𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐦𝐞 | 𝐇.𝐏.

𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟔 - 𝟔

I was sitting with Potter, Remus, and Tonks in the Burrow living room, telling them about my conversation with Snape and Draco after Slughorn's party. 

"Voldemort has chosen Draco for a mission?" Remus asked me for the third time.

"I know it sounds mad," I said. "But you've got to trust me. He said that Voldemort chose him out of all people, and when Snape offered to help Draco started shouting, saying it was his moment and he couldn't let Voldemort down. Draco also told me earlier in the year, by accident I think, that Voldemort expected too much of him and he was running out of time. What else could that mean?"

My explanation was met with a moment of silence.

"Well, I know that I don't trust Malfoy or Snape," Potter finally spoke up.

"Has it occurred to you, Harry, that Snape was simply pretending to offer Draco help so he could find out what he was up to?" Remus pointed out.

"That's not what it sounded like," Potter argued.

"Perhaps Harry's right, Remus," Tonks said. "To make an Unbreakable Vow, it's..."

"It comes down to whether or not you trust Dumbledore's judgment," Remus said firmly. "Dumbledore trusts Snape, therefore I do."

"Dumbledore can make mistakes, he said so himself," Potter cut in.

"You're blinded by hatred," Remus pointed at Potter, voice rising.

"I'm not," Potter replied angrily.

"Yes you are," Remus nearly shouted. Then he took a breath and began quieter, "People are disappearing, Harry, daily. We can only place our trust in a handful of people. If we start fighting amongst ourselves, we're doomed."

We all sat there for a moment, digesting his words, until Tonks stood from her chair and left for the kitchen, Remus following shortly after. Potter and I were left on the couch, but I didn't want to get up just yet. I opened my mouth to say something to him, maybe an apology for creating an argument between him and Remus, when Weasley walked in and plopped himself down right in between us. 

When he had fully settled in and I was squished against a couch arm, he turned to Potter and offered him a pie.

"You'll have to forgive Remus," Mr. Weasley said as he led Potter and I to the large shed in the Burrow's backyard, where he kept all of his Muggle experiments. He had asked us to come walk with him, and we obliged. Now we were in a dark shed, surrounded by car parts, hundreds of cut wires, and a basket of rubber ducks.

"It takes its toll, his condition," Mr. Weasley continued. 

"Are you all right, Mr. Weasley?" Potter asked.

"We're being followed, all of us," he said in response. "Most days, Molly doesn't leave the house. It's not been easy."

I was suddenly hit with the terrible realization that the Weasley's might think I was one of the spies for the Death Eaters—one of the people following them.

"Mr. Weasley," I began reluctantly, "I hope you know you can trust me. I stopped following my family a long time ago."

"I hope you know you can trust me when I say it's not you we're worried about," Mr. Weasley replied. No matter how much I knew, logically, they wouldn't have invited me over for Christmas if they didn't think I could be trusted, I felt better hearing someone say it out loud.

"Did you get my owl?" Potter asked.

"Yes, I did," Mr. Weasley said. "If Dumbledore's traveling, then that's news to the Ministry. But perhaps that's the way Dumbledore wants it." Then he looked at me. "As for your brother, I know a bit more."