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Fred followed George as they crept down the gloomy corridor, stepping lightly to avoid attracting attention. Even layered in charms to keep them hidden, the twins knew better than to sacrifice any advantage in pursuit of a prank.
Getting around without the Maurders Map was more difficult, especially when working on such an important surprise, but they had long learned to live without it. He and his brother had plenty of tricks up their sleeves.
Enough tricks that realising they may not be enough was quite startling.
The last few weeks, they had begun scraping the bottom of the cauldron for ways to torment Hogwarts’ newest interloper: Dolores Umbridge. Though her royal toadiness had started the year like any other annoying professor, no worse than others – cough, Snape – she had quickly revealed herself to be so much worse.
By now, Fred knew it was their role, nay, it was their duty , to rid the school of the woman. Hell, it would be their privilege.
Yet she proved resilient. Pranks that should have driven anyone sane from the castle hardly fazed her. Torment passed her by like a gentle breeze. It was a perplexing situation.
They finally reached the Defence classroom and Fred slipped through held open door.
“Three minutes, hurry up,” his brother whispered.
It only took half that to get to her desk and sabotage the course books left there. It was just a cover for the nasty curse he left under the chair, of course, but he still chuckled thinking about the books turning into impromptu howlers the next day.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said lowly after making it outside. They’d carefully timed their heist to coincide with one of Umbridge’s late-night patrols and didn’t have forever.
With matching grins, they took off down the hall, sacrificing some stealth to get away from the classroom as fast as possible.
Fred supposed that was why they didn’t hear the footsteps until a dark cloak rounded the corner, just ahead.
In unison, they froze, as the second-worst professor at the school ever so slightly narrowed his eyes at the scene. Unlike Umbridge, Severus Snape was no idiot, and as his gaze drifted to the door of the Defence classroom for just a moment, Fred knew they were most certainly caught.
Their experimental modified Curse of the Bogies wasn’t strictly lethal – the compounding unstoppable cold would at worst send her to St. Mungos – but there was a reason they’d gone so far to avoid being connected to the casting.
Fred saw George begin to open his mouth, no doubt to plead their case, when the unthinkable happened. Snape resumed his walk, stepping past the two of them without acknowledging their presence in the slightest.
Never had the potions teacher passed up an opportunity to make their lives hell. Certainly not for such a clear and notable transgression. He didn’t even get them for being out after curfew!
And yet…
“Did that just happen?” he asked, turning to see George equally flabbergasted.
They didn’t stay to discuss it further, sprinting the rest of the way to the Gryffindor common room.
Severus eyed Dolores from the staff table as she prattled on about the newest Educational Decree to be implemented.
Banning the Quibbler, or some other inane nonsense.
Ridiculous.
He didn’t have time to navigate around these absurd whims, much less handle the occasional dangerous inclusion. Confiscating wands? Searching the post? Cancelling Quidditch?
Severus was fighting a war, damn it. How was he supposed to operate with this bumbling woman running roughshod around the school? It was hard enough trying to keep Potter from getting killed by the Dark Lord, but now he had to be prepared to step in if the boy kept testing Dolores, too?
No. He refused.
And yet… loath as he was to admit it, his hands were tied. His position as a spy was tenuous enough that any hasty action might collapse all his hard work. With Dumbledore refusing to interfere for some unknown political tradeoff, he saw no way forward.
At least, he hadn’t seen one.
His eyes turned to what may have been the second worst part about Hogwarts, the Weasley twins. Potter was a painful reminder and all too much responsibility, but the identical redheads seemed dedicated to making his life a nightmare.
Thank Merlin they hadn’t desired to take NEWT potions last year. It was a much-needed relief to no longer suffer them in his class.
They whispered to each other as they glared at the pink-clad professor, still droning on about the newest announcement.
It was painful to admit, but their delayed curse left in the classroom was rather clever. Subtle enough that Umbridge would have likely missed it, had he not dispelled it. Much too obvious and potentially dangerous… it would bring the Ministry down on the school and be far from enough to send her away.
Dolores wrapped up with a giggle and returned to her seat, leaving Severus pensive throughout the meal.
Perhaps if they were careful, the Weasleys’ pranks could turn from an annoyance to a real distraction. Maybe, if he was lucky, they might even contrive a method of ridding him of the woman entirely. He supposed if they had some help…
Severus stood up, suddenly lacking an appetite. He was nauseous for even considering it, but too experienced to hesitate at a time like this.
Sweeping through the Great Hall, he only stopped briefly by the twins to say, “Detention, now.” By the time they were scrambling after him, he had reached the door.
George tried not to glare at the surly Potions Master as he and Fred sat in his office, unaddressed. Interrupting their dinner just to ignore them? Horrendous. And entirely on brand.
They expected something like this to happen, as it had been days since their late-night run-in.
Days without Umbridge so much as sniffling, much less catching a magical cold. Evidently, Snape had discovered their handiwork and found it wanting.
He fidgeted and saw Fred bouncing his leg. Nothing good could come from this, he was sure.
“It is… peculiar,” Snape began at last, still not looking up from the parchment he was marking. “That Dolores seems plagued by foul luck.”
“It’s probably the Defence curse,” Fred blurted out. George wanted to smack him. Would’ve too, had he not been about to say the same.
“Perhaps…”
They sat in silence, a quietly bubbling cauldron and the scratching of quill on parchment filling the void.
“Her current… misfortunes have not been enough to distract her. They are certainly not enough to drive her away.”
He didn’t know what to say to that, so he stayed silent. Fred must have been curious where this was going as well,
“In fact, I doubt there is anything that could dissuade her entirely,” Snape continued. “She is resilient. Unflappable. Hardened by the unforgiving crowd of the… Ministry. Dolores navigates the... bureaucracy there well enough that no schoolyard pranks would faze her.”
George was shocked by this turn of events, but the man continued.
“You will write me a proposal for a hypothetical… distraction. Or an attempt to remove her from Hogwarts. And I will explain to you how such a thing will fail. Do you understand?”
He nodded his head.
“Very well. Out.”
They sped out of the room, huddling close enough through the corridors.
“Did he just say… Did he just admit…?” Fred said.
“Yes,” George responded. “Yes, I do think that’s what he was implying.”
The only reason Snape would assist them, of all people, in their noble quest was if his conflict with her was truly significant. If he couldn’t take action himself. That could only mean one thing.
There were theories, but hearing Snape say it…
“So it’s true, then. Umbridge really is a Death Eater.”
Severus watched the boys step into his office the next day. Apprehensive, clearly, but with more genuine excitement beneath the surface than they’d ever sported in this room.
“Well…” he drawled, after they had sat down in silence.
Wordlessly, one of them slid over a much smaller parchment than he expected. He skimmed over it, almost raising an eyebrow and needing to stop his eye from twitching.
He read it again.
How those morons came to such a conclusion, he had no idea. Their plan was idiotic, suicidal even. It was absurd… It might be brilliant.
Severus sighed. “If she were a Death Eater, I suppose this would be clever. The Ministry would cover it up, certainly, but Dolores would flee or… disappear… in the meantime.”
“Disappear?” The right one asked. “You mean…”
“Yes, the Dark Lord does not suffer incompetence, nor does he appreciate impersonations. He would likely make an example of her, had you succeeded.”
They both swallowed deeply. Good, they could not be so glib about pranks that could kill. War was coming, yes, but if they were forced to go so far, it would not be by accident.
“Thankfully, that is not something we need to concern ourselves with. If desired, the Dark Mark could be concealed more thoroughly than you would ever hope to dispel. You wouldn’t succeed well enough to get the Dark Lord’s attention.”
One of them – on the left this time – coughed lightly. “We did think about that. A contingency in case we got the wrong arm.” The other elbowed him. “What about an illusion to mimic the mark instead?”
“And who pray tell, would believe a simple illusion charm? How would that force her to leave?”
“Dumbledore would do something with enough outrage, wouldn’t he?”
Severus wanted to scoff. No, Dumbledore wouldn’t be stepping in. He couldn’t even fault the man. A petty tyrant at school was far the his biggest concerns at the moment.
One of them continued, “If she was enough of an embarrassment to the Ministry, they’d have to take–”
“Enough. No, you will need a new plan if you hope to get rid of her for good.” Severus said. “This may be a suitable distraction, I suppose, but that is all. For now, prepare. I may be able to direct you to a Dark Mark to study later on.
“Couldn’t we just use your…”
He glared at them for a long moment. “Leave. I will be in touch.”
Fred flipped through another Charm textbook, looking for an appropriate collection of spells he could put together to replicate a Dark Mark on Umbridge’s arm. He already had a basic plan, like a temporary tattoo, though it lacked any accuracy or animation.
And since he wasn’t working off a reference, there wasn’t any way to add protections against dispelling.
They knew Snape claimed this plan had no chance at real success, but that didn’t dissuade them from giving it a try. The first hurdle to doing that was actually making the tattoo believable , which had become more of
George had left not long before, to continue working on their other plan of attack, which meant Fred was stuck with the research. Bleh. He much preferred practical testing.
“Mr Weasley,” a deep voice said from behind him. Fred turned around to find an envelope thrust into his hands. Snape continued, “Your instructions for detention.”
The professor walked away before he could respond, so Fred shrugged and tore into the letter. It described the likely location of a particular informant that Saturday night. A particular rat he was well acquainted with.
George slipped behind the One-Eyed Witch into the passageway to Hogsmede, uncharacteristically sombre for the activity. They were well acquainted with the route, frequenting trips to the village outside of official weekends, but preparing to face off against a Death Eater wasn’t quite the same as stocking up on sweets and pranks and firewhisky.
“Ah, cheer up,” Fred said. “Snape said he was slippery, more than dangerous. If we get the jump on him, we’ll be fine.”
“Right, I know that. I can’t help but think if things go bad, they’ll go really bad.” The letter from Snape had some uncharacteristically sound advice. If anything, it almost seemed like the man was worried about them. It was eerie.
“But they won’t! Bummer we can’t capture him though…”
“Psh, he’d be out of the Ministry in minutes, and Snape would kill up for exposing his part in this. Don’t even think about it.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
They spent the rest of the walk in silence, both considering the plan. Snape claimed Pettigrew would be observing the Hog’s Head, for whatever reason, presumably as Scabbers. That would make corning him next to impossible for anyone unaware of the animagus. There were simply too many places for a rat to hide.
But that also gave them a short window where he would be isolated and vulnerable, getting away from prying eyes before transforming and apperating. Assuming they could ambush him on leaving…
There were a few places that might work in town. More, if the rat could slip inside someone’s home. But if Pettigrew was anything like the rat they’d lived with for so long, they suspected he would go all the way to the treeline – an abundance of caution relative to other spots around town.
So they snuck out of Honeydukes, positioned themselves just inside the trees closest to the Hog’s Head, and applied even more concealment charms of various types.
Then, they waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Finally, when the moon was high in the sky and George thought he could keep his drooping eyes open no longer, they heard the skuttling of a familiar animal heading towards them. It rounded a tree only a stone's throw away, completely oblivious to their presence. Just as the shape grew into the figure of a man, he saw Fred’s stunning spell slam him in the back, seconds before he was about to cast one of his own.
“Let’s make this quick. I want to be far away from here when he comes to.”
Fred sat at the Gryffindor table with muted anticipation, staring at George across from him. The spell had come together nicely after their late-night outing, the pair had rehearsed with Snape, and they even finished the extra surprise to make it more effective.
Before he knew it, the time had come.
“Mr Weasley,” Snape called from up the staff table. “No spellwork in the Great Hall, bring me your wand.”
He had no trouble staring in incredulity at the Professor lazily pointing his way, even if they had planned this. Snape was great at sounding infuriating.
Fred stood and made his way over, getting some attention from the half-filled hall, but not much. Just as they hoped, he was interpreted.
“Hem hem,” the saccharine sweet voice of Dolores Umbridge interjected with a giggle. “Now, Severus, you know that Educational Decree 39 says the High Inquisitor conficastes wands.” She turned to Fred with an open palm, “Give it here.”
He intentionally furrowed his brow. “My wand is getting confiscated no matter what, right?” Before she finished nodding, he muttered his spell and a bright light shot toward her.
The action drew the attention of the students and the remaining faculty, who all witnessed her long pink sleeves roll up around her shoulders, the outfit turning a hideous shade of yellow, and her skin turning green. For the moment it lasted before Snape stood and cast an intentionally targeted dispelling charm, he bemoaned the lack of croaks to go along with it.
As the colours faded, the laughter, already turning to chuckles, immediately cut off when the nearest students caught sight of the now strikingly prominent tattoo. Gasps spread across the hall, and Umbridge quickly realised where everyone was focused.
She yelped upon seeing her arm, and watched Snape and Hagrid edge away from her. If she was steaming mad at the colour change, now she was frothing with rage as she whipped around to stare at Fred.
Actually, as she continued to stumble over a coherent response, Fred started to worry they might have miscalculated. They were hoping for particularly damning reaction. Maybe even something that might make Fudge shuffle her out of the public eye.
Spellcasting hadn’t factored into their decision. She was an incompetent witch! Why would they have worried about that? Still, he couldn’t help but take a step back as she raised her wand.
“Crucio!”
Severus arrived at the hospital bed, seeing Fred propped up in pain, with George sitting beside him, both grinning like lunatics. He had known they were hiding something when they last met, but hadn’t bothered to look deeper. He still hadn’t decided if that was a mistake.
“They found nothing mind-altering in the spell. I found no residue in her drink.”
“Her silverware,” George whispered.
He scoffed, pulling them out of his sleeve and tossing them over. He was no amateur. “This was an advanced potion. Subtly lowering inhibitions, increasing irritation?” They nodded in unison. “Well done.”
“Umbridge?” Fred asked.
“Gone.”
There was nothing more to be said. They had driven out Umbridge, somehow, and Snape survived the ordeal that came from interacting with the Weasley twins.
“It… was tolerable working with you,” Severus admitted. “I don’t want to do it again.”
He strode out of the Hospital Wing without another word, hoping not to see the menaces anytime soon.