George's hands shook as he straightened his tie. He barely recognized his reflection in the mirror; it had been a long time since he had dressed up-two years in fact-for Fred's funeral. There hadn't been much reason to dress up since then.

"So, remember, your job is to get as much information about this project as possible. Thea's given us a lot, but whatever you find out should help corroborate her story," said Harry from his position standing next to George.

"I know." George fiddled with his tie again even though he knew it was already straight. "You went over this already."

"You just seem a bit nervous is all," Harry told him, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"I don't think he's nervous about Liam, mate," said Ron, who was sitting on the edge of George's bed just behind them. "I think it has something to do with another Unspeakable."

"Shut up, Ron," said George, though his voice didn't really have any heat in it. He was looking forward to seeing Thea-even if he wasn't looking forward to using Fred's memory to help her take down Liam.

They heard the bell downstairs. "I expect that'll be the girls," said Harry. "I'll get it." And he headed off, leaving George and Ron alone upstairs.

"Seriously though," said Ron. "It's good to see you a little more yourself. You haven't been since..."

"Ron," George warned. He was nervous enough as it was-he couldn't handle a conversation about Fred, too.

Ron sighed. "We just worry about you, all of us, Mum, Dad, Ginny..."

"Ron!" he said again, more forcefully this time.

Ron flinched, but before George could apologize or say anything else, Harry poked his head in through the doorway.

"The girls are here," he said.

"We'll be right out," George told him, before turning to focus on Ron. "Ron..." he began apologetically.

"It's fine. We should head out." Ron was already heading for the door.

"Ron, I'm sorry."

Ron didn't respond, so George followed him out into the living room. His attention had been fixed on Ron-that was until he saw Thea. Her black dress was longer, but the material clung to her in a way that showed off her curves. Her usually bushy hair was styled in sleek curls, and it was clear she was wearing makeup, just enough to add an extra punch to her eyes, which were as blue as ever. "You look beautiful," he told her.

Thea bit her lip. "Thank you."

"So, remember," said Harry, "you need to keep Liam's attention on you-more you, Thea, but George, too, so that Jax can poke around." He turned his focus to Thea. "Can you handle this?"

Thea pressed her lips together. "I may not be used to this sort of thing, but I can handle myself-and it's ultimately my plan."

Harry shook his head. "It's not that-it may be your plan, but I'm the one who has to run this mission, and I don't know you that well, so I just wanted to check in before you go."

"Yeah, but it's coming across as if you don't trust her," George pointed out, meeting Harry's eyes in a challenge. "She can handle this, so lay off."

Thea raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing, while Harry looked away. "I'd rather hear her say that," he muttered.

"During the second wizarding war," Thea began softly, "I was wanted as a muggle-born who had avoided interview. They sent snatchers and Aurors after me but never found me. Granted, I was of low-level interest to them compared to Undesirable Number 1, but they still made some effort." She took a breath. "I'm not traditionally a soldier-that's not really in my makeup. It's why I didn't become an Auror, but I'm good at finding out things-even without wearing all of this."

"I don't doubt that you can handle yourself..."

"Yes, you do."

For a moment, the two stared each other down before Harry spoke: "You're a legilimens."

What? Where did he...George's head jerked over to Thea, expecting her to be frowning or for her to protest, but instead, she was grinning.

"Most people don't figure it out that quickly," Thea told Harry. "How did you put it together?"

"Talking to you is like talking to Dumbledore." Harry shrugged. "He always seemed to know more than he let on."

George shook his head. "So, wait a minute...all this time...you've been able to read our minds?" It stood to reason that if she had known that Harry was thinking she couldn't handle herself, then she had known that he had thought she was a criminal in his shop as well as...before he really had a chance to be embarrassed though, Harry had spoken up.

"It doesn't necessarily work like that," Harry pointed out.

"Yes, more or less," Thea answered though. "I mean, Harry's right, for a lot of people it doesn't, but I mostly come by it naturally."

Harry looked back over at her. "You don't cast a spell?"

Thea shook her head. "No. I mean I did when I was learning how to control it, but that was a long time ago."

"Eight years," George said softly. It had to be. Eight years ago was when Liam had killed her parents. She would have been motivated to learn to control it after that.

Thea looked over at him, eyebrows raised. Was she impressed that he had figured that out? "Yes, exactly," she said softly.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "People underestimate you at their own peril, don't they?"

Thea chuckled at that. "If I were the violent-type I suppose, but then mostly I'd rather just stick to the shadows. That's the only thing that worries me about this plan," she admitted. "We've set it up, so I'll be in the centre of attention."

"Somehow I think you can play the part you need to," Harry assured her. "I believe in you, and I'm sorry I implied otherwise."

Thea nodded. "You aren't the first, and you won't be the last. Should we go? Or was there something else?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I think you're good to go."

That was George's cue. "Your carriage awaits, my lady." And he bowed low, before straightening to take her hand.

Thea was shaking her head, but there was laughter in her eyes as the two of them headed out.