Paying Your Dues

George looked up at the clanging of the dungeon door. The warden strode in, closely tailed by a new wizard who was wearing sharp robes, of what looked to be very fine grade wool, with a thin pinstripe decoration. His shoes were fine purple leather, and he was carrying a dragon hide scroll case, but what really caught George's attention was the wig: old, white, powdered, and made of warthog bristles, it was that most feared of symbols, the badge of a very expensive solicitor.

George glanced over at Fred, who was scowling at the new man, but otherwise remained still, and then looked back at the visitor. They stared through the bars at each other for a few moments.

After some time, the guard coughed.

"Yes, thank you. Leave us."

The guard looked startled. "Now look here, you can't just..."

"Expect to be left alone with two young criminals? No, of course not." While the solicitor was saying this, he palmed some gold galleons to the guard, who looked at them sitting in his hand as if they might suddenly explode.

"You have somewhere you have to be? Is that correct?" asked the solicitor, in a tone George had last heard come from Snape. As if his nerves hadn't had enough punishment already.

The guard vacillated between glaring at the boys, and being astonished at the money in his hand. The solicitor waited patiently. George and Fred watched carefully.

The guard came to a decision. "Right you are then. I need to pop off to the restroom. Generally takes about 15 minutes. No leaving before then." He started to leave, before swinging back toward the twins and adding, "Especially you two." before resuming his march to the exit.

Nothing was said till the door clanged shut. "Naturally two such... inquisitive boys as yourselves are pondering the possibilities inherent in my attendance."

"Yeah, we were wondering what you were doing here," said Fred, who was finally showing signs of life.

"I have been asked to act as a liaison between yourselves and certain interested parties."

"Always happy to attend an interesting party," George said. "Got any fire whiskey?"

Their visitor's face darkened slightly. "I did not mean to imply there would be any celebration."

George leaned against the bars. "Might be. If you get us off."

"Too old. Not my type." said Fred. They both snickered, and George felt somehow lighter. It seemed Fred had decided to forgive him.

"Very well. As you are clearly more interested in languishing in these cells than ever walking free in daylight again, I shall take my leave of you." The lawyer turned and began to stride away.

George sucked in his breath. "WAIT!"

The solicitor paused, but didn't turn. "Yes?"

George looked over at Fred, and by mutual unspoken consent, babbled out an apology. "Who's our benefactor?" he asked.

"The Daily Prophet."

Fred gaped. "You what?"

George tried to wrap his head around the concept. He failed completely. "The Daily Prophet?" he repeated slowly.

"As I said."

The solicitor waited, and George suspected that he and Fred were meant to be adding something to the dialogue, but he was coming up painfully short.

When it became obvious that neither twin had anything to say, the solicitor decided to provoke some conversation. "The Daily Prophet wishes to help you resolve your current... dilemma. It is their desire to see the laws on tax returns brought up to date, and your case provides a focus for public attention."

Fred cut to the heart of the matter. "You mean they messed up and they want to use us to fix their image problem."

"What's in it for us?"

"Release from jail, the return of your business chattels, pardon of all charges, and of course, limitless publicity for your business."

George whistled. Limitless publicity. There had to be a catch there somewhere. "And what do we have to do to get all this help?"

"Simply grant the newspaper exclusive rights to any interviews."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Any interviews about Harry, right?"

"That is correct. Any information you have to share about Mr. Potter will from now on be the exclusive domain of The Daily Prophet, as will any interviews granted by Mr. Potter himself. "

Ah. That was one hell of catch. And of course they couldn't possibly agree without...

"You will of course wish to speak with Mr. Potter himself regarding the arrangement," said their solicitor.

Funny that, thought George, how he was already thinking of the man as 'their' lawyer'.

"Yes," they both answered.

The door to the holding cells opened with more noise than was necessary, the guard arrived, peered suspiciously at all three of them to make sure they were all really still there, then he escorted their solicitor from the building.

"Interesting," said George.

"I thought so," said Fred.

"Guess all we can do now is wait for Harry."

"Guess so."

There was silence for a minute.

Eventually Fred said, "Want to play 'I Spy'?"