Double Dog Dare! -- Episode 28
Juliane, 10 August 2002

Molly stared at the note with well-seasoned, enraged belief.

Mum,
Voldemort's minions can kill, steal and destroy, but they will never get away with sneering at your furniture.
Your sons (and Jason)

She forgot about the breath of fresh air she'd so desperately needed, she forgot the tea tray sitting patiently on the counter and she forgot the muffins that were fast turning to charcoal in the oven. "Arthur," she shouted, as she stepped back into the kitchen, "Did you happen to see which way the boys went? They've gone ... " Stalking back to the parlor, she thrust the note into her husband's hands, interrupting Mafalda in mid-conspiracy theory.

"What," Molly said in a voice that made dry ice seem tropical, "are we to do about this?"

"Er ... oh dear," Arthur murmured, as he read the note. "Which ones-" Mafalda read it over his shoulder, converting a laugh into a cough as she met Molly's outraged eyes, then merged the cough into a clearing of her throat.

"I'll give you a hint. It wasn't Percy, Bill, or Charlie," Molly snapped.

Minerva pried the note from Arthur's fingers, her eyes widening as she realized what the boys had done, and worse, might do. "Albus must be informed of this, and quickly-"

Arthur turned a faint shade of pink. "Our owl isn't- can't-"

"No owl is," said Minerva. "Brunnhilde," she called, and a hummingbird appeared, a blur of sapphire feathers attached to a curved beak, hovering at Minerva's shoulder, wings going so fast that they were nearly invisible. "To Albus, as quickly as you can," she said, tying the note around the bird's body after adding her own message to the Weasley boys' sprawl. Brunnhilde's beak gave a quick stroke to the back of Minerva's hand, then the bird rose to the ceiling and with a melodious chime, blinked out of sight.

Minerva sighed. "That bird is an incurable showoff ... I think Fawkes is a bad influence on her. Albus should be getting the note directly. Arthur, I told him we'd meet in your office so we'd all better go-"

Mafalda cut her off with a gesture. "I think, perhaps, it would be best if Molly and I stayed here, because if the boys meet with trouble, they may send word to the house, first. You two meet with Albus, and keep us informed, please. Molly, I think your stove might be on fire."

Molly dashed back out, followed by Mafalda, leaving the other two to Apparate to Arthur's ministry office.

~*~*~

Sirius had found a comfortable, massive rock to sit on and was absentmindedly stroking Fidelis' ear; exhausted by his efforts, the dog had curled up in his lap and was emitting tiny spaniel snores. "Dumbledore, are we just supposed to wait here and-"

The Headmaster had opened his mouth to answer, but instead turned and grabbed Viviane's arm just in time to prevent her from slicing a hummingbird in two.

"Brunnhilde, my dear!" he exclaimed. "Minerva has something urgent to say?" Removing the letter, Dumbledore scanned it, his brows knitting for a moment before he indulged in a subdued twinkle. He turned to his reprobate companions. "I need to leave for a little while - Minerva informs me that there is an emergency back at the Ministry. Stay here, or at least stay alive, please, while you wait for Severus to make his move."

"What move-" snapped Viviane, but her words ended in an exasperated snort as Dumbledore blinked out of sight.

Sirius looked up at her. "Ready to break into the house? Can you do that thing where you spread your hands and-"

"Absolutely," Viviane said. "Shut up." She spread her palms towards the warded house and lowered the guards. "As shoddily done as Malfoy's. How did these people ever-"

"Through murder, torture, rape, and intimidation. Now, come on. Time to rescue your dimwitted lover, yet again, may I point out."

She stumbled and nearly fell into the muck as Sirius grabbed her elbow and began to make his way towards the house, Fidelis carefully tucked under his other arm.

"Fine talk from you, Mr. Azkaban. Remind me, how many years did it take you to make an escape? Over there - that door looks like a likely way in."

The door, nearly blocked by overgrown shrubs and a moldy stack of firewood, gave way easily to Sirius' "Alohomora!" Slowly pushing it open, he and Viviane peeked in. A kitchen, devoid of anything except empty Chinese takeout boxes and the remains of a wretched macaroni casserole, smelt disconcertingly like boiled cabbage. "Do you see any cabbage?" queried Viviane. "Don't ask," said Sirius. "You really don't want to know. Let's just say it's involved in one of her torture techniques." He shivered at the memory of his Janet Experience. "Apparently badly boiled cabbage has strange hallucinatory qualities."

"OK, where to now?" said Viviane, peering into the dank hallway.

"Downstairs," Sirius whispered. "I bet it's that door, there."

"Great Merlin," groused Viviane as she opened the door and tried not to touch the dripping walls as she started downstairs. "another damned basement. Why can't any of you keep prisoners in the attic? This is getting really old, not to mention demonstrates a sad lack of imagination ... "

Sirius sighed and looked down at Fidelis. "Rrrowwwl," said the spaniel, in sympathetic agreement. "Viviane, reconcile yourself to your genre and keep your eyes open for a big-nosed, idiotic git, probably having sex with a sadistic witch."

"Fine. Fine, I'm looking but I don't see anything except dripping walls and an inch of slime that is positively ruining my boots."

"Sshhh," hushed Sirius. "Stealth is a virtue, in our situation."

Viviane ignored him. "No doors, even. This is obviously the wrong hallway, unless the doors have a Concealment Spell on them. Janet had better be here, because I want the pleasure of killing her in the slowest, most painful manner possible, after retrieving my sword, of course-"

"Shut up!" Sirius couldn't take it any more. "Shut up, shut up, shut the hell up." At the sight of her face, he pointed his wand at her and offhandedly said, "Stupefy." Viviane fell with a splat onto the floor. Sirius bent over to shake off the worst of the mucky clumps her body had thrown up onto his robes.

Fidelis whined. Sirius gave him a comforting scritch behind the ears. "I had to, pal. She would have sliced my balls off, and I like them right where they are. Now what to do with her ... "

Looking around, he saw a convenient, person-sized niche in the stone. "Ah, perfect. I'll just bundle her up and stick her into a hole in the wall." Setting Fidelis on his shoulder, he wrestled Viviane's inert form into the opening, then magicked the illusion of a wall to hide her. "We'll let Snape retrieve his irritating lover, if he finds that he wants to. All right?" The spaniel yelped his agreement. The last thing the small dog wanted was to face the Other One when she was released from that spell. As a matter of fact, he fervently hoped she would forget he had even been present. "Now, where did you say she was keeping Snape?" Sirius asked Fidelis.

~*~*~

Molly and Mafalda stood at the back of the Burrow, throwing the rock-hard muffins at garden gnomes, more often than not hitting them squarely in the head. Limp gnome bodies were scattered over the lawn, and more were fleeing next door, shaking tiny fists at the witches on the porch. "Mafalda, what is going on? Why did you offer to stay here instead of going with Arthur and Minerva?"

Mafalda grinned at her. "Oh, I have a few things I need to tell you. Do you still make those wonderful gin fizzes?"

"Of course," Molly said, "follow me." Going into the kitchen, she waved her wand at a cupboard. With much clinking and "Excuse me, please-es" in Liquorese, a bottle of Tanqueray floated to the table, accompanied by powdered sugar, lemon and a bottle of soda water. A chipped pitcher soon joined them and began an excited reunion with the gin. "What's going on?"

Mafalda waited until the pitcher filled a glass for her, and took a long draught of the mixture. "Ahhh, reminds me of old times - when it was just you and Arthur, and you gave the best cocktail parties-"

"Mafalda! What do you know, and does it impact my sons?"

The other witch laughed and put down her drink. "Yes, for the better, probably. Albus, Minerva and Arthur are more than a match for even Fred and George. The current situation is the result of something you and I can handle quite easily. We just need some time to ourselves, which your sons have unintentionally given us."

Molly leaned forward, her eyes beginning to sparkle. "Us? I could use a little action. I haven't seen a decent fight since-"

Mafalda clinked her glass against Molly's. "Yes, you were magnificent. Now, your sons, bless them, have diverted Minerva and Dumbledore, and I'm sure they'll be found, and in fine shape. I'm far more worried about those fools Chance and Black, and their unerring instinct to mess up the best of plans. Anyway, remember a certain pair of sisters that we particularly despised during our time at Hogwarts? The really nasty ones?"

Molly frowned and thought about it. "Janet? Awful Janet and her worse sister, Margo. The Channings. What a stupid pair of wenches they were."

"Are," Mafalda corrected her. "Are, and they have captured Severus Snape. Dumbledore, with Chance and Black, went to rescue him. That would be messy. I've got a much more elegant solution, if everyone else would be kind enough to get out of the way." Taking another sip of her drink, she winked at Molly. "Remember that day when we snuck into the Restricted section of the library, and we saw the Channing girls er, you know?"

Molly choked, then began to cough. "Mafalda ... .Mafalda, that's brilliant! We are the only ones who know about their mortal weakness ... .only ... ." She finally caught her breath. "What about the curse they put on us, if we told anyone?"

Mafalda sighed. "Molly, we're past adolescence. I think an ass full of pimples will be a temporary, and bearable, price to pay to put the Channings back in Azkaban."

Molly tossed back the remains of her drink and poured herself another. "Arthur will be temporarily ... disappointed, but would agree with the principle of the thing. What shall we do next?"

"I'm going to join you in another drink, and we wait. We'll know when it is time to act."

"To us, and an ass full of pimples," said Molly. "Cheers to that," answered Mafalda, and after clinking glasses, they both sat back in their chairs to await their signal.