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Darkness and Light 2: Personal Risks by RJ_Anderson [Reviews - 1]

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Darkness and Light 2: Personal Risks
by R. J. Anderson

Chapter Six: To Prevent That Murmur

As Dumbledore regarded her soberly, Maud felt herself going hot and cold and white and pink all at once. He must have heard her answer to Snape: her only hope was that he had also heard the question. Otherwise, it would look as though she had burst in here in the middle of the night to swear her undying love -- a thought more humiliating than anything Muriel could possibly come up with.

"I--" she started to say, but Snape was quicker.

"Headmaster," he said, "I take full responsibility for the... irregularity of this situation. Miss Moody saved my life tonight, and her presence here has been solely in a medical capacity, I assure you."

He sounded, thought Maud with surprise, almost anxious. She glanced back at Snape, and saw the strain on his face; his eyes were uncharacteristically imploring.

"I believe you, Severus," said Dumbledore gently. "However, now that I am here, I think it would be best if Miss Moody were to--"

"Don't make me leave."

The words were out of her mouth before she could take them back, and she flushed again as both men looked at her. "It's just," she said, "I can't-- I have to know--"

Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder. "I was about to say, it might be best if you would step aside and allow me to see what I can do for Severus. He will have to teach in a few hours, after all, and it would be unfortunate if anyone were to notice his injuries."

"Oh," she said weakly. "Yes, of course."

Dumbledore came forward, drawing a crystalline phial from his sleeve. Carefully, even tenderly, he turned Snape's head to the side so that the gash above his temple was exposed, and let a single drop fall from the bottle onto the ugly wound. "Is there anything else?" he asked.

"Broken ribs," said Snape. "The rest are mere bruises and scratches -- my robes will hide them."

The Headmaster nodded. "Very well. Open your mouth, Severus," and when Snape obeyed he tipped another of the pearly drops onto his tongue. Snape swallowed, and some colour came back into his face.

"Now," said Dumbledore, "I suggest that you get some sleep. Miss Moody and I have some matters to discuss."

"Headmaster," said Snape. "Was there-- anything for me?"

Dumbledore's eyes creased faintly in a smile. "I believe I have what you are looking for, yes. But it will wait until you are in a position to appreciate it. Now sleep," and he laid a hand on Snape's forehead. When he took it away a moment later, Snape's eyes were closed.

"Well, Miss Moody," said Dumbledore in a brisker tone, taking her arm and leading her to a seat in the corner, "you have had quite an evening, as I understand. But first..." He drew a small round object out of his sleeve and laid it in her palm.

Maud knew without looking what he had given her. She closed her fingers around Athena's body, caressing the stony feathers, before slipping the little owl into the pocket of her robes. "Sir," she said. "Where were you?"

"I received an urgent summons from a friend," said Dumbledore. "I apologise that I was not there when you came to my office, but not even I can be in two places at once... and I had reason to believe that Severus would be in good hands."

"Is my uncle all right?"

Dumbledore's brows shot up: he gave her a piercing glance through his spectacles. "I see," he said. "Well, then, since you appear to know nearly as much about the situation as I do, the answer is yes. He was a little overexcited, and had a fine assortment of bumps and bruises, but otherwise he did not seem to have come to any harm."

Maud closed her eyes in relief.

"We had quite a talk, Alastor and I," mused Dumbledore. "As did he and Severus, I understand, before Albert interrupted them."

"Albert?"

"Albert Parnaby." Dumbledore sighed. "Another promising young life wasted in the service of the wrong master." His eyes flicked over to Snape's silent, motionless figure. "Albert was a student here only a few years ago: I knew him well. His father owns a shop in Knockturn Alley, but Severus and I believed there might yet be hope..."

Until now, Maud had envisioned Parnaby as a middle-aged man, hardened by years of service to Voldemort. The realisation that he had been only a little older than herself, and that Snape had taught him just as he had taught her, made her stomach lurch. How must Snape have felt, having to kill him?

"It is fortunate that you were with Severus tonight," said Dumbledore quietly, as though he had read her thoughts. "Even had he not been injured, it would not have been good for him to be alone. Miss Moody--"

She looked up.

"I will not pretend that I did not overhear your words as I came in. But neither will I condemn you for them. In fact I agree with you: Severus does need to be loved. And if you truly have chosen to love him in spite of his faults, you can give him no greater gift."

Maud gave him a wan smile to show she appreciated the encouragement; but inside she was thinking: Here it comes.

"And..." said Dumbledore thoughtfully.

She stiffened, preparing herself for the worst.

"...I have reason to believe that he knows it. Be patient with him, Maud. He has been alone a long time, and trust does not come to him easily."

All right, thought Maud, now it comes.

But it didn't. Dumbledore folded his hands together and sat twiddling his thumbs, humming a faint, melancholy tune. It was evident that he had finished what he had come to say -- but that seemed impossible. Where was the lecture on responsibility, the warning about the importance of a good reputation, the stern reminder of Hogwarts rules? Obscurely, Maud felt cheated.

"Sir," she said at last, "aren't I in trouble?"

"Do you think you ought to be, Miss Moody?"

"Well... yes."

He smiled gently. "As it happens, I noticed on my return that Severus had committed the unprecedented act of taking points from his own house. For the crime of venturing into the forest after hours -- a violation which seems to be committed with depressing regularity of late -- I believe fifty points will be more than sufficient. Of course, there is the matter of..."

Maud held her breath.

"...your rescue of Severus. That was an act of courage, loyalty and self-sacrifice such as I have rarely seen in a member of Slytherin House, and were it not necessary to keep the details of your heroism -- and the need for it -- a secret, I would gladly award points to your credit. But as it stands..."

He spoke, thought Maud, as though he had witnessed the events of that night firsthand, or at least knew the whole story. But if he had known Snape needed rescuing, then why hadn't he done it himself? Or at least helped somehow?

Because, echoed her uncle's voice in her mind, I knew I might not always be there for you...

Her mind recoiled from the thought. She pushed it away and forced herself back to attention just in time to hear Dumbledore say, "Alas, I fear you are about to become even less popular among your fellow Slytherins than you already are."

"I don't think that's possible," said Maud.

"Oh, but it is. After this night they will no longer be able to pity you as they did before, nor will they find it quite so convenient to ignore you. You see -- and I trust you will forgive that inadvertent bit of wordplay -- you are no longer blind."

She looked over at him sharply; his smile broadened. "My dear young woman," he said, "even if you had not left Athena on my doorstep, I could hardly have failed to notice. I had been wondering what it might take to convince your mind to accept what your heart already knew: now, it would seem, we have found out."

"I... I'm still not sure I understand."

"Oh, I think you do, Miss Moody -- or at least, you suspect. There are at least two reasonable explanations for why your blindness continued even after you and Severus perfected your nerve-regenerating potion." He ticked them off on his fingers. "One was that Athena had been a part of you so long, it was impossible for you to imagine seeing without her. As long as she lived, your mind would not accept sight from any other source."

She nodded: it made sense.

"And the other..." He let his voice trail off, inviting her to continue.

"My uncle thought he knew." She spoke softly, so that even if Snape were awake, he would not hear. "He believed that it was because of the bond that formed between us -- Professor Snape and me -- when he saved my life. That I had surrendered my will to him that night, and even now, part of me was still obeying him instinctively. So I would never regain my sight as long as I was with him, because if I could see, I -- I could become an Auror. And then I would have to leave him."

Dumbledore regarded her seriously down his long, crooked nose. "Do you believe that?"

"For a while... I feared it might be true."

"And now?"

Her mouth bent in a rueful smile; slowly, she shook her head. "Even if Professor Snape had managed to inadvertently Charm me when I was a child, the effects wouldn't have lasted fourteen hours, let alone fourteen years. And although owing him my life did give me a certain... desire... to show my gratitude somehow, to try and repay the debt... it didn't change who I am. The choices I've made are mine. Not his." She lifted her chin, gazed steadfastly past Dumbledore to the bed where Snape lay, his face oddly vulnerable in sleep and his black hair tumbled across the pillow. "I know that now."

"Good," said Dumbledore with satisfaction.

"Besides," added Maud without shifting her gaze, "if Professor Snape wants to control me, he's not doing a very good job of it. After tonight, he's as much in my debt as I ever was in his... and I can see again."

The Headmaster patted her arm and rose with an effort to his feet. "You have always seen more clearly than you knew, Miss Moody, especially where Severus is concerned. And since at times you also possess a singular ability to see through him, you may yet be able to teach him one thing that I never could."

She looked up at him questioningly.

"To laugh at himself." Dumbledore reached into his sleeve again, drew out a tight roll of parchment. "Will you give this to Severus for me? My eyelids await their nightly inspection. As do yours, I am quite sure: so I would encourage you to take whatever rest you can before sunrise."

Maud was nonplussed. "Sir-- you're allowing me to stay here?"

"I am. Provided you show good judgement in knowing when to leave, as I expect you will, you will find that you are able to return to your dormitory unobserved." He paused, then added with raised brows and a significant glitter in his eye, "However, if you insist on accompanying Severus to breakfast, I will not be answerable for the consequences."

The idea of herself sweeping into the Great Hall on Snape's arm, to the disbelieving stares of her fellow students, was so preposterous that Maud choked back a laugh. "I'll keep that in mind," she said. "Thank you, Headmaster."

"Miss Moody," he acknowledged gravely, tipped his hat to her, and left.

Maud waited until the door had closed, then looked down at the parchment in her hands. What could it possibly be? For one mad moment she struggled with the impulse to open it: but her better judgement prevailed, and she set the roll aside. Then, quietly, she pulled her chair up to the end of the bed, put her head down on the blankets, and fell into an instant, dreamless sleep.

* * *

"Maud."

She woke at the sound of Snape's voice, sat upright with an effort. For a moment she looked stupidly at the empty bed, wondering where he had gone: then she turned her head, and saw him standing beside her.

He was fully dressed, in black robes identical to the ones he had ruined the night before, and the eyes that met hers were clear, glittering in the first faint light of dawn. He extended a hand to her, and as she took it and let him draw her to her feet she saw that he moved easily, as though he had never been injured at all.

"Good--" she started to say, and that was as far as she got before he took her face between his hands and covered her mouth with his.

As a first kiss it was impressive, and Maud was breathless by the time it ended. Through the haze, wondering if she was actually awake yet or whether this was just a vivid and potentially embarrassing dream, she heard herself say thickly, "You can't do that."

Snape folded his arms around her. "Oh?" he said.

"No, you can't," she insisted, muffled against his robes. "The rules--"

"Maud," said Snape, "do you have any idea what the rules actually say?"

"No," she said again, pushing against his chest in an effort to free herself from his embrace. "But I am quite sure they don't say that you can do what you just did."

"True," agreed Snape, letting her go and watching her flushed face with proprietary amusement. "But they don't forbid it, either."

"That's impossible." She stared at him. "Professor Dumbledore made a joke about it once, I remember. 'Hand-holding between teachers and students is expressly against school rules.' And if--"

"Ah, but he did not say which school. And having consulted the existing Hogwarts regulations myself -- up to and including the ones Umbridge introduced this year -- I can assure you that fraternisation is only regarded as a punishable offence when the student is not yet of age, or where there is evidence of coersion. However--" He reached out, smoothing a wayward strand back from her face -- "I know as well as you do that opportunity is not the same as approval."

"Exactly." Cheeks burning, she batted his hand away, embarrassed by the realisation that for once his hair must look better than hers did.

"So I discussed the matter with the Headmaster. Who, in his usual circumspect manner, advised me to consult a higher authority."

She stared at him. "The board of governors?"

"No," said Snape with something like his old acidity. "Your uncle."

For a moment Maud gazed at him in disbelief: then her knees buckled, and Snape had to catch her by the elbows. "My uncle..." she whispered. "That was why you went to see him? You actually took your life into your hands to ask--"

"--for his consent, yes. It seemed the only thing to do under the circumstances. And besides, if I hadn't, he really would have killed me."

"Then that note--"

"--was from him. Indeed. Although there was a letter with it as well, addressed to you: would you like to read it?"

"I think I had better sit down," said Maud faintly.


Dear Maudie,

I'm writing these lines under Dumbledore's watchful nose, and I'll have to be quick, as he's anxious to get back to Hogwarts.

Your Professor Snape is a cheeky beggar, and altogether too sure of himself if you ask me. But Merlin's beard, he's got guts. And since he not only saved my life tonight, but took a--
(here several words were scratched out) nasty beating doing it, I'll admit I might have misjudged him.

Still, even that wouldn't have been enough for me, if not for the Parnaby lad. Snape had to kill him, or else he'd have done for the whole lot of us and a good chunk of the countryside as well. But he made it quick -- with more mercy than the boy deserved, in fact -- and I could see he didn't enjoy it.

Snape seemed to know Parnaby well -- probably taught him at Hogwarts. I noticed, too, that P. was a bit like the Potter boy in looks. Anyway, when it was all over, Snape looked even sicker than usual. You'll want to keep an eye on him for the next few days, Maudie.

I'll wager you never thought you'd see the day -- me, telling you to look after Snape? Well, I may be a tough old
(word crossed out) badger, but I hope I can still admit when I've been wrong. I've mulled a good deal over what you said when you were here, and I think I'm starting to see the sense of it. I knew you had a sensible head on your shoulders, and you've always been older than your years; but even so I could never figure what could make you want to take up with a fellow like Snape. Now, though, I've seen a bit of his true colours for myself. And he must think a lot of you, Maudie, or he wouldn't have risked his skin coming to see me.

I don't know what you'll make of all this. You did say you weren't in love with Snape, after all, and at the time you seemed to believe it. So you might not thank either one of us. But after what happened tonight, I've decided to give the man a chance.

Your loving uncle,
Alastor Moody

P.S. I'm not in love with Snape either, so make sure you send him packing if you don't want him. You always did have too much of a soft heart.



Behind this letter was another page, also written in her uncle's scrawling hand:


I, Alastor Moody, hereby consent to allow Professor Severus Snape to pay his addresses to my niece and ward, Maud Margaret Moody, if for some reason she decides to let him. And if she does, he'd best keep his oath to behave himself like a gentleman. Otherwise, I hereby swear to hunt him down and curse his (large black scribble) legs off. And that'll just be for starters.

Signed this 24th day of January, 1996,
Alastor Moody



Maud read both pages twice, to be sure she wasn't imagining things. At last, slowly, she lowered them to her lap and looked up at Snape.

"You," she said, "are insane."

"If you think that's alarming," said Snape, "you should have heard the oath." He reached down and took the papers from her hands. "These will remain a secret between us and the Headmaster. I did not obtain your uncle's consent for the benefit of some board of governors, and I certainly did not do so for the Dark Lord."

Privately, Maud agreed: Voldemort was unlikely to appreciate anything that smacked of a truce between one of his Death Eaters and the notorious Mad-Eye Moody. Now, as before, their best hope was to keep their distance, and pretend that the animosity between Maud and her uncle -- and between her uncle and Snape -- was genuine.

"Of course," said Snape in an expressionless voice, still looking at the letters, "you do have your sight back."

"Yes," she said.

"And therefore you also have... options... that were not available to you before."

"Such as?" She knew, but she wanted to hear him say it.

"Becoming an Auror." He paused. "That is, after all, what you have always wanted. Isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Well, then..." He strode to the fireplace, held the papers above the glowing coals.

"You know better than that," said Maud softly.

He looked back at her, and the lines of his face eased as he lowered his arm. "I wanted you to know," he said, "that you have a choice."

"I've made my choice," she said. "I don't regret it."

Snape stood motionless, his tall, lean figure limned by the sunlight in luminous gold. For a moment, in spite of the harsh features and the sallow skin and the hair lying lank over his shoulders, he was beautiful.

"Neither do I," he said. And then he opened his arms to her, and she walked into them.

For a long moment they held each other, her hands caressing the muscles of his back, his face buried in her hair. Maud closed her eyes, a bittersweet ache in her heart as she realised how much they had both gained this night, and how much more than Athena's life -- much as that grief still pained her -- could have been lost.

Of course, they still had a lot to lose, especially now, if they did not maintain their vigilance. She had no fear that Snape would betray his true feelings by favouring her too much: he was more likely to err on the side of strictness. Anyway, he had lived a charade for so many years already that adding one more element to his subterfuge would hardly matter. Maud was more concerned about maintaining her own discretion, especially after what had happened with Muriel: she must be better prepared in future, and not allow herself to be caught out like that again.

And speaking of being caught...

"I have to go," she murmured reluctantly against Snape's heartbeat. "Dumbledore promised me safe passage back to the dormitory, but not if I wait much longer."

She felt him nod. He pulled back a little, kissed her forehead, her cheek, and last of all, lingeringly, her mouth. Then he let her go, and she picked up her cloak and left the room without another word.

* * *

"Muriel! Wake up! Wake up!"

The voice was Annie Barfoot's. Maud opened her bleary eyes and pulled the covers off her head just in time to see the curly-haired girl grab Muriel with both hands and shake her -- a liberty Annie would never have dared to take under normal circumstances.

"Wha'?" mumbled Muriel, making a futile effort to push Annie away. "Geroff."

"Lucinda and I just went down to the Great Hall." Annie sounded hysterical. "And Slytherin's lost fifty points!"

Maud sat up slowly, swung her legs around, and began quietly to dress herself. She pulled her black school robes over her head, then picked up a brush and smoothed her pale, silky hair with a few quick strokes. It was strange to look at her face head-on in the mirror, and not see Athena on her shoulder as well...

"YOU!" snarled Muriel's voice from behind her.

Maud whipped around and knocked Muriel's hand away from her arm. "Don't touch me," she said, making each word icily clear.

Muriel's eyes locked on Maud's -- and the colour drained from her face. She took a step back, her expression wary, almost fearful.

"That's right," said Maud levelly. "I can see. So tell me, Muriel... why should I care how many emeralds are in the Slytherin hourglass this morning?"

"Oh," squeaked Annie. "Oh, oh, oh!"

"Shut up!" Muriel barked, rounding on her. "Or get out!"

Annie clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes round as an owl's, and sat down abruptly on the end of the bed. Muriel glared at her a few seconds longer before turning back to Maud and meeting her gaze again, this time with a show of defiance.

"Fine," she said. "Maybe you don't care. But the rest of us do... and I promise you, Moody-girl, we'll make you sorry."

Maud smiled. "You can try," she said. "But I suggest you ask yourself something, Muriel: why might I want to leave Hogwarts at night, alone? And what kind of power does it take to make a blind girl see again?"

Annie turned a delicate shade of green, leaped up and ran from the room.

Muriel, on the other hand, seemed almost impressed. "Well, well," she said. "So what are you trying to tell me? That you have friends in low places?"

"Higher than you'll ever get."

"Powerful friends?"

"You tell me," said Maud.

Muriel's eyes were narrowed, appraising. "I see," she said at last, though Maud could tell she didn't. But lack of information had never stopped her talking, and by the end of the day the school would be buzzing with some rumour or another about how Maud had got back her sight. Probably several different and contradictory rumours, in fact.

"So," Muriel said. "Who caught you sneaking back into the school? McGonagall? Umbridge?"

Maud was silent.

"Well, sight or no sight, Moody, I certainly wouldn't want to be you for the next few days." She reached out as though to give Maud a shove, but Maud stepped back, holding up her brush warningly.

"I'll only tell you one more time, Muriel. Don't touch me again. Ever."

Muriel glared at her, and opened her mouth to retort, but then Annie's tremulous voice came from the doorway: "Muriel -- in the common room -- he wants you."

"Who?" demanded Muriel, still not taking her eyes off Maud.

Annie gulped. "Professor Snape."

The sound of Snape's name was hardly melodic, but it still managed to do unexpected things to the base of Maud's spine. She might not have considered herself in love with him a week ago, or even yesterday; but heaven help her, she certainly was now. Strange, she thought, how a choice made with the mind could so quickly take possession of the heart as well...

"You'd better get dressed," she said to Muriel, with more calmness than she felt.

Furiously Muriel turned, stalked over to her trunk, and began flinging robes about. Maud sat down on the end of her bed and continued brushing her hair until the slamming of the trunk lid told her the other girl had finished: then she got up and followed Muriel out the door.

Snape was standing by the fireplace, tapping one long finger against his folded arm. His gaze flickered to Maud as they entered, and for an instant their eyes locked: but his face remained expressionless, and in another moment his attention had shifted to Muriel. "Miss Groggins," he said crisply. "Come with me."

Shoulders hunched, as though she already knew and resented what lay ahead, Muriel followed him out of the common room. Maud watched until the door had shut behind them. Then she turned to Annie, standing uncertainly by her elbow, and said, "Quick, Annie. What exactly did he say when he came in?"

The brown-haired girl shook her head. "Something about a meeting, and Muriel's presence being required... I can't remember." She darted a nervous glance at Maud, then bit her lip and dropped her eyes again. "Do you think she's in trouble?"

"Yes," said Maud slowly. "Actually, yes, I do."

"Then..." Annie blinked. "Maybe it wasn't you. Maybe it's her. The points, I mean. Do you think? I mean, did McGonagall -- it was her who caught you, wasn't it? -- say she was taking fifty points?"

"No," Maud told her, with perfect honesty. "Professor McGonagall didn't say anything like that."

* * *

Muriel didn't show up in the Great Hall until breakfast was nearly over. She shoved her way onto the bench beside Lucinda, her eyes red-rimmed, and choked down a bowl of porridge without speaking or looking at anyone. She didn't merely look guilty, thought Maud: she looked condemned. And when Sprout, Flitwick, McGonagall and Snape entered the Hall together a few minutes later, followed by a disgruntled-looking Umbridge, the glances of puzzlement and surprise being exchanged up and down the Slytherin table turned to looks of comprehension -- and anger.

"I knew she'd get in trouble one of these days!" hissed Lucinda as soon as Muriel had gone. "I told her she'd gone too far!"

Annie nodded solemnly. "There are things you just don't say."

This was a staggering bit of hypocrisy, considering that Lucinda and Annie were not only inveterate gossips themselves, but Muriel's own chief tale-bearers. Maud suppressed the urge to box both their ears, reached for another piece of toast, and said, "Like what?"

"Well--" Annie blushed. "Come on, Maud, you must know."

"Oh. That." Maud did not trouble to hide her amusement -- though the reasons for it were different than any Lucinda or Annie could hope to guess. "Does anyone take that seriously?"

Lucinda looked up at her, shame and fear mingling in her watery green eyes. "Not-- not any more," she said. "Now that we know what you were really doing."

Maud had no idea what they "knew", but she nodded as though she did.

"Anyway, I overheard some of the Gryffindors talking a few minutes ago," added Annie, "and they said that when McGonagall found out some of the things Muriel had been saying, she was furious."

"Maybe McGonagall has a thing for Snape," said Lucinda, and giggled.

Annie frowned. "This is serious, Lucinda. I heard Muriel might be expelled."

Maud doubted that Annie had heard anything of the kind: even if it were true, the news couldn't possibly have travelled that fast. But Lucinda seemed to accept it as a fact, and no doubt before long the rest of the Slytherins would as well.

"Hey, Moody."

The voice came from behind her, an insolent drawl that Maud knew all too well. She turned in her seat to see Draco Malfoy standing there, arms folded, smirking down at her. "So you've got your sight back," he said. "A good many people would like to know how you managed that one."

Maud gave him a tight smile. "Why don't you ask Annie and Lucinda?" she said, standing up and offering him her place on the bench. "They'll tell you the story much better than I ever could."

* * *

All that day Maud braced herself for accusations and recriminations, sure that someone would find out that she and not Muriel had been the cause of the dreaded fifty-point loss. But nobody did. And by the time the final class was dismissed, Maud had heard enough hair-raising accounts of Muriel's sins to eclipse even the worst rumours about her own -- which was saying a good deal, because some of the theories about how Maud had recovered her sight were really quite alarming. Many of them involved Dark magic, Dark creatures, dubious midnight rituals in the forbidden forest, or some combination of the three. One even went so far as to suggest that she had killed a unicorn.

But those were the Slytherin rumours. The other seventh-year students -- especially the Gryffindors -- seemed to have a different view of the matter. As they saw it, Maud had been working with Snape on a potion to restore her vision, and last night she had finally discovered the missing ingredient that would make it succeed. In her excitement she had dashed out to meet Snape, just returning from his business outside Hogwarts, and they had headed back to the dungeons and brewed up the potion together.

It was all very straightforward, really. Of course, leaving the school after hours should have earned Maud at least a reprimand: but everybody knew that Snape favoured the Slytherins, and would do almost anything to keep his House from losing points. Why, he'd even ignored Muriel's slanders until the other Heads had finally got together and forced him to deal with her. After all, not just Snape's reputation as a teacher, but the reputation of Hogwarts itself, was at stake...

"I don't know how you did it," said Maud softly to George's bent head, "or even why. But thank you."

They were sitting on the floor of the travelling closet, a pile of scribbled notes between them, while Maud racked her brains for cheap ingredients and fresh ideas that might make Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes even more of a success. She was doing the best she could -- she owed George too much to do less -- but it was harder than she'd imagined possible to keep her mind on the task at hand. So much had happened in the past twenty-four hours...

"Well," said George, still scratching away with his quill, "you've got your sight back, you deserved a chance to celebrate. Anyway, Muriel had it coming to her. Taste of her own medicine and all that. Besides, how far off was I? You did get your sight back... and you did go to meet Snape."

There was a moment of awful silence. George looked up slowly, met Maud's eyes... and grinned. "Don't look so shocked," he said. "I still had Harry's map, remember? After you went tearing out of the Owlery, I went back to the dormitory and checked to see where you were headed. I'd have gone after you if I hadn't seen Snape at the edge of the map... but since you seemed to have some sort of appointment with him, and you'd been acting like it was top-secret business, I figured I'd better not interfere."

Some sort of appointment... Well, that was one way of putting it. "What else did you see?" she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

"I followed you until you met up with Snape. Then not much seemed to be happening, so..." He shrugged. "I gave up and went to bed. I figured you had to be all right: you were with Snape, after all. He may be a miserable vicious sod and for all I know he's double-crossing Dumbledore to work for You-Know-Who, but even he wouldn't be stupid enough to hurt a student right here at Hogwarts. Especially not Mad-Eye Moody's niece."

Relief washed over Maud, and her muscles relaxed. "You seem to have it all worked out," she said.

"Well, I had enough time to think about it. Especially after you went haring off last night and left me standing there with your new seeing-eye owl." He gave her a shrewd look. "So... how did you get your sight back, anyway?"

"Just like your rumour said... Professor Snape and I made a potion."

"But it took a while for it to work?"

She nodded.

"Cool," said George. "Did you write down the recipe? Because I bet it'd sell like mad."

Maud smiled.

"By the way..." George put down the quill, pushed the papers aside and sat up, his eyes serious now. "Did you ever find Dumbledore? You seemed pretty upset that he wasn't there last night."

"I..." She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I didn't want to do anything without consulting him. It was a difficult situation, and I thought I would need his help."

"Well, you seem to have managed all right."

"Yes." Her eyes met his steadily. "Thanks to you."

George continued to regard her gravely for a moment: then he leaned forward, closed his eyes, and puckered up his lips in such an absurdly exaggerated way that Maud burst out laughing.

"Is that," she said, "your idea of a just reward?"

George grinned and sat back again. "Nah, just couldn't stand the melodrama."

Maud grabbed her school bag and threw it at his head; he dodged it and fell over backwards, chortling. "You are incorrigible," she accused, unable to keep the smile from her face. It was a relief to know that whatever else he might have thought of her behaviour last night, she hadn't hurt his feelings.

"Yep," said George cheerfully, and tossed the bag back at her. "Now you'd better get going, Miss Moody. Somebody's going to wonder where you are."

"Good point." Wincing a little at the stiffness in her muscles, Maud got to her feet. "Which reminds me -- where's Fred?"

"Dunno. Haven't seen him since last class."

"He didn't know we were meeting here?" Maud was surprised: the Weasley twins were usually inseparable.

"Nope."

A peculiar suspicion began to grow in her mind. "George -- how much does Fred know?"

"Er..." George paused, frowned, and looked up at the ceiling, as though compiling some mental list. "Actually... not a thing."

Maud's mouth dropped open. "He doesn't even know... about this? That we made a deal... that I'm helping you?"

"Nope." He gave her a wicked grin. "Just imagine how clever I'm going to look."

"But you'd made a bet about -- you had a bet on. You mean... you didn't tell him what I told you? You didn't collect?"

"Nope."

"And last night... wasn't he with you when you looked at the map?"

"Nope."

"But..." She looked at him helplessly. "I thought you did everything together."

"Not half!" he said, sounding indignant. Then he relented and said, "Well, all right, a bit more than half. But not everything. I don't make Fred tell me everything he gets up to when I'm not around, do I? Everyone's entitled to a bit of privacy."

She was still surprised, but she wasn't about to argue. "All right," she said, and turned to go.

"Besides," muttered George under his breath, "if I told him, I'd have to pay him ten Galleons, wouldn't I?"

Maud froze.

To be concluded...

Darkness and Light 2: Personal Risks by RJ_Anderson [Reviews - 1]

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