibly have given the man reason to turn? One simply didn't leave You-Know-Who.

But Snape hadn't, had he?

He was still working under him, just not for him. Or so Snape said. Of all the things that Snape had revealed to him, the one that boggled him above all others was that the man was lying, lying to You-Know-Who. If Snape could lie to him, what was to say he couldn't lie to Albus, that he hadn't fed some tall tale to Remus?

And if he wasn't lying...how could one fool You-Know-Who and live to tell about it?

Albus sighed as he peered sagely at Remus over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "I really wish you would ask Severus, but he would probably not inform you and I sense you need to have some closure. Know that I tell you this only because I trust you not to show any hint to Severus of what I have disclosed, or I fear he will lose his already meager trust in me."

"You have my word, Albus. I shall not tell him. I just need to know--he seemed sincere, but he's an Occlumens, Albus! What is to say he is not fooling you?" Remus cried, finally unable to hold this preying thought in any longer.

Albus' eyes held none of his infamous twinkle. "If you had seen him the night he came to me, you would know yourself. It was an act, yes, an act of desperation. He remembered all their names, Remus. All the names of those he had murdered and helped to torture. As to why he joined the Dark Lord in the first place, that I can't disclose, and should be left to Severus alone to reveal. However, there is one thing I have to request of you."

Oh no.

Remus didn't have to be a Seer to tell what was coming. Yes, he had patched Snape up and offered him a place to sleep, but it was more of a test than a display of goodwill.

But what Snape had told him made sense, hadn't it? If murder were in the Death Eater's plans, wouldn't Remus have been a dead man already?

"All I ask is that you try to become somewhat more amicable. You do not need to become friends or spend quality time with each other--" The twinkle was shining through the clouds at this point " - but he needs someone other than me, Remus. You and possibly young Lily Potter are the only ones who would be most willing to accept him. He would never tell you as much because that is not his way, but it would make his job easier if he had someone else to go to besides myself."

"Albus, no offense intended, but you have got to be off your rocker! I'm the werewolf who almost killed him in the Whomping Willow, remember? Never mind all the prank wars between him and the Marauders. He would never be able to confide that much in me!" Remus tried to protest feebly.

And of course, I don't really want to confide that much in him. Besides, what would the Marauders think?

No, such a thing would certainly not keep his friendships in tact.

Remus was kindhearted, but not that much...

Albus gazed at him seriously, and Remus could have sworn the old man was reading his thoughts like a book with his Legilimency. He felt marginally ashamed.

"I suppose I can make an effort," Remus hedged, cursing Albus silently for making him feel so guilty over Snape.

"Wonderful!" Albus exclaimed, the Twinkle completely back on duty.

Well, what his friends didn't know couldn't hurt them, Remus thought, and chances were Snape wouldn't want to speak to him anymore anyway.

With the odds undoubtedly high in his favor, Remus was willing to take the risk.

October 1^st, 1980

It was a dark night, and had the two figures been standing in any place that was not Knockturn Alley, people would have been shooting them highly suspicious looks.

Seeing as how they were in Knockturn Alley, the quintessential place for Highly Suspicious People, they were not even looked at once.

Which was the idea, of course.

"I'm glad we could meet here--it's hard to be secret when you are constantly around people."

"And to be constantly surrounded by fools! Ha. In the end we will have the last laugh, and what a laugh it will be!"

"I hope I get to be there to see the looks on their faces. I always love a good joke."

"Oh, yes," the short pudgy man said gleefully, rubbing his short pudgy hands together, "but moving on to other matters. I am certain that we have not been found out. What should our next course of action be?"

"Well," reasoned his much taller companion, "what we need is someone who is easily influenced."

"Well, he should not be hard to find," said the other, his words wrapped in a sneer.

"True indeed. This will take planning, and you'd better be a good enough actor. A lot of this depends on you."

"Of course I can be good enough," the short one snapped, "I know the risks."

"As do I," said the other. "Now here is what we are going to do..."

To Be Continued!

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