Darkness and Light 03: If We Survive

Chapter Nine: Sigh-Tempests

"I don't believe it! That's the second time this week!"

Tony slammed the lid back down and cursed bitterly. "I spent three bloody hours nursing this batch. Then I leave the room for ten minutes and it goes flat on me."

"Pity, that," said Fred sympathetically.

"Yeah," agreed George. With deft movements he chopped up the last of his dried dragon liver and added it to the seething cauldron in front of him. "Funny how that happens. Oh, and by the way, Tony old man -- when you see Peg, would you mind telling her we need another few jars of salamander blood?"

Maud pretended to tidy her workbench, but all the while she was biting her lip in an effort to keep from laughing. Outwardly, Fred and George maintained every appearance of polite amiability; but their sly mockery of Tony's quirks became more blatant every day.

"Enough of your cheek, lads," said Tony. His voice was level, but a dark flush crept along his jaw as he spoke. "Just keep to your own work, and let me take care of mine." He glanced at Maud, said in a lower voice, "I'm counting on you to keep these two in line, love. Don't disappoint me." Then he turned on his heel and strode out.

Under other circumstances, Maud might have felt sorry for Tony. After working so long with only Sarah and Maud, he had been ill-prepared to deal with the exuberant Weasley twins. Not only were they younger, quicker, and funnier than he was, but they had their own definite ideas about how to do things, and their blithe disregard for established procedures had come as a considerable shock to Tony's supervisory ego. Even worse, it was soon embarrassingly clear that their daredevil approach to potion-making worked just as well as, or even better than, Tony's more careful and systematic methods.

But that had been just the beginning of Tony's troubles. Early on, he made the cardinal mistake of threatening Fred and George with dismissal if they didn't shape up and conform to his expectations; the twins had (correctly) objected that there was nothing wrong with the quality of their work and that their assignments were always finished on time; and in the end the matter had gone all the way to Glossop, who flatly stated that the Department had no other qualified workers to take the Weasleys' place, and Tony would just have to deal with them as best he could.

Which meant that Tony was effectively robbed of power in his own lab, and both he and the Weasley twins knew it. Maud would never forget the day, not long afterward, when Fred and George played one outrageous practical joke too many, and Tony's patience finally snapped. All traces of his characteristic bonhomie vanished, and in a series of blunt, scathing sentences he told the twins precisely what he thought of them.

"You're not at bloody Hogwarts anymore!" he raged. "So you can stop being a couple of immature prats and do as you're told, the way you're told! And until you do, don't expect me to give you any serious assignments, because with your attitude I wouldn't trust you to pick your noses without supervision! I don't know what Glossop was thinking when she hired you, because if I had anything to say about it, you'd be scouring cauldrons for the rest of your bloody lives --"

At last Tony had finished ranting and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. There was a moment of profound silence. Then Fred had looked at George and said matter-of-factly, "You realise, of course, this means war."

Up to that point the twins' rebellion had consisted mostly of good-natured teasing and a few lunch-hour pranks. Now, however, they baited Tony mercilessly. Not only did they ignore his prohibitions against unsupervised experimentation in the lab -- often with spectacular results -- but they actually made friends with his nemesis, Peg McGillicuddy.

Not that it had been difficult. Personally, Maud had never had a problem with Peg or her supplies; she simply hadn't thought it prudent to draw Tony's attention to the fact. But the twins had been shameless about it. They'd brought Peg flowers, flattered her outrageously, and even taken her out to lunch. Now the old supply nurse thought Fred and George were wonderful, and provided them with the best ingredients on a moment's notice.

For a while Tony had seemed to be mellowing a little where Peg was concerned; now, however, the mere mention of her name made him grind his teeth. The only way he could save face whenever Fred or George touched that particular sore spot was to walk away -- and the twins had quickly learned to take advantage of the fact.

George looked back at the closed door, an appraising glint in his eye. "How long d'you think he'll be gone this time?"

"Dunno," said Fred. "Ten, fifteen minutes?"

"Long enough." George whipped a little book out of his sleeve, began leafing eagerly through the pages. "Right. Half a pound of dried dragon liver, six inches of fire crab intestines, two cups of clabbert pus, and a fresh ashwinder egg --"

"What's that?" Maud asked. "Don't tell me you stole Tony's secret recipes."

"Not ruddy likely!" scoffed George, as Fred began deftly measuring and adding the rest of the ingredients. "Who needs them, when we've got this?" He grinned affectionately at the leather-bound volume he held. "You know, I like my granddad-in-law more and more every day. Pity he's dead."

Maud was startled. "You mean that recipe came from Prospero Peachtree?"

"Yup." George waved the book at her. "Jennet's aunt found this when she was sorting through his things -- it's got all kinds of great stuff in it. Fred and I have been trying out some of these potions on weekends, and they're wicked." He grinned maniacally. "Let's just say Mum doesn't have to worry about gnomes in the garden any more."

"'Course," said Fred reflectively, peering into the cauldron, "she doesn't have to worry about the garden either..."

"I'd no idea Peachtree was so good at potions," said Maud. "Wasn't he on the Committee for Experimental Charms?"

For a moment George frowned at her, evidently perplexed by her ignorance; then his face cleared and he said, "Oh, of course. I forgot -- you weren't at his memorial. Yeah, he was on the Committee, all right. But that didn't stop him experimenting with every other kind of magic as well, when it came to his big obsession."

"Which was?" asked Maud, curiously.

Fred coughed. "Think it's ready," he said. "Want to have a go?"

"Yeah," said George. He glanced over at Maud. "Wish me luck," he said, taking a beaker of yellow, gently fizzing liquid from Fred's gloved hand. "Bottoms up --" and he poured the potion straight down his throat.

There was a moment's silence, while George swallowed, winced, and blinked. "Dunno," he said. "Maybe we missed an ingredient." He took a step closer to the cauldron, as though to look inside; then all at once he hiccuped, and belched an enormous gout of dazzling white fire straight into Fred's face.

Maud gave a strangled cry, sure that one or both of the twins would be horribly burned; but an instant later the flames died out and Fred reappeared, dazed and beaming. "That was flippin' brilliant," he said. "You all right, George?"

George thumped his chest, wheezed, and gave a watery smile. "Wow," he said hoarsely. "Yeah."

"Why," said Maud, recovering belatedly from her shock, "would Prospero Peachtree have come up with a recipe for breathable fire that doesn't burn?"

"Because," said George, leaning back against the workbench as Fred seized a pad of paper and began eagerly scribbling down notes on their latest experiment, "he was a pyromancer -- or, as Jennet prefers to put it, a pyromaniac. Absolutely potty about fire. Loved setting it, playing with it, making new kinds of it. Set his house alight about three times a week, which is how Jennet's parents got together. Did you know her dad was a Muggle fireman?"

"No, I didn't," said Maud. "Her mother died in the first war against Voldemort, didn't she? Did the Death Eaters kill her father too?"

"Nah. He died a year before that, trying to rescue somebody's cat from a house fire. Jennet doesn't even remember him, she was that young. Anyway, Peachtree was pretty upset when his firstborn daughter skipped off to go live with a Muggle -- they were an old pure-blood family, and a lot of his so-called friends told him he ought to go after Dolly and bring her back by force. He almost did, in fact, but Dumbledore talked him out of it -- told him to keep his mouth shut and his door open or he'd lose his daughter altogether." He grinned. "Good thing old Prospero listened. Not just for me, but for him too, in the end -- he adored Rob and Jennet when they came along, and took the whole family back into his home after their Dad died. He had a bit of a shock when Jennet turned out to be a Squib, and a nastier one when Dolly was killed, but Dumbledore got him through all that, as well."

"You know," said Maud slowly, "that answers a lot of questions I'd had about Peachtree. The loyalty to Dumbledore, the phoenix Patronus -- what else, for a man who loved fire? -- and that wandless Immolation spell."

"Yeah," said George, sobering. "He wrote the theory behind that one down in his diaries too. It was actually a kind of Transfiguration, believe it or not -- but one that couldn't be reversed. Like being an Animagus, but you can only do it once."

Maud nodded thoughtfully. Was that what Dumbledore had done, at the very end? Immolated himself at the same moment Voldemort had spoken his final curse? It would certainly explain why there had been nothing left...

"We'd better get this stuff out of the way before Tony sees it," said Fred, clapping a lid on the cauldron and heaving it off the fire. "We can bottle it later."

"Do you think it might be any use to the Ministry?" asked Maud.

George looked at Fred. "It is pretty spectacular..."

"Might be a good distraction in a fight," said Fred.

"Yeah," concluded George. "We'll add a few bottles to the arsenal. Why not?"

"Just make sure you brief my uncle on how to use it," said Maud. "Then he can tell the others, when it's time."

"Will do." George grabbed a series of bottles and boxes off the shelf seemingly at random, as Fred filled up another cauldron and stoked the fire. "Well, back to the daily grind. Medea's mercy, how many gallons of Energising Extract can one army need?"

One day, Maud thought, when all this was over, she would take the time to tell Fred and especially George just how much she appreciated them both. Over the past three months alone, the Weasley twins' cheerful presence in the lab had sometimes seemed like the only thing keeping her sane. No matter what happened, she could depend on them; and in Snape's continued absence, that support was more precious to her than Fred or George could begin to guess.

Right now, however, there was work to be done, and Tony might return at any moment. Maud turned back to her workbench and resumed snipping herbs into the Soothing Solution she was making. A loose strand of pale hair fell into her eyes; she put down her scissors and pushed her hair back with an irritated gesture. It was longer now than it had ever been, nearly as long as Lucinda's, and she often thought she ought to get it cut for practicality's sake. But every time she did, she remembered Severus's long fingers weaving through her hair, the way he gathered it up in his hands when he kissed her, and it felt like treachery to even consider it.

She tied her hair into a knot behind her head and worked determinedly away in silence for several minutes, only half-listening to the muttered comments and exclamations of Fred and George behind her, before the door opened again and Tony came back in.

"Right, then," he said, clapping his big hands together, "that's it for today. Clear up and clear off."

"What?" asked Fred dubiously. "It's only three o'clock."

"I don't make the orders, Freddy-boy, I just deliver them. Out. Make it quick." Then, as the Weasleys began reluctantly to obey, Tony crooked a finger and beckoned Maud over to his side. In a confidential tone he said, "Maud, love, can I have a word in private? I'm in a bit of a fix, and I could use a spot of womanly advice." He lowered his voice still further, whispered, "It's about Sarah."

Maud was taken aback. "I -- yes, of course. Here, you mean?"

He reddened a little. "In a minute. If you don't mind." He jerked a thumb at Fred and George, whose backs were turned. "But I'll wait till those two are out the door. Wouldn't want to give them something more to laugh at."

"Of course not," said Maud faintly.

"Good girl. Thanks." He patted her shoulder, then turned and left.

Maud closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she looked up again, it was to see Fred and George regarding her with evident concern. "Don't worry," she said, tapping two fingers against her cheek in a gesture she knew George would understand. "I'm fine. Just -- tired."

George nodded, and returned the sign. Two minutes or less. "Take care of yourself, OK, Maud?" he said in a voice loud enough to be overheard. "Get some rest, or something."

"Yeah," said Fred, shouldering his pack and opening the door wide. "We'll see you around."

Maud followed them out into the laboratory's main room, where the warm light of early summer slanted through the windows, making the dust motes dance. Tony sat on a stool in the corner, looking glum; she tried not to pay too much attention to him. "Goodbye," she said to the twins. "Have a good weekend."

Fred and George gave her identical grins, then touched their fingers to their foreheads in mock salute and Disapparated. Maud, left alone with Tony, turned to him with fatal calm and said, "What was that about Sarah?"

Tony sighed and heaved himself off the stool. "She called me up last night. Told me she was sorry, that she wanted to get together and talk." He walked across the floor to her, scratching the back of his head as though he were perplexed. "I didn't know quite what to say, except, maybe -- Imperio."

Maud's mind went blank. She was floating in a sea of dim light; her thoughts, her cares, all drifted away on the tide...

Feels nice, doesn't it? echoed Uncle Alastor's rasping voice in her mind. Very relaxing. But with every moment you give into it, your will gets weaker and your enemy gets stronger...

"Sorry, love," said Tony, with what sounded like genuine regret. "You're going to have to come with me." He held out a hand to her, and she took it automatically. But even as she did so, her uncle's lessons came back to her again -- Vigilance, Maudie! Come on, fight! -- and she found herself planting her feet, bracing for the battle she knew must come.

"Would you look at that," said George's voice conversationally from behind them. "They're holding hands. How sweet."

"Yeah," Fred remarked. "And to think we never knew."

Tony's mouth dropped open. He recovered himself with an effort, tried to sound fierce and authoritative: "What d'you think you're doing? Just Apparating in here like that -- it's dangerous in a hospital! You're supposed to go through the front entrance!"

"Yeah, we know, but we forgot something," said George mildly. "So we came back for it."

"Thought you might have seen it around," Fred added. "It's a small, black thing..." He stooped to look under a bench, then continued on in the same casual tone, "looks kind of like, oh, I dunno, a skull..."

With all her strength Maud wrenched her hand free of Tony's grasp, dove, and rolled beneath the nearest table. She heard Tony's hoarse shout of anger and surprise, saw a flash of blue robes as Fred lunged forward; then the twins' voices rang out almost as one:

Something heavy crashed to the floor. Maud pulled her feet up to look at it and saw Tony's eyes glaring helplessly back at her, his face frozen in an ugly grimace of rage. Her heart was pounding and her throat was dry, but she managed to lift her head and look him straight in the eye as she said, with cold and deliberate precision:

"By the authority of the Ministry and in the memory of Callum and Bridget Gamble, you are under arrest for murder and high treason." She gave him a thin smile, pushing up his sleeve to reveal the shadow of the Dark Mark on his arm. "And all this time you thought I believed Sarah was the Death Eater among us. Sorry about that -- love."

* * *

Euphemia Glossop's conference room had never been so crowded. Fred and George sat on one side of the long table, with Maud protectively sandwiched between them; on the other side was Imogen, uncharacteristically sombre in dark green robes, while a pale and nervous-looking Sarah Proctor took the seat nearest the door. Tony, bound to his chair, sat unwillingly at the far end, against the wall.

"So, Mr. Gamble," said Euphemia Glossop crisply, sitting down at the head of the table and putting her fingertips together, "it would seem you have finally overreached yourself."

"I don't know what you're talking about," insisted Tony, grimacing as he struggled against the powerful Restraining Charm that held him. "You've no right to treat me this way! I'm a loyal Ministry employee!"

"Loyal to the Dark Lord, maybe," muttered Imogen, tapping her wand against her palm as though itching to use it on him. "You're a disgrace to Hufflepuff, Gamble."

He eyed her with resentment. "And who the devil are you?"

"I'm Maud's best friend -- and your worst nightmare," said Imogen, smiling sweetly at him. "I took the statements of the orphans from Thistledown Lane."

Tony's face went blank. Glossop continued with cool deliberation: "Even before your brother's death, Mr. Gamble, your prejudice against his choice of a Muggle wife and career was well known. And the night before the Death Eaters came to Thistledown Lane, a man's voice -- your voice -- was overheard arguing with Callum in his office."

His mouth dropped open. "You're never accusing me of killing my own brother!"

"No," said Glossop. "I will do you that much credit, at least. But you knew that his orphanage would be targeted. And by all accounts, your brotherly concern for Callum consisted of telling him to 'get rid of the Muggle rubbish before it's too late.'" Her eyes hardened. "You must have known that no man of honour -- least of all a selfless and caring man who loved his wife and the children under their care -- could possibly accept such advice."

Tony was silent, but his jaw tightened, and his hands clenched hard on the arms of the chair.

"Still," Glossop went on relentlessly, "your genuine dismay when you learned that Thistledown Lane had been destroyed did one thing for your cover. Maud might have suspected your involvement with the Enemy sooner, had she not been convinced that you had changed your attitude toward Bridget Gamble, and truly learned to care for her as well as Callum, before they died."

"My mistake," said Maud bitterly, and George put a hand on her shoulder as Glossop continued:

"Once Maud discovered that you were sending the Ministry sub-standard Exploding Extract, however, it was easy for her to put the pieces together -- particularly once she had read the transcripts of the orphans' testimony. Not to mention that your clumsy attempts to blame Sarah and the supply nurse at St. Mungo's for your 'mistakes' did your Department training little credit. Indeed, were it not for Peg McGillicuddy's ignorance of the lies you were telling about her -- not to mention the feelings Sarah had for you, which kept her hoping for your repentance and reform -- you would have been caught long ago."

"That's a load of cobblers," snapped Tony. "Don't tell me you believe this lot --" with a contemptuous jerk of his head he indicated Fred, George and Maud -- "after all the things they've done? The boys nearly blew up my lab a hundred times, and she egged them on --"

"I gave you my respect," whispered Maud, hot tears pricking her eyes. "I trusted you. Sarah believed in you. And you betrayed us all."

"Besides, if I'm such a villain," Tony went on rapidly, ignoring her, "what about Sarah, then? She tried to kill me -- cut a great gash in my shoulder -- Maud saw it herself --"

"You made me do it," said Sarah in her thin, wavering voice. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her face was as colourless as the rest of her. "I'd loved you since Hogwarts, and you knew it, and you used me, knowing I'd protect you -- and when I finally couldn't bear it any more and confronted you, you put me under Imperius --" She made a little, choking sound and turned her face away.

"But you underestimated Sarah," said Glossop flatly, her grey eyes boring into Tony's. "Even though you told her she had no hope of proving anything against you, because Maud, the only corroborating witness to your guilt, was your lover and your partner in crime --"

Imogen let out a most uncharacteristic oath, and Maud half-started to her feet. The gall, the nerve, the sheer cruelty of the man -- but once again, the gentle pressure of George's hand steadied her. She sank back down again, to see Sarah looking at her with red-rimmed, martyred eyes. Maud shook her head in a gesture of absolute denial; Sarah returned a slow, sad nod, as if to say: I know that. Now.

"In spite of that, Miss Proctor was wise enough to come to me and tell me all she knew," finished Glossop. "But even had she not done so, our own surveillance records, dating back as far as the previous year when Maud first approached me with her suspicions, were sufficient to confirm your guilt."

"Guess you've got me over a barrel, then," said Tony, with a sneer that didn't quite cover his obvious dismay. "But if you were all so sure I was working for You-Know-Who, why not clap me in irons and pack me off to Azkaban straight away?" When Glossop remained silent, he went on, a rising note of hysterical triumph in his voice. "Got you there, eh? Maybe your case isn't so air-tight as you like to make out."

"You useless git," said George fiercely. "Of course we didn't arrest you. We knew exactly who you were, where you were, what you were up to, and why. So what point would there be in showing our hand, and giving You-Know-Who the chance to come up with Plan B?"

"Precisely," said Glossop, unfazed by the interruption. "As long as the Enemy believes that Tony is still at large, and continuing to provide the Ministry with a weak and ineffective potions arsenal, he will underestimate the strength of our forces. And that gives us a strategic advantage we cannot afford to lose. As will the information you are about to give us, Mr. Gamble."

Tony spat on the table, all traces of affability gone now. "I'm not giving you anything, you Muggle-loving hag!"

Imogen pointed her wand at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Keep a civil tongue in your head, or lose it. The tongue, or the head -- I don't really care which."

"Oh, Merlin," groaned Tony. "Not the old 'good Auror, bad Auror' routine. What kind of a fool do you think I am?"

Glossop gave a swift sidelong glance at Maud, who quietly turned and went to a tall cabinet in the corner. With a tap of her wand she unlocked it, and withdrew a small bottle of clear liquid. She had brewed it herself, drawing on the advanced potions skills that Snape had taught her, skills which Tony in his arrogance had never called upon; now she carried the vial back to the conference table proudly, and set it down with a cold clinking sound just out of Tony's reach.

"You can't do that!" Sweat leaped out on his brow, and his voice was hoarse with desperation. "It's controlled -- strict Ministry guidelines --"

"Ah," said Glossop, "but we are the Ministry." She raised her eyebrows, her gaze sweeping over the small group assembled around the table. "Are there any objections to the use of Veritaserum in this case?"

There was a profound silence.

"I thought not." She gave a nod to the Weasley twins. "If you will?"

"With pleasure," said Fred grimly, cracking his knuckles. He and George stepped forward and seized Tony by the shoulders. He shouted and tried to struggle, but the Restraining Charm held him fast. With the muscular strength of the Beaters they had once been, George forced Tony's head back while Fred pulled open his jaws.

"All right, go," grunted George.

Maud looked back at Sarah and held out the bottle. "You have the right," she said quietly, but the other woman flushed and shook her head. Resigned, Maud leaned across the table and poured two careful drops of the Truth Potion down Tony's shrieking throat.

It was only a few seconds before Tony's struggles subsided, and a slack, dazed expression came over his face. When Fred and George let go of him and stepped back, he slumped in his chair, all resistance gone.

"Now," said Glossop quietly. "You told Maud she would have to come with you. Where were you taking her and why?"

Tony's mouth moved automatically. "My Master summoned me early this morning, and told me to put Maud under Imperius and bring her to him at Hogwarts before nightfall. I don't know why."

"Hogwarts!" said Glossop, clearly surprised. "You mean that the Enemy is at Hogwarts now?"

"Yes."

She exchanged glances with Imogen. "Alone?"

"No. He said that when I came to him, with Maud... we would join his army."

The group around the table looked at each other in dismay. They had all been expecting Voldemort to move on Hogwarts soon, but the Department had received no word that his armies were heading in that direction, much less that they had already arrived.

"They can't have Apparated," George said, frowning. "Not to Hogwarts."

"Yeah," said Fred. "They must have come through Hogsmeade, or from the other side of the forest."

"But if they had," Imogen objected, "they'd have been seen and reported by now. And they haven't been." She looked back at Glossop for confirmation. "Have they?"

Glossop shook her head, then turned back to Tony. "How did the Enemy get his army to Hogwarts?"

"I don't know. All he said was that he had some loyal followers in Hogwarts, and that they would make a way."

Loyal followers, thought Maud, and then it hit her. She could see the words in her mind, written in Severus's slanting, elegant hand:

It looked as though they had succeeded.

Glossop Summoned a quill and parchment with a snap of her fingers and scribbled a hasty note. Sealing it with a touch of her wand, she handed it to Sarah and said, "Take this to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Tell them to mobilise their forces immediately."

"Me?" faltered Sarah. "But I --"

"Don't argue," said Glossop firmly. "Just go. Now!"

Sarah blinked, swallowed, pushed her chair back, and Disapparated. Glossop turned back to the table, her fingers tapping out her impatience. "All right, Mr. Gamble," she said. "Tell me everything you know about the Enemy's plan to attack Hogwarts. Everything."

* * *

"You can't do this!"

George was more upset than Maud had ever seen him before, his face alternating between white and red. "It's insanity -- you're not trained -- you'll get yourself killed!"

"I have to go," said Maud flatly. "It's me Voldemort wants."

"That's exactly why you can't go!" shouted George. "You're playing right into You-Know-Who's hands -- you might as well have just gone off with Tony in the first place!"

Maud turned to Glossop. "Tell him."

"No, tell her!" George insisted. "You can't possibly mean to let her go off to Hogwarts -- it'd be sheer murder. Send an Auror, someone who might actually stand a chance. There's always Polyjuice --"

"You don't understand. I'm the only one who does stand a chance," Maud interrupted before Glossop could speak. "Voldemort already suspects treachery from at least one of his servants, or he wouldn't have sent for me at all. So don't you think he'll want to be absolutely sure that Tony's brought him the real Maud Moody?" She put a hand on his arm, willing him to listen. "Look. He's not going to kill me, at least not right away; I'm no use to him dead. But if we sent an impostor, he would certainly kill her. And then he'd simply send someone else to get the real me, and I'd end up in exactly the same situation -- only the Ministry would have lost all hope of catching Voldemort by surprise, and I'd have the death of an innocent Auror on my conscience."

George pushed his hands through his hair in frustration, then looked at Glossop. "All right, not that way. But -- there's got to be a better alternative."

"Not that I can see," said Glossop quietly. "Until the Ministry forces can get to Hogwarts and implement our strategy, it is vital that the Enemy continue to believe that we are completely unaware of his plans. If Maud -- the real Maud -- does not arrive on schedule, his suspicions will be aroused, and we will lose what little tactical advantage we have gained."

George let out an exasperated breath. "You're barking, both of you. What about Tony, then? You're going to need him to show up at Hogwarts, too -- or is Maud just supposed to go waltzing up to You-Know-Who on her own and say, 'Hullo, sailor'?"

"She won't be on her own," said Imogen. "At least, not if I have anything to say about it. For one thing, she's far too soft-hearted to protect herself properly --" she gave Maud an affectionate grin that did not quite conceal the lines of worry on her face -- "and for another, Alastor'd never forgive me."

"But there's no way you can impersonate Tony," said George, with a grimace of distaste that might have been for the idea, or Imogen's casual use of Mad-Eye Moody's first name, or both. "You're the wrong sex, for one thing; for another, you hardly know him. Granted, once You-Know-Who's got the real Maud he won't have any reason to suspect he hasn't got the real Tony as well -- but there's no sense being blatant about it."

"Well, somebody's got to do it," pointed out Imogen. "Maud putting Tony under Imperius and making him bring her to the Enemy would be a lovely bit of irony, but it's hardly practical, even if she knew how."

"And I don't," said Maud quietly. Defend against it, yes; but perform it -- the very thought made her shudder.

There was an awkward silence. At last George drew a deep breath, and his chin came up. "All right, then. Bring out the Polyjuice. I'll go."

Fred put his head down on the table with an audible thud. "I knew he was going to say that."

"George," said Maud in alarm, "You can't. You've only been married a month -- you didn't even get a decent honeymoon -- if you get yourself killed, what would I say to Jennet?"

"And if I stand by and let you get yourself killed, do you think I could look her in the face?" He shook his head. "Besides, I'm not going to get killed. Like I said before, You-Know-Who's not going to look too closely at me if he knows you're the genuine article, so I'll probably be safer than you are. But Fred and I are the only ones here who know Tony well enough to impersonate him, and I'm the only one who knows you well enough to make the right moves at the right time." He pushed back his chair and folded his arms determinedly. "So it's got to be me."

Much as it distressed Maud to admit it, he had a point. George alone understood the nature of her relationship with Severus, and had reason to believe in Snape's integrity. He also knew Maud far better than Fred did, and his ability to read her subtle cues might well make the difference between life and death for both of them. She bowed her head in resignation, and made no further protest.

"Fine," said Imogen, rubbing her hands together. "Maud goes as herself, you go as Tony, and I go with both of you, wearing Alastor's Invisibility Cloak. That way, at least one of us can take the Enemy by surprise and pull Maud out if anything goes wrong." She turned to Glossop expectantly. "Any objections, O Wise One?"

"No, my dear," said Glossop, with more gentleness than was her wont. "I myself see no reasonable alternative. But --" her voice sharpened again, and her severe glance swept over the three of them -- "I must insist that all of you exercise extreme caution, and take no foolish risks. Do not attempt to engage the Enemy directly, do you understand? You will assuredly lose. Your presence at Hogwarts is meant to be a delaying tactic, nothing more. Fulfil that role, and you will have more than done your duty."

"Hurrah for them," said Fred glumly, plucking hairs out of Tony's lolling head like petals from a daisy. "But what about me?"

"I have work for you here, Mr. Weasley," said Glossop, with a thin smile. "Rest assured, you will not be idle."

Maud walked to Glossop's open cabinet, ran her fingers along the rack, and pulled out a flask of Polyjuice potion, which she handed wordlessly to George. Then she conjured up a glass vial, took the hairs Fred held out to her and dropped them in.

"That's it, then," said George resolutely. "I'll pop by the lab to pick up some potions for 'Tony's' arsenal, Imogen can get Moody's cloak, and we'll be off. Fred, mate --"

"Yeah, I know." He sounded resigned. "Tell Jennet you'll be late for dinner."

George gave him the ghost of a smile. "That, too."

Maud could bear it no longer. Who was she to have such friends, people who would risk their very lives for her? She wanted to cry out to them, to protest that she wasn't worth it: but she knew it would be no use. Her voice cracked as she said, "If we're going to go, let's go. Please."

Imogen's hand came down gently on her shoulder. "It's going to be all right, Maud. We'll look after you."

She nodded, no longer trusting herself to speak. But who will look after Severus? she thought desperately. Who will save him?

And for once, she had no answer.