"It's gotta be in here!" George explained, turning to face him.

"We don't even know if the picture exists," Fred said breathlessly, having ran quickly as George rushed to Snape's office door after they saw him leave for the night.

George muttered a quick "Alohomora," and the door clicked open.

Snape's office always unnerved him, but Fred felt a sense of satisfaction breaking in without Snape's knowing. The man seemed to know everything, and to finally have a leg up on him after years of mediocre pranks felt good. There was nothing but bottles lining the walls of the office, a dusty desk, and an old table with a concoction of potions and ingredients spread across it. "I don't think Snape is going to have this just sitting out," Fred said.

"Even if it isn't, it feels good to be in here without him knowing, doesn't it?"

Turning around the bottles that were laid out across the table and reading them, Fred laughed. "It does!"

They continued to snoop around the office, Fred tempted to take some of the bottles and tuck them away to experiment with for some of their pranks. Yet, his fear of Snape still held him back from stealing from his stores. Maybe by his seventh year, he'd feel ready to start stealing from the Potion's Master. "Fred!"

"What?"

His brother was standing behind Snape's desk with a half empty bottle of whisky in his hand. "Snape's drinking on the job."

"Should we have some?"

"Ah man, Fred! What do you think?"

"You think if we take it, he'll miss it?"

"Probably."

"Open it up and give me a swig." Fred and George took a seat on Snape's desk, pushing his bottles and parchments aside. George took a drink out of the bottle and handed it to Fred. As he let the whisky slid down his throat, he grimaced. He'd only had a few drinks in his life, and none of them were as strong as whisky.

The two sat in a smug silence for a few moments until he heard footsteps coming from the hallway and turned, panicking, to look at George. "Do you think that's Snape?"

"What do we do?" Fred asked.

"Get under the desk," George hissed, pushing himself off the desk and pulling Fred with him under the large, oak desk, hoping to Merlin Snape wasn't going to decide to sit at his desk for the night.

They heard the door open and looked at each other, both trying not to breathe. The familiar sound of a wooden cane hitting the floor echoed through the room. "Mad Eye?" Fred mouthed to his brother.

"I guess," George mouthed back.

Fred felt a sense of relief wash over him as they listened to the man hobble around, clinking potion bottles as he did. He wondered what he was doing with Snape's stores. After a few minutes, it occurred to Fred that Snape must have wondered the same thing because the familiar and dreaded voice suddenly came through the room. Fred had to slap his hand over his brother's mouth to keep him from gasping. "Late night stroll, Mad Eye?"

A gruff groan came from the Defense Against the Dark Art's teacher. "I'm assisting Minerva with the hostages for tomorrow's task."

Hostages? Fred looked to George whose face held the same shocked expression that he felt.

"Are you?" Snape asked, clearly not believing him.

"She needs some more potions to keep them asleep."

"And she sent you?"

"Funny, isn't it?"

"What's funny?"

"That she didn't ask you."

A pause followed, and Fred, even through the thickness of the desk's wood, could feel the tension between them. "I should check in with her as she may need some more competent hands when it comes to potions. Perhaps you would be of more help if she intended to scare them with the unforgiveables."

Moody chuckled. "You're still holding that to me, huh? According to Dumbledore, I must be doing something right or else you'd have the job. Right, Severus?"

"I've never liked you."

"The feeling is mutual, though I think you know that."

"Don't let me find you in here again."

The sound of bottles clinking came again. "Found what I needed."

"I'll take it," Snape snapped, his voice colder than normal. "Don't need you poisoning the students. If Minerva wanted someone incompetent to handle this task, she would have asked Sybil."

Without a word, Fred could hear both men leave the room, the door slamming behind them. The two sat in silence for a few moments, making sure that the room really was empty. "Merlin," George muttered, breaking the silence. "Hostages? Did you hear that, Freddie?"

Getting up and stretching, Fred felt his back crack. "Who do you think the hostages are?"

"I don't know. We saw Harry after dinner, so it can't be the champions."

"Do you think they're in McGonagall's office?"

"I think that we can find a lot in McGonagall's office."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "You're determined that the picture is in there?"

"It has to be! If there's one thing McGonagall loves, it's having anything she can to have a leg up on Slytherin for Quidditch. She could use that for blackmail."

"Let's go!"

And so, desperately wishing that they had Harry's invisibility cloak, the two made their way through the hall to get to McGonagall's office. When they got there, thankful for not running into Filch or any teachers on a late-night walk, Fred peeked around and saw both McGonagall and Snape with familiar faces asleep on her floor. Trying not to gasp at the sight of Hermione and their younger brother, Fred grabbed George and pulled him so he could see. "Are they okay?" he asked, whispering into George's ear.

"McGonagall isn't going to hurt them," George whispered back. "Snape might, but McGonagall won't."

"They'll sleep until they're above the water tomorrow," Snape said, leaning against McGonagall's desk.

"I don't feel it right to just leave them here overnight," she replied, looking down over her spectacles at the sleeping students and following his lead, standing beside him.

"You're going to just be watching them sleep."

"What if they wake up?"

"Do you trust me?"

McGonagall looked up at Snape, and Fred noticed that her eyes softened for a moment. "To take care of children? No." Snape snorted. "But, to do a better job than Alastor at administering the proper potion dosage? Yes."

"Glad I earned that much after all these years," he muttered.

The familiarity between the two was something Fred had never expected, and if he wasn't so focused on his worry for his brother and friend, he may have paid more attention to it. "Pomona will be doing rounds tonight, I'm sure she'll check on them."

"Get some rest for tomorrow," Snape said, standing and walking towards the door. Fred and George both pulled away, flattening themselves up against the wall, trying to prepare in case the professors came into the hall. They couldn't see but they could still hear their whole conversation.

"I hate this whole thing," McGonagall said, unlike her usual self. "Dragons, putting students to sleep…"

"Bring it up with Albus."

"He doesn't listen to me anymore."

"Did he ever?"

"Perhaps at the beginning."

"That's the way he works, isn't it?' Snape asked, angrily.

As the two continued to talk, Fred felt a bit of guilt listening to their conversation. They had only wanted to snoop around for the photo, but it seemed that he and George were getting some gossip from amongst the professors. "What is?"

"Albus."

"You know better than I do."

"Minerva…with everything that is about to happen, I…" Snape's voice trailed off, and if Fred hadn't seen him in the room moments before, the softness of it would have left him to believe it was someone else speaking. Silence fell over them until McGonagall broke it.

"What is it?"

Snape paused before speaking, and Fred heard his voice regain its normal composure. "Mad Eye may still be snooping about; let's get out of here. I'm not in the mood for any more of him this evening."

"Severus?"

"Hm?"

"What were you going to tell me?"

"Not now, Min. Let's go."

George suddenly grabbed Fred's arm and pulled him around the corner. He thanked his brother's quick thinking as they hid down a side hallway. They heard footsteps leave McGonagall's office, the door shut, and the footsteps fade down the hall. "Come on!" George said, lunging back towards McGonagall's office.

After inspecting Ron, Hermione, and the others, Fred and George came to the conclusion that, whatever it was they were being used for, they were at least safe in McGonagall's hands. They were breathing and seemed to just be in a heavy sleep. "Fred!" George shouted once they had resumed their looking. "We really did it!"

Running to McGonagall's desk, Fred looked at the small picture frame in George's hand. Inside was a picture of none other than Snape and McGonagall, the Eiffel Tower behind them. "I can't believe this is real! What in Merlin's name do you think brought them to Paris?"

"I'm telling you, a bad bet, it was! Only way this could have ever happened!"

"Did you notice, though?" Fred asked. "How comfortable they were talking with each other just now?"

"Staff gossip," George said, waiving his hand. "Who better than Snape and McGonagall to gripe about other teachers?"

"True," Fred said, trying to put his finger on what about the two seemed so different. "It just felt…"

George looked closely at him, and Fred knew that he could read his mind. "Are you trying to say you think Snape and McGonagall are shagging each other?"

Feeling his face turn red, Fred shook his head. "No, no!"

"It's not surprising that they're friends," George replied. He held up the picture like it was his prize possession, and Fred had to admit, he felt just as proud that after months of planning and searching they'd found it.

Fred took the frame from George, laughing at the photo. They were both in Muggle clothing and looked entirely unlike themselves. "Old McGonagall can pull off that jumper, eh George?"

"Not bad," he said, snatching it back. "Let's get out of here before someone else comes in. We've had too many close calls tonight!"