DOROTHEA {fred weasley}

seventy six

The room in Spinner's End was cold, always cold, even in April. Damp stone walls, a sputtering fire, and the sharp, acrid scent of some long-dead potion clinging to every surface.

Dumbledore stood by the window, looking out over the black river. Snape didn't offer tea and stood stiffly in the corner, paranoid following a visit from Bellatrix and Narcissa that a death eater could show up at any moment.

"I spoke to the Order about Dorothea Rosier," Dumbledore said.

Snape said nothing.

Dumbledore turned, his face lined with concern that was too old to be theatrical. "I assume you know that already."

Still silence.

"Some of them are willing for her to help," Dumbledore continued. "Remus remembers teaching her, said she's smart. Molly met her a couple of times, I believe."

Snape folded his arms. "And what is it you expect me to do, exactly?"

Dumbledore's eyes gleamed. "Get her out, somehow, I suppose. Cover her."

Snape exhaled through his nose. "She's still protected. Ezra keeps her under his wards when he's away. Clementine monitors her mind when he's not. She's never alone."

"She found a way to speak," Dumbledore said softly. "That alone should tell you how serious this is."

Snape looked at him for a long time. "I'm the one who's been reading her mind for the last six months, Albus, I know how serious it is. She's the Dark Lord's most prized weapon. She's stronger than most of us- them."

"I believe she is afraid," said Dumbledore. "And I believe she no longer knows how to ask for mercy without sounding like a threat."

Snape's lip curled. "How poetic."

"You taught her," Dumbledore said.

Snape flinched, just slightly.

"She is not innocent," Dumbledore continued, "but she is not lost. Not yet."

"You have a talent," Snape said coldly, "for rescuing strays."

Dumbledore's gaze sharpened. "And you have a talent for pretending you don't care when you do."

Snape turned away.

"She stood still at the Burrow," Dumbledore said. "Molly saidFred saw her. She didn't raise her wand."

Snape muttered something in response, too low for Dumbledore to catch.

"What was that?"

"She's not going to survive this," Snape said flatly. "You keep pretending she might. But it's too late. Ezra will suspect her. The Dark Lord already has."

"She sent word anyway," Dumbledore said. "Even knowing that."

Snape didn't speak for a long time.

Finally: "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to keep her alive," Dumbledore said. "I want you to find out how and when she can move, and when she does, I want her brought in safely. No arrests. No show trials. Quietly."

"She's still his wife," Snape said. "Legally. Magically."

"Then we find a way around that too," Dumbledore said. "If anyone can find a loophole in ancient blood-binding rites, it's you."

Snape's mouth tightened.

"This puts other lives at risk, you know about Elvira Jones. If she dies, it will not be my fault."