To Dare

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's been reading, even if you haven't left a review. pyrostarglow, the short answer to one of your questions is that Hogwarts is currently between Potions professors. The rest I think will be revealed as the story unfolds. Thanks also to pwlib for reviewing.

To Dare

Chapter Four


Fred and George found it was almost like being back in school as Thalassa explained business theory and concepts of which most of the wizarding world was ignorant. When she reached the end of her ‘lecture’, she sat back.

“So, is that about as clear as Polyjuice Potion?” she smiled.

“No, I think we’ve got it now.” Fred got up to change the CD. “It’s just a lot of little details to remember.”

“Try thinking of it as a really involved, ongoing prank.” She stood, gathering the empty butterbeer bottles. “More?” she asked George.

“Sure,” he nodded.

Music flowed out of the speakers then, a lilting Irish tune, the lyrics in Gaelic. The bottles suddenly slipped out of Thalassa’s nerveless fingers and crashed to the floor.

“What is it?” Fred asked, alarmed at the sight of her pale face.

“This CD. Ian gave it to me.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll change it.”

“No, let it play.” She sank back down on to the couch.

George took out his wand and pointed it at the broken bottles. “Reparo,” he said quietly and the shards fused back together. He picked up the restored bottles and carried them into the kitchen. When he came back, he sat next to Thalassa on the couch and took her hand in his.


“He was more than just your upstairs neighbour, wasn’t he?”

She started in surprise. “Yes, we were friends. We both had uncertain relationships with our families. He liked Muggle music too, though he preferred folk and blues, and the old Scottish and Irish tunes. He used to say music was Muggle magic, and a damn sight more potent than anything we could do with our wands and potions.” She sat there a moment more, listening to the song. Then she sighed deeply. “Forward it to the last track, would you, Fred?”

While he did as she asked, she went to the kitchen and came back with four glasses and a bottle of firewhiskey. She poured a shot in each glass and handed one to each of them. On the CD player, the singer’s rich baritone wove the magic:

“Of all the money e’er I’ve spent,
I spent it in good company
And of all the harm that e’er I’ve done,
Alas, ‘twas done to none but me
And all I’ve done for want of wit
To mem’ry now I can’t recall.
So, fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all.

Of all the comrades e’er I had,
They’re sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts e’er I had
They’d wish me one more day to stay,
But since it falls unto my lot,
That I should go and you should not,
I gently rise and I softly call:
Goodnight and joy be with you all.”


Thalassa raised her glass in a silent toast and then drained the contents in a single gulp. Fred and George followed suit. They set their empty glasses down and Thalassa passed her hand over the fourth glass. She murmured a short spell and the whiskey glowed blue for a moment before vanishing. She closed her eyes. “Go n-eírí an bóthar leat, Ian,” she whispered, tears slipping down her face.

“Shh.” George reached out and gently brushed her tears away.

“Oh!” Her eyes flew open as she jerked away. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “You didn’t come here to have me cry all over you.” She sniffed and scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“We don’t mind,” Fred tried to reassure her. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not.” She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Did you have any more questions about my ideas?”

“No, you actually explained everything quite well. You’re an excellent teacher,” he complimented.

“Oh,” she said, nonplussed. “I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?”

“Tired of us already? I think she’s trying to get rid of us, George.”

“No, I—it’s nice having the two of you about.” She paused and took a deep breath. She really didn’t want to be alone right now. “If you’re sure you don’t have anywhere else to be, would you like to watch a movie? I’m afraid all the films I have on disc have something to do with Muggles’ idea of magic. You’re likely to find them hysterically funny.”

“And this would be a problem, why, exactly?” George grinned.

Thalassa smiled a little as she went to sort through her collection of DVDs. Unfortunately, most of her movies had more violence in them than she cared to watch at the moment. She finally settled on an animated film about the last remaining unicorn. She set her machines to play and put the movie in. When she turned back, George had cleared away the empty glasses and bottle of firewhiskey and was returning from the kitchen. Fred was seated at one end of the couch. He gave her a smile and patted the cushion next to him.

“In a moment,” she said. “I’m going to get a pillow. George, would you turn off the lights?”

She came back with a pillow for each of them and started the movie. She took the seat next to Fred and he rested his arm along the back of the couch behind her. George started to sit in the chair, but she stopped him. “I don’t bite, you know,” she chuckled. “Come on, there’s room here for three.”

He seated himself on her other side and she gave him a warm smile. Not long into the movie, she saw him out of the corner of her eye, trying to stifle a yawn. Fred snapped a finger against his ear, making George flinch.

“Bored?” she teased.

“No, it’s been a long day. I’m a little tired.”

“You shouldn’t have let me talk you into staying, then. Here.” She pulled his pillow into her lap. “Lay down. I promise not to let Fred pick on you if you fall asleep.”

He accepted her invitation, curling up with his head in her lap. A lock of hair fell across his forehead and she smoothed it back. She soon got caught up in the storyline of the movie and didn’t realize that she continued to run her fingers idly through his hair. Soothed by her gentle caresses, George quickly fell asleep.

Thalassa herself nodded off before the movie was half over. Fred quit pretending to pay attention to the plot and watched her in the flickering light from the telly. She looked so fragile in sleep, without the force of her personality animating her features. George was right, she had lost weight since she’d left school and Fred wondered if his twin was right as well about something horrible happening to her during the war. If anything, she looked even thinner now than she had just a week ago. It wasn’t just the burn on her side that had shocked him earlier; it was the sight of her ribs, too close under her skin.

When the movie ended and the screen went to a blank blue, she stirred slightly but didn’t wake. She frowned a little in her sleep and Fred found he wanted to smooth the tiny line that formed between her brows. She didn’t deserve this burden, but then none of them deserved all the losses they’d suffered. He was amazed at the strength she’d shown this evening in the face of her ordeal. How could he have ever thought her a mouse?

She stirred again and made a little whimpering noise in her throat.

“Shh,” he soothed and rested his lips against her temple. She quieted and soon he was lulled to sleep by the soft sound of her breathing.

Some time later, a sharp pain on the top of his head awakened George. He reached up to discover the cause and found that Thalassa had her hand tangled in his hair. She clenched her fist and muttered in her sleep. He carefully pried her hand open and sat up, rubbing his scalp. It sounded like she was describing how to make some potion or another. In the blue glow of the telly, he saw that she and Fred had fallen asleep with their heads close together, Fred’s arm around her shoulders.

Thalassa frowned and continued to mumble. Her words became a little clearer. “No. No…I don’t want to brew the Cup again.” Even with sleep slurring her words, George could hear the capital letter. “Is there no one else?” she continued in a plaintive voice.

He almost smiled. He’d never heard her come so close to actually whinging in all the time he’d known her. He reached out to shake her awake, but her next words stayed his hand.

“But Professor—these potions—they’re dark magic. Are you sure they need these?”

What the hell?

“Why won’t they let me brew Healing Draughts?” She sounded angry now. “I can do them up faster than anyone.”

George noticed that she’d woken Fred and he held up a hand to tell him to let her continue.

“What is it?” Fred mouthed, but Thalassa was talking again.

“No, no, it can't be.” She was clearly panicking now, continuing to protest, her voice getting louder and more frantic. Suddenly, she threw her arms out and lunged forward. “No!” she screamed. “George! Fred!”

Fred put his arms around her to restrain her. “Shh, Thalassa, hush. We’re right here.”

“Fred?” Still she dreamed. “I thought I saw—Where’s George?”

He caught her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m right here.”

“But—“ she stopped. “Don’t let them give you the Cup. I’ve got DeathStop.”

“We’re fine,” Fred told her. “We’re not hurt. Go back to sleep.”

“All right,” she agreed and dropped her head back onto his shoulder, letting go of George.

“What the bloody hell was that about?” Fred whispered, shocked.

“I don’t know,” George whispered back. “Let’s get her into bed, though. It can’t be comfortable, sleeping sitting up.” He carefully scooped her into his arms and stood. He couldn’t believe how light she was. Ginny’s cat weighed more than Thalassa did.

She sighed and wound her arms around his neck. “George,” she purred sleepily. “You’re always there just when I need you. Did you know you’re my best friend?”

Fred snickered.

“Shut up, Fred,” George hissed. “She’s still asleep. A little light, please?”

“Lumos,” Fred muttered and the tip of his wand glowed about as brightly as a candle. He held it up and led the way back to the corner that had been partitioned off to make a bedroom. It looked a great deal like one of the dorms at Hogwarts, with a four-poster bed and Thalassa’s old school trunk at the foot. Fred pulled back the coverlet and George set her down on the bed.

“Mm.” She grabbed his arm. “Stay with me?”

“We’ll just be in the other room,” he reassured her.

“All right,” she sighed and let him go. She rolled on her side and tucked her hands up under her cheek like a small child. Fred pulled the sheet over her and pushed a lock of hair back from her face. He and George stood there a moment, watching her sleep before they turned and left her to her dreams. If she talked any more in her sleep, they didn’t hear it.

When Thalassa woke in the morning, she was in her own bed with no idea how she’d gotten there. She wandered into the living room, yawning and combing her fingers through her hair. Sprawled on the couch was Fred, snoring slightly. George had pushed the chaise and the chair together to make a surface big enough to sleep on. Thalassa shook her head ruefully. She couldn’t believe they were still here. She let them sleep and went and had a quick bath. They hadn’t moved when she tiptoed back through to her bedroom to dress in clean robes. A glance at the clock told her it was already quarter to eight and she thought perhaps she ought to fix some breakfast for her guests so they could be on their way. Surely they had more important things to do than hang about her flat, keeping her company. She must’ve made some noise getting dressed, because they were both awake when she came back out.

“Good morning.” She smiled at them a little shyly. What did one say to men after they spent the night, however innocently?

“For you, perhaps,” Fred groaned, stretching and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, you didn’t have to put me in my bed. We could’ve all slept jumbled up like a litter of puppies on the couch. Then we’d all three have stiff necks.”

“That was George’s idea.” He shrugged and headed off to the bathroom.

“Too much togetherness, George?” she said ruefully. “Sorry, didn’t mean to impose on our friendship.”

“No, although it didn’t help that you tried to pull out great handfuls of my hair.”

“Did I really? I am sorry, then.”

“It’s all right. You were having some sort of nightmare, kept going on about not wanting to brew some cup. Does that mean anything to you?”

“I talked in my sleep? No wonder you wanted me in the other room.” She turned and headed into the kitchen. “I suppose I owe the two of you a big breakfast to make up for the rough night. How do you like your eggs? And do you want bacon or sausages?”

George followed her. He hadn’t missed the way she’d dodged his question completely. “It doesn’t matter. You should know by now we’ll eat anything you put in front of us. So what’s this Cup that had you so upset?”

“Who knows?” she dismissed his question a little too quickly. “I was asleep. It likely doesn’t mean anything.” She rummaged in the cabinet for her skillets to avoid his searching gaze.

“You said quite a few other curious things, too,” he continued, watching her reactions closely. Her eyes met his briefly before her glance skittered away. “For instance, you said you wanted to brew Healing Draughts because you could do them up faster than anyone else. I thought that was odd since you don’t have anyone else working at the apothecary with you. And who would be telling you what you could and couldn’t brew?”

“I don’t know. I told you, I was asleep,” she said with a touch of irritation, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes again.

“I think you know exactly what it all means,” he returned quietly. “It has something to do with the war, doesn’t it?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she protested.

He took two strides towards her and grasped her elbow, turning her to face him. “Then why won’t you look at me?”

She did, finally, and he could see fear in her blue eyes as she bit her lip.

“Shall I go on? You also complained that a professor had you brew potions that were dark magic. I’ll bet I could guess who that was.”

Her face lost all its color at that and her eyes widened in shock.

“I see that means something to you. Feel free to start explaining any part of it,” he said with a grim look.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She pulled her arm out of his grip and turned away again.

“You were talkative enough last night,” he responded, not giving up.

“Last night?” Fred wandered in on the last part of the conversation. “Did you know you talk in your sleep, Thalassa?”

“We were just discussing that,” George answered for her, folding his arms across his chest.

“It was actually a little scary.” Fred leaned against the counter. “You seemed to think George and I were hurt. You didn’t settle down until we told you we were fine.”

“I told George he shouldn’t take anything I said in my sleep seriously.”

“No?” Fred smirked. “Not even the part where you told him he was your best friend?”

She smiled weakly. “Well, all right, maybe that part wasn’t just random mumbling.”

George frowned. “If I’m supposed to be your best friend, then you should know you can talk to me about anything.”

She sighed and ran her fingers nervously through her hair. They weren’t giving up no matter how she tried to avoid their questions. “Are you absolutely sure you two can take ‘no’ for an answer? Because it doesn’t feel that way from where I stand.”

“I told you before: When it’s the right answer.”

“Who decides when it’s the right answer?” Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Never mind. Look, there are things I can’t tell you because they’re not my secrets to share.”

“So tell us whatever’s left.”

She hugged her arms and chose her words carefully. “I had a nightmare last night that the two of you were dead. I remember it quite clearly. I was back up at the shop, but it wasn’t Ian I found, it was you two.” She shuddered. “It was exactly the sort of scene I’d been dreading these past few years.”

“You’ve been fretting about our safety all this time?” Fred was surprised.

“Well, yes. I know you two. You wouldn’t have stood idly by while others did the fighting. And look at the company you keep. You’d have been in the thick of things whether you wanted to or not.”

“I’m so sorry for not keeping in contact with you,” George apologized quietly. “If we’d stayed in touch, maybe you wouldn’t have been so worried about us.”

“No I—I rather avoided you, to be perfectly honest. I couldn’t do anything to help and I didn’t want to just wait and wring my hands every time you went out. I had to hope that your natural ability to come through tight spots would serve you well.”

“You must have been really fussed about us to still have nightmares now.”

“Well of course I was. You two and Lee Jordan were the first friends I ever made. After all the times you stood up for me, knowing I couldn’t do the same for you caused some sleepless nights.”

“What about the rest of it?” George pressed.

“I told you, I’m not free to share certain things. As for the rest,” she sighed and looked down, “well, it’s my own shame to bear.”

“Confession is good for the soul,” Fred suggested.

“Have you never done anything you’d rather people didn’t know? I don’t mean just things you could get in trouble for. I mean something you’re truly ashamed of.”

They were quiet for a moment. Then Fred said, “It doesn’t matter. George knows all my secrets, and I know his. If we ever needed someone to talk to, we have each other.”

“Thalassa, there’s nothing you could tell me that would make me think any less of you,” George asserted.

“I wish I had nothing I could tell you that makes me think less of myself. Look, I’m just not ready to talk about this. If—“ she swallowed. “If you decide you’d rather not be around me, I’ll understand.”

“What do you take us for, a pair of Slytherins?” George was indignant.

“Besides,” Fred added. “Anyone who can tell us apart in their sleep is too dangerous to be allowed to run around loose.”

“That’s right,” George agreed. “Even asleep you didn’t get us mixed up. How do you do it?”

“I don’t know. Are you sure it wasn’t just a lucky guess? What did I say, anyway?”

“First, when you were screaming about us being hurt, Fred grabbed you to keep you from falling off the couch and you knew who he was straight away.”

“Then a bit later, when George picked you up to carry you off to bed, you said,” here Fred threw himself at his twin, hung off George’s neck and said in a high-pitched, melodramatic voice, “’Oh George, you’re always there just when I need you. Did you know you’re my best friend?’” Then he started making kissing noises.

“Bugger off.” George pushed him away.

“Did I really, George?” she asked, mortified.

“Well, yes.”

“And the last part? Did I start snogging you in my sleep?”

“No, Fred’s just being a complete twat.”

“But that’s not the best part,” Fred laughed. “When George put you in bed, you grabbed on to him and begged him to stay with you.” He affected a pensive expression. “Or perhaps you were asking both of us to stay. You weren’t specific.”

“Then I’m surprised I didn’t wake up this morning sandwiched between the two of you.”

Fred choked and began to snicker while George turned brick red.

Thalassa realized what she’d said and blushed as well. “Very funny,” she muttered, trying to ignore the disturbing and (if she were completely honest with herself) somewhat intriguing images the idea presented.

“Well, I thought so,” Fred said. “Forget about cooking. Let’s go out for breakfast. Then we’ll take you to our shop and give you the grand tour.”

“You shouldn’t be eating out. You should be saving your money.”

“Objection duly noted. It won’t break us to treat you to a meal, and breakfast is cheap. Go put on some Muggle clothes. Fred and I found this great little café the other day.”

“Oh, and feel free not to wear anything underneath again,” Fred added with a lascivious look.

She smiled and shook her head, confidence restored. “Sleep with a bloke once and he thinks he can dictate your wardrobe.” She left them arguing over which one of them she’d been referring to and changed into a summery blue and yellow patterned dress. She tucked her wand into the pocket and then presented herself for the twins’ inspection. “Good enough?” she asked, turning around.

“I’m not sure. Turn around again,” Fred said with a glint in his eye.

She blushed anew and looked away.

“Just ignore him,” George advised. “Unless you happed to know the Bat-Bogey Hex. That’s what Ginny uses to keep him from getting too obnoxious.”

A laugh bubbled up from her. “I suppose I’ll have to learn that one. Let’s go.”

After breakfast, they stopped by the apothecary. Thalassa was concerned because she hadn’t gotten an owl from the Aurors yet, telling her it was all right to come back and start cleaning up the damage. The forensics wizards were still there, collecting evidence and looking for some clue to the identity of her intruder. She let them know she was going to be in Diagon Alley for a few hours before she returned home, just in case they finished while she was out. Then she and the twins headed down to the other end of the alley to Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes.

The storefront was unlike anything Thalassa had ever seen. The display windows were enchanted to look like two huge eyes that blinked periodically and revealed different items each time they opened. Between the windows, the door looked like a huge, closed mouth. Fred stepped up to it and said, “Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs,” and the mouth opened with a sound like a belch. Thalassa laughed in spite of herself.

The inside of the shop was bright and just as unusual as the outside. Shelves were placed apparently at random and leaned drunkenly, the products displayed on them held in place by nothing more than magic. The effect was similar to a funhouse at a Muggle amusement park and Thalassa smiled. Even the way the shop smelled reminded her of a carnival: candy floss, deep fried foods, and a slight hint of petrol. It was perfect. In the centre of the shop floor was a carousel, but instead of wooden horses or other animals, boxes upon boxes of enchanted sweets moved up and down as the whole thing twirled slowly to calliope music in a minor key. In one corner, the smallest size Portable Swamp was set up and nearby a Headless Hat raised and lowered over a bust of Ptolemy, making the head appear and disappear. Other items were set up all around the walls and scattered in between the shelves in displays that demonstrated their function.

“So, what do you think?” Fred asked.

“I think it’s brilliant,” she said, eyes shining. “You should put pictures of your shop in your catalogue with a caption that reads something like, ‘Visit our showroom in Diagon Alley’. Then list your hours and address.” She caught sight of a thick chain strung across the wall behind the counter. A heavy iron peg dangled from one end of the chain. “What in the world is that?”

“That, my dear, is the stuff of legends.” George draped his arm around her shoulders and ushered her behind the counter. He hooked a spindly, three-legged stool with his foot and pulled it out. “Have a seat.”

She obediently perched on the stool and folded her hands primly in her lap. Then she looked up at George with a rapt expression that was only partially feigned. He and Fred related the story of their seventh year at Hogwarts, of Dolores Umbridge and how she’d kicked them and Harry Potter off the Quidditch team and confiscated their broomsticks.

“She didn’t! It was your last year!” Thalassa interrupted, outraged. “Ooh,” she seethed. “That—“ she struggled to find a word foul enough to describe Umbridge, but couldn’t think of one. “She’s lucky I was gone from school by then. I’d have hexed her so hard that all the Healers at St. Mungo’s wouldn’t have been able to remove her head from her arse.” She paused and a supercilious sneer crept across her face. “No,” she drawled. “I’d have slipped Polyjuice Potion with toad spittle into her porridge.” She nodded with satisfaction.

Fred and George exchanged looks of amazement. “If you’d ever met Umbridge, you’d think someone beat you to it,” Fred laughed.

“You are a thoroughly dangerous witch, love,” George complimented. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”

His words seemed to blunt her temper and she relaxed somewhat. “Where does the chain come in?”

“We were just getting to that.” They continued with their tale, describing the pranks they’d staged, each one with a new Wheezes product. They finished with how they’d set up the large Portable Swamp in the fifth floor corridor of the east wing and Umbridge’s intention to let Filch horsewhip them.

“No,” Thalassa whispered in horror.

George nodded solemnly. “But Fred said as how he thought we’d outgrown full-time education and it was time we got out into the real world. Then we Summoned our brooms. Ripped the chain right out of the wall and smashed through her office door. I rather hope they never repaired it.”

“We told Peeves to give her hell from us and we flew off into the sunset,” Fred finished.

She glanced from one to the other, a slight smile playing about her lips. “Admit it: the only reason you two went to school at all that year was to advertise all your new products.”

“Well, there was always Quidditch,” Fred offered. “But you’re mostly right. We didn’t plan on staying for our N.E.W.T.s”

“So now here you are, owners of your own business, and famous to future generations of witches and wizards. Is it everything you’d hoped? Are you happy?”

“For the most part.” Fred shrugged. “When we implement some of your ideas and start turning a decent profit, it’ll be more like what I imagined.”

“Then we can turn our attention to more pleasant duties,” George sighed.

“Such as?” she prompted.

“Well, hardly a week goes by without Mum harping on about wanting grandchildren. Know anyone who might be interested in going into a partnership with one of us to get that cottage industry off the ground?”

She willed herself not to blush (with limited success) and said, “I think you’d better interview applicants for those posts yourselves. I won’t pretend to know what sorts of qualifications you’d require.”

“Oh, someone with a sense of humour, to be sure,” Fred began with a twinkle in his eye.

“And who can appreciate the value of a good prank,” George continued.

“She’s got to be mad for Quidditch…”

“And have enough brass to stand up to great, bullying Slytherin gits…”

“Good business sense wouldn’t hurt…

“And she’s got to be able to keep quiet about our trade secrets…”

“She’ll need to be good at either charms or potions, to help make items for the shop…”

“And be able to get along with both of us,” George finished.

“You two don’t want much, do you?” she laughed. “Why not ask for women who can trick Mrs. Norris and her progeny and negotiate a trade agreement with the giants while you’re at it?”

“Nah, the only giant we ever wanted to trade with was Hagrid,” Fred waved dismissively.

“And—hang on, you figured out how to get ‘round Mrs. Norris,” George teased.

Thalassa blinked. “Oh, that’s right. I’d forgotten. I suppose that’s not such an outstanding talent to ask for.”

“How did you manage that?” Fred wanted to know.

“Catnip laced with a sleeping draught,” she answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Come on, somebody would have tried that before.”

“Well, I may have asked someone to transfigure the packet of catnip into a mouse and then change it back once Mrs. Norris caught it.”

Fred looked from Thalassa’s guilty face to George’s sublimely innocent one. “Hmm. Guess I don’t know all your secrets, George.”

Just then an owl flew through a small window set near the ceiling and landed on the counter in front of Thalassa. It held out its leg for her to take the parchment tied there and hooted importantly. She took the message and unrolled it while George offered the owl a treat from a dish next to the cash register.

“It’s from the Aurors. They’re finally finished with my shop.” She grabbed Fred’s wrist and checked his watch. “If I work hard, I can have it ready to open tomorrow.” She slid off the stool.

“We’ll come and help,” George offered. “If there’s one thing we’ve gotten good at over the years, it’s cleaning up great, huge messes.”

When they arrived back at the apothecary, they split up. Fred and George insisted on cleaning upstairs while Thalassa worked to restore order in the back of the shop. The Aurors had at least repaired the back door, so all that was left was the damage done by the intruder. She was more than halfway done when the twins came back down, looking pale and subdued.

“Thalassa, we’ve been talking,” George began.

She stopped sweeping and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

“And we rather thought that you shouldn’t be working late here by yourself,” Fred continued.

“Unfortunately, I still have a business to run and orders to fill. I’ll just have to take extra precautions,” she sighed.

“That’s what we were talking about.” George looked at Fred, who nodded. “We decided one or the other of us will keep you company on the nights you stay late and then see you home.”

“That’s sweet of you to offer, but it’s not necessary.”

“It is necessary,” George contradicted. “There’s someone out there that wants something they think they can find here and they’re not fussed about killing whoever gets in their way. This is not open for discussion. Fred or I will be here every night until they catch whoever broke in and killed your friend or until you aren’t working late any more.”

Thalassa looked at their determined expressions and felt tears gather in her eyes. “You two,” she said thickly, “are completely mental, but you are undoubtedly the best friends I’ve ever had. All right,” she acquiesced. “I would be grateful for your company when I’m working late.”

“Excellent,” Fred said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s get this lot cleaned up so we can get out of here.”