To Dare

To Dare

Chapter Six

“Your Mum seems a bit…colder than usual,” George commented as he and Thalassa hurried through the light drizzle the few blocks from the Underground station to her building.

She sighed. “I’m afraid one of her gossipy friends told her exactly what your father does at the Ministry. I don’t think she’s too pleased about the lot of you being so close to Harry Potter, either.”

“Why not? She wasn’t one of You-Know-Who’s supporters, was she?”

“No, at least not overtly. Dad wouldn’t have stood for it. Plenty of her friends were a bit more open about their loyalties, though.”

“That must have been uncomfortable for you, especially when you got Sorted into Gryffindor.”

“You have no idea,” she replied dryly. “It always seemed best to keep to myself at school. No sense making friends I couldn’t invite over during the summer hols. You and Fred were the closest friends I had.”

“Yes, I noticed,” said George sympathetically. “Missed out on quite a bit didn’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I’ve always held the opinion that a Hogwarts education isn’t complete without a trip to the Astronomy Tower on a Friday night. You turned down all the invitations I ever knew about. Some people began to wonder if you just weren’t interested in blokes.”

“I managed a trip to the Astronomy Tower,” she protested. “And a couple of other places about the school, for that matter.”

“Really? With who?”

“None of your business,” was her tart response.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. Whoever you were with kept quiet about it too, and you know what the most likely reason is to keep information like that to yourself.”

“Oh Great Circe, George,” she said exasperatedly. “You didn’t actually think that did you?”

“Well,” he began slyly. “You managed to resist me, what else could I think?”

“You were my friend,” she said firmly, “only one step removed from brother status. Besides, we both know you were only joking when you used to make those suggestions.”

They walked slowly down the third floor corridor toward her flat as they talked. When they passed her next-door neighbour’s, the door opened suddenly. George grabbed her arm and pulled her back, his hand already gripping his wand inside his pocket. He glared menacingly at the wiry, dark-haired man in the doorway.

Thalassa pulled her arm from George’s grasp. “Hello, Michael,” she greeted her neighbour. “How’s the new sculpture coming along?”

“Oh, fine, fine,” he fluttered his hand dismissively. “Do you have a minute for a bit of a chat?”

“It’s awfully late. Can it wait until tomorrow?”

Michael’s eyes flicked sideways to quickly size up George. “It’s rather important. It’ll only take a minute or two.”

“All right,” she agreed. “George, I’ll be fine from here. Thanks for seeing me home.”

He slid his arm possessively around her waist, holding her back from going into Michael’s flat. “I thought we were going to go over those papers tonight.”

Thalassa glanced up at him in surprise. This was the first she’d heard of anything of the sort.

“This will only take a minute,” Michael repeated, stepping aside and holding the door open for them. “I won’t keep you two from your plans.”

Thalassa removed George’s hand from her waist and pulled him after her out of the corridor. There was little furniture in Michael’s flat, but he hurriedly cleared off a couple of mismatched chairs for them.

“George, hmm?” Michael frowned at Thalassa. “I thought you said his name was Fred.”

“Fred’s his brother. Twins,” she explained tersely. “What’s going on, Michael? Not that I don’t love our little chats, but…” she let her voice trail off.

“Oh, oh right. Well, someone tried to get into your flat today. Short, rather plain, thinning brown hair, sneaky-looking; he had a big, really ugly bloke with him. He was scratching and poking at your door with a stick of some sort and then the ugly one tried to break down your door. I don’t know why it didn’t just fall apart like wet tissue. He was that big. You know I would have called the police, but my phone’s cut off.”

“It’s fine,” Thalassa reassured him. “You didn’t say anything to them or do anything foolish, did you?”

“No, no. I wasn’t sure what to do, but since they didn’t get in, I thought I’d just let you know. That was all right, wasn’t it?”

“Of course. If they should happen to come back, you stay out of their way. In fact, it would be safest if you didn’t let them see you at all. Is there any way you could get your phone reconnected, just in case?”

“Until I sell a sculpture, I can’t afford it.”

“I see,” she nodded sympathetically. “Well, thank you for telling me about this. I’ll see what I can do to take care of the problem. I mean it about staying out of their way. Nothing I own is worth you getting hurt, do you understand?”

“You’re a good friend and a great neighbour, Thalassa, but I wouldn’t tangle with either one of those thugs even to save my own sculptures. The little one had an evil look about him.” He shuddered delicately.

She rose to leave. “You take care, Michael. Do let me know when your next show is.”

“I will. You just be sure to bring this one and his brother to the gallery. They’ll help distract the buyers from the number of noughts going on the cheques.”

She smiled but couldn’t look at George as they walked out. They heard the lock turn on Michael’s door behind them.

“Who—“ George began.

“Shh. Make sure no one interrupts me or sees, would you?” She pulled out her wand as she stepped up to her door. The security spell on her door had a stun function if tampered with. Obviously, whoever had been here earlier knew something about disabling such spells, but they hadn’t been good enough to get in. She wished she’d spent the extra Galleons to have the top-of-the-range spells installed. Those would’ve automatically alerted the Aurors and recorded an image of whoever tried to break in. Thalassa tapped the door in three spots and recited the short charm. Then she gave the password that she’d set when she bought the spells and the door swung open. George quickly stepped in front of her and entered, wand out. She followed him, turning on the lights and shutting the door behind them. He went through the entire flat, checking any place that was big enough for a person to hide and a few that weren’t. There was a fire burning in the fireplace, which told Thalassa that someone had tried to use the Floo to get in as well. Since her Floo wasn’t set up to accept incoming traffic, they hadn’t been successful. She checked her security mirror, but it didn’t have any information she didn’t already know.

“Find anything?” she asked George.

“No. I need parchment and a quill.”

“On the worktable,” she pointed.

He scratched out a quick message and strode over to her owl, but the bird flapped her wings and sidled away from him. “Thalassa, could you please…”

“You can hardly blame her,” she scolded. “You look as if you’re more likely to tear her leg off than tie a message to it.” She held out her wrist and the owl hopped on to her arm. “Shh. That’s a good girl. Go ahead, George, but gently.”

He carefully tied the parchment to the owl’s leg. “Take that to Ron Weasley at the Auror Training Academy,” he ordered.

Thalassa carried her owl to the window and opened the casement. “You heard him, Ixchel: Ron Weasley at the Auror Training Academy, no one else. Track him down if he’s out.” The tawny owl took off into the night. Thalassa shut the window and turned back to George. “Rain’s clearing off at least,” she said, trying to think about anything other than how violated she felt that someone had tried to get into her flat.

“Pack a bag. I’m taking you home with me tonight as soon as you get done giving your report to the Aurors,” George said with a frown.

“You most certainly are not,” she refused indignantly. She might be afraid, but this was her home. No one was going to chase her off.

“Don’t be stubborn. Whoever tried to break in earlier could come back.”

“They didn’t get in the first time,” she pointed out. “Besides, you heard Michael. He doesn’t have any way to call for help, not that the Muggle law enforcement would be any use.”

“This is no time to go all Gryffindor on me. Someone is after you or something you have. You don’t know how dangerous these people could be.”

Before the row could escalate, there was a knock at the door and George went to answer it. It was Ron and the female Auror from the night of the break in at the shop. George refused to let them in at first. “Ron, why don’t you like spiders?”

Ron rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. “Because when I was three, Fred turned my teddy bear into a spider.”

George turned to the pink-haired witch. “Tonks, do that thing that Ginny and Hermione always wanted you to do.”

She closed her eyes tightly a moment and her nose took on the shape of a pig’s snout. George immediately stepped aside.

“Paranoid much, George?” Ron asked.

For an answer, George only gestured in Thalassa’s direction.

“I see. More trouble, Miss Hartwell?”

“Someone tried to break into my flat today while I was working. At least one of them was a wizard, because they tampered with the security spells on the door and tried to get in through the Floo.”

“But they didn’t get in?”

“No.” She frowned past his shoulder. “George, would you go put the kettle on or something?”

The Auror he’d called Tonks took him by the arm. “Wotcher, George. Quit hovering.”

He stormed into the kitchen and she ambled after him. He snatched the kettle off the cooker and turned around to fill it from the kitchen tap. “Stupid, stubborn, secretive…” he muttered angrily as he slammed the kettle back on the cooker and turned on the gas flame.

“So she’s the one,” Tonks said quietly.

“The one what?” George asked belligerently, glaring at the kettle.

“The one you used to pretend you were with when you were shagging me. I wondered why you kept asking if I couldn’t manage ‘blonde’.”

He whipped his head around to stare at her in shock for a moment, but recovered quickly. “I would never be such a git as to pretend I was with someone other than who I was with,” he lied, his ears turning red.

“No, of course not,” she said mildly. “So what happened today?”

“Her neighbour told us that two men tried to break in. Thalassa had to reset the security charms. I searched the whole flat and didn’t find anyone. I have no idea if anything is missing, but nothing looked out of place when we came in.”

“Hmm,” she nodded thoughtfully.

He got out cups and tea bags. “Tried to tell her she can’t stay here tonight. She won’t hear of it, though. Worried about her neighbours. Stubborn. After all the effort Fred and I have put in to keep her safe, to take a risk like this…”

“Fred, too?” Tonks asked with a deceptively innocent expression.

That nearly stopped George cold. He’d noticed the way Fred watched Thalassa sometimes. Surely his brother knew George’s feelings in that direction. He forced his attention back to the matter at hand. “We were all friends back at Hogwarts,” he explained, his tone a bit more harsh than he intended. “She came out to all the Quidditch practices, helped us out of a spot of trouble now and then.” His expression mellowed. “She could always be counted on to appreciate a good prank, and she believed in the joke shop from the very beginning. She’s been helping us reorganize the business. When there was that trouble at her shop, we decided to keep her company when she works late, see her safely home, that sort of thing.”

“Purely for the sake of friendship,” Tonks smirked.

George just scowled and said nothing. The teakettle whistled and he turned off the flame.

“None for me,” Ron called from the living room. “Tonks, I think we’re done here, unless you have some questions for Miss Hartwell.”

“No,” she left George standing there. “You shouldn’t stay here tonight,” she said to Thalassa. “Is there somewhere else you can go?”

“I can’t just abandon my Muggle neighbours. At least one of my would-be burglars is a wizard. The people who live around me won’t stand a chance on their own.”

“It’s not safe for you, either,” George insisted. “Ian was a wizard and they were able to get him.”

“They took Ian by surprise,” Thalassa returned hotly. “And there’s no evidence that this is connected to the break in at he apothecary.”

“All right,” Tonks interrupted before the row could get out of control. “Is there someone that can stay here with you? You really shouldn’t be here alone, at least not until you can upgrade your security spells. George, you don’t have anywhere else to be tonight, do you?”

“No,” he answered with a surprised glance at Tonks.

“You can’t stay here,” Thalassa protested. “It wouldn’t be proper. What would your family say?”

George folded his arms across his chest. “Either I’m staying tonight or you’re coming back to the Burrow with me, but you’re not staying here alone. Don’t you worry about what my family will say.” He glared at Ron.

Ron turned a chuckle into a strangled cough and looked at Thalassa. “They’re right, you know. You have the official recommendation of an Auror. No one will think anything of it.”

Thalassa pushed her hair back from her face with one hand. “Oh very well,” she agreed gracelessly.

“Very wise,” Tonks said with a nod. “We’ll have someone to do a sweep of the area later on tonight and a few times tomorrow while you’re at work. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.” She shot a quick glance at George that said, ‘Don’t say I never did you a favour.’

Thalassa saw Ron and Tonks to the door and carefully locked it behind them. Her shoulders drooped tiredly. “I’ll make up the couch for you,” she told George. He didn’t reply and she looked at him curiously. He seemed deep in thought. “George?”

“I don’t really want to be that far away from you.” He held up a hand to forestall her protest. “I’m tired of arguing. Look, they tried the Floo and the front door. What’s left? The windows. If I’m all the way in here, I might not be able to get to you in time.”

Thalassa opened her mouth and closed it again without saying anything. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she considered his point.

“Come on,” he said impatiently. “It’s for your own protection. Besides, you said earlier that I’m only one step removed from brother status.” Argh. Not the image of him he wanted her to have in mind.

She sighed. “I’m tired of arguing with you, too. I’m going to have a bath and go to bed.”

“No dinner?”

“I’m not hungry. You can help yourself to whatever you can find in the kitchen.” She left him without another word and went into the bathroom. After her bath, she conjured George a toothbrush, razor, dressing gown and pair of pyjamas. She told him she’d left the items on the hamper. “Sorry if the size is wrong,” she apologized shyly. “I’ve never conjured men’s clothes.”

“I can fix it,” he reassured her. “Just double-check your security spells before you go to bed.”

She nodded and he went into the bathroom. As she moved about the flat, checking the spells, she could hear the water running. After a few minutes, she heard the water shut off and then George splashing in the tub a bit. She tried not to think about him, naked, just on the other side of the door. Resolutely, she turned and went back to her bedroom and changed into a nightgown that covered her from neck to mid-thigh. She thought about putting on one of her long nightgowns, but they were all too hot for summer and the flat was already over-warm from the fire left in the grate all evening. She brushed her hair and quickly climbed into bed when she heard the gurgle of water being let out of the tub. George appeared around the side of the wardrobe a short time later, wearing only the bottoms of the pyjamas she’d conjured. Thalassa swallowed nervously and tore her eyes away from his well-muscled torso.

“You did a good job of guessing my size,” he commented. “You didn’t give me a comb, though.”

“Oh, you can just use my brush. It’s on the vanity, there,” she pointed, keeping her eyes averted. “I usually set the alarm for six. Do you need to be up any earlier than that?”

“No, six is fine. Fred and I take turns opening the shop, depending on who kept you company the night before. As long as I make it in by lunchtime it’ll be fine. Why did you suddenly decide it wasn’t proper for me to spend the night? Fred and I were both here all night not more than two weeks ago.”

“Ron’s your little brother. I didn’t know if you cared that he knew you’d been here or not, and it wasn’t really any of his and—what was her name--Tonks’s business.” She paused. “And I suppose I’m just too used to keeping secrets, yours and mine. It’s force of habit by now to misdirect and evade.”

She felt the mattress dip as he got into bed next to her. With a wave of her hand, she put out the candles and slid down to lie stiffly with the sheet up to her neck. “Goodnight, George,” she said.

He chuckled. “You’re perfectly safe, you know. I’ve never forced myself on an unwilling witch.”

She was sure she must have been glowing in the dark as she felt a blush spread over her whole body. “I didn’t think you had,” she said in an embarrassed little voice.

He rolled on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “Look at me, Thalassa.”

She opened her eyes and stared up into his face. In the faint glow of moonlight that leaked in around her curtains, she could see he was smiling at her.

“I’m here to protect you. That means no matter how much you beg me, I’m not going to make love to you tonight.”

“Oh you!” She reached up and shoved at his bare shoulder. It was like trying to push over a stone wall, only warm and smooth instead of rough and cold. He caught her hand and trapped it there. Then he slid his other arm around her and lay down, pulling her up against him.

“Relax,” he told her and gave her a little squeeze. “Go to sleep.”

After a moment, she settled her cheek against his chest and tried to do as he’d said.

“Goodnight, love,” he said and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

That night, Thalassa slept more soundly than she had in a long time. When she woke in the morning, she found she hadn’t moved except to slide her leg over George’s. She decided that it might be worth trusting someone enough to get married just to not sleep alone. She stirred and stretched, squinting at the bright streak of light that streamed through the crack in the curtains.

“Sleep well?” George’s voice rumbled under her ear.

She lifted her head to smile at him. “Yes, actually. I didn’t talk in my sleep again and keep you awake, did I?”

“I didn’t sleep, but no, you didn’t talk.”

“You didn’t get any rest?”

“I told you: I was here to protect you.” What he didn’t tell her was that he couldn’t have slept anyway. Holding her in his arms all night was an exquisite torture impossible to sleep through.

“What time is it? It’s awfully bright to be before six.”

“It’s not. I turned off the alarm and let you sleep.”

She sat up quickly and looked at the clock. It was quarter past seven. She groaned. “I wish you hadn’t done that. I’m going to be late now.” She threw back the covers and scrambled out of bed.

“The shop doesn’t open until nine. You’ve got plenty of time.”

“No, I don’t.” She gathered a clean robe and underwear from the wardrobe. “I always take the Underground to work. It gives me time to prepare myself to deal with my mother, and I try to get an early start on the day’s work. It’s nice and quiet before we open for customers.” She rushed off to the bathroom.

George followed after her more slowly. “I’m sorry,” he called. “You’ve been so tired lately, and I figured you could just Apparate.”

“It’ll be fine.” Her voice was muffled. “It’s just that it upsets my routine.”

“Why don’t I take care of getting your security spells upgraded? Just let me know what company you use and what you want. I’ll send your owl and stay here to let them in,” he offered. He’d be damned if he was going to let Fred stay the night alone with Thalassa.

“That would be,” the bathroom door opened and Thalassa finished more quietly, “very helpful, actually.” She walked past George to the kitchen and put some bread in the toaster. “Coffee or tea?” she asked him.

“Whatever you’re having,” he answered. He watched her go about making her scant breakfast. “Is that all you ever eat in the morning?” he asked with a frown.

“Yes,” she replied defensively. “I’m sorry I don’t have time to cook for you.”

“No, that’s fine,” he said dismissively. “It’s just you don’t eat enough to keep a fairy alive. It’s no wonder you lost so much weight.”

“It’s different when one doesn’t have a team of fifty or so house-elves whipping up feasts three times a day, plus giving away heaps of food to anyone who tickles the pear in the middle of the night. Besides, I needed to lose some weight.”

“There was nothing wrong with the way you looked back in school,” he insisted.

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “Would you have let me on the Quidditch team if you’d been team captain?”

He shrugged. “Depends on what position you wanted to play and how well you flew, but that’s neither here nor there. I’m worried about you. You work too hard, don’t eat or sleep enough, and you apparently don’t do much to relax.”

“There’s no need for you to worry. I’m not afraid of a little hard work and I eat and sleep when I need to.” She finished her tea and brushed toast crumbs off her robe. “I have to leave. Here’s the security company I use.” She hastily wrote down the name and direction of the firm that had installed her original spells. “Just tell them to send the bill to the shop. Get something close to top-of-the-range, but make sure I’m getting my money’s worth. I trust your judgment. If Ixchel gives you any problems, sweet-talk her and bribe her with some owl treats. I’ll see you later.” Impulsively, she hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for staying with me last night. It was—really nice.”

“Any time,” he said, hugging her in return.


The spells were installed the same day and life resumed its usual flow. Thalassa continued to put in long hours at the apothecary. Fred and George split their time between the daily operations of Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes and watching over her. Since she all but ignored them as she went about her work in the evenings, though, they were left with plenty of time to work on their new ledgers or sort through Trithemius Hartwell’s research. The twins ended up being far more productive than they would’ve been if left completely to their own devices. As Thalassa now worked through the weekend, Fred and George took to tidying the shop for her after closing on Saturday. She’d protested at first, saying they shouldn’t because she wasn’t even paying them to act as her bodyguards, much less her shop help. They pointed out that they hadn’t paid her for her business advice and said that they thought they got the better end of the deal. Thalassa’s mother remained disapproving to the point of rudeness.

One Saturday evening after returning to Thalassa’s flat for a late supper, the three of them listened to more of her Muggle music while they chatted idly about the latest news. A frantic knock at the door interrupted a long, comfortable gap in the conversation. Thalassa pointed her wand at the drapes that divided the main room of her flat and made two quick motions. The drapes flew shut, hiding her work area from view. She stood to answer the door, but George caught her arm and stopped her.

“Let Fred get it. You don’t know who it is.”

She rolled her eyes, but nodded her agreement.

A whey-faced young woman fidgeted in the corridor, her black-and-purple streaked hair falling into her eyes. She stared up at Fred, gaping like a beached fish.

“It’s all right,” Thalassa said, not sure who she was reassuring. “Madeline, what’s wrong?”

The girl jumped, startled. Her eyes flicked past Fred to Thalassa. “Oh, Miss Tee, you have to come quick.”

“Come in and tell me what’s wrong.”

“No, no.” Madeline took a step back. “You need to come. It’s Derek, he,” her gaze slid sideways. “He’s sick,” she finished.

“You should call an ambulance,” Thalassa suggested gently.

“No,” Madeline squeaked. “They’ll call the police.” Her enormous brown eyes filled with tears. “Katryn said as how you helped her girlfriend with your herbs ’n’ things. Please, Miss Tee,” she begged.

Thalassa then understood the nature of Madeline’s problem. “Come inside a moment. Fred, quit scaring her,” she said sternly. When Madeline had been persuaded to step inside and the door was shut behind her, Thalassa asked, “What did Derek take, Madeline? I have to know, so I know what herbs to bring.”

“H-h-heroin,” the girl stuttered.

“Is that all?”

“I think so, but he’s got a new dealer.”

“I’ll just get my things.” She took George’s arm and pulled him with her to the other side of the curtain.

“What are you doing?” he whispered. “You’re not going to use magic to help her boyfriend are you?”

“What do you want me to say?” She handed him a black leather satchel similar to an old-fashioned doctor’s bag.

“Tell me you’re not.”

“Fine, I’m not,” she lied.

“It’s illegal,” he hissed.

“George, they’re not going to snap my wand and send me to Azkaban because I used magic to help my neighbour survive an overdose. The worst that will happen is I’ll get a fine, and that’s only if I get caught.” She knelt down and began rummaging through the boxes stored under her worktable. She handed him up bottles of potions and phials of powders to put in the case. “Madeline and Derek live in the flat right below mine. If this is more than a simple overdose, I may need your help. I’ll knock on the ceiling.”

“You’re not going by yourself. This could be a trick. We’re coming with you.”

“No,” she said flatly. “It’s my choice to skirt the law to help my neighbours. I won’t drag you and Fred into this.”

“You just said that the worst that would happen is you’d get a fine.”

“Which you can’t afford right now. Besides, it could cause trouble for your family. Remember when Ron nicked your dad’s car?”

“Then we’ll have to make sure not to get caught.”

“All right,” she agreed reluctantly, unwilling to waste any more time arguing with him. “But only one of you goes. Madeline’s upset enough as it is and Derek doesn’t know you at all. There’s no telling how he might react to the lot of us descending on his flat.” She took her bag, patted her pocket to make sure her wand was secure, and slipped back into the main room. Madeline was twisting a handkerchief into knots while Fred murmured reassurances.

“Ready, Madeline?” Thalassa asked and the smaller girl nodded. “George is coming with us. Don’t worry,” she added hastily. “He’s not going to say anything to anyone. If Derek’s in a bad way, we might need a strong back.”

When they got downstairs, Thalassa went straight to work. Madeline’s boyfriend, Derek, was unconscious and barely breathing. His blond hair was plastered to his head with sweat and a strange, sweet-metallic smell hung in the air. Thalassa opened her bag and took out an eyedropper and a bottle of DeathStop. She pinched Derek’s mouth open and put a single drop of the clear, green liquid under his tongue. Then she examined his needle and other paraphernalia. “Madeline, how much did Derek have? Did he take it all?” He was a big man, somewhat overweight with huge shoulders and arms from playing drums for his band. It would take a lot of drugs to put him into this state, particularly if he were a habitual user.

“I don’t know,” Madeline wailed. “I’ve been trying to get him to go for treatment. He did this while I went to the market.”

“It’s okay,” Thalassa soothed. “You’re doing the best you can in a tough situation. I know Derek’s not a bad bloke. He’s just lost his way. What I need you to do now is make some tea. Really, really strong, got it? George, go with her.” She gave him a speaking look.

“Right. Tea.” He nodded. “Come on, Madeline. Let’s give Thalassa room to work.”

As soon as Madeline cleared out of the room, Thalassa took out her wand and waved it back and forth over the used syringe and spoon. She murmured an incantation and the residue glowed blue. Not mixed with any other drugs, then. Another spell and the glow deepened to a dark violet.

“Bloody hell,” she whispered. “George,” she called, “could you come in here a minute?”

He was at her side almost before she’d finished speaking.

She slipped a phial into his hand. “Put one drop of this in some tea and make sure Madeline drinks it. Then come back in here.”

Within a few minutes he’d accomplished the task and returned. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

“Derek here has found his way into some serious trouble. His heroin has been cursed. We need to report this. Go back up to my flat and use the Floo. Call someone you trust and get them here as quick as you can.”

“You shouldn’t be left here alone. This is too much of a coincidence.”

“I’ll be fine. If you’re that worried, send Fred down to keep me company.” She turned back to Derek’s inert form and began weaving one of the most complex spells within her range of ability. Using all her skills of concentration and focus, she gathered her energies. She didn’t hear George leave, nor Fred when he came in a few minutes later. Golden threads of light streamed from the tip of her wand and snaked toward Derek. Wherever they touched, they burrowed under his skin. Still unconscious, he began to twitch, and then thrash about. Thalassa recited her spell more insistently and a black thread began to emerge from the most recent track mark on Derek’s arm. She repeated the spell until the black thread came to its end. With her wand, she directed the poisoned drug into an empty jar and capped it tightly.

Thalassa quickly administered other potions she’d brought, those that would neutralize the rest of the drug in Derek’s system and begin to repair the damage done by the poisoned heroin. As she finished with a reviving draught, two more people entered the room behind her. She whirled around, wand drawn. She recognized one of the newcomers immediately. “Professor Lupin.” She lowered her wand slightly. Lupin looked much the same as he had when he had been their Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor: thin, scarred, and tired. There was a stillness about him that was new, though, a sort of hard-won inner peace. It was nice to see him looking less brittle, Thalassa thought.

“Miss Hartwell.” He nodded and the ghost of a smile flitted across his face. “But I haven’t been a professor in a few years.”

Thalassa turned her attention to the other wizard. He reminded her very strongly of Percy, if Percy had had a sense of humour and a less inflated opinion of himself. She realised this must be Fred and George’s father and put away her wand.

“Thalassa, isn’t it? I’m Arthur Weasley. Fred and George think very highly of you. George said you had a case of magical poisoning?”

“Yes,” she answered in a relieved tone. She told them what she knew from the moment Madeline asked for help. “I realize I’m operating in a legal grey area, helping like this, but I can’t just stand idly by when there’s something I can do.”

“We’re not here to accuse you,” Lupin reassured her.

She nodded. “I extracted that from him,” she pointed to the jar. “The syringe and the rest of that lot there have some residue as well.” She told them the potions she’d administered. “He’ll wake soon and he should be lucid enough to question. I’ll be in the other room.” She closed up her bag and took it with her.

Fred was sitting at the table, keeping an eye on Madeline where she was slumped in her chair, asleep. He glanced up at Thalassa’s strained face. “I think the tea’s still hot.”

“That sounds lovely.” She smiled tiredly. “If you can find a clean cup.” She checked Madeline’s pulse and breathing while Fred rummaged around in the kitchen.

He found a heavy ceramic mug and squinted at it. He poked his wand in the cup and said, “Scourgify.”

“Here, wash this out too and refill it.” She handed him Madeline’s cup. “When Professor Lupin and your—father, right?”

He nodded, filled the mug and handed it to her.

“When they get through with Derek, you can revive her. Don’t forget that it’s supposed be George that’s here.” She sipped her tea.

Nearly half and hour passed while Arthur Weasley and Remus Lupin questioned Derek. When they were through, they came out looking quite grim. “He wasn’t much help, but we’ll take these,” Lupin held up a box with the paraphernalia and the jar of poisoned heroin, “and have them tested.”

“George said he thought this might be connected to the break in at your shop. Is there anything you noticed that would support that theory?” Mr. Weasley folded his arms across his chest.

“No. Ordinarily I’d think this just a coincidence. I have several neighbours that self-medicate like this. They occasionally overdose or get hold of bad drugs. This is the first time magic has been involved, though.” She shrugged helplessly. “This whole business has me jumping at shadows. First the shop, and then my flat the other day—“

“Someone broke into your flat?” Lupin’s head came up with an expression like that of a wolf catching scent of its prey.

“They tried. The security spells on the door had been tampered with. Rather ineptly, I might add. Also, someone tried to get in through the Floo.”

“Yes, George said it’s only connected for outgoing traffic,” Mr. Weasley commented. “That’s a rather complicated process. How did you manage it?”

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say.” Occasionally being able to brew impotence cures and keep quiet about it had unexpected benefits. The wizard from the Floo Regulation Panel had been embarrassingly grateful.

“Well, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you to be careful. You haven’t broken any laws tonight, but you’re taking a huge risk using magic to help your Muggle neighbours.”

“I know,” she said quietly, refusing to look away from his direct gaze.

His expression softened. “Unofficially, I think it’s commendable,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Have Fred and George bring you out to the Burrow sometime. I’d like the chance to speak with you under less tense circumstances.”

“I’d like that as well.” She shook his hand, and then turned to Lupin. “Professor Lupin, it’s nice to see you again, whatever the circumstances.” She smiled and shook his hand as well.

“It’s just Mr. Lupin, now,” he reminded her. “Or Remus, if you prefer.”

“Remus, then. You’ll have to forgive me if I forget. It’s hard to think of you as anything but a professor. You were the best Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor we had the whole time I went to Hogwarts.”

“I don’t know about that. I heard Barty Crouch, Jr. did a decent job while he was impersonating Alastor Moody.”

“That’s an argument for another day. I’d better get back to my patient. Thank you both for taking the time to be here tonight. Feel free to use my Floo, if you like. My flat’s directly above this one.” She left them and went to check on Derek. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully now, all vital signs normal. She heard the door close and then Fred reviving Madeline with an Ennervate spell. Thalassa waited a few minutes before going back into the main room.

Madeline jumped up from her chair. “Is he all right?” she asked frantically.

“For now,” Thalassa said soothingly. “He should just sleep the rest of the night. I’ll come back tomorrow to check on him. If he tries to leave before then, come and get me. That heroin he bought was poisoned. Maybe between you and me, we can talk him into getting some help.”

“All right. Miss Tee, I don’t know how to thank you.” Tears spilled down Madeline’s face.

Thalassa gave her a hug. “You can promise me that if we can’t talk some sense into Derek, you’ll move out. You know how it is. Sometimes people in his situation have to lose everything before they get clean. In order to help him, you may have to leave him.”

“O—okay.” Madeline nodded.

“Good. Now you get some sleep, too. Take a pillow and lay down in front of the door if it’ll make you feel better.”

Thalassa and Fred left and made their way upstairs in silence. George set aside the notes he was reviewing when they came in. Thalassa collapsed into the armchair with a heavy sigh. “Thank you both for your help tonight. I wouldn’t have known who to call with all this.”

“Then I’m glad we were here,” Fred replied. “Would you like us to stay?”

“No, I’m just tired. You shouldn’t have waited around so long. I would’ve been fine after your father and Prof—Remus Lupin got here.”

“We don’t have anywhere else we need to be. We’ll stay as long as you like, but—“ George hesitated.

“Hmm?” Thalassa raised one eyebrow.

“Dad happened to mention as he was leaving that he thought you were a Very Nice Young Woman and he hoped that Fred and I weren’t Taking Advantage of your good nature.”

“George, I’m too tired to decipher that right now. Could you please translate?”

“That’s Dad’s tactful way of reminding us to be more careful with your reputation,” he replied.

“Oh, Hecate Trivia,” she swore as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “I was afraid of this. Didn’t I warn you the other day?” She rubbed her temples, trying to stave off the monster headache that threatened to split her skull.

“Don’t worry about our family. We can deal with them,” George said dismissively.

“But Dad does have a point,” Fred said. “We’re in your company quite a bit. People will eventually notice and start to talk. What do you want us to say if anyone should ask?”

“What’s wrong with the truth?”

“Would you believe us?”

She laughed a little. “Good point. Tell them the truth anyway. Why waste a good lie on people that won’t believe it?”

George chuckled while Fred shook his head in amazement. “Where have you been all our lives?” he asked.

“Right under those long Weasley noses of yours.” She covered a yawn with the back of one hand and so missed the appraising look that Fred gave her.

“What I think Fred meant was: How confidential is that order? Do we need to keep quiet about why you’re working late?”

“I’ve always found that discretion is the best policy no matter what, but yes, I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t share that detail.”

“Very well,” George agreed. “If you’re sure you’ll be all right, we’ll clear out and let you get some rest. Don’t forget to lock up behind us and set the spells.”

“I won’t,” she said, stifling another yawn.

They reached out at the same time and each took one of her arms to pull her up out of the chair. “We’re serious,” Fred said. “Don’t take any foolish risks, please. We don’t want to lose you. That scare the other day was quite enough.”

“Never fear,” she smiled. “I’ve grown fond of my life. I’m fairly motivated to keep it.” She gave them each a warm hug and saw them to the door. As she promised, she double-checked the locks and set the new spells after shutting the door behind them. Despite her stressful evening, she fell asleep quickly.

* * *

A/N: Thanks are owed to two other Mikes. First to Michael M., a dear friend of mine from college, for acceptance and encouragement at a time when I desperately needed it. 'Michael' in this chapter is very loosely based on him. (They both have dark hair and they're both artists.) Secondly to Mike E., for answering some extremely personal questions to help me with the male point of view. He asked to be put in the story, so 'Derek' is loosely based on him. (They are both large, blond men.) I let Mike choose Derek's name, instrument and drug of choice