The Seventh Year queue stretched a long way.
George stood at the back, his expression dark.
Fred stood beside him, half a roll of blueprints still stuffed up his sleeve.
"We still have time to ask for leave."
"What reason would you give?"
"An emergency in the Research and Development Department."
"Too ordinary."
"Then say the Magic-Electricity Conversion Project has entered a critical phase."
"Sounds like we'd be asked to write a report."
George lowered his voice.
"There are still three crates of Riot Smoke Bombs back at the company that haven't been sealed."
Fred stared at the entrance to the Great Hall.
"And two buckets of Slow-Release Explosive Gel."
"And a Purchase Order."
"And our precious youth."
"Youth isn't worth anything."
"Funding is."
The scrape of chair legs came from the front of the queue.
Inside the Great Hall, the desks were being rearranged.
The exam desks were pulled apart one by one.
The gaps were wide enough to fit a Mountain Troll.
Fred drew a breath.
"I'm suddenly starting to miss Madam Umbridge."
"Don't say things like that."
"At least she wouldn't put the desks this far away from me. You know how highly she always valued us..."
Sirius stepped out beside the queue.
He held a clipboard.
"I heard that."
The Twins shut their mouths at the same time.
Sirius looked at them.
"You two are trying to run off again."
"Not run off."
George corrected him immediately.
"Wartime redeployment."
Fred nodded.
"The Marauders Power Company urgently needs us back."
"Urgently needs you to do what?"
"Save the United Kingdom's magical industry."
"And seal three crates of smoke bombs while we're at it."
Sirius snorted, just short of giving them a kick.
"You're so bad at this that you've cheered me up."
George tried to negotiate.
"We